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CYCLOPAEDIA
O F
POLITICAL SCIENCE,
POLITICAL ECONOMY,
POLITICAL HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES.
BY THE BEST AMERICAN AND EUROPEAN WRITERS,
EDITED BY
JOHN J. LALOR.
WOL. III,
OATH — ZOLI,VEREIN.
CHICAGO : -
MELBERT B. CARY & COMPANY.
1884.
ENTERED AccordLNG To ACT of CoNGRESS, IN THE YEAR 1884, BY
MELBERT B. CARY AND COMPANY,
IN THE OFFICE OF THE LIBRARIAN of CongBEss, AT WASHINGTON, D. C.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.,
º
RAND, McNALLY & Co.,
Printers, Binders and Electrotypers,
148 to 154 Monroe St., Chicago.
Among the Writers of the Articles in the Three Volumes,
are the following:
EDWARD ATKINSON, Boston, Mass.
BARTHELEMY SAINT-HILAIRE, Member of the In-
stitute of France.
FREDERICK BASTIAT, the famous French Econ-
omist.
HENRI BAUDRILLART, Member of the Institute of
France.
MAURICE BLOCK, Statistician, Political Economist
and Publicist, Editor of the Diction maºré Gén-
| L. FoubERT, Chef de division, France.
éral de la Politique, Paris.
J. C. BLUNTSCHLI, one of the editors of Blunt-
Schli & Brater’s Staatsºpórterbuch.
GEROLAMO BOCCARDO, Editor of the Dizionario
Universale di Economia Politica e di Commercio,
Italy.
JACQUES DE BOISJOSLIN, Paris, France.
ALBERT S. BoILEs, Author of “History of Amer-
ican Finance,” Philadelphia, Pa.
GASTON DE BOURGE, Advocate, Paris, France.
R. R. BowkER, New York.
T. T. BRYCE, New Haven, Conn.
HORATIO BURCHARD, Director of the Mint, Wash-
ington, D. C.
EDWARD CARY, New York.
E, CAUCHY, Member of the Institute of France.
EMILE CHEDIEU, Advocate, France.
A. E. CHERBULIEz, Political Economist, contrib-
utor to the Diction/maire de l’Economie Politique,
JoBN W. CLAMPITT, Counselor-at-Law, Chicago.
AMBROISE CLEMENT, the distinguished French
Economist.
JAMES F. CoIBY, Counselor-at-Law, New Haven,
Conn.
ROYER-COLLARD, Professor of the Faculté de
Droit, Paris. -
EUSTACE CONWAY, Counselor-at-Law, New York.
THOS. M. COOLEY, Author of “Constitutional
Limitations,” etc., etc., Judge of the Supreme
Court of Michigan.
CHAs. Coque LIN, one of the Editors of the Dic-
tionnaire de l’Economie Politigue, France.
C. CowLEY.
COURCELLE-SENEUIL, Paris, France.
E. H. CROSBY, Counselor-at-Law, New York.
J. C. BANCROFT DAVIs, Assistant Secretary of
State, Washington, D. C.
DELABARRE-DUPARCQ, Director at the Military
School of St. Cyr, France.
CHARLES DUNOYER, France.
JULES DUVAL, Publicist, France.
CL. DUVERNOIS, French Ex-Minister.
DORMAN B. EATON, Chairman of the Civil Serv-
ice Commission, New York.
MAX. EBERHARDT, Counselor-at-Law, Chicago.
LEON FAUCHER, Member of the Institute of
France.
HENRY FAWCETT, M. P., Professor of Political
Economy at the University of Cambridge; at
present, Postmaster General of Great Britain.
GASPAR FINALI, Ex-Minister, Italy.
JoBN FISKE, Cambridge, Mass.
WoRTHINGTON C. FoED, Brooklyn, N. Y.
JosLPH GARNIER, Professor of Political Econ-
omy, Member of the Institute of France.
HENRY GEORGE, Author of “Progress and Pov-
erty,” New York.
D. C. GILMAN, President of Johns Hopkins Uni-
versity, Baltimore.
E. L. GODKIN, Editor New York Nation.
G. BROWN GOODE, Smithsonian Institute, Wash-
ington, D. C.
LOUIS GOTTARD, Publicist, France.
GEORGE WALTON GREEN, Counselor-at-Law, New
York.
JULES GRENIER, Publicist, France.
W. E. GRIFFIS, Author of “The Mikado's Em-
pire,” Schenectady, N. Y.
F. P. G. GUIZOT, France.
ARTHUR. T. HADLEY, Instructor in Political
& Science, Yale College, New Haven, Conn.
J. B. HAMILTON, Surgeon General U. S. Marine
Hospital, Washington, D. C.
FAUSTIN HäLIE, Member of the Institute of
France.
XAVIER HEUSCHLING, Minister of the Interior,
|Brussels, Belgium.
J. E. HoRN, Writer on Finance, Member of the
Hungarian Parliament.
FRANKLIN B. Hough, Washington, D. C.
EDWARD S. ISHAM, Counselor-at-Law, Chicago,
Ill.
E. J. JAMES, University of Pennsylvania, Phila-
delphia, Pa.
JOHN A. JAMESON, Author of “The Constitu-
tional Convention,” Chicago, Ill.
PAUL JANET, Member of the Institute of France.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON, Professor of Jurispru-
dence, Princeton College, N. J.
JoHN JOHNSTON, Banker, Milwaukee, Wis.
JOHN J. KNOx, Comptroller of the Currency,
Washington, D. C.
GUSTAVE KOERNER, Ex-Governor of Illinois.
CHAs. LAVOLLEE, Ex-Prefect, France.
LOUIS LECLERC, France.
A. LEGOYT, France.
(iii)
iy LIST OF WHITERS.
T. E. CLIFFE LESLIE, the eminent English Polit-
ical Economist.
HENRY D. LLOYD, Financial Editor of the Chi-
cago Tribune.
E. LöNING, Professor University Dorpat, Russia.
JoHN LOWELL, Chestnut Hill, Mass. . . .
ALFRED BISHOP MASON, Counselor-at-Law, Chi-
cago, Ill. *
D. H. MASON, Chicago, Ill.
CHARLES DE MAZADE, France.
J. R. M'CULLOCH, the English Economist.
G. DE MOLINARI, Editor of the Journal des Dé-
bats, Corresponding Member of the Institute of
France. - - -
M. MoR.JEAN, France. -
E. MonTEGUT, France. -
MICHEL NicoLAs, Professor, Montauban, France.
S. N. D. NORTH, Utica, N. Y.
M. ORTOLAN, Lawyer, France.
A. OTT, France. -
E. PAIGNON, France.
ESQUIROU DE PARIEU, Member of the Institute
of France.
H. PAssy, France.
JULES PAUTET, French Vice-Prefect.
M. PoEZL, Professor at the University of Mu-
nich. -
FRED. PoELock, Cambridge University, England.
R. P. PoETER, Special Agent (Tenth Census
U. S.) for Statistics of Wealth, Debt, Taxation
and Railroads, Washington, D. C.
GEORGE HAVEN PUTNAM, New York.
M. RABUTAUx, Publicist, France.
R. W. RAYMOND, New York.
ERNEST RENAN, Member of the Institute of
France.
LOUIS REYBAUD,
France.
LEON DE ROSNY, France.
Member of the Institute of
A. UBICINI, Italy.
WM. RoscHER, Professor of Political Economy at
the University of Leipzig.
M. ROTHE, Professor at Soró, Denmark.
F. B. SANBORN, Concord, Mass.
HORACE SAY, France. -
J. B. SAY, France.
LEON SAY, Economist, France.
L. SCHWARTZ, Germany.
| JULES SIMON, Member of the French Academy.
|PDMUND MUNROE SMITH, Professor in Columbia.
College, New York. -
HAYDN SMITH, Chicago Times.
L. SMITH, London. - -
A. R. SPOFFORD, Librarian of Congress, Wash-
ington, D. C. - -
SIMON STERNE, Counselor-at-Law, New York.
M. STOESSEL, Switzerland.
A. M. SULLIVAN, M. P., London, England.
HENRI THIERS, France. -
JOHN P. TOWNSEND, one of the Vice-Presidents.
of the Bowery Savings Bank, New York.
FRANCIS A. WALKER, Mass. Institute of Tech-
nology, Boston, Mass. -
J. D. WEEKS, Editor of the Iron Age, Expert and
Special Agent (Tenth Census U. S.) for Wages.
in Manufacturing Industry, Pittsburg, Pa.
DAVID A. WELLs, the eminent American Econo-
mist, Norwich, Conn.
HORACE WHITE, New York.
FREDERICK W. WHITRIDGE, Counselor-at-Law,
New York. - -
TALCOTT WILLIAMS,
Pa.
FRED. H. WINEs, Springfield, Mass.
H. B. WITTON, Inspector of Canals, Hamilton,
Ont. - -
L. WOLOWSKI, Paris, France.
THEO. S. Wool,SEY, Professor at Yale College.
The Press, Philadelphia,
CYCLOPAEDIA
OF
POLITICAL SCIENCE, POLITICAL ECONOMY,
AND OF THE
POLITICAL HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES.
O A. T. H.
ATH. Oaths have been in use in all coun-
tries of which we have any exact information,
and it is probable that there is no nation which
has any clear notion of a Supreme Being, or of
Superior beings, that does not make use of oaths
On certain solemn occasions. An oath may be
described generally as an appeal or address to a
superior being, by which the person making it
engages to declare the truth on the occasion on
which he takes the oath, or by which he promises
to do something hereafter. The person who im-
poses or receives the oath, imposes or receives it
on the supposition that the person making it ap-
prehends some evil consequences to himself from
the superior being, if he should violate the oath.
The person taking the oath may or may not fear
such consequences, but the value of the oath in
the eyes of him who receives or imposes it con-
sists in the opinion which he has of its influence
over the person who takes it. An oath may be
taken voluntarily, or it may be imposed on a per-
son under certain circumstances by a political
superior; or it may be the only condition on
which the assertion or declaration of a person
shall be admitted as evidence of any fact. — The
form of taking the oath has varied greatly in
different countries. Among the Greeks a person
sometimes placed his hand on the altar of the
deity by whom he swore; but the forms of oaths
were almost as various as the occasions. Oaths
were often used in judicial proceedings among
the Greeks. The Dicasta”, who were judges and
jurymen, gave their verdict upon oath. The
Heliastic oath is stated at length in the speech of
Demosthenes against Timocrates (c. 36). It does
not appear that the oath was always imposed on
witnesses in judicial proceedings; and yet it ap-
pears that sometimes witnesses gave their evidence
120 VOL. III. — 1
on oath: perhaps the oath on the part of wit-
nesses was generally voluntary. (Demosth., IIpó5
"Aqjo/3ov Pevé, c. 16; Kazó. Köv Govos, c. 10;
and Meier and Schömann, Att. Process., p. 675.)
— In the Roman jurisprudence an oath was
required in some cases from the plaintiff, or the
defendant, or both. Thus the oath of calumny
was required from the plaintiff, which was a
solemn declaration that he did not prosecute his
suit for any fraudulent or malicious purpose. The
offense of false swearing was perjurium, perjury;
but it was considered a less offense in a party to
a suit when the oath was imposed by a judea than
when it was voluntary. It does not appear that
in civil proceedings witnesses were necessarily
examined on Oath; but witnesses appear to have
been examined on oath in the judicia publica,
which were criminal proceedings. The title in
the Digest, “De Testibus” (22, tit. 5), makes no
mention of the oath, though it speaks of punish-
ment being inflicted on witnesses who bore false
testimony. — The law in America and England,
as a rule, requires evidence or testimony for judi-
cial purposes to be given on Oath. A Jew, a
Mohammedan and a Hindoo may be sworn as
witnesses, but they must severally take the oath
in that form which is sanctioned by the usage of
their country or nation, and which they severally
consider to be binding. The offense of declaring
what is false when a witness is examined upon
oath, constitutes perjury. — Declarations made
by a person under the apprehension of immediate
death are generally admitted as evidence in judi-
cial proceedings, when properly verified; for it is
considered that the circumstances in which the
person is placed at the time of making the declar-
ation furnish as strong motives for veracity as
the obligation of an oath. Quakers also, in all
2 OATH.
civil cases, were allowed by the statute 7 & 8
Wm. III., c. 34, to give their evidence on affirm-
ation; and now the affirmation of Quakers and
Moravians is admissible in all judicial proceed-
ings, both civil and criminal. — As oaths may be
either voluntary or may be imposed by a political
superior, so they may be imposed either on extra-
judicial or on judicial occasions. Oaths which
are imposed on Occasion of judicial proceedings
are the most frequent, and the Occasions are the
most important to the interests of society. The
principle on which an oath is administered on
judicial occasions is this: it is supposed that an
additional security is thereby acquired for the
veracity of him who takes the oath. Bentham,
in his “Rationale of Evidence,” on the contrary,
affirms that, “whether principle or experience be
regarded, the oath will be found, in the hands of
justice, an altogether useless instrument; in the
hands of injustice, a deplorably serviceable one;”
“that it is inefficacious to all good purposes,” and
“that it is by no means inefficacious to bad ones.”
— The three great Sanctions or securities for ve-
racity in a witness, or, to speak perhaps more Cor.
rectly, the three great sanctions against mendacity
in a witness, are, the punishment legally imposed
on a person who is convicted of false swearing,
the punishment inflicted by public opinion or the
positive morality of society, and the fear of pun-
ishment from the Deity, in this world or the
next, or in both. The common opinion is, that
all the three sanctions operate on a witness,
though they operate on different witnesses in
very different degrees. A man who does not
believe that the Deity will punish false swearing
can only be under the influence of the first two
sanctions; and if his character is such that it can
not be made worse than it is, he may be under the
influence of the first sanction only. Bentham
affirms that the third sanction only appears to
exercise an influence in any case, because it acts
in conjunction with “the two real and efficient
sanctions,” “the political sanction and the moral
or popular sanction;” and that if it is stripped of
those accompaniments, its impotence will appear
immediately. — Bentham's chief argument is as
follows: “that the supposition of the efficiency
of an oath is absurd in principle. It ascribes to
man a power over his Maker. It supposes the
Almighty to stand engaged, no matter how, but
absolutely engaged, to inflict on every individual
by whom the ceremony, after having been per-
formed, has been profaned, a punishment (no
matter what) which, but for the ceremony and
the profanation, he would not have inflicted. It
Supposes him thus prepared to inflict, at com
mand, and at all times, a punishment, which,
being at all times the same, at no time bears any
proportion to the offense.” Again: “either the
ceremony causes punishment to be inflicted by the
Deity in cases where otherwise it would not have
been inflicted; or it does not. In the former case
the same sort of authority is exercised by man over
the Deity, as that which, in English law, is ex.
ercised over the judge by the legislator, or over
the sheriff by the judge. In the latter case the
ceremony is a mere form without any useful
effect whatever.” — The absurdity of this argu.
ment hardly needs to be exposed. He who ad-
ministers the oath, by virtue of the power which
he has to administer it, and the political superior
who imposes the oath, may either believe or not
believe that the Deity will punish false swearing,
and it is quite immaterial to the question which
of the two opinions they entertain. That which
gives the oath a value in the eyes of him who ad.
ministers it, or of that political superior who
imposes it, is the opinion of the person who takes
the Oath; and if the individual who takes the
oath believes that the Deity, in case it is profaned,
will inflict a punishment which otherwise he
would not inflict, the object of him who enforces
the oath is accomplished, and an additional sanc-
tion against mendacity is secured. It matters
not whether the Deity will punish or not, or
whether he who enforces the oath believes that he
will punish or not: if he who takes the oath
believes that the Deity will punish false swearing,
that is sufficient to show that the oath is of itself
a sanction. — The fear of legal punishment is
admitted by Bentham to be a sanction against
mendacity. But the legal punishment may or
may not overtake the offender. Legal punish-
ment may follow detection, but the perjury may
not be detected, and therefore not punished. Is
the oath, or would a declaration without oath be,
“a mere form without any useful effect what-
ever,” because the legal punishment may not,
and frequently does not, overtake the offender?
When a Greek or a Roman swore by his gods, in
whose existence he believed, and who, being
mere imaginations, could not punish him for his
perjury, was not his belief in their existence and
their power and willingness to punish perjury a
sanction against mendacity? All antiquity at
least thought so. — There are occasions on which
oaths are treated lightly, on which he who im-
poses the oath, he who takes it, and the Com-
munity who are witnesses to it, treat the violation
of it as a trivial matter. Such occasions as these
furnish Bentham with arguments against the
efficacy of oaths on all occasions. Suppose we
admit, with Bentham, as we do merely for the
sake of the argument, that “on Some Occasions
oaths go with the English clergy for nothing;”
and this, notwithstanding the fact, which nobody
can doubt, “that among the English clergy be-
lievers are more abundant than unbelievers.”
The kind of oaths “which go for nothing” are
not mentioned by Bentham, but they may be con-
jectured. Now, if all oaths went for nothing
with the clergy, or with any other body of men,
the dispute would be settled. But this is not the
fact. If in any way it has become the positive
morality of any body of men that a certain kind
of oath should go for nothing, each individual of
that body, with respect to that kind of oath, has
the opinion of his body. He does not believe
OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. 3
that such oath, if broken, will bring on him
divine punishment, and therefore such oath is an
idle ceremony. But if there is any oath the vio-
lation of which he thinks will bring on him
divine punishment, his opinion as to that kind of
oath is not at all affected by his opinion as to the
other kind of oath./ Now, oaths taken on judicial
Occasions are by the mass of mankind considered
to be oaths the violation of which will bring
Some punishment some time, and therefore they
have an influence on the great majority of those
who take them. Whether society will in time so.
far improve as to render it safe to dispense with
this ceremony in judicial proceedings, can not be
affirmed or denied; but a legislator who knows
what man now is, will require better reasons for
the abolition of judicial oaths than Bentham has
given. — How far the requisition of an oath may
be injurious in excluding testimony in certain
cases, and how far oaths on solemn and impor-
tant occasions may be made most efficacious, and
in what cases it may be advisable to substitute
declarations in lieu of oaths, are not matters of
consideration here. It is enough here to show
that an oath is a sanction or security to some ex-
tent, if the person who takes it fears divine pun-
ishment in case he should violate it; and that this,
and no other, is the ground on which the oath is
imposed. — There is some difficulty in stating
accurately how far oaths were required from wit-
nesses in Roman procedure under the republic
and the earlier emperors. In addition to what
has been stated, the readēr may refer to Cicero,
Pro Q. Rosc. Comod., c. 15, etc.; and Noodt,
Op. Omn., ii., 479, “De Testibus.” By a constitu-
tion of Constantine, all witnesses were required
to give their testimony on oath; and this was
again declared by a constitution of Justinian.
(Cod. 4, tit. 20, s. 9, 16, 19.) — Many persons con-
scientiously object to the taking of an oath on
religious grounds, and particularly with refer-
ence to the prohibition in Matthew v., 33. On
the subject of oaths in general the reader may
consult Grotius, De Jure, B. & P., lib. ii., c. 13;
Paley's Moral Philosophy; Tyler's Origin and
History of Oaths; the Law Magazine, vol. xii.;
and the work of Bentham already referred to.”
BOHN.
* In the United States a witness may be sworn in any
manner considered binding on his conscience. Quakers
and others having conscientious scruples against the taking
of an oath under any circumstance, may affirm instead. In
some of the states the witness, whoever he be, may elect
between the taking of an oath and judicial affirmation.
The penalty for the affirmation of what is false by a witness
in a civil or criminal case, is the same as for perjury. —
Besides the judicial and professional oath, there is what the
French call the “political oath,” which in part corresponds
to the oath taken, in countries like the United States, to sup-
port the constitution. Of this latter oath, C. Lavollee says:
“In feudal times, when political society was made up of
suzerains, vassals and serfs, the oath of fealty was but the
necessary or at least logical consecration of the bonds of
submission which united the inferior to his superior. Sub-
sequently, when absolute monarchy, basing itself on divine
right, had survived feudalism, the oath of fealty was retained;
and it could not but be retained, since the sovereign repre-
OATH OF ALLEGIANCE, The (IN ENGLISH
HISTORY). The natural history and antiquity of
Oaths in general were discussed some time ago by
Mr. E. B. Tylor. (Macmillan's Magazine, “Or-
deals and Oaths,” May, 1876.) Mr. Tylor has,
among other interesting points, Inade it all but
Sented both God, whose delegate he was, and the nation, all
of whose rights he absorbed into his own person. The polit-
ical oath was then as logical as it was under the feudal sys-
tem. — The external ceremonies and formulas of the oath
were in keeping with the principle of submission, or rather of
Subjection, which bent the subject at the feet of his master.
The master had all the rights; the subject had only duties.
By the oath the subject solemnly pledged himself to main-
tain a condition of things which he had not brought about,
and which he could not do away with. He fulfilled his
chief duty by promising fidelity to the person whom he recog-
nized as his superior and master. Nothing simpler or
more rational. — The modern law regulating the forms of
government of a people, in the greater number of civilized
states, rests on a totally different principle. Divine right
has joined feudalism in the ruins of history, and has been
replaced by the right of the people. Dynasties no longer
force themselves on a people; they have to be accepted; the
prince is the delegate, the mandatary of national sovereignty;
in such a manner, that by the overthrow of the old order of
things, logically speaking, the prince owes the oath of fealty
to the people, and not the people to the prince. It is so in
certain republics, in which the principle of popular sov-
ereignty has been established from the beginning, and is not
perverted by traditional formalities which had their origin
in the old right of kings. In several constitutional states
the king takes the oath of fealty to the constitution. — Hence
in countries which profess the dogma of popular sovereignty,
the political oath can not be what it was under the old regime.
We might even say that not only has it no raison d’étre, no
reason why it should exist, but that there are reasons
why it should not exist. An oath, with the forms of solem-
nity which surround it, represents in the eyes of men the
idea of an indissoluble and perpetual engagement. But
should the citizen swear to be always faithful to a sovereign
whose rights, created by the national will, may be destroyed
by that same will? Should be swear always to obey and
Support a constitution which the nation may modify or ab-
rogate at any moment? We can understand an oath made
to a superior and immutable being, to God, or to a sovereign
consecrated by divine right; we can understand an oath to
the great principles of truth, probity, honor, duty, princi-
ples universally accepted and respected, implanted by God
in the human conscience, whence they dominate time,
circumstances and laws. But it is very difficult to de-
fine the character and value of an oath given to a remov-
able sovereign, to precarious institutions, made by the very
persons in whom resides the right to change the sovereign
and modify the institutions. In such an act we can see only
a conditional oath, limited by restrictions and hedged in by
reservations; but such an act is not an oath. * * * Not only
is the political oath useless, since it never strengthened or
saved a constitution or a sovereign, but, moreover, it is
sometimes only an instrument of tyranny or violence. * * *
The political oath has not, in the eyes of the people of our
day, the authority which belongs to so solemn an act. It
has not the character of inviolability; it is commented on
and discussed. It is not of rare occurrence, that the person
who takes it harbors, in his innermost soul, a faith different .
from that to which he has just sworn; public opinion no
longer grows indignant at this, nor is it even surprised at it:
sometimes it is an accomplice to the wrong, requiring the
official or other person who takes the oath to remember, at
the moment he takes it, an oath he had previously taken.
This is a deplorable confusion of ideas; for just as there is
but one conscience and one morality, there can be but one
oath: it matters not what we call it, judicial, professional
or political: all oaths impose the same duties and should be
kept with the same fidelity + 4 +. But we must not lose
sight of the fact that, according to modern law, the constitu-
tion of a country may be indefinitely modified by the nation-
al will, so that an oath can be no obstacle in the way of the
4 OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
certain that our formula, “So help me God l’ is
of Scandinavian or pre-Christian origin; a dis-
covery which throws an unexpected light on the
much abused dictum that Christianity is parcel
of the common law of England, and the proposi-
tion, confidently advanced at a later time, that the
oath of allegiance taken by members of parliament
is in some way (notwithstanding the removal of
Jewish disabilities) a bulwark of the Christian
religion in England. This statement, however,
errs Ónly in generality and in being out of date.
It is perfectly true that the oath of allegiance was,
down to the Catholic emancipation, one of the
chief statutory defenses of the Protestant religion,
though in a political rather than a theological sense;
and for many years later it contained a promise
to maintain and support the Protestant succession
to the crown as limited by the act of settlement.
The history of the oaths of allegiance and su-
premacy and of the various transformations they
have undergone, is a varied and complex One. —
Before we go back to the beginning, it may be as
well to look at the end. As late as 1868 the Eng-
lish oath of allegiance was reduced by the promis-
sory oaths act to its present simple, not to say mea-
gre, form, which stands thus: “I, , do swear
that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance
to her majesty Queen Victoria, her heirs and
successors, according to law. So help me God.”
—What the substance of the oath as thus reduced
may amount to would not be a very profitable
question to discuss at large. It certainly does not
promise anything beyond what is at common law
the duty of every subject, and it seems to follow
that it could not be broken except by some act
which was otherwise an offense at common law,
for example, treason or sedition, or perhaps also
the vaguely defined offense of disparaging the
dignity of the crown. And it seems at least a
tenable view that the words “according to law "
not only express the limit within which the crown
is entitled to obedience, but cover the possibility
(a possibility, fortunately, of the most remote
desires or of the proposals of reform which it is the right of
every citizen to express in a legal way. The oath itself
would be opposed to the constitution if it held the person
taking it within bounds which would prevent him from ex-
ercising that right. With the oath as governments have
always wished to interpret it, it would be possible to confis-
cate the national will for all time. Revolution has too fre-
quently undertaken the task of answering that pretense. * *
Says M. Odilon Barrot, ‘Oaths are taken or refused, but not
discussed. The sanction of the oath being entirely in the
conscience, the strength of the oath is entirely in the moral-
ity of the person who takes it.” In political matters, more
than in any other, it is the character of the man which gives
authority to the oath. * * Let the politician, functionary or
civil magistrate take an oath to the law, the soldier to his
flag, and every citizen to what to him is duty: such, in our
opinion, is the simple and easy solution of this much de-
bated question. In politics everything is variable, uncertain
and precarious. In the midst of the crumbling of thrones
and constitutions which our generation has witnessed,
we should like to have pointed out to us a form of govern-
ment or a dynasty certain to grow old with its oaths. But
duty is, and will always subsist. Let men take an oath of
fealty to it.” The “political oath " here spoken of is very
intimately related on one side to the oath of allegiance.—ED.
kind) of the course of succession being legally
varied.” Such is the bare residue of the formida-
ble and elaborate fabric of Oaths and declarations
raised up by parliaments of former generations
against the pope and the pretender. We say
against the pope and the pretender; for our mod-
ern oaths of allegiance are of statutory devising,
and date from Henry VIII.'s assertion of the
crown's ecclesiastical supremacy as against the see
of Rome. The earliest point of history we have to
observe is of a distinguishing kind, namely, that
the modern oath of allegiance is a thing apart from
the older oath of fealty, though formed on its
analogy. Side by side with the fealty due from a
man to his lord in respect to tenure, there was
recognized in England, it would seem as early as
the tenth century, an obligation of fealty to the
crown as due from every free man without regard
to tenure.} — Sometimes we find mixed or transi-
tional forms. Thus, there is preserved among the
so-called statutes temporis incert; an oath taken by
bishops, which, translated, is as follows: “I will
be faithful and true, and faith and loyalty will bear
to the king and to his heirs kings of England, of
life and of member and of earthly honour, against
all people who may live and die; and truly will ac-
knowledge, and freely will do, the services which
belong to the temporalty of the bishoprick of N.,
which I claim to hold of you, and which you ren-
der to me. So help me God and the Saints.”f
— This bears considerable generic resemblance to
the modern oath. But it is not simply an Oath of
allegiance in the modern sense: it includes an
oath of fealty in respect of a specific tenure,
namely, for the temporalities of the see holden of
the crown. This is made more evident by compari-
son of the common forms of a free man's homage
and fealty: “I become your man from this day
forth, for life, for member and for worldly honour,
and shall bear you faith for the lands that I claim
to hold of you; saving the faith that I owe unto
* There is, I conceive, nothing in law to prevent the crown,
by and with the consent of the estates of the realm, in the
ordinary form of an act of parliament, and with the advice
of responsible ministers, from repealing or amending the act
of settlement. In the event of its appearing likely that there
should be a failure of the persons thereby defined as capable
of succession, amendment would become necessary; for
example, if they should not be or should cease to be Pro-
testants.
+ It is remarkable that in the assize of Northampton (1176)
the justices are directed to take the oath of fealty even from
“rustics” : “Item, justätäde capìant domini regis fidelitates
* * ab omnibus, Scălăcet comitábus, baronibus, militābus et
libere tementibus, et etiam rusticis, Qui in regno manéré
voluerint.” Does this include men who were not free? In
the earliest forms of the oath of ſealty to the king, both in
England and elsewhere, the promise was to be “fidelis Sicut
homo debet esse domż720 sºlo.” Allen (“Royal Prerogative,”
pp. 68–71) thinks this was a limitation of the subject's obe-
dience, or reservation of his right to throw off allegiance if
the king failed in his duties, and this is probable. But the
words would likewise operate in the king's interest by add-
ing the stricter personal bond of homage to the more general
obligation of fealty.
+ Bishops after consecration swore fealty only; but on
their election, and before consecration, they did homage.
Glanvill, Jib. 9, cap. 1, ad fin.
OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. 6
our lord the king * * I shall be to you faith-
ful and true, and shall bear you faith of the tene-
ments I claim to hold of you, and loyally will
acknowledge and will do the services I owe you
at the times assigned. So help me God and the
Saints.” — Moreover, the ceremonies of homage
and fealty have in no way been abrogated or
superseded by any of the statutes imposing politi-
cal oaths. In England an oath of homage is
to this day taken by archbishops and bishops, in
a somewhat fuller form than the old one above
cited. An oath of fealty is stated in our law
books of the thirteenth century to be required
from every one attending the sheriff’s tourn, and
Coke speaks of it in Calvin’s case, as if it had
been still in use in his time.* There appears
no reason why this oath of fealty should not
in theory still be due from every subject at com-
mon law, though it would be doubtful who had
authority to administer it, and what would be
the legal consequence, if any, of a refusal to
take it. — Shortness of time and space, how-
ever, forbid the further discussion of the doc-
trine or history of allegiance at common law.
We must pass on to the additional obligations
imposed by a series of statutes, from which the
oath of allegiance in its existing form and applica-
tion is lineally derived. – In the spring of 1534,
when the last hopes of a reconciliation with Rome
were exhausted, there was passed “An act for
the establishment of the king's succession,”
(25 H. VIII., c. 22), the objects of which were to
declare valid the king's marriage with Anne
Boleyn, and to limit the succession of the crown
to his issue by her. It also enacted that all sub-
jects of full age should make a corporal oath that
they would “truly, firmly and constantly, with-
out fraud or guile, observe, fulfill, maintain, de-
fend and keep to their cunning wit and uttermost
of their powers, the whole effect and contents of
this present act.” The oath was not further
specified in the act itself, but a form was at once
prepared and used, and was expressly authorized
by statute in the next session. (26 H. VIII., c. 2.)
This, as the earliest specimen of its kind, deserves
the honor of being given in full, with the original
spelling: “Ye shall swere to beare faith, truth and
obedyence alonely to the Kynges Majestye and to
his heires of his body of his moost dere and entire-
ly belovyd laufull wyfe Quene Anne, begotten or
to be begotten. And further to the heires of oure
said Soveraign Lorde accordyng to the lymytacion
in the Statute made for Suretie of his succession in
* Strictly there is not any oath of homage distinct from
the oath of fealty. The oath was always an oath of fealty,
and the duty of homage, where it was present, carried with
it the duty of swearing fealty to the lord. On the other
hand, there might be, and often was, fealty without hom-
age. (Allen, p. 62. Cp. Hargrave's and Butler's Notes on
Co. Litt., 68a.) Homage was the privilege of the freeholder,
being “the most honourable service, and most humble ser-
vice of reverence, that a franktenant may do to his lord.”
(Litt., S. 85.) As to the common-law duty, cp. Selden,
“Table Talk,” s. v. “Fathers and Sons,” “Every one at
twelve years of age is to take the oath of allegiance in
court-leets [sic] whereby he swears obedience to the king.”
the crowne of this Realme mencioned and con-
teyned, and not to any other within this Realme
nor foreyn auctorite or Potentate; And in case any
othe be made or hathe be made by you to any
persone or persones, that then ye do repute the
same as vayne and adnychillate; And that to your
connynge wytte and utter moste of your power,
without gyle, fraude or other undue meane, you
shall observe, kepe, mayntene & defende the Saide
acte of successyon, and all the hole effectes & Con-
tentes therof, and all other actes and statutes
made yn confirmacion or for execucion of the
same or of any thynge therin conteyned; and this
ye shall do ayenst all maner of persones of what
estate, dignyte, degree or condicion so ever they
be; And in no wyse do or attempte, nor to your
power suffre to be done or attemptid, directly or
indirectly, any thinge or thinges prively or ap-
partlye to the lette, hindrannce, damage or deroga-
cion therof or of any parte of the same by any
maner of meanes or for any maner of pretence;
So helpe you God, all Sayntes and the Holye
Evangelystes.”— Within two years the calami-
tous end of the marriage with Anne Boleyn
brought about a new “Act for the establishment
of the succession of the imperial crown of this
realm,” (28 H. VIII., c. 7), which, after repealing
the former acts and making minute provision for
the descent of the crown, appointed a new Oath
of allegiance, and declared that refusal to take it
should be deemed and adjudged high treason.
There is no variation worth noticing in the form
of the words, save that Queen Jane is substituted
for Queen Anne. In the same session (c. 10) there
followed an “Act extinguishing the authority of
the bishop of Rome,” which introduced a special
oath of abjuration. The preamble is a notable
specimen of the inflated parliamentary style of
the time. It sets forth how “the pretended power
and usurped authority of the bishop of Rome, by
some called the pope, * did obfuscate and
wrest God’s holy word and testament a long season
from the spiritual and true meaning thereof to his
worldly and carnal affections, as pomp, glory, ava-
rice, ambition and tyranny, covering and shadow-
ing the same with his human and politic devices,
traditions and inventions, set forth to promote
and stablish his only dominion, both upon the
souls and also the bodies and goods of all Chris-
tian people”; how the pope not only robbed the
king's majesty of his due rights and pre-eminence,
“but spoiled this his realm yearly of innumerable
treasure”; and how the king and the estates of
the realm, “being overwearied and fatigated with
the experience of the infinite abominations and
mischiefs preceding of his impostures,” were
forced of necessity to provide new remedies.
The oath of abjuration was to be taken by all
officers, ecclesiastical and temporal, and contained
an undertaking to “utterly renounce, refuse, re-
linquish or forsake the bishop of Rome and his
authority, power and jurisdiction.” – In 1544,
however, it had been discovered that in these
Oaths of allegiance and supremacy, though they
6 OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
seem to a modern reader pretty stringent and
comprehensive, “there lacketh full and sufficient
words”; and in the act further regulating the
succession to the crown (35 H. VIII., c. 1) occa-
sion was taken to provide a new consolidated form
to replace the two previously appointed oaths.
This is very full and elaborate ; some of its
language survived down to our own times, as
will be seen by the following extract: “I, A B,
having now the veil of darkness of the usurped
power, authority and jurisdiction of the see and
bishop of Rome clearly taken away from mine
eyes, do utterly testify and declare in my con-
science that neither the see nor the bishop of
Rome nor any foreign potentate hath, nor ought
to have, any jurisdiction, power or authority
within this realm, neither by God’s law nor by
any other just law or means, * * and that I
shall never consent nor agree that the foresaid
see or bishop of Rome, or any of their successors,
shall practice, exercise or have any manner of
authority, jurisdiction or power within this realm
or any other the king's realms or dominions, nor
any foreign potentate, of what estate, degree or
condition soever he be, but that I shall resist
the same at all times to the uttermost of my
power, and that I shall bear faith, truth and true
allegiance to the king's majesty and to his heirs and
successors, * * and that I shall accept, repute
and take the king's majesty, his heirs and suc-
cessors, when they or any of them shall enjoy his
place, to be the only Supreme head in earth under
God of the church of England and Ireland, and
of all other his highness’ dominions * *.”—
Refusal to take the oath is, as before, to subject the
recusant to the penalties of high treason. Appar-
ently this act remained in force till Mary’s acces-
sion, in 1553. One of the first proceedings of her
reign was to abolish all statutory treasons not
within the statute of Edward III., by which the
offense of high treason was and still is defined.
(1 Mar., St. 1, c. 1.) Thus, the penalty for not
taking the oath of allegiance and supremacy was
abrogated, and the Oath of course became a dead
letter, though not dealt with in express terms.
Nor was it revived in the same form when the
reformation again got the upper hand with the
accession of Elizabeth. The first act of parlia-
ment of her reign *—which, in repealing the
reactionary legislation of Philip and Mary, names
“Queen Mary, your highness’ sister,” with a
significant absence of honorable additions—cre-
ated a new and much more concise oath of su-
premacy and allegiance, to be made by all eccle-
siastical officers and ministers, and all temporal
officers of the crown, and also by all persons
taking Orders or university degrees. It is short
enough to be cited in full: “I, A B, do utterly
testify and declare in my conscience that the
Queen's highness is the only supreme governor
of this realm and of all other her highness’
* 1 Eliz., c. 1. In the argument in Miller vs. Salomons, in
the Exchequer (7 Ex., at p. 478), it was erroneously stated
to be the first statute on the subject.
dominions and countries, as well in all spiritual or
ecclesiastical things or causes as temporal, and
that no foreign prince, person, prelate, state or
potentate hath or ought to have any jurisdiction,
power, Superiority, pre-eminence or authority,
ecclesiastical or spiritual, within this realm, and
therefore I do utterly renounce and forsake all
foreign jurisdictions, powers, superiorities and
authorities, and do promise that from henceforth
I shall bear faith and true allegiance to the queen's
highness, her heirs and lawful successors, and to
my power shall assist and defend all jurisdictions,
pre-eminences, privileges and authorities granted
or belonging to the queen's highness, her heirs
and successors, or united or annexed to the im-
perial crown of this realm. So help me God and
by [sic] the contents of this Book.” — The oath
was not imposed on all subjects, and the only
penalty for refusing it was forfeiture of the office
in respect of which it ought to be taken. So far
this presents a very favorable contrast to the vio-
lent legislation of Henry VIII. Under the act of
Elizabeth the sanction is the mildest one compat-
ible with the law being effectual; indeed, it is
not properly a penalty, but a condition. The
law no longer says to all sorts of men, “You
must take this oath or be punished as a traitor,”
but only to men receiving office or promotion,
“You must take this oath to qualify yourself for
holding the place.” But troubles were not long
in gathering, and they bore their natural fruit in
a return to disused severities. A new and more
stringent anti-papal act was passed in 1563 (5
Eliz., c. 1), and it seems that even sharper meas-
ures had been first proposed. The obligation to
take the oath of supremacy was extended to all
persons taking orders and degrees, schoolmasters,
barristers, attorneys, and officers of all courts.
A first refusal to take the oath was to entail the
penalties of premumºre; a second, those of high
treason. Temporal peers were specially exempt-
ed., “forasmuch as the queen’s majesty is other-
wise sufficiently assured of the faith and loy-
alty of the temporal lords of her highness’ court
of parliament.” So matters stood till, early in
the reign of James I., yet a new outbreak of
indignation and panic was produced by the gun-
powder plot. The Protestant majority was con-
vinced by “that more than barbarous and hor-
rible attempt to have blownen up with gunpowder
the king, queen, prince, lords and commons,
in the house of parliament assembled, tending
to the utter subversion of the whole state,”
that popish recusants and occasionally conform-
ing papists should be more sharply looked after.
Hence the “Act for the better discovering and
repressing of popish recusants” (3 Jas. I., c. 4),
which established, among other precautions, a
wordy Oath of allegiance, supremacy and ab:
juration, which might be tendered by justices of
assize or of the peace to any commoner above the
age of eighteen; persons refusing it were to incur
the penalties of premumºre. This oath contains
an explicit denial of the pope's authority to de-
OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. 7
pose the king or discharge subjects of their alle-
giance, a promise to bear allegiance to the crown
notwithstanding any papal sentence of excom-
munication or deprivation, and a disclaimer Of all
equivocation or mental evasion or reservation.
About the middle of if OCCIlrs for the first time
the ‘‘damnable doctrine and position” clause, as
we may call it, which was long afterward con-
tinued in the interests of the Protestant succession
against James II. and the pretender. The words
are these: “And I do further swear that I do from
my heart abhor, detest and abjure, as impious
and heretical, this damnable doctrine and position,
that princes which be excommunicated or de-
prived by the pope may be deposed or mur-
dered by their subjects or any other whosoever.”
Here also we find the words, afterward discussed
in relation to the admission of Jews to parlia-
ment, “upon the true faith of a Christian.”
They can not have been particularly intended to
exclude Jews from office, as Jews were at that
time excluded from the realm altogether. It has
been plausibly conjectured that their real inten-
tion was to clinch the proviso against mental
reservation or equivocation “by conclusively fix-
ing a sense to that oath which by no evasion or
mental reservation should be got rid of without
(even in the opinion of the Jesuit doctors them-
selves) incurring the penalty of mortal sin.” For
in a certain treatise on Equivocation, of which a
copy corrected in Garnet’s handwriting was found
in the chamber of Francis Tresham, One of the
conspirators named in the act, and was much
used on the trial, this point of mental reservation
is fully discussed; and it is laid down that equiv.
ocation and reservation may be used without
danger to the soul even if they are expressly dis-
claimed in the form of the oath itself. But there
is this exception, that “no person is allowed to
equivocate or mentally reserve, without danger,
if he does so, of incurring mortal sin, where his
doing so brings apparently his true faith toward
God into doubt or dispute.” It was probably
conceived by the advisers of the crown that the
words, “upon the true faith of a Christian,”
brought the statutory form of oath within this
exception. (Judgment of Baron Alderson in
Miller vs. Salomons, 7 Ex. 536, 537.) A few
years later, in the session of 1610, a sort of con-
firming act was passed (7 James I., c. 6), which
made minute provision as to the places where, and
the officers by whom, the oath should be admin-
istered to various classes of persons. – Shortly
after the restoration an oath declaring it unlawful
upon any pretense whatever to take arms against
the king, was imposed on all soldiers and persons
holding military offices (14 Car. II., c. 3, ss. 17, 18);
and the act of uniformity (14 Car. II., c. 4, s. 6)
contained a declaration to the like effect, and also
against the solemn league and covenant. A simi-
lar provision in the corporation act was overlooked
at the revolution, and escaped repeal till the reign
of George I. In 1672 a revival of the anti-Cath-
olic agitation followed upon Charles II.'s attempts
{}}
to dispense with the existing statutes, nominally
in favor of Romanists and Dissenters equally, by
a declaration of liberty of conscience. The result
was, that a declaration against transubstantiation
was added to the oaths of allegiance and suprem-
acy, by a new penal statute entitled “An act for
preventing dangers which may happen from
popish recusants,” (25 Car. II., c. 2). After the
revolution of 1688, however, a new start was
taken. By the combined effect of two of the
earliest acts of the convention parliament (1 Will.
& Mar., c. 1 and c. 8), all the previous forms of
the oaths of allegiance and Supremacy, expressly
including the declaration as to taking arms against
the king, were abrogated, and a concise form sub-
stituted, which stood as follows: “I, A B, do
sincerely promise and swear that I will be faithful
and bear true allegiance to their majesties King
William and Queen Mary. So help me God,
etc.” I, A B, do swear that I do from my heart
abhor, detest and abjure, as impious and heretical,
that damnable doctrine and position that princes
excommunicated or deposed by the pope or any
authority of the see of Rome may be deposed or
murthered by their subjects or any other whatso-
ever. And I do declare that no foreign prince,
person, prelate, states or potentate hath or ought
to have any jurisdiction, power, superiority, pre-
eminence or authority, ecclesiastical or spiritual,
within this realm. So help me God, etc.” – In
1701 came the death of James II. at St. Ger-
mains, and the Ostentatious recognition of the
pretender as king of England by Louis XIV.
Fuller and more stringent precautions were again
thought needful, and in the very last days of
William III.’s life an act was passed (13 & 14
Wm. III., c. 6), imposing on specified classes of
persons, including peers, members of the house
of commons, and all holding office under the
crown, an oath of special and particular abjura-
tion of the pretender's title. The declaration of
1672 against transubstantiation (which had been
spared from the general abrogation of other exist-
ing tests at the beginning of the reign) was at
the same time expressly continued. As the form
settled by this act remained substantially un-
changed down to our own time, it is here set out:
“I, A B, do truly and sincerely acknowledge,
profess, testify and declare in my conscience be-
fore God and the world, that our sovereign lord
King William is lawful and rightful king of this
realm and of all other his majesty’s dominions
and countries thereunto belonging. And I do
solemnly and sincerely declare that I do believe
in my conscience that the person pretended to be
the prince of Wales during the life of the late
King James and since his decease pretending to
be and taking upon himself the stile and title of
king of England by the name of James the Third,
hath not any right or title whatsoever to the crown
of this realm or any other the dominions thereto
* The “etc.” means, I suppose, “and the contents of this
Book.” -
S - OATH OF ALLEGIANCE.
belonging. And I do renounce, refuse and ab-
jure any allegiance or obedience to him. And
I do swear that I will bear faith and true alle-
giance to his majesty, King William, and him
will defend to the utmost of my power against
all traitorous conspiracies and attempts what-
soever which shall be made against his person,
crown or dignity. And I will do my best en-
deavours to disclose and make known to his
majesty and his successors all treasons and
traitorous conspiracies which I shall know to be
against him or any of them. And I do faithfully
promise to the utmost of my power to support,
maintain and defend the limitation and succession
of the crown against him the said James and all
other persons whatsoever as the same is and
stands limited (by an act instituted an act declar-
ing the rights and liberties of the subject and
settling the succession of the crown) to his maj-
esty during his majesty’s life, and, after his
majesty’s decease, to the Princess Ann of Den-
mark and the heirs of her body being Protestants,
and for default of issue of the said princess
and of his majesty respectively, to the Princess
Sophia, electoress and duchess dowager of Hano-
ver, and the heirs of her body being Protestants.
And all these things I do plainly and sincerely
acknowledge and swear according to these express
words by me spoken, and according to the plain
and common sense understanding of the same
words, without any equivocation, mental evasion
or secretreservation whatsoever. And I do make
this recognition, acknowledgment, abjuration,
renunciation and promise, heartily, willingly and
truly, upon the true faith of a Christian. So help
me God.” — This oath was in addition to the oaths
of allegiance and supremacy prescribed by the
acts already mentioned of the first session of
William and Mary’s reign, not by way of substi-
tution for them. It will be observed that the
words “upon the true faith of a Christian * now
reappear. In Queen Anne's reign the only alter-
ations made were, first to put Anne's name for
William's, and then to leave a blank to be filled
in with the name of the sovereign for the time
being.” The accession of George I., in 1714, gave
occasion for a full re-enactment of the oaths of
allegiance, supremacy and abjuration, in what
would now be called a consolidating act. (1 Geo.
I., st. 2, c. 13.) All persons holding civil or mil-
itary office, members of foundations at the uni-
versities, schoolmasters, “preachers and teachers
of separate congregations,” and legal practition-
ers, were required to take the oaths; besides which,
they might be tendered by two justices of the
peace to any one suspected of disaffection. Mem-
bers of both houses of parliament are, as before,
specially forbidden to vote without taking the
oaths. The form was settled by inserting the
name of George in the blank left by the last
statute of Anne, but no provision was made in
* 1 Anne, c. 16, 4 & 5 Anne, c. 20; and as to Scotland,
6 Anne, c. 66 (Statutes of the Realm, c. 14, in other edi-
tions). }
terms for substituting from time to time the name
of the reigning sovereign. In 1766, upon the
pretender's death, the oath of abjuration was
made appropriate to the new state of things by
inserting the words “not any of the descendants
of the person who pretended to be the prince of
Wales,” etc. — In this form the oaths remained
for nearly a century, affected only by a certain
number of special exemptions. The most im-
portant of these was made by the Catholic eman-
cipation of 1829. The act which effected this
(10 Geo. IV., c. 7) allowed Roman Catholics to sit
in parliament, taking, instead of the Oaths of
allegiance, Supremacy and abjuration, a single
modified oath containing the substance of them
expressed in a milder form. The Catholic mem-
ber was required, instead of detesting and abhor-
ring the ‘‘damnable doctrine and position,” to
“renounce, reject and abjure the opinion” that
excommunicated princes might be deposed or mur-
dered; and to disclaim the belief that the pope of
Rome or any other foreign prince had or Ought
to have any temporal or civil jurisdiction, etc.,
within this realm. The words “upon the true
faith of a Christian ’’ were for some reason
omitted, and the oath concluded thus: “And I
do solemnly, in the presence of God, profess,
testify and declare, that I do make this declar-
ation, and every part thereof, in the plain and
ordinary sense of the words of this oath, with-
out any evasion, equivocation or mental reserva-
tion whatsoever.” This act contains, for the
first time, a standing direction to substitute in
the form of the oath, as may be required, the
name of the sovereign for the time being. — All
this time the penalties of the statute of 1714
against a member of parliament who voted with-
out having taking the oaths (or, in the Case of
a Catholic, the special oath provided by the
Catholic relief act), continued in force, and very
alarming they were. In addition to the pecun-
iary forfeiture of £500, they included disability
to sue in any court, to take a legacy, to hold
any office, and to vote at parliamentary elections.
Disability to be an executor, which is also in the
list, would at this day be regarded by many per-
sons as rather a benefit than otherwise. — The next
step was in consequence of the persistent endeav-
ors made through several years to procure the re-
moval of Jewish disabilities. It would be too long
to trace the history of this movement through its
various stages; and the episode of Mr. Salomons'
gallant attempt to take the position by a coup de
main has now lost its interest for most people
except lawyers who have a taste for ingenious
argument on the construction and effect of
statutes. In 1857 Mr. Salomons, being duly
elected for Greenwich, took the oath on the Old
Testament, omitting the words “upon the true
+ One of the minor points taken by Mr. Salomons' coun-
sel was that, as the act of George III. did not authorize
the insertion from time to time of the reigning sovereigns'
names, it expired at the end of the reign, or at all events
when there ceased to be a king named George.
OATH OF ALLEGIANCE. 9
faith of a Christian"; he was sued for the statu-
tory penalty, as having sat without taking the
oath; and it was decided (with one dissenting
voice, but a weighty one)* that these words were
a material part of the oath, and could not be dis-
pensed with otherwise than by legislation. At
last, in 1858, a very odd and peculiarly English
compromise was arrived at after the house of
lords had rejected bills sent up from the commons.
By one act (21 & 22 Vict., c. 48) a simplified form
of oath, but still containing the words “upon the
true faith of a Christian,” was substituted for the
Oaths of allegiance, Supremacy and abjuration in all
cases where they were required to be taken. The
application of this enactment to clerical subscrip-
tions was afterward more especially regulated by
the clerical subscription act, 1865 (28 & 29 Vict., c.
122). H. Then, by a separate act (21 & 22 Vict., c.
49), either house of parliament was empowered to
permit by resolution “a person professing the
Jewish religion, otherwise entitled to sit and vote
in such house,” to take the oath, with the omis-
Sion of the Words, “and I make this declaration
upon the true faith of a Christian.” It was also
provided, that in all other cases where the oath of
allegiance was required to be taken by a Jew,
these words might be omitted. Such an exemp-
tion had once already been given by parliament
in the eighteenth century, but, after the fashion of
legislation in those days, only on a special occasion
and for a limited purpose; and more recently to
enable Jews to hold municipal offices. The act
Of 1858, being general in its terms, is a full statu-
tory recognition of the civil equality of Jews with
other British subjects, which, though long allowed
in practice, had never yet been expressly declared.
—At length, in 1866, we come out into the day-
light of modern systematic legislation. The par-
liamentary oaths act of that year (29 Wict., c. 19)
swept away the former legislation relating to the
oaths of members of parliament, and prescribed
the following shortened form: “I, A B, do
Swear that I will be faithful and bear true alle-
giance to her majesty Queen Victoria; and I do
faithfully promise to maintain and support the
succession to the crown, as the same stands lim-
ited and settled by virtue of the act passed in
the reign of King William the Third, instituted
‘An act for the further limitation f of the crown,
and better Securing the rights and liberties of the
Subject,’ and of the subsequent acts of union
with Scotland and Ireland. So help me God.”
— For not taking the oaths only the pecuniary
penalty of £500 was retained out of the terrible
* Sir Samuel Martin's, then a baron of the exchequer, and
now the only survivor, as it happens, of the judges before
whom the case was argued.
t The Oaths of allegiance, etc., were enforced on the
clergy by Charles II.'s act of uniformity and various other
Statutes. The taking of them was part of the ordination
service until separated from it by this act.
f It may be worth while to explain to lay readers that
this does not mean limiting the powers of the crown, but
defining the course of the succession.
list enacted by earlier statutes. This act was ex-
cellent as far as it went, but it applied only to
members of parliament. It is the fate of English
legislation to be carried on as best it can, piece-
meal, and at Odd times. Measures which excite
opposition pass through a struggle in which they
are lucky if they escape without maim or grave
disfigurement. As to those which do not excite
opposition, it is for that very reason of no ap-
parent political importance to push them on, and,
as it is worth nobody’s while to be much interested
in them, they have to take their chance. In this
case an act of the following year (the office and
oath act, 1867, 30 & 31 Vict., c. 75) authorized the
new parliamentary form of oath to be taken in all
cases where the oath of allegiance was required
as a qualification for office. Finally, the promis-
sory oaths act of 1868 (31 & 32 Wict., c. 72) cut
down the oath of allegiance in all cases to the form
already given at the beginning of this paper, and
substituted a declaration for an oath in the great
majority of cases where an oath was formerly
required. Still the work of simplification was not
formally complete. A repealing act was passed
in 1871 (34 & 35 Vict., c. 48), which struck off the
statute book a long list of enactments imposing
Oaths for various purposes on various persons,
and others partially amending or repealing them,
from the middle of the fourteenth century down-
ward. And so the story ends for the present;
England no longer stands in fear of pope or pre-
tender, and the modern oath of allegiance, de-
vised for the protection of the realm against foe.
men and conspirators, and swollen with strange
imprecations and scoldings, is brought back to the
more plain and seemly fashion of the ancient
Oath of fealty. Yet our English ancestors were
not capricious in the elaborate safeguards which
they built up again and again round a ceremony
Originally of the simplest. Every clause and
almost every word in the statutory oaths of alle-
giance, Supremacy and abjuration was directed
against a distinct and specific political danger.
It is unhappily true that examples of repressive
legislation against mere speculative opinions,
though less common in England than elsewhere,
are by no means wanting. But the political test
oaths do not belong to this class. They were
framed to discover and bring to punishment, or
to disable and exclude from privileges, not the
holders of theological opinions as such, but persons
holding opinions, of which, rightly or wrongly,
disloyal and seditious behavior was supposed to
be the necessary or highly probable result. The
attempt lately made, and for the present made with
success, to use the parliamentary oath as a relig-
ious test, and thereby exclude a person obnoxious
to a majority of the house of commons, partly for
theological but much more for politica, and social
reasons, has nothing to justify it in English his-
tory, or in the traditions of English politics. It is
an unhappy example of the ignorance and con-
fusion of mind concerning the institutions of their
own country which are still too common among
1()
OCCUPATION.
English legislators. (See ALLEGIANCE, and the
note to the preceding article.)
FREDERICK POLLOCK.
OCCUPATION. I. Of the different mean-
ings of this word, that which has the longest ex-
ercised the ingenuity of publicists relates to the
manner of acquiring lands which up to the time
of acquisition had no owner. The occupation of
such lands, that is, the taking of effective posses-
sion of them, is one of the means of obtaining the
right of property in them. The individual who
discovers an uninhabited island, which constitutes
no part of an established state, may appropriate
it, cultivate it and dispose of it, and the more
labor he expends upon it the less contestable is his
title thereto. If the island forms part of a state,
he can not acquire the ownership of it, unless the
laws recognize the rights of the first occupant, or
he can acquire these rights only on the conditions
provided by the laws of the country. Thus, in the
United States, the land which belongs to no one in
particular forms part of the domain of the Union;
it is not, strictly speaking, without an owner; and
hence the first occupant has only a limited right, the
right of pre-emption of such land. But to proceed
with the hypothesis of a desert island. A Euro-
pean, let us suppose, discovers such an island in the
Pacific Ocean, and takes effective possession of it.
It does not suffice for this purpose to erect a post,
and nail a board to it, with a notice of the taking
of possession, and do nothing further; the occu-
pation and exploitation of the land are absolutely
necessary. Our European is assuredly the pro-
prietor of this island by private title, or from the
standpoint of the civil law, but is he also its
political lord? He can only be so in one case; if
he has previously freed himself from the bonds
which attach him to his own country. As long
as he remains a Frenchman, a German or an
Englishman, his status follows him, his country
retains its rights over him, he nationalizes or nat-
uralizes the objects which become his property,
for, in many respects, property, at least movable
property, is an accessory of the man. The power
of a citizen, however, to cause an accession of
land in favor of his country is not unlimited,
for the power of his country is not unlimited.
Just as his personal status follows him wherever
he goes, while his real status (immovable prop-
erty) necessarily remains subject to the territorial
laws of his country; so his right of extending the
boundaries of the nation to which he belongs may
be contested. In other words, the right of an in-
dividual to take possession of land in the name of
his government may be questioned. The law on
this point is not well settled, for the reason that
the facts in cases of this kind have not greatly
varied. An individual might live on an island,
lost in the Ocean, and enjoy sovereignty, because
no one cares to disturb him. He might also feel
the need of protection, and ask it of his native
country; but the latter is the judge of what he
may with propriety do. It can grant or refuse its
protection.
It will never grant that an individual
can bind it without a commission to do so, and it
is free not to ratify the taking of possession; but
if it wishes to accord its protection, if it consents
to cover with its flag the domain which has come
to it by accession, it must do so by a formal or
express act; it is for the government to take pos-
session. The official occupation of land without
an owner, by the agents of a government, consti-
tutes a mode of acquisition fully recognized by
international law. This mode of acquisition has
been used and abused, but in proportion as the
earth becomes peopled, there is less occasion to
have recourse to it. — II. Up to this point there
has only been in question the occupation of a terri-
tory without an owner, but there is also such a
thing as the occupation of an inhabited country.
A victorious army, which invades a country, oc-
cupies it in part or in whole, and sometimes during
a long period. We shall not stop to discuss an
occupation which lasts days or weeks, and the
near end of which may be foreseen. The invader
should be humane, should demand only those
things which he needs for his support, and should
destroy nothing, except to defend himself or as an
act of war. He should not destroy simply for
the sake of destruction. If the Occupation is a
lengthy one, matters become complicated, and a
great number of questions arise. In such case
evidently the power which occupies a country has
become its master; it exercises there the rights of
sovereignty, levies taxes, makes the necessary laws,
and, if need be, administers justice; but it pos-
sesses only sovereignty de facto, and not sover-
eignty de jure. Thus, the inhabitants do not lose
their nationality, the civil relations between the
citizens of the country occupied remain intact,
and the laws continue in force, save those which
the conqueror has expressly repealed, modified or
suspended. A crime committed during the Occu-
pation is punishable by the tribunals of the coun-
try, even after the conclusion of peace. An alien,
even if he belongs to the nationality of the con-
queror, but is not a part of the army, remains sub-
ject to the laws of the invaded country, and he
may, if the statutes of limitation do not prevent
it, be arrested after the declaration of peace, for
the crimes he may have committed at a time when
the courts perhaps were not in a condition strictly
to enforce the law. — Unless the commander of the
invading army decides to the contrary, the admin-
istrative authorities may remain at their posts,
and maintain their governmental order. The
courts may continue to administer justice, and it
is even their duty to do so as long as there are no
serious moral or material obstacles in the Way.
They administer justice in the name of their sov-
ereign. In the Franco-German war a very pecul-
iar difficulty arose. During the war, the revolution
of the 4th of September having changed the form
of the French government, and the Germans not
having yet recognized the republic, they thought
that they could not permit justice to be adminis-
tered in their presence, in the name of the repub-
OCEANICA.
11
lic, without seeming to recognize it; they there-
fore requested that the court of Nancy and several
other courts should sit in the name of the “Occu-
pying governments,” which these courts rightly
refused to do. The Germans were doubly mis-
ſhken: ſirst, in asking that justicc should be admin
istered in their name; and secondly, in supposing
that the administration of justice in the name
of the republic implied on their part a recognition
of its government. They were supposed, or might
have been supposed, to ignore the proceedings of
the courts, as long as the magistrates had nothing
to do with the war, and their judgments and
decrees affected only private interests. – III. We
have again the occupation of a country by way of
pledge, as for instance, for the payment of a war
indemnity. In cases of this kind the details of
the mode of occupation are generally regulated
by treaty. However, as a state of peace has here
succeeded that of war, all public services are re-
sumed and directed by the national government,
and the commander of the army of occupation
has no power but such as is necessary for the
security of his troops. He can not levy taxes,
nor demand any contributions except those stip-
ulated for in the treaty; but if the local author-
ities are unable to preserve his safety, he has the
right to protect himself. The inhabitants of the
occupied country should have the patriotism to
avoid giving him any serious ground of complaint.
A calm dignity is always more noble than daring
but ill-judged annoyance. Occupation may also
be a mode of coercion, of compelling the fulfill-
ment of a contract. For example, if one of the
German countries did not submit to some one of
the provisions of the federal constitution, the em-
peror might send troops of occupation into such
country, which would act as a sort of bailiff at
the expense of the country occupied. But the
state of peace would not necessarily be interrupted,
and the civil authorities would continue to dis-
charge their functions as usual. These two kinds
of occupation may be considered as legal meas-
ures, but history has also recorded, and much too
frequently, occupations more or less well (we
should say illy) justified by policy. These occu-
pations being made outside of the provisions of
international law, publicists can scarcely think of
laying down rules for them. MAURICE BLOCK.
00EANICA. Under this head, although con-
trary to the custom of geographers, we propose to
treat of both Oceanica and Australia. — I. OCE-
ANICA. By the name Oceanica are designated all
the islands scattered in the Pacific Ocean, from
the coasts of Asia and the Indian ocean to the
coasts of America. The most northerly of the
islands belonging to Oceanica is the rock of
Crespa, latitude 32° 46' north; the most southerly
are the islands of Bishop and his Clerk, latitude
55° 15' South; the most westerly point is the
island of Boh, longitude 129°12' east; while the
rock of Sala y Gomez, longitude 254° 40' east
of Greenwich, forms the eastern boundary. The
islands are divided into high and low. The for-
mer are, in almost every case, of volcanic origin
and mountainous; they are the largest and most
important in all the groups, and have a fertile
Soil; the low islands, on the contrary, are mostly
but ring like rocks of coral rag, encircling a body
of water. The waves of the ocean often carry
seeds from great distances to these barren coral
reefs and deposit them there. These seeds de-
velop into graminous plants or trees; aquatic birds
visit the yet destitute strip of land, and shortly
afterward there appear insects and amphibia, car.
ried thither by the waves on living trees. – The
area of Oceanica, by far the greater part of which
is situated between the tropics, may, according to
an approximate estimate, the only one possible, be
1,156,000 square kilometres. All the islands and
groups of islands of Oceanica may be divided into
three great principal divisions, based upon differ-
ences in the physical conformation, and in the
institutions and manners as well as in the lan-
guages of the natives. Melanesia (or West Poly-
nesia) comprises the islands, extending from west
to east, thence southeast, which encircle the
Australian continent like a wreath. To these
islands belong the extensive island of New Guinea
with the neighboring groups, the Luisiad archi-
pelago, the archipelago of New Britain and the
Admiralty islands, the Salomon islands, the Queen
Charlotte islands, the New Hebrides, New Cale-
donia and the Loyalty islands. The islands of
Melanesia are inhabited by the Papuas, a dark
skinned people, who are also called Negritos or
Australian negroes, on account of there being some
similarity between them and the natives of Afri-
ca. To Polynesia belong the following islands
and groups of islands: New Zealand, the Fiji
islands, Tonga, Samoa, the Hervey islands, the
Society group of islands, the Australian islands,
the Tuamotu, the Marquesas, and the Sandwich
or Hawaiian islands. In New Zealand the Euro-
pean population prevails at present. The Fiji
islands are accounted as belonging to Polynesia,
because the inhabitants of these islands, although
Melanesians as far as their language and physical
conformation are concerned, possess the same
degree of civilization as the Polynesians. The
islands of Polynesia are inhabited by a light
brown, well formed race of men, accessible to civ-
ilization, good seamen, and somewhat resembling
the Malays. By the term Micronesia is desig-
nated the group of islands situated in the north-
western part of the Pacific Ocean, and extending
north and west near the coasts of Japan and the
Philippine islands; this group of islands is inhab-
ited by that part of the Polynesian race which
differs from the Polynesians proper in peculiari-
ties of character, mode of living, and chiefly by
the difference in languages. These (mostly low)
islands are divided into three groups: the La-
drones, the Bonin islands north of them, and the
Caroline islands, the Marshall and the Gilbert
islands. – Throughout nearly the whole of Mela-
nesia oppressive heat prevails, which, combined
Y.
12
OCEANICA,
with the humidity of the densely wooded islands,
is as prostrating as it is injurious to health; the
climate of the other islands is warm, but not
disagreeable, because of the sea breezes, and is as
agreeable as it is healthy. While on the low
islands vegetation can not be called rich and lux-
uriant, on the high islands it is of a tropical abun-
dance. The mountains are for the most part
wooded to the top; the trees are high, and service-
able for building. Among the food plants the
following are to be found on all the larger islands:
the cocoanut tree, the banana tree, different kinds
of taro or arum, the bread-fruit tree, the pandang,
yam-root, and the sweet potato; besides these,
there are the sugar cane, the pineapple, the coffee
tree, the lemon and orange trees; in short, nearly
all the useful plants of warmer climates. While
New Guinea vies with the Moluccas in the abun-
dance and peculiar character of its plants and the
magnificence and grandeur of its forests, its vege-
tation, without losing its luxuriance, shows a
decline in so far as the number of varieties is
concerned; thus, Tahiti seems to have but 500
different plants, Tuamotu only about fifty, Waihu
(Easter island) some twenty only. It is equally
striking that not only the vegetation on all of
these islands is of a character similar, for the most
part, to that of the vegetation of India, but also that
it retains this character even in the most easterly
islands, which, although nearest to America, pos-
sess none of the American types of plants. The
same law applies, on the whole, to the distribu-
tion of animals; however, there is a general lack
of land mammalia on these islands in So far as
that lack has not been done away with in more
recent times, by the importation of domestic ani-
mals. It is true, there are larger quadrupeds in
New Guinea, but only kangaroos and nocturnal
animals. Besides these, the Europeans, who first
visited these islands, found of land mammalia
only the hog, the dog and the rat, and even these
not on all the islands. Birds are more numerous.
Fowl, pigeons, parrots, different kinds of singing
birds, snipes, herons, wild ducks and numerous
sea fowl were found on almost all these islands.
Besides these, there are the bird of paradise in
New Guinea and the cassowary, distributed as
far as New Britain. Sea animals, fish and turtles
are exceedingly numerous in the waters surround-
ing these islands; the dugong (Halicore cetacea) is
found between the tropics. Whales are still
caught in the southern and nörthern parts of the
ocean, and the widely distributed sperm whale
(Physeter macrocephalus) has given rise to active
fisheries. Shells and corals present a greater
variety of brilliant colors and forms than almost
anywhere else in the world. Snakes, mostly of a
harmless character, are found only on the western
islands, probably not farther than on the Tonga
group; there is, however, one harmless species of
snake which is said to be found on the Marquesas;
the crocodile is not found except in the extremest
western part of this territory. Sharks are fre-
quent everywhere, and there are also poisonous
Polynesian languages.
fish. But few species of insects are found; most
frequently they are met within the western islands.
— Comparative philology has shown that the
native population of Oceanica came from Indo-
China and from the Indian archipelago. On all
the larger islands of the Indian archipelago there
is a dark colored race of men, called Papuas, and
another of lighter color, the Malay race, which
originally inhabited the Southeastern parts of Asia,
and which in the distant past removed their habi-
tations to the Indian archipelago; these two races
are also to be found in Oceanica. The dark
colored Papuas are the natives of Melanesia,
while the lighter brown Malayo-Japanese element
prevails in Polynesia; the now nearly extinct
Micronesians are more similar to the Tagalian
element. — As a rule the inhabitants of the high
islands are stronger, taller, handsomer, of lighter
color, and better developed; on the low and more
barren islands they are shorter, less strong, uglier,
and of a darker color. The color of the skin of
the Polynesians varies from light to dark brown,
with a hue of yellow or olive-green; their hair is
mostly of thick growth, black and smooth; their
eyes are black; their mouths are well formed;
their foreheads well developed; the nose is either
Short and straight, or long and of aquiline shape;
the form of the face is oval. The Micronesians
are of lighter color, their figure is more graceful
and agile, their expression brighter, their noses
more prominent and bent, and not so flat. The
difference in their languages is still more pro-
nounced. While the language of the Melanesians
is distinguished by more numerous and harsher
consonants, and is clearly distinct from the Malay
and Polynesian languages, the phonetic system
of the Polynesian languages evinces great pov-
erty, a certain weakness and want of force; the
Micronesian languages, however, as far as their
form is concerned, are the most closely connect-
ed with the simpler Malay family of languages,
having also an intimate relationship with the
While the several lan-
guages of the Polynesian family are almost only
dialectically distinguished from each other, there
are great differences in the languages spoken on
the Micronesian groups. As far as mental capac-
ity is concerned, the Melanesians are inferior to
the Polynesians; love of war and warlikeness,
distrust and suspicion, are the principal features
of their character; cannibalism, too, is practiced
by most of the Melanesian tribes. . The Poly-
nesians, on the contrary, although as a rule they
also practice cannibalism in as far as they have
not been converted to Christianity, occupy a
higher intellectual position than others living in a
state of nature; they are eminently skillful in
copying, or at least in assuming, the outward
appearance of European manners. The Micro-
nesians also are well endowed intellectually, very
receptive, and possess a certain physical clever-
ness; they are hospitable, friendly, good natured,
peaceful and honest, but sometimes very revenge-
ful and blood-thirsty. — The religious ideas of the
OCEANICA.
13
Melanesians are vague and confused. Thus, on
some of the islands they believe in a power which
has created and governs all things. Others wor-
ship the sun, while the Tanneese and the New
Caledonians seem to have no religion whatever.
Besides this, every individual has his own guard-
ian spirit. The Polynesians believe in a number
of high gods, by whom the universe has been
created, and who, although with some diversity,
are worshiped throughout all Oceanica. Besides
these high gods the Polynesians worship an im-
mense host of inferior deities, of elementary genii,
fairies and giants. There is, besides, a third class
of deities, consisting of apotheoses of human
beings. The Tabu, too, forms part of the religious
ideas of the Polynesians. In Micronesia religion is
based on the belief in an invisible supreme being,
and, in addition thereto, sometimes on the belief
in invisible intermediary beings. – In regard to
social relations Melanesia is also very backward.
The population of each island is divided into
many tribes, which, as a rule, are enemies of one
another. The tribes have each a chief, for the
most part, however, without authority; and they
are classed by villages into numerous small sub-
divisions, with a common ruler on important
occasions. In Polynesia, however, there are two
estates to be distinguished: the nobles, who are
related to the gods, and the common people, who
are of this earth only and without soul. Between
these two estates, that of the landed proprietors,
in many instances, has assumed the intermediate
position of a third estate; thus in some places, for
instance in Tahiti, the high nobility merely con-
sists of the king, the king's family, and their
nearest relatives. They also have generally a
kind of feudal system, in which one king or
superior chief rules over several subordinate
chiefs, who derive their landed property from
him, and who in turn Owe him service in case of
war. A similar feudal system is in existence in
Micronesia, but there the estates are divided into
the nobility, the semi-nobility and the common
people. Even as far as industry and skill are
concerned, the Melanesians rank below the Poly-
nesians. They pursue fishing and to a limited
extent agriculture. Some of the groups of islands
have no connection whatever with Europe. Only
in the New Hebrides and the Loyalty islands did
the sandalwood commodity give rise to an active
traffic, since European vessels transported the
wood from these islands to Asia. For centuries,
however, an active trade has been carried on
between the inhabitants of the western and north-
western coasts of New Guinea and those of the
Moluccas. New Caledonia, it is true, has been
brought into connection with Europe in conse-
quence of its occupation by the French; but that
intercourse is inconsiderable. In Polynesia agri-
culture is highly developed. In building houses
and boats, as well as in manufacturing bast-cloth
(which is frequentºy very beautiful), weapons and
tools, the Polynesians display great skill. The
trade in Sandalwood, pearls, cocoa oil, and the
Catching of trepangs and whales, ever since the
end of the eighteenth century, attracted many
European ships to these waters and gave rise
to an active intercourse with the inhabitants of
these islands. – In Micronesia, too, agriculture
thrives, as far as the condition of the soil is
favorable. With their skillfully constructed boats
the natives make extensive voyages for trading
purposes; they export the products which they
manufacture in large quantities, as, for instance,
boats, pandang mats, ropes and twine of cocoanut
fibre, weapons of cocoawood, implements made
of the wood of the bread-fruit tree, cloth, baskets,
Sails, and, above all, hammocks, which are very
much in demand. Ever since the white element
established itself on the islands a marked decrease
of the native population has been noticeable. On
the Hawaiian group and in Melanesia the popula-
tion has decreased to about one-fifth since the days
of Cook. In Micronesia, too, the contact with
white men, chiefly in consequence of destructive
diseases, such as Small-pox and syphilis, having
been brought into the country, has had the same
effect. —II. AUSTRALIA. In former times and
in a wider sense, under the name of Australia
was comprised the extensive group of islands in the
Pacific Ocean scattered between the coasts of Asia
and the Indian ocean, and the coast of America.
In a narrower sense the name Australia is used to-
day to designate the insular continent, the Aus-
tralian continent (formerly called New Holland),
while the other islands and groups of islands be-
longing thereto are known by the collective name
Oceanica. The Australian continent, in the south-
eastern part of the Indian archipelago, is situated
entirely on the eastern hemisphere. — The popu-
lation of Australia consists of natives and of Eu-
ropeans recently settled there. The farther the
Europeans penetrate from the coasts into the inte-
rior and cultivate its soil, the more are the natives
confined to the deserts and the nearer they approach
extinction. In the settled portions of Australia
they gradually disappear before European civili-
Zation, as do also in part the native flora and
fauna. At the time of the first arrival of Euro-
peans, there may have been about 50,000 Austra-
lians wandering about in the now colonized por-
tions of New South Wales, Victoria and South
Australia. In the year 1851 the number of na-
tives was estimated at 1,750 in New South Wales,
at 2,500 in Victoria and at 3,780 in South Austra-
lia; in 1872 there were still 3,369 natives in South
Australia; in Victoria, there were but 1,330 native
Australian aborigines left, while the number of
aborigines in New South Wales had dwindled
down to 984. The total number of natives for
the whole continent can not be given with cer-
tainty. The latest estimates showed that their
number does not amount to more than 60,000.
The native population of Tasmania is now en-
tirely extinct. Including Tasmania and New Zea-
land, which are officially considered part of the
Australian colonies, there are at present seven
Australian colonies, irrespective of the Northern
14
OCEANICA.
territory under the administration of South Aus-
tralia and peopled by but few white men. The
area and population of each of the colonies is
shown in the following table:
* Inhabitants
English e
COLONIES. sºi. .#;.
New South Wales---------------. 308,560 #560,275
Victoria -------------------------- 88,451 #790,492
South Australia------------------- 380,602 $198 257
Queensland----------------------- 668,259 $146,690
West Australia ------------------- 975,824 +25,781
Northern Territory---------------- 523,531 +201
Total ------------------------- 2,945,227 1,721,696
To this there are to be added:
Tasmania------------------------- 26,215 *104,217
New Zealand--------------------- 106,259 *310,437
Grand total.------------------- 3,077,701 2,136,350
::: End of 1S73. + End of 1871.
Thus Australia had, in 1873, an area of 2,945,227
English square miles, and 1,721,696 inhabitants,
exclusive of the natives (only 0.57 inhabitants to
the square mile). The larger cities are, in Victoria:
Melbourne, with 193,698 inhabitants; Ballarat, with
with 24,260; Sandhurst, with 27,642; Geelong, with
22,618; in New South Wales: Sydney, with 134,756
inhabitants; in South Australia: Adelaide, with
27,208 inhabitants; and in Queensland: Brisbane,
with a population of 19,413. How rapidly the
population of these colonies increased by immigra-
tion is apparent from the fact, that in 1821 the pop-
ulation of New South Wales was only 29,783; that
of Victoria, in 1836, only 224; that of South Aus-
ralia, in 1838, only 6,000; that of Queensland, in
1848, only 2,257; and that of West Australia, only
11,743. — The principal occupation of the colonists
is the raising of cattle and the cultivation of the
soil. The chief branch of stock raising at present
is the raising of sheep, which, within a short time,
will secure to England the entire foreign demand
for wool. In the interior of the colonies the lands
are divided into farms; in the frontier districts,
however, the colonists live on so-called stations,
which are isolated encampments of shepherds.
Besides this, the produce of gold, copper and hard
coal is of great importance; the fisheries, espe-
eially whaling, are worthy of mention. Australia
exports chiefly gold, wool, tallow and copper, and
imports English manufactures of every descrip-
tion, although, especially lately, the industry of
the colonies has largely developed. —Each colony
has its own governor, assisted by an executive
ministry and a legislative body. One-third of the
representatives in the parliaments are chosen by
the government, and two-thirds are elected by the
inhabitants; parliament has a right to enact laws,
in so far as they are not at variance with the laws
of England, and it is authorized to dispose of the
receipts of the colony, in so far as they are not
derived from crown lands. All bills passed by
parliament must be ratified by the governor on
behalf of the English government. All lands
belong to the government by law, and are sold to
the highest bidder at public auction. Besides
this, unsold crown lands are leased for an insig-
nificant consideration for the raising of cattle.
The English government has of late kept no
troops in the colonies; the latter, therefore, or-
ganized volunteer corps, of a total strength of
something over 10,000 men. For the protection
of the coasts a fleet of iron-clads is being built
at the expense of the colonies. At present the
fleet is represented by the steam advice boat
‘‘Victoria, ’’ and the monitor ‘‘ Cerberus.” The
wooden steam frigate “Nelson,” in the harbor of
Melbourne, is used as a training ship for young
seamen for the merchant and naval marine. —
The discovery of gold in 1851 gave a most power-
ful impulse to the immense growth of the Aus-
tralian colonies. Victoria's production of gold
reached 11,900,000 pounds sterling in 1856; in
1866, it is true, it decreased to 5,900,000 pounds,
but in 1868 it rose again to 6,600,000 pounds.
From 1866 to 1873, inclusive, the production of
gold in the colony of Victoria alone amounted to
11,024,231 ozs.(Q 334, an aggregate of £44,096,924).
Besides gold, wool is a staple product of Aus-
tralia. In 1810 the first consignment of wool, of
about half a bale (140 lbs.) arrived in Europe;
in the year 1820, 100,000 lbs. were sent to Europe;
in 1867, 113,000,000 lbs.; in 1868, 135,000,000
lbs. (of this quantity 68,000,000 pounds came
from Victoria, 30,000,000 from Queensland, and
29,000,000 from New Zealand). In the year 1871
the four Australian colonies (excluding West
Australia) exported wool to the amount of
£11,974,000. — Cattle breeding is also very im-
portant. The Australian colonies have at least
6,000,000 head of cattle; and since 1867 consider-
able quantities of preserved meats are exported
to England and Bremen. About 1,025,000 kilo-
grammes, for instance, were exported in August,
1872. Lastly, South Australia exports considera-
ble quantities of wheat and copper. In 1872 the
last named colony exported about 25,000,000 kilo-
grammes of copper ore. — At the end of 1873
the length of railroads in the Australian colonies
was 2,042 kilometres. Of these, New South
Wales had 652 kilometres, Victoria. 708, Queens-
land 351, South Australia 305, and West Australia
26 kilometres. Since Oct. 21, 1872, Australia is
connected with Europe by cable. The colony of
South Australia established a line of telegraph
from Port Augusta, on the gulf of Spencer,
through the heart of the continent to Port Dar-
win, on the coast of northern Australia, while
the English government laid a cable from Java
to Port Darwin. The distance between Adelaide
and Falmouth is 20,000 kilometres; of this dis-
tance the submarine cables represent a length of
14,700 kilometres. A dispatch of ten words from


OCEANICA.
15
Adelaide to London now costs 189 marks, and it
takes, in the average, fourteen hours for a dispatch
to make its way from Adelaide to London. The
principal towns in the colonies are connected with
each other by telegraph. The colonies of New
South Wales, Victoria, South Australia and
Queensland alone had over 24,000 kilometres of
telegraph lines at the end of 1872. Since January,
1874, Australia has three different postal connec-
tions with Europe: the older line, via Point de
Galle and Suez, in the hands of the colonies of
Victoria, South Australia, West Australia and Tas-
mania; the second, via San Francisco and New
York, in the hands of the colonies of New South
Wales and New Zealand; the third, via Torres
Strait, Singapore and Suez, in the hands of the
colony of Queensland. — At the end of 1872 the
receipts and expenditures of the several colo-
nies were as follows:
Total Total
COLONIES. Rººts. Expéâtures Debts.
New South Wales -- £4,161,415 £3,638,623 £9,681,130
Victoria ------------ 3,261,883 3,428,382 11,994,800
South Australia.----- 862,885 856,865 2,284,200
"Queensland -------- 996,323 865,743 4,547,850
West Australia ----- 105,301 98,248 35,000
Total ----------- £9,387,807 £8,887,861 #28,542,980
The loans were made principally for the purpose
of building railroads, harbors, etc. — The follow-
ing summary tables show the area of the various
colonies, and their population from 1876 to 1881
inclusive: -
AREA AND POPULATION.
COLONIES. Area. Sq. Miles.| Years º
1876 629,776
1877 662,212
New South Wales - - ---- 309,175 1878 693,743
1879 734,882
1881 781,265
1876 399,075
| | 1877 4.17,622
New Zealand ---------- 104,403 1878 432,519
1879 463,729
1881 534,032
1876 187,100
| 1877 203,084
Queensland.------------ 668,224 1878 210,510
1879 217,851
1881 226,968
| 1876 225,677
1877 236,864
South Australia.-------- 903,690 3 | 1878 248,795
# i 1879 259,287
1881 286,324
1876 105,484
e 1877 107,104
Tasmania-------------- 26,215 1878 109,947
| | 1874 112,469
1881 118,923
1876 840,300
• * 1877 860,787
Victoria --------------- 87,884 1878 879,442
| | 1879 899,333
1881 882,232
1876 27,321
- 1877 27,838
Western Australia- - - - - 1,057,250 1878 28,166
| | 1879 28,668
U | 1881 32,359
FINANCES.

wrº Expendi- Debt;
COLONIES. Years. Revenue. ture. On Dec. 31.
4.
4.
5,748,245
4,983,864
4,475,059
1880 || 4,904,216
7,377,786
ſ
i
:
i
;

11,724,419
11,688,119
14,937,419
14,903,919
16,924,019
20,691,111
22,608,311
23,958,311
28,583,231
29,659,111
7,685,350
Now South Wales-
New Zealand------
Queensland -------
South Australia ---
Tasmania ---------
|
}
Victoria----------- |
|
|
U
17,022,065
20,050,753
22,060,749
22,426,502.
161,000
184,556
361,000
361,000
510,000
B.3%
* GOVERNMENT OF THE COLONIES. — New South Wales.
The constitution of New South Wales, the oldest of the
Australasian colonies, is embodied in the act 18 and 19 Vict.,
cap. 54, proclaimed in 1855, which established a “responsi-
ble government.” The constitution vests the legislative
power in a parliament of two houses, the first called the
legislative council, and the second the legislative assembly.
The legislative council consists of not less than twenty-one
members, nominated by the crown, and the assembly of 108
members, elected by seventy-two constituencies. To be
eligible, a man must be of age, a natural-born subject of the
queen, or, if an alien, he must have been naturalized for
five years, and resident for two years before election. There
is no property qualification for electors, and the votes are
taken by secret ballot. The executive power is in the hands
of a governor nominated by the crown. The governor, by the
terms of his commission, is commander-in-chief of all troops
in the colony. In the exercise of his authority he is assisted
by a cabinet of eight ministers. The cabinet is responsible
for its acts to the legislative assembly. — Wew Zealand. The
present form of government for New Zealand was estab-
lished by statute 15 and 16 Vict., cap. 72, passed in 1852.
By this act the colony was divided into six provinces, after-
ward increased to nine, namely: Auckland, Taranaki, Wel-
lington, Nelson, Canterbury, Otago, Hawke's Bay, Westland
and Marlborough, each governed by a superintendent and
provincial council, elected by the inhabitants according to a
franchise which practically amounts to household suffrage.
By a subsequent act of the colonial legislature, 39 Vict.,
No. xxi., which was passed in 1875, the provincial system of
government was abolished. By the terms of this act and of
other amending statutes the legislative power is vested in
the governor and a “general assembly,” consisting of two
chambers, the first called the legislative council, and the
second the house of representatives. The legislative council
consists of forty-five members, nominated by the crown for
life, and the house of representatives of ninety-five mem-
bers, elected by the people for three years. The members
of the house of representatives include four aborigines, or
Maories, elected by the natives. Every owner of a freehold
worth £50, or tenant householder, in the country at £5, in
the towns at £10 a year rent, is qualified both to vote for,
and to be a member of, the house of representatives. The
16
OCHLOCRACY.
OCHLOORACY. The rule of the multitude.
Polybius was the first to use the term. The
good governments, according to him, are royalty,
aristocracy and democracy; the bad ones mon-
archy, oligarchy and ochlocracy. Barthélemy
St. Hilaire does not consider this definition to be
executive authority is vested in a governor appointed by the
crown. The governor is, by virtue of his office, commander-
in-chief of the troops. The general administration rests with
a responsible ministry, consisting of about seven members.
Besides the ministers, there is one native member of the
executive council, but not in charge of any department.
The control of native affairs, and the entire responsibility of
dealing with questions of native government, were trans-
ferred in 1863 from the imperial to the colonial government.
In 1864 the seat of the general government was removed from
Auckland to Wellington, on account of the central position
of the latter city. — Queensland. The form of government
of the colony of Queensland was established Dec. 10, 1859,
on its separation from New South Wales. The power of
making laws and imposing taxes is vested in a parliament
of two houses, the legislative council and the legislative
assembly. The former consists of thirty members, nomi-
nated by the crown for life. The legislative assembly com-
prises fifty-five deputies, returned from as many electoral
districts, for five years, by the ballot vote of all tax payers.
Persons having property, either leasehold or freehold, or a
license to depasture lands from the government in any
electoral district in which they do not reside, have the right
of a vote in any district in which such property may be situ-
ated, as well as in the district in which they reside. The
executive power is vested in a governor appointed by the
crown. The governor is commander-in-chief of the troops,
and also bears the title of vice-admiral. In the exercise of
the executive authority he is assisted by an executive coun-
cil of six ministers. The ministers are jointly and individ-
ually responsible for their acts. – South Australia. The
constitution of South Australia bears date Oct. 27, 1856.
It vests the legislative power in a parliament elected by
the people. The parliament consists of a legislative council
and a house of assembly. The former (according to a law
which came into force in 1881) is composed of twenty-four
members. Every three years the eight members whose
names are first on the roll retire, and their places are sup-
plied by two new members elected from each of the four
districts into which the colony is divided for this purpose.
The executive has no power to dissolve this body. It is
elected by the whole colony voting as one district. The
qualifications of an elector to the legislative council are, that
he must be twenty-one years of age, a natural-born or natu-
ralized subject of the queen, and have been on the electoral
roll six months, besides having a freehold of £50 value, or a
leasehold of £20 annual value, or occupying a dwelling house
of £25 annual value. The qualification for a member of
council is merely that he must be thirty years of age, a
natural-born or naturalized subject, and a resident in the
province for three years. The president of the council is
elected by the members. The house of assembly consists of
forty-six members, elected for three years. The qualifica-
tions for an elector are that of having been on the electoral
roll for six months, and of having arrived at twenty-one
years of age; and the qualifications for members are the
same. There were 57,627 registered electors in 1882. Judges
and ministers of religion are ineligible for election as mem-
bers. The elections of members of both houses take place
by ballot, The executive power is vested in a governor
appointed by the crown and an executive council, consisting
of the responsible ministers, and specially appointed mem-
bers. The governor is at the same time commander-in-chief
of the troops. The ministry, of which he is the president, is
divided into six departments. The ministers are jointly
and individually responsible to the legislature for all their
Official acts. – Tasmania. The constitution of Tasmania
was established by act 18 Vict., No. 17, supplemented by
act 34 Vict., No. 42, passed in 1871. By these acts a legisla-
tive council and a house of assembly are constituted, called
the parliament of Tasmania. The legislative council is
composed of sixteen members, elected by all natural-born
very exact. It is not correct so far as royalty is
concerned, which is only one of the forms of
monarchy; but the denomination ochlocracy is
perfectly correct, much more correct than the
word demagogy, which only indicates a means
of popular government, and not that government
or naturalized subjects of the crown who possess either a
freehold worth £30 a year, or a leasehold of £200, or have a
commission in the army or navy, or a degree of some uni-
versity, or are in holy orders. The house of assembly con-
sists of thirty-two members, elected by householders of £7
per annum, or freeholders of property £50 in value, and all
subjects holding a commission, or possessing a degree. The
legislative authority rests in both houses, while the executive
is vested in a governor appointed by the crown. The gov-
ernor is, by virtue of his office, commander-in-chief of the
troops in the colony. He is aided in the exercise of the
executive authority by a cabinet of responsible ministers,
consisting of five members. The ministers must have a
seat in one of the two houses. – Victoria. The constitution
of Victoria was established by an act, passed by the legisla-
ture of the colony in 1854, to which the assent of the crown
was given, in pursuance of the power granted by the act of
the imperial parliament of 18 & 19 Vict., cap. 55. The legis-
lative authority is vested in a parliament of two chambers;
the legislative council, composed of forty-two members, and
the legislative assembly, composed of eighty-six members.
A property qualification is required both for members and
electors of the legislative council. According to a bill
passed in 1881 members must be in the possession of an
estate of the annual value of £500, and electors must be in
the possession or occupancy of property of the ratable
value of £10 per annum if derived from freehold, or of £25
if derived from leasehold or the occupation of rented
property. No electoral property qualification is required
for graduates of British universities, matriculated students
of the Melbourne university, ministers of religion of all
denominations, certificated schoolmasters, lawyers, medical
practitioners, and officers of the army and navy. One-third
of the legislative council must retire every three years, SO
that a total change is effected in nine years. The first elec-
tion of new members took place November, 1882. The
members of the legislative assembly are elected by universal
suffrage, for the term of three years. Clergymen of any
religious denomination, and persons convicted of felony,
are excluded from both the legislative council and the assem-
bly. The number of electors on the roll of the legislative
council was increased by the action of the bill of 1881 from
33,105 to about 110,000; the number of electors for the legis-
lative assembly was 176,022, according to the latest returns.
The executive authority is vested in a governor appointed by
the crown. The governor is commander-in-chief of all the
colonial troops. In the exercise of his duties as the execu-
tive he is assisted by a cabinet of nine ministers. At least
four out of the nine ministers must be members of either
the legislative council or the assembly. —Western Australia.
The administration of Western Australia is vested in a gov-
ernor, who exercises the executive functions. There is
besides a legislative council, composed of Seven appointed
and fourteen elected members, the latter returned by the
votes of all male inhabitants, of full age, assessed in a
rental of at least £10. The qualification for elected mem-
bers is the possession of landed property of £1,000. The
governor is assisted in his functions by an executive coun-
cil. — PopULATION, RE sources, ETC., OF THE COLONIES. --
New South Wales. The excess of immigration over emi-
gration averaged 10,000 annually in the seven years 1874–80.
There is a high birth rate in the colony. The excess of
births over deaths amounted to 116,931 in the year 1880.
The population of Sydney, the capital of New South Wales,
numbered 220,427 at the census of April 3, 1881, the total
comprising 99,670 inhabitants within the city, and 120,737 in
the suburbs. The increase of population in the decennial
period 1871–81 was 89,272, or 66% per cent. The trade of
New South Wales more than quadrupled in the fifteen
years 1850–64. The total value of the imports in 1850
amounted to £2,078,338, and in 1864 had risen to £10,135,708.
The exports in 1850 were valued at £2,399,580, and in 1864
OCHLOCRACY.
17
itself. Aristotle calls democracy what Polybius
calls ochlocracy. “Aristotle,” says Barthélemy
St. Hilaire, “always uses the word demos to des-
ignate the most numerous part of the political
body. Whenever the word people is found in
Aristotle, it must be underSTOOd to mean, not the
at £9,037,832. From 1864 to 1870 there was a decline in
both imports and exports, but a new rise took place in
1871, continuing with interruptions till 1881. The value
of the total imports in 1881 was £17,409,326; the value of
the total exports, including bullion, was £16,049,503. Rather
more than one-third of the total imports of New South Wales
come from Great Britain, and about one-third of the exports
are shipped to it. The staple article of export from New
South Wales to the United Kingdom is wool. Of this article
there were exported in the year 1881, 87,739,914 lbs., of a
value of £5,304,576. Next to wool, the most important
articles of export are tin, copper, tallow and preserved meat.
In March, 1882, New South Wales had 33,062,854 sheep;
2,180,896 horned cattle; 346,931 horses; and 213,916 pigs. The
total area of land under cultivation embraced 645,068 acres,
of which about one-half was under wheat and maize. New
South Wales is believed to be richer in coal than the Other
territories of Australasia. In 1881 there were mined 1,775,224
tons of coal, valued at £603,248. The gold mines of New
South Wales cover a vast area, extending over three dis-
tricts, called the Western Fields, the Southern Fields, and
the Northern Fields. The gold produce of the colony was
estimated as follows, in each of the seven years 1875–81:
TYEARS. Quantity. Value.
Oz. 4.
1875--------------------------- 552,592 2,097,740
1876--------------------------- 410,330 1,589,854
1877--------------------------- 124,113 496,452
1878--------------------------- 182,120 768,480
1879--------------------------- 109,650 399,187
1880--------------------------- 118,600 441,543
1881--------------------------- 145,532 550,111
TNew South Wales likewise possesses valuable copper and
tim mines, the former producing 27.587 tons of copper in
1881. New South Wales has three lines of railway, the
Southern, the Northern and the Western. In 1881 there were
99.5% miles of railway open for traffic and 11% miles of
tramways, and 487 miles under construction. The whole of
the lines were built by the government. Of electric tele-
graphs there were in the colony 14,278 miles of line in 1881,
constructed at a cost of £492,211. The paid messages trans-
mitted in 1881 numbered 1,597,741. There were 318 telegraph
stations at the end of 1881. The postoffice of the colony
transmitted 26,355,600 letters, 16,527,900 newspapers, and
851,300 packets, in the year 1881. — New Zealand. The cen-
sus of April 3, 1881, gave the total population of 534,032,
including 44,099 Maories (24,370 males and 19,729 females);
of the rest, 269,605 were males and 220,328 females. This
includes 5,004 Chinese, of whom only nine were females. In
1880 there were 19,341 births, 5,437 deaths and 3,181 mar-
riages in the colony. At the census of 1881 there were four
towns with upward of 10,000 inhabitants in New Zealand.
The total number of immigrants and of emigrants, and the
Surplus of immigrants over emigrants, was as follows:
YEAR Immigrants. Emigrants. #.
1871 ------------- 10,083 5,297 4,786
1873------------- 10,725 5,752 4,973
1873 ------------- 13,572 4,761 8,811
1874------------- 43,965 5,859 38,106
1875 ------------- 31,737 6,467 25,270
1876 ------------- 18,414 6,459 11,955
1877 ------------- 12,987 6,611 6,376
1878------------- 16,263 5,766 10,497
1879------------- 23,597 5,234 18,723
1880------------- 15,154 7,923 7,231
1881 ------------- 9,688 8,033 1,655
121
VOL. III. — 2
totality or majority of the nation, which would
include the slaves, but only the lowest class of the
political body, that which prevailed at Athens,
but which, in the greater part of the Greek repub-
lics, played only a secondary rôle.” It seems to
us that demos, in the political language of the
The commerce of New Zealand increased nearly twenty-fold
in the twenty years from 1859 to 1878; but while the imports,
which at One time amounted to more than eight millions,
fell again, the exports increased slightly in recent years.
The value of the total imports of New Zealand in 1881 was
37,457,045; of the exports, £6,060,866. The value of the
imports from Great Britain in 1881 was £3,718,308; that of the
exports to Great Britain, £5,125,859. The staple article of
export from New Zealand to the United Kingdom is wool.
In 1881 there were exported to Great Britain 59,368,832 lbs.
of wool, of an aggregate value of £3,477,993. Next to wool
the most important articles of export were corn, flour, gum
and preserved meat. The live stock of the colony consisted,
in April, 1881, of 161,736 horses, 698,637 cattle, 12,985,085
sheep, 200,083 pigs, and 1,563,216 head of poultry. The
greatest increase of live stock in recent years was in sheep.
Their number increased from 1,523,324 in 1858, to 7,761,383 in
1861, to 4,937,273 in 1864, to 8,418,579 in 1867, to 9,700,629 in
1871, and to 11,704,853 in 1874. Large gold fields were dis-
covered in the spring of 1857. The gold exports amounted
to 355,322 ounces, valued at £1,407,770 in 1857; in 1881 only
250,683 ounces, valued at £996,867. In 1882 there were
1,333 miles of railway open for traffic. The total expendi-
tures on construction of all the lines to March 31, 1881, had
amounted to £9,599,355, and in 1882 to £9,869,669. On
March 31, 1882, the colony had 3,824 miles of telegraph lines,
and 9,653 miles of wire. The number of telegrams dis-
patched was 1,438,772, of which total over a million were
private messages. The total receipts from telegrams
amounted to £78,116. The total number of telegraph
offices in the colony was 234. The postoffice in the year
1881 received 25,557,931 letters, of which number two-thirds
came from places within and one-third from places without
the colony. The total number of newspapers received in
1881 was 12,248,043, of which number over two-thirds came
from places within and less than one-third from places
without the colony. The total revenue of the postoffice
amounted to £154,142 in 1881. — Queensland. Queensland
is divided into twenty municipalities, the largest of which,


as regards population, is Brisbane. It contains the city of
Brisbane, the capital of the colony, and the seat of govern-
ment, with a population of 31,109 on April 3, 1881. The
number of immigrants in 1881 was 16,223; that of the emi-
grants, 9,209. The total value of imports in 1881 was
£3,601,906, and of exports, £3,289,253. Wool, preserved
meat and tallow are the chief articles of export. In Decem-
ber, 1882, there were 28,026 acres under sugar cane, out of a
total of 128,875 acres under cultivation. The live stock at
the end of 1881 numbered 194,217 horses, 3,618,513 cattle,
8,292,883 sheep and 56,438 pigs. There are several coal mines
in the colony, the produce of which amounted to 65,612 tons
in 1881. Gold fields were discovered in 1867, the produce of
which amounted to 373,266 ounces, valued at £1,306,431 in
the year 1877; in 1881 it was only 259,782 ounces, valued at
£925,012. At the end of 1881 there were 800 miles of railway
open for traffic in the colony, and 200 miles more in course
of construction; while in 1882 a trans-Australian line from
Brisbane to Port Darwin had been begun. The postoffice of
the colony in the year 1881 carried 5,178,547 letters, 4,530,263
newspapers, and 409,575 packets. At the end of 1881 there
were in the colony 6,279 miles of telegraph lines, and 8,585
miles of wire, with 170 stations. The number of messages
sent was 597,333 in the year 1881. — South Australia. On
April 3, 1881, the population of South Australia numbered
279,865 (149,530 males and 130,335 females). Of these 75,812
were members of the church of England, 42,628 Roman
Catholics, and 42,103 Wesleyan Methodists. During 1881
there were registered 10,708 births, 4,012 deaths and 2,308
marriages. The population of Adelaide, the capital of the
colony, was, in 1881, 38,479, exclusive of the suburbs. The
number of acres under cultivation doubled in the ten years
1866–76. There were 2,613,903 acres under cultivation in
18
OCHLOCRACY.
Greeks, does not signify the lowest class of the
people, nor even the mass of the inhabitants,
including the slaves: demos (populus and not plebs)
meant what is known in France as the com/mº/ne,
Or, what amounted to the same among the Greeks,
the nation. — Ochlocracy is the rule of the poorest
'right to sit in the comitia by tribes 2
and least enlightened part of the nation, which is
ordinarily the most numerous. But, although
superior in numbers, as it can not represent the
general will, it is at bottom only a government of
the minority. The despotism of the greater num-
ber, like the despotism of a single individual, is
established rather by usurpation than by consent.
Who would freely conclude such contract 2 It is
needless to say that these two forms of govern-
ment are as often turned to individual advantage
by officials (demagogues and viziers) as they are
exercised by those whose power they proclaim. —
Ochlocracy is almost never provided for in con-
stitutions. Was it an ochlocracy which the gov-
ernment established at Rome, when the lea, horten-
sia gave the force of law to the plebiscita ? Who
does not see that the patricians had always the
According
to all appearances, it is true, their voice could be
neutralized by the force of numbers; but it is so
in every pure democracy. In Florence, in 1282,
the lords were declared inadmissible to public
offices, unless they disnobled themselves by causing
their names to be inscribed on the registers of some
trades-guild. Lastly, we have the law against the
nobility during the reign of terror in the French
revolution. At Athens ochlocracy was estab-
lished under the favor of the law. Men of merit
were then excluded, on account of their wealth or
their birth, from all part in public affairs; the
philosophers were persecuted, the allied cities
oppressed or destroyed. But this Athenian Och-
locracy had a great love of liberty, great political
good sense, a taste for the arts, and Sometimes
even moderation. Athens and Florence are al-
most the only two examples of the direct power
of the majority legally established. Most fre-
quently this despotism of the multitude follows
in the wake of a revolution which overthrows
the power of kings or of nobles; it establishes
itself arbitrarily, without rule, and without any
regard for the general interest or the interest of
all whose will it does not represent, or for indi-
vidual interests, the most sacred of which are the
1882, 1,768,781 thereof under wheat. The live stock of the
colony comprised 159,678 horses, 314,918 horned cattle and
6,810,856 sheep. The total value of South Australian im-
ports in 1882 was £5,890,000, and of exports, £5,280,000. 'The
three staple articles of export are wool, wheat and flour, and
vopper ore. The total exports of wool in 1881 amounted
to £1,911,927; the exports of wheat and flour, to £1,336,761;
and the exports of copper, to £263,370. Mining operations
are pursued on a very extensive scale in the colony. The
mineral wealth as yet discovered consists chiefly in copper,
besides which there exist iron ores of great richness. The
colony had 945 miles of railway open for traffic in July,
1882, and 174 miles of lines in course of construction. There
are two principal lines of railway, namely, the Port line,
extending from Adelaide to Port Adelaide, and the North
line, connecting Adelaide with the chief copper mines. The
colony had 4,946 miles of telegraph in operation at the end of
1881, with 7,227 miles of wire. Included in the total is an
overland line, opened in 1872, constructed at the expense of
the South Australian government, running from Adelaide to
Port Darwin, a distance of 2,000 miles. In 1882 there were
488 postoffices in the colony; and during 1880 there passed
through them 10,340,772 letters and packets, and 5,790,768
newspapers. — Tasmania. The area of this colony is esti-
mated at 26,215 square miles, or 16,778,000 acres, of which
15,571,500 acres form the area of Tasmania proper, the rest
constituting that of a number of small islands. The total
number of acres granted, or sold, up to the end of the year
1882, was 4,265,944; of these, 1,888,053 acres are held on
depasturing leases, 374,374 acres being under cultivation.
53.41 per cent. of the population belong to the church of
England; 22.24 per cent. to the church of Rome. At the
census of 1881 the number of persons returned as being
unable to read and write, was 31,080; as being able to read,
only 9,589. The number of immigrants in 1881 was 12,579;
that of emigrants, 11,163. The total value of the imports in
1881 was £1,438,524; that of the exports, £1,555,576. The
commerce of Tasmania is almost entirely with the United
Kingdom and the neighboring colonies of Victoria and New
South Wales. Wool is the staple article of export. There
were in the colony 27,805 horses, 130,526 head of cattle,
1,847,479 sheep and lambs, and 49,660 pigs, on March 31,
1882. The soil of the colony is rich in iron ore and tin, and
there are large beds of coal. Gold has also been found. The
exports of tin amounted in value to £375,775, and yield of
gold to £216,901 in 1881. At the end of 1881 there were 178
miles of railway open for traffic. At the commencement of
1882 the number of miles of telegraph line in operation was
928, and the number of stations, 85. In 1881, 147,660 tele-
graphic messages were sent. The submarine cable, estab-
lished in 1869, and connecting the colony with the continent
of Australia, carried 14,871 messages in 1880. The postoffice
carried, in the year 1881, 1,994,148 letters, 187,555 packets,
and 2,049,949 newspapers. — Victoria. The population of
this colony, which in 1836 was but 224, had increased in 1881
to 862,346. During the last decade there has been a large
decrease both in Chinese and aborigines. About one-half of
the total population of Victoria live in towns. The number
of immigrants in 1881 was 59,066, and that of emigrants,
51,744. The birth rate in Victoria was 30.75 per 1,000 in
1880. The two staple articles of export from the colony are
wool and gold. The total exports of wool amounted to
98,467,369 lbs., valued at £5,450,029, in 1881. In the ten years
from 1852 to 1861 the exports of gold amounted to upward of
two millions of ounces in weight per annum, but subse-
quently there was a gradual decline, till the year 1867, when
the exports fell to under a million and a half ounces. In
1881 the produce of gold amounted to 858,850 ounces, valued
at £3,674,104. There were 1,997,943 acres of land under
cultivation in the colony at the end of March, 1882. In recent
years there was a slowly increasing cultivation of the vine,
the number of acres planted amounting to 4,919. In the
twenty-seven stations.
year ended March 31, 1881, there were in the colony 275,516
horses, 1,286,267 head of cattle, 10,360,285 sheep, and 241,936
pigs. There were 1,214 miles of railway completed at the
end of 1881, and 450 miles in progress. There were 3,349
miles of telegraph lines, comprising 6,626 miles of wire,
open at the end of 1881. The number of telegraphic dis-
patches in the year 1881 was 1,281,749. At the end of 1881
there were 298 telegraph stations. The postoffice of the
colony forwarded 26,308,347 letters, 4,213,625 packets, and
11,440,732 newspapers, in the year 1881. There were 1,158
postoffices on Dec. 31, 1881. – Western Australia. The agri-
cultural prosperity of the colony has been greatly on the rise
in recent years; still, there were only 60,821 acres of land
under cultivation at the end of 1881, out of a total of
626,000,000 acres. The live stock consisted, in 1881, of
31,755 horses, 60,009 cattle, and 1,267,912 sheep. The total
value of imports in 1881 was £404,831, and of exports, £502,769.
Wool and lead are the principal articles of export. Copper
and coal are also found. There were eighty-eight miles of
railway open for traffic at the end of 1882. In 1881 there
were 1,585 miles of telegraph line within the colony, with
In 1881 there passed through the
postoffice 929,624 letters, 693,283 newspapers, and 79,313
packets.-F. M.
O'CONOR.
OFFICE-HOLDERS. 19
rights of man, and which the author of the Con-
trat Social justly regards as independent of the
general will. “In fact,” says he, (book ii., chap.
4), “so soon as there is question of an individual
right, upon a point which has not been regulated
by gencral and anterior agreeilleul, llial righl
becomes a bone of contention. It is a case in
which the individuals interested are one of the
parties and the public the other, but in which I
can neither see the law which is to be followed,
nor the judge who is to declare it. It would be
ridiculous, then, to leave the question to an
express decision of the general will, which can
only be the conclusion of one of the parties, and
which for the other, consequently, is only a strange
individual will, inclined to injustice and subject
to error.” If such be the character of the Om-
nipotence of the state over the individual, such
must be the omnipotence of one part of the nation
over the other, and if “the life and liberty of a
private person are naturally independent of the
public person” (book ii., chap. 5), there is a much
stronger reason why the life and liberty of a pri-
vate person should be independent of a collection
of private persons, like an oligarchy or an ochloc-
racy. — The history of the Paris commune, in
1871, presents a good example of what an oligar-
chy is. Whatever was the latitude allowed its
leaders, they were obliged to satisfy the general
will of their soldiers: a power impersonal, diffuse,
arbitrarily transferable, and which at a given mo-
ment resides entirely in the hands of a national
guard as well as of a delegate (minister). The rea-
son of this is, I think, that this kind of govern-
ment, having the habit of legislating on all things
in an absolute manner by exhausting at one stroke
all legal sanctions, makes everything an affair of
state. Besides, such a government is essentially
military, both on account of the incapacity of the
people to conceive any other political organization
than an army, and because of the violent circum-
stances which give it birth, and which drive it to
eXtremeS. JACQUES DE BOISJOSLIN.
O'CONOR, Charles, was born in New York
city Jan. 22, 1804, and was admitted to the bar in
1824. He very soon became a recognized leader
in his profession, to which he gave himself devot-
edly. He has never entered political life, but his
national reputation as a constitutional lawyer
made him against his will the candidate of those
democrats who refused to support Greeley in 1872.
(See DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN PARTY, WI.)
A. J.
OFFICE - HOLDERS, Danger of an Aris-
tocracy of. There is probably no objection to
permanent tenure in office, or to tenure during
good behavior, which has a stronger hold on that
portion of the public which has no direct interest
in the spoils system — that is, which does not
seek office as the reward of political services—
than the objection that it would convert the offi-
cers into a sort of aristocracy, whose manners
toward those with whom they had to trans-
act business would be haughty and overbear-
ing. I can hardly describe this objection better
than in the words of a western friend of the
movement, in a private letter written nearly two
years ago. He said: “The people mean by this
[an aristocracy of office-holders], that a continu-
ance in office of the same set of men creates in the
mind of the Office-holder the idea that he owns
the Office, and instead of being a public servant,
he becomes a master, haughty toward those whom
he ought to serve. Is it not quite a general experi-
ence with office-holders of long standing, that they
are apt to become somewhat overbearing 2 I am
inclined to think that they view it in that light, and
my experience is based upon conversation with
men of ordinary position in Society, who make
our majorities for us, who must be educated to
whatever of good there is in the reform idea, and
must be consulted as to its adoption, if the reform
ever becomes permanently ingrafted upon our
government and administration.” – If Americans
had had any such experience as this of the effect
of permanence in office on the manners of office-
holders, I admit freely that it would be very diffi-
cult for civil-service reformers to make head
against it. In politics no a priori argument can
stand for a moment with the mass of mankind
against actual observation. There would be no
use, for instance, in our saying that the effect of
appointment through competitive examination
upon the character of office-holders would be so
improving that they would be sure to be polite
and considerate in their intercourse with the peo-
ple, if the people had found that permanent offi-
cers, selected by any method whatever, were
haughty, overbearing, and acted as if the offices
were their private property. Nothing is more
difficult to eradicate than the remembrance of in-
sulting treatment at the hands of an aristocracy of
any kind. If the American people had suffered
in mind even, though not in body or estate, from
such a class at any time since the revolution,
and that class happened to be a permanent office-
holding class, we should, in short, be forced to
admit, that great as might be the abuses of the
present system, it was certainly the one best
adapted to the conditions of American Society,
and that we must make the best of it, just as we
make the best of the drawbacks on universal suf-
frage. — Curiously enough, however, no trace of
any such experience appears in the history of
the American civil service. Down to 1820, Office-
holders practically held during good behavior. It
was considered at first doubtful whether the presi-
dent had the discretionary power of removal at
all. It was settled in 1789 that he had it, but
its exercise was long viewed with great disfa-
vor. It was, said Webster, speaking in 1835, “re-
garded as a suspected and odious power. Public
opinion would not always tolerate it, and still less
frequently did it approve it. Something of char-
acter, something of the respect of the intelligent
and patriotic part of the community, was lost by
20
OFFICE-HOLDERS.
every instance of its unnecessary exercise.” And
it was very sparingly exercised. During Wash-
ington's administration only nine persons were
removed from office; during John Adams', ten ;
during Jefferson's, thirty-nine ; during Madison's,
five ; during John Quincy Adams', only two. In
1820 the first change in this tenure was made by
the passage of an act which fixed at four years the
term of all those called accounting officers, that
is, officers who had the , handling of considerable
sums of public money. Now, if this act was due,
in part even, to the popular perception of the
growth among the office-holders of pride of sta-
tion and of a sense of proprietorship in the office,
it would undoubtedly have found expression in
the discussions which preceded or attended its
passage. But there is no trace of any such mo-
tive in the reports or chronicles of the day. Noth-
ing of the kind appears to have been alleged by
the promoters of the measure. In fact, it does
not appear to have occurred to any one as an ar-
gument likely to help its passage. The bill was
due to the fact that there had been many defalca-
tions and irregularities among this class of officers,
owing to want of proper supervision, and to the
belief that if the tenure were limited to four years,
and they were thus compelled to account period-
ically by mere operation of law, they would be
more careful and strict in the discharge of their
duties in the meantime. — In 1830 a resolution
was introduced in the Senate, calling on the presi-
dent for the reason of his removing certain offi-
cers; and in the debate which followed, Mr. Ben-
ton, of Missouri, stated very clearly and suc-
cinctly the motives which animated those who
brought about the legislation of 1820. He said:
“The legislator in 1820 naturally asked himself
what term and tenure of office would attain the
desired public security ? To hold for life would
be too irresponsible. To fix his tenure during
good behavior would not remedy the evils of the
old law. There must be a process at law to
convict him of the cause before the removing
power could be exerted. To make him removable
at the will of the president alone, as in the case of
1789, would make the president too absolute; and
hence the provision for a term of years, provided
he so long behaved faithfully, removable at the
pleasure of the appointing power during his term,
if he gave cause.” — Now, what were these
“evils of the old law,” to which he refers ? He
thus describes them, and his description was not
gainsaid by anybody : “By the old law there
was no summary power except the disputed one
of taking care that the laws be faithfully exe-
cuted, to arrest the career of official delinquency;
and the process was doubtful and dilatory by
which the cause of removal was to be established,
whether by impeachment, indictment, or by civil
suit. The evil of the old law was, that while the
government was plodding through some tedious
process of law, amidst its delays and proverbial
uncertainties, the defaulter could embezzle our
funds and ruin our affairs so far as they lay with-
in his control, and escape to Texas, etc., before
the process had ascertained whether there was
lawful cause for removal or not.” – In short,
the act of 1820 was intended to provide a safe-
guard against peculation. The safeguard, it is
true, was a clumsy one, but nobody appears to
have thought of it as a safeguard also against
the growth of bureaucratic pride and insolence.
Webster spoke on the same subject five years
later, in a debate on a bill repealing the act of
1820. He was opposed to this act, but he con-
fessed that some good had resulted from it. “I
agree,” he said, “that it has in some instances
secured promptitude, diligence and a sense of
responsibility. These were the benefits which
those who passed the law expected from it, and
these benefits have in some measure been real-
ized.” He goes on to say, however, that the bene-
fits wrought by the change have been accompa-
nied by a far more than equivalent amount of
evil—an opinion which, if he were alive to-day,
he would probably express in a still stronger and
more unqualified form. But neither he nor any
of his contemporaries appear to have thought of
the act as an act for the abolition of an official
aristocracy, nor for reminding office-holders that
they were the servants, not the masters, of the
people. It made them prompter and more dili-
gent than they had been in writing up their books,
and in collecting and arranging their vouchers,
and in having their balances properly adjusted at
the expiration of their term; but nowhere is there
any indication that it was intended to reach the
evil which we now hear spoken of as the very
probable result of a tenure during good behavior,
and as the greatest objection to a recurrence in
our time to the old system. Webster defended
the repealing bill, on the ground that the act of
1820 had given the president too much power, by
creating vacancies for him to fill which he would
not have ventured to create for himself, and
which the constitution, in his (Webster's) view,
did not intend that he should have the power of
creating, and the creation of which demoralized
the service. He advocated the retention of the
old tenure during good behavior, leaving the of
fenses committed by officers to be punished by
some legal process, instead of having the tenure
of office settled on the theory that every officer
would commit offenses if left undisturbed in his
place more than four years. In fact, he advo-
cated it on precisely the grounds on which the
friends of civil-service reform now advocate it.
‘‘I think,” said he, “it will make the men more
dependent on their own good conduct, and less
dependent on the will of others. I believe it will
cause them to regard their country more, their
duty more, and the favor of individuals less. I
think it will contribute to official respectability,
to freedom of opinion, to independence of char-
acter; and I think it will tend in no small degree
to prevent the mixture of selfish and personal mo-
tives with the exercise of political duties.” But
it evidently did not occur to him that it was nec-
OFFICE-HOLDERS.
21
essary to show that it would not create a haughty
bureaucracy. — The spoils system, as we now
know it, was introduced by Jackson. The re-
movals, which only amounted to two altogether
under John Quincy Adams, suddenly rose in
Jackson's first year to nine hundred and ninety.
This sudden change in the way of looking at
places in the federal service of course provoked
a great deal of discussion and denunciation.
Jackson's use of his power was fiercely assailed
and fiercely defended during his two terms, both
in and out of congress. But we may search the
debates and the newspapers between 1830 and 1840
in vain for an assertion that the revolution had
been called for, or was justified by the effect of
security on the manners of office-holders, or by the
growth of a feeling among office-holders that their
tenure of their places made them a class apart
from and superior to the rest of the community.
There was, instead, a great deal of assertion in
Jackson's defense that, if tenure during good be-
havior had lasted, this feeling would have sprung
up, just as there is now much prediction that, if
this tenure were to be restored, the feeling would
spring up. But no one alleged that it had sprung
up, and had constituted a reason for beginning the
practice of frequent removals, to which the ab-
surd name of “rotation” was afterward given.
In other words, no attempt was made to justify
Jackson's introduction of the régime under which
we are now living by pointing out that partic-
ular effect of the old régime on the office-holding
mind, which is now alleged as the chief obstacle
to its restoration. In short, the American people
really knows nothing from its own experience,
however much it may know in other ways, of the
tendency of permanent tenure to create and per-
petuate a caste. — The belief that this tendency
exists, must, therefore, be a deduction from the
experience of foreign nations, or from general
principles of human nature. It must rest, in
other words, on the assumption that what happens
in England or on the European continent is sure to
happen here, and that it is his security of tenure
which gives the foreign official that sense of his
Own Superiority for the display of which he has
long been famous. Nothing is older in story than
the “insolence of office.” We can go back to no
time, in the annals of the old world, when the
man “dressed in a little brief authority” was not
an object of popular odium. See, it is said, what
the manners of the German and Russian, and
even the French and English, officials are: such
will the manners of our officials be should we
ever permit them to hold their places, as these
foreigners do, during good behavior, and fail to
remind them by frequent or periodical dismissals
without cause (which is really what is meant by
short fixed terms) of how little consequence they
are to the community which they serve. The
answer to this is, that the argument rests on the
assumption that greater security of tenure con-
stitutes the only difference between the condition
of the American and that of the European office-
holder, whereas there are numerous other differ-,
ences. Nothing has so much to do with a man’s
manners as the manners of the society in which
he lives. No one can wholly, or even in great
part, withdraw himself from this influence with-
out partial or complete isolation, such as that in
which soldiers live in barracks or camp, or monks
in their monastery. In order to make any body of
men really peculiar, either mentally or physical-
ly, we have to take possession of their whole lives,
and impose great restrictions on their intercourse
with the community at large, and effect a con-
siderable, if not complete, severance between their
interests and the general interest. No modern
state, however, subjects its civil functionaries to
any such treatment. They all, out of office
hours, live as they please. They marry and are
given in marriage, and spend their salaries in
precisely the same manner as other salaried peo-
ple. Their society is the society of persons of
like tastes and like manners. They are, in short,
an integral part of the community, getting their
livelihood by a kind of labor in which a large
body of their fellow-citizens are engaged. A
clerk in the postoffice or custom house or treasury,
is occupied in very much the same way as a clerk
in a banking house or store. If, therefore, the
manners of the government officials be marked by
any peculiarity not visible in those of employés
of private firms, it must be due to something else
than the kind of work they do, and the manner
in which they spend their salaries. It is due, in
fact, to the place held by the governing class in
the social and political organization. – If this
governing class be a social aristocracy, the office-
holders, as the machine through which power is
exercised, will naturally, and, indeed, almost in-
evitably, contract the habit of looking on them-
selves as a part of it. In a society made up of
distinctly marked grades, the government officials
almost inevitably form a grade, and copy every-
body else in looking down on the grades below
them. The English or German official gives him-
self airs and thinks himself an aristocrat because,
as a matter of fact, his official superiors are aris-
tocrats, and the government is administered in all
the higher branches by an aristocracy. It is
difficult, if not impossible, for a servant of the
crown to avoid arrogating to himself a share of the
crown's dignity. In any country in which politics
is largely managed by an aristocracy, the aristo-
cratic view of life is sure to permeate the civil as
well as the military service, be the terms long or
short. In such a country, a great deal of the
pleasure of life is derived from the reflection that
One has “inferiors.” The nobleman takes Com-
fort in his superiority to the commoner; the gen-
tleman, in his superiority to the man in trade;
the barrister, in his superiority to the attorney;
the merchant, in his superiority to the shopkeeper.
It would be impossible for any system of appoint-
ment or any tenure of office to cut off the govern-
ment officers, any more than any other class, from
this source of happiness. The social position the
22
OFFICE-HOLDERS.
place gives them is one of the rewards of their
services, and they would be more than human if
they did not reveal their appreciation of it. The
state official really shows his sense of his own im-
portance no more than, if so much as, any other
man who has an assured income and considers his
position “gentlemanly.” The manners of the
government clerk in England very much resem-
ble those of the successful barrister’s clerk, or the
clerk in the great banking house; they are neither
better nor worse. — If the English and German
officials were all appointed and held office under
the spoils system, and had their “heads cut off"
every time there was a change in the ministry, or
a new man got the king's ear, there is every rea-
son for believing that they would be much more
insolent or overbearing than they are now, as
they would share in the excitement of the politi-
cal strife, and in the pride of victory, and in
the contempt for the vanquished, which form
so marked a feature in official life here. They
would, too, fall rapidly into the habit, which is
so strong among our office-holders, of treating
non-official criticism of their manner of perform-
ing their duties as simply a weapon in the hands
of those who want their places, and not as a
help toward the improvement of the public serv-
ice. — In the United States, on the other hand,
not only are the traditions of the government
democratic, but the social organization is demo-
cratic. What is of still more importance for our
present purpose, the popular view of the social
value of different callings is thoroughly demo-
cratic. There is little or no conventional dignity
attached to any profession or occupation. As
there is hardly anything honest which a man may
not do for hire without damage to his social posi-
tion, so there is hardly anything he can do for
hire which will raise the value of his social-posi-
tion. In every country in the world the office-
holder, like everybody else, bases his own opin-
ion of himself and his office on the opinion of
them entertained by the public. He thinks highly
of them because his neighbors do. The Prussian
or English civil or military officer bristles with
the pride of station, largely because the public
considers his station something to be proud of.
So, also, in America, the office-holder does not
bristle with pride of station, because nobody
thinks his station anything to be proud of. He is
not kept humble by the insecurity of his tenure,
but by the absence of popular reverence for his
place. The custom house or postoffice clerk as a
matter of fact knows very well that the world
thinks no more of his place than it thinks of the
place of a bank clerk or commercial traveler.
One of the very odd things in the popular dread
of an office-holding aristocracy is, that it arises out
of the belief that an aristocracy can build itself
up on self-esteem, simply. But no aristocracy
has ever been formed in any such way. It grows
upon popular admission of its superiority, and
not simply on its own estimate of itself. The
attempts which have been occasionally made to
create an aristocracy in new countries, or in coun-
tries in which the respect for station has died out,
have always failed miserably for this reason. —
Moreover, association with the government and
the exercise of a portion of its authority do less,
and must always do less, for an office-holder in
this than in other countries, because there is here
absolutely no mystery about government. Its
origin is not veiled from the popular gaze by
antiquity, or tradition, or immemorial custom.
Nowhere else in the world does sovereignty pre-
sent itself in such naked, unadorned simplicity to
those who have to live under it. Nowhere else is
so little importance attached to permanence either
in government office or any other office. In Amer-
ica it brings a man no particular credit to remain
long in the same position doing the same thing.
In fact, with the bulk of the population it brings
him some discredit, as indicating a deficiency of
the great national attribute of energy. Outside
the farming class, the American who passes his
life in the position in which he began it, without
any extension or change of his business, or with-
out in some manner improving his condition by
a display of enterprise or activity, is distinctly
held to have failed, Or, rather, not to have suc-
ceeded. There is probably no country in the
world in which the popular imagination is so little
touched by a contented and tranquil life in a
modest station, or by prolonged fidelity in the
discharge of humble duties. Public opinion,
indeed, almost exacts of every man the display of
a restless and ambitious activity. The popular
hero is not the contemplative scholar, or the cau-
tious dealer who relies on small but sure profits
for a provision for his old age. It is the bold
speculator, who takes great risks, and is in con-
stant pursuit of fresh markets to conquer, and
new demands to supply. It is not “the poor
boy” who stays poor and happy, around whom
the popular fancy plays admiringly, but the poor
boy who becomes a great manufacturer, or the
president of a bank or railroad company, or the
master of large herds, or the owner of rich mines.
The very familiar personage of European count-
ing houses and banks, the gray-headed clerk or
book-keeper, is almost unknown here. In fact,
employers would think but little of the young
book-keeper or clerk who made no effort to im-
prove his condition, and did not look forward to
a change of pursuits before he reached middle
life. It may be said, indeed, without exaggera-
tion, that the security of tenure which contributes
so much to the value of a position in Europe,
counts for but little in popular estimate of it in
America. Places which “lead to nothing” are
not made any more attractive among us by the
circumstance that they are easy to keep if one
wishes. Indeed, such places are rather avoided
by young men whose self-esteem is high, when
they are entering on life, and those who accept
them are apt to be set down as having, in a cer-
tain sense, withdrawn from the race. — In Europe,
on the other hand, security or fixity of tenure,
OFFICE-HOLDERS.
23
owing to the very much smaller number of
chances offered there than here by social and com-
mercial conditions to the enterprising and ener-
getic man, adds very greatly to the value of an
office of any kind, and not only to its value, but
to its dignity. The person who has it, even if the
Salary be very small, is considered by the public
to have drawn one of the prizes of life, and ex-
cites envy, rather than commiseration, even among
the young. The prodigious eagerness for gov-
ernment office in France is due, in a very large
degree, to the fact that government offices are
permanent—a quality which more than makes up
for the extreme smallness of the salaries. In Eng-
land commerce competes formidably in the labor
market with the crown, and the spirit of the peo-
ple is much more adventurous; but the certainty
of a small income has even there attractions for
the young which are unknown in this country.
This certainty always has a powerful influence in
exalting the social position of the man who has
managed to lay hold of it, in places in which
recovery from failure or miscarriage is difficult,
and in which mistakes in the choice of a calling
are not easily rectified. The whole spirit of Amer-
ican society is, however, hostile to the idea that
permanence is a thing which a young man will do
well to seek. This feeling will, beyond question,
operate in one way, if we ever come back to ten-
ure in office during good behavior, to lower rather
than raise the office-holding class, as a class, in the
popular estimation. Far from converting it into
an aristocracy, it will probably put a certain
stamp of business inferiority on it in the eyes of
“the live men,” the pushing, active, busy, ad-
venturous multitude, who, after all, make the
Standards of social value which are in commonest
use. — At present, office holding as a business
really gets a kind of credit from its extreme pre-
cariousness and uncertainty. It is felt that any-
body who gets into it must be in some sense
“practical.” He may have failed in trade, or in
Some profession, or have, through some moral
defect, lost all chance with private employers, but
then he must have, if he has got a government
office, made himself useful to “an influence ’’
through some kind of “work.” Successful elec-
tioneering, for instance, may not require a high
order of talent, or very much character, but any-
body who achieves it must have push and energy
and some knowledge of men, and these are, of
course, no mean qualifications for success in life.
Any one who possesses them, though he may
make a wretched custom house or postoffice clerk,
will be sure of a certain amount of consideration
from the busy world, which would not be accorded
to the modest, easily contented man who, in
choosing his calling, seeks only mental peace. In
truth, to sum up, there is no country in which it
would be so hard for an aristocracy of any kind
to be built up as this, and probably no class seek-
ing to make itself an aristocracy would, in the
United States, have a smaller chance of success
than a body composed of unambitious, quiet-
minded, unadventurous government officers, do-
ing routine work on small salaries, and with but
little chance or desire of ever passing from the
employed into the employing class. One might
nearly as well try to make an aristocracy out of
the college professors or public school teachers. —
There is no society which at present makes so lit-
tle provision for this class as ours. We do noth-
ing to turn them to account. They are a class
eminently fitted for government service, or any
Service of which tenure during good behavior is
one of the conditions, and in which fidelity rather
than initiative is a leading requirement. At pres-
ent they furnish a very large share of the business
failures, and contribute powerfully to produce
Our panics by being forced into the commercial
arena without the kind of judgment or nerve
which the commercial struggle calls for. If we
tried to economize labor, and put the right men
in the right places in our national administrative
machine, we should undoubtedly offer this class,
which has just the kind of talent and character
we need for government work, the thing which
most attracts them, by offering them positions
which no commercial crisis could put in peril,
and which they could hold as long as they did
their work well. — Even if it were established,
however, that the selection by competitive exami-
nation and tenure during good behavior would
make the Office-holder feel himself the master of
the people, and express his sense of his superior-
ity in his behavior, the question whether the pres-
ent system establishes a satisfactory relation be-
tween the people and the civil servants of the
government would still have to be answered. It
may be that the thing we propose would be no
improvement on the thing that is, but the fact
that the existing system has the very defect which
it is contended that the new system would have,
and which is offered as a fatal objection to the
introduction of the new system, is one which the
friends of “rotation ” can not expect us to pass
over unnoticed. — It may be laid down as one of
the maxims of the administrative art, that no pub-
lic officer can ever take the right view of his office,
or of his relation to the people whom he serves,
who feels that he has owed his appointment to
any qualification but his fitness, or holds it by
any tenure but that of faithful performance. No
code of rules can take the place of this feeling.
No shortening of the term can take its place. The
act of 1820 was simply a very rude, clumsy plan
of getting rid of the duty of careful supervision
and good discipline. Turning out all the officers
every four years, in order to make sure that they
keep their accounts well, instead of turning
out as soon as possible those who do not keep
their accounts well, and retaining as long as
possible those who do keep their accounts well,
reminds one of the old woman who whipped all .
her children every night on a general presumption
of blameworthiness. A suggestion of such a
scheme of precaution in a bank would excite mer-
riment. A man’s best service is given to those
24
OHIO.
on whose good opinion he is dependent for the
retention of his place. Under the spoils system,
places are filled without any reference to the good
opinion of the public ; in fact, very often in de-
fiance of the public. They are given as rewards
to men of whom the public knows nothing, for
services of which the public has never heard, and
which have generally been rendered to individu-
als. An officer who owes his appointment to a
party manager for aid given him in politics, can
not but feel that his main concern in discharging
the duties of his place must be the continued
favor of the person to whom he owes it, and not
the favor of the public which has had nothing to
do with it. It is, consequently, impossible to ex-
pect such an officer to feel that the public is his
master, or to show in his manner that he is in any
way dependent on its good opinion. He feels
that the boss or senator who got him his place is
his master, and that his mode of discharging his
duty must be such as to merit his approbation.
He does not fancy that he himself owns the
office, but he fancies that another man does, and
as long as he considers it the property of any one
man, it makes little difference to the public which
man. — The only way in which the proprietorship
of the public can ever be brought home to office-
holders is through a system which, whatever its
modus operand, makes capacity the one reason
for appointment, and efficiency the one safeguard
against dismissal. No such system now exists
here. Those who say that the plan of the civil-
service reformers would not produce it may be
right, but it is not open to them to make in sup-
port of their opposition a charge which is notori-
ously true of the system they are upholding.
Whether the proposed change, therefore, be the
best one or not, some change, it must be admitted,
is imperatively necessary. In fighting against
any change, we are trying to avoid that adapta-
tion of our administrative system to the vast
social and commercial changes of the past half
century, from which no civilized people can now
escape, and which all the leading nations of
Europe have effected or are effecting.
who takes the trouble to examine the reforms
which have been carried out since 1815, in France,
or England, or Germany, which in all these coun-
tries have amounted to a social transformation,
will be surprised to find how much of them con-
sists simply in improvements in administration,
Or, rather, how fruitless the best legislative
changes would have been without improved ad-
ministrative machinery for their execution. We
Can not very much longer postpone the work
which other nations have accomplished, and nei-
ther can we avoid it by plans—like Mr. Pendle-
ton's constitutional amendment—for getting rid
of responsibility by making more executive offices
elective. This, like the act of 1820, is simply a
makeshift. Nobody pretends that elected post-
masters would be any better than, or as good as,
properly appointed postmasters All that can be
Said for them is, that they would save the president
Any one
a good deal of trouble under the present spoils
system. But the remedy for one absurdity is not
to be found in another absurdity. When a thing
is being done by a wrong method, we do not
mend matters by trying another wrong method.
The true cure for the defects in the present sys-
tem of transacting public business is, the adoption
of the methods which are found successful in pri-
vate business. These are well known. They are
as old as civilization. They are gradually taking
possession of government business all over the
world. Our turn will come next, and, in spite of
“politics,” will probably come soon.*
E. L. GODKIN.
OHIO, a state of the American Union, formed
from the northwest territory. (See ORDINANCE
OF 1787; TERRITORIES.) Its territory north to
latitude 41° was a part of the Virginia cession;
the remainder was a part of the Connecticut ces-
sions, in which Connecticut retained the owner-
ship but not the jurisdiction of the tract along
Lake Erie, since known as the Connecticut reserve.
The name of the state was given from that of the
river which is its southern boundary, a more
euphonic corruption of the Indian name You-
ghiogheny. — By the act of May 7, 1800, that part
of the northwest territory now included in Ohio
was set off under a distinct territorial government,
and the remainder was organized as the territory
of Indiana. (See INDIANA.) By the act of April
30, 1802, the people of Ohio were “authorized to
form for themselves a constitution and state gov-
ernment,” and a convention at Chillicothe, Nov.
1–29, 1802, formed the first constitution, which
went into force without submission to popular
vote. The act of Feb. 19, 1803, did not purport
to admit the state, but declared that Ohio, by the
formation of its constitution in pursuance of the
act of April 30, 1802, “has become one of the
United States of America,” and provided for the
extension of federal laws to the new state. It is
therefore a little doubtful whether Ohio as a state
dates from Nov. 29, 1802, or from Feb. 19, 1803:
the latter is the date, if the precedents in the case
of the admitting acts of all other new states are to
govern this case; the former, if we are to be gov-
ermed by the express language of the act of Feb. 19,
1803. —Bound ARIES. The boundaries assigned
by the enabling act and the state constitution were
as follows: east, the Pennsylvania line; south, the
Ohio river; west, a due north line from the mouth
of the Great Miami river; and north, an east and
west line drawn through the southerly extreme of
Lake Michigan to Lake Erie, and thence through
the lake to the Pennsylvania line. It was, how-
ever, doubtful at the time whether this northern
boundary would meet Lake Erie east of the
“Miami river of the lake” [Maumee]; if it should
prove to do so, both the enabling act and the
* This article was originally printed in pamphlet form as
one of the publications of the civil-service reform associa-
tion, with whose kind permission, together with the permis-
sion of the author, it appears here.—ED.
OHIO.
25
state constitution reserved the power to so amend
it as to make the Maumee the terminus of the
east and west line. Before Michigan was admit-
ted as a state, it was ascertained that a direct
eastward line, as originally proposed, would enter
Lake Erie so far east as to give to Michigan about
half of Ohio's lake coast, and a valuable strip of
land in the north, including the city of Toledo.
Michigan pressed her claim, and the dispute rose
to such a height as to be given the popular title
of the “Toledo war.” It was settled by the act
of June 15, 1836, to admit Michigan as a state:
its first section provided that the northern bound-
ary of Ohio should not be a direct east and west
line, but should trend to the north far enough to
strike the most northerly cape of Maumee bay,
thus giving Ohio the territory in dispute. Michi-
gan at first rejected but afterward accepted admis-
sion on these terms. – CONSTITUTIONS. The first
constitution, mentioned above, made manhood
suffrage universal, on one year's residence; pro-
vided for a house of representatives to number
not less than twenty-four nor more than seventy-
two members, to serve one year, and for a senate
not more than one-half nor less than one-third the
number of the house, to be chosen by districts
and to serve two years; made two-thirds of each
house a quorum to do business; gave the gov-
ernor a term of two years; and prohibited slav-
ery. The governor was to be chosen by popu-
lar vote, but was to have no veto power, nor
any other power than to grant reprieves and
pardons, convene extra sessions of the legisla-
ture, command the state forces, commission
appointees, and temporarily fill vacancies occur-
ring when the legislature was not in Session.
The secret of this restriction upon the govern-
or's powers, which was continued in the con-
stitution of 1851, may probably be found in the
frequent disagreements which had taken place
between Governor St. Clair and the territorial
legislatures. – A new constitution was framed by a
convention at Columbus, May 6 – July 9, 1850,
and Cincinnati, Dec. 2, 1850 – March 10, 1851, and
was ratified, June 17, by a popular vote of 126,663
to 109,699. Its main alterations were that the
sessions of the legislature were now to be biennial;
a complicated apportionment system, apparently
modeled on that of Massachusetts, was introduced;
state officers, except the governor, were to be
chosen by the legislature; the legislature was for-
bidden to loan the state's credit to corporations or
to create corporations by special laws; and the
judiciary was made elective. — A new constitution
was framed by a convention at Columbus, May
14– Aug. 8, 1873, and Cincinnati, Dec. 2, 1873–
May 14, 1874; but it was rejected by very heavy
popular majorities, Aug. 18. A Subsequent at-
tempt to revise the judiciary system was also a
failure. — Chillicothe was the state capital until
1810, and Zanesville until 1812. In February,
1812, the legislature accepted the offers of a land
company to lay out a capital, and erect a state
house and penitentiary. The new city was called
Columbus, and the state government was removed
thither in December, 1816. The constitution of
1851 formally designated it as the capital. —
GOVERNORs. Edward Tiffin, 1802–8; Samuel
Huntington, 1808–10; R. J. Meigs, 1810–14; Thos.
Worthington, 1814–18; Ethan A. Brown, 1818–
22; Jeremiah Morrow, 1822–6; Allen Trimble,
1826–30; Duncan McArthur, 1830–32; Robert
Lucas, 1832–6; Joseph Vance, 1836–8; Wilson
Shannon, 1838–40; Thomas Corwin, 1840–42; Wil-
son Shannon, 1842–4; Mordecai Bartley, 1844–6;
William Bebb, 1846–50; Reuben Hood, 1850–54;
William Medill, 1854–6; Salmon P. Chase,
1856–60; William Denison, 1860–62; David Tod,
1862–4; John Brough, 1864-6; J. D. Cox, 1866–8;
R. B. Hayes, 1868–72; Edward F. Noyes, 1872–4;
William Allen, 1874–6; R. B. Hayes, 1876–8; R.
M. Bishop, 1878–80; Charles Foster, 1880–84.—
POLITICAL HISTORY. Ohio was admitted to the
Union at a time (1802–3) when there was practi-
cally but one party in the country, outside of
New England; it was therefore of necessity a
republican (or democratic) state from the begin-
ning. It was such of choice also; the great dem-
ocratic features of policy at the time, the acquisi-
tion of Louisiana, the war of 1812, and the oppo-
sition to a national bank, were all very popular in
Ohio, and for thirty years there was little or no
opposition to the democratic party in the state's
elections. In local politics the most noteworthy
features were due to the great mass of power
which the constitution had concentrated in the
legislature. That body, provoked by certain de-
cisions of the state judges on the validity of state
laws, passed its so-called “sweeping resolution,”
Jan. 7, 1810, declaring that, as the state had been
organized in 1802, and as the judicial term of
office was “seven years,” the seats of all state
judges were now vacant, no matter when their
incumbents had been appointed. The judges
held to their offices, and the “sweeping resolu-
tion” failed, except in causing a momentary con-
fusion. Again, in 1818, the legislature attacked
the state branch of the United States bank (see
BANK CONTROVERSIES, III.), but the attempt was
defeated by the United States supreme court, and
was finally abandoned under cover of several
angry resolutions. – Schemes of internal improve-
ment, chiefly in the form of roads and canals,
early found favor in Ohio, so that, when the new
distribution of national parties took place in
1824–30, a strong vote was developed for Adams
and Clay, and the policy of internal improvements
and a protective tariff which they represented.
In 1824 Clay obtained the electoral vote of the
state by a slight plurality over Adams and Jack-
son; in 1828 and 1832 Jackson obtained a major-
ity of only # of 1 per cent. of the popular vote.
In 1829 a Clay governor was elected, and the state
government was nominally whig until 1838. The
electoral vote of the state was given to Harrison
in 1836. — In 1837–8 began a general course of
democratic success in the state, which lasted until
1855, with but two important breaks, the presi-
26
OHIO.
dential elections of 1840 and 1844. In both of
these the state's electoral votes were given to the
whig candidates, Harrison and Clay respectively,
and the whig candidates for governor were
carried in by the current. In 1845 the whig leg-
islature sent Corwin to the senate, in which the
state was represented by democrats from 1837
until 1855, with the exceptions of Corwin and
Chase. — At its meeting in December, 1848, the
lower house of the legislature was unable to organ-
ize for some time. The vote of Cincinnati had
long made the five Hamilton county members
democratic; the last whig legislature had there-
fore divided the county into two districts, thus
securing two whig members. The democrats
ignored the act as unconstitutional, and elected
five members, as usual. The election clerk gave
the two disputed democratic members certificates.
In December the democrats swore in forty-two
members, including Pugh and Pierce, of Hamil-
ton county; and the whigs thirty-two, including
Spencer and Runyon, contestants. Neither side
would act with the other, and two inchoate houses
were organized; but neither had the two-thirds
majority necessary for a quorum. The dead-lock
was broken by an agreement that the seventy
uncontested members should organize the house,
and Pugh and Pierce were seated, Jan. 26, 1849,
by a vote of 32 to 31. Chase's election as United
States senator in 1849 seems to have been at least
partially influenced by this dispute. A strong
anti-slavery element had always existed in the
state democratic party, represented by such lead-
ers as Thomas Morris and Benjamin Tappan. In
this legislature the whigs and free-soil whigs
together exactly equaled the numbers of the
democrats, and the balance of power was held by
two independent free-soilers. These agreed to
vote with the democrats on nominations for state
officers if the latter would repeal the “black laws”
of the state against negroes (see SLAVERY, II.),
and elect S. P. Chase, a free-soil democrat,
to the senate. The bargain was carried out, Feb.
22, 1849, and Chase was elected. — In 1846 and
1848 the whig candidate for governor, Bebb, was
elected by a narrow majority in both cases
(116,900 to 114,570, and 147,738 to 146,461); but
in 1848 the electoral votes were democratic by a
plurality. In 1850 Wood, a democrat, was elected
governor by a vote of 133,093 to 121,105 whig, and
13,802 free-soil; and in 1853 the vote for Medill,
democrat, was 147,663 to 85,820 whig, and
50,346 free-soil. In 1854 the whig and free-soil
vote was united under the name of the republican
party. Its first state convention was held at Co-
lumbus, July 13, 1854; and its nominee for gov-
ernor, Chase, was elected in 1855 by a vote of
146,641 to 131,091 for Medill, and 24,310 for
Trimble (American). The legislature was heavily
republican in both branches, and the congressional
delegation of twenty-one members was unani-
mously republican. In 1856 the electoral vote of
the state was given to Fremont; it has since been
given to the republican candidates invariably, the
only very close popular vote being in 1876, when
Hayes received 330,698, Tilden 323,182, and 4,769
were scattering.—From 1856 until 1860 the repub-
licans held general control of the state, though in
1857 a democratic legislature was chosen, and
Gov. Chase was only re-elected by 1,481 majority
over Henry B. Payne. During all this period the
old national road through the middle of the state
(see CUMBERLAND ROAD) was a sort of Mason
and Dixon’s line between the democratic southern
and the republican northern halves of the state.
The outbreak of the rebellion brought the state into
a greater national prominence than it had hitherto
had. The high intellectual and physical standard
of the population enabled it to contribute more
than its share of military and civil leaders, Mc-
Dowell, McClellan, Rosecrans, Grant, Buell, O.
M. Mitchell, W. T. Sherman, Gillmore, Sheridan,
McPherson, McCook, Custer, Stanton, Wade,
Chase, John Sherman, Hayes, and Garfield, were
all born or resident in the state in 1861. The en-
thusiasm for the war, and the close union of the
war democrats and republicans made the state
majority heavy and steady: war appropriations
in 1861 were made by unanimous votes of both
parties; and the republicans nominated former
democrats for governor, Tod in 1861, Brough in
1863, and Cox in 1865. In 1863 the arrest of
Wallandigham (see HABEAs CoRPUs) obtained for
him the democratic nomination for governor; but
after an excited canvass he was defeated by a
popular vote of 247,194 to 185,274, and a soldiers’
vote of 41,467 to 2,288; total majority, 101,099.
The state remained republican until 1873, except
that in 1867, when Hayes defeated Thurman for
the governorship, by the narrow majority of
2,983, the legislature was democratic in both
branches by majorities of one and seven respect-
ively. The new legislature rescinded the rati-
fication of the 14th amendment, Jan. 15, 1868,
and rejected the 15th amendment, April 1, 1869.
(See ConstLTUTION, III.) — In 1873 the demo-
crats nominated for governor William Allen, who
had not been in political life since his retire-
ment from the senate in 1849, and he defeated
Governor Noyes by a vote of 214,654 to 213,837,
and 20,387 scattering. The legislature was
also democratic, but the other state officers
elected were republicans. In 1875 the republicans
brought back ex-Governor Hayes as a candidate,
and he defeated Allen by a plurality of 5,644, the
legislature again becoming republican. This suc-
cess obtained for Governor Hayes the republican
nomination for the presidency in the following
year. The state has since remained republican,
except that in 1877, on a light vote, the democrats
elected the governor and a majority of both
branches of the legislature. The new legislature
proceeded to change the congressional districts of
the state, which had been laid out after the census
of 1870, and to reorganize the state institutions,
so as to obtain a party control of them; but its
work in both respects was undone by the follow-
ing legislature, which was republican. — During
OLIGARCHY.
27
the period 1868–75 the political contests of Ohio
were of national importance from the attitude of
the parties. In the democratic party the “Ohio
idea,” that United States bonds not specifically pay-
able in coin should be paid in “greenbacks,” and
that national bank 110tes should be superseded by
government issues of paper money, had obtained
control, under the leadership at first of Pendle-
ton, and then of Ewing; and the republican
party had been gradually forced to take a “hard
money” attitude. The Allen-Noyes and Hayes-
Allen canvasses had taken this direction; and
both the success of Hayes and the defeat of Allen
in 1875 had a strong influence on the party plat-
forms of the next year, which ended the question.
Since that time the regulation of the liquor traffic
has become a leading question. (See PROHIBI-
TION.) The republicans at first adopted and passed
the so-called “Pond law,” for the taxation of
liquor selling; but this was decided unconstitu-
tional by the state supreme court, May 30, 1882.
The republicans then passed the “Scott law,”
which was upheld by the state court in June,
1883. It forbids liquor selling or opening Saloons
on Sundays, and levies a tax of $200 yearly on
general liquor sellers, and $100 on sellers of malt
liquors, the whole tax to go into the county and
municipal treasuries. – From 1860 until 1883 the
republicans had a majority of the state's Con-
gressmen, except in 1875–7 and 1879–81. In the
congress of 1883–5 there are thirteen democratic
representatives and eight republicans; and the
legislature is (1884) democratic by sixty to fif-
teen in the house, and twenty-two to eleven in
the senate. — Among the state's political leaders
have been S. P. Chase, J. A. Garfield, W. H. Har-
rison, R. B. Hayes, John McLean, George H. Pen-
dleton, John Sherman, E. M. Stanton, A. G. Thur-
man, and Benj. F. Wade (see those names), and
the following: William Allen, democratic con-
gressman 1833–5, United States senator 1837–49,
and governor 1874–6; James M. Ashley, republi-
can congressman 1859–69; John A. Bingham, re-
publican congressman 1855–63 and 1865–73, and
minister to Japan since 1873; David K. Cartter,
democratic congressman 1849–53, minister to
Bolivia 1861–2, and since 1863 chief justice of
the District of Columbia; S. F. Cary, republican
congressman 1867–9, democratic candidate for
lieutenant governor in 1875, and greenback candi-
date for vice-president in 1876; Thomas Corwin,
whig congressman 1831–40, governor 1840–42,
United States senator 1845–50, secretary of the
treasury under Fillmore 1850–53, republican con-
gressman 1859–61, and minister to Mexico 1861–4;
Jacob D. Cox, major general of volunteers,
governor 1866–8, secretary of the interior under
Grant 1869–70, and republican congressman
1877–9; Samuel S. Cox, democratic congressman
1857–65, and democratic congressman from New
York 1869–85; Columbus Delano, whig congress-
man 1845–7, republican congressman 1865–9, and
secretary of the interior 1870–75; Thomas Ewing,
whig United States senator 1831–7 and 1850–51,
Secretary of the treasury under Harrison 1841,
and of the interior under Taylor 1849–50; Thomas
Ewing (son of the preceding), democratic con-
gressman 1877–9; Joshua R. Giddings, anti-slavery
whig and free-soil congressman 1838–59, and
consul general of Canada 1861–4; Walter Q.
Gresham, postmaster general in 1883; Wm. S.
Groesbeck, democratic congressman 1857–9;
Joseph W. Keifer, republican congressman
1877–85, and speaker 1881–3; William Lawrence,
republican congressman 1865–71 and 1873–7;
Stanley Matthews, republican United States sena-
tor 1877–9, and justice of the United States su-
preme court since 1881; John A. McMahon, demo-
cratic congressman 1875–83; Return J. Meigs,
democratic United States senator 1809–10, gov-
ernor 1810–14, and postmaster general 1814–23 (see
ADMINISTRATIONs); Thomas Morris, state chief
justice 1830–33, and democratic United States sena-
tor 1833–9; George E. Pugh, Douglas democratic
United States senator 1855–61; Milton Sayler,
democratic congressman 1873–83; Robert C.
Schenck, whig congressman 1848–51, minister to
Brazil 1851–3, major general of volunteers 1861–3,
republican congressman 1863–71, and minister to
Great Britain 1871–6; Wilson Shannon, demo-
cratic governor 1838–40 and 1842–4, minister to
Mexico 1844–5, congressman 1853–5, and governor
of Kansas 1855–6; Samuel Shellabarger, repub-
lican congressman 1861–3, 1865–9 and 1871–3;
Noah H. Swayne, justice of the United States
supreme court 1861–81 ; Edward Tiffin, first
governor of the state, and United States senator
1807–9; Amos Townsend, republican congress-
man 1877–83; and Clement L. Wallandigham, dem-
ocratic congressman 1858–63. — See authorities.
under ORDINANCE OF 1787 for the territorial
history; 2 Poore's Federal and State Constitutions;
Chase's Statutes of Ohio; Schuckers' Life of S. P.
Chase, Moris' Life of Thomas Morris; Taylor's
History of Ohio; Atwater's History of Ohio;
Mitchener's Annals of Ohio; Way's Toledo War;
Carpenter's History of Ohio; Studer's History of
Columbus, O.; Reid’s Ohio in the War (the elec-
tion of 1863 is at 1: 153); Report of Secretary of
State, 1873 (for governors); 2 Stat. at Large, 58,
173, 201 (for acts of May 7, 1800, April 30, 1802,
and Feb. 19, 1803). ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
OLIGARCHY. The rule of a few. Aristotle,
after enumerating the governments which he
calls governments in the general interest, mon-
archy, aristocracy and the republic, treats of gov-
ernments in the interest of individuals, tyranny,
oligarchy and democracy (see OCHLOCRACY), which
seem to him the corruption of the first three.
“Hobbes,” says Barthélemy St. Hilaire, “has
justly remarked (Imperium, vii., 3), that ‘ these
three second denominations are all hated and de-
spised, but that they do not designate governments
of different principles; this is precisely what Aris-
totle understood when he employed the word
corruption.’”—“Oligarchy,” says Aristotle, “is
the political predominance of the rich, and democ-
28
OPPOSITION.
racy, the political predominance of the poor to
the exclusion of the rich.” To the objection: but
what if the rich be the more numerous and gov-
ern, or if the poor be the less numerous and gov-
ern? he replies, that the rule of the minority in
democracies and that of the majority in oligar-
chies are wholly accidental, because the rich every-
where constitute the minority, and the poor every-
where the majority. “The two parties,” con-
tinues impartial Aristotle, “claim exclusively each
for itself the right to make the law, and, indeed,
this right belongs to both of them up to a certain
point, but this right is not absolute in the one or
the other. On the One hand, superior in a single
point, in wealth, for instance, they think them-
selves superior in all ; on the other hand, equal
in one point, in liberty, for instance, they think
themselves absolutely equal ; the main object is
forgotten on both sides. If political association
was a commercial association for the purpose of
gain, the share of the associated in the state would
be in direct proportion to their investment, and
the partisans of oligarchy would be in the right;
but the object of political association is not only
the existence of the associated, but their happi-
ness, the well-being of families and of the differ-
ent classes of the people. Those who bring the
most (by their talents) to the general fund of the
association, have a greater share in the state than
those who, equal or superior in point of liberty or
birth, have, notwithstanding, less political virtue;
a greater share than those who, superior in wealth,
are inferior in merit.” To whom, then, should
sovereignty belong? To the multitude, to the
wealthy, to the good, to a single individual of
superior talents, to a tyrant? “Neither to these
nor to others,” says Aristotle, “but to the law.”
And if one of the elements of the political body
must be preferred, Aristotle would incline in favor
of the multitude, for the reason that, if each in-
dividually errs in judgment, in the aggregate all
judge well. (Book iii.) But the government
which seems to him to best assure the reign of the
law is the republic (IToàzz &ia) which borrows its
principles from oligarchy and democracy. If he
had been asked how the alliance of these two
governments, which he calls corrupt, could give
birth to the best of all governments, he would
doubtless have answered that they were only bad
because they were exclusive, and that political
wisdom should be the reconciliation of these two
elements. – Aristotle enumerates four kinds of
oligarchy. (Book vi.) In the first, the magis-
tracy and the legislative power are accessible to
citizens paying a rather large amount of taxes.
In the Second, the amount of taxes is consider-
able, and the body of the magistrates is self-re-
cruiting. In the third, public offices are heredi-
tary.
character of public offices, the sovereignty of the
magistrates takes the place of the reign of the
law. The first of these oligarchies is very near
akin to aristocracy or democracy; the last is “a
dynasty or government of force, the most detest-
In the fourth, besides this hereditary
able of all.” Oligarchies may maintain them-
selves by ministering to the material well-being
of the people and to their artistic wants, a capital
consideration in the time of Aristotle. (Book
vii.) But as avarice is the vice peculiar to oli-
garchies, (this is also Plato's opinion), their gov-
ernment, together with tyranny, is the least stable
of all. The rivalry of the powerful, their mis-
conduct, their acts of violence, the creation of
another oligarchy in the bosom of the first, the
ambition of some who begin to flatter the people,
the influence of mercenary troops, all these are so
many causes of ruin. Lastly, that which injures
them most is, “that they deceive the lower
classes.” (Book vi., 3.) They should, above all,
refrain from taking such oaths, he says, as they
take to-day in some states: “I will always be the
enemy of the people, and I will do them all the
harm I can.” (Book vii., 7.) — We have quoted
these passages from Aristotle, because they throw
light upon the social state of antiquity, and be-
cause they serve to show the difference between
ancient and modern politics. Thus, the moderns
are nearer the etymology of the word than Aris-
totle himself, when they call oligarchy the gov-
ernment of a small number, without alluding to
the wealthy, to the people, to good men, or to
virtue. In many states a minority, all powerful
through terror, constitutes an oligarchy in an
assembly democratically elected. The oligarchy
of the council of ten, at Venice, was a concentra-
tion of the aristocracy; but that of the ephors at
Sparta and that of the tribunes at Rome served as
a counterpoise to the authority of the Senate. An
oligarchy may succeed abruptly to a monarchic
or popular government. Modern revolutions have
put in power, under the form of oligarchy, dicta-
tors elected by the people, or by a fraction of the
people, and governing in its name or their own,
but always opposed to aristocracies. – The oli-
garchic government of the ancients was rarely
met with except in small states, in free cities, a
most favorable theatre for such a concentration of
collective power. This is also the case in modern
times, not only in what have been called “free
cities,” but in other states. Oligarchy is wont to
be established in a great nation, when, on account
of an insurrection or a war, it is for the time
being reduced to the condition of the ancient
city. JACQUES DE BOISJOSLIN.
OLMSTEAD CASE. (See PENNSYLVANIA.)
OMNIBUS BILL. (See PARLIAMENTARY
LAW.)
OPINION, Public. (See PUBLIC OPINION.)
OPPOSITION. The word opposition, in poli-
tics, has two distinct meanings. Properly, it is
the resistance which dissenting parties offer to
the acts of the government, because their interests
or opinions are at variance with such acts. It is
also used to designate the parties from which this
OPPOSITION.
29
resistance proceeds. These parties may vary ad
$nfinitum in point of numbers, intelligence and
power; but they always constitute the opposi-
tion. An individual citizen also may resist the
government, but even if he were an insurgent
satrap he would be only an opponent, not the
opposition. — Opposition may exist elsewhere than
in the political field. Religious opinions and
even religions may engage in a struggle with each
other. The dissenting parties resist and sometimes
overthrow the established authority. The strug-
gles of Christianity against Polytheism, of Protest-
antism against Catholicism, and of the philosophic
spirit against the principle of authority, are so
many examples of opposition awakened in the
moral world, and which have reacted most pow-
erfully upon politics. True, religious and philo-
sophical oppositions differ from those purely po-
litical by the very nature of the metaphysical
problems from which they spring: the destiny of
man, the relations between God and the world,
the government of things here below by provi-
dence. The religious struggle is carried on
ardently, passionately, but with little noise; the
new belief employs no arms except those of per-
Suasion. Ideas are elaborated in the seclusion of
the study, and are propagated slowly, progres-
sively, in men's consciences. Political opposition
has quite another field. It inflames the crowd in
the cause of interests less sacred, doubtless, but
not unimportant, and produces more immediate
agitation. It is the only form for which cus-
tom has reserved the name of opposition, and the
only one with which we have to do here. — The
existence of a party of opposition always Sup-
poses a certain degree of liberty and of the right
of investigation. A despotic government admits
of no opposition, and no argument. It can only
be resisted by force, and it has no alternative but
to conquer or to perish, like the Roman emperors
whom triumphant revolt dragged down the steps
of the Aventine Hill leading to the Tiber. —
Where there exists an infallible authority, or
what pretends to be such, opposition has no
Taison d’être and is not tolerated. Just as relig-
ions allow no contradiction of their dogmas,
theocracies and governments by divine right,
which attribute to themselves a part of their in-
fallibility, exclude all opposition. It is therefore
only in free governments, in which man’s activity
has free play, in which his faculties are developed
without hindrance, and in which his reason has
sovereign command, that opposition can find a
place, not by toleration, but as a right. Opposi-
tion is born of a diversity of opinions, which can
be reduced to unity by no art or science, however
great the effort. It answers to the divergence of
interests, the rivalry and struggles of which are
at the bottom of all questions, and form the warp
and woof of history. Parties are formed, struggle,
and contend with one another for influence and
the control of the government. Doubtless a great
many petty rivalries, a great many questions of
persons and egotistical ambitions, enter into their
disputes. But we must contemplate these strug-
gles from a higher plane and as a whole; great
principles are engaged in them and govern them.
The eternal problem of human affairs is forever
reappearing in them under one of its myriad
forms; in the fierce battles which he wages, it is
to ideas that man devotes himself; and his honor
is to die for them. Let us take as an example the
glorious, little, agitated and turbulent republics of
Greece. A question of principle, of sovereignty,
divided them, such as: “Shall the aristocracy or
the democracy rule? Sparta or Athens?” And
the struggle was carried on not only in states and
cities; in every city the two parties were arrayed
against each other, the one in power, the other
constituting the opposition. What vicissitudes
in the life of these parties so changeable, so
quickly organized and so quickly dissolved; one *
day in possession of favor and success, of popu-
larity and of the votes of the multitude, the next
forsaken, annihilated; in turn and almost without
interval, conquerors and conquered! — In modern
society the right of discussion, and consequently
of opposition, is the very soul of representative
government. This right applies not only to the
making of the laws and the voting of taxes, in
which the people take part through their repre-
sentatives, but to all the parts of legislation, and
to all public services. Opposition may even go
beyond this, and attack the government and its
principle. The ideal of representative govern-
ment does not allow this sort of radical opposi-
tion. It is necessary that there should be, beyond
all reach of discussion, a stable, fixed point,
and a principle which can not be contested. In
the moral world, as in the physical, motion Sup-
poses an immovable point. The constitution,
whose object is the conservation of the state as
a political body, may indeed, be criticised, but
it can not allow itself to be denied or its prin-
ciple to be overthrown. All opposition, there-
fore, is outside the law from the moment that it
denies the political pact and seeks not the control
of the government but its destruction. Hence,
even in the very countries in which political com-
motions are most frequent, and in which power
is oftenest shaken by revolution, we see that each
government tries to put its principle at least be-
yond the reach of the storm, and puts the consti-
tution under the safeguard of an oath. The
reason is, that, wherever the constitution is called
in question, normal political life has ceased to
exist, and revolution has taken its place. —Eng-
land is a country which affords the world the
grand spectacle of a government whose prin-
ciple is accepted by all. This principle is the
fixed, immovable point to which we referred
above, the light-house whose foundation is beaten
by the billows, but whose summit towers serenely
above the storm. In such a country the opposi-
tion bears only on the direction of public affairs,
on questions of influence and of persons. We
need not inquire by what vicissitudes England
had to pass to reach this condition of calm and of
30
ORDINANCE OF 1787.
union. — What combination of circumstances is
necessary, in order that hostile parties may be.
come extinguished or abdicate 2 How long may
their opposition last 2 It is plain that in the
infinite variety of human affairs, no fixed rules
can be laid down here. — The old Greek theogony
represents discord and friendship in the midst of
the elements, co-operating in the work of the gods.
The one divides the forces of nature, the other
restores them to unity, and the two together pro-
duce the general harmony of the universe. Op-
position, like discord, doubtless has its part to
play in the harmony of the life of nations. “Ev-
ery force in nature is despotic, as is all will in
man. A single plant would soon cover the earth,
by reproduction, if the other plants allowed it
free course.” (Rivarol.) Opposition is an ob-
stacle in the way of invading forces, and keeps
them within their just limits. It obliges power
to keep an attentive watch over its own acts, and,
if we may take a witticism for an axiom, we
would be obliged to admit even that it is the
Safeguard of power; since we can lean only upon
that which offers resistance. — In a regular repre-
sentative government the opposition is always the
minority.
ous and powerful, it assumes control of affairs,
and finds the other party arrayed against it as the
opposition. The opposition may be weak, or it
may be strong; it may be homogeneous, or be
composed of discordant and contradictory ele-
ments, united only for the needs of the struggle;
in this case it constitutes a coalition. Oppositions
usually have a marvelous aptitude for self-disci-
pline; every opposition has a tendency to provide
itself with leaders and to become systematic;
that is, not to confine itself to criticism of isolated
acts of the government, but to condemn them and
combat them em masse. — In divided countries in
which the governing power is not universally
accepted, it is rarely the opposition which precip-
itates revolutions; it prepares the way for them.
Most frequently at the last moment it recoils
before its own work. It confines itself to paving
the road, to preparing the arena into which politi-
cal parties are about to enter, and in which the
forces of insurrection or of the government are to
decide the fate of the state. We are not, how-
ever, without examples of oppositions which, vic-
torious and sustained by the people, have suc-
ceeded in forcing a constitution upon the govern-
ment, and in accomplishing a peaceful revolution.
—The opposition has more than one advantage
Over the government party. In the first place,
the part it has to play is less difficult: criticism is
easy, while art is difficult. The opposition which
criticises is not, like the government party, respon-
sible for its acts; its work is collective, and there-
fore impersonal. Moreover, as the public think
that it is more honorable to attack power than to
flatter it, and do not see that under many circum-
stances it requires more courage to defend it than
to combat it, the opposition easily obtains the
favor of popularity. This popularity sometimes
As soon as it becomes the more numer-
deludes the minds of even well intentioned men,
who allow themselves to believe that the opposi-
tion is necessarily in advance of the government,
that it is a means and a condition of progress.
This is sometimes the case, but not always. The
Opposition may be more enlightened and liberal
than the party in power; but it may be less so.
Reason and truth are no more the exclusive attri-
butes of the governed than of the governing.
Hence it can not be said absolutely that the oppo-
sition holds in its hands the future of civilization
and the destinies of the world. Nevertheless,
experience shows that governments, save in ex-
ceptional cases which are always rare, in which
the head of the state is a man of genius, incline
more frequently to immobility than to progress,
and generally oppose the force of inertia to the
most necessary reforms. The impulse must then
come from without, and the motive power is the
opposition. — The work of oppositions thus par-
takes both of good and evil. But they number in
their history pages of incomparable brilliancy.
Posterity should not forget that in the ranks of
the opposition there have been found united,
courage and virtue; that they have called forth
the noblest bursts of patriotism and the sublimest
accents of eloquence ; that great characters have
been formed in them; that generous hearts have
fought with them, and with them devoted them-
selves to humanity. What matters it after this
that all the causes favored by oppositions have not
triumphed ? Doubtless, by the side of oppositions
inspired by great principles, we find others petty,
mean and retrogressive. Some have marked their
passage by fertile ideas; others have by degrees
become weakened and finally dropped into silence
and forgetfulness. In the work of man error is
ephemeral. Truth survives. We must credit
opposition, the daughter of free investigation,
with its truths, and pardon its errors. (Compare
PARTIES, POLITICAL.) EMILE CHäDIEU.
ORDER OF THE DAY. (See PARLIAMENT-
ARY L.A.W.) -
ORDERS IN COUNCIL. (See EMBARGo, in
U. S. History.)
ORDERS, Religious. (See CONGREGATIONS.)
ORDINANCE OF 1787 (IN U. S. HISTORY).
The organic law under which took place the or-
ganization of the territory west of Pennsylvania,
east of the Mississippi, and north of the Ohio. —
The acquisition of the “northwest territory” by
the United States is elsewhere given. (See TER-
RITORIES.) After the completion of the Virginia
cession, Jefferson, as chairman of a committee of
three on the subject, reported to the congress of the
confederation a plan for the temporary govern.
ment of the western territory. As the conflicting
claims of the partisans of Jefferson, Rufus King
and Nathan Dane are apt to confuse the reader, it
seems best to give the peculiar features of Jeffer-
ORDINANCE OF 1787.
31
son's report, which was adopted April 23, 1784.
1. It covered the whole western territory, ceded
or to be ceded, south as well as north of the Ohio.
2. Seventeen states, each two degrees in length
from north to south, were to be gradually formed
from it; one between Pennsylvania and a north
and south line through the mouth of the Great
Kanawha; eight in a north and south tier, bounded
on the west by a north and south line through the
great falls of the Ohio; and the remaining eight
in a corresponding tier bounded west by the Mis-
sissippi. Even the names were to have been pro-
vided for the prospective states of the northwest,
including such singular designations as Cherso-
nesus, Sylvania, Assemisipia, Metropotamia, Poly-
potamia and Pelisipia, together with the less
remarkable titles of Saratoga, Washington, Mich-
igania and Illinoia. 3. “After the year 1800
there shall be neither slavery nor involuntary
servitude in any of the said states other than in
the punishment of crimes, whereof the party shall
have been duly convicted.” This prohibition,
therefore, was to have been prospective, not im-
mediate, and to have applied to all new states
from the gulf of Mexico to British America.
This proviso was voted on, April 19. New Hamp-
shire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut,
New York and Pennsylvania voted for it; Mary-
land, Virginia and South Carolina, against it;
North Carolina was divided; and New Jersey,
Delaware and Georgia were unrepresented. Not
having seven states in favor, the proviso was lost.
Delaware and Georgia were entirely unrepre-
sented; New Jersey had one delegate present, who
voted for the proviso, but a state was not “repre-
sented” except by at least two delegates. The
language of the proviso, however, became a model
for every subsequent restriction upon slavery.
(See COMPROMISEs, IV. ; WILMOT PROVISO; Con-
STITUTION, Amendment XIII.) 4. The states
were forever to be a part of the United States, to
be subject to the government of the United States,
and to the articles of confederation, and to have
republican governments. 5. The whole was to
be a charter of compact and fundamental consti-
tutions between the new states and the thirteen
original states, unalterable but by joint consent of
congress and the state in which an alteration
should be proposed to be made. With the adop-
tion of the report, except the anti-slavery section,
Jefferson’s connection with the work ceased. He
entered the diplomatic service in the following
month, and remained abroad' until October, 1789.
— March 16, 1785, Rufus King, of Massachusetts,
afterward of New York, offered a resolution that
slavery in the whole western territory be immedi-
ately prohibited. The language is Jefferson's, ex-
cluding the words “after the year 1800,” and
changing “duly convicted ” into “personally
guilty.” By a vote of eight states to three this
was committed, and a favorable report was made,
April 14 (probably); but it was never acted upon. —
In September, 1786, congress again began to con-
sider the government of the territory, and a com-
mittee, of which Nathan Dane, of Massachusetts,
was chairman, framed the “ordinance of 1787,”
which was finally adopted, July 13, 1787. The
fairest view is that Jefferson's report was the frame-
work on which the ordinance was built: the gen-
eral scheme was that of the former, but the provis-
ions were amplified, and the following changes
and new provisions were made: 1. The prohibi-
tion of slavery followed Jefferson’s, excluding the
words “after the year 1800,” thus making it im-
mediate, and adding a fugitive slave clause. (See
SLAVERY, W.) This article, says Dane, in a letter
of July 16, 1787, to King, “I had no idea the
states would agree to, and therefore omitted it in
the draft; but, finding the house favorably dis-
posed on this subject, after we had completed the
other parts, Imoved the article, which was agreed
to without opposition.” 2. On the other hand,
as this was an ordinance for the government only
of the territory northwest of the Ohio, its prohi-
bition of slavery was territorially only about half
as large as Jefferson's; and this may help to ex-
plain the different fates of the two. A further
explanation of the passage of Dane's ordinance,
even with a prohibition of slavery, has recently
been brought to light by Mr. W. F. Poole (see
“North American Review,” among the authori-
ties): in 1787 Dr. Manasseh Cutler, agent of the
Ohio land company in Massachusetts, was ready to
purchase 5,000,000 acres of land in Ohio if it
should be organized as a free territory, and his
judicious presentation of this fact to congress had
a powerful influence upon the result. 3. Arti-
cle III., and the conclusion of article IV., guar-
anteeing the freedom of navigation of the Missis-
sippi and St. Lawrence, were new, and seem to
have been due to Timothy Pickering, of Massa-
chusetts. – The ordinance proper began by secur-
ing to the inhabitants of the territory the equal
division of real and personal property of intestates
to the next of kin in equal degree; and the power
to devise and convey property of every kind. Con-
gress was to appoint the governor, the secretary,
the three judges, and the militia generals; and
the governor was to make other appointments
until the organization of a general assembly. The
governor and judges were to adopt such state laws
as they saw fit, unless disapproved by congress,
until there should be 5,000 “free male inhabitants
of full age * in the district: a curious slip, consid-
ering the prohibition of any other than “free”
inhabitants. On attaining this population the
territory was to have a general assembly of its
own, consisting of the governor, a house of rep-
resentatives of one to every 500 free male inhab-
itants, and a legislative council of five to be
selected by congress from ten nominations by the
lower house, and to serve for five years. The as-
sembly was to choose a delegate to sit, but not
to vote, in congress; and was to pass laws for the
government of the territory, not repugnant to the
principles of the following “articles of compact
between the original states and the people and states
in the said territory,” which were to “forever
32
oRDINANCE OF 1787.
remain unalterable, unless by common consent.”
I. No peaceable and orderly person was ever to
be molested on account of his mode of worship
or religious sentiments. II. The people were
always to enjoy the benefits of the writ of habeas
corpus, trial by jury, proportionate representation
in the legislature, bail (except for capital offenses,
in cases of evident proof and strong presumption),
moderate fines and punishments, and the preser-
vation of liberty, property and private contracts.
III. Schools and the means of education were
forever to be encouraged; and good faith was to
be observed toward the Indians. IV. The terri-
tory, and the states formed therein, were forever
to be a part of “this confederacy of the United
Sales,” subject to the articles of confederation,
and to the authority of congress under them.
They were never to interfere with the disposal of
the soil by the United States, or to tax the lands
belonging to the United States; and the naviga-
tion of the Mississippi and St. Lawrence was to
be free to every citizen of the United States,
“without any tax, impost or duty therefor.”
W. Not less than three nor more than five states
were to be formed in the territory. The bound-
aries of three of these, the “western, middle
and eastern '' states, [subsequently Illinois, Indi.
ana, and Ohio, respectively], were roughly marked
out, very nearly as they stand at present; and con-
gress was empowered to form two states [Michigan
and Wisconsin] north of an east and west line
through the southern end of Lake Michigan.
Whenever any of these divisions should contain
60,000 inhabitants it was to be at liberty to form
a state government, republican in form and in
conformity with these articles; and was then to
be admitted to the Union ‘‘ on an equal footing
with the original states, in all respects whatso-
ever.” WI. “There shall be neither slavery nor
involuntary servitude in the said territory, other-
wise than in the punishment of crimes whereof
the party shall have been duly convicted: pro-
vided always, that any person escaping into the
same, from whom labor or service is lawfully
claimed in any one of the original states, such
fugitive may be lawfully reclaimed and conveyed
to the person claiming his or her labor or service
as aforesaid.” This proviso was the first instance
of a fugitive slave law; it was afterward added
to the constitution. (See COMPROMISES, III.;
FUGITIVE SLAVE LAws; SLAVERY, W.)—The gen-
eral scheme of the ordinance, with the exception
of the prohibition of slavery, was the model upon
which the territories of the United States were
thereafter organized. (See TERRITORIES.) Upon
the inauguration of the new government under
the constitution an act was passed, Aug. 7, 1789,
recognizing and confirming the ordinance, but
modifying it slightly so as to conformit to the new
powers of the president and senate. When the ter-
ritory south of the Ohio came to be organized, the
organization was controlled by the stipulation of
the ceding states that slavery should not be pro-
hibited; and in the case of other territories the
language often differed widely from that of the
ordinance of 1787; but in all cases the underlying
principles have been identical, so that the ordi.
nance might be called the magma charta of the
territories. The difference in statemanship be-
tween the British and the American methods of
dealing with problems closely similar is elsewhere
noted. (See REVOLUTION, I. ; TERRITORIES, I.)
— In the organization of the five states which
have been formed under the ordinance, the priv-
ileges secured by it to the inhabitants of the terri-
tory have been imbedded in the state constitu-
tions, usually in the preliminary bill of rights.
In Indiana, in 1802, a convention, presided over
by Wm. H. Harrison, sent a memorial to congress,
asking a temporary suspension of the sixth article;
but a select committee, John Randolph being
chairman, reported that such action would be
highly dangerous and inexpedient. In 1805–7
successive resolutions of Gov. Harrison and the
territorial legislature to the same end were fol-
lowed in each year by favorable reports from the
committees to which they were referred; but con-
gress took no action. In the summer of 1807 the
effort was again renewed; but the new committee
reported, Nov. 13, 1807, that a suspension of the
article was not expedient. By this time opposition
to the suspension was growing stronger in the ter-
ritory itself, so that the attempt was not renewed.
But the legislature, the same year, passed laws
allowing owners of slaves to bring them into the
territory, register them, and hold them to service,
those under fifteen years to be held until thirty-
five for males and thirty-two for females, and
those over fifteen for a term of years to be con-
tracted for by the owner and the negro. In the
latter case, if the negro refused to contract, he
was to be removed whence he came; and in both
cases the children of registered servants were to
be held to service until the ages of thirty for males
and twenty-eight for females. Illinois, being
then a part of Indiana territory, lived under these
laws until her admission as a state, in 1818, when
she enacted in her constitution that “existing
contracts” should be valid. In this way slavery
remained practically in force all over Illinois, and
the pro-slavery party controlled the state. In
1822 an anti-slavery man was elected governor, by
divisions in the pro-slavery ranks, and in his
inaugural he reminded the pro-slavery legislature
of the illegal existence of slavery in Illinois.
That body retorted by an act to call a convention
to frame a new constitution. The act had to be
approved by popular vote, and, after a contest
lasting through 1823–4, was defeated by a vote of
6,822 to 4,950. In both states provisions forbid-
ding future contracts for service, made out of the
state, or for more than one year, gradually re-
moved this disguised slavery. — The preambles to
the constitutions of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois all
recite that the prospective state “has the right of
admission to the Union ” in accordance with the
constitution, the ordinance of 1787, and the ena-
bling act. In the case of Michigan congress long
ORDINANCE OF 1787
33
neglected to pass an enabling act; the people of
the territory, therefore, resting on the fifth article
of the ordinance, and claiming that the only con-
dition precedent to admission (the increase of the
population to 60,000) had been fulfilled, formed a
constitution, and were admitted without an ena-
bling act. (See M1CHIGAN.) It should also be
noticed that the extreme northwestern part of the
territory, south and west of the head of Lake
Superior, was not finally included in any of the
five states named, but is now a part of Minnesota.
— The second of the articles of confederation de-
clares that each state retains “every power, juris-
diction and right which is not by this confederation
expressly delegated to the United States in con-
gress assembled.” The power to acquire, the
jurisdiction to govern, and the right to retain,
territory outside of the limits of the states, are
nowhere in the articles, even by implication, given
to the United States. Whence, then, did congress
draw the power to vest in itself the title to the
northwest territory, to frame this ordinance for
its government, to abolish slavery therein, and to
provide for the admission to the confederacy of
five new states? The “Federalist ' answers the
question thus briefly: “All this has been done,
and done without the least color of constitutional
authority; yet no blame has been whispered, no
alarm has been sounded.” In other words, we
are to suppose that the states, tempted partly by
a willingness to despoil Virginia of her vast
western claims, and partly by a desire to share in
the proceeds of the western territory as a common
stock, were willing to allow their imbecile con-
gress to appropriate a source of revenue to which
it had no shadow of claim, and which, as it then
seemed, would so increase in a few years as to
make congress independent of the states. Such a
supposition does far less than justice to the acute-
ness of the state politicians who were then the
controlling class; they would have been glad to
withhold the power to govern the territories from
congress, and yet how were they to avoid grant-
ing it 2 The reason for their “whispering no
blame, Sounding no alarm,” lay in the patent ne-
cessity of the case, in the political law which
finally forces a recognition under any form of
government, that it is only in non-essentials that
a limitation on Sovereignty can be deduced by
implication, and that there are certain essential
attributes of Sovereignty which can only be re-
stricted in express terms. (See also Hamilton’s
argument in BANK CONTROVERSIES, II.) The
right to acquire property is as much the natural
right of a government, however limited, as of an
individual; and a government, if restricted so far
as to be denied this right, is either non-existent
or impotent.
in this case, compelled the states to allow a vio-
lation of the articles of confederation ; it is rather
true that circumstances, in this case, compelled
the state politicians to respect the natural rights
of the national government, which, in so many
other cases, they had attempted to limit by the
122 VOL. III. — 3
It is not true that circumstances,
general phrases of the second article. (See NA-
TION.) We are therefore to take the sovereign
right to acquire territory as the justification of the
ordinance of 1787, just as in the case of the
annexation of Louisiana, which was equally un-
authorized by the constitution. (See CoNSTITU-
TION, III., B, 2.) — Undoubtedly the greatest ben-
efit of the ordinance to the territory which it cov-
ered was its exclusion of slavery from it. It thus
received the full sweep of that stream of immi-
gration, foreign and domestic, which so carefully
avoided slave soil; the strictness with which this
westward stream confined itself to the compara-
tively narrow channel bounded by the lakes and
the Ohio, is of itself a testimony to the wisdom of
the sixth article. Beyond this, however, there
were countless other benefits. The enumeration
of the natural rights of the individual was a polit-
ical education for the people of the new territory,
as well as a chart for the organization of the new
state governments. The stipulations for the en-
couragement of education, though too indefinite
to be binding, have exerted an enormous influence
upon the demands of the people and upon the
policy of the legislatures. This whole section
was thus, from the beginning, the theatre of a
conscious and persistent attempt to combine uni-
versal suffrage and universal education, each for
the sake of the other; and the success of the
attempt, though still far from complete, has al-
ready gone far beyond any possible conception of
its projectors. Most important of all, from a po-
litical point of view, the ordinance was the first
conscious movement of the American mind
toward the universal application of the federal
principle of state government to the continent.
The original states owed their formal individuality
to accident or the will of the king ; the inchoate
states of Vermont, Kentucky and Tennessee were
the accidents of accidents; here, in the north-
west territory, the nation first consciously chose
the state system for its future development. (See
NATION, III.) — Major General Arthur St. Clair,
a delegate from Pennsylvania, and president of
congress during the adoption of the Ordinance,
was the first governor of the territory, 1788–1802.
His biography, cited below, is the best exposition
of the practical workings of the ordinance. When
the portion of the northwest territory outside of
Ohio was organized as Indiana territory (see that
state), William H. Harrison became its governor,
1800–11, and was succeeded by John Gibson,
1811–13, and Thomas Posey, 1813–16, until Indi
ana became a state. When the separate territory
of Illinois was organized (see that state), Ninian
Edwards became its governor, 1809–18. Michi-
gan, as a territory, had as governors William
Hull 1805–13, Lewis Cass 1813–31, Geo. B. Por-
ter 1831–4, and Stevens T. Mason 1834–5. When
Wisconsin was separated from Michigan as a ter-
ritory, its governors were Henry Dodge, 1836–41
and 1845–8, James D. Doty 1841–4, and N. P.
Tallmadge 1844–5. The small remainder of the
territory, after the admission of Wisconsin as a
34
OREGON.
state (see WISCONSIN ; MINNESOTA), was added to
Minnesota. — For the cessions of the various states
which went to make up the northwest territory,
see TERRITORIES. — The text of the ordinance is
in 1 Poore's Federal and State Constitutions, 7; 1
Stat. at Large (Bioren and Duane's edition), 475;
Duer's Constitutional Jurisprudence, 512; An-
drews’ Manual of the Constitution, App. xiii.;
see also North American Review, April, 1876;
Hildreth's Pioneer History, 193 (Ohio Company);
Taylor's History of Ohio, 493; 1 Bancroft's Forma-
tion of the Constitution, 177, and 2: 98; H. B. Ad-
ams' Maryland's Influence in Founding a National
Commonwealth, Coles’ History of the Ordinance of
1787 (read before the Penn. Hist. Soc., June 9,
1856); 4 Journals of Congress, 373, 379; 3 Hil-
dreth’s United States, 449; 1 von Holst's United
States, 286; 1 McMaster's History of the American
People, 505; 1 Schouler's United States, 98 ; 2 Pit-
kin's United States, 210; 1 Curtis' History of the
Constitution, 291; 1 Draper's Civil War, 180; 1
Wilson's Rise and Fall of the Slave Power, 31; I
Greeley’s American Conflict, 38; 2 Holmes'Annals,
354; 1 Stat. at Large, 50 (act of Aug. 7, 1789);
Smith's Life of St. Clair; Burnet's Settlement of
the Northwest Territory; Washburne's Sketch of
Edward Coles; Story's Commentaries, § 1310 ;
The Federalist, xxviii. (by Madison); and author-
ities under articles referred to. For Jefferson’s
claims to the authorship of the ordinance, see 1
Benton’s Thirty Years’ View, 133; 1 Randall’s
Life of Jefferson, 397; for Dane's, see 3 Webster's
Works, 397; for Dane's, King's and Pickering's,
see 2 Spencer's United States, 202; Pickering's
Life of Pickering. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
OREGON, a state of the American Union.
It was claimed to have been rightfully a part of
the Louisiana purchase, as its western boundary
was defined in 1819 by the Florida treaty (see
ANNEXATIONS, I., II.), and it was evidently un-
der this claim that Lewis and Clarke first explored
it in 1804–6, by direction of President Jefferson.
The conflicting claims are elsewhere given. (See
NoRTHWEST BOUNDARY.) The people of Oregon,
without waiting for action by congress, formed a
provisional government in 1843. After several
failures to pass an act for the organization of the
territory (see WILMOT PROVISO), an act for that
purpose became law, Aug. 14, 1848. It covered
all the territory of the United States west of the
Rocky mountains and north of latitude 42° north
(see WASHINGTON TERRITORY), and prohibited
slavery by putting in force the provisions of the
Ordinance of 1787. No enabling act was passed
by Congress, but a state convention at Salem,
Aug. 17–Sept. 18, 1857, under authority of the
territorial legislature, adopted a state constitution.
Under this the state was admitted Feb. 14, 1859.
—BOUNDARIES. The boundaries fixed by the act
of admission were as follows: on the north, the
Columbia river and latitude 46° north ; on the
east, the Snake river from latitude 46° north to
its junction with the Owyhee, and thence directly
south to latitude 42° ; on the south, latitude 42°;
and on the west the Pacific Ocean. These differed
from those claimed by the state constitution in
only one respect: the latter took as a northern
boundary the Columbia and Snake rivers, thus
including the territory between latitude 46° and
the Snake river, which congress preferred to
assign to Washington territory.— CONSTITUTION.
The first constitution is still in force. It restricted
suffrage to whites, on six months’ residence and
one year's declaration of intention to become a
citizen; authorized the legislature to prohibit the
immigration of persons not qualified to become
citizens of the United States; provided for a leg-
islature of two houses, the Senate to consist of
sixteen members, chosen by districts for four
years, and the house of representatives of thirty-
four members, chosen by districts ſur twu years,
forbade the passage of special or local laws in a
number of specified cases; gave the governor a
term of four years, and made him eligible not
more than eight in twelve years; provided that
he should be chosen by popular vote, or, in de-
fault of a popular majority, by a joint vote of
the legislature; forbade the legislature to charter
any bank, to subscribe to the stock of any com-
pany, or to charter any corporation otherwise
than by general law ; and ordered the state capi-
tal to be fixed by popular vote. Two other ques-
tions were submitted to popular vote, with the
following result: by a vote of 7,727 to 2,645,
slavery was prohibited in the state; and by a vote
of 8,640 to 1,081, free negroes or mulattoes not
then resident in the state were forbidden to
“come, reside or be within this state, or hold any
real estate, or make any contract, or maintain any
suit therein,” and the legislature was authorized
to pass laws for their removal and exclusion, and
for the punishment of persons who should em-
ploy or harbor them. The constitution has not
since been amended in any particular. In 1882
the legislature changed the time of inauguration
of state officers from September to January, so that
the new governor holds from September, 1882,
to Jan. 1, 1887. — GovKRNORS. John Whittaker,
1859–62; Addison C. Gibbs, 1862–6; Geo. L.
Woods, 1866–70; Lafayette S. Grover, 1870–78;
Wm. W. Thayer, 1878–82; Zenas F. Moody,
1882–7. — POLITICAL HISTORY. The long inter-
val between Oregon's adoption of a constitution
and its admission as a state was due mainly to the
“anti-negro clause” of the constitution, which
made republicans in congress very unwilling to
vote for a ratification of the instrument. The
clause was due to the existence of three parties in
the state, one in favor of slavery, a Second Op-
posed to it, and a third opposed to negro immi-
gration. The last two united to prohibit both
slavery and negro immigration; but the first was
sufficiently strong to compel the convention to
submit to the people the question of “slavery or
no slavery.” After the ratification was complete,
and the state admitted, the first and third factions
united against the second, and made Oregon a
ORIENTAL QUESTION.
35
democratic state. The democratic party of the
state had so strong a pro-slavery element in it
that, one of the Oregon Senators, Lane, was the
Breckinridge candidate for the vice-presidency in
1860. In that year the republicans obtained the
electoral vote of the state by a plurality, the pop-
ular vote being as follows: Lincoln, 5,270;
Breckinridge, 5,006; Douglas, 3,951; Bell, 183.
From that time until 1868 the state was repub-
lican in state, congressional and presidential elec-
tions. In 1868 the democrats, by about 1,000
majority, obtained the electoral vote of the state
for Seymour, and elected the congressman and a
majority of both houses of the legislature. Since
that time the parties have alternately been suc-
cessful in the state's biennial elections. In 1870,
1874 and 1878 the democrats carried the state,
electing the governor, congressman, and a ma-
jority of the legislature; in 1872, 1876 and 1880,
the “presidential years,” the republicans Se-
cured the electoral vote of the state, the congreSS-
man, and a majority of the legislature. (See
OREGON, under ELECTORAL COMMISSION.) . In
1883 the legislature is republican by the following
majority : senate, sixteen to fourteen; house,
thirty-nine to twenty-one. — The most prominent
political leaders of the state have been the follow-
ing: Lafayette Grover, democratic congressman
in 1859, governor 1870–77, and United States sen-
ator 1877–83; Joseph Lane (see his name); John
H. Mitchell, republican United States senator
1873–79; and George H. Williams, republican
United States senator 1865–71, and attorney gen-
eral under Grant, 1872–5. — See NORTHWEST
BOUNDARY, and authorities under it; Grover's
Oregon Archives, 1849–53; Dunn's History of Ore-
gon (1844); Tucker's History of Oregon (1844);
Greenhow's History of Oregon (1845); Gray's His-
tory of Oregon (1849); 2 Poore's Federal and
State Constitutions; Tribune Almanac, 1859–83;
Hines’ Oregon and its Institutions (1868); Dufur's
Statistics of Oregon (1869).
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
ORIENTAL QUESTION, The. By this, or
by the equivalent term, Eastern Question, is usu-
ally understood the political complications which
are ever on the point of arising, in the Ottoman
empire, in consequence of the mutual antago-
nism of the Christian and Mussulman populations
which inhabit that country, on the one part, and
of the prevision of the conquest of Turkey by the
Russians, on the other. — The extreme diversity
of the nations occupying the vast territory sub-
ject to the porte, and the bonds, ethnographic or
religious, which unite the greater number of them
to Russia, constantly imperil the integrity of the
Turkish monarchy, and threaten, at any moment,
to cause fresh revolutions in that country, the
consequences of which would be felt immediately
all over Europe; for the possession of Constan-
tinople would give the Czars an increase of power
which would destroy at a blow the foundation on
which the balance of power in Europe rests.
Said Napoleon, in an address to the French sen-
ate, dated Jan. 29, 1807: “Who can calculate the
length of the wars and the number of campaigns
it would be necessary to enter on, some day, to
repair the evils which would result from the loss
of Constantinoplc, if the love of cowardly ease
and the seductions of the great city should pre-
vail ovel the counsels of a wise foresight? We
should leave our posterity a long inheritance
of wars and misfortunes. The Greek cross being
triumphant from the Baltic to the Mediterranean,
we should, in our own day, see our provinces
overrun by a swarm of fanatics and barbarians;
and if in this too tardy struggle civilized Europe
should perish, our guilty indifference would justly
excite the complaints of posterity, and would be
a title of opprobrium to us in history.” Napo-
leon, however, foresaw all the dangers which
threaten the existence of Turkey when he wrote:
“The patriotism of the peoples and the policy
of the courts of Europe would not prevent the
downfall of the Ottoman empire.” — The origin
of these dangers, and of all the political com-
plications connected with the serious problem
called the Eastern or Oriental question, goes back
to the reign of Othman I., who, at the head
of numerous Asiatic hordes, occupied several
provinces of Asia Minor, and thus laid the foun-
dations of an empire which was destined to find
its chief power in the subjection of Greek peo-
ples. The taking of Constantinople during the
reign of the sultan Mohammed II. definitively
marked the establishment of the Turks in Europe,
who thenceforth planned the subjection of the
principal neighboring states and the extermination
of the Christians. – To these religious and ethno-
graphic causes must be added the tendencies of
Russian policy to pursue its work of universal
domination by the conquest of the Ottoman em-
pire. The remarkable testament of Peter I. left
by that prince to his successors, and deposited
among the archives at Peterhof (near St. Peters-
burg), tells what should be and what are the polit-
ical views of Russia in this regard. In this doc-
ument, whose length does not allow its reproduc-
tion here, ºn eastenso, the czar declares that he con-
siders the Russian people called by Providence to
universal domination; that the “Russia which
he had found a rivulet and intended to leave a
'mighty stream, would, under his successors, be-
come a great Sea, destined to fertilize impoverished
Europe, and that its waters would overflow spite of
all the dikes which weakened hands would oppose
to them, if his descendants knew how to direct
their course.” It was to teach the czars, his succes-
sors, how to direct that course, that he thought it
expedient to leave them his counsels or instruc-
tions. After having explained the necessity of cer-
tain conquests which have been accomplished since
his time, he continues: “$ ix. Get just as near as
* Who would write history after civilized Europe had
perished ? We are not so sure that the conquest of Turkey
by Russia would add to the power of the latter.—MAURICE
BLOCK.
36
OSTEND MANIFESTO.
possible to Constantinople and the Indies. The
prince who reigns there will be the real Sovereign of
the world. To this end, excite continual wars now
in Turkey and now in Persia; establish ship
builders’ yards on the Black sea; get control by
degrees of that sea, as well as of the Baltic, two
points necessary for the success of the project ;
hasten the decay of Persia; penetrate as far as the
Persian gulf; restore, if possible, by way of Syria,
the old commerce of the Levant, and advance to
India, which is the great emporium of the world.
Once there, it will be possible to do without Eng-
land's gold. § xi. Induce the house of Austria
to drive the Turk from Europe, and on the occa-
sion of the conquest of Constantinople calm its
jealousy, either by exciting a war between it and
the old states of Europe, or by giving it a part of
the conquest which is subsequently to be taken from
ft. § xii. Attach to and gather about you all the
disunited or schismatic Greeks spread through
Turkey; become their centre and support, and es-
tablish in advance universal predominance by a
species of Sacerdotal royalty or of Sacerdotal su-
premacy: this will give you so many friends
among your enemies.”— It is well known how
religiously this testament has been followed to the
letter, and how consistent the politics of Russia
have been with the doctrine laid down in it. The
Crimean war (1855–6) was the consequence of a
premature endeavor to establish the suzerainty of
the czar, not precisely over Ottoman territory,
but over all subjects of the sultan who belonged
to the Greek church whose pope and head is at
St. Petersburg. The sympathy of the Hellenic
populations with the Russian government be-
trayed itself at that period, and was all the more
keen as there exists among them a profound
hatred for the Ottoman element. The treaty of
Paris, by taking away from Russia the right to
maintain a war fleet in the Black sea, only post-
poned the time when the czar would descend on
Turkey anew. But only a moment was needed
for that stipulation to become illusory. That
moment came in 1870, on the occasion of the
Franco-Prussian war, when Russia asked and ob-
tained in its favor a revision of the treaty of 1856
on this point.*— We shall not try to foresee what
* Russia's ambitious designs found expression again in
the last Russo-Turkish war. The insurrections which took
place in Herzegovina, Servia and Montenegro, in 1876 and
1877, not without being produced by Russian influence,
caused new controversies between Russia and Turkey, after
the latter had refused the guarantees desired by the great
powers for the security of the Christians, in the conference
which met at Constantinople in November, 1876, and which
continued in Session till January, 1877. These controversies
led to a declaration of war by the czar against the porte,
April 24, 1877. This was the fifth Russo-Turkish war. On
March 3, 1878, a treaty of peace, called the peace of San Ste-
fano, was signed, by which the war was ended. But the
congress of Berlin materially changed its provisions in favor
of Turkey. This congress met at Berlin, June 13, 1878, under
the presidency of the German chancellor, Prince Bismarck.
It was called to examine the result of the Russo-Turkish war
(1877-8) created by the peace of San Stefano, and to make it
harmonize with the interests of the other powers, especially
of England and Austria. The result of the transactions and
shall one day be the solution of the Eastern ques-
tion. That problem, which presents itself period-
ically to European cabinets, with new corollaries,
is SO complex that it is unreasonable to predict.
what may be in store in relation to it. The power-
lessness of Turkey in Syria and Lebanon, and the
perpetual antagonism of the Maronite Christians
and the Druses create, in Asia Minor, motives for
the intervention of France and England similar in
character to those which Russia finds for inter-
vention in European Turkey, in which Christians.
of the Greek rite utter incessant complaints against
the Mussulman authorities and claim the protec-
tion of the head of their religion. A percepti-
ble improvement in the internal organization of
the Ottoman crimpire can not be denied. Still it is.
doubtful whether it can early enough make the
progress which it remains for it to make in order
to put itself in a condition to meet the storms.
which sooner or later will break upon it.
LEON DE ROSNY
OSTEND MANIFESTO (IN U. S. HISTORy).
The filibustering expeditions against Cuba (see
FILIBUSTERs) occasioned anxiety in Europe as to
the possible future action of the United States.
government in concealed or open favor of such
expeditions. In 1852 Great Britain and France
jointly proposed to the United States a tripartite.
convention, by which the three powers should dis-
claim all intention to obtain possession of Cuba,
and should discountenance such an attempt by
any power. Dec. 1, 1852, the secretary of state,
Everett, refused to do so, while he declared that
the United States would never question Spain's
title to the island. Everett’s letter has been se-
verely criticised, but it seems justifiable as a refu-
sal to voluntarily and needlessly restrict future
administrations. – Aug. 16, 1854, President Pierce
directed the American ministers to Great Britain,
France and Spain, James Buchanan, John Y. Ma-
son and Pierre Soulé, to meet in some convenient,
city and discuss the Cuban question. They met
at Ostend, Oct. 9, and afterward at Aix la
Chapelle, and drew up the dispatch to their gov-
ernment which is commonly known as the “OS-
tend Manifesto.” It declared, in brief, that the
sale of Cuba would be as advantageous and hon-
orable to Spain as its purchase would be to the
United States; but that, if Spain should obsti-
nately refuse to sell it, self-preservation would
make it incumbent upon the United States to
“wrest it from her,” and prevent it from being
Africanized into a second St. Domingo. — The
Ostend manifesto was denounced in the repub-
deliberations of this congress was the peace of Berlin,
which provided for the independence of Rumania, Servia
and Montenegro, and established two new independent.
states, Bulgaria and Eastern Rumelia. The immediate gain
to Russia by this war was not great considering the Sacrifice
it had made in it. It cost 500,000,000 roubles, and 172,000 men
on the European theatre of the war. On the other hand, the
war greatly increased the influence of Russia, as a great Slavic:
power on the Balkan peninsula, and afforded it an opportu-
nity to interfere in the affairs of that peninsula at any time.
OUTLAWRY.
37
lican platform of 1856, as “the highwayman's
plea that might makes right”; and was not open-
ly defended by the democratic platform of 1856 or
of 1860, except that the latter declared in favor of
the acquisition of Cuba by honorable and just
means, at the earliest practicable moment. — See
3 Spencer's United States, 510; 1 Greeley’s Ameri-
can Conflict, 273; 2 Wilson's Rise and Fall of the
Slave Power, 611; Cairnes’ Slave Power, 145; Clus-
key’s Political Teat Book of 1860, 477 (correspond-
ence and manifesto in full).
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
OUTLAWRY. The declaring one by superior
authority outside of the protection of all law,
was a proceeding not unknown to the Greeks and
Romans, but was inflicted by them when offenses
had been committed against the national religion,
and was more in the nature of ecclesiastical excom-
munications and interdicts such as are found in
some Christian countries. – At common law pro-
cess of outlawry originally lay only in cases of
treason, but was at later periods extended to
minor Offenses and even to civil actions. The
consequences, however, of a judgment in out-
lawry, and the legal steps to obtain it, were very
different in the last mentioned cases. – In Bacon's
Abridgment outlawry is defined as a punishment
inflicted on a person for contempt and contumacy,
in refusing to be amenable to and abide by the
justice of that court which has lawful authority
to call him before it. And as this is a crime of
the highest nature, being an act of rebellion
against the state or community of which he is a
member, so does it subject the party to divers
forfeitures and disabilities, for hereby he loses
liberam legem, is out of the king’s protection. It
is further said in the same place, that in outlawry
in treason and felony the law interprets the party's
absence as a sufficient evidence of his guilt, and,
without requiring further proof, accounts him
guilty of the fact, on which ensues corruption of
blood and forfeiture of his whole estate, real and
personal, which he holds in his own right. — One
of the most memorable proceedings in Outlawry
was directed against the well-known agitator and
member of parliament, Wilkes Booth, in conse-
quence of his withdrawing to France, while an
information for libel was pending against him
(1770). On technical grounds (Lord Mansfield
presiding) the proceeding was quashed. The pro-
cess of outlawry was so beset with technical diffi-
culties that it could hardly ever be successfully
maintained. In the United States it never was
generally recognized either in criminal or civil
cases. This process of outlawry, as found in the
common law, as applicable to minor offenses and
even to civil cases, if it ever prevailed on the
continent of Europe, was soon superseded by pro-
cess and judgment in contumaciam, taken from
the Roman and canon law even in criminal cases.
Parties sued or indicted may, under that process,
be summoned by publication and be condemned
in their absence, but not without evidence being
heard, which condemnation, however, upon ap-
pearance within certain prescribed periods, may be
set aside on terms. – Outlawry in the English
sense was there confined to high and capital
crimes, and was frequently applied by the secret
courts, held by certain tribunals in some parts
of Germany, under imperial sanction (Vehm,
Gerichte) in the middle ages. Those convicted,
when within the power of the tribunal, were at
once executed by the subordinate officials, and
those who escaped were outlawed, and liable to be
executed wherever found by officers or members
of the brotherhood. In Rome and Greece every-
body could kill an outlaw, and it is a somewhat
disputed point whether at earlier times this was
not also allowable at common law before it was
expressly prohibited by statute. In the holy Ger-
man empire outlawry, called Reichs-Acht (Bann),
played a great part, but it was more of a political
than strictly legal process. It was adopted in
cases of felony, committed by the great vassals
against the emperor, their liege lord; also in cases
of great crimes and misdemeanors not strictly
breaches of fealty. The imperial great bann had
to proceed from the diet; the lower bann could be
pronounced by local courts, and had but a local
application. Upon complaint, sustained by the
estates of the empire assembled in diet, the accused
was summoned, usually three times, and upon
default conviction followed and declaration of
outlawry. With the great vassals the decrees
could only be enforced by a real war. The out-
lawry of Henry the Lion (the head of the Guelph
faction), duke of Saxony and Bavaria, was per-
haps the most noted instance of this process.
Having failed to heed the summons to answer the
impeachment at three different sessions of the
diet, outlawry (the Ober- or Aber-Acht) was pro-
nounced against him at the diet held at Wurzburg
(1180) by the emperor Frederick I. (Barbarossa,
chief of the Ghibelins). It was a political act
more than a legal one, as it also declared a for-
feiture of his estates held as benefices, and not in
his own right, which was not usual either at com-
mon law or at the German law. Henry took up
arms, but being unsuccessful, fled to his father-
in-law, the king of England. Tater, amnestied,
he was reinstated into Brunswick and Luneburg,
his allodial possessions. – The outlawry of the
elector John Frederick of Saxony, and of Philip,
landgrave of Hesse, the Protestant leaders in the
reformation, was wholly irregular, being declared
by a mere edict of the emperor Charles W.,
without sanction of the diet (Reichstag) 1547.
Equally irregular had been the outlawry of Martin
Luther, by a mere minority of the diet of Worms
in 1521, when the session, by the departure of
most of the members, had been virtually closed.
Some of the most powerful princes of the em-
pire at Once protested against it, and the emperor
never took steps to execute it. All formalities
had been neglected. The only resolution that
was legally passed against Luther was one bind-
ing the estates of the empire not to obstruct the
38
OUTLET.
papal bulls against Luther, which had only a
clerical effect by excommunicating him. Other
imperial outlawries sanctioned by the diet were
those against the elector palatine Frederick, king
of Bohemia, and his allies, in 1619, and against
the electoral princes of Bavaria and Cologne in
the war of the Spanish succession, on account of
their alliance with France in 1702. An attempt
to outlaw Frederick the Great of Prussia, at the
commencement of the seven years war (1758)
failed in its initial steps. Purely political acts,
without any legal proceedings, were the outlawry
of the Baron de Stein, ex-minister of Prussia, by
Napoleon I., in 1809, and that of Napoleon him-
self by the princes assembled at the Vienna con-
gress in 1815, as also that of Gen. B. F. Butler
by the confederate states.
GUSTAVE KOERNER.
OUTLET. An outlet, properly speaking, is an
opening made for the sale of certain products.
We say that a merchant seeks an outlet for his
wares, when he is in quest of places where he
can sell them; that he finds an outlet abroad,
when his products are ordinarily sold abroad. To
open outlets to a country is to give it the oppor-
tunity of entering upon friendly relations with
other countries, which will afford it new avenues
of sale. It would seem that this subject does not
allow of any really economic development. But
J. B. Say has almost given us a theory of it. We
here reproduce his thoughts on the matter. They
have been approved and appreciated by all econo-
mists. – “As the division of labor makes it im-
possible for producers to consume more than a
small part of their products, they are compelled
to seek consumers who may need these surplus
products. They are compelled to find what is
called, in the language of commerce, outlets, or
markets, that is, means of effecting the exchange
of the products which they have created against
those which they need. It is important for them
to know how these outlets are opened to them. —
Every product embodies a utility, the faculty of
ministering to the satisfaction of a want. A prod-
uct is a product only by reason of the value
which has been given to it; and this value can be
given to it only by giving it utility. If a product
cost nothing, the demand for it would be infinite;
for no one would neglect an opportunity to pro-
cure for himself what satisfies or serves to sat-
isfy his wants, when he could have it for the
wishing it. If this were the case with all products,
and one could have them all for nothing, human
beings would come into existence to consume
them; for human beings are born wherever they
can obtain the things necessary to their subsistence.
The outlets opened to them would become im-
mense in number. These outlets are limited only
by the necessity under which consumers are to
pay for what they wish to acquire. It is never
the will to acquire, but the means to acquire, that
is wanting. — Yet in what does this means con-
sist? In money, we shall be hastily told. Grant-
ed; but I ask in turn, by what means does this
money come into the hands of those who desire
to buy? must it not be obtained by the sale of
another product? The man who wishes to buy
must first sell, and he can only sell what he pro-
duces, or what has been produced for him. If
the Owner of land does not sell with his own
hands the portion of the harvest which comes to
him by reason of his proprietorship, his lessee
sells it for him. If the capitalist, who has made
advances to a manufacturer, in order to get his
interest, does not himself sell a part of the manu-
factured goods, the manufacturer sells it for him.
It is always by means of products that we pur-
chase the products of others. Beneficiaries, pen-
sioners of the state themselves, who produce
nothing, are able to buy goods only because
things have bc.cn produced, by which they have
profited. —What must we conclude from this?
If it be with products that products are purchased,
each product will find more purchasers in pro-
portion as all other products shall have increased
in quantity. How is it that in France eight or
ten times more things are bought to-day, than
under the miserable reign of Charles VI. ? It
must not be imagined that it is because there is.
more money in that country now; for if the mines
of the new world had not increased the amount.
of specie in circulation, gold and silver would
have preserved their old value; that value would
even have increased; silver would be worth per-
haps what gold is worth now; and a smaller
amount of silver would render the same service.
that a very considerable quantity renders us, just
as a gold piece of twenty francs renders us as:
much service as four five-franc pieces. What is.
it, then, that enables the French to purchase ten
times as many things, since it is not the greater
quantity of money which they possess? The
reason is, that they produce ten times as much.
All these things are bought, the ones by the
others. More wheat is sold in France, because
cloth and a great number of other things are
manufactured there in a much greater quantity.
Products unknown to our ancestors are bought.
by other products of which they had no idea.
The man who produces watches (which were
unknown in the time of Charles VI.), purchases.
with his watches, potatoes (which were also then
unknown). — So true is it, that it is with products.
that products are purchased, that a bad harvest
injures all sales. Indeed, bad weather, which
destroys the wheat and the vines of the year, does.
not, at the same time, destroy coin. Yet the Sale
of cloths instantly suffers from it. The products.
of the mason, the carpenter, the roofer, joiner,
etc., are less in demand. The same is true of the
harvests made by the arts and by commerce.
When one branch of industry suffers, others.
suffer too. An industry which is prosperous, on
the other hand, makes others prosper also. —
The first deduction which may be drawn from
this important truth is, that in every state the
more numerous the producers are, and the more
OUTLET.
39
production is increased, the more easy, varied
and vast do outlets become. In the places which
produce much, there is created the substance with
which alone purchases are made: I mean value.
— Money fills only a transient office in this double
exchange. After each one has sold what he has
produced, and bought what he wishes to con-
Sume, it is found that products have always been
paid for in products. – We thus see that each has
an interest in the prosperity of all, and that the
prosperity of one kind of industry is favorable
to the prosperity of all others. In fact, whatever
may be the industry to which man devotes him-
self, whatever the talent which he exercises, he
will find it easier to employ it and to reap a
greater profit from it in proportion as he is sur-
rounded by people who are themselves gaining.
A man of talent, sadly vegetating in a country
in a state of decline, would find a thousand
avenues of employment for his faculties in a
productive country, where his talents might be
used and paid for. A merchant established in an
industrious city, sells much larger amounts than
one who lives in a country in which indifference
and idleness rule. What would an active manu-
facturer or a capable merchant do in one of the
poorly peopled and poorly civilized cities of cer-
tain portions of Spain or Poland? Although he
would encounter no competitor there, he would
sell little, because little is produced there; whereas
in Paris, Amsterdam or London, despite the com-
petition of a hundred merchants like himself, he
might do an immense business. The reason is
simple: he is surrounded by people who produce
much in a multitude of ways, and who make
purchases with what they have produced; that is
to say, with the money resulting from the sale of
what they have produced, or with what their
land or their capital has produced for them. —
Such is the source of the profits which the people
of cities make from the people of the country and
which the latter make from the former. Both
have more to buy in proportion as they produce
more. A city surrounded by a productive coun-
try finds there numerous and rich buyers; and in
the neighborhood of a manufacturing city the
products of the country sell much better. It is
by a vain distinction that nations are classed as
agricultural, manufacturing and commercial na-
tions. If a nation is successful in agriculture, it
is a reason why its commerce and its manufac-
tures should prosper. If its manufactures and its
commerce become flourishing, its agriculture will
be better in consequence. A nation is in the
same position as regards neighboring nations that
a province is in relation to the country; it is inter-
ested in their prosperity; it is certain to profit by
their wealth; for nothing is to be gained from a
people who have nothing wherewith to pay.
Hence, well-advised countries do all in their power
to favor the progress of their neighbors. The
republics of America have for neighbors savage
peoples who live generally by the chase, and sell
furs to the merchants of the United States; but
this trade is of little importance, for these savages
need a vast extent of country to find only a
limited number of wild animals, and these wild
animals are diminishing every day. Hence, the
United States much prefer to have these Indians
civilized, become cultivators of the soil, manu-
facturers, in fine, more capable producers; which
unfortunately is very difficult of accomplishment,
because it is very hard for men reared in habits
of vagabondage and idleness to apply themselves
to work. Yet there are examples of Indians who
have become industrious. I read in the descrip-
tion of the United States, by Mr. Warden, that
the tribes then living on the banks of the Missis-
sippi, and who afforded no market to the citizens
of the United States, were enabled to purchase of
them in 1810 more than 80,000 francs’ worth of
merchandise; and probably they afterward bought
from them a much larger amount. Whence came
this change? From the fact that these Indians
began to cultivate the bean and Indian corn, and
to work the lead mines which were within their
reservation. — The English rightly expect that
the new republics of America, after their emanci-
pation shall have favored their development, will
afford them more numerous and richer consumers,
and already they are reaping the harvest of a
policy more in consonance with the intelligence
of our age; but this is nothing compared with
the advantages which they will reap from them
in the future. Narrow minds imagine some hid-
den motives in this enlightened policy. But
what greater object can men propose to them-
selves than to render their country rich and
powerful? — A people who are prosperous should
therefore be regarded rather as a useful friend
than as a dangerous competitor. A nation must
doubtless know how to guard itself against the
foolish ambition or the anger of a neighbor, who
understands its own interests so badly as to quar-
rel with it; but after it has put itself in the way
to fear no unjust aggression, it is not best to
weaken any other nation. We have seen mer-
chants of London and Marseilles dread the en-
franchisement of the Greeks and the competition
of their commerce. These men had very false
and very narrow ideas. What commerce could
the independent Greeks carry on which would not
be favorable to French industry? Can they carry
products to France without buying her products
and carrying away an equivalent value? And if
it is money that they wish, how can France acquire
it otherwise than by the products of her indus-
try? A prosperous people is in every way favor-
able to the prosperity of the other. Gould the
Greeks indeed carry on business with French mer-
chants against the will of the latter? And would
French merchants consent to a trade which was not
lucrative to themselves and consequently for their
country? — If the Greeks should become estab-
lished in their independence, and grow rich by
their agriculture, their arts and their commerce,
they would become for all other peoples valuable
consumers; they would experience new wants, and
40
OWER-PRODUCTION.
have wherewith to pay for their satisfaction. It
is not necessary to be a philanthropist to assist
them; it is only necessary to be in a condition to
understand one's own true interests. – These
truths so important, which are beginning to pene-
trate among the enlightened classes of Society,
were absolutely unknown in the periods previous
to our own. Voltaire made patriotism consist in
wishing evil to one's neighbors. His humanity,
his natural generosity, lamented this. How much
happier are we, who, by the simple advance of
enlightenment, have acquired the certainty that
we have no enemies but ignorance and perversity;
that all nations are, by nature and by their inter-
ests, friends of one another ; and that to wish
prosperity to other peoples, is to love and serve
our own country.” J. B. SAY.
OWER-PRODUCTION. Over-production is a
term which is clear and simple as each man ap-
plies it in his own business, but which is liable to
be misunderstood when applied to the business of
the community. This combination of apparent
clearness and real doubt has caused much con-
fusion and unnecessary argument; SO that we
must begin with a careful analysis of its meaning
in various aspects.
occurring “when the production of anything is
carried beyond the point where it ceases to be re-
munerative.” For instance: a manufacturer owns
his plant, but depends upon credit for the pur-
chase of raw materials and the means of paying
wages. Now if his product brings the expected
price, it compensates him for all these advances,
and gives him his business profit in addition. But
a slight fall in the price of his product, from
whatever cause it arises, will sweep away his
business profit. This is the point where produc-
tion ceases to be remunerative. A further fall
will not only leave him without business profit,
but also without compensation for the wages he
has advanced, or without the means of paying
for his raw material; so that the more he has
manufactured the poorer he is for it. To him,
then, all production on these terms is over-produc-
tion. And to him the result is the same in its
main features, whatever be the reason for the
fall in price. He could have avoided the worst of
the trouble to himself, had he but curtailed his
production in time. — But if we go one step back,
and look for the causes which occasion this fall.
in price, we find that it may be due to any one
of three things: 1. A disproportionate produc-
tion of this particular article; 2. A hindrance of
any kind which prevents placing goods in the
most advantageous market; 3. A general fall in
prices. As regards its relation to the general
business of the community, the first of these
causes acts in a very different way from the sec-
ond and third; and it is to the first of these causes
that the name over-production is most properly
applied. The mistakes of Sismondi, Chalmers
and even Malthus in this connection arose from
their supposing that it meant the same thing in
It is defined by Malthus as
the second and third causes as in the first. They
Said that depression in individual branches of
trade arose from over-production in those branch-
es, and inferred that when phenomena of the same
kind were seen everywhere there was the same
kind of over-production everywhere. But this is
by no means the case. Disproportionate produc-
tion is one thing; failure to sell at the expected
price may be quite another. It may look like the
same thing to the individual producer, and yet
mean very different things respecting the past
and future of the business community. Dispro-
portionate production is liable to occur at any
time in individual branches of trade. It is only
when it becomes much more serious than usual,
and is combined with other causes, that it is fol-
lowed by a commercial crisis. But the so-called
gcncral owcr production doog not ordinarily occur
except in connection with a crisis, and there it is
a result rather than a cause. By keeping this dis-
tinction in mind we shall avoid confusing the
real partial over-production which usually pre-
cedes commercial crises, with the apparent general
over-production which is characteristic of their ad-
vanced stages. It is with the former of these that
this article mainly deals. – Disproportionate pro-
duction on a small scale, such as constantly oc-
curs in one or another branch of industry, read-
justs itself so easily as to occasion no harm except
a temporary one to a few individual producers in
that Hine. The capitalists see their mistake the
moment their business profits are swept away,
and use less capital in their business; the excess
of supply is quickly consumed, prices recover,
and the business goes on as before. But special
circumstances may aggravate the trouble to the
extent of a public calamity, and special lines of
production are particularly liable to such mis-
fortune. When large amounts have been in-
vested in fixed capital, such as machinery, public
works, or, above all, railroads, such excess of
supply can not be quickly consumed, but exerts
its depressing influence for a long time to come.
And, on the other hand, when special lines of
production have been stimulated by a temporary
demand at abnormally high prices, as was the
case in the iron business in 1873, and is liable to
be the case to a less marked extent in almost any
other line of manufacture, it will be found that
after the excess is worked off and consumed,
prices still do not recover anything like their for-
mer figures. We thus have two types of business
liable to over-production; one because he excess
of supply is permanent, the other because the high
price is abnormal. The history of ºilroad build-
ing on the one hand, and of iron production on
the other, furnishes the most striking instances of
these results, as well as the most complete statis-
tics for our purpose. —Ever since the invention
of railroads excessive railroad building has been
a leading symptom of an approaching crisis. In
1837, it is true, the system of railroads was not
yet far enough advanced to be an important fac-
tor, yet here we had the same kind of extrava-
OVER-PRODUCTION.
41
gance in building roads and canals on borrowed
capital, and the same effects from it. It was in
England in the years preceding the crisis of 1847
that the railroad first assumed its importance as a
subject of speculative production. Of the work-
ings of a railroad system capitalists knew very lit-
tle; but they went into the business with the same
blind confidence that their ancestors had gone into
South sea bubbles. And this reckless investment
of capital was encouraged by the blind belief of
legislators in unchecked railway competition as
an unmixed benefit to the public. 678 Com-
panies—for the most part, it must be said, with
ridiculously short lines—applied for incorporation
in the year 1845 alone; and of these 136 were ac-
tually incorporated, 65 receiving the royal assent
in a single day. And this at a time when the sys-
tem was in its infancy. By the end of the year
1847 the estimated value of the railways incor-
porated was more than a thousand million dol-
lars, and a large part of this sum had been act-
ually expended, while most of the work was too
incomplete to bring in returns that could be used
in payment of interest. There is no need, for our
present purpose, of going into the further history
of the crisis of 1847; in a community which had
been investing its capital thus recklessly, any
economic shock must needs produce the most
serious results. The crisis of 1857 is not so dis-
tinctly an instance in point. There was indeed
in many cases a sudden shrinkage of railroad
earnings and a marked decrease in railroad build-
ing—3,647 miles being added in the United States
in 1856, 2,647 in 1857, 2,465 in 1858, and only
1,821 in 1859. But this was hardly over-produc-
tion in its truest sense. The shrinkage came else-
where even more than here. There had been
speculation and extravagance everywhere, and
much property changed hands as values settled
down to a truer basis. But there was no useless
mass of lingeringly insolvent capital, almost no
disproportionate production that could not be
made use of in some way beneficial to the com-
munity. — Not so, in 1873. For five years men
had been building railroads to an extent hitherto
unheard of. High wages and prices had made
the real cost of construction great, and the extrav-
agant spirit of those years had added other items
of expense. Only an abnormally stimulated trade
could enable them to meet their obligations and
furnish profit besides. But the panic of 1873 left
trade abnormally depressed; and many roads
were in no condition to meet their obligations.
Sooner or later they had to reorganize; but before
this could be done they succeeded in doing a
great deal of harm to other people's property as
well as their own. Once regarding themselves as
insolvent, they felt exempt from a number of re-
sponsibilities that had hampered them. If they
could not get business at a paying price they
would get it at a price that did not pay, and force
competing solvent roads into non-paying rates.
Hence arose the railroad wars culminating in
1876, when the Grand Trunk and the Erie, then
each year by the “Railway Age.”
insolvent roads, swept away the profits of the
Pennsylvania and the Baltimore & Ohio, and for
the time greatly reduced investors' confidence in
the New York Central. This is the typical effect
of over-production: the surplus is not only in itself
unprofitable, but as long as it lasts will depress
values of everything with which it competes.
And the continued existence of such masses of
undisposable surplus may be regarded as a lead-
ing difference between the long crisis of 1873 and
the shorter one of 1857. — The extent to which
railroad over-production was carried is shown by
the figures in Poor's Manual. In 1869 there were
built in the United States 4,615 miles of railway;
in 1870, 6,070; in 1871, 7,379; in 1872, 5,878; and
in 1873, 4,107: an average for five years of over
5,600 miles. In 1874 the number fell to 2,105, and
in 1875 to 1,712; for the five years succeeding
1873 the average was less than 2,300, or only
about two-fifths the previous. The figures for
France and Germany about the same time tell a
similar story, Not less striking are the figures
illustrating shrinkage of value. The “Railroad
Gazette ’’ of Sept. 27, 1878, furnishes statistics on
this point concerning forty-five roads dealt in by
the New York stock exchange, and in soundness
presumably above the average of those in the
country. The aggregate value of these roads, at
their highest prices in 1873 (reduced to a gold
basis), was $567,000,000; at the lowest prices of
the same year it had fallen to $380,000,000; while
in September, 1878, it was still only $460,000,000.
Still more to the purpose are the figures concern-
ing foreclosures furnished at the beginning of
In 1876 there
were sold under foreclosure, (this term being ap-
parently used in a rather wide sense), 3,846 miles
of road, representing $218,000,000 of capital; and
in the four years succeeding, 3,875, 3,902, 4,909,
3,775, miles of road, representing investments
of $199,000,000, $312,000,000, $243,000,000 and
$264,000,000, respectively. One-fifth of the rail-
way investment of the country sold under fore-
closure in these five years of settlement! . Whether
this has taught us its lesson remains to be seen.
Men have lost faith in unlimited railway com-
petition; but a specially pernicious form of over-
production is developed in the case of parallel
roads, built to sell rather than to operate; for
the sake, that is, of forcing the old road to
buy a controlling interest to avoid a railroad
war. The enormous increase of railways in re-
cent years (4,721 miles in 1879, 7,174 in 1880,
9,358 in 1881, 11,343 (?) in 1882) gives ground for
apprehension, even though this rate of building
is not likely to continue. — In looking at over-
production in the iron industry, variations in
price are even more striking than variations in
production. In January, 1871, the average
Philadelphia price of No. 1 pig iron was $30.50
per gross ton. From this time it steadily increased
till, in September, 1872, the month's average was
$53.87. In December, 1874, it had declined to
$24, a loss of more than one-half in a little over
42
OVER-PRODUCTION.
two years; and this decline on the whole continued
till November, 1878, when the price was $16.50,
scarcely one-third of what it had been in 1872,
even if we make allowance for the gold premium.
In Great Britain the same change was still more
marked. Scotch pig, which in 1870 had sold as
low as 49%.s., rose in 1870 to 145s., and in 1878
had fallen to 42+S., less than three-tenths of what
it had brought five years before. A similar
change was seen in America at the beginning of
1880, when iron, which in July, 1879, was selling
at $19.25, rose to $40 and $41, only to fall, three
months later, to $23. — The reason for these ex-
traordinary changes is to be found in the character
of the demand for iron. A demand for iron at
all often means a demand at any price, whether it
be for a railroad that can make no money till its
tracks are laid, or a factory that can make none
without new machinery. But the demand that
forces up the price is moderate in quantity; and
though the high rates may be submitted to by the
immediate demand, they may check the future
demand. Thus, those who have gone into the
iron business under the stimulus of high rates
find that the pressure was only temporary; the
extra supply, by the time they are ready with it,
no longer wanted; and in place of the readiness to
buy at any price, however high, comes an unwill-
ingness to buy at any price, however low. Just
this course of events is indicated by the statistics
of iron production. The American pig iron
product, which in 1870 had been about 1,859,000
net tons, and in 1871 about 1,905,000, rose under
the stimulus of high prices in 1872 to 2,855,000,
and in 1873 to 2,868,000 tons. But by this time
the fall in prices had been so marked that the iron
men checked production as best they might. In
1874 they reduced their product to 2,689,000 tons;
but in spite of this reduction and of the further
fall in prices there remained at the end of the year
796,000 tons unsold in the producers’ hands. The
further course of events is shown in the following
table, compiled from figures in the report for 1881
of the secretary of the American iron and steel
association :
YEARS. *ś* | Tons Produced, tºia.
1875---------------- $25.50 2,267,000 761,000
1876---------------- 22.25 2,093,000 687,000
1877---------------- 18.87 2,315,000 j42,
1878---------------- 17.62 2,577,000 575,000
1879---------------- 21.50 3,071,000 142,000
From this it appears that in spite of diminished
production and prices it was not until 1877 that
they were able to reduce materially the proportion
of their product unsold. As soon as they began
to do this they were on a sounder basis; but what
this involved may be inferred from the fact that
out of 700 furnaces in the United States only
about 250 were in blast in the year 1877; and that
in the whole iron industry there was probably not
a branch worked up to half the capacity which
its fixed capital would admit. (For the statistics
"grain, normal production meant ruin.
of the same general depression throughout the
world, see “ Economist,” Com. Hist, and Rev. of
1878, supplement to March 5, 1879.) A repetition
of Some of these phenomena has been seen in the
last four years; notably in the case of steel rails,
whose price increased from $42 per gross ton in
May, 1879, to $85 in February, 1880, but at the
end of the year 1882 had fallen to $39. There
was the same reckless investment of capital to
meet a temporary demand at high prices, and the
same impossibility of maintaining anything like
those prices when the extra supply was thrown on
the market. — Railroad production and iron pro-
duction furnish types of the two causes which
render disproportionate production a source of
lasting evil: in the former case, because the in-
crease of supply is permanent ; in the latter,
because the high demand is only momentary.
The introduction of machinery is apt to produce
effects of the former character; the supply of
articles of fashion and luxury is subject to the lat-
ter. It was the combination of these two that had
a large share in causing the English crises of 1818.
and 1825. Agricultural produce is less liable to
these disturbances than anything else, the excep-
tion in the case of cotton in 1837 and 1839 being
only apparent; the evil was due to speculation on
the part of cotton producers rather than to dis-
proportionate production of cotton. So in Eng-
land in 1847, when an exceptionally good harvest
was the occasion of a crisis, it was not because
there was more food than people had been in
the habit of demanding, but because to certain
individuals, who had speculated in the price of
Results
like these may occur when any combination
makes a speculative attempt to control production
and prices both. When such a combination is
powerful enough to form a monopoly, there is no
doubt that a check to production generally in-
creases their returns, the prices rising more
rapidly than the quantity diminishes. And, con-
versely, an increase of production, even under
their own hands, actually diminishes the gross
returns. If an individual extends his production”
his gross returns are commonly increased. If a
monopoly extends its production the opposite effect
is quite as common. —We have hitherto spoken
of over-production only in the sense of dispropor-
tionate production. It was shown at the outset
that the same effect upon individual producers
might result from a failure to reach the right mar-
ket, or from a general fall in prices. The first
may be due to transportation difficulties, or to
tariff legislation; the second, to a contraction of
the currency; but by far the commonest cause of
both is a commercial crisis. It renders the credit.
system so far inoperative that it is impossible to
place goods where they are the most needed; and
it so far increases the demand for ready money
instead of credit documents that it has the Same
effect upon prices as currency contraction. It
may thus happen that the appearance of over-pro-
duction will occur as the result of a crisis even in

PAPER MONEY.
43.
those lines where there has been no abnormal
production, merely in consequence of difficulty in
doing business and in paying debts. This is what
has given rise to the name and idea of general
Over-production. — For more extended theoretical
discussion of certain points, which the limits of
this article do not allow, see Roscher, Political
Economy, $ 215–217; J. S. Mill, Principles of
Political Economy, bk. iii., ch. xiv.; Francis A.
Walker, Political Economy, § 214–224; George
Chesney, Fortnightly Review, September, 1881.
- ARTHUR T, HADLEY,
P
ACIFIC RAILROAD. (See INTERNAL IM-
PROVEMENTS, RAILROADS.)
PAPER MONEY. If there be an experiment
which has been seriously made and as to the re-
sults of which there can be no doubt, it is the
experiment which demonstrates the chimerical
advantages and grave dangers of paper money,
employed as an instrument of production. Never-
theless, numberless deceptions, the injury done
to public credit and national good faith, and the
ruins of the past, do not seem to have entirely
dissipated a dangerous illusion ; recent facts, as
well as the persistence of false doctrines, prove
this but too well; the human mind frees itself
with difficulty from the fatal influence exerted
over it by the mirage of wealth acquired without
labor, of a pretended increase of capital called
into existence by the magic wand of credit, and of
a new species of alchemy which transmutes paper
into gold. — Nothing, however, can be simpler
than the examination of this problem, and noth- |
more or less ingenious, and more or less sure, by
ing easier of solution. It suffices to know what
is the part played by money, to measure how lit-
tle such an arbitrary creation as paper money can
do, and to understand its dangers. — Ours is not
the age in which the wealth of states was con-
founded with the possession of coin; money, the
great wheel of circulation, as Adam Smith calls
it, preserves nevertheless, however, an important
place in the economy of nations; it constitutes the
mechanism of exchange in the clearest and surest
conditions; it enables us to set a value on all prod-
ucts and services; it gievs activity to the crea-
tion and facilitates the distribution of wealth. It
is in fact owing to money that all are impelled to
the common work of the nation, and that the
result obtained is divided among those who have
contributed to it. It introduces a common lan-
guage into the operations of social commerce. —
But it is not a language of the imagination;
money is the sign and measure of values, because
it is their guarantee, because it represents a value
that is known, acknowledged and accepted every-
where. It is a universal commodity, while it at
the same time affords each country its local instru-
ment of purchase and sale, and of remuneration
for both public and private services. –In our day
the fetters which cramp the international move-
ment of exchanges are gradually disappearing,
and a regular equilibrium may be established to
adapt to the wants of each market the quantity of
'money necessary for the transaction of its business,
when this business preserves its character of pu-
rity, and does not degenerate into fiction. Let us
Suppose, for a moment, that gold and silver alone,
without any mixture of fiduciary signs, are the
only instruments of exchange. As nothing pre-
vents the transportation of the precious metals,
they will always resume their level by going
where a certain scarcity of them assures them
greater advantage, and abandoning those places.
in which an over-abundance causes their depreci-
ation. An admirable law of attraction governs.
them and proportions them to the useful services
which they are called upon to render, by oppos-
ing equally a sterile abundance and a scarcity of
specie. The very force of things establishes a
weir for metallic wealth, which always falls into
equilibrium with the wants of circulation. — There
is a risk of the situation being modified from the
very moment that, in order to economize upon
the mechanism of exchange, an effort is made to
substitute for gold and silver artificial means
calling to its aid what is called the magic of
credit, whose power people are inclined to exag-
gerate. Two ways are open to reach this end.
By following one of these ways the movement of
exchanges is simplified and the number of actual
payments reduced; recourse is had to those ingen-
ious creations which render the actual interven-
tion of specie superfluous, or limited in a number
of cases, by means of bills of exchange, of open
accounts in the banks, of set-offs and transfers;
or else circulation is accelerated in Such a manner
as to increase the services rendered by each piece
of money. In this way we obtain an advantage.
similar to that which two iron rails placed parallel
upon the ground afford by the saving in friction,
which increases the traction. The same result is,
obtained with less expenditure of force and capi-
tal, thanks to the economy and energy of the
springs set at work. Here all is gain and no.
danger; such is the largest function of credit and
an inexhaustible source of fecundity. — But, by
the side of these useful combinations, whose in-
fluence is too often ignored, we have the creation
of a sign easy to manufacture, which costs next to
nothing, and which is substituted in a greater or
less proportion for metallic money: we refer to
the bank mote, which is called upon to act the part.
of money, because it is or ought to be accepted in
business transactions to liquidate debts. – If this.
44
PAPER MONEY.
fiduciary sign rests on the guaranty of a metallic
value, against which it may be exchanged at will,
and if we may accept or refuse it at pleasure, it
constitutes money paper, which must be carefully
distinguished from paper money. If it be im-
posed by authority, whether it emanates from the
public treasury or from a private institution, and
we are not at liberty to demand its equivalent in
gold or silver, but are obliged to accept it, it de-
generates into paper money. In the first case it
aims to supply in part the metallic money, of
which the country should reserve a sufficient
amount to assure the exchange of bills for specie,
and to serve in those transactions in which bank
notes can not enter. In the second case it has for
effect to replace metallic money even to the point
of the issue of paper money with compulsory cir-
culation or of so-called legal tender character. —
The aggregate of business transactions requires
but a certain determinate amount of specie in
each country at a given time. If bank bills are
Substituted for a part of the instruments of ex-
change, the surplus disappears under the form of
merchandise, in order to restore the level, unless
the coin be reserved in the treasury as a pledge
of the paper money in circulation: thus it is that
paper money drives out coin. — We may in a cer-
tain limited measure, as we shall see, economize
upon the portion of the national capital employed
in the making of the instrument of exchange.
An institution of credit, solidly established, may
maintain in circulation a mass of bills which will
be in as much favor as specie, provided the metal-
lic reserve guarantees their payment at sight, and
provided the bill represents a sufficiently impor-
tant part of the monetary unit to facilitate trans-
portation and shorten accounts. However, we can
Supply in this way only a portion of the money
needed; but the amount of the latter relatively to
the amount of business transactions diminishes in
proportion as civilization advances, as Society
improves, and as credit is extended. In 1873
the wealth of England was estimated at two
hundred milliards of francs, and its production
at about twenty-four milliards; the total amount
of money in the country, metallic and fiduciary,
scarcely exceeded three milliards; the wealth of
France in the same year was estimated at one hun-
dred and sixty milliards of francs; its production
was scarcely inferior to that of England; it had
twice the amount (about six milliards) in specie
and bank notes. It would be an exaggeration to
reckon the wealth of Russia at 50,000,000,000
francs, and its products at 12,000,000,000; it em-
ploys about 4,000,000,000 francs in specie and
paper money. The possible economy on the
amount of capital employed in the medium of
circulation, is therefore in an inverse ratio to the
Sum total of national wealth. The richer a
country is, the less it gains by abandoning the
solid ground of gold and silver. — The saving of
capital effected by the regular use of bank notes
would be reckoned high if placed at from one-
fourth to one-third of the sum required for the
purpose of the exchange of wealth; if we take
into consideration the necessary reserves, it does
not amount to half a milliard of francs in England,
and if it rises to two milliards in France, it is because
of an abnormal condition, the result of the Franco-
Prussian war, which can not last. It amounts,
according to this showing, to the one four-hun.
dredth part of the wealth of the United Kingdom,
and to about one-hundredth part of the wealth of
France. Regarding this comparison from another
point of view, we may say that the interest of the
metallic capital thus replaced frees England and
France from an annual burden of twenty and
eighteen millions of francs respectively, calculat-
ing the interest at 4 per cent. This is equivalent
to about the one-thousandth part of the produc-
tion of England, and to about the one three-hun.
dredth part of the production of France. As a
matter of course bank notes render much more
important service in France by the facility and
convenience which they afford, and by the saving
which they render possible, even without taking
any account of the inconveniences of compulsory
circulation, to which France was subjected after
1870. — These gains are not without their accom-
panying dangers, which grow more serious the
more the volume of notes increases. In propor-
tion as this volume increases, the metallic supply
decreases, and as confidence is the stuff of which
Credit is made, if a period of calm and prosperity
be succeeded by one of uneasiness, or if impera-
• tive needs require a great exportation of specie,
every effort must be made to recall the absent
metal, even at the cost of great sacrifices and by
paying dear for it; this it is that makes the emis-
sion of bank notes so perilous; this it is that for-
bids us to go beyond a certain restrictive limit,
unless we would resign ourselves to the dangers
of compulsory circulation. If this limit, which is
variable it is true, be passed, it necessarily leads
to commercial crises when the fiduciary paper
has been issued only as the representative sign
of private engagements, and to a political crisis
when paper money has been issued to meet the
wants of the state. — Adam Smith recognized the
utility of the “wagonway through the air” of
credit, which enables the “country to convert, as
it were, a great part of its highways into good pas-
tures and corn fields,” highways represented by
metallic money. “Nevertheless,” he adds, “the
commerce and the industry of the country, it
must be acknowledged, though they may be some-
what augmented, can not be altogether so secure
when they are thus, as it were, suspended upon
the Daedalian wings of paper money, as when
they travel upon the solid ground of gold and
silver.” After having pointed out the danger he
endeavors to destroy the attraction of an imag-
inary benefit: “the whole paper money of every
kind which can circulate in any country can
never exceed the value of the gold and silver of
which it supplies the place.” — Let us, by an ex-
treme hypothesis, suppose ourselves in a society
from which the use of the precious metals has en-
PAPER MONEY.
45
tirely disappeared. If we should go beyond this,
as paper money does not unite in itself the char-
acters both of sign and of pledge, and as it does
not become a commodity when it ceases to be a
means of discharge from debt, it can not flow into
foreign countries, and its excess produces depre-
ciation. But who will flatter himself that he can
measure exactly the amount of the media of circula-
tion necessary in a country? This amount depends
not only upon the mass but also upon the rapidity
of exchanges. When the precious metals alone
are employed, or when they effect the major part
of business transactions, their level is maintained
naturally, thanks to the weir which opens on for-
eign markets: this level can not but be violently
disturbed when the bounds of prudence are over-
stepped by the issue of money paper, and espe-
cially when the nation abandons itself to the dan-
gerous seductions of paper money. — The danger
exists even when a private institution is granted
the dangerous privilege which excuses it from
payment at sight; it assumes a much graver as-
pect when the state itself assumes this perilous
function. History furnishes most sad and strik-
ing examples of the chastisement everywhere vis-
ited upon these same mistakes. France, England,
Austria, Russia, and the United States, not to
swell the list by citing the instances of secondary
states, have paid the penalty of the system of Law
and of the assignats, of the forced circulation of
bank notes, of the Bank;2ettel, of paper roubles,
and of continental money. It is a curious fact
that Poland alone, a country which it is sought
to blot out entirely from the map of Europe, pre-
served itself from this plague down to the very
time of its subjugation by Russia. This latter
country has, on the contrary, always had, upon a
large scale, a fictitious system of circulation,
which it inherited from Chinese, Tartar and
Mongolian traditions. We do not wish to make
any vain display of erudition, nor to enter into
investigations which could be of interest only to
the curious, and we shall therefore confine our-
selves to recalling the fact that Genghis Khan
made use of paper money, and that, toward the
end of the thirteenth century, his grandson Kob-
lai employed it in such a manner as to excite the
ingenuous admiration of Marco Polo. This admi.
ration proved only too contagious: the system,
which from China and Mongolia had invaded
Russia, was also admitted into western Europe.
But we believe we ought to point out, as a re-
markable fact, the scrupulous care with which
Napoleon I. always guarded against a like at-
tempt. He never consented to the issue of paper
money. While England had resort to the com-
pulsory circulation of paper money to resist him,
and while Russia and Austria issued prodigious
Quantities of assignats, Napoleon ever held aloof
from this disorder, and de Montalivet, minister
of the interior, said, in a circular addressed to the
prefects on the 25th of October, 1810: “The em-
peror regards paper money as the greatest scourge
of nations, and as being, to morals, what the
plague is in the physical order.” — By a singular
concatenation of truths and errors the wisest
operations of the most severely administered
banks have in the end degenerated into a mon-
strous creation of paper money. — Everywhere
in Europe, except in Poland, the right of the
crown to coin money, which had pretended to
put an end to the fraud and pillage organized by
local suzerains, ended by giving rise to successive
lowering of the standard, lessening of the weight
and debasing of the coin. The great Copernicus
wrote, in the beginning of the sixteenth century,
upon this important question in a treatise that is
almost unknown: ‘‘ However innumerable the
scourges that ordinarily lead to the decline of
kingdoms, principalities and republics, the four
following are, to my mind, the most formidable: .
discord, pestilence, barrenness of the land, and
the deterioration of the money. As far as the
first three are concerned the evidence is such that
no one is ignorant of them. But as to the fourth,
if we except a few men of superior intelligence,
very few concern themselves about it; and why?
Because it does not ruin the state at a single blow,
but little by little, by a sort of hidden action.”—
The diversity and variation of moneys was one of
the causes that led to the establishment of banks
of deposit, which reduced these uncertain signs
to a common denomination, by creating bank
money fixed and invariable which took into con-
sideration the metallic value of the specie depos-
ited. The notes issued were fully represented
by the specie deposited in the banks; to conven-
ience and accuracy they joined the most complete
security, and soon gained universal favor. — It
was noticed that the greater part of these titles
continued in circulation, without any demand
being made for the restitution of the specie
guaranteeing them. Some banks employed the
latter, thus leaving a part of their notes unse-
cured, at least as far as the metallic pledge was
concerned. They were likewise led to attempt
the inverse operation by issuing more notes than
they possessed reserve in money or in bullion,
thus increasing the profits of the institution and
replacing a portion of their metallic stock by
what we may call trust notes. They had obli-
gated themselves to pay at sight: but as the de-
mands for coin were not made simultaneously,
these demands were met by diminishing the
amount of their reserve corresponding to the titles
issued. The declivity was a dangerous one, the
enticement of gain urged the banks of issue to
extend their operations, and to utilize more and
more the marvelous power they possessed of
coining in some measure money from sheets of
paper rushed through a press. It is true that
their obligation to immediately redeem it forced
them to incessant precaution, which was con-
stantly opposed by the allurement of gain: they
were in constant danger, if they had not sufficient
specie to pay at sight. The situation in this re-
spect in our own day has not changed; it seems
to us to lead to a clearer and clearer distinction
46
PAPER MONEY.
between the issue of notes which perform the
functions of money and banking operations prop-
erly so called, and to give a separate existence, by
its concentration, to the power of creating these
notes. The two principles, which always made
war upon the liberty of the banks and the oneness
of the note payable to bearer and at sight, are
thus reconciled. — At the time when the errors of
the mercantile system estimated the wealth of
states by the amount of gold and silver they
possessed, the supplementary circulation fur-
nished by the bank note could not but be received
enthusiastically. As paper was raised to the level
of gold and silver, which were considered as the
equivalents of wealth, wealth could be increased
at will. There remained, it is true, the trouble-
some condition of redemption; but this condition,
it was said, was superfluous, it was an obstacle to
the expansion of capital, and the sovereign au-
thority, which was master of all, might readily do
away with it. What an admirable discovery!
Was not the genius of Law, as the poets of the
time Sang, to Enrichir à la fois, les sujets et les rois;
since he opened an inexhaustible source to the
spirit of enterprise, since Mississippi was called
by him to become what California has since be-
come! Thus people began by seeking in banks
of deposit a remedy for the degradation of the
coinage: the bank note circulated because based
upon a full specie guarantee; afterward this guar-
antee was diminished in the banks of issue, and
finally disappeared in paper money. — Colbert de-
nounced the unrestricted license to borrow, as a
cause of ruin to the state; what would he have
said of this formidable instrument of paper
money, which was on the point of handing over
abundant resources to the prodigality and rash
enterprises of governments, by drawing to itself
produced wealth, at the risk of destroying it by
foolish expenses and by the squandering of a part
of the public fortune, which was destined to dis-
appear in smoke under the deceptive form of
notes having a forced circulation and of assig-
nats? Sophisms were not wanting to give a brill-
iant coloring to these disastrous operations. To
procure for paper the value and efficacy of money
was to make something out of nothing, and to
have a share in divine power; wealth consisted
in an abundance of money; thanks to paper, peo-
ple were no longer tied to the precious metals,
which would not increase at will, nor follow the
commands of man, while paper money, the fruit-
ful and docile agent of the supreme power, could
be increased at will. The abbé Terrasson ex-
plains in a curious manner this phenomenon of
financial optics. “A merchant's note,” he says,
“as it may be refused in trade, does not circulate
like silver, and consequently soon returns to its
Source; its utterer finds himself obliged to pay,
and deprived of the benefit of credit. This is not
the case with the king: as every one is obliged to
accept his note, and this note circulates as silver,
he pays validly even with his promise.” “Gold and
silver,” he adds, “are merely the signs that rep-
resent real wealth, that is, commodities. An écu
is a note conceived in the following terms: any
seller will give to its bearer the commodity or
merchandise which he may need up to the amount
of three livres for as much of another kind of
merchandise which has been given me; and the
effigy of the prince takes the place of his sig-
nature. Now, what difference does it make
whether this sign is of silver or of paper ? Is it
not cheaper to choose a material that costs noth-
ing, and which one is not obliged to withdraw
from trade, where it is employed as merchandise,
which, in fine, is manufactured in the kingdom,
and which does not render us necessarily depend-
ent upon strangers and owners of mines, who
eagerly take advantage of the Seduction or éclat of
gold and silver to cause the ruin of other nations,
a material that can be increased according to his
needs, without fear of ever exhausting the Sup-
ply; finally, a material which no one will be
tempted to use for any other purpose than for cir-
culation? Paper has all these advantages which
render it preferable to silver.”— We see that the
pretended discoveries, pompously vaunted by the
new social alchemists of our day, are but old rub-
bish, long since condemned by good sense and
experience! Doctrines similar to those of the
abbé Terrasson inspired Law’s system, and led
to an emission of 2,696,400,000 livres of irredeem-
able notes, absorbed by a disgraceful bankruptcy,
at an epoch when the value of each piece of money
was, we must bear in mind, much greater, and
the needs of circulation much less, than to-day;
these doctrines, allied with other errors in her
coinage system, gave birth to the 45,000,000,000
of assignatsin France. The attempt has been vain-
ly made to palliate such a debauchery of credit,
by saying that the assignats saved the revolution,
just as it has been said that the reign of terror
saved the republic. We protest against this view
with all the energy of a conviction based upon a
scrupulous study of facts. The able memoir
communicated to the academy of moral and
political sciences by Levasseur shows how the
ruin brought about by the disordinate issue of
assignats weakened France, and Michelet has
eloquently said: “The reign of terror killed the
republic by exciting in men's minds a feeling more
powerful than that of fear, the feeling of pity!”
— A young ecclesiastical student, twenty-two
years of age, who afterward became illustrious
under the name of Turgot, completely annihilated
the errors professed by the defenders of paper
money in his admirable letter to the abbé de Cicé
(Paris, April 7, 1749). It would be difficult to
find more cogent logic enlisted in a better cause.
— Save a slight difference, arising from the cost
of production, uncoined silver is on a par with
coined silver, the money value being only a
denomination. “It is as merchandise that silver
is, not the sign, but the common measure of other
kinds of merchandise, and this not by any arbi-
trary convention, based upon the splendor of this
metal, but because, as it can be employed as mer-
PAPER MONEY.
47
chandise under different forms, and has, by reason
of this property, a salable value which is some-
what increased by its use as money, since it can,
moreover, be reduced to the same title and divided
exactly, its value is always known.”— After hav-
ing clearly stated the true principle, Turgot points
out the danger of the arbitrary multiplication of
paper. “But,” says the abbé Terrasson, “it is to
the king's interest, in order to preserve his credit,
to keep paper money within just bounds, and this
interest of the prince is sufficient to establish con-
fidence.” What are these just bounds? and how
shall they be determined? Gold and silver are dis-
tributed by their very circulation, according to
the proportion of products, of industry, wealth
and revenue which they procure, as well as of the
expenses incurred. Paper money has no meas-
ure but deceptive approximations, which a natural
allurement is wont to swell at the wish of power.
Instead of proportioning its issue to the unknown
wants of the market, the latter made its issue
conform to the insatiable requirements of the
treasury; and ruin was the consequence. This is
the common history of paper money wherever it
has functioned as an attribute of public power,
when the bank note ceased to be protected by a
contract, and was transformed into an act of power.
— We must not confound the disastrous effects of
inordinate emissions with the temporary privilege
accorded to a bank, authorizing it to suspend the
redemption of its notes in specie. When care is
taken to limit the amount of notes in circulation,
it is possible to ward off the bad effects of such
an act, especially when it is easy to foresee the end
of them, and when the prudent conduct of the
institution has acquired for it great solidity. — The
act of 1797, which made compulsory the circula-
tion of the notes of the bank of England, had but
little effect, because they were not increased be-
yond the actual needs of the home circulation.
The entire amount of notes in circulation in 1796
was £10,730,000 ; in 1797 it was but £9,675,000,
and did not exceed £13,000,000 even in 1800.
Their depreciation began when the needs of the
treasury increased this sum. We must add, also,
that the prodigious stir in industry about this
time required more numerous instruments of ex-
change, while it at the same time furnished the sin-
ews of war. Thanks to the inventions of Watt and
Arkwright, the English mechanics spun gold, so to
speak, and furnished material for the successive
loans called for by the treasury, which reached
colossal proportions. The bank of England
facilitated these loans by discounting the notes of
the exchequer, but the circulation of the notes
never reached such proportions as to be a source
of uneasiness; it never exceeded £20,000,000, ex-
cept in 1810, and the maximum point reached
was £28,000,000, before the resumption of specie
payments in 1822. Still, even thus restricted, the
prolongation of compulsory circulation was the
cause of considerable losses, first by the rise in the
price of gold, and then by the painful transition
from a depreciated currency to the re-establish-
ment of metallic money. The bank of England,
does not, therefore, furnish any argument in
favor of the inconsiderate issue of paper money;
and it suffices to recall how comparatively moder-
ate it was in its conduct, without, however,
escaping the danger of the depreciation of fiduci-
ary paper, to induce us to abandon rash designs
of a similar character. — There is much more rea-
son not to cite the example of the bank of France
in 1848, in defense of paper money. Every one
knows what good services the good standing of
this great establishment, the safety of its operations
and the care it had always taken to maintain its
specie reserve, enabled it to render to the govern-
ment and to industry during this direful period,
in spite of the terrible shock caused by the revolu-
tion of February. The compulsory circulation of
its notes was in a measure only nominal : public
administrations, the manufacturers and the mer-
chants received the specie they needed. The
confidence which the bank enjoyed attracted de-
posits to it. Although it had absorbed the depart-
mental banks, and realized the grand idea of unity
of issue, it was restricted at first to a circulation
of 452,000,000 francs in notes; this figure was in-
creased to 525,000,000 on Dec. 22, 1849, when its
reserve was firmly re-established; its notes ex-
changed at par, and even at a small premium;
and, in reality, it was the specie that had com-
pulsory circulation, as the demand for notes
exceeded the supply. The resumption of specie
payments was urgently demanded by the bank
itself, and prescribed by the decree of Aug. 6,
1850, without causing any trouble. — Thus we
see what is gained by not being carried away
by chimerical facilities, and multiplying notes
as Austria and Russia did, when the wants of
circulation did not require it; this multiplication
must necessarily lead to the instability of the
measure of values, and to a variable lowering
of the representative sign in all business trans-
actions. We shall soon tell how France, in
the face of apparently increasing financial ne-
cessities, in great part escaped this danger; for
everything here is a question of proportion. The
state which goes beyond this delicate measure
tolerates or is guilty of an abuse, and is wanting
in the performance of the high mission of power;
instead of maintaining order, guaranteeing Secu-
rity, and maintaining the public faith, it becomes
itself an instrument of sad disturbance, and at
the same time aims a blow at moral law and the
interests of production. From the moment that
money loses its character of a solid pledge of
business transactions, or that, instead of avoiding
the variations of value, it suffers their effect, con-
fidence disappears, operations extending over a
long period are stopped, credit, the mainspring
of industry, is destroyed, and circulation ceases.
Paper money destroys the type, or, as Lord Liver-
pool styled it, the Sovereign archetype of value, the
precious metals. The bank note ceases to be their
reflection and representative sign: the danger
rapidly increases, if, instead of remaining an in-
48
PARAGUAY.
strument of commerce, and of being backed by the
discount on merchandise, it is handed over at the
arbitrary will of the state, which transforms it
into a mere resource of the treasury. It then
becomes almost impossible to avoid a fatal de-
clivity; an excessive emission leads to bank-
ruptcy, for the state always issues more notes
than the needs of circulation require, and, in pro-
portion as the law of depreciation manifests itself,
it hastens the catastrophe by the necessity of em-
ploying more notes to meet the same expenses.
—The loss which the country suffers is far from
being confined to the diminution in price of the
mass of fiduciary signs; it is increased by the
unnatural amount of business transactions, ren-
dered so by a fictitious value. The money of a
nation never forms but a small portion of its
wealth, and the depreciation of paper exercises a
direful influence upon all products, which are
henceforth distributed in a false proportion. All
the relations of the sovereign power with citizens
and of citizens with one another, are changed by
it; contracts are violated; injustice triumphs, and
the public fortune declines as a result of the ruin
of individuals. – How deplorable soever the sys-
tem of paper money appears to us, we do not
wish to exaggerate anything; it is not impossible
to escape the dangers which it seems to provoke,
but to do so we must renounce the idea of seeing
in it too rich a mine, and of demanding of it
more help than it can render. By confining it to
well-defined limits, by scrupulously preventing it
from exceeding a fraction of the receipts and
expenses of the state, the government may find
in paper money, if accepted by all the public
treasuries, the means of effecting a real loan with-
out interest. But this can never be but a limited
resource, and as it may lead to dire consequences,
it would be better to renounce it from the moment
there appears a possibility of these consequences.
Many of the small German states have treasury
notes, which circulate as money, because there
are but very few of them. In 1873, with a
budget of 1,000,000,000 francs, Prussia had not
60,000,000 of Tresorscheine; the duchy of Baden
reached a larger proportion, 3,000,000 florins of
paper money to a budget of 19,000,000 florins.
It is only in microscopic and needy states that the
relative proportion is still further increased; but
the amounts are Small. Saxe-Meiningen had, in
1873, a budget of 2,000,000 florins and 356,000
florins of paper money. Saxe-Altenburg had
400,000 thalers of paper money when the treasury
receipts reached only 874,192 thalers, and there
were 950,000 thalers (more than $600,000) of this
irredeemable paper in Anhalt alone. These modest
figures seem insignificant by the side of the
3,000,000,000 of paper money of the Russian
empire, which would like to appear less majestic
in this respect. If France, at the close of a dis-
astrous war, was compelled to carry such an
amount of paper, she did it only by maintaining
a larger specie reserve in the presence of wealth
treble the amount, and of a trade four times that
amount. She endeavored, besides, to resume her
normal condition by a prompt redemption of the
state's indebtedness to the bank of France. — The
two distinctive characteristics of paper money are,
that it is not redeemable in coin, and that, instead
of having public confidence for its limit, it is
imposed by authority, by means of forced cir-
culation and the usurpation of the power of
discharging debts. Bad as an instrument of com-
mercial credit, it becomes disastrous as an instru-
ment of public authority, unless it be lessened to
such an extent as to render only secondary ser-
vices. As soon as the attempt is made to use it
upon a very large scale, it leads to an abyss. –
Never more than in these later times have we seen
numerous states applying the dread remedy of
paper money upon a great scale. The United
States at the close of the war of secession,
Italy after gaining her independence, and France
when defeated by Prussia, have put themselves
side by side with Russia and Austria in the use
of this dangerous expedient. This affords us a
great lesson, for all these states were or are merely
endeavoring to escape from a false situation, whose
inconveniences they all appreciate. The old illu-
sions have disappeared: men no longer extol paper
money; they no longer see in it a source of wealth;
they appreciate better the elements which consti-
tute productive power; they know how often an
apparent economy is transformed into losses of
various kinds, whose amount far surpasses the
pretended benefit. —If we sum up the total
amount of paper money issued by the five powers
mentioned, we will find, after deducting the
amount of the specie reserve, that it amounted,
in 1873, to $250,000,000,000. This was not one-
Seventieth part of the accumulated wealth of these
states; as a pretended increase of productive
power, therefore, paper money is a feeble bene-
fit, entirely counterbalanced by the trouble it
causes in circulation. The measure is already
full, and can not be increased. The common
efforts of all civilized nations are directed toward
a reduction of the amount of paper money. But
should not this necessary reduction of notes ren-
der those more circumspect who, acknowledging
only gold as a medium of circulation, would run
the risk of destroying the necessary equilibrium
between business and money? (See MONEY AND
ITs SUBSTITUTEs.) L. WolowsRI.
PARAGUAY (Republic of). Paraguay was
one of the numerous provinces included in the
vice-royalty of Buenos Ayres, which comprised
the Spanish-American possessions connected by
the Rio de la Plata with the Atlantic Ocean. Like
all the other Spanish colonies of Central and
South America, Paraguay, when the cry of inde-
pendence resounded throughout the American
continent, succeeded in shaking off the yoke of
the mother country, almost without a struggle,
in 1810. But this province, which had already
had its separate history in the past, a strange his-
tory and one entirely different from that of any
PARAGUAY.
49
other state, also contributed to the revolution
which it had just accomplished, features which
contrasted in a most striking manner with those
of the other republics of La Plata. — A few words
here about the past. Paraguay, like the greater
part of South America, was conquered to the
crown of Spain, about the middle of the sixteenth
century, by the hardy adventurers who, on the
heels of Columbus, Cortez, Pizarro and Americus
Vespucius, had cast themselves upon the new
world, as ardent in their endeavors to despoil
and enslave the aborigines as to convert them to
the Christian faith. But in these remote coun-
tries, in which relations with Europe were almost
impossible, the religious element soon prevailed
over the political element, and the powerful com-
pany of Jesus which, since 1588, had through its
missions planted the germs of refinement of man-
ners and community life in these countries, ob-
tained, in 1611, the privilege of governing Para-
guay, under the suzerainty paramount of Spain.
— This government of the Jesuits established a
pure theocracy in Paraguay, and maintained it
with firmness, moderation and success during
more than a century and a half, until the year
1767, when the society was expelled under the
ministry of the count of Aranda. We can not
here undertake to defend theocratic government,
as both experience and reason demonstrate that
human societies develop only under the influence
of ideas of progress and liberty. We must note,
also, that individual action, under the enervat-
ing régime of their vast conventual organization,
no longer had the energetic stimulus of the feel-
ing of ownership or property. But, when we
consider the savage state of the inhabitants, it is
impossible to deny that the Jesuits worked a mar-
velous transformation during their prolonged
domination. If they concerned themselves more
about the souls than the intellects of the aborig-
ines, if their religion itself was a sort of paganism,
tending to divert the natives because external in
form in almost everything, they nevertheless bent
these large and lazy children to the law of labor;
and it is a demonstrated fact that the agricul-
ture of Paraguay was checked after the expulsion
of the company, and that even to this day it has
not regained its former development, so that nu-
merous localities, formerly well cultivated, are
now abandoned. What is specially worthy of
note is, that the rule of the Jesuits left a strong
impression upon their minds, and that respect for
authority remained the heritage of the country
when the declaration of its independence handed
it over to the experiment of a republican form of
government. Nor were its efforts in this direc-
tion long continued : while everywhere else,
throughout Spanish America, the people sought
their way amid endless commotions, the people of
Paraguay found theirs without hesitation and
without groping; or rather, as immutably disci-
plined disciples of the Jesuit fathers, the people of
Paraguay allowed themselves to be led without a
shadow of resistance, by the energetic man who
123 VOL. III. — 4
took their destiny in his hands. With the aid of
the patriots of Buenos Ayres, Paraguay had over-
thrown the Spanish domination in the month of
May, 1811; a junta had been established, and the
victorious insurgents gave the highest place to
Doctor Francia, who had taken no part in these
events, but whom they regarded as the only Para-
guayan capable of directing public affairs. — In
fact, from the moment that Doctor Francia was
accorded a place in the new republic, he became
everything: he first presided over the junta, then
when a congress had established, at his sugges-
tion, a government with two consuls, he filled
One of the consular chairs, which had been called
by the names of Caesar and Pompey. Soon after,
in 1814, the chair of Pompey, which had been
only an embarrassment, was removed from the
hall of congress, and Francia was named dictator
for three years. Finally, the assembly conferred
perpetual dictatorship upon him. Thus was the
republic of Paraguay governed until the year
1840, when the dictator, weighed down with
years, but ever feared, respected and obeyed as
a god, was called from the throne and from the
world. — Absolute power was not exercised dur-
ing so many years without falling into excesses.
Francia, who had obtained supreme power at the
age when passions are extinct, and who had im-
mediately renounced all taste for gaming and sen-
sual indulgence, hitherto the sole object of his
life, abandoned himself to the sombre passion of
old men, vengeance. He was sure of the submis-
sion of the people, but he wished to inspire fear,
and he cared little whether he was hated or not.
Those who had known him best, those who, in
the beginning of his career, had helped to bring
him forward, and whose jealousy had been ex-
cited by his new greatness, were the more espe-
cial objects of his pitiless spite. Under pretext
of conspiracy, his old friends were imprisoned,
judged by him alone, and executed. His dicta-
torship was a veritable reign of terror, and even
to-day scarcely any trace can be found of the
bloody executions he prescribed, as his written
orders were returned to him after the execution,
and by him immediately destroyed. —Francia had,
we may add, no regard whatever for human life,
and this is the odious feature of his dictatorship;
but his cruelty, his strange and fantastic humor,
did not constitute the entire man, for whose con-
tinued power there would be no pretext, even in
Paraguay, if he were not possessed of certain
striking public virtues and of extraordinary gov-
erning qualities. The old dictator, with a precon-
ceived system, devoted himself to what he be-
lieved to be the interest of Paraguay. Much bet.
ter informed than any of his countrymen, he took
everything into his own hands, always knowing
the end which he wished to attain. Without
ministers, without counselors, without confidants,
he had with him only a secretary of the lowest
rank, called actuario, who recorded his wishes,
without pretending to influence them. He was
ever disinterested: he said that the state stood
50
PARAGUAY.
more in need of money than he did, and of the
9,000 piastres assigned him by congress he never
took more than 3,000 piastres a year. Such being
his own practice, Francia impressed upon his
whole administration rules of austere probity
which singularly contributed to render his name
popular. —The dictator's policy was very simple;
it was the policy of isolation. He aimed at main-
taining Paraguay free not only from all con-
tact with Europe, but also and especially from
all intercourse with the ancient provinces of
the vice-royalty of Buenos Ayres. There was
never a shadow of indecision in his conduct, in
this regard. Despite all the attempts of the
governments that succeeded one another in the
Argentine Republic, he never would admit that the
autonomy of Paraguay could be broken, and in
the last years of his life he even refused to exam-
ine the pressing demands addressed to him on this
subject by Rosas, who was then at the height of
his power. This had been somewhat the policy
of the Jesuits; but Francia, who was thoroughly
imbued with the anti-Catholic ideas of the eight-
eenth century, had not the religious motive of his
predecessors. He wished to defend himself against
liberty, which, in fact, did not work wonders in
the Argentine countries, where Rosas had inflicted
upon the people a dictatorship more severe than
that of Francia himself, without giving, in ex-
change, the profound peace which can scarcely
be said to have been interrupted, during the thirty
years of Francia's rule, by a few aggressions of
the savages from the desert. — The death of Fran-
cia, which occurred in 1840, left the work which
he had created without a guide. But after him,
in default of statesmen, there remained the people
whom he had trained to obedience, and who,
faithful to their tranquil habits, passed over the
period of transition to a new government without
any trouble. They remembered what had been
done in 1810; a general constituent assembly was
convoked, elected by universal suffrage, and com-
posed of five hundred members. This assembly
appointed two consuls to govern the republic,
Don Carlos-Antonio Lopez, a wealthy landed pro-
prietor, and Don Mariano-Roque Alonzo, com-
mander-in-chief of the army, who had been called
by the voice of the public to provide for the most
urgent wants of the government, and for the con-
vocation of the representatives. The powers given
to the consuls were to expire at the end of three
years; and Superiority on the one hand, and defer-
ence on the other, were so firmly established, that
the three years elapsed without the least collision.
But in 1844, when the assembly met again, it hap-
pened, as in the time of Francia’s administration,
that One of the consuls absorbed the other. An-
tonio Lopez was named president for ten years.—
The presidency of Paraguay became a real dy-
nasty. When his constitutional term had expired,
Lopez wished to be succeeded by his son, Don
Francisco-Salano Lopez, and the assembly very
graciously lent itself to this notion. But Gen.
Lopez declined the honor tendered him, and his
refusal does not seem to have displeased the head
of his family, who willingly allowed himself to
be renominated. It was not until 1862, on the
death of Antonio Lopez, that the congress finally
called Don Francisco-Salano Lopez to the decen-
nial presidency. — The elevation to power of
Don Carlos-Antonio Lopez had been of immense
benefit to Paraguay, and his son, still more
completely freed from the traditions of Francia,
and more inclined to the civilization of Europe,
which he had visited, promised to continue the
benefit. Don Antonio had governed Paraguay
with mildness, and his patriarchal justice was
full of mercy. Of the foreign policy of Fran-
cia he had retained only his determined reso-
lution to maintain the autonomy of Paraguay,
and to preserve it against the attempted invasion
of its turbulent neighbors. He would not at any
cost return into the distracted pale 6f the old vice-
royalty of Buenos Ayres, and exchange the order
and prosperity which his fellow-countrymen en-
joyed for the deceptive unity of the Argentine
provinces, a unity fruitful only in endless civil
strife. But what was his personal work, and
remains his title to honor, is the intention he
formed, and afterward accomplished, of demol-
ishing the Chinese wall which Francia, after the
example of the Jesuits, his predecessors, had built
around Paraguay. He above all wished to open
communications with Europe. Owing to the
persistence with which he pressed the conclusion
of treaties of navigation and commerce with
France, England, the United States, Brazil, etc.,
the isolation of Paraguay was in part done away
with in 1860. This isolation was due in great
part to the very situation of Paraguay. It is a
vast plateau of arable land, watered by mighty
rivers and numerous streams, but elevated above
all the other countries of South America, situated
in the very centre of the continent, far from any
sea, and has communication with the other states
only by means of its two rivers, the Parana and
the Paraguay. The fixed purpose of the two Lo-
pezes was to secure the freedom of navigation of
the two rivers. The second Lopez established it
by a decree. He also had a railroad constructed.
Very much inclined to the economic progress of
Europe, whence he had returned decorated (an
immense prestige in America), he had resolved to
make of Paraguay a state of large resources, and
economic works, after the fashion of France in
1852 and the succeeding years, whose political
constitution he pretty closely copied. He acted
as the ruler of a country of 901,640 square kilo-
metres and 1,337,000 inhabitants. The revenues
were increased to 12,450,000 francs, derived prin-
cipally from the sale of the herb maté (Paraguay
tea), from the domains (over 8,000,000 francs), and
customs duties. Paraguay had no public debt,
and its 4,500,000 francs of paper money were se-
cured by a specie reserve of an equal amount. Its
imports amounted to over 8,000,000 francs, and
its exports to 7,000,000. — Lopez's position as head
of the state was a unique one ; less than 7,000
PARAGUAY.
51
square kilometres of this vast country belonged
to private parties; the remainder was state domain
administered by Lopez. All the farmers were
therefore histenants, so to speak; the manufactures
which they produced were his; Paraguay was but
an immense farm in his hands. Its means, how-
ever, were not in keeping with the greatness of its
natural resources: these fertile plains were worked
with the spade; the farmers who used the plow
were few. There was no industry but that which
was improvised for the necessities of war. The
navigation of the Paraguay was at the mercy
of Buenos Ayres, which commands the mouth
of the river. The hostility of the Argentine Re-
public was surpassed by that of Brazil, which,
for the ownership of vague and contested ter-
ritory, drew the other states bordering on the
Parana into a coalition which overcame Lopez.
— Brazil demanded the left bank of the Para-
guay (1864), and the Argentine Republic the
right bank, which is possessed by Uruguay. It
was against Uruguay that the coalition was first
formed. The two greedy governments, refusing
the intervention of Italy, put in power, in oppo-
isition to the moderate (blanco) government which
regularly governs Uruguay, the revolutionary
(colorado) party, which invaded the republic.
Lopez, who was friendly to the blancos, felt him-
self threatened, and while refusing an alliance
with Uruguay, he protested against the invasion
of the Brazilian squadron in lower Paraguay,
Nov. 17, 1864. He declared war against Brazil,
and invaded the Brazilian territory. Flores, the
colorado, who, with his Indians and half-breeds,
..and the assistance of the allies, took possession of
Montevideo, joined the coalition. This struggle
of one against three, of a great military farm
against three nations provided with every indus-
trial and maritime resource, moved Europe.
Lopez was on good terms with the governments
of Europe, and also with the United States; but
American intervention was rejected by Brazil.
This empire, which evidently dragged the two re-
publics of La Plata into the struggle against their
will, pushed matters to extremes. Lopez, five
times conquered, five times repaired his losses by
a general conscription, comprising women and
children. He was finally captured and killed.
There are few examples in history of a war so
desperate, and so complete a ruin (1865). The
population of Paraguay fell from 1,330,000 to
500,000, and the revenues from 13,000,000 francs
to 2,000,000. — It seems that the conquerors
wished partially to justify their ordinary, and in
this case plausible, pretense of making war only
in the interest of civilization and liberty; for, after
having stipulated for the territorial acquisitions
which they had long demanded, they left the Par-
aguayans free to manage their own home govern-
ment. By the treaty of Suret, concluded with Bra-
zil and the Argentine Republic May 1, 1865, and
ratified June 20, 1870, Paraguay was allowed to re-
tain only the territory situated between the Para-
guay and Parana rivers. Hence the area of the
republic is at present only about 172,500 square
kilometres. A constitution, proclaimed Nov. 25,
1875, provided for a president for four years, and
a legislative congress composed of a senate and a
chamber of representatives. It is substantially a
reproduction of the constitution of the United
States. – Examples of such efforts as Paraguay
now made to repair so complete a catastrophe are
as rare as the catastrophe itself. The government
of Paraguay proposed the sale of the immense na-
tional property, which comprised almost its entire
territory. But these lands had to be hypothe-
cated to guarantee a loan of £25,000,000, which
was effected in England. In 1862 there was no
public debt: in 1870 it amounted, besides the Eng-
lish loan, to 1,180,000,000 francs. Disorganiza-
tion was such that the government had lost the
titles to its property; a special commission had to
be appointed to enforce the rights of the state.
The instruments of production and the products
themselves were everywhere damaged, when they
were not destroyed. The railroad had to be sup-
plied anew with rolling stock, workshops and
stations. They had to rebuild public edifices, re-
establish tribunals, issue paper money, take meas-
ures for the representation of Paraguay at the
international exposition of Cordova, and to en-
courage immigration. Slavery was abolished
(1871), the standing army reduced, and foreigners
admitted to the enjoyment of all the rights of na.
tives, but not to high political and administrative
functions.” — BIBLIOGRAPHY. L. A. DemerSay,
* The ministry consists of five secretaries, presiding over
the departments of the interior, of finance, of worship and
justice, of war, and of foreign affairs. For administrative
purposes the country is divided into seventy departments
(departementos), governed by commanders. — The public
revenue of Paraguay is derived mainly from customs duties.
In 1881 they yielded £82,548. In 1882 the expenditure was
estimated to amount to £62,685, inclusive of interest on
the debt, army expenses and other items. – The republic
had no debt until the war of 1865–70, which led to the rais-
ing of large internal loans. In 1871 and 1872, the govern-
ment contracted two foreign loans, the first of the nominal
amount of £1,000,000, and the second of £2,000,000, each
bearing 8 per cent. interest. The loans, issued at the price
of 80, were hypothecated on the public lands of Paraguay,
valued at £19,380,000. Payment of both interest and sinking
funds on the two loans ceased in 1874. No part of the pre-
vious payments, according to the report of the select par-
liamentary committee on foreign loans, 1875, “was provid-
ed for by the government of Paraguay, but the whole was
derived from the proceeds of the loans themselves. Since
these funds so set apart have been exhausted, no payment
on account of interest or sinking fund has been made by the
government of Paraguay.” According to treaty stipulations
arising out of the war of 1865–70, Paraguay is indebted to
Brazil to the amount of 200,000,000 pesos, or £40,000,000; to
the Argentine Confederation to the amount of 35,000,000
pesos, orºg?,000,000, and to Uruguay to the amount of 1,000,000
pesos, or £200,000, being a total war debt of 236,000,000 pesos,
or £47,200,000. – The military force in the war against the
united armies of Brazil, Uruguay and the Argentine Repub-
lic, carried on during the years 1865–70, comprised 60,000
men, including 10,000 cavalry and 5,000 artillery. These
troops were afterward altogether disbanded, and the entire
force in 1877 consisted of 185 foot soldiers, forming the gar-
rison of the capital. The permanent army is only 500 men.
– The frontiers of the republic, not well defined previous to
the war of 1865–70—large territories considered part of it
being claimed by Brazil, Bolivia and the Argentine Confed-
§2.
PARASITES.
Histoire physiqué, économiqué et politique du Para-
guay et des établissements des Jesuites, 2 vols., 8vo,
Paris, 1865; Alfred Du Graty, La République de
Paraguay, 8vo, Bruxelles, 1865; K. Johnston,
Paraguay, (in “Geographical Magazine,” July,
1875), London, 1875; A. J. Kennedy, La Plata,
Brazil and Paraguay, during the War, 8vo, Lon-
don, 1869; Chas. Mansfield, Paraguay, Brazil
and the Plate, new edit., by the Rev. Charles
Kingsley, 8vo, London, 1866; G. F. Masterman,
Seven. Eventful Years in Paraguay, 8vo, London,
1869; M. G. and E. T. Mulhall, Handbook to the
River Plate Republics, etc., and the Republics of
Uruguay and Paraguay, 8vo, London, 1875;
Commander Thomas G. Page, La Plata, the Ar-
gentine Confederation and Paraguay: Narrative
of the Exploration of the Tributaries of the River
La Plata and adjacent countries during the years
1853–6, under the orders of the United States
Government, 8vo, New York, 1867; Charles
Quentin, Le Paraguay, 8vo, Paris, 1866; George
Thompson, The Paraguayan War, with sketches
of the history of Paraguay and of the manners
and customs of the people, 8vo, London, 1869;
Joh. Jac. v. Tschudi, Reisen durch Suedamerika,
2 vols., 8vo, Leipzig, 1866; Chas. A. Washburn,
The History of Paraguay, with notes of personal
observations, 2 vols., 8vo, Boston and New York,
1871; Fregeiro, Diccionario geografico e historico
del Rio de La Plata, etc., 1878.
CHAS. REYBAUD.
eration—were fixed by a treaty of alliance between Brazil,
the Argentine Confederation and Uruguay, signed May 1,
1865, to be between 22° and 27° south latitude, and 57° and
60° west longitude, of the meridian of Paris. By the final
adjustment of the boundaries between Paraguay and neigh-
boring states the area of the former is now estimated at
91,970 square miles. – An enumeration made by the govern.
ment in 1857 showed the population to number 1,337,439
souls. – At the beginning of 1873 the number of inhabitants,
according to an official return, was reduced to 221,079 souls,
comprising 28,746 men and 106,254 women over fifteen years
of age, with 86,079 children, the enormous disproportion be-
tween the sexes, as well as the vast decrease of the popula-
tion, telling the results of the war. Since that date, another
enumeration was taken, in 1876, the returns of which state
the population at 293,844, being an increase of 72,765 in three
years. About one-third of the inhabitants are living in the
central province, containing the capital, the rest being spread
thinly as settlers over the remaining portion of cultivated
country. Nearly three-fourths of the entire territory is na-
tional property. — The chief articie of foreign commerce of
Paraguay is the yerba maté, or Paraguayan tea, made of the
leaves of the Ilea: Paraguayensis tree, dried and reduced to
powder, which are extensively consumed in all the states of
South America. About 7,600,000 pounds of tobacco were
exported in 1881. However, the total commerce of the re-
public is very small, the aggregate of imports and exports
not amounting, on the average, to more than half a million
sterling per annum. In 1881 the imports amounted to
£255,600, and the exports to £362,400. The imports are de-
rived to the extent of three-fourths from Great Britain, and
one-fourth from France and Germany. The British imports
are passing entirely through the territories of Brazil and the
Argentine Confederation, and since the year 1862, when a
few articles of machinery and furniture, valued at £1,764,
arrived from England, there has been no direct intercourse
between Paraguay and the United Kingdom. — The only
railway in Paraguay is a short line of forty-five English
miles, from Asuncion, the capital, to Paraguay. There are
no lines of telegraph but one at the side of this railway.
—F., M. -
PARASITES, Social. The parasite is one
who lives at the expense of other men. The num-
ber of parasites is so great, and their place in this
world so considerable, that we can not speak of
the general economy of Societies without con-
cerning ourselves with them. No human being
can live unless he has becóme exclusive master,
that is to say, proprietor, of some portion of mat-
ter, be it but the piece of bread or of fruit which he
is on the point of eating, or of the clothing which
covers him. Some men live by the honest acqui-
sition and accumulation of property, or by the just
conservation of property previously acquired;
these constitute the useful and active part of the
human race. Others live on the resources of
their neighbors; but it is none the less necessary
that they should obtain the proprietorship of the
things indispensable to their subsistence. A man
may live by the use and consumption of the
things or the product of the things which he has
previously obtained by occupation, or which
have been acquired, preserved or accumulated by
virtue of the right of inheritance. We call indi-
viduals thus provided, proprietors, capitalists.
The usage of speech reserves these names to per-
sons who possess more material objects than are
needed to satisfy the immediate wants of life. It
is not customary, though he really is one, to call
a proprietor the unfortunate man who possesses
merely his clothing or his food for the day. A
man may own nothing, either in capital producing
an income or in stocks of provisions or other
property, or he may possess Only an insufficient
quantity of these, and yet live upon his own re-
sources. Within each one of us there is a power-
ful instrument of acquisition capable of furnishing
material objects for our enjoyment. This inner
most personal force, superior if not to all, at
least to the usual and probable, risks of chance, is
labor; in other words, the development of our
powers of activity. Through this force we are
enabled to render useful service to ourselves and
others; and we acquire with certainty Our share
of property by the exchange of services, and acci.
dentally by occupation. When a man lives nei-
ther by his own labor nor capital, a term in which,
for greater convenience, we include all property
previously acquired actually laid by, he must
live by the labor or capital of others. Every man
belongs then, necessarily, to one of these classes;
capitalists, workmen, parasites. We are Wrong in
speaking of three classes: in truth, what are called
classes here are only three attributes, three aspects
of humanity. Two of these qualities, or all three
of them, are often united in the same person.
When we range men in these three classes, we
take principally into consideration which of the
three qualities is predominant in each of them. —
Mirabeau, in the discussion on the tithes in France,
uttered the following words, which provoked the
murmurs of the assembly, “It is time to renounce
the prejudices of a proud ignorance which dis-
dains the words wages and wage-workers. I know
of but three ways of existing in Society: a man
PARASITES.
53
must be a beggar, a thief or a wage-receiver.
Proprietors themselves are merely the first among
wage-receivers; what we commonly call his prop-
erty is nothing but the price which Society pays
him for the distribution which he is intrusted
with making to other individuals, in return for
his consumption and his expenses. Proprietors
are the agents and stewards of the Social body.”
The following day the abbé Duplaquet, on re-
signing from a priory, said: “I commit myself to
the justice of the nation ; considering, whatever
M. de Mirabeau may have said on the subject,
that I am too old to earn my wages, too honest to
steal, and that the services which I have rendered
should excuse me from begging.” This witty rep-
artee of the abbé was misleading; the right to the
continuation of his wages was already earned, for
the reward for past services is one of the elements
of honest wages. The assembly, therefore, did
wrong to receive it with murmurs, and to take
offense at the term wage-receivers, which its great
orator, obeying the luminous boldness of his good
sense, tried to free from an unmerited reproach.
Mirabeau’s classification approached the truth,
but did not reach it; proprietors are not wage
workers; beggars and thieves constitute the princi-
pal branches of parasites, but do not include them
all. Mirabeau was right in saying, with the
physiocrates, that, being the agents and stewards
of the social body, proprietors distributed wages
for their consumption and their expenses: the
inaccuracy consisted in pretending that they re-
ceived social wages for that distribution. This
was to confound the origin of its acquisition with
the use of the thing, and to take account only of
the service rendered by property, and not of its
right over the thing. Owners of property gain
the right to wages only in so far as to the charac-
ter of proprietor is joined the character of work-
man, which, it is true, is usually added and in
varying proportions, but which corresponds to a
different order of relations. Owners, masters of
their property, use it to suit themselves, in their
own interest, at their own risk; the utility accru-
ing indirectly to society from this use is the only
service inherent in their quality as owners, and
calls for no reward. It is in this use itself that
they find the pay for this service. When society
guarantees them the peaceable, permanent pos-
session and the free enjoyment of their property,
it does not pay them wages; it fulfills its own
duty by causing the rights of owners to be re-
spected; they it is who, by paying their taxes and
bearing other public burdens, pay Society for the
service it renders them by guarding and guaran-
teeing their property. They distribute wages only
because these wages bring them a profit by means
of the values in things or services, of which wages
are the representation, and the thing given in
exchange for. The social utility of property is
the consequence of its right, but neither its basis
nor its measure. To lift the respect due to prop-
erty to its true height, it is necessary to go to the
length of Saying that even if property remained
idle, unproductive or badly used, it would still
be sacred for the same reason and in the same
degree as if employed in useful consumption and
productive expenditure. Very distinct in theory,
the quality of the proprietor and that of the wage-
earner are linked together in the concrete realities
of life by numerous points of contact, and are
frequently found united in the same individual.
Every workman possesses in his own person an
immaterial capital, which consists in his capacity
for labor. It is composed of his natural activity,
his theoretical instruction, his practical skill; the
direction which his moral development imparts
to his powers must also be included as of great
importance. Even if we confine ourselves to the
consideration of material objects which may be-
come property, it is not necessary, in order to
find workmen capitalists, to consider only great
manufacturers, etc., operating on a large stock
previously accumulated. The artisan who has
become owner of his tools and furniture is a
capitalist, though on a modest scale; for he pos-
sesses articles which enable him to live, and
things which he can use without destroying, and
which will continue to be ulterior instruments of
gain to him. In proportion as his property in-
creases, as his tools become more numerous or
better, as his stock of provisions accumulates for
future consumption, his character as capitalist be-
comes more evident. — There are capitalists who
live only on their capital or on their income; but
they are in the minority. The majority employ
a certain amount of paid labor in giving life to,
fructifying and increasing their property. Of
all the sophisms used to pervert the understand-
ing of the public sentiment, one of the falsest
and most productive of danger is that which,
exalting labor at the expense of property, endeav-
ors to range capitalists among parasites so far as
that part of their fortune not produced by actual
labor is concerned. The full and peaceful enjoy-
ment of property, accompanied by its essential
character of indefinite transmissibility, would be
the wisest of Calculations and the most useful of
combinations, even if it were only the result of
human convention. But property is more than
this: it is a right; and, to consider it only in its
relations with labor, it is the right of labor itself.
Take away the certainty of being recognized as
the master of goods legitimately acquired, and
you break the spring of the activity which ac-
quires them; deprive the father of a family of the
assurance of transmitting the property acquired
or preserved for his children, and you have
destroyed the family spirit, and with it saving,
temperance, providence, resignation, and plans
for the future. Man is born for labor; but he
craves repose, leisure, and the serene and disin-
terested culture of the mind. To stigmatize in
theory, or disturb in practice, the past of which
capitalists are the depositaries, would be the death
of the present and the future. Labor, which is
future property, has confidence in its forces only
through the stability of property, which is, mainly,
bj4
PARASITES.
past labor. — The parasite uses his neighbor's
goods, that is, his property or his labor, without
giving in return anything or any service. But it
does not follow because an object was acquired
parasitically, that it was illegitimately obtained.
Ownership of things originates in several legiti-
mate ways. Its first source is in the right of
occupation; by virtue of which a vacant thing is
appropriated by the person who first takes it.
This origin excludes all idea of a parasitic acqui-
sition, since it relates only to things to which no
other person had acquired a right. Things already
occupied can only be acquired by transmission.
Transmission is legitimately effected in three dif-
ferent ways. One is inheritance, which, consider-
ing as a unit the natural association of relation-
ship or affection, transfers the property of a de-
ceased person to his heirs, by title of the civil con-
tinuation of his person. The heir is not a para-
site, since he acquires in virtue of his own right,
which is the complement and consequence of the
full and entire right of his parent. Another way
is exchange, through which property is acquired
for an equivalent furnished in things or in serv-
ices. Thanks to exchange, each man need owe to
himself alone the means of living and Owning
property, and thus obtain independence and dig-
nity from his own free acts. The third legitimate
way of transmission is the way of gift. This is
the only source of existence regularly open to
parasite life. Outside of these four modes of
acquisition, morality and law recognize no other.
Robbery, rapine, cheating, extortion, confiscation,
war, every act which takes another's goods by
fraud or violence, should be ranked as a crime or
misdemeanor. There are some distinctions to be
made on the subject of confiscation and war,
which may be legitimate by way of exception,
but which are then resolved into forms of ex-
change, and as a reparation for damage caused.
—Parasites live irregularly, by misdemeanors, or
regularly by gift. With regard to parasites of the
first order, Mirabeau was right when he called
them robbers; it is for the penal laws to settle
with them. These parasites are found in every
station of life, in all degrees of the social scale,
and even among the wealthy. To live by confis-
cation, to grow rich by unjust privileges, to re-
ceive pay for work which is never done, for a
place which is never filled, to break a contract or
one’s word, to appropriate by violence, by cun-
ning, by credit or by power, the goods, the work,
the liberty, the rights of others, is to take the place
of the lowest of parasites without any exhibition
of shame. — Society, in its relations with this cor-
rupt and corrupting class of men, has duties of
various kinds to fulfill. The first is to punish
them; the second is to see that the punishments
inflicted furnish security and serve as an example
to the rest of the people; the third is to turn the
penalties into an effort to reform the guilty, and
above all to prevent their becoming, through the
fault of institutions, a new cause of individual
corruption and social danger. With these public
duties is connected everything which relates to
penal legislation, to the administration of repres-
sive justice, to the management of prisons, to
banishment, and to the penitentiary system. Too
mild punishment disarms and discourages society.
Excessive severity destroys the sentiment of jus-
tice, and causes it to degenerate by putting ven-
geance in its place. It invites impunity. The
cause of the greatest moral disturbance is to be
found in a cowardly complaisance toward wealthy
parasites, whom their social position raises up to
serve as an example, which position they have
not been able to protect from the baseness of liv-
ing at the expense of others. To surround illy
acquired wealth with honor, to lavish unmerited
bounties, to urge to Cupidity, to arouse vicious
inclinations, as happens, for instance, when the
official character is soiled by connecting it with
lotteries and gaming establishments, is to widen
the breach for the invasion of parasites. The
want of enlightenment and mistakes of calculation
lead society to such a result, when, even without
immoral intent, it combines or manages its insti-
tutions in such a manner as to take from the
common fund, made up of the contributions of
all, the means to support monopolies, privileges
or franchises, which return nothing to compen-
sate therefor, monopolies created in certain kinds of
labor, services, commerce, industry. If we ex-
amine the protective system closely, it will not be
difficult to perceive that its principal wrong is
that it establishes and develops artificially para-
sitic privileges, covering them, often in good
faith, and without understanding their real effect,
with the cloak of general utility. It is not given
to human laws to remedy everything; and, what-
ever be their wisdom, a part of the race will al-
ways live on the spoils taken from the other part.
But we are justified in wishing that laws and gov-
ernments should have a sound understanding of
what is just, and should unite to the sagacity
which points out evil, the probity to hunt it
down, and the constancy to stop its progress as
far as lies in the power of man.— The parasites who
live on gifts, and whose existence thus depends
on a regular title, even in the case when irregular
causes have given birth to this title, are a curious
and difficult subject of study. All the questions
of pauperism belong to this subject, but they are
not the only ones that belong to it. Gift, a legiti-
mate source of acquisition, is an indispensable
element in the harmony of society. It is a result
of the completeness of the power of the proprietor,
who is free to deprive himself of his property
gratuitously, without receiving anything in re-
turn. To receive gratuitously the services or the
property of another is a parasitic act, the charac-
ter of which is, determined by the circumstances
which accompany it, and which is, in itself,
neither good nor bad. The name parasite is
given to persons who, by habit and these para-
sitic acts, live altogether or principally by dona-
tion. The moral disfavor which custom attaches
to the acceptance of the Services or property of
PARASITES.
55
others without giving an equivalent therefor,
arises from an honorable susceptibility, and an-
swers to a respectable instinct of dignity, but is
not always just. This acceptance, if confined
strictly to its economic meaning, should be morally
neutral, in spite of the idea of inferiority and de-
pendence which it implies; it is right in Some
cases, but wrong in others, to make such gratui-
tous acceptance an expression of contempt. What
is beyond all controversy, is, that we must not
apply the harsh term beggar to all those who live
by gift. The idea of mendicancy is connected
with the idea of a permanent condition of solici-
tation based on the allegation of entire helpless-
ness to procure the necessaries of life in any other
way. The man is not a mendicant who re-
ceives the donation without asking for it, espe-
cially he is not one who receives it as a conse-
quence of affection existing between him and the
donor, or as the satisfaction of an obligation con-
necting the donor with him. Beggary is con-
founded with rapine and robbery when it exacts
assistance instead of requesting it. — Among those
who receive without giving, and who live on the
substance of others without furnishing anything
of their own in return, must be reckoned nearly
all the human race during the period of childhood.
Our first years are passed in absolute impotence
as far as productive labor is concerned. This
time is devoted to physical, intellectual and moral
development, destined, no doubt, to create in
those who reach the age of maturity an imma-
terial capital of force and activity, but which may
never have this result. The age of productive
labor is reached at different periods by different
persons. Ordinarily it commences too early in
the poor families of artisans and agricultural
laborers, who hasten to employ their children in
a lucrative occupation, while the more provident
or well-to-do families are not so hasty to consume
the present at the expense of the future. The
quality of capitalist belongs to children only in
exceptional cases. The number of those who are
born with a fortune of their own and who can be
supported and reared by means of their own prop-
erty, is extremely small, even in the wealthy class.
If we consider children in individual isolation
only, they must be called parasites, for they live
solely on the resources of others given to them;
but they figure in society as members of the col-
lective being called the family, of which they
form an integral part by right; and the family
itself would become a parasite, if by impotence
or bad will, it should allow the cost of their sub-
sistence to fall on others. The child lives at the
expense of the family without giving any actual
return, unless in affection, in happiness, in moral-
ity, in hopes, precious values indeed, but which
can not be measured. Later, the child should
make a return for the assistance and services ren-
dered it in advance. Its right to existence rests
on a two-fold foundation: on the duties which the
instincts of Our nature engrave on our hearts and
dictate to the positive law; and on the continued
mutuality of obligations, which, contracted to
Some, are paid to others, converting our debts to
Our fathers and mothers into credits to our chil-
dren. The civil law obliges parents, fathers and
children, the ascending and descending lines, to
Support each other reciprocally. The natural law
extends beyond this circle of family duties. – The
family is not the only collective being on which
the responsibility rests of supporting its members.
The same duty is imposed, in different measures
and proportions, on numberless associations into
which men are collected. There is a class of as-
Sociations, such as the societies of mutual aid,
whose capital, formed by means of individual
Contributions, is intended for those of its members
who are in distress or who reach a certain age, or
a certain time of service. The assistance de-
Imanded in this case is not a donation, it is a
Credit, a regular and foreseen employment of a
common Saving collected for this purpose. The
party who receives aid here is in no way a para-
site, not even with regard to those particular
bodies, so long as he receives his share only after
having fulfilled the conditions of his contract.
He becomes a parasite with reference to the asso-
ciation, if, without having furnished his due, he
receives from its bounty, instead of from his own
contribution, the assistance which is given him.
But the individual thus assisted is not a parasite
on the rest of society, since he lives on resources
which the rest of society did not contribute to
provide for him. A county undertakes the sup-
port of its poor. These are parasites with ref-
erence to it, but not to the rest of the country,
which is not called on to do anything for them.
The same must be said of individuals assisted
by private charity; which, by taking them in
charge, relieves Society in general to that extent.
It is to be remarked, however, that, as the re-
Sources of private charity are limited, the parasites
who exhaust it prevent it from being extended to
others who need it as much or more than they;
and in this manner they contribute to increase the
number of the needy. It is a fundamental truth,
too little recognized, that, different from other
duties, which have corresponding rights, there is
no right which corresponds to the duty of charity.
The rich man must relieve the poor without the
poor having any right as against the rich. Re-
ligion has admirable doctrines on this subject
which public law might profit by: while it teaches
charity to some, it commands gratitude and resig-
nation to others. Private charity is a debt of
conscience and love, and not a debt by right; it
does not obey precise rules, and is not governed
by the calculations of human prudence; it feels
that its most urgent cares, its most bountiful as-
sistance, its most affectionate consolations, should
be given to unmerited suffering, but it desires
to assist even those who have deserved their mis-
fortune by their faults. Thus, to extend its be-
nevolent duties, it is enough for charity to say
that each man ought to feel his weakness to be
such, that he should not arm himself arrogantly
ºf
56
PARASITES.
*
against indulgence. Charity has its eyes fixed,
not on what it gives, but on what it has itself re-
ceived. All men would be charitable if they
would remember the large number of services
which each one receives from his neighbors, no
matter how brilliant his actual situation may be.
There is not an individual who does not draw
abundantly from this large capital of the uni-
versal domain transmitted and increased from
generation to generation, and who does not take
much more from it than he can ever return to it.
We Owe too much to others to be authorized
to bargain our assistance to those whom it is
possible for us to aid. — Public charity is gov-
erned by narrower and more worldly rules than
private charity. Consequently, men correctly
cease to call it charity, and give it the more mod-
ern name of public assistance. Charity, which is
love, strips itself to give to others. When the
state gives and assists, it strips itself of nothing;
its action is limited to distributing in a certain
fashion the contributions which it levies on its
citizens. Not every gift is charity; the assist-
ance distributed by the state is only a branch of
the public administration. The only parasites at
the expense of the state should be the poor who
can not be properly cared for by their families,
associations or private charity. To live in a
purely gratuitous manner at the expense of the
state when not compelled to accept the gifts by
which it supports the needy and unfortunate, is to
belong to the worst class of parasites, to that class
of people who are able not to be parasites, a per-
verse class, a public pest, whose close relationship
with robbers we have previously pointed out, and
to which we need not return. It only remains
for us to speak of parasites who are really poor
people. State donations, like private gifts, are
essentially one-sided, in this sense, that the moral
duty imposed on the donor does not suppose any
right in the recipient. Where credit begins, dona-
tion ceases. It is the desire of humanity that hu-
man beings should not be left to perish of distress;
it is the dictate of prudence that a mass of men ex-
cited to disorder and crime by the spur of want
should not be left to increase in the bosom of soci-
ety; but the duty of the state to be humane and
prudent creates no right to demand its assistance.
The destructive sophism which converts want
into credit has been revived in our time under the
names of the right to existence, the right to labor,
the right to assistance. It has been frequently
refuted in this cyclopædia. (See ATELIERs;
CHARITY; CoMMUNISM; LABOR, RIGHT TO.) The
falsest Sophisms are generally the exaggerations
of a correct idea, or the improper generaliza-
tion of a particular truth. The numerous varie-
ties of the anti-social sophisms which parade the
name of socialism, place their point of support on
the undeniable theory of reparation of wrongs,
but they draw strange conclusions from this. By
attacking not only society, but also the law of
Sociality, the sacred foundation of Society, they
affect to see in the conditions of every-day life,
Such as it has been organized by the universal
Consent of nations, the abasement and ruin of in-
dividuals, instead of finding in it a fruitful and
efficient cause of their prosperity and develop.
ment. A proposition which remains true in spite
of the crookedness imparted to it by these soph-
isms, is this, that when suffering is born of the
sins of Society or governments and the vice of in-
stitutions and of laws, it is no longer a question
of humanity, decency and wisdom, but of a strict
Obligation of the state to alleviate it. It is no
longer a case of donation, but of credit. Society,
being held to repair its own wrongs, is not obliged
to Correct those which individuals inflict on them-
Selves, any more than those which they suffer
from others or from undeserved misfortune. It
would be to destroy the dignity, the liberty, the
responsibility of individuals, to transfer to the
Social body the task belonging to each one of
guarding, preserving and developing himself.
What Society owes its members, is, to protect and
guarantee the free exercise of their rights with all
its strength; its office is not to think, to will or to
act for them. The more liberty a state insures to
its citizens, the less attention it owes their inter-
ests, since it leaves these interests more completely
to the management and responsibility of the citi-
Zens themselves; if it interferes in private life and
exerts an influence in managing the property of
individuals, its responsibility to individuals in-
creases with every extension which it gives to its
guardianship. For Societies, as well as individ-
uals, to do good, is a Secondary duty; not to do
wrong is the first. The wants of a wise adminis-
tration counsel the state to assist the parasitic mass,
but the obligations not to create parasites itself,
an obligation a hundred times more serious and
binding, is antecedent to this. It should not act
like a surgeon who would first wound the passers
by, and then offer them his services. Society cre-
ates paupers, and consequently parasites, when it
turns from the straight road of justice, and,
changing the noble office of guaranteeing and pro-
tecting property into a tyranny, takes possession of
property and labor, or injures them by its exac-
tions: it creates paupers when it arrests or ham-
pers the free exercise of moral, intellectual or
physical activity, the natural expansion of labor,
the legitimate acquisition or transmission of prop-
erty; it also creates paupers when it offers a pre-
mium on vice, idleness and lack of courage, by
too great a readiness to grant relief. Society,
through the enormous power which it wields,
feeds and increases the evil when it distributes
imprudently what it believes to be its benefits.
The moderation in public assistance commanded
byprudence, rests also on another basis. The state,
which can levy only on the services and the prop-
erty of workmen and capitalists, should never for-
get that whatever it gives is necessarily taken
from the goods of its citizens; generosity at the
expense of others easily degenerates into spolia-
tion. — The assistance given to parasites is an ex.
pedient rather than a remedy. Social progress
PARDON.
57
consists, not in maintaining and supporting a
greater number of parasites, but in decreasing and
eliminating the parasites in existence. The per-
version of manners, the extinction or abasement
of the moral sense, makes most parasites. A bad
book, a vicious 'sophism, an evil example, creates
more IIlisery than hail, fire or famine. If it is
necessary, because they are men, to assist human
beings who consume without producing and re-
ceive without giving, it is imperative to attempt
their reformation and endeavor to make them
acquire property through morality and labor.
Next to the task of improving its institutions and
its laws in order to free itself from participation
in evil, society has no more important mission
than to obtain good results from good laws by
improving the morals of men. The amount of
misery is enormous, and alarms the most civilized
societies. The true problem would be to dry up
or lessen the thousand impure channels through
which it is formed and increased. Society should
by law leave religion free to propagate its princi-
ples; it should open Schools, make education and
enlightenment general, honor letters, sciences and
arts, elevate the moral sense, exalt disinterested-
ness, remunerate services rendered, give life to
indolence, smooth obstacles, remove all obstruc-
tions of the market. Its firm and vigorous hu-
manity should avoid, as far as possible, the de-
grading form of alms; it should without asperity,
uniting prudence to kindness, never forget that
severity is generally more merciful than weakness.
The danger is great, when the instinct of natural
dignity which finds unearned bread bitter, grows
weak and loses its honorable sensitiveness. The
loss of the feeling of responsibility in individuals
toward themselves, in families and other collective
bodies toward their members, throws into the ranks
of parasites persons of equivocal morality who find
it more convenient to receive aid than to work.
In the train of idleness follows covetousness; then
corruption, which, increasing more and more, im-
pels all to live at the expense of all. — The only
efficacious and honorable means of combating the
parasitic spirit, the last extremity of human abase-
ment, and assisting pauperism, is a gradual in-
crease of the freedom of labor and property. All
other methods serve simply to conjure the neces-
sities and dangers of to-day, without promising,
but often preparing, a worse to-morrow. When
workmen can display their activity in peace,
when capitalists can with confidence accumulate
and lay up their property, the products of which
will enrich all, the class of parasites decreases and
is quieted through the development of the other
two classes. Just as workmen and capitalists
prosper and suffer together, and as it would be to
impel them to suicide and to mutual oppres-
sion, to arouse rivalry and envy between them,
parasites should respect capitalists and laborers,
not only on account of moral obligation and the
command of positive law, but also from calcula-
tion of what is useful for themselves. Parasites
in fact or in intention, the unfortunates who are,
and the cowards who wish to be, parasites, would
be, like the rest of society, ruined by the despoil-
ing of those who labor and those who own prop-
erty. Swarms of rivals, left behind, would be
excited by the contagion of victory, and would
rise up as enemies and destroyers of the success
of the violence of a day. Ill gotten gains are not
easily kept. A few days of dissipation would
quickly throw back into misery those who had
escaped from it by detestable means. Their mo-
mentary triumph, by removing further from them
the capacity of suffering with dignity, would only
redouble their incapacity for labor and their help-
lessness to acquire property honestly. The man
accustomed to live only on others, destroys his
most lasting resources, if he ruins those who alone
are able to acquire and preserve. (See PAUPER-
ISM.) CH. RENOUARD.
PARD0N. Pardon is the remission, granted
by the sovereign or head of the state to a sen-
tenced person, of the penalty imposed on him by
the courts. Such penalty is sometimes replaced
by a less severe one. This is what is called a com-
mutation of sentence. — Pardon, in contradis-
tinction to amnesty, abolishes neither the offense
nor the sentence. — The utility of the right of
pardon has been questioned by some publicists, as
for instance, Beccaria, Bentham and even Rous-
seau, who have contested the necessity of its inter-
vention. Beccaria desired to introduce clemency
into the law, but not into the execution of its
judgments. He thought that the moderation of
penalties and the “perfection of the law” would
render pardons superfluous. “The right to remit
the penalty imposed on the culprit,” he said, “is
a tacit disapprobation of the laws.” This inflexi-
ble rule, which attributes the same weight and
measure to all acts of the same nature, although
in the infinite variety of human affairs they differ
considerably one from the other, and never have
the same moral value, has been condemned by
experience, which has rejected the system of the
fixity of penalties. J. J. Rousseau, although less
absolute than Beccaria, reached almost the same
conclusions. “The right of pardon,” says Rous-
seau, ‘‘ or of exempting a culprit from the pen-
alty declared by the law and pronounced by the
judge, belongs only to one who is above the judge
and the law, that is, to the sovereign; moreover,
the right of the sovereign to exercise the pardon-
ing power is not quite clear, and the cases in
which that power should be exercised are very
rare. In a well-governed state there are but few
punishments, not because pardon is very frequent,
but because there are few criminals; the multitude
of crimes insures their impunity when the state
is in a condition of decay. * * Frequent cases
of pardon indicate that crimes will soon have
no need of it.”—More recently than Rousseau's
time clemency in the execution of penalties found
new adversaries. Mr. Livingston, an American,
opposed it in principle, and proposed at least to
restrict its application to certain cases. “The
58
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
pardoning power,” said he, “should not be exer.
cised except in cases in which the innocence of
the prisoner is discovered after he has been con-
demned, or in case of his sincere and complete
reformation.” These few words give utterance to
Several errors: first, if a person condemned is
found to be innocent after his condemnation, there
can be no such thing as pardon; the judicial error
should be corrected, and the sentence of condem-
nation annulled. Then, it is not correct to say
that the reformation of the person condemned
and his moral amendment should of themselves
Constitute a motive for the intervention of the
pardoning power, Mr. Livingston, whom we have
just cited, would, without doubt, have expressed
himself differently had he borne political crimes
and offenses in mind. We do not deny that
repentance and the return to moral sentiments
may, in the case of ordinary crimes, be made a
condition of pardon. The thief and the murderer
should not be allowed to re-enter society without
giving it a pledge for their moral behavior. But
political crimes and offenses have a special char.
acter: they do not manifest in their author the
Same degree of perversity as common crimes, and
conscience does not express the same reprobation
for them. This class of offenses, in most cases,
Constitutes just as serious a violation of a moral
law as Ordinary offenses, but not of the same law.
Common crimes are crimes everywhere; political
acts are crimes only in a variable and, in a sense,
conditional manner. It might be said that cir-
Cumstances make and unmake them. “The im-
morality of political offenses,” says Guizot, “is
neither as clear nor as immutable as that of ordi-
nary Crimes; it is always crossed or obscured by
the vicissitudes of human affairs; it varies with
the time, with events and with the rights and
merits of power. — Public conscience is subject
to reaction in favor of persons condemned for
political offenses; it can not be so subject in favor
of persons condemned for ordinary crimes. Pub-
lic conscience amnesties the former, it pardons the
latter, but it never amnesties them; it forgives
but does not forget them. — How, then, can we
Subordinate the right of pardon in matters polit-
ical to conditions of reformation and private
morality, as has been proposed by Mr. Living.
Ston? What makes repression necessary in cases
of this kind is not the immorality and perversity
of the person committing the offense, but political
causes which must be subjected in their action
to the general principles of justice and of right;
the opportuneness, sometimes even the necessity,
of pardon, depends on the same causes. Circum-
stances which change, Occasions which pass away,
passions which become abated, parties which are
dissolved: all of these contribute toward dimin-
ishing the importance of a person condemned for
a political offense.” (Théorie du Code pénal, by
MM. Chauveau et Faustin Hélie.) — In politics,
the pardon granted the culprit (who sometimes is
but a vanquished adversary) produces the happiest
effect in favor of the power granting it; it im-
presses the minds of the people with the specta-
cle of power and greatness, and at the same time
disarms the parties. “Monarchs,” says Mon-
tesquieu, “have so much to gain by clemency,
they derive so much glory from it, that in almost
every instance it is for them a piece of good for-
tune to have an opportunity to exercise clemency.
—How many examples are there, on the contrary,
of powers pursued to death by the cry of blood
uselessly spilt, and which have perished for not
having pardoned in time!— But when should we
punish and when pardon?” Montesquieu proposed
that question to himself, which it is not an easy
task to solve. Clemency, says he, should not
degenerate into weakness, nor should it bring the
prince who exercises it into contempt. Clemency,
it is true, may have its dangers, but neither is
implacable severity without its dangers; the latter
produces terror, which offers but an unsteady basis
to power: Won d'uturn? timor magister officii, and
provokes retaliation. If we can not help going
to extremes it is better to sin by an excess of
clemency. It is not certain that this is not the
better policy, even as far as duration is concerned;
and posterity, which admires the victor, gives its
love to the indulgent.* EMILE CHäDIEU.
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE. Under
this title will be given a sketch of the three in-
ternational monetary conferences held in the city
of Paris in the years 1867, 1878 and 1881, Bi-
metallism in the abstract having been considered
in the article on MoMEY, that subject will be
treated here only in the narrative form as it was
presented in the discussions of the conferences. –
Conference of 1867. This conference was brought.
together on the invitation of the French govern-
ment, which was moved thereto by the successful
conclusion of the treaty of Dec. 23, 1865, between
France, Belgium, Italy and Switzerland, consti-
tuting what is commonly known as the Latin
monetary union. The letter of invitation trans-
mitted by the French government inclosed a copy
of this treaty, and suggested the holding of an
international conference “to consider the question
of uniformity of coinage and to seek for the basis of
not included in the power to pardon.
* No attempt has been made in the above to give the
actual law, constitutional and other, relative to the pardon-
ing power; this Cyclopædia being one of politics and politi-
cal economy, mainly, and not of law. —In the United States.
the power to pardon offenders is vested by the several state
constitutions in the governor. It is not, however, a power
which necessarily inheres in the executive. (State vs. Dun-
ning, 9 Ind., 22.) And several of the state constitutions.
have provided that it shall be exercised under such regula-
tions as shall be prescribed by law. There are provisions
more or less broad to this purport in those of Kansas, Flor-
ida, Alabama, Arkansas, Texas, Mississippi, Oregon, Indi-
ana, Iowa and Virginia. In State vs. Dunning, 9 Ind., 20,
an act of the legislature requiring the applicant for the
remission of a fine or forfeiture to forward to the governor,
with his application, the opinion of certain county officers. '
as to the propriety of the remission, was Sustained as an
act within the power conferred by the constitution upon the
legislature to prescribe regulations in these cases. And See
Branham vs. Lange, 16 Ind., 500. The power to reprieve is
(Cooley.)
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
59
ulterior negotiations.” The conference assembled
June 17, under the presidency of Marquis de
Moustier, minister of foreign affairs, the following
named countries being represented: Austria, Ba-
den, Bavaria, Belgium, Denmark, the United
States, France, Great Britain, Greece, Italy, The
Netherlands, Portugal, Prussia, Russia, Sweden
and Norway, Switzerland, Turkey, and Würtem-
berg. The United States were represented by
Mr. Samuel B. Ruggles of New York, and Great
Britain by Mr. Thomas Graham and Mr. Rivers
Wilson. The most eminent of the French repre-
sentatives, as an economist and financier, was
Mr. E. de Parieu. A committee was appointed
to formulate the work of the conference. — At
the second session (June 19) the committee report-
ed a “questionnaire” or series of interrogatories
to be debated by the conference. These were
twelve in number, all having relation to the pos-
sibility of establishing a universal monetary unit,
either by adopting some existing unit or by mak-
ing a new one approximating to existing units,
and to the means of securing the practical
adoption of the same. The conference voted
unanimously against the adoption of an entirely
new system, and in favor of “the mutual co-ordi-
nation of existing systems.” — At the third session
a vote was taken on the question whether the
standard of the proposed unit should be silver
exclusively. It was decided in the negative
unanimously. When this vote was taken, Mr.
Feer-Herzog (Switzerland) noted it as a fact of
much significance, that the representatives of
Prussia and Sweden, countries having the silver
standard, should have voted in effect in favor of
the gold standard. The conference then voted
unanimously (with the exception of The Nether-
lands) in favor of the single gold standard, “leav-
ing each state the liberty to keep its silver stand-
ard temporarily.”— At the fourth session, on the
motion of Baron de Hock (Austria), the conference
voted that the advantage of internationality,
which the proposed gold unit would have, would
not be sufficient to keep the coins in circulation
in states having the silver standard or the double
standard, unless suitable measures should be
adopted regarding the ratio between the two
metals, — At the fifth session (which was presided
over by Prince Napoleon) the question, what unit
should be adopted, came up for discussion. Mr.
Rivers Wilson, on behalf of Great Britain, read a
paper saying that his government had been glad
to participate in the conference, regarding it as a
means of enlightening public opinion on an im-
portant question, but could not hold out the
expectation that it would abandon its own mone-
tary unit or assimilate it to that of any continental
system. The conference voted that an interna-
tional coinage should consist of “types with a
common denominator for weight, in gold coins of .
identical fineness,” and that the fineness should
be nine-tenths. – At the sixth session the confer-
ence voted by thirteen to two in favor of the
five-franc gold piece (equal to 96% cents) as the
common denominator. England and Sweden
voted against this proposition; Prussia, Bavaria,
Baden, Würtemberg and Belgium did not vote.
It was voted also that gold coins with the com-
mon denominator of five francs should have legal
circulation in the countries agreeing to the action
of the conference, and that it would be expedient
to coin gold pieces of the dimensions of twenty-
five francs for international circulation. — At the
seventh session it was voted to refer the decisions
of the conference to the several states for diplo-
matic action; that the answers of the several
states should be transmitted to the French gov-
ernment, which should have power to reassemble
the conference; and that it was desirable that the
answers should be received before Feb. 15, 1868.
The conference adjourned July 6, and was not
reassembled. — Conference of 1878. By the coin-
age revision act of Feb. 12, 1873, the gold dollar
of twenty-five and eight-tenths grains nine-tenths
fine was declared to be the unit of value in the
United States, and the silver dollar was omitted
from the list of coins authorized to be struck at
the mint. By the act of Feb. 28, 1878, the silver
dollar was restored to the list of coins and made
full legal tender, and the secretary of the treasury
was directed to purchase silver bullion and coin
into such dollars not less than two million dollars’
worth, and not more than four million dollars’
worth per month. By the same act the president
was directed to invite the governments of Europe
“to join in a conference to adopt a common ratio
between gold and silver for the purpose of estab-
lishing internationally the use of bi-metallic money
and securing fixity of relative value between
those metals.” That portion of the act of 1873
which made the gold dollar the unit of value was
not altered by the act of 1878. — The conference
assembled in Paris, Aug. 16. Delegates were
appointed by Austria-Hungary, Belgium, France,
Great Britain, Greece, Italy, The Netherlands,
Russia, Sweden and Norway, Switzerland, and
the United States. Mr. Mees (The Netherlands),
Mr. Brock (Norway), Mr. Feer-Herzog (Switzer-
land), and Mr. Delyanni (Greece) had been mem-
bers of the conference of 1867. The representa-
tives of the United States were Reuben E. Fenton
of New York, W. S. Groesbeck of Ohio, and
Francis A. Walker of Connecticut, with S. Dana.
Horton as secretary, Mr. Horton being admitted
to the conference as a member. Great Britain
was represented by the Rt. Hon. Geo. J. GOSchen,
Mr. Henry Hucks Gibbs, Sir Thos. L. Seccombe,
and Mr. Wm. B. Gurdon. The most distinguished
representative of France was Léon Say, min-
ister of finance. Germany declined to send dele-
gates. No action was taken at the first session
beyond the election of Léon Say as president. —
At the second session Mr. Groesbeck, on behalf
of the United States, offered two propositions for
the consideration of the conference: 1, That it is
not to be desired that silver be excluded from free
coinage in Europe and the United States; 2d,
That the use of both gold and silver as unlimited
60
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
legal tender may be safely adopted by equalizing
them at a ratio fixed by international agreement.
Mr. Groesbeck said that that portion of the law
of 1873, by which the silver dollar was made to
disappear from the coinage, had been passed
* through inadvertence rather than intentionally,
and that the United States, although desiring to
restore silver to absolute equality with gold, had
been compelled to limit the coinage of silver on
account of the market value of the metals, and
also by reason of the action of the Latin Union
restricting the coinage of silver. Mr. Goschen
and Mr. Gibbs inquired what was to be under-
stood by the “inadvertence” of the act of 1873,
and whether that act had been passed without
debate, Mr. Groesbeck replied that “no news-
paper or chamber of commerce” had considered
or recommended the bill, and that several mem-
bers of congress had confessed to him that they
did not know at the time what they were doing.
Mr. Feer-Herzog said that silver had disappeared
from circulation in the United States long before
the act of 1873 was passed, that there had been
only eight millions of silver dollars coined from
the beginning of the government down to that
time, and that he had documents which he would
lay on the table showing that the section of the
law of 1873, by which the silver dollar was made
to disappear from the coinage of the United
States, was not passed by inadvertence, but volun-
tarily and with reflection, and determination to
establish the single gold standard, which was in
fact, and had for a long time been in practice,
the standard of the country. Mr. Walker said
that he himself, although at that time occupying
a chair of political economy and lecturing, on
money, was not aware of what was being done,
and he presumed the great majority of his fellow-
citizens were equally ignorant. The president
(M. Say) said that Mr. Groesbeck’s observation
that the action of the Latin Union restricting the
coinage of silver had been one of the motives
impelling the United States to restrict it also, did
not seem to be well founded. It seemed to him
that this restriction was a compromise effected
in congress by means of which a majority
could be obtained. Mr. Horton replied that the
Bland bill had been introduced in 1876, and that
between that time and the passage of the silver
remonetization act the subject had been discussed
in all its phases, and that the action of the Latin
Union had not been overlooked in the discussion.
Mr. Pirmez (Belgium) said that the real question
before the conference was whether the double
standard should be made universal. His country
could not do otherwise than reject such a propo-
sition, whose immediate result would be to give
enormous profits to speculators in the metals by
withdrawing the one and substituting the other
with every change of market value. Count Rus-
coni (Italy) thought the conference might pro-
nounce upon the question of principle : “Is it
possible to establish a fixed relation between gold
and silver?” and then, if it be decided affirma-
tively, consider the means to establish such ratio.
Mr. Broch (Norway) said that the double standard
was a delusion and a misnomer; there was no
such thing anywhere. Countries having the
double standard in law had the gold standard
in fact to-day and the silver standard to-morrow,
but the double standard never. Silver, by reason
of its weight and bulk, was not adapted to the
wants of civilized countries and an active circu-
lation. Gold alone responded to those needs.
Silver was suited only to countries which were
backward or stationary. Even if all European
countries could be persuaded to adopt the double
standard, the influence of India and China would
produce incessant perturbations and fluctuations
by alternate importations and exportations of sil-
ver. Mr. de Thoerner (Russia) believed that it was
opposed to the very nature of things to endeavor to
establish a fixed relation between the value of sil-
ver and that of gold. After some further discussion
it was resolved, on the motion of Count Rusconi,
that an invitation be extended to the German
government, in the name of all the delegates, to
send representatives to the conference. — At the
third session Mr. Goschen said that England could
not adopt the double standard, but that she had,
nevertheless, so large an interest in the question
under discussion, through her Indian possessions,
that she could not fail to give her aid and co-
operation in any intelligent movement to arrest
the fall of silver. If all states should resolve on
the adoption of the gold standard, and if Italy,
Austria and Russia should resume specie pay-
ments, would there be sufficient gold for the pur-
pose without a tremendous crisis? It was better
for the world at large that the two metals should
continue in circulation than that one should be
universally substituted for the other. The con-
ference could not adopt the American proposi-
tion, but efforts might be made in other directions
to check the downward course of silver by making
some definite disposition of the German surplus,
estimated at $75,000,000. If, for instance, this
could be taken into the United States treasury in
place of an equal amount of gold, it would no
longer weigh on the market. Mr. von Hengen-
muller (Austria-Hungary) said that Austria was
attached to the principle of the double standard,
and in theory must subscribe to the American
proposition, but unfortunately the advantage of
it depended upon its general adoption, which was
not to be looked for. His government was,
therefore, compelled to maintain an attitude of
expectancy. If the conference were asked to
formulate its opinions on the American proposi-
tion he should, however, vote in favor of it. Mr.
Mees said that so long as England and Germany
adhered to the single gold standard it would be
impossible for Holland to adopt another system.
There was not, at the present time, a single state
in Europe where the coinage of silver was free,
not even among those which have theoretically
the silver standard or the double standard. The
United States might, nevertheless, find powerful
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
61
allies in Asia and South America, as well as
among those countries of Europe which are still
under the régime of paper money. The general
demonetization of silver undertaken everywhere
at once, would have the most fatal consequences.
The president (M. Say) explained the monetary
position of France. In closing her mint against
silver, the government had no intention of mov-
ing toward the single gold standard. France had
about twenty-five hundred million francs in silver,
of which nine hundred millions were in the
vaults of the bank. To demonetize such a mass
and throw it on the market was inadmissible.
But to hold the mint open to take a further
indefinite quantity at the ratio of fifteen and one-
half to one, especially when it was known that
Germany had fifteen or seventeen million pounds
sterling in hand ready to sell, was impossible.
Hence, the attitude of France was that of ex-
pectancy. France was waiting to get clearer
ideas of the causes of the depreciation of silver,
and to see what disposition was to be made of the
German stock. She held herself in readiness to
adopt the single gold standard or to revert to the
double standard, according to circumstances. She
could vote readily for the first clause of the Amer-
ican proposition, that it is not to be desired that
silver be excluded from free coinage in Europe
and the United States. She could vote also that
silver already coined and holding the legal tender
character ought to be maintained in that charac-
ter, but could not acquiesce in the other clauses
of the American proposition, although at some
future time, when the atmosphere should be
cleared, she might be able to do so. Mr. Delyanni
said that the position of Greece was identical
with that expressed by M. Say on behalf of
France, Mr. Feer-Herzog was not able to coin-
cide with other speakers in giving such promi-
nence and gravity to the unsold stock of silver in
the German treasury as a disturbing cause in the
market. This stock was only equal to one year’s
supply from the mines, or to the demand from
India last year. The commerce of India was the
greatest factor in the silver market, the produc-
tion of the mines the next greatest, while the
German monetary reform could only be counted
as the third in importance. He disclaimed for
himself and other adherents of the single gold
standard the thought of suppressing silver money.
He merely desired that it should take its natural
and proper place as the money of the less ad-
vanced portions of mankind, while gold should
take its place as the money of a higher civiliza-
tion. It was the persistent fall of silver, showing
itself as a constant fact, which had led govern-
ments, even against their will, to adopt the single
gold standard. Switzerland had given her dele-
gates no authority to agree to the adoption of the
ratio of sixteen to one, or any other ratio between
silver and gold. Count Rusconi did not consider
it impossible to establish a stable relation between
silver and gold. Law alone, he said, makes
money. If the uncoined metal was subject to
variations of the market, the coined metal, having
legal tender power, had a price which did not
vary. It had the power of paying obligations
which the uncoined metal did not possess. The
metal might change in value, but the coin did
not change. It had, actually and effectively, the
value which was indicated by the imprint. Mr.
Brock could not share in the opinions which had
been expressed concerning the quantity of gold
which would be required to enable those coun.
tries now under the paper régime to resume specie
payments. In his opinion more silver would be
required than gold; for those countries would not
discard their note issues when they should resume,
but the fractional notes would be retired, and sil-
ver coin would take their place in the hands of
the people. Norway and Sweden were on the
gold basis, but scarcely any gold was seen. The
circulation consisted of notes and silver. So it
would be in Italy and Austria and the United
States after resumption. Specie resumption in
the United States would necessarily be in gold.
The coinage of silver dollars under the limitations
of the present law would do no harm for a long
time. The dollars would circulate at par with
gold so long as they were not in excess. But a
time would come, especially if they should adopt
unlimited coinage, when the two would not cir-
culate at par with each other. The power of the
United States, or of all the nations of Europe
together, would not suffice for the struggle against
the balance of international trade, or to change
the terms of the balance. He agreed with the
delegate from Switzerland that the greater or less
demand for silver in India was the governing fac-
tor of the silver problem. In other words, it was
the condition of trade between Europe and Asia.
that determined from time to time the relative
values of silver and gold. Holding this opinion,
he did not believe that the means proposed by the
United States to secure fixity of value between
the two metals would have the results which
they expected from it, even if accepted by all
Europe. Nevertheless, he had the most pro-
found respect for the motives which led to the
calling of this conference, and he believed that
great good would result from the interchange
of views, even if no resolution should be adopted.
— At the fourth session, the president said that.
the German government had replied, through
Prince Hohenlohe, to the invitation to send del.
egates to the conference by expressing thanks
for the invitation, and regretting its inability
to accede to the wishes of the conference. Mr.
Walker replied to the remarks of Mr. Feer-
Herzog at the previous session. Silver, he said,
had not ceased to be money in Europe through
natural causes, but by the action of man, by
political action, by laws and decrees of govern.
ments suggested and urged by political economists.
of a certain school. The action of Germany in
1871, involving important changes in the policy
of the Latin Union, was wholly gratuitous, mot
Suggested by any commercial exigency. It was
62
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
taken under:bad advice, with little or no consid.
eration as to the general effects upon the produc-
tion of wealth which would be wrought by so
great a diminution of the money supply of the
world. Mr. Feer-Herzog had said that he ex-
pected and desired to see the world divided into
gold countries and silver countries, the former
civilized, the latter uncivilized. He (Mr. Walker)
affirmed that “there are not more than three ter-
ritorially extensive countries in the world which
could possibly maintain a single gold standard
upon true economic principles.” A diminution
of the money supply was one of the gravest evils
that could menace mankind. Whether the money
supply of Europe should be reduced by silver
demonetization 40, 30 or only 20 per cent., the
consequences would be most disastrous. “Suffo-
cation, strangulation, are words hardly too strong
to express the agony of the industrial body when
embraced in the fatal coils of a contracting money
supply.” Against So great a wrong to civilization
and to the hopes of mankind, the representatives
of the United States were here to raise their
earnest protest and warning. The interest of the
United States in this question as a silver produc-
ing country, was utterly insignificant as compared
with their interest in it as it stands related to
trade and industry in general. Mr. Waern (Swe-
den), thought it right to reply to so much of Mr.
Walker's speech as implied that only the richest
nations would be able to obtain and keep gold
sufficient for their needs under the single gold
standard. Sweden was a country very inferior
in wealth, and she had adopted the single gold
standard in 1873, yet she had experienced no
difficulty upon this score. She had found all the
gold she needed as the basis of her fiduciary
circulation, and she had had no difficulty in re-
taining it. Mr. Horton replied to Mr. Feer-Her-
zog's historical citations, and especially to his
statement that England, in adopting the single
gold standard in the year 1816, had simply con-
formed the law to what had been the practice for
nearly a century. The English gold standard
law, said Mr. Horton, really dated from 1798.
Much of the monetary confusion which England
suffered between 1798 and 1821 was to be attrib-
uted to this unwise proceeding. Mr. Horton
thought that the conference was diverging into
collateral discussions, and that it would be better
to adhere to the real question suggested by the
United States government, viz.: Is it in the inter-
est of nations to wage a monetary war, each seek-
ing to get rid of a falling metal? or ought they to
unite together to give to the monetary basis of
business a stability which it does not now possess?
If the conference should separate without answer-
ing this question it would have left only an inter-
rogation point at the end of its labors. Mr.
Baralis (Italy) urged that a sub-committee be
appointed to consider and report upon the subject
of an international coinage. The president
thought it was better to pursue the discussion of
the American propositions till a definite conclusion
should be arrived at. Mr. Feer-Herzog, replying
to Mr. Horton's statement of the real question
before the conference, said that, if England were
asked to establish a fixed ratio between the rupee
and the Sovereign, she would refuse to do so. If
Holland were asked to do the same as between the
gold florin and the silverflorin, she would refuse to
do so. And so it would be all around. It was po-
litically impossible and commercially impossible
to establish a fixed and permanent relation be-
tween the two metals. All governments together,
with their united efforts, could not do it. Mr
Horton could not admit that it was a good answer
to say that it was impossible to come to an agree-
ment merely because this or that nation would
not agree to it. The conference was inquiring
whether the agreement ought to be made, whether
it was for the interest of the nations that it should
be made. Until 1873, the variations of supply and
demand had not prevented silver from remaining
comparatively steady for a long period. This
was due to the bi-metallic system of France, which
kept the two metals in equilibrium. By giving
a wider basis to this system a still more complete
stability would be obtained. Mr. Goschen said
that, if Mr. Horton asked the conference to pro-
nounce upon the utility of bi-metallism, irrespect-
ive of the possibility or impossibility of estab-
lishing it, he did not consider it necessary to give
a categorical answer to a question thus hypotheti-
cally put. But if the practical question were put,
he should not hesitate to affirm, as Mr. Feer-Her.
zog had done, the entire and absolute impossibility
of establishing a fixed ratio between the metals,
and this for many reasons of a scientific and
economic nature which he need not enter into
in detail. — At the fifth session the theoretical
discussion of bi-metallism was continued by Mr.
Groesbeck, Mr. Pirmez and Mr. Horton. — At
the sixth session the president (M. Say) laid on
the table a memorandum agreed upon by the
European delegates as their collective answer to
the American propositions. After thanking the
government of the United States for calling the
conference, the memorandum declares that the
European delegates recognize, 1, that it is neces-
sary to maintain in the world the monetary func-
tion of silver as well as of gold, but that the
selection of one, or the other, or both simultane-
ously, should be governed by the special situation
of each state or group of states; 2, that the
question of the restriction of the coinage of silver
should equally be left to the discretion of each
state or group of states; 3, that the differences of
opinion which have appeared exclude the discus-
sion of the adoption of a common ratio between
the two metals. The representatives of Italy
dissented from the conclusions of the other
European delegates. – At the seventh Session
(Aug. 29), the representatives of the United States
filed a paper expressing their thanks to the Euro-
pean states for accepting their invitation, but
dissenting from that portion of the memorandum
which refers the question of bi-metallism to the
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
63
separate action of each state or group of states.
After a vote of thanks to the president and Secre-
taries, and the exchange of civilities, the confer-
ence adjourned. — Conference of 1881. This con-
ference was called in the month of January, 1881,
by the governments of France and the United
States,“to examine and adopt, for the purpose of
submitting the same to the governments repre-
sented, a plan and a system for the establishment,
by means of an international agreement, of the
use of gold and silver as bi-metallic money accord-
ing to a settled relative value between those
metals.” It met at Paris, April 19. Delegates
were present from Austria-Hungary, Belgium,
British India, Canada, Denmark, France, Ger-
many, Great Britain, Greece, Italy, The Nether-
lands, Portugal, Russia, Spain, Sweden and Nor-
way, Switzerland and the United States. Mr.
Brock (Norway), was the only delegate who had
been a member of both the preceding conferences.
Mr. Wrolik (The Netherlands) had been a mem-
ber of the conference of 1867. Count von Kuef-
stein (Austria), Mr. Pirmez (Belgium), Count
Rusconi (Italy), Mr. de Thoerner (Russia), and
Mr. Horton (the United States), had been mem-
bers of the conference of 1878. The other repre-
sentatives of the United States were W m. M.
Evarts, of New York, ex-secretary of state, Allen
G. Thurman of Ohio, and Timothy O. Howe of
Wisconsin, ex-senators. At the first session Mr.
Magnin, minister of finance of the French repub-
lic, was chosen president, and a committee of One
from each state appointed to draft a “question-
'naire,” or list of questions to be discussed. — At
the second session (May 5) the question/maire
was presented by Mr. Vrolik, chairman of the
committee, in substance as follows: Has the fall
of silver been hurtful to commerce and to general
prosperity? Is it desirable that the relative value
of gold and silver should possess a high degree of
stability? Is the fall of silver due to increased
production, or to acts of legislation? If a large
group of states should agree to the free coinage
of gold and silver, of full legal tender, at a uni-
form ratio, would substantial, if not absolute,
stability of relative value be obtained? If so,
what measures should be taken to secure such
result? The delegates of Germany then read a
declaration on behalf of their government, giving
the reasons which led them, in the year 1871,
to adopt the gold standard. This reform was
now so far advanced that they could not change
their monetary system, but they were disposed
to second the efforts of other powers which might
desire to unite for the purpose of rehabilitating
silver, by agreeing to abstain during a period of
some years from all sales of silver, and during
..another period to sell only a limited quantity, so
that the market should at no time be glutted
thereby. Germany might even make other con-
cessions short of changing her Own monetary
system. She might retire her gold pieces and
treasury notes of five marks, leaving their places
to be filled by silver. This would make room for
78,000,000 marks. Mr. Fremantle, the delegate
of Great Britain, read a declaration of his.gov.
erºnment to the effect that they had decided in the
first instance not to take part in this conference,
understanding that the terms of the call issued by
France and the United States committed the par-
ticipating governments to the double standard.
Having been subsequently assured that no com-
mittal was intended, and that entire liberty of
action was reserved, they considered that they
would be lacking in consideration toward friendly
powers if they should persist in refusing to send
a delegate. His instructions limited him to
furnishing information concerning the laws and
monetary system of England. They did not per-
mit him to vote upon the proposition submitted.
The delegates of British India and of Canada
made similar declarations to that of Mr. Fre-
mantle, except that the delegate of Canada was
authorized to vote, reserving liberty of action for
his government. The delegate of Denmark said
that, as his government had no intention of aban-
doning the single gold standard, he was instructed
to abstain from all discussion of means for estab-.
lishing the double standard. The delegate of
Portugal made a similar statement in behalf of
his government. Any opinions which he might
express in the debates should be understood as
merely his private and personal views. The dele-
gate of Russia said that his government reserved
entire liberty of action and of opinion. If he
should take part in the debates, it would be upon
the same understanding as that announced by the
delegate of Portugal. The delegate of Greece
made a similar declaration. The delegates of
Austria-Hungary said that their position was
the same that it had been in the conference of
1878. They had an ardent sympathy for all
measures to restore silver to its former position,
but they reserved for their government full liberty
of action. The delegates of Sweden and Norway
said that their government authorized them to
take part in all discussions, reserving their right
to deal with their own monetary system. The
delegates of Switzerland were not authorized to
take part in the discussions of the conference
until its action should have been first reported to
the federal council. Mr. Cernuschi (France)
thought that the prospect of an agreement in
favor of bi-metallism was encouraging. It was
only necessary to secure the co-operation of Eng-
land and Germany to insure success. England
had Indeed refused to join in a bi-metallic union,
but there was reason to believe that she might
join at a later period. Germany had shown,
through the declaration read to the conference,
that she could not now change her course with-
out great loss and inconvenience. He (Mr. Cer-
nuschi) would suggest (but only on his personal
responsibility) that the loss incurred by Germany
in changing from the silver to the gold standard,
estimated at ninety-six million marks, be reim-
bursed to her by the other nations which had
bought her silver. These nations, he contended, .
64
PARIS MONETARY'CONFERENCE.
had made a gain by purchasing the silver of Ger-
many, equal to the loss which Germany had
incurred in selling it—the silver being worth one
to fifteen and one-half, if bi-metallism were put
in force, whereas Germany had sold it at one to
seventeen or one to eighteen. Mr. Brock (Nor-
way) thought that bi-metallism was not only im-
practicable, but undesirable. The substitution of
gold for silver in Europe and America was not an
accident, but the natural, logical and necessary
result of the progress of civilization. There was
sufficient gold in the world to supply the wants
of all the civilized races, including those now
under the régime of paper money. So far from
looking upon bi-metallism as a thing to be striven
for, he thought it was something to be avoided.
So far from seeing danger in the single gold
standard, he could only see advantages in it. Mr.
Moret Y. Prendergast (Spain) moved that the
conference take into consideration, first, the im-
portant declarations of Germany, England, British
India and Canada, in order to get at their true
scope and value, and then to adjourn to a fixed
date, in order to open negotiations with those
governments if it were found that the declara-
tions afforded a reasonable basis for negotiations.
It was agreed to pass over this motion for the
present, and to take it up at a later stage. — At
the third session Mr. Cernuschi, in furtherance of
the suggestion made by him respecting the reim-
bursement of ninety-six million marks to Ger-
many, asked for information from the several
governments in reference to the amount of silver
coined by them since 1874, and the prices at
which it had been bought. Mr. Pierson (The
Netherlands) called attention to the limping-stand-
ard countries (Etalon boîtéua), meaning by this
the countries where the coinage of gold is free
and the coinage of silver is not free, but where
silver coins of unlimited legal tender circulate
side by side with gold. The Latin Union, Ger-
many and Holland, were in this condition, a con-
dition which could not last. The metallic stock
of the banks must be all of equal goodness.
Bank notes must be covered by coin having a real
and not an artificial value. The danger of coun-
terfeiting was very great when the legal tender
value of silver coins was much above their metal
value. The clandestine coinage of silver was a
permanent menace in countries where the limping
standard prevails. The demonetization of silver
had not only brought trouble upon the limping-
standard countries, but upon the gold-standard
countries, upon England and Germany as well as
upon Holland. The fall of the value of the rupee
had wrought confusion in the trade of England
with India, and caused great losses to British
merchants and manufacturers. The only remedy
for these evils was international bi-metallism.
Mr. Pirmez (Belgium) denied that the gold-stand-
ard countries were suffering by reason of the
demonetization of silver. They had announced
on the floor of the conference that they felt very
well and that they did not desire any change. As
the paper money countries of Europe.
to English trade with India, the English merchant
merely added to the selling prices of his goods a
Sum Sufficient to make good the decline in the
value of the rupee. The Indian government had
lost a certain percentage of its fixed receipts, by
reason of the decline of silver, but British trade
had not suffered, and the British government re-
mained insensible to the adjurations of the bi-
metallists; Germany was equally insensible. The
sole result of universal bi-metallism would be the
spreading over Europe of a large portion of the
silver of Asia, and the sending to Asia of a cor-
responding amount of the gold of Europe. The
production of silver would be stimulated by
the artificial value conferred upon it, and the
production of gold would be correspondingly
checked. Thus a fresh depreciation of silver
would be produced, this time irremediable. Gold
would not be sold at fifteen and one-half for sil-
ver, because it would cost more to produce it.
Gold would continue to circulate, but it would
circulate at a premium, as it now does in Austria,
Russia, and all the countries under the paper
money system. All the governments in the world
would be utterly powerless to decree the respect-
ive value of silver and gold. — At the fourth
session, Mr. Luzzatti (Italy) replied to the argu-
ment of Mr. Pirmez. He contended that there
was a strong party in England in favor of bi-
metallism. He instanced the pamphlet of Mr.
Gibbs, former governor of the bank of England,
published with the approval of the present gov-
ernor of the bank; also the remarkable work of
Mr. Ernest Seyd; also the resolutions of the
Liverpool chamber of commerce. As regards
British India, he said that English trade with
that country was injured by oscillations in the
exchange, just as it is injured by Oscillations in
These
oscillations were uncertainties, and all uncertainty
was prejudicial to the best interests of trade.
Public opinion in Germany was likewise divided
on the question, and Prince Bismarck seemed to
have conceived doubts as to the value of the gold
monometallic reform. There was really a dearth
of gold in the world. This would be proved
unmistakably when Italy, Austria and Russia
should make the attempt to resume specie pay-
ments. Mr. Fremantle said that it must not be
inferred from the pamphlet of Mr. Gibbs, that
that gentleman, or the present governor of the
bank of England, expressed the opinion of the
bank of England, still less the public opinion of
Great Britain. Mr. de Thoerner (Russia) said
that gold was preferable to silver just as railways
were preferable to roads and bridle paths, but it
did not follow that roads and bridle paths should
be discarded. For the purposes of a standard
gold was certainly the best; for an instrument of
exchange having an intrinsic value there was still
room for the use of silver. Might it not be possi-
ble to treat silver in the light of a stock exchange
security selling for what it was worth? If coined
or stamped by governments in the form of ingots
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
65
at its exact value in gold, it might be made to
play an important part in the work of inter-
national exchange without danger to any interest.
Count Rusconi (Italy) contended that money was
not merchandise, but a creation of law; conse-
quently the ratio of fifteen and one-half was just
as good as the ratio of sixteen or twenty. Mr.
Burkhardt Bischoff (Switzerland) contended that
money was merchandise, and not the creation of
law. All that the state could do was to give a
certificate of its weight and fineness. This it
effected by means of a stamp. When that stamp
was affixed, the state had exhausted its powers.
The double or alternative standard was unjust in
that it allowed the debtor always to pay in the
cheaper metal. The greatness of London as a
centre of the world’s exchanges was due in large
part to the invariableness of the English standard.
You could always know what a pound sterling
was; you could never know with certainty what
a franc was under the double standard régime,
when that standard existed. Replying to Mr.
Cernuschi’s observation on the loss of ninety-six
million marks incurred by Germany, he contended
that this was a fallacious assumption. Instead of
incurring a loss, Germany had really made a
gain. She had sold her silver at rates considerably
higher than the present market price. If she
wished to repurchase it she could do so now at a
profit. The proper way to deal with the great
stocks of silver in the banks of the Latin Union
was to melt them down into ingots, and issue sil-
wer certificates for them, of so many kilogrammes
each, which might pass into the world’s commerce
at their value according to the weight represented
by them. Mr. Cernuschi reiterated that Germany
had lost ninety-six million marks by her monetary
reform. This wastestified to by the memorandum
of the German government submitted to the con-
ference. (This memorandum showed a loss of
96,481,136 marks, comparing the sales with the
original cost of the silver.) — During the fifth,
sixth, seventh and eighth sessions the theoretical
discussion was continued by Mr. Horton, Mr.
Howe and Mr. Evarts on the part of the United
States, by Count von Kuefstein and Chevalier von
Niebauer (Austria-Hungary), Mr. Cernuschi and
M. de Normandie (France), Mr. Pierson and
Mr. Vrolik (The Netherlands), and Mr. Seismit.
Doda (Italy), in favor of bi-metallism; and by
Mr. Brock (Norway), Mr. Pirmez (Belgium), Mr.
Forssell (Sweden), and Count San Miguel (Portu-
gal), against it. Sir Louis Mallet, on behalf of
the government of British India, made some im-
portant statements. He said that he was author-
ized to engage that India would continue to keep
her mint open to the free coinage of silver for a
certain definite period, provided and upon the con-
dition that a certain number of the principal states
of the world engage on their part to maintain
within their territories during the same period, the
free coinage of silver, with full legal tender fac-
ulty, in the proportion of fifteen and one-half of
silver to one of gold. He would explain how the
124 VOL. III. – 5
depreciation of silver affected the Indian govern-
ment. The government of India had to pay
£15,000,000 in gold in London annually, This
was the interest on the Indian debt contracted in
gold, the interest on railway and canal obligations,
also pensions and annuities, and that portion of
the military expenditure which relates to pay and
commissariat. These expenses were fixed by con-
tract, and could not be reduced. The loss result.
ing on these remittances by reason of the fall of
silver was £2,000,000 per annum. The govern-
ment could not increase its revenue materially,
the land revenue in Bengal being fixed in perpe-
tuity, and in other provinces for long periods. It
would be impossible, without serious political
danger, to propose new taxes for reasons which
the mass of the people would not be able to un-
derstand. But this actual loss was not the worst
part of it; it was the absolute uncertainty which
hung over the future, and which prevented any
accurate calculation of the resources of the gov-
ernment. Then, there was a loss in trade result-
ing from the uncertainty of the exchanges and a
loss of 20 per cent. On the great quantity of silver
hoarded by the natives. The great wish of the
financial authorities of India had been to have a
common monetary system with England. Silver
being impossible as a common standard on ac-
count of the English system, the choice must be
between bi-metallism and gold, and although the
latter was at present too difficult, it was certain
that if any opportunity should offer itself India
would seize it and enter into the struggle for the
sole metal left as a solid basis for an international
currency. Mr. Moret Y. Prendergast suggested
that England might second the undertaking of
Germany in behalf of silver by keeping one-fourth
of the bank reserves in that metal as authorized
by Sir Robert Peel's act. Mr. Fremantle replied
that his government would take into very serious
consideration the views put forward by the con-
ference, but he suggested that the proposals be
put in as definite form as possible. Mr. Forssell
(Sweden) said that it was vain to talk about the
sufferings and groans of this country and of that
country, of this great bank and of that great
bank, for the want of bi-metallism, so long as
Lngland and Germany refused to be converted.
Notwithstanding all that had been said about the
growth of bi-metallic opinion in Germany, here
was the imperial government absolutely inflexible
in its adherence to the single gold standard.
There was not one ray of hope in that quarter.
Pngland was equally unmoved. Her Indian in-
terests were so far inferior to her general interests
that there was not the smallest prospect of her
entering into a bi-metallic union. It was said
that £2,000,000 per year are lost in the Indian
exchanges. That was an ascertained sum, but
the loss to be sustained by entering into a bi-me-
tallic union was an indefinite and unascertained
sum. Was an exact amount of loss ever bartered
for an indefinite amount of risk? Was the mone-
tary supremacy of a country ever sold for two
66
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
millions sterling? Bi-metallism would always
fail of adoption in face of the disproportion be-
tween the comparatively slight ailings complained
of and the perfectly enormous remedy proposed,
and however skillfully those ailings might be
added up, the amount would never be deemed
sufficient to justify the remedy. Mr. Forssell
suggested three additional topics of discussion to
be added to the questionnaire, viz.: Hasthere been,
in the last ten years, a fall of general prices which
may be attributed to the demonetization of silver
and to a dearth of gold? Is there reason to be-
lieve that the successive adoption of the single
gold standard will lead to a contraction of the
metallic and paper circulation sufficiently great
to exhibit itself in a fall of general prices? Is
there ground for taking legislative measures to
economize the use of gold in view of the progres-
sive adoption of the single gold standard? Mr.
Moret Y. Prendergast renewed his motion that
the conference adjourn from the 19th of May to
the 30th of June, in order that delegates who
desired to communicate with their governments
and receive further instructions upon propositions
formulated in the conference, might have the
opportunity to do so. Lord Reay (British India)
thought that the excellent speeches which had
been heard would be valuable contributions to
economic science, but when the conference should
reassemble it would be necessary to take practical
steps to come to an agreement. The habits of
English statesmen tended to make them give
attention to facts rather than theories. If it were
sought to persuade the United Kingdom to adopt
bi-metallism, gentlemen could not do better than
practice what they preached. They should begin
by adopting bi-metallism at home. It would
be another glory for the bi-metallists to accept
the slight burden of some inconveniences which,
on their own showing, would be only tempo-
rary. France and the United States were strong
enough financially to make the experiment of
bi-metallism. Great Britain had not waited for
other nations to join her in adopting free trade.
If other nations should show their faith in what
they professed by adopting bi-metallism, Great
Britain would be the first to render them the
homage which she had always paid to any work
tending to draw closer the bonds which unite
nations. Mr. Seismit-Doda (Italy) seconded the
motion for adjournment to June 30. The motion
was unanimously adopted. On motion of the
delegates of India the conference requested the
Several governments to take the opinion of the
chief banks of issue in each on “the monetary
question.” Mr. Pierson (The Netherlands) asked
the delegates of the United States what meas-
ures that country would take, in the event of
the adoption of bi-metallism, to require the
banks to receive silver on the same footing as
gold. In most European countries the obligation
could be imposed on banks of issue of buying
gold and silver at a fixed price. What analogous
steps could be taken in America? In short, what
&
could she do in order that bi-metallism should
exist there, not only in name, but in reality? He
did not ask an immediate reply, but requested
that a definite answer be made when the confer-
ence should reassemble. — After an adjournment
of six weeks, the conference held its ninth session,
June 30. — At the tenth session Mr. Horton re-
gretted that he was, as yet, unable to present a
response to the question which Mr. Pierson had
put to the American delegates at the eighth session,
or rather, to enter into the practical discussion
to which the question would necessarily give rise.
Mr. Thurman, reverting to the declarations of
Germany and British India, which he read at
length, said that these propositions required
France and the United States to keep their mints
open to the free coinage of silver of unlimited
legal tender, this being the condition upon which
Germany would agree to suspend her sales of
silver for a definite period of time. While the
United States would not reject any and every
proposition which comes short of perfect bi-metal-
lism, he was bound to say that a proposition
which would expose them to alternate drains
of gold and silver, according as the one or the
other should command a premium in the market,
would not be acceptable. The United States held
a large stock of gold at the present time, and
only a small stock of silver. They would hesi-
tate to enter into an agreement the effect of which
might be to lessen the amount of their gold.
They would cheerfully become parties to a great
bi-metallic union, but without such union would
not surrender their power over their own coinage.
He said this without underrating the importance
of the German and English propositions, which
were entitled to most respectful consideration,
but which, in his judgment, fell far short of what
the exigency required. Mr. Schraut (Germany)
desired to combat the assertion that the sales of
silver by his government had been the prin-
cipal cause of the depression of that metal. The
largest sales had been made in the year 1877,
when the average price was one and three-fourths
pence higher than in 1876, and two pence higher
than in 1878, showing that there were other and
more powerful causes at work than the Sales of
silver by Germany. These causes, in his opinion,
were the increase of production, and the increase
of sales of India council drafts on the London
market, which, taking the place of silver as re-
mittances to India, lessened the demand for silver
by an equal amount. The sale of such bills in
London from 1871 to 1879 had exceeded the sales
of silver by Germany more than three to One.
Mr. Cernuschi contended that neither the more
plentiful issue of bills by the Indian government
nor the increased productiveness of silver mines
had caused the depreciation of silver. If Ger-
many had not adopted monometallism, France
would have continued to coin the two metals
freely: therefore the depreciation could not have
taken place. Germany was the Sole author of
the silver crisis. Unless she had further declara.
PARIS MONETARY CONFERENCE.
67
tions to make to the conference, she had as yet
made no proposition which the United States and
France could regard as a concession. Mr. Hor-
ton, while agreeing with Mr. Cernuschi as to the
mistake which Germany had made in her mone-
tary legislation, could not look upon her as the
sole cause of the mischief. It dated further back.
England began it, and the Paris conference of
1867, in which the United States took part, propa-
gated it. The responsibility was not only on
Germany, but on the civilized world. Baron von
Thielmann (Germany) said that his government
had nothing to add to the declaration presented at
the first session of the conference. Mr. Fremantle
said that at a later session of the conference he
should present a fresh communication which he
had just received from his government. — At the
eleventh session Mr. Dumas (France) made an
extended argument in favor of bi-metallism. But
if bi-metallism were for any reasons found to be
impracticable, he would suggest the suppression
of small gold coins, in order to give greater em-
ployment and steadiness of value to silver, Mr.
Schraut concurred in this suggestion, and WQuld
add to it the suppression of bank notes of less
denomination than twenty francs, and of the one
and two dollar notes in the United States. Mr.
Brock (Norway) said that all monometallists
would concur in those suggestions, but he pointed
out that the proposal of Mr. Dumas differed from
that formulated by his colleague, Mr. Cernuschi.
Mr. Cernuschi said that all such measures were
only half measures; they only looked at small
sides of the question, and could come to nothing.
The internationality of silver at fifteen and one-
half was the point to be arrived at. Without
that, nothing would be effected. “We must have
all or nothing.” Mr. Pierson presented a decla-
ration of The Netherlands government saying
that it would join in a bi-metallic union consist-
ing of “all the great states of Europe and Amer-
ica,” but could not engage to act thus if the system
were confined to a more restricted area. It would,
nevertheless, give serious attention to a project,
if proposed at the conference, for establishing
bi-metallism in an area comprising only several
great states of Europe and America. — At the
twelfth session, Mr. Seismit-Doda presented a
declaration of the government of Italy, saying
that Italy would unite with the other states of
the Latin Union and the United States of America
“in resuming the limited coinage of silver” for
a fixed term, provided Germany would agree
during the same term (which should be at least
five years) to suspend her sales of silver and re-
place her gold five-mark pieces and treasury
notes with silver money, and provided the British
government would increase the paying power of
its silver crowns. Italy could in no case agree to
the free and unlimited coinage of silver, unless
England and Germany, or one of them, should
unreservedly adhere to it. Mr. Fremantle pre-
sented a declaration from his government trans-
mitting to the conference a communication from
the bank of England. This communication was
in effect an agreement on the part of the bank
to receive silver and issue its (gold) notes there-
for, to the extent of one-fourth of the gold held
by the bank in its issue department, as authorized
by its charter, provided that the mints of other
countries would return to such rules as would
insure the certainty of the conversion of gold into
silver and of silver into gold. All its notes were
payable in gold on demand, and it was required
by law to receive all the gold offered to it in
exchange for its notes. The president suggested
that it would be well at the next session to con-
sider the subject of adjournment. After such
profound discussions it was not likely that any
fresh light would be thrown upon the subject or
additional eclat be given to the proceedings. – At
the thirteenth session (July 8) Mr. Evarts, in be-
half of the delegates of France and the United
States, and in the name of their respective gov-
ernments, read a declaration stating, 1, that the
depression and great fluctuations of the value of
silver relatively to gold are injurious to commerce
and to the general prosperity, and that the estab-
lishment of a fixed relation of value between
them would produce most important benefits to
the commerce of the world; 2, that a bi-metallic
convention entered into between an important
group of states for the free coinage of both silver
and gold at a fixed ratio and with full legal ten-
der faculty, would cause and maintain a stability
in the relative value of the two metals suitable to
the interests and requirements of commerce; 3,
that any ratio now or lately in use by any com-
mercial nation, if so adopted, could be main-
tained, but that the adoption of the ratio of fifteen
and one-half to one would accomplish the object
with less disturbance to existing monetary sys-
tems than any other ratio; 4, that a convention
which should include England, France, Germany
and the United States, with the concurrence of
other states which this combination would assure,
would be adequate to produce and maintain
throughout the commercial world the relation
between the two metals that such convention
should adopt. The president said that a consid-
erable number of delegates had expressed a desire
to see the conference suspend its labors and ad-
journ to some later date. He suggested that this
subject should be discussed. Mr. Forssell (Swe-
den) objected to this proposal as likely to lead to
no practical result, while it would give a charac-
ter of permanence to the conference which was
not contemplated or authorized by the govern-
ments represented. It would be better to ac-
knowledge at once that the projects of bi-metallism
had collapsed, and to reaffirm the conclusions of
the European delegates at the conference of 1878.
Baron von Thielmann (Germany) asked that the
reasons for adjourning the conference to a future
date beformulated. After a recess of twenty min-
utes, the president read an explanatory resolution
saying that, considering the speeches and observa-
tions of the delegates and the declarations of the
68 PARLEY.
PARLIAMENT.
several governments, there is ground for believing
that an understanding may be established between
the states which have taken part in the confer-
ence, but that it is expedient to suspend its meet-
ings; that the monetary situation may, as to some
states, call for governmental action, and that
there is reason for giving an opportunity for
diplomatic negotiations; therefore the conference
adjourns to Wednesday, April 12, 1882. The
resolution of adjournment was supported by Mr.
De Normandie, Mr. Pirmez, Lord Reay, Count
von Kuefstein and Mr. Brock. Mr. Forssell with-
drew his objection. The resolution was adopt-
ed. On motion of Baron von Thielmann, the
thanks of the conference were awarded to the
president for the impartiality with which he had
directed the proceedings. . The conference then
separated. It did not reassemble at the time
fixed in the resolution of adjournment. There
has been no public statement of the reasons why
it was not reconvened. HORACE WHITE.
PARLEY. Two hostile armies often have
need, even in the very midst of hostilities, of hold-
ing some correspondence with each other; for
example, concerning the burial of the dead or the
exchange of prisoners, or to propose a capitu-
lation, to arrange for a suspension of arms, etc.
This correspondence is effected by means of
persons charged with the parley. In antiquity,
at least in Greece and Rome, as well as in the
middle ages, the persons sent to conduct the par-
ley were always heralds, that is to say, men who
held that office, not only for a special mission,
but, in a way, permanently. Heralds fill a large
place in Homer's poems, and many passages bear
witness to the profound respect which was paid
For example, Tal-
thybius and Eurybates, sent by Agamemnon to
them in those remote times.
demand Briseis from Achilles, stopped overcome
with terror at the door of the hero’s tent; but the
latter saluted them with these words: “Welcome,
sacred heralds, ministers of gods and of men, you
are innocent of the insult which I receive.” For
a long time the custom has been simply to send as
parlementaères, officers accompanied by a drum-
mer or a fifer, bearing a white flag. — The inviola-
bility of the parlementaère (person of truce),
which appears to have been founded in antiquity
upon the sacred and almost priestly character of
the herald, rests to-day upon international law.
It is one of the oldest, most elementary and most
essential regulations of this law.
says Cicero, “6jusmod; esse debet, quod non modo
2nter Sociorum jura, Sed etiam inter hostium tela
Žncolume versetup.”
ciple, not only injures his adversary of the mo-
ment, but, to use Wattel's expression, “he in-
jures the common security and safety of na-
tions; he renders himself guilty of an atrocious
crime against all peoples.” It would not do to
allow any departure from this Sacred rule, even
in civil war and toward the envoy of a party
which is considered, rightly or wrongly, as rebell-
“Women legati,”
Whoever attacks this prin-
ious; but there is always the right to refuse to
admit a parlémentaère, or person of truce, or to
make his admission subject to such conditions as
may seem proper; for example, that he shall be
introduced into the lines with his eyes bandaged.
Once admitted, the parlementaire should be pro-
tected, not only against all bad treatment, but
against all insult.* The parlementaère is not
obliged spontaneously to close his eyes and ears
during the course of his mission, and he has a
perfect right to Observe what he is allowed to see,
sometimes with design, and to let his side take
advantage of his observations. But if he should
abuse his character to act as a spy and to concoct
plots, he would expose himself to be ignomin-
iously expelled; he might even, in certain cases,
be deprived of his immunities, be detained as a
prisoner, or even be put to death. The rigor of
the law can even go to this extremity; but it is
almost always not only more humane, but even
more politic, not to have recourse to it, and to
respect the character of the parlementaère, even
in those who have abused it.
- GASTON DE BOURGE.
PARLIAMENT, The British, is the supreme
legislature of the United Kingdom, and its history
is, to a large extent, the history of the growth of
political freedom. The attempts to trace the ori-
gin of this parliament to the Saxon period fail to
connect the Wittena-gemote (meeting of wise men)
with the representative principle, the hereditary
character, or the royal summons, three character-
istics of the present British parliament, which are
deemed essentials of its constitution. It is by act
of the crown alone that parliament can be assem-
bled; only twice have the lords and commons met
by their own authority—first, before the restora-
tion of Charles II., and again at the revolution in
1688. Parliament is also prorogued (adjourned
to a certain day), or dissolved by royal proclama-
tion only. — While the main constitution of par-
liament, as Blackstone says, was marked out
in magna charta, A. D. 1215, when King John
promised to summon the nobles, bishops, etc., to
council, its actual first existence is commonly re-
ferred to the year 1265, when the writs of Simon
de Montfort first summoned knights, citizens and
burgesses to parliament. From that time parlia-
ment has consisted continuously of two houses,
the lords and the commons, while the Saxon
Wittend-gemote and later councils consisted of one
chamber only. The creation of a house of Com-
mons elected by the people (or by the property
element), may be said to have had its birth in that
jealous care of the rights of property, so all-pervad-
# The institution of parley is useful to the strong as well
as to the weak; not to respect it is not only a crime, but also,
for each, a very grave fault against his own interest. It
sometimes happens in war that a parlementaire is killed;
we believe this is always by mistake. The flag has not, per-
haps, been seen, or, if the envoy presents himself during a
battle, which is generally a very inopportune moment, he
may be accidentally wounded.— M. B.
PARLIAMENT.
69
ing in the British mind. The early kings had so
abused the power of raising money, and the lords
and bishops were so subservient to the royal will,
that it became necessary to have the check of an
elective body to assert and jealously maintain con-
trol over the taxing power. This control, claimed
and exercised by the lower house of parliament
for centuries, is so absolute that all bills, whether
for the raising or the expenditure of money, must
originate in the commons. The successive steps
by which the important power over the public
purse was transferred from the king to the com-
mons, is a history of determination on the one
hand and of stubborn resistance on the other, the
English monarchs using every wile to secure Sup-
plies, which the parliament stubbornly refused
except on condition of redress of grievances.
The steady increase of the power of parliament
during the reigns of the arbitrary house of Tudor,
culminated during the Stuart dynasty in that
struggle for supremacy between Charles I. and his
parliament, which ended in the complete victory
of the latter, the subversion of the monarchy,
the abolition of the house of lords, and the estab-
lishment of the commonwealth. — The duration
of a parliament, outside of the Seven years' limit-
ation embodied in the act of 1715, is dependent
upon the policy and measures of the ministry
commanding a majority in the lower house.
Practically, the average life of a parliament in
the present century has been less than four years;
the shortest one having lasted only four and one-
half months (in 1807), and the longest a little
over six years. The “appeal to the country,”
caused by the resignation of ministers who fail
to command a majority, is made through writs of
election. The last general election was in 1880,
returning 338 liberals, 239 conservatives, and 60
home rulers. Members are chosen by what is
regarded in England as nearly universal suffrage.
There are, however, but 3,181,701 actual voters
(in 1883) out of the population of 35,246,633, or
about one in every eleven inhabitants: while in
France and in the United'States, where manhood
suffrage is really universal, the proportion of
voters to the population is one in every four or
five inhabitants. The reform act of 1867–8 was
a large extension of the franchise, giving it to all
householders in boroughs (cities and towns), and
to occupants of lands or houses bringing £12 rent
or upward in counties, or in the country. This
leaves the large class of agricultural and other
laborers unrepresented. Since 1872 parliamentary
elections are by secret ballot. (See BALLOT.)—
The omnipotence of parliament is regarded as
the great feature in British polity. “The power
and jurisdiction of parliament,” says Coke, “is so
transcendent and absolute that it can not be con-
fined, either for causes or persons, within any
bounds.” It wields not only the whole legislative
power, but, for nearly two hundred years past,
the executive power as well. In theory, the
queen appoints the ministers or heads of admin-
istrative departments; in practice, these heads can
be no other than the representatives of the will
of the house of commons for the time being.
What is called the government of England em-
braces not only the cabinet, but from forty to
fifty political heads of departments, who quit
their places with every change of administration.
These changes, as we have seen, occurring every
four years on an average, are effected by the
majority in the house of commons, and this in its
turn is dependent upon qualified suffrage. The
powers of parliament are theoretically divided
between three co-ordinate branches—the crown,
the peers, and the commons—for the sovereign is,
by the constitution, a part of parliament, having
to be present in person or by proxy, and every
law requiring the royal assent to its passage. The
veto power, still lodged in the crown, has not
been exercised since 1707, or for nearly two cen-
turies. The house of lords, which has in theory
equal law-making powers with the commons, can
really do little but register the edicts of the latter.
Although there are some measures of policy,
such as the right of Catholics and Jews to sit in
parliament, the extension of the suffrage, and the
reduction or abolition of taxes or prescriptive
privilege, upon which the stubborn opposition of
the lords has for years stood in the path of reform,
that reform has always sooner or later been car-
ried. The political history of England is one
long testimony to the weakness of precedent and
prerogative when standing in opposition to the
power of an enlightened public opinion. — It
may appear Something like a paradox to assert
that the powers of the popular branch of parlia-
ment are even greater now than in the days of
Cromwell, when both the throne and the house
of peers were abolished, and all sovereignty was
Swallowed up in a parliament of one chamber.
Yet it is apparent that, with the single exception
of the judicial power, which is still reserved to
the house of lords, the commons of England,
through their legislation and through their cabinet,
wield a far more comprehensive authority than
did the long parliament under the lord protector.
The very constitution of the kingdom, that un-
written yet all-controlling governmental power, is
nothing but the net result of the long series of
parliamentary assertions and statutes, down to
the latest embodiment of administrative power
in the cabinet, which is defined by Bagehot as “a
committee of the legislative body, selected to be
the executive body.” — The organization of par-
liament is attended with great formālity. The
lord chancellor announces to the house of com-
mons (previously summoned by the gentleman
usher of the black rod to attend in the house of
lords) that as soon as the members of both houses
shall be sworn, her majesty will declare the causes
of her calling this parliament; and further re-
quests them to choose their speaker, who must be
presented in the house of lords the day after, for
the royal approbation. This being done, the
speaker formally claims, on behalf of the com-
mons, “all their ancient and undoubted rights
70
PARLIAMENT.
and privileges.” These being graciously con-
firmed, the commons, with the speaker, withdraw
to their own chamber: then follows the taking of
the oaths, and an address in answer to the speech
from the throne. — The queen's speech is delivered
in the house of lords by herself in person, or by
the lord chancellor, reading it in her presence, or
by commissioners whom she appoints (and this is
called opening parliament by commission). Be-
fore this, neither house can proceed with any
business. The lord high chancellor presides as
speaker of the house of lords. The presence of
forty members or upward is required in the com-
mons to constitute a quorum (the whole number
of members in 1882 being 652). In the house of
lords, which consists of 516 members, business
may proceed with only three peers present. The
parliament is obliged to meet at least as often as
once a year. Customarily, the annual sessions of
parliament begin early in February, and end some
time in August; but this depends upon the public
business, the ministry, and the concurrence of the
two houses, so that parliament not unfrequently
has a special session in November, or else does
not rise until September, long after the close of
the London “season.” The opening of the daily
session (formerly at 10 o'clock, and later at 12 M.)
is now fixed at 4 P. M.–except morning sit-
tings for private business, or toward the close of
a session, in which cases the house resumes at
the hour of 6 P. M.–the sittings often con-
tinuing far into the night. Both houses are
opened with a fixed ceremony. At ten minutes
to four, two gentlemen in court suits of black,
steel buckles and swords, accompanied by a third,
carrying a huge golden mace upon his shoulder,
precede the speaker, who is dressed in a full-
bottomed wig and robes of black silk, and who
enters the house followed by a train-bearer, chap-
lain and secretary, to the cry of “Way for Mr.
Speaker! Hats off for Mr. Speaker!” Then all
persons must be uncovered, except only the mem-
bers of the house of commons, whose peculiar
privilege it is to wear their hats, a right usually
exercised except when speaking. The chaplain
reads prayers; the strangers' and reporters' gal-
leries are then opened; the members present are
counted. If after four o'clock there are not forty
present, the house is adjourned till the next day.
At half past four public business begins (half an
hour being devoted to private business and peti-
tions), after which the leading members of the
government are all found in their places to answer
any questions put by members of the house, of
which one day’s notice has been given. The
house of lords usually meets at 5 P. M., but fre-
quently sits as a court of appeal during the day,
when it is open to the public like other judicial
tribunals. At other times admission to the stran-
gers' gallery is had only through a peer’s order.
In the house of lords the bishops always sit to-
gether, and the members of the administration
occupy a front bench on the right of the wool-
sack (speaker's chair). The peers who vote with
the government occupy the benches on the same
side of the house ; the peers in opposition are
ranged on opposite benches. In the commons no
particular places are allotted to members; but the
front bench on the speaker's right is occupied by
the members of the administration, while the
leading members of the opposition usually take
the front bench on the other side of the speaker's
chair. The mass of members sit somewhat pro-
miscuously, though approximately divided into
supporters of the government, occupying benches.
on the right of the chair, and members of the op-
position party on the left. The members of par-
liament in both houses serve without salary.
Members elected to the house of commons serve
as such until the next general election for a new
parliament. — It was formerly illegal to publish
any of the proceedings or debates in parliament;
and history records a long series of exclusions,
punishments for contempt, and disgraceful perse-
cutions against writers and printers who had pre-
sumed to make the people acquainted with what.
was said and done in parliament. At length,
however, all restrictions were removed, and the
daily press contains pretty full reports. Besides.
this, effected by private enterprise, “Hansard’s.
Debates” are a full report (though in the third per-
son) of the speeches made in both houses, taken in
short-hand, and paid for, though not published,
by the government. The journals of the house of
lords have been printed officially ever since 1509,
and those of the commons since 1547, in great.
folio volumes, with numerous indexes. – The re-
strictions as to who may be elected members of
the house of commons have been gradually re-
moved, and since 1870 any subject over twenty-
one years of age (even a naturalized alien) is eli-
gible to election to parliament, except clergymen,
contractors, judges, peers, bankrupts and office-
holders. In several instances members elect,
below the legal age have been permitted to sit.
Curiously enough, dissenting clergymen may be
members of the commons, while those of the
church of England, the established religion, are
excluded, although bishops sit in the house of
lords. The houses of parliament do not adjourn
on Occasion of the death or funeral of mem-
bers of the body, nor are there any mortuary
eulogies on such occasions. – Although members
of parliament serve without salary, the expenses
of their election are frequently very heavy. The
honor or reputation incident to a seat in parlia-
ment, as well as the influence which it enables a
man of talent to wield, counts for much. It is not
uncommon in vigorously contested elections to
have from £1,000 to £5,000 expended in the nu-
merous appliances for political meetings, printing
and publishing, lights, brass bands, decorated
hustings, and other devices to rouse and to keep up
popular enthusiasm. Bribery, also, was formerly
a too common channel for expenditure, but since
the abolition of the rotten boroughs, the stringent
anti-bribery laws, and the adoption of the secret
ballot, the control of votes by purchase has been
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
71
greatly diminished. — Members of the commons
have not the right to resign their places. To ac-
complish this object one must ask to be appointed
“steward of the Chiltern Hundreds,” an old and
nominal office, without any functions, which is
given to any member who applies for it. By this
pleasant fiction a member can get out of parlia-
ment without violating the law which requires
him to serve out the term for which he is elected.
— If the Sovereign dies during a recess of parlia-
ment, it must convene immediately; and if it has
been dissolved, it may resume its powers for a
period of six months. All bills affecting the
rights or privileges of the peerage must be offered
in the house of lords, and can only be amended
by the commons. All motions proposed in the
house of commons are required to have a second;
but this rule is not enforced in the house of lords.
In neither house of parliament is any journal read
Of the previous day’s proceedings. – In the prog-
ress of business the ministers have the precedence
in bringing forward motions of every kind.— In
taking a vote in the house of lords the members
vote in the order of their rank, the lords voting
in the affirmative answering “Content,” and those
opposed, “Not content.” Each peer might vote
by proxy for two absentees until 1868, when the
practice was discontinued by a standing order.
In the house of commons the members vote
“Aye” or “No,” instead of “Content” or “ Not
content.” When the vote is counted the ayes
pass into a lobby on the right, and the noes into
one on the left: in each room is a secretary, who
Checks off the names of members on a printed
list, aided by two tellers appointed by the speaker.
The tellers report the figures of the vote to the
Speaker, who announces it in open house. — The
speaker of the house of commons is precluded
from participating in debate on legislative busi-
ness; but in the lords the presiding officer, if a
member of the body, may leave the chair and
Speak in his character of a peer. On the other
hand, he has no casting vote ; if the lords are
evenly divided, the question is lost. But if the
house of commons is tied, it becomes the duty of
the speaker to give the casting vote, which deter-
mines the question one way or the other. — The
following table exhibits the duration of each par-
liament since the accession of Henry VIII. in 1509:
21 Jan. 1509–23 Feb. 1509 29 Oct. 1586–23 Mar. 1587
4 Feb. 1511– 4 Mar. 1513 4 Feb. 1588–29 Mar. 1588
5 Feb. 1514–22 Dec. 1515 19 Nov. 1592–10 Apr. 1593
15 Apr. 1523–13 Aug. 1523 24 Oct. 1597– 9 Feb. 1598
3 Nov. 1530– 4 Apr. 1536 7 Oct. 1601–29 Dec. 1601
8 June, 1536—18 July, 1536 19 Mar. 1603– 9 Feb. 1611
28 Apr. 1539–24 July, 1540 5 Apr. 1614– 7 June, 1614
16 Jan. 1541–29 Mar. 1544 16 Jan. 1620– 8 Feb. 1621
23 Nov. 1545–31 Jan. 1547 12 Feb. 1623–24 Mar. 1625
8 Nov. 1547–15 Apr. 1552 17 May, 1625–12 Aug. 1625
1 Mar. 1553–31 Mar. 1553 6 Feb. 1626–15 June, 1626
5 Oct. 1553– 6 Dec. 1553 17 Mar. 1627–10 Mar. 1628
2 Apr. 1554–5 May, 1554 13 Apr. 1640– 5 May, 1640
12 Nov. 1554–16 Jan. 1555 3 Nov. 1640–20 Apr. 1653
21 Oct. 1555– 9 Dec. 1555 25 Apr. 1660–29 Dec. 1660
20 Jan. 1557–-17 Nov. 1557 8 May, 1661–24 Jan. 1678
23 Jan. 1558— 8 May, 1558 6 Mar. 1679–12 July, 1679
11 Jan. 1562– 2 Jan. 1567 17 Oct. 1679–18 Jan. 1681
2 Apr. 1571–29 May, 1571 21 Mar. 1681–28 Mar. 1681
8 May, 1572–18 Mar. 1580 12 Mar. 1685–28 July, 1687
23 Nov. 1585–14 Sept. 1586 22 Jan. 1688–26 Feb. 1689
20 Mar. 1689—31 Oct. 1695
22 Nov. 1695–7 July, 1698
24 Aug. 1698–19 Dec. 1700
6 Feb. 1700–11 Nov. 1701
30 Dec. 1701– 7 July, 1702
20 Aug. 1702– 5 Apr. 1705
14 June, 1705–15 Apr. 1708
8 July, 1708–21 Sept. 1710
25 Nov. 1710—8 Aug. 1713
12 Nov. 1713–15 Jan. 1715
17 Mar. 1715–10 Mar. 1721
10 May, 1722– 5 Aug. 1727
28 Nov. 1727–18 Apr. 1734
13 June, 1734–27 Apr. 1741
25 June, 1741–18 June, 1747
13 Aug. 1747– 8 Apr. 1754
31 May, 1754–20 Mar. 1761
19 May, 1761–12 Mar. 1768
10 May, 1768–30 Sept. 1774
29 Nov. 1774– 1 Sept. 1780
31 Oct. 1780–25 Mar. 1784
18 May, 1784–11 June, 1790
27 Sept. 1796–29 June, 1802
31 Aug. 1802—24 Oct. 1806
15 Dec. 1806–29 Apr. 1807
22 June, 1807–29 Sept. 1812
24 Nov. 1812–10 June, 1818
4 Aug. 1818–29 Feb. 1820
23 Apr. 1820– 2 June, 1826
14 Nov. 1826–24 July, 1830
26 Oct. 1830–22 Apr. 1831
14 June, 1831 – 3 Dec. 1832
29 Jan. 1833–30 Dec. 1834
19 Feb. 1835–17 July, 1837
11 Sept. 1837—23 June, 1841
19 Aug. 1841–23 July, 1847
11 Sept. 1847— 1 July, 1852
4 Nov. 1852–21 Mar. 1857
30 Apr. 1857—23 Apr. 1859
31 May, 1859– 6 July, 1865
1 Feb. 1866–11 Nov. 1868
10 Dec. 1868–26 Jan. 1874
5 Mar. 1874–24 Mar. 1880
29 Apr. 1880–) Present
25 Nov. 1790–19 May, 1796 | Parliament
See GREAT BRITAIN, HOUSE OF COMMONS, HousB,
OF LORDS, PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W. —BIBLIOGRA-
PHY. Cobbett (W.), Parliamentary History of
Jºngland, 1606–1803, 36 vols.; Hansard’s Par-
liamentary Debates, 3 series, 1803–83, 343 vols.;
Journals of the House of Commons, 1547–1883,
138 vols. ; Journals of the House of Lords,
1509–1883, 115 vols.; Standing Orders of the
Bouse of Commons, 1882; Standing Orders of
House of Lords, 1876; Parliamentary Reports,
Accounts, and Papers, 1812–83, about 5,000
folio vols.; May (T. E.), Treatise on the Law,
Prévèleges, Proceedings and Usage of Parliament,
8th ed., 1879; Hallam (H.), Constitutional History
of England, new ed., 3 vols., 1872; May (T. E.),
Constitutional History of England since the accession
of George III., 1760 to 1870, 5th ed., 3 vols., 1871;
Hatsell (J.), Precedents and Proceedings ºn the
JHouse of Commons, 4 vols., 1818; Townsend (W.
C.), History of the House of Commons, 1688–1832,
2 vols., 1843; Todd (A.), On Parliamentary Gov-
ernment in England, 2 vols., 1867; Grey (Earl),
Parliamentary Government, 1867; Cooke (G. W.),
History of Party, 3 vols., 1840; Dod (C. R.), Par-
liamentary Companion, 1833–83; Bisset (A.),
Böstory of the Struggle for Parliamentary Govern-
ſment ºn England, 2 vols., 1877.
A. R. SPOFFORD.
T” ARLIAMENTARY L.A.W. This term is
commonly used to designate the formal rules, and
precedents having the force of rules, which gov-
ern the proceedings of legislative bodies. In a
larger sense parliamentary law is held to regulate
the course of business in all deliberative assem-
blies, public meetings, societies, conventions, and
voluntary organizations of every description. In
countries where the principle of representative
government is firmly established, nothing can be
more important than a clearly defined, well-estab-
lished, and firmly-adhered-to system of conducting
legislative business in such manner as to preserve
at once the equality and independence of the rep-
resentatives and the rights of the people. It is also
most important that the public business should
proceed in an established order, and with as little
interruption and delay from controversy upon side
issues as possible. Yet the endless and oft-renewed
72
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
discussions in congress and legislatures upon
points of parliamentary order, or upon the proper
way to proceed with the business in hand, attest
at once the confusion of mind of the average
legislator, and the indefiniteness of the parliament-
ary law itself. So far from constituting a system-
atic code, by which difficult or doubtful ques-
tions can be settled with precision, what parlia-
mentary law we have is largely made up of rules
subject to constant change, and of precedents
liable to be reversed. “What is the law upon
any subject,” said an eminent lecturer on juris-
prudence, “is hidden in the breasts of our judges,
and can only be ascertained by experiment;” and
the great uncertainty which attends the adminis-
tration of the rules which are presumed to govern
public bodies might lead one to conclude that what
is parliamentary law upon any occasion is hidden
in the breast of the speaker, or the president, or the
moderator, or the chairman, and has little other
force than his decision. While such decisions are
at all times subject to the test of an appeal from
the presiding officer to the assembly, experience
shows that the time wasted in long debates often
proves a more costly obstruction to the progress
of public business than any supposed advan-
tage in establishing a principle. It has been
computed that almost one-third of the time of
the annual sessions of congress, and nearly One-
third of the pages of the costly and voluminous
official record, are consumed upon points of
order. In parliamentary bodies where there is
no restriction upon debate, as in the Senate,
time enough has frequently been wasted in dis-
cussion whether to take up a certain measure
to have fully debated the measure itself pro and
com., and to have passed or to have rejected it
besides. There are growing signs, in and Out of
congress, that the progress of public business will
be more insisted upon than the right of unlimited
utterance, or “the superstition of talk,” which
is an advertisement of the individual. Parlia-
mentary action is very rarely affected by long
speeches, or by sharp or finely-drawn distinc-
tions of what may or may not be done under
the rules. The loss of the precious and unreturn-
ing hours which should be given wholly to the
well-considered legislation of a great people, in
frivolous disputes over inadmissible motions and
points of order, leaves so little time that the most
important public measures are imperfectly dis-
cussed, hastily considered, and crudely framed
into law, while the soul of the intelligent legis-
lator is vexed continually, and the legislature
itself is brought into contempt. Amid the mass
of good and bad precedents, and of rules heaped
upon rules, it is not strange to find that the
business of direct legislation is hindered rather
than helped. What the legislator requires, but
does not find, is simplicity instead of intricacy,
and an assured standard of appeal instead of a
jumble of conflicting decisions. Equally impor-
tant is it to the ready dispatch of business in
conventions and public meetings that there should
be a recognized code of procedure, as well as a
firm, skillful and courteous presiding officer to
enforce it. — The origin of the great body of what
is recognized as parliamentary law is directly
traceable to the usages of the British parliament
(treated in a preceding article). From the days
of the anonymous “Order and Wsage of Keep-
ing of the Parlements in England,” by John
Hooker, published at London in 1572, (the earliest
publication on the subject of which we find rec-
ord), to the latest edition of Sir Thomas Erskine
May's elaborate “Treatise on the Law, Privileges,
Proceedings and Usage of Parliament,” the Eng-
lish books are the fountains from which the
American and in great part the continental treat-
ises on the subject are drawn. It were greatly to
be wished that along with the formal principles
and precedents of the science (if so it can be
called) we had also drawn from them one of the
best features in the practice. Perhaps there is no
element in the conduct of our legislative business
more palpably a source of weakness than the fact
that in the parliaments of America there is no
responsibility for measures. In the house of com-
mons, as in the legislative assemblies of nearly all
European nations, the ministry are not only pres-
ent, but are held to a direct responsibility. The
party which has been for the time being intrusted
with the conduct of the government, brings in its
measures, supposed to be in consonance with the
‘public will, and explains and defends them in de-
bate. All appropriations (bills of Supply) needed
to carry on the government, and embracing the
army, the navy and the civil service, are thus
brought in and supported by able men familiar
with all their details, because concerned in the
administration of each department. Not only so,
but most measures of the session demanded by
public opinion, whether connected with parlia-
mentary reform, education, public morals, or the
widely diversified interests of the United King-
dom at home or abroad, find in the ministry on
the floor of parliament vigilant advocates, court-
ing and not shunning debate, answering objec-
tions, and ready to take the responsibility of
success, or the result of failure, which will Con-
sign them from their places of power to private
life. How wide the difference in our American
legislatures. There, no executive officer can be so
much as questioned respecting the acts, the de-
mands or the service of his department, except in
the furtive obscurity of a committee room. The
only responsibility for public measures which at-
taches anywhere resides in one or at most two
committees of the house, overwhelmed with
multifarious business, and utterly unable, though
never so competent, to make themselves masters
of the infinite detail of the bills they present, and
give attention at the same time to other public
business, and to the never-ending wants of their
constituents. Candid confession comes from One
baffled congress after another that under the exist-
ing practice no systematic law-making is possible.
Instead of a well-digested, clear and easily ad-
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
73
ministered body of laws, the statute book is filled
with crudities and contradictions which those who
administer them are unable to reconcile. It is
some consolation, doubtless, to reflect, in presence
of the 8,000 to 12,000 bills that do not become
laws with which every congress is flooded, how
much greater calamities we have escaped. What
is true of congress is true in a modified sense
of all the state legislatures: the mass of crude
legislation which is irresponsibly gotten through,
places before the executive a perilous task of
arresting it by vigorous use of the veto power,
or the perhaps still more perilous responsibility
of approval. — For the sake of greater clear-
ness and facility of reference, the various sub-
jects embraced under Parliamentary Law will
here be treated in alphabetical order. Substan-
tially the same course of proceeding here noted
as prevailing in congress is followed in the leg-
islatures of the several states of the Union, with
many variations as to details, according to the
rules adopted by each body. — ABSENCE. The
presence of members of the body is taken for
granted in all representative assemblies, as due to
their constituents. This can only be suspended
by leave of absence, or employment in the service
of the body. Absenteeism embarrasses business,
and is unjust to other members, as well as to those
represented; yet it sometimes goes So far in pro-
tracted sessions as to threaten the loss of a quo-
rum. In congress, the constitution itself empow-
ers less than a quorum to compel attendance of
absentees; a rule of the house prohibits absence
except from actual necessity or with leave; and no
senator can be absent without leave first obtained.
The statutes require deduction of salary pro rata,
for absence of a Senator or representative, except
for sickness of himself or family. In both houses,
when votes by yeas and nays are recorded, the
names of members absent (or not voting because
paired) are published in the journal. In parlia-
ment leave of absence is usually given in case of
domestic affliction or urgent business, but it is
occasionally refused. In the French chambers
absence is not allowed without leave of the body
except in urgent cases, when the president may
grant it. Requests for leave of absence are re-
ported upon by a committee and announced by
the president. The salary of deputies is stopped
when absent without leave. — ADJOURNMENT. A.
motion to adjourn takes precedence of all others.
It may be made at any time (except when a
member is speaking, or the house is voting) unless
a motion to adjourn has just previously been neg-
atived: it is not debatable, nor can it be amended.
The unfinished business cut off by adjournment
generally has precedence in the Orders of the day;
and this is an express rule of the house and sen-
ate. No adjournment for more than three days
is permitted to either house of congress by the
constitution, unless the other house concurs. If
the houses disagree as to the time of adjournment,
the president may adjourn them to such time as
he thinks proper. In parliament the motion to
adjourn is debatable, and may be amended as to
time of adjournment. In the commons the speaker
adjourns the house when a quorum is found want-
ing, and the fact is noted; but in both houses of
Congress business may proceed without a quorum
by unanimous consent, or until the question of a
quorum is raised by a division. After this no
motion is in order except for a call of the house,
Or to adjourn. In the French chambers, before
each day's adjournment, the president consults
the chamber as to the day and hour of its next
meeting, as well as the subjects to be considered.
— AMENDMENT. Any alteration proposed to a mo-
tion or to a bill is an amendment. Amendments
are often proposed to defeat a proposition, as well
as to promote its object. Amendments may be
simply to strike out a portion, or to insert new
matter, or to strike out, and insert in place of the
matter stricken out. They are to be offered in
the order of sequence, if the proposition being
considered consists of several sections or para-
graphs. It is not in order to refer back and
amend parts which have been considered, after a
latter part has been amended. Every amendment
proposed is itself capable of amendment; but
there can be no amendment in the third degree,
Ż. e., of an amendment to an amendment. To ac-
complish such an object the mover should seek to
have the amendment to the amendment rejected,
then moving his amendment as an alternative,
with due notice to the body of the intent to be ac-
complished. A rule of the house permits a third
amendment by way of substitute, to which one
amendment may be offered. Amendments once
agreed to or rejected can not afterward be altered
or amended. Motions to amend may be withdrawn
or modified before the previous question is ordered,
but not afterward ; and amendments withdrawn
may be offered again at a further stage of pro-
ceeding. Amendments in parliament need not
be of the same subject matter with the proposi-
tion before the body. A member may move to
substitute a wholly different proposition for the
one moved, and such an amendment is to be
voted upon. But in committee of the whole
house this rule does not apply, the house being
authorized only to consider the subject referred
to it. In congress no amendment is to be admit-
ted on a subject different from that under consid-
eration. In amendments the form of words, and
not their substance, is concerned; and as anything
may be moved, the opponents of a motion often
attempt its defeat by rendering a proposition ab-
surd or obnoxious, or even reversing its substance,
so that its supporters join with its opponents to
defeat it. No amendment can be in order which
contravenes the law or the standing or special
orders of either house, or which is the same with
any proposition already voted upon during the
same sitting. An amendment to strike out is in
this country put directly, but in parliament the
speaker puts the question whether the Words pro-
posed to be stricken out shall stand as part of the
Question. If an amendment to leave out is passed,
74
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
it is not in order to move to insert the words left
out in the same place, but they may be moved in
another place. The same rules apply as to amend-
ments by insertion. Motions to amend, being
properly considered previous to what it is pro-
posed to amend, take precedence, and the ques-
tion is first taken on the amendment; the same
rule applies to an amendment of an amendment.
Amendments moved by a member who has al-
ready spoken can not in parliament be introduced
by a speech. In congress the opposite rule pre-
Vails. In congress no amendment to an appro-
priation bill is in order which increases expendi-
ture or provides for expenditure not previously
authorized by law, or which changes existing
law. To the last an exception is made admitting
amendments which are germane to the subject
matter and at the same time retrench expenditure.
In committee of the whole it is usual to limit de-
bate upon proposed amendments to five minutes
for each speaker; but the majority may at any
moment close all debate upon any paragraph or
pending amendment; whereupon further amend-
ments may be offered, to be decided without de-
bate. Any bill sent by one house to the other is
subject to amendment in all its parts; when re-
turned, the usual course is to disagree to the
amendments as a whole or in part. If each house
adheres to its disagreement, the bill or resolution
is lost; but the differences are commonly adjusted
by a committee of conference, whose report is
usually accepted by both houses. No bill can be
amended after the agreement of both houses.
Amendments do not require a second in congress;
in the house of commons every amendment must
be proposed and seconded the same as an original
motion. In the French chambers amendments
are offered through the president, who refers them
to the committee having similar measures in
charge. They are printed, and their authors
have the right to be heard before the commit-
tee. — APPEAL. The presiding officer's decisions
upon questions of order are made. Subject to an
appeal to the assembly. It is optional with the
chair to decide the point of order himself, or to sub-
mit it to the body. In the house of representatives
the speaker must decide. If any member appeals
from the decision of the chair the question is then
put, “Shall the decision of the chair stand as the
judgment of the body ?” If the decision is not
sustained, the chair is overruled by a majority of
the members, and such a vote forms a precedent of
some importance on similar questions. A motion
to lay the appeal on the table, if carried, has the
effect to sustain the decision of the chair. This
motion can not be made in committee of the whole.
Questions of order just decided on appeal can not
be renewed. In parliament the speaker of the
lords as well as of the commons refers most ques-
tions of order directly to the judgment of the
house; the process of an appeal appears not to be
provided for. — APPROPRIATIONS. In parliament
all bills granting supplies to carry on the govern-
ment (money bills) must originate in the house of
commons; and in 1678 this prerogative was carried
So far as to exclude the lords from all power of
amending bills of supply. This exclusive power
has been jealously maintained by the commons
for more than two centures. In congress a simi-
lar claim for the house of representatives to orig-
inate all appropriation bills has been made, but
not insisted on nor maintained; though the consti-
tutional privilege of the house to originate all bills
for raising revenue has always been jealously
adhered to. The house committee on appropria-
tions was first formed in 1865, to relieve the com.
mittee of ways and means of part of its too onerous
duties. The Senate committee on appropriations.
was organized in 1867, its functions having been
previously vested in the committee of finance. In
Congress appropriation bills always have prece-
dence, and may be reported at anytime. They must
be considered in committee of the whole house on
the state of the Union. By one rule of the house
and Senate they must not embrace expenditures
not previously authorized by law, nor provisions,
changing existing law; but such provisions are
frequently incorporated by the committees report-
ing them. The yeas and nays must be recorded
on their passage in the house, but not necessarily
in the senate. After being considered and de-
bated in committee of the whole, the bill is re-
ported to the house for passage; but a separate vote
is taken upon any clauses or amendments upon
which any member claims the right to divide the
house. In the French chambers the budget is in
charge of a committee of thirty-three members, to
whom are referred all matters of public revenue
or expenditure. — ARREST. (See Privilege).”—
AYES AND NOEs. (See Yeas and Ways.) —
BALLOT. Voting by ballot, while it preserves.
secrecy, is out of favor in legislative bodies, and
the constitutions of eleven states require all votes
taken in the legislature to be vivá voce. In other
states it is left to the legislature to regulate its own
methods of voting. A rule of the house makes a
majority of the votes given necessary to an elec-
tion. When the house votes by ballot the speaker
is required to vote. For many years past no vote.
by ballot has occurred in either house of congress,
the speaker and the president pro tem. Of the Sen-
ate having been elected by vivá voce votes. The
other officers of each house are chosen by resolu-
tion by the controlling party, the minority usually
proposing and voting for their own candidates by
way of substitute. In parliament secret commit-
tees are usually chosen by ballot. The speaker of
the commons is chosen upon motion and Second
by assent or informal vote, unless the house di-
vides, when the usual count of votes is had. (See
BALLOT, vol. i., p. 197; Vote.)— BAR. The bar
of the house implies the railing in the rear of the
outer seats of members. Formerly members were
required to be within this bar in order to vote;
now, a member may vote on a roll-call from any
* References given in italics, are to subjects treated in
this article; those given in small capitals, are to articles in
the Cyclopaedia at large.
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
75.
place within the hall. In counting the house he
must be within the railing. In another sense, the
bar of a legislative body is the area in front of
the presiding officer; and offenders are brought
to the bar to be examined, tried, admonished, rep-
rimanded, imprisoned or discharged, as the case
may be. The speaker appears, followed by the
commons, at the bar of the house of lords on cere-
monious occasions. Members of the commons
not yet sworn must sit below the bar. —BILLS.
A bill is any proposed act of legislation, com-
mencing with the formula, “Be it enacted,” etc.
Every Monday in the house of representatives
the speaker must call the states and territories,
through their members, for bills offered for print-
ing and reference without debate. In the Senate
one day’s notice for bringing in a bill is required,
unless received by unanimous consent. Bills are
referred at once to the committee to which by
their subject matters they properly belong. Every
bill must be read three times before its passage;
the first and second readings by title, on intro-
duction; the third reading in full, when put upon
its passage, or by sections, when debated and
amended. No bill can be amended by incorpo-
rating in it the substance of any other pending bill.
Bills or resolutions may be reported at any time
from six committees only: the committee on elec-
tions, on members’ right to seats; ways and means,
on bills to raise revenue; appropriations, on general
appropriation bills; printing, on printing for con-
gress; accounts, on house expenditures; and en-
rolled bills, such bills as are enrolled. Other bills
from committees must take their chance of being
reported back when the committee is called in
its order. Bills reported favorably by commit-
tees must go on the proper house calendar in the
order so reported, and the senate has the same
rule. The enacting clause of all bills must be
uniform, thus: “Be it enacted by the Senate and
House of Representatives of the United States of
America, in Congress assembled.” Formerly every
section of a bill, no matter how numerous, began
with the words, “And be it further enacted”;
but this tedious and useless verbiage was dis-
pensed with in 1871, shortly before the statutes
were codified, and no enacting words are now
used in any section except the first. It is the
right of every member to have a bill read through
at each stage of its progress, though it is cus-
tomarily, by unanimous consent, read only by
title, except upon its passage, when a full read-
ing is mandatory. After a bill has been read
three times, the question is, “Shall the bill pass?”
after which it is not amendable, although open
to debate, unless the house at once Seconds the
demand for the previous question on its pas-
sage. When a bill is passed, the member in
charge of it moves that the vote last taken be
reconsidered, and that the motion to reconsider
be laid on the table. If the house votes aye, no
reconsideration can take place, and the bill goes
at once to the senate. In the Senate the pas-
sage of bills involves no such formalities. All
bills passed by the house must be certified by
the clerk with his signature and the day of their
passage, and conveyed by him or an assistant to
the senate. While bills are on their passage be-
tween the two houses, they are on paper; after
being passed by both houses they must be en-
rolled on parchment, and examined (compared or
collated) by the joint committee on enrolled bills.
Next, they are signed by the president of the sen-
ate and the speaker of the house, and presented
to the president for his signature. Bills signed
by the president are filed in the department of
state, where they form the official acts of con-
gress, from which the annual “Statutes at Large"
are printed. The president notifies his approval
with its date to the house in which the bill
originated, and this appears in the journal.
Any bill not returned by the president within
ten days becomes a law by force of the consti-
tution, unless congress adjourns meanwhile, in
which case it does not become a law. (For bills
failing to become laws through the president's
objections, see Veto.) Bills passed in one house
and rejected in the other must be notified to the
former; they can not be renewed the same ses-
sion without ten days' notice, and leave of two-
thirds. A weekly statement of bills on the speak-
er's table, with dates and proceedings thereon,
must be printed by the clerk. Of each bill of-
fered 750 copies are printed, and many more
are frequently ordered. Bills which are undis-
posed of in either house can be resumed and acted
on at the next session of the same congress; but
all bills die with the congress, unless they have
gone through both houses and been approved
by the president. Private bills are defined to be
those for the benefit of individuals, companies,
etc. Friday in each week is by rule of the
house set apart for their consideration; and when
reported from committees they are considered in
committee of the whole. In parliament there is a
radical distinction between public and private bills,
which does not prevail in congress. By the stand-
ing orders all private bills, whether for the interest
of individuals, corporations or localities, must be
brought in by petition, and taken charge of by a
parliamentary agent. (See LEGISLATION, Vol. ii.,
p. 756.) In the house of lords any peer may offer
a public bill without notice; in the commons
notice must be given and leave of the house ob-
tained. Bills relating to religion, trade or money
grants can not be brought in until they have first
been considered in committee of the whole house.
Bills passed by both houses receive the royal as-
sent by commission under the great Seal. Some-
times the queen assents in person to bills in the
house of lords. In the French chambers bills.
are proposed by the ministry or by deputies, and
are printed and referred to proper committees.
Members proposing them may be heard before
committees. Reports upon bills are printed, after
which the chamber fixes the time for debate. No
bill can become a law without two deliberations
upon it with an interval of at least five days,
76
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
except financial bills, bills of local interest, and
bills declared urgent. — BRIBERY. Any attempt
to bribe a member is a breach of the privileges
of the house. Several cases of lobbyists and
others charged with bribery appear in the jour-
mals. (See LoBBY, vol. ii., p. 781.) Bribery in
the election of members of congress is an offense
which has been made the subject of repeated in-
vestigations by committees of both houses. In
parliament many controverted elections have
turned upon real or alleged bribery; but such
practices have ceased to be subjects of investiga-
tion in parliament since the corrupt practices act
of 1868, confiding the trial of controverted elec-
tions to the court of common pleas. On proof
of bribery by the agents of sitting members (even
without the knowledge of the latter) their seats
have been vacated; while an act of parliament
disqualifies for seven years any candidate guilty
of bribery, and disfranchises him as a voter for
the same period.— BUSINESS. In the lower house
of congress there are four calendars of business:
1, a calendar of the whole house on the state of the
Union, on which are placed all revenue and ap-
propriation bills; 2, a house calendar, embracing
all public bills not revenue or appropriation bills;
3, a calendar of the committee of the whole house,
for all private bills; 4, a calendar of business on
the speaker's table. Questions of the priority
of business are decided by a majority without
debate. The first business, after prayer by the
chaplain, is the reading of the journal of the last
day’s sitting; then a call of states and territories
(if on Monday) for bills and resolutions; and then
a morning hour for reports from committees,
called in order. After the morning hour devoted
to reports, the unfinished business of the preced-
ing session is in order; after unfinished business a
motion to proceed to business on the speaker's
table is in order, though seldom arrived at. After
this, it is in order to go into committee of the
whole house upon revenue or appropriation bills.
Next in order is business on the house calendar.
As it is always in order (after the morning hour)
to go into committee for considering revenue or
appropriation bills, there is small chance for other
measures during most of the session, and thence
comes an almost perpetual contest Over the order
of business. It requires a majority of two-thirds
to suspend the rules apportioning the Order in
which business must be considered; and this ma-
jority is seldom obtained, because the rule forbids
the speaker to entertain any motion to suspend
the rules except on the first and third Mondays of
each month, and during the last six days of a
session. Special orders, however, are sometimes
made in advance for given days, which take pre-
cedence of all except unfinished business and rev-
enue and appropriation bills. The senate has a
morning hour for presentation of messages from
the president, the house, and other communica-
tions, petitions and memorials, reports of commit-
tees, and the introduction of bills and resolutions.
During this hour no other business is in order ex-
cept by unanimous consent. At its close unfin-
ished business of the preceding session is first in
order; second, any special order for the day; and
third, the calendar in its order. This calendar
must contain every bill and resolution reported
from committees or on leave, and house bills and
resolutions unreferred to committees. In parlia-
ment the public business is apportioned by reserv-
ing certain days for considering the orders of the
day, and other days for original motions. The
members are so numerous that the priority of
those desiring to give notices on the same day is
determined by ballot, the speaker drawing their
names from a box; they are called out, when they
rise and make their motions without debate. The
right is reserved to place government orders (i. e.,
the measures of the ministry) at the head of the
list on every order day except Wednesday. Fri- .
day’s order of the day must be either bills of Sup-
ply or ways and means. Wednesdays are set
apart for bills promoted by members not con-
nected with the government, except when the
public business is pressing. Special orders are
frequently made in advance, as in congress. The
IFrench chamber of deputies fixes the order of
business for its next session before adjourning
for the day; the order of the day thus fixed is
posted in the hall, and published in the official
journal. On the demand of any member the
order of the day must have priority. — BY-LAWS.
In non-parliamentary bodies (as in societies or vol-
untary associations of any kind), the by-laws con-
stitute the standing rules of the society. They
usually follow the constitution, and are of great
importance to the orderly transaction of business
in its meetings. They should provide a rule
for the suspension of them at the will of two-
thirds or some other quota of the members. —
CALENDAR. (See Business.) — CALL. Calling the
roll is required at the first meeting of each Session
of congress. This proceeds by states in their al-
phabetical order, and shows by the record in the
journal who are present. The ordinary roll-call
is in alphabetical order of members’ names, and
is required on every vote that is taken by yeas
and nays, the clerk calling out the name, and
members answering vºvá voce. This call, with
the delays arising from indistinctness, absences,
changes and reading of the names on both sides,
occupies some forty minutes in the United States
house of representatives. Various schemes for
abridging the enormous waste of time by the
roll-call (which sometimes occupies half the
hours of a sitting) have been devised: e. g.,
an annunciator with electric wires, the member
touching a button at his desk, and the vote be-
ing recorded yea or may instantaneously for the
whole house. The house, however, has never
countenanced any substitute for ºvá voce voting.
The call of committees and of members from
states for bills and resolutions is treated of under
Business. – CALL OF THE HOUSE. When no
quorum is present, a call of the house is in order,
which proceeds thus: the names of the mem-
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
77
bers are called by the clerk, and the absentees
noted; the doors are then closed, and the major-
ity present orders absentees sent for and arrested
wherever found, by officers appointed by the
Sergeant-at-arms; when absent members are pro-
duced, the speaker calls for their excuses at the
bar, and the house determines upon what condi-
tion they shall be discharged from arrest. Scenes
of great disorder and merriment sometimes occur
during a call of the house. No motion is in order
during the call except to adjourn, or that all further
proceedings in the call be dispensed with: the last
motion is usually made upon the appearance of a
quorum. In the senate a call of senators must be
made when the question of a quorum is raised.
If no quorum is present, the majority may di-
rect the sergeant-at-arms to request or to com-
pel the attendance of absent senators; pending
which, no debate and no motion except to ad-
journ is in order until a quorum appears. — CEN-
SURE. Members of a legislative body are liable
to censure for transgressing the rules in speaking
Or otherwise. A vote to censure a member re-
quires the speaker of the house to pronounce that
such a member (calling him by name) has in-
curred the censure of the house. Votes of censure
have not been infrequent, mainly for unseemly
conduct or transgression of the rules of debate;
and instances are not wanting where, the speaker
has been required to pronounce the censure of the
house upon members who have been guilty of
grave derelictions in their capacity of representa-
tives. In parliament the speaker of the commons
has been sometimes directed to reprimand or ad-
monish persons at the bar who have offended
against the dignity of the house. In the French
chamber of deputies members are subject to cen-
sure of the chamber, who have refused to heed a
call to order, or have been guilty of tumultuous
conduct, or of menacing or insulting any of their
fellow-members. Censure, coupled with exclusion
from the hall for fifteen days, is pronounced
against any deputy who has been guilty of any
violence, or has resisted a simple censure, or has
menaced any member of the government or
the president of the republic. Both censures
carry with them temporary forfeiture of the
salary. In case of resistance by any deputy,
or of tumult in the chamber, the president at
once adjourns the session, and the public pros-
ecutor is informed that an offense has been com-
mitted in the palace of the chamber of depu-
ties. – CHAIRMAN. The chair is usually filled by
the speaker in the house and by the vice-presi-
dent in the senate. The speaker has the right to
call any member to preside if he desires to leave
the chair, and this member is addressed as “Mr.
Chairman "; but such substitution is limited to
the day when made; except that in case of his
illness he may appoint a chairman, with the ap-
proval of the house, for not more than ten days.
In the absence of the speaker without making
Such an appointment, the house elects a speaker
pro tempore, who is addressed as “Mr. Speaker.”
When the house goes into committee of the whole
the speaker never presides, but designates a mem-
ber, who is addressed as “Mr. Chairman.” When
the committee of the whole rises, which is done
by motion, the speaker resumes the chair, and
the chairman formally reports to him what prog-
ress has been made upon the business in hand.
In the Senate the chairman, who is elected to take
the place of the vice-president as presiding officer,
is known as the president pro tempore. Either
Officer may call any senator to occupy the chair,
but only for the day or a less time at his pleasure.
This substitute is still addressed as “Mr. Presi-
dent.” The chairman of a committee is the first-
named member thereon, by a rule of both houses.
In his absence the next-named member acts as
chairman. The great amount and importance of
business prepared for legislative action by the
committees renders the chairmanship an influ-
ential and much desired position. — CHILTERN
HUNDREDs. (See PARLIAMENT, THE BRITISH.)—
CLERK. At the beginning of each congress the
house is called to order by the clerk of the last
house, who continues in office until his successor
is chosen. He then calls the roll of members,
and decides all questions of order until the elec-
tion of a speaker, subject to appeal to the house
by any member. His successor is elected imme-
diately after the choice of a speaker, by vivá voce
vote. The clerk must note all questions of order
and decisions thereon; keep the journal of the
house and print it, with an index; certify to the
passage of all bills and resolutions; attest, by sig-
nature and Seal of the house, writs, warrants and
subpoenas; make all contracts regarding supplies
or labor for the house ; disburse and account
for the contingent fund ; appoint and pay the
assistants in his office ; keep the stationery ac-
counts; and have charge of certain classes of doc-
uments for distribution. He has the custody of
all bills, petitions and other papers pertaining to
business before all committees of the house at the
close of each congress, to be preserved in the files
of his office. He must make a roll of representa-
tives elect before the first meeting of each con-
gress, placing on it only those whose credentials
show them regularly elected. All messages from
the house to the senate are conveyed by the clerk
or one of his assistants. – CLóTURE. This term,
recently adopted from the French, denotes the
closing of debate, answering closely to the previ-
ous question, as it prevails in American assem-
blies. In parliament the previous question does
not have the effect to suppress all further discus-
sion of the main question. The want of any
standing order enabling the majority of the
house to close debate and secure the prompt
passage of the ministerial measures, led to the
protracted parliamentary contest of 1881–2, and
the adoption of new rules for procedure in the
house of commons. As introduced by Mr. Glad-
stone, Feb. 20, 1882, the procedure resolutions,
required the closing of debate by a bare major-
ity approving the putting of the question by the
"78
TARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
speaker; but the question under discussion was
not to be decided in the affirmative unless sup-
ported by 200 members or opposed by less than
40, This radical measure was the fruit of the
obstructive tactics adopted by the Irish mem-
bers in the long session, Jan. 6 to Aug. 7, 1881.
Taking advantage of the rules of the house, de-
signed to promote freedom of debate, about forty
members successfully thwarted the majority, and
for many months prevented legislation giving the
government power to enforce the laws in Ireland.
Several all-night sessions of the house, and one
continuous sitting of forty-one and one-half hours,
with scenes of great disorder, were the fruits
of these obstructive tactics on the part of the
home rule members. A series of motions to
adjourn the debate, to adjourn the house, etc.,
were continually renewed in the endeavor to weary
out the majority and delay the obnoxious Irish
bill by adjournment of the house; but the majority,
backed by the conservative party, who made com-
mon cause with the ministerialists, kept the house
together by relays, and the debate went on day
and night. At length the speaker took the decisive
measure of arresting debate by putting the motion
for leave to bring in the bill to suppress disorders
in Ireland. This was carried, the Irish members
leaving the house in a body. The bill reaching a
second reading, the obstructions were renewed,
and Mr. Parnell and other members were “named”
by the speaker for disregarding the authority of
the chair. Resistance to the progress of business
continuing, a motion for the expulsion for the day
of thirty-one of the home rule party was carried;
and, after four nights’ debate, the first “urgency”
resolution of Mr. Gladstone was carried, 359 to
56. This secured parliamentary progress, and the
Irish bill was passed through both houses within
a week, and received the royal assent March 2,
1881. At the next session of parliament (1882)
the adoption of the cláture as a permanent stand-
ing order was carried after months of struggle and
debate. An amendment that in no case should
the cláture be enforced unless with the support of
two-thirds of those present, was lost. The pro-
ºcedure resolutions were finally passed Dec. 1,
1882, and are to the following effect: 1, provides
that the speaker or chairman may stop the debate
at his discretion, if supported by more than 200
members; or if opposed by less than 40, and sup-
ported by more than 100; 2, provides that motions
for adjournment for the discussion of a definite
matter of urgent public importance, shall be en-
tertained if forty members support it by rising
up; 3, provides for limiting such debate to the
subject in hand; 4, provides for the taking of
divisions; 5, 6 and 7, are technical rules for the
speaker's or chairman's guidance; 8, makes it a
standing order that no opposed motion shall be
taken after half-past twelve at night; 9, regulates
the suspension of offending members; 10, gives
the speaker or chairman the power to check
attempts to secure delay by abuse of the rules; 11
and 12, are minor provisions; and 13 makes the
first seven and last three resolutions into standing
orders. In the French chamber of deputies, by
Art. 108 of the Règlement, the president is to take
the sense of the chamber before pronouncing the
closing of debate. If the cláture is opposed, only
a single speech against it is allowed. The cláture
being Once pronounced, no further debate is in
order, with the single exception of remarks upon
the state of the question. — COMMITTEES. A com-
mittee is an officially constituted organ of a
deliberative body to facilitate its business by
examining questions, canvassing their merits by
discussion, testimony, etc., digesting resolutions,
or preparing bills for action, and reporting their
conclusions to the body of which they are mem-
bers. In societies, conventions and deliberative
assemblies, it is the almost invariable practice that
the presiding officer appoints all committees. The
mover of any special committee is usually by
courtesy appointed its chairman, although the
Selection both of committees and of chairmen is
always within the power of the assembly. Com-
mittees are most important organs of a body to
forward its business by intelligent and orderly
procedure. In the house of representatives the
speaker has the sole power of appointing com-
mittees. There are three kinds of committees in
congress, viz., standing, select and joint, besides
committees of conference, which are appointed
for the occasion, to reconcile differences between
the houses upon matters of legislation. The
standing committees of the house are forty-seven
in number, appointed at the commencement of
each congress. Three of these are joint commit-
tees, the Senate having a similar committee to act
with them. They consist of from fifteen members
each down to three, the greater number having
eleven members. Select committees, ordered by
the house from time to time to consider special
subjects, consist of various numbers and do not
hold over the session, unless specially authorized,
while the standing committees are for the whole
congress. In 1802 the house had only five stand-
ing committees of seven members each. The call
of committees for reports is daily, except on the
first and third Mondays of each month. All
reports of committees must be in writing. They
can sit during sessions of the house only by special
leave. Committee rooms are provided in the
capitol for their sessions, which are private unless
they choose to admit spectators. Jefferson's
Manual holds that the proceedings of a committee
are not to be published, as they are of no force
until confirmed by the house ; but in modern
days the enterprise of the press is adequate to
spread before the public all that is of interest in
the proceedings of every congressional committee.
A committee is sometimes given the special power
to send for persons and papers; also to hold
sessions in any part of the country where investi-
gation is desired. A majority of the committee
constitutes a quorum for business. Each com-
mittee has a clerk, appointed by the chairman
with the committee's approval, and a calendar of
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
79
business. Any chairman of a committee has power
by statute to administer oaths to witnesses. It is
common to parcel out committee work involving
examination among the individual members, or to
refer various topics to sub-committees for report.
Some committees meet daily, others weekly, others
casually upon call of the chairman, according to
the amount or importance of the business referred
to them. The right of a committee to report at
any time carries with it the right to consider the
matter when reported ; but all measures involv-
ing the raising or expending of money must
be first considered in committee of the whole.
The only exceptions to this rule are the com-
mittees on elections, printing, and accounts. A
committee report may be made by the chair-
man or any one of its members; and he has the
right both to open and close debate on the report.
Minority reports in writing are usually printed and
considered with the majority report. Questions
of jurisdiction over certain business often arise
between various committees, and are decided by
the speaker or the house: the principle governing
is, that the principal subject of the bill should
control its reference. In the senate the standing
committees (thirty-four in number) are appointed
by ballot unless otherwise ordered. For many
years past the ballot has been dispensed with, and
the committees are elected each session (not for
the whole congress, as in the house) on motion,
the members being named in a body by the par.
ty in the majority, which has previously agreed
to them in caucus. Special committees are fre-
quently appointed by the president of the senate,
who also appoints committees of conference.
Reports from committees are to be called for dur-
ing the morning hour next after the communica-
tions to the senate and the offering of petitions and
memorials. In parliament there are no standing
committees except on accounts, standing orders,
selection, and railway and canal bills, and these
must be reappointed every session. Select com-
mittees are appointed in the lords by ballot or
On motion. In the commons select committees
(usually of fifteen members) are appointed vivá
Ooce on motion of any member naming them, al-
though the house sometimes elects committees by
ballot. The house orders in each case what num-
ber shall be a quorum of the committee, usually
five members in the commons and three in the
lords. The object of select committees is usually
to take evidence, and power is given them to send
for persons and papers. The presence of stran-
gers is usually permitted in house committees,
rarely in those of the lords. Their exclusion may
be ordered at any time, and is enforced while the
committee are deliberating. Secret committees
are sometimes appointed, whose inquiries are con-
ducted with closed doors, even members of the
house being excluded. All evidence is taken in
shorthand, and printed. Reports and resolutions
reported by committees, by a standing order are
laid upon the table. By a new usage, first in
operation in 1883, “grand committees” have been
created, selected for the purpose of giving meas-
ures mature consideration before they are pre-
sented to parliament for debate. This object has
thus far been well answered, and the working
power of the parliament increased. In the French
chamber of deputies the most important commit-
tee is that on the budget. This consists of thirty-
three members, and is charged with all legislation
relating to receipts and expenditures. The cham-
ber may refer to any committee any other prop-
ositions for legislation. No member can belong
to more than two committees. One day in each
week is customarily set apart for committee
work. — COMMITTEE OF THE WHOLE. A com-
mittee of the whole is constituted of all the indi-
vidual members of the body, and must beformed
by an act of the house itself. In the senate there
is no formal resolving into committee of the
whole of the body, but simply a resolution that
the business then pending shall be considered “as
in committee of the whole.” This is styled by Mr.
Jefferson a quasi committee. The house having
resolved to go into committee of the whole, the
speaker must leave the chair, after appointing
a chairman to preside. Business is taken up in
the order of the calendar, appropriation and rev-
enue bills having precedence. The committee
must rise and the speaker resume the chair if a
message to the house comes in, or a bill is ob-
jected to, or any other business occasion arises
requiring the immediate attention of the house;
after which the house goes again into commit-
tee. The rules provide that all matters relating
to taxes or appropriations of money shall first
be considered in a committee of the whole.
The five-minute rule prevails in committee of
the whole; i. e., any member is allowed five
minutes to explain any amendment he may offer;
after which one member is allowed to speak five
minutes in opposing it, and there must be no
further debate thereon. This is practically extend-
ed, however, by permitting an amendment to an
amendment, so that many five-minute speeches
may be made by pro form& motions to amend by
striking out the last word, etc. When debate
runs too long, in the view of those having charge
of the measure, the motion is often made that the
committee rise; when the house is asked to close
all debate upon the pending section; if carried,
this cuts off all debate, but does not preclude fur-
ther amendment. The previous question can not
be put in committee, nor motions to reconsider,
nor can the yeas and nays be taken, nor can
motions, amendments or appeals be laid on the
table. The members vote by three methods:
1, vivá voce by the sound, aye or no; 2, by
rising, and standing till they are counted on
each side; 3, by passing between the tellers.
When the matter under consideration in com-
mittee is finished, the committee rise, and the
chairman reports to the speaker, “The committee
of the whole house on the state of the Union hav-
ing had under consideration (such a subject) have
directed me to report the same with (or without)
80
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
amendments.” In parliament the chair is taken
in committee of the whole by the chairman of the
committee of ways and means in the commons,
and by the chairman of committees appointed
each session in the lords. The ordinary function
of committees of the whole house is deliberation.
Every public bill and all matters concerning re-
ligion, trade, revenue or the grant of public money
must first be considered in committee of the
whole. Members may speak more than once in
committee, but not in the house. — CONCURRENT
RESOLUTION. This is a resolution adopted by
both houses, chiefly on the subject of adjourn-
ment of the session. Unlike a joint resolution, it
does not require the signature of the president. —
CoNEERENCE. To adjust differences in the form
or substance of a measure which has passed both
houses, though in a different shape, committees of
conference are appointed by the presiding officer.
They consist usually of three members from each
house, two of whom are of the majority party, or
favorable to the measure. In all cases of disagree-
ment, or when either house refuses to concur with
amendments to any measure made by the other, a
conference is moved. Reports of committees of
conference must be signed by a majority of the
committee of both houses, and are always in or-
der. They must contain an explicit statement as
to what effect the committee's report will have on
the measure. If the conferees fail to agree (as
often happens) they report to their respective
houses, and a new committee (or the same) is
again appointed. Three or four conferences, with
as many committees, are sometimes required.
The usual form of moving a conference is that
the house (or senate) insist on its disagreement
and ask for a conference: the alternative motion
is, that the house recede from its amendments, or
from its disagreement, and agree to the amend-
ments of the other body. The senate has a rule
that the question of consideration of conference
reports shall be taken at once without debate. In
parliament conference committees are more form-
al, and may be demanded by either house con-
cerning the privileges of parliament, the course
of proceeding and the bills or amendments passed
by the other house. Each house appoints mana-
gers to represent it at the conference, and both
houses are thus brought into direct intercourse
with each other by deputations of their own mem-
bers. Business is suspended in both houses of
parliament during the sitting of conference com-
mittees. In the French corps legislatºf, when
the Senate disagrees with the chamber of depu-
ties, a committee of conference may be moved
to agree upon a new form of law. If the con-
ference report is rejected by the deputies, it is
not in order to bring in a similar bill until two
months have expired, except upon the initiative
of the government. — CONSENT. In the ordi-
nary course of business at public meetings, and
in some parliamentary bodies, business may be
done by unanimous consent. The presiding offi-
cer puts the question: Is it the pleasure of the
assembly that such a thing should be done? If
no member dissents, he announces, “The chair
hears no objection,” and the thing is ordered
without putting the question in any other form.
If a single member objects, the chairman must
put the question in the usual way by a motion
and second. The introduction of any bill or res-
olution out of the regular order requires unani-
mous consent. It is customary for members to ask
unanimous consent to withdraw papers from the
files, to be excused from the house or from voting,
to print remarks not actually delivered, to have
a bill or motion taken up for present considera-
tion, to have their time extended when speak-
ing, etc. If no objection is made, the chair an-
nounces that the request is granted. — ConsLD-
ERATION. To raise the question of consideration
is to endeavor to defeat a measure by bringing the
house to vote whether they will consider it. It is
too late to raise the question of consideration on
any question after its discussion is actually begun.
— CONSTITUTION. In most societies or perma-
ment voluntary organizations it is customary to
adopt a constitution and by-laws for the govern-
ment of the body. The constitution commonly
sets forth the name and object of the organiza-
tion, the qualifications and mode of electing mem-
bers and officers, and the regulations for meet-
ings. It also contains provision for its amend-
ment through a vote of two-thirds or some other
majority, after specified previous notice at a reg-
ular meeting. — CONTEMPT. (See Privilege.)—
CoNTESTED SEAT. (See Elections.)— ConvKN-
TION, Joint. A joint convention of the two
houses is held only upon occasion of counting the
electoral vote for president and vice-president.
Formerly this assembly was regulated by a joint
rule of the two houses, providing that the presi-
dent of the senate should be their presiding of-
ficer, and prescribing details for counting the
vote. This rule, however, was abolished in 1876,
and there is now no rule upon the subject. —
DAY, LEGISLATIVE. For the purposes of legisla-
tion the congressional day begins at 12 o'clock M.,
or at such earlier hour as either house shall have
adjourned to. It does not terminate until an ad-
journment is had ; a recess merely to the next
day does not end the legislative day then running.
An adjournment does not necessarily take place
at the beginning of Sunday; a majority may con-
tinue in session after that hour (as has frequently
happened), but the journal bears the date of the
day preceding (Saturday). — DEADLOCK. This is
a common phrase, which designates a stoppage
of business in one house through obstructions by
the minority; or, a deadlock in legislation may
occur between the two houses, through party
differences, when the majority in one is of dif-
ferent politics from that controlling the other.
The latter are usually compromised by each house
yielding something; the former sometimes lasts for
days and nights, the party seeking to prevent the
enactment of an obnoxious measure exhausting
every parliamentary expedient by calls of the
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
81.
house, motions to adjourn, calling the yeas and
nays, etc., on their motions, to defeat or weary out
the majority. — DEBATE. In all assemblies for
the transaction of business it is essential that there
should be rules to regulate and limit discussion.
There are some rules which may be regarded as
universal; as, 1, No debate is in order unless a
motion of some kind is before the assembly; 2,
Any one rising to debate must address the presiding
officer, not the assembly; 3, By courtesy, the mover
of any proposition is first entitled to the floor; 4,
Debate must be confined to the question before
the assembly. In the house of representatives a
member rising must address “Mr. Speaker”; the
speaker names the member who is first to speak (as
“the gentleman from Maine,” etc.). When sev-
eral rise at once the member who first catches the
speaker's eye is to be called upon. A member re-
porting a measure from a committee opens and
closes the debate; no member can speak more
than one hour without express leave of the house,
or more than once to the same question unless he
be the mover of the matter pending, when he may
speak in reply after all others choosing to do so
have spoken. No debate is allowed after the pre-
vious question is ordered, except one speech from
the member closing debate; it is common, how.
ever, for the member having an hour to close to
yield a given amount of his time to several mem-
bers. In both houses no debate is allowed on
motions for adjournment or recess, or to lay
any business upon the table, or to consider con-
ference reports, to excuse from voting, or on ques-
tions of order arising after a motion for the pre-
vious question, or upon reference or priority
of business. No member may call another by
name in debate, or notice the views of the other
house ; both of these rules, however, are fre-
quently violated. In the senate debate is without
limit, unless a special order is made to curtail the
length of speeches. No senator can interrupt
another without his consent, or speak more than
twice on the same question the same day without
leave of the Senate. Both houses have a rule that
any member transgressing in debate the rules of
the house, shall be called to Order, when he must
sit down, and can not proceed without leave, the
exceptionable words being taken down. Senators
must stand in their places when debating; but
members of the house may speak from their seats,
or from any part of the floor, or from the clerk’s
desk. In the house of lords a peer addresses the
lords in general; in the commons the speaker is
addressed. The reading of written speeches is
not permitted in either house of parliament. A
member may read extracts from documents, but
must debate questions in the literal sense of that
word, without reading manuscript remarks. In
both houses of congress written speeches are prac-
tically rather the rule, and debate in the true sense
the exception. While debating, members of the
lords and commons remove their hats, resuming
them upon concluding. Debate in the lords de-
pends upon the will of the house; in the commons
125 VOL. III. — 6
the speaker recognizes the member who rises first.
As several members may frequently rise at once,
the one that is first in his eye is called upon.
Competition for the floor sometimes leads to a
motion that another than the member called by
the speaker be first heard. It has been sometimes
charged that there was a “speaker's list,” by
which his recognition of members was governed,
but this has never been admitted. The rule of
one speech only from any member on the same
question is strictly observed. No member can be
called by name in either house; in the lords a mem-
ber is referred to by his rank, as “the noble
earl”; in the commons, by the place he represents,
as “the honorable gentleman, the member for
York.” In the French chambers members speak
from the tribune, and must first have obtained
leave by addressing the president. A list of the
deputies who desire to speak at any session is kept,
in the order of their demand. In the discussions
members speak alternately for and against a meas-
ure under consideration; a rule which does not pre-
vail either in England or America. The ministers
are to have the floor whenever they claim it, even
if it interrupts the order of the regular list, but one
of the opposition may always follow the speech
of a minister, Disorder or clamor during a dis-
cussion is prohibited ; if the chamber becomes
noisy, and the president can not restore order, he
puts on his hat; if the disorder continues he an-
nounces the session closed for an hour, at the end
of which time the sitting is resumed; if the tu-
mult breaks out again the president must adjourn
the chamber to the next day. — DELEGATES. (See
Territories.) — DIVISION. To call for a division is
to test the sense of the assembly on the proposition
before it. In the house a division is had by the
members on each side of the question rising in
their seats and being counted by the speaker, who
announces the vote. If dissatisfied with the result,
any member may call for tellers, or the yeas and
nays may be called for. The division of a ques-
tion, if demanded by any member, must be made
before voting, if it include two or more distinct
propositions. In parliament, if the vote by ayes
and noes (vivá voce) is not accepted, there is no di-
vision by rising and standing to be counted, but
the house at once divides, those voting for the
measure withdrawing to the lobby on the right of
the house, and those opposed entering the left.
Two tellers are appointed by the speaker for each
party. As members file back into the house they
are counted by the tellers, and their names re-
corded by the clerks. The result is announced
from the chair, and alphabetical lists of the names
are printed with the “votes and proceedings.”
No member can vote who was not in the house
when the question was put; but a “ division bell”
is rung by the doorkeeper when the house is about
to divide, which is heard through the neighboring
rooms, and scattered members hasten to be present
at the division before the doors are locked. The
time allowed for this notice is two minutes, meas-
ured by a sand-glass; and when that has run out,
82
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
the doors are closed, and the speaker must again
put the question by ayes and noes, as by the rule
no absentees on the first call could vote unless the
question were again put. If the numbers on a
division are equal, the Speaker must give the
casting vote in the commons; if there is a tie in
the house of lords, the measure voted upon is lost.
In the French chambers a division must be had on
the call of any member. The vote is taken, 1,
by rising ; 2, by open ballot; 3, by secret ballot.
The first method is in order upon all questions
unless twenty members demand an open ballot or
fifty a secret ballot; or when the rising vote,
having been twice taken, is not decisive of the
question; in this case any member may demand
the ballot. The open ballot requires each member
to be supplied with white tickets signifying a vote
in the affirmative, and blue tickets the negative, on
all of which his name is printed. Messengers
present to each member an urn, in which he
deposits his ballot: all the votes being collected,
the urns are opened at the tribune; the secre-
taries count the ballots of each color, and the
president announces the result. The secret ballot
is taken by white and black balls, the white
signifying the affirmative, and the black the nega-
tive. The members deposit the balls themselves
in an urn ; the Secretaries turn them out into a
basket, count the black and white balls, and the
result is proclaimed. — DOORKEEPER. In some
assemblies the Sergeant-at-arms or his assistants
discharge all the duties of a doorkeeper. In the
house of representatives the office of doorkeeper
is an important one, involving the care and re-
sponsibility of the chamber and apartments of the
house and the public property therein, the superin-
tendence of the document room and folding room
of the house, and the appointment of many messen-
gers, assistant doorkeepers and pages. During
the sessions he announces at the door of the house
all messages, furnishes members with printed doc-
uments, conveys messages, etc. He must enforce
strictly the rules as to the privileges of the hall,
and be responsible to the house for the conduct of
his employés. In the senate the sergeant-at-arms
appoints the doorkeeper and his assistants. –
ELECTIONS. In public assemblies the first busi-
ness in order is always the election of officers. At
any meeting which is not that of an organized
body, it is usual for the assembly to be called to
order by some volunteer member, who moves
that Mr. — act as chairman of the meeting.
The motion being seconded, the proposer calls
for a vote by ayes and noes. If the voice of the
former preponderates, he declares the motion
carried, and calls Mr. — to the chair. The
chairman, having taken his seat, announces the
first business to be the election of a secretary, and
calls for nominations, putting the question in the
Same manner for an expression of the sense of the
meeting. Other officers may be elected in like
manner, but a president and secretary are all
which are usually necessary for a meeting. In
the house of representatives the speaker, clerk,
Sergeant-at-arms, doorkeeper, postmaster and chap-
lain are elected by vivá voce vote at the beginning
of each congress. The election of members in-
volves questions of the highest privilege, the con-
stitution itself making each house the judge of
the elections, returns and qualifications of its own
members. The committee on elections in the
house, and on privileges and elections in the
senate, stand at the head of the list of committees.
Contested elections of members, of which there
are usually several in each congress, are carefully
examined by these committees. The law provides
that any contestant of an election of any repre-
sentative must, within thirty days after the re-
sult is declared, notify the member whose seat he
contests, of his intention and grounds of contest.
The member must within thirty days answer the
contestant in writing. Ninety days after this are
allowed both sides for taking testimony. Wit-
nesses may be examined or depositions taken at
any place with due notice on both sides, the mem-
ber and contestant appearing, either in person or
by attorney, before any judge of a United States
court, a state court of record, or a notary public,
etc., who are by law competent to issue subpoenas
and take record evidence in election cases. The
testimony is taken in writing, and transmitted to
the clerk of the house, by whose order it is usually
printed. Contestants have the privilege of the floor
pending a decision of their claim, and are usually
heard in their own behalf before the vote is taken.
Questions of the right of a member to his seat
take precedence of all business. Large sums have
frequently been voted to sitting members and to
those contesting their seats for expenses incurred
in the contest. The Revised Statutes (sec. 130)
prohibit such payments to any person, but a sub-
sequent statute of 1879 provides that thereafter
no contestant or contestee for a seat in the house
shall be paid more than $2,000 for such expenses,
and that only upon sworn vouchers or receipts
for money actually disbursed. The election of
senators in each state must be made by the legis-
lature chosen next preceding the expiration of
the term of a senator. On the second Tuesday
after organizing, each house must vote separately
and vivá voce for a senator. If any one has a
majority in both houses he shall next day be de-
clared duly elected senator in joint assembly of
both houses. If no one has a majority the joint
assembly must vote for Senator (each member
having one vote), and if no candidate receives a
majority on the first day, the assembly must meet
at 12 M. each succeeding day of the Session, and
take at least one vote, until a Senator is elected.
In parliament the practice in contested elections
prevailing in this country was formerly in vogue,
but the trial and determination of contests for
seats by the whole house of commons grew into
a great abuse through the notorious partisanism
which almost invariably decided the case. This
was reformed by the Grenville act of 1770, which
selected by lot all committees for the trial of elec-
tion petitions. This non-partisan method of Se-
*
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
lecting judges of parliamentary elections was
maintained until 1868, when the jurisdiction of
the house of Commons in the trial Of controverted
elections was transferred by statute to the courts
of law. Complaints of fraud in an election, or
wrong returns of members, are tried by a judge
within the district concerned, who certifies his de-
termination to the speaker, which is final. If he
reports that corrupt practices have prevailed at
the election, a commission is sometimes appointed
thereon. Corrupt constituencies have been re-
peatedly disfranchised by act of parliament. In
France the chamber elects at each new organiza-
tion a provisional president, and two vice-presi-
dents, by ballot. The chamber is then divided
by lot into eleven bureaus, who proceed to exam-
ine the election returns of all the members, by
committees of five members chosen by lot. Re-
port is then made to the chamber, which pro-
nounces on the validity of the elections, and the
president proclaims the list of regularly chosen
deputies. By the French constitution each house
is the sole judge of the eligibility and returns of
its members. After the powers of a quorum or
upward of the chamber have been verified, per-
manent officers are elected by ticket, viz., a presi-
dent, four vice-presidents, eight Secretaries and
three questors (who have charge of the parliamen-
tary expenditure), to serve during the entire ses-
ision. – ENGROSSED BILLS. An engrossed bill is
a clean copy of the bill, with its amendments,
put in proper form for the action of the house.
When a bill has passed through all its stages, and
the question is about to be taken on the third
reading and passage, any member may call for
the reading of the engrossed bill, and this may
defeat the bill at that stage unless the motion to
suspend the rules and pass the bill can be carried.
An enrolled bill is a bill which has passed both
houses and been enrolled on parchment, the en-
grossed bill being on paper. — Excuse. All mem-
bers must vote unless excused, and the motion
for excuse must be put before roll-call and decided
without debate. The excuses of absent members
brought in under a call of the house may be ac-
cepted or held inadequate, at the pleasure of the
house. — ExPULSION. A member may be expelled
by a vote of two-thirds in either house of congress.
This is a constitutional provision, and has been
several times exercised. More frequently resolu-
tions to expel members guilty of grave miscon-
duct have been lost, owing to lack of a two-thirds
majority, or forestalled by the resignation of the
offending member. The latter occurred in the
case of Matteson and others whom the house was
about to expel for corruption in railway land
grants in 1853. (See LOBBY, vol. ii., p. 781.)
In the case of B. F. Whittemore, a member from
South Carolina, found guilty, on report of a com-
mittee of the house in 1870, of selling an appoint-
ment to a West Point cadetship, resolutions of
expulsion were introduced, but the member re-
signed his seat an hour or two before the vote
upon them was to be taken, and the resolutions
83
were laid on the table. Whittemore returned to
his constituents and was re-elected to the house.
Thereupon a resolution was passed declining to
allow Whittemore to be sworn in as a member,
and returning to him his credentials. In the
house of commons the power of expelling a mem-
ber for grave offenses is undoubted. But though
this vacates the seat of a member, it does not cre-
ate disability to serve again in parliament. The
famous case of John Wilkes, who was repeatedly
expelled from the commons for libel, and was
three times re-elected, the house each time stand-
ing on its prerogative and declaring the election
void, was a disfranchisement which was palpably
illegal; and the house itself, in 1782, reversed its
action in the Wilkes case, ordering it expunged
from the journals as “subversive of the rights of
the whole body of electors of this kingdom.”
Many expulsions from parliament have occurred
for corruption, perjury, conspiracy, fraud, libel,
forgery, etc., the last instance having been that of
James Sadleir for fraud in 1857. In the French
chambers the penalties which are affixed to de-
linquencies do not go the length of expulsion,
but only of censure, with temporary suspension
from legislative functions. – ExPUNGING. On
various occasions the action of a former leg-
islative body has been rescinded by the pass-
age of a resolution to expunge from the jour-
nals a previously adopted order or resolution.
The most noted instance of this kind in congress
was the passage by the senate, in 1837, of a reso-
lution to expunge from the journal a resolution
adopted by the senate in 1834, censuring Presi-
dent Jackson as having assumed power not con-
ferred by the constitution and laws. In parlia-
ment entries in the journal have occasionally
been ordered to be expunged, the most notable
case being that affirming the incapacity of John
Wilkes as a member, passed in 1769, and erased
in 1782 in the manuscript journal of 1769. The
printed journal, however, (though reprinted
since), still contains the obnoxious resolution. —
FILEs. The clerk of the house and the secretary
of the senate have responsible charge of all files of
papers, public and private, which accumulate in
the course of the business of the respective
houses. No memorial or other paper presented
to either house can be withdrawn from the files
without its leave, except for reference to a com-
mittee. — FILIBUSTERING. This term has long
been applied in America to the obstructive tactics
and dilatory motions adopted by a minority to
defer action upon a measure obnoxious to them.
In the house this is done chiefly by the minority
insisting upon the constitutional right to take the
yeas and nays on every motion; then, by oft-re-
peated motions to adjourn, to adjourn to a fixed
day, to reconsider, to lay on the table, etc., and
by relays of members to raise points of order,
parliamentary inquiries, etc., hours and Some-
times days are consumed in the hope of wearying
out the majority, or compelling them to compro-
mise. In the senate, where there are few or no
84
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
checks upon debate, a mild form of filibustering
is employed by a well-organized minority taking
the floor in succession, and each speaking as long
as possible. Measures have been thus defeated
by consuming the whole time of a closing session.
—FLOOR. To obtain the floor is to be recog-
nized by the presiding officer as having the right
to make a motion or a speech. (See Debate.)—
HOUR RULE.
by a standing rule first adopted in 1847, no mem-
ber can occupy more than one hour in debate on
any question except the member reporting a meas-
ure from a committee, who has an additional
hour to close the debate, if it extends beyond one
day. No similar rule prevails in the senate or in
the British parliament. — IMPEACHMENT. This
is a parliamentary power as old as the fourteenth
century, and frequently exercised in early his-
tory, involving the highest judicial powers. Im-
peachment by the commons of high crimes be-
yond the reach of the law, and a trial by the
house of lords, were invoked to defend the rights
of Englishmen against corruption and oppression
in office, whether executive or judicial. In mod-
ern times impeachment has been very rare. The
direct responsibility of the highest officers to par-
liament, the limitations of prerogative, the settled
administration of the law, and, more than all, the
power of public opinion, have restrained those
crimes which impeachments were devised to pun-
ish. Nevertheless, all persons, whether peers or
commoners, may be impeached for high misde-
meanors. The last trial of an impeachment in
Great Britain, and the only one in the present
century, was that of Lord Melvil in 1805. (See,
for impeachments in U. S. History, vol. ii., p. 480.)
— IMPRISONMENT. (See Privilege.) — INSTRUC-
TIONs. (See INSTRUCTIONs, vol. ii., p. 527.)—
JoſNT COMMITTEES. (See Committees.)— JoſNT
CoNVENTION. (See Convention.)—JornT RESOLU-
TION. A joint resolution, like a public act or stat-
ute, is one which is passed by both houses and
signed by the president. (See Resolution.)—JoſNT
RULE. This is a rule adopted by both houses for
the conduct of business between them. A series
of fifteen joint rules was adopted as far back as
1790–94, and was in force (with occasional slight
additions) until the 44th congress. The most im-
portant of these was the 22d joint rule, provid-
ing for the counting of the votes for president
and vice-president in joint convention of the
two houses. Jan. 20, 1876, the senate passed
and sent to the house a concurrent resolu-
tion declaring that these joint rules previously
in force, except the 22d, be adopted as the
joint rules of the two houses for that session.
The house took no action thereon, but, on
Aug. 14, 1876, asked the Senate to concur in
a resolve suspending for the remainder of the
session the 16th and 17th joint rules (forbid-
ding the sending of bills from one house to the
other in the last three days of the session,
and presenting bills to the president on the
last day of the session). The Senate, in reply,
In the house of representatives,
passed a resolution, notifying the house that, as
the house had not notified the Senate of the
adoption of the joint rules as proposed by the
Senate, there are no joint rules in force. — Jour-
NAL. The constitution provides that each house
shall keep and publish a journal of its proceed-
ings. This is done by the clerk, through one of
his assistants, known as the journal clerk, and
each day's journal must be read on the meeting
of the house on the succeeding legislative day.
It records with great fullness the motions, votes,
petitions, messages—in short, all proceedings in
the house, except the debates. In reading the
journal the record of petitions, names of members
voting, resolutions and messages, are omitted by
unanimous consent; even without these the jour-
nal often runs to great length. Errors in the jour-
nal may be corrected the next day. — LEGISLA-
TIVE DAY. This begins at 12 M. in congress,
unless a different or earlier hour is fixed by either
house for its meetings. It terminates with the
adjournment, (a mere recess does not end it), but
does not always coincide with the day as marked
by the calendar. Thus, the legislative day which
terminates the session of congress every other
year is styled March 3 in the journals and pro-
ceedings, although it is actually March 4, from the
hour of midnight to noon of this closing day. —
LOBBY and LOBBYING. (See LOBBY, vol. ii., p.
770.)—LOG-ROLLING. This is a cant phrase, ap-
plied to a combination of members to aid each
other's measures. The term comes from the busi-
ness of securing lumber, or logging, where the log-
gers unite to help each other in the hard work of
rolling the immense logs from the forest, where
they are cut, to the water. Thus, one member of
the legislative body says to others, “Vote for my
bill, and I will vote for your bill,” and this is called
log-rolling. — MACE. This is the traditional sym-
bol of parliamentary power, as old as the sixteenth
century. It is a large block of wood carved and
gilt, and is borne before the speaker in the
house of commons, when he enters or leaves
the house, on the shoulder of the sergeant-at-
arms. When he is in the chair, it is laid upon
the table. (In the house of representatives the
mace is set upright at the table of the Sergeant-
at-arms, at the speaker’s right.) The mace now
used in the house of commons is the identical
one handed down from the accession of Charles
II., 1660. There is no mace in the house of lords
or in the senate. It is the time-honored emblem
of popular sovereignty, in a legislative sense.
The mace now used in the house dates from 1842
(although first introduced in 1789), and represents
the Roman fasces, made of ebony sticks with sil-
ver bands, and small spears, terminating in a
globe of silver, upon which is an eagle with half
extended wings: the whole is about three feet in
height. When the house is in committee of the
whole the mace is removed. — MAJORITY. The
majority which carries any measure is held to
be half the whole number of members of any
assembly, plus one. Some constitutions require,
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
85
to render an act valid, that it shall have been
passed by a majority of those elected; but in
both branches of congress a majority of the
members present (if a quorum of the whole
house) may pass any measure which is in order
under the rules. It results that a law may be
made by less than one-third of the senators and
representatives elected. In fact, twenty senators
and eighty-two representatives may, under the
rules, pass the most important piece of legislation.
The rule that a majority must be had to elect a
speaker was suspended in the case of the obstinate
struggle of 1855–6, when the house remained un-
organized for many weeks, the division of parties
being such that no one of three candidates could
secure a majority. Finally, the deadlock was
ended by the house adopting a resolution that a
plurality of votes should elect, and Mr. Banks
was chosen speaker. The rule that a majority is
required to elect a senator in state legislatures is
prescribed by the laws of the United States. In
nearly all the states, however, the majority rule
which formerly prevailed in the election of repre-
Sentatives in congress, and of state officers, has
been supplanted by enactments that a plurality of
votes shall elect. — MEMBERS. Those are recog-
nized as members of a parliamentary body whose
credentials are regular, or who by unanimous con-
sent are admitted as members without examina-
tion of credentials. Each house of congress is the
sole judge of the elections, returns and qualifica-
tions of its own members. The house consists of
325 members, since March 4, 1883. Members are
to be elected on the Tuesday after the first Monday
in November of every second year (the even years,
1884, 1886, etc.), except in any state where the con-
stitution would have to be changed to alter its
election day. In case of a vacancy in a mem-
ber's seat, the governor of the state issues a writ
of election to fill it.
roll at the first meeting of any congress only
those whose credentials show that they were
regularly elected representatives. Members of
the house must be twenty-five years of age, and
Senators must have attained the age of thirty.
Members of the house can not be contractors, nor
be interested in any government contract, nor be
office holders, nor presidential electors, nor practi-
tioners in the court of claims. Any subject is eli-
gible to the house of commons who has reached the
age of twenty-One, except clergymen, peers, bank-
rupts, contractors and certain officials. No mem-
ber of parliament can be counsel before commit-
tees, nor a holder of office, except in the ministry.
In France the members of the chamber of
deputies may take part in the deliberations and
votes before the validity of their elections is
established. They wear a badge, consisting of
the fasces of the republic, with a hand of justice,
and a tri-colored sash. — MEETING. A meeting
of an assembly differs from a session. Thus, the
house frequently takes a recess to meet at a later
hour, and this terminates the meeting, or sit-
ting, but the session is the same, and includes
The clerk must put on the
all the adjourned meetings. – MESSAGE. Mes-
Sages in congress imply either executive com-
munications from the president (those from de-
partment officers are called “letters”), or from
one branch of congress to the other. The pres-
ident’s annual message is sent in at the begin-
ning of each session after he has been notified
that the houses are organized and ready to re-
ceive any communication. Messages are usually
sent in duplicate to both houses on the same day,
unless in response to a call from one branch only,
and are published in the journal and record.
A message from one house to the other, borne by
a clerk, is publicly announced at the door, and
sent to the chair, the business or debate being
temporarily suspended to have it announced,
when it is laid on the table, and the proceedings
are resumed. In parliament, messages from the
crown are sent to both houses, under the royal
sign-manual, by one of the ministers or an officer of
the royal household, either of whom is a peer or
a commoner. Such messages are always read at
length by the lord chancellor or the speaker. —
MILEAGE. This allowance for traveling expenses
to and from the seat of government prevails in
congress, and in all the states except four or five.
In congress it is twenty cents a mile each way for
the session, or rather for the year. In the states,
mileage varies from eight cents to twenty cents
per mile.— MoMEY BILLS. (See Revenue Bills. –
MORNING Hour. In each house of congress an
hour is set apart for reports, motions and miscel-
laneous business. It begins, not at the opening
of the session, but after the reading of the jour-
nal, and always takes precedence of unfinished
business. – MoTION. This term is applied to ev-
ery proposition submitted by a member of a par-
liamentary body. In ordinary assemblies, mo-
tions made by any one require to be seconded
by some other member, before being voted up-
on: but no second is required in either house of
congress. Motions are here treated severally un-
der their respective heads. Every motion must
be reduced to writing on the demand of any
member. If verbal, the presiding officer states it
to the assembly; if in writing, it is read by the
clerk. In the house, when a question is pend-
ing or under debate, no motion is in order but to
adjourn, to fix a day to which the house shall
adjourn, to take a recess, to lay on the table, to
postpone to a day certain, to postpone indefinitely,
to refer, to amend, or for the previous question.
In the senate the same rule prevails, except that
there is no previous question, and motions are in
order to commit, or to proceed to the consideration
of executive business. In both houses of parlia-
ment one day's notice of a proposed motion is
required; but the notice may refer to a future
day more remote than the day following. Motions
must be seconded in the house of commons; but
a seconder is not required in the lords. They
must be carefully prepared in writing, and placed
in the hands of the chair. — OATH. Members of
legislative bodies take an oath of qualification or
86
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
of office. In congress all must take an oath (or
affirmation, if objecting to being sworn) to support
the constitution of the United States. The “iron-
clad oath,” affirming that no aid has ever been
given to rebellion against the United States, is
taken by all who are not dispensed from it by
Sec. 1757 of the Revised Statutes. In parliament
a single oath of allegiance to the crown has been
substituted for oaths to maintain the Established
church, etc., once required. — OBJECTION. As
no business can be considered in the house out of
the regular order without unanimous consent, the
right to object becomes very important, as one
member can thus defeat or postpone a measure,
unless two-thirds of the house can be had to sus-
pend the rules. When in committee of the whole,
if any bill or proposition is objected to, the com-
mittee must rise and report the objection to the
house, which must decide without debate whether
it is to be considered or laid aside. — OFFICERs.
The officers usually chosen in a public assembly
are a president or chairman, clerk or secretary,
and sometimes vice-presidents, and a sergeant-at-
arms or doorkeeper. (See under each head.)—
OMNIBUs BILL. This term is applied in congress
to a bill embracing numerous distinct objects, as
in the bill “making appropriations for sundry
civil expenses of the government.”— ONE-HOUR
RULE. (See Hour Rule.)— ORDER. This may
be said to be the first law of a public assembly,
whether legislative or otherwise. The order of
business is treated under Business. The order of
the day is the regular routine prescribed in the
rules, in which certain classes of business are to
be considered. To call for the regular order, is
to demand that the body desist from what may be
proposed out of due order, and proceed to the
next business prescribed by the rules. A special
order is a subject set in advance for a particular
time, and thus to be preferred to the established
order of business. In both houses of congress
this motion requires a two-thirds vote for its
adoption, being virtually a suspension of the
rules. A special order may be postponed by a
majority vote. The unfinished business of the
preceding session takes precedence of a special
order. To preserve order is the implicit duty
of the presiding officer, and he or any member
may call to order members transgressing the
rules. In case of a call to order, a member
must immediately sit down unless permitted to
explain; and the house must at once decide the
case without debate. If in his favor, he is al-
lowed to proceed, but not otherwise. If called
to order for words spoken in debate, they must be
taken down in writing, and read to the house.
(See Censure.) When a point of order of any
kind is made, it is the duty of the chair to decide
it. This he may do by sustaining the point of
order, or by overruling it; and business proceeds
in accordance with his decision, unless appealed
from. (See Appeal.)—ORDERS, STANDING. (See
Rules.)—PAIRs. The pairing of members in a
legislative body is an agreement between two, who
would vote on opposite sides of any question, to
withhold their votes; such pairs leaving the result
unaffected either way. One or both of the mem-
bers paired may be absent. The rule in both
houses of congress requires pairs to be announced
after the roll-call, and the names paired published
in the record. In parliament pairing prevails to a
greater extent than in congress; members of oppo-
site parties pairing with each other not only upon
particular questions, but in cases of absenteeism.
for weeks and even months at a time. The sys-
tem has never been recognized by parliamentary
rules, though so long prevalent; in Congress the
first rule adopted which countenances pairing was.
in the 46th congress (1880). — PAPERS. The read-
ing of papers, if objected to, is determined by the
house without debate. A member, however, has
the right to read any paper as a part of his re-
marks. Papers of every description once offered
can not be withdrawn from the files without special
leave of the body. — PERSONAL EXPLANATION.
This is a member's request to be heard on some
matter touching his personal record as a member,
and requires unanimous consent. (See Privilege.)
— PETITION. Much time was once consumed by
members in formally presenting petitions in Open
house. The rule now is, for members to deliver
petitions to the clerk, indorsing their names and
the specific reference (to a committee) desired.
These minutes are entered upon the journal, and
published in the official record. In the Senate
they are still offered in open session during the
morning hour. At the close of a congress, peti-
tions and memorials go from committees to the
permanent files, in charge of the clerk. In par-
liament, petitions must be written, and must have
original signatures. They are presented in great
numbers, and a standing order refers them with-
out debate to the committee on public petitions.
In the French chambers a brief of petitions is:
printed for the use of members, and they are
referred to the committee on petitions, which
classifies them, referring some to the minister
of any department to whose business they be-
long, and others to the examination of the cham-
ber. Each petitioner is advised of the disposi-
tion made. Any deputy may call for a report
in public session upon any petition, and urgency
may be demanded (if seconded by the chamber)
for the consideration of any one. Every six
months ministers distribute a printed report to the
members, showing what action they have taken
upon the petitions referred to them. — POINT OF
ORDER. (See Order.)—PREAMBLE. The pre-
amble of a bill or resolution is postponed until the
other parts have been considered. When a Sep-
arate vote on the preamble is not asked for, it is
considered as adopted. — PRESIDENT PRO TEM.
In organizing a public assembly a temporary chair-
man is frequently chosen until a committee has
reported officers for permanent organization. In
the senate the president pro temporé is chosen to
take the place of the vice-president as presiding
officer; but this office is frequently left vacant for
PARLIAMENTARY LAW.
87
a time. — PREVIOUS QUESTION. In congress this
is a technical name for a motion that debate cease,
and that the vote be taken immediately on the
question under consideration. The motion for the
previous question is not debatable, and can not be
amended. The previous question was recognized
in the first rules of the house in 1789, and could
be demanded by five members. The present
rules require a majority of the members present
(if a quorum) to order the previous question.
When a member calls for the previous question,
the chair must immediately put the question,
“Shall the main question be now put?” If
adopted, the chair puts to vote the questions be-
fore the house in their order of precedence, till
the main question, with all subsidiary ones, is dis-
posed of. The previous question puts it in the
power of a majority to close debate at any time.
It does not prevail in the Senate, where the public
business is more at the mercy of individual sen-
ators. In parliament the previous question is
wholly different in effect. It is an ingenious
method of avoiding a vote upon any question
proposed. Those who call for the previous ques-
tion vote against the motion, not for it, as in the
house of representatives. If the nays prevail, the
speaker is prevented from putting the main ques-
tion, as the majority have thus refused to allow it
to be put. If the previous question is resolved in
the affirmative, no further debate or amendment
is allowed, and the main question must be voted
on at once. In the French chambers the cláture
of the debate is always in the control of a majority
of the chamber. (See Clóture.) — PRINTING. In
congress all bills and joint resolutions must be
printed after being offered; also reports of com-
mittees. A list of all reports required to be made
to congress must be printed at the beginning of
each session.
and the departments is regulated by the statutes
in great detail. — PRIVATE BILLS. The distinc-
tion between public and private bills is not closely
defined, some bills including interests both public
and private, and requiring the decision of the
chair as to which class they belong. In congress,
as in parliament, private bills are such as are for
the interest of individuals, corporations or local
bodies—as counties or cities. Bills relating to a
state are held to be public bills. No private claim
is in order upon any appropriation bill. Regular
days are set apart to consider private bills reported
favorably by committees. In parliament there is
a carefully guarded system of maturing private
bills, which saves a vast amount of legislative
time and prevents abuses. (See LEGISLATION,
vol. ii., p. 756.)—PRIVILEGE. The privilege of a
member of a legislative body rests upon the pre-
rogative of his constituency to be always repre-
sented. The constitution itself provides that
members shall not be questioned elsewhere for any
speech or debate in either house, and shall be
privileged from arrest during sessions, and in
going and returning. Questions of privilege, by
the rules of the house, have precedence of all
The public printing of congress
others, except of adjournment; but the highest
privilege attaches to questions affecting the rights
of the house itself, maintaining its dignity, and
the integrity of its proceedings. In maintaining
what are known as their privileges, both house
and Senate have resorted to one or more of the
following measures: 1, ordering the arrest of of.
fenders; 2, directing the speaker to reprimand the
party offending; 3, committing the party to the ,
Custody of the Sergeant-at-arms within the capi-
tol; 4, Ordering a refractory witness or a person
assaulting a member to be punished by imprison-
ment in the jail of the District of Columbia for
three months; 5, (in the case of reporters) direct-
ing exclusion from the hall. The most frequent
cases where either house seeks to protect its priv-
ilege by penalties are the refusals of witnesses
to testify before its committees; and many re-
cusant witnesses have been held in custody until
the congress has expired (and with it the power
to punish for contempt of its authority), or until
a majority have voted to discharge the prisoner,
or until he has consented to answer. When any
proposition presents, in the opinion of the speaker,
a question of privilege, he must entertain it in
preference to other business; but it is well settled
that the common plea of a question of privilege
based upon a newspaper publication can not be
maintained unless the member is assailed in his
representative capacity. The fact that imprison-
ment or other punishment by vote of a legislative
body contravenes the maxims of constitutional
law, and asserts quasi-judicial powers, has ren-
dered it obnoxious to public censure. The argu-
ment that the constitution confers no such power
is met by the claim that it is inherent in the
highest legislative body, essential to its power,
dignity and proper functions, and has been re-
peatedly exercised, not only by both houses of
congress, but by local legislatures. The supreme
court of the United States, in some earlier cases,
has upheld this power in congress, on the ground
of right and necessity: but in the recent case of
Rilbourne vs. Thompson the court held that the
imprisonment of the former for refusal to divulge
the private accounts of a company in a matter
under investigation by the house of representatives,
was illegal and unconstitutional. The plaintiff
had been imprisoned forty-five days in the Dis-
trict jail as a recusant witness, by order of the
house; and the speaker, and the Sergeant-at-arms,
with the members of the committee who ordered
the * to be brought before the house, were
joined as defendants. In the case of the mem-
bers, the court held that their constitutional priv-
ilege was a good defense to the action, as they
took no part in the actual arrest and imprisonment.
But it was held that the order of the house, de-
claring the witness guilty of contempt of its au-
thority and ordering his imprisonment by the
sergeant-at-arms, was void, and afforded the officer
no protection in the suit brought by the witness.
There was no power of the house to punish for
contempt found in the constitution; and no au-
88
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
thority to compel a witness to testify, where the
subject-matter of the investigation was judicial,
and not legislative, and was proceeding before the
proper court. (103 U. S. Reports, 168.) In par-
liament, while many arbitrary measures have
been aimed at persons held guilty of violating the
privileges of that body, the right to commit for
contempt has long been regarded with increasing
jealousy, and has been questioned for more than
two centuries, though maintained by the court of
king's bench. — QUALIFICATION. A member of
congress is qualified to act in his representative
capacity when his credentials have admitted him
to the floor, and he has taken the oath of office.
No man is disqualified from being a representative
who is twenty-five years of age, provided that
he has been seven years a citizen of the United
States, and was an inhabitant of the state in which
he has been chosen. The qualifications of a sen-
ator are: 1, to have reached the age of thirty; 2,
to have been nine years a citizen of the United
States; 3, to have been when elected a resident of
the state choosing him to represent it. A member
of the house of commons need be but twenty-
one years of age. (See Members.)— QUESTION.
Putting the question is one of the most frequent
duties of a presiding officer. It is to be put in
this form: “As many as are in favor, say Aye”;
and after the affirmative vote is heard: “As many
as are opposed, say No.” The chair must clearly
state the question on request of any member, be-
fore calling for the vote. Members when anxious
for the progress of business, or impatient of de-
bate, frequently cry, “Question! Question!” and
this, though technically a violation of the rules of
order, is seldom interfered with by a judicious
presiding officer. In parliament there is a special
practice of propounding questions to members
of the ministry, concerning public measures or
events. A question may be asked as to the in-
tentions of the government, but not as to their
opinions upon general matters of policy. —
QUORUM. Unless fixed by constitutional provis-
ion or by the law of the body, the quorum of
an assembly is a majority of its duly qualified
members. In congress less than a quorum may
adjourn from day to day, and may compel the
attendance of absentees. In the house it requires
the presence of at least fifteen members, to author-
ize a call of the house. The presence of a quo-
rum is frequently assumed, and business proceeds
in both house and senate when less than half the
number of members are present; but this may be
terminated by any member dividing the house,
thus disclosing the want of a quorum; whereupon
business must stop, and a call of the house (or
senate) must be ordered. In parliament forty
constitute a quorum in the commons, and three
only in the lords. In the French chambers an ab-
solute majority of the whole number of members
is required to render any action valid. — READING.
The reading of papers called for may be stopped
by the objection of any member, unless ordered
by a vote of the house ; but a member has the
right to read a paper as part of his remarks within
the limits of his privilege as to time. — RECESs.
This is a qualified form of adjournment; to take
a recess to a definite hour usually serves the pur-
pose of giving necessary rest and refreshment to
the members of the body, without long interrup-
tion to their public duties. The motion for this
is always in order, and not debatable. The term
recess is also applied to the long interval between
two annual sessions of congress; and powers are
often granted to committees to sit during this re-
cess. – RECOMMITMENT. When committees re-
port bills or resolutions digested by them, for
action of the body, it is usual (unless the commit-
tee has privilege of immediate consideration) to
recommit them to the committee. A rule of the
house provides that no bill thus recommitted shall
be brought back into the house on a motion to re-
consider. — RECONSIDERATION. In the house a
motion to reconsider a vote once taken is to be
made on the same day or the day after. It can
be made only by a member who voted with the
majority, if yeas and nays were taken; otherwise
any member may move it. It takes precedence
of all questions except adjournments and confer-
ence reports. The motion to reconsider is one of
great importance, since if it prevails, the former
action of the body is liable to be reversed. It is
to prevent the possibility of this that the usage
prevails for the member having charge of any
measure, the moment it is passed, to move to re-
consider the vote last taken, and also to move
that the motion to reconsider be laid on the table;
if the latter motion prevails it is deemed a finality,
so far as the passage of the measure is concerned.
A motion to reconsider can be applied to every
question except to adjourn and to suspend the
rules. It is debatable only when the question to
be reconsidered was debatable, and then it opens
up for discussion the entire subject. A reconsid-
eration requires only a majority vote. In parlia-
ment a vote once taken can not be reconsidered.—
REFERENCE. This term is applied to the refer-
ring of bills, petitions, etc., to appropriate com-
mittees to be considered and reported upon.
— REGULAR ORDER. (See Order.) — REPORT.
Committees, having finished the consideration of
any matter referred to them, must make a report
to the body thereon, and this is usually required
to be in writing. In congress most reports must
be printed, though private bills or measures of
pressing moment are sometimes acted upon with
merely a written report or recommendation. In
the senate, the committees must be called daily
for reports, during the morning hour; in the
house they are called daily, except on the first
and third Mondays of each month. When made,
they are usually printed and re-committed, or laid
over. Reports from six important committees are
in order at any time; others must wait their day, or
a two-thirds majority, for consideration. Reports
of executive departments are addressed to the
speaker, or to the president of the Senate, and are
invariably referred and printed. Such reports on
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
89
resolutions of inquiry must be made within one
week. The reports of house and senate commit-
tees at each session make several bulky volumes,
while the executive reports, both regular and
special, make a great many more. In parliament
the reports of special committees of the lords or
commons are usually published with the evidence
taken before them, and carefully indexed. In
France committee reports are to be printed twenty-
four hours at least before the bill to which they
relate is considered. — REPORTERS. The im-
portance of full public information has led to
special provision for reporters of the press in all
public assemblies. Each house of congress has
a corps of five official stenographers to take down
the votes, proceedings and debates verbatim for
publication the next day in the congressional
record. Besides this, two reporters of the asso-
ciated press are admitted on the floor of the house.
The reporters' gallery over the chair in both
houses is for the general press representatives,
under regulations made by the chair. In parlia-
ment, according to ancient usage, all strangers,
including reporters, might be excluded on the
motion of any member, and reporters have been
actually excluded as recently as in 1870 and 1878,
to avoid publicity being given to debates. In the
French chambers reporters are freely admitted
to the galleries.—REPRESENTATIVES. (See Mem-
bers.)—RESIGNATION. In congress the resignation
of any member is always considered his right; it
was never contested until the 41st congress, when
the speaker decided that the member had the right
to resign, and an appeal from the decision was laid
upon the table, thereby affirming it. The resig-
nation of a senator or representative is addressed
to the governor of the state; at the same time, it
is customary for the member to notify the pre-
siding officer, in writing, of the action he has
taken." In parliament it is a professedly settled
principle that a member can not relinquish his
seat; to evade this restriction, a member wish-
ing to retire accepts office under the crown; this
legally vacates his seat, and obliges the house to
order a new election. (See PARLIAMENT, THE
BRITISH.) In France any member has the right
of resignation at any time. — RESOLUTION. A
resolution of an assembly is an expression of
its opinion with respect to any matter, or a dec-
laration of the purpose of the assembly: thus,
the thanks of congress are presented by joint reso-
lution of the two houses. A resolution of inquiry
is passed by either house, requesting information
from the executive. A simple resolution of one
body, whether declaring opinion or otherwise,
does not of course bind congress, and is not pub-
lished in the statutes, but only in the journal and
the record. Joint resolutions, on the contrary,
have all the force of laws, and frequently con-
tain appropriations of public money. Concurrent
resolutions (chiefly providing for the printing of
documents, etc.) appear in the statutes, but are
not signed by the president. In the senate all
resolutions, if objected to, must lie over one
day. In parliament a simple resolution of either
house has not the force of law. Every resolution
reported by a committee may be amended, dis-
agreed to, postponed or recommitted. — REVENUE
BILLS. All bills for raising revenue must, by the
constitution, originate in the house of representa-
tives, but the senate may amend them. In the
house, bills relating to the tariff or internal rev-
enue belong to the committee of ways and means; .
in the Senate, to the committee on finance; and
such bills may be reported at any time, the motion
to consider them being always in order after
morning hour. Notwithstanding the jealousy of
the house of its prerogative in matters of revenue,
the Senate has exercised great powers in changing
revenue bills; the latest and most extreme instance
of this was in the tariff revision act of 1883, where
the senate amended a small internal revenue reduc-
tion bill passed by the house, by adding to it a rad-
ical revision of the entire tariff system, and this,
with some changes, was accepted by the house.
In parliament, bills for raising revenue are called
money bills, and are amendable by the lords if
they do not alter the intention of the commons
by increase or reduction, duration, or methods of
raising the revenue. — RIDERS. A rider to a bill
implies tacking on to it, by motion, or the action
of a committee, matters of legislation foreign to
the subject of the bill itself. In parliament these
riders are called “tacks.” It has been a too com-
mon practice in congress to attach to regular
appropriation bills, which must be passed under
penalty of embarrassing the government, riders
containing new legislation having nothing to do
with the appropriations. This practice is resorted
to, 1, to carry through a measure otherwise hope-
less of being reached under the rules; 2, to effect
the amendment or repeal of existing laws; 3, to
force upon the other house, when opposed in
political opinion, a measure obnoxious to it, and
certain to be defeated by it as a separate bill. So
far had this thrusting into appropriation bills of
legislation foreign to their objects been carried,
that the house adopted a rule that no provision in
or amendment to any general appropriation bill
shall be in order which changes existing law, ex-
cept such as is germane and retrenches expendi-
tures. Another rule prohibits the amendment of
any bill or resolution by incorporating the sub-
stance of any other bill or resolution pending.
Rule twenty-nine of the senate forbids amend-
ments to be received which propose general legis-
lation, which provide for a private claim, or which
are not germane or relevant to the subject matter
of the bill. — RISE. In committee of the whole
the motion that the committee rise is equivalent
to the adjournment of its functions for the time
being. — Roll. The roll of a public body is the
list (in alphabetical order) of the officially quali-
fied members. The roll-call is a clerical calling
out of all the members’ names, that they may
answer either as present or as voting yea or nay.
(See Call, Yeas and Ways.) — RULES. These are
of the first importance as agencies for preserv-
90
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
ing order in the conduct of public business. In
most assemblies for a temporary purpose it is
usual either to adopt the rules of the house of
representatives, or to permit the chairman to de-
cide questions of order and precedence according
to his understanding of parliamentary law. In
permanently organized bodies the constitution and
by-laws adopted form the leading rules which
control action, though at all meetings appeal to a
more comprehensive code of parliamentary law is
often necessary. In the house of representatives
the latest thorough revision of the rules was in
1880. This revision embraces forty-five separate
rules divided into sections, the last of which pro-
vides that these shall be the rules of each congress
unless otherwise ordered. Thomas Jefferson has
the honor of having formulated, while vice-presi-
dent, the first rules of parliamentary law ever put
into systematic form in this country. The rules
laid down in his “Manual of Parliamentary
Practice” (first published in 1801) are still de-
clared to govern the house where they are appli-
cable, and not inconsistent with the standing rules
adopted. Each house having constitutional power
to determine the rules of its proceedings, those of
the senate and house differ widely. A standing
committee on rules exists in each body, of which
! in the house, the speaker forms one. Several no-
table struggles over the application or the radi-
cal change of the rules have occurred, one of
which, in the 47th congress, drew a decision from
the speaker that, as the right of the house to
determine its rules was a constitutional One, the
majority had at all times the power to make
or to alter rules independently of the existing
ones, and that no dilatory motions to obstruct
their adoption or amendment could be enter-
tained. The suspension of the rules is moved
so as to make some business in order which
would not be regularly so under the rules. This
requires a vote of two-thirds of those present, and
must be seconded by a majority, counted by tell-
ers if demanded. This motion is debatable for
thirty minutes only. It can be made only on the
first and third Mondays of each month, or during
the last six days of a session. The rules of the
senate, as last revised, in 1877, are seventy-eight in
number. No motion to modify or suspend a rule
is in order except on one day's notice in writing;
but any rule except the 18th (regulating the vote by
yeas and nays) may be suspended by unanimous
consent of the Senate. In parliament the rules
are called standing orders, which continue from
one parliament to another until modified. The
“sessional orders” are resolutions renewed from
year to year, and are few in number. In the
French chamber of deputies the rules are em-
bodied in a code of 154 articles, which the presi-
dent is required to maintain. Any appeal to the
rules or question of order takes precedence of
whatever business is in hand, and Suspends de-
bate. — SCRUTIN DE LISTE. This signifies a vote
by ticket, and is required in the French chambers
in the election of vice-presidents, Secretaries and
questors. —SEATs. Technically, the seat of a
member is his function of representative; literally,
it is the chair, desk or bench occupied by a mem-
ber. The seats of Senators and representatives in
congress are arm-chairs, each provided with a
writing desk. In the house they are drawn by
lot, at the organization, every two years; in the
senate they are “spoken for ” or selected, in ad-
vance when vacancies occur, by individual sen-
ators. In both, members of the same party sit
together in general, the democrats occupying the
seats to the right of the chair, and the repub-
licans those to the left. In parliament and in
the French chambers benches are used as seats,
and no desks are tolerated. — SECRET SESSION.
In the senate, sessions for the consideration of
executive business (nominations to office and
treaties) are held with closed doors. These ex-
ecutive sessions may be moved at any stage of
the open or legislative session, but are more com-
monly held just before final adjournment for
the day. The chamber is then cleared of all
persons except the secretary, four clerks, and
the sergeant-at-arms and such of his assistants
as the president deems necessary, all of whom
must be sworn to secrecy. Any senator disclos-
ing confidential proceedings of the Senate is lia-
ble to expulsion, and any officer to dismissal
and punishment for contempt. But though this.
is the rule, the practice is widely different; and
the votes and speeches in secret session become.
known so speedily and so generally as to lead to
the conclusion that an injunction of Secrecy is a
dead letter. To adopt a treaty laid before the
senate by the executive the concurrence of two-
thirds of the senators present is necessary. Nomi-
nations made by the president in executive session
are referred to committees for consideration and
report. No nomination to office can be confirmed
on the day it is received or reported, except by
unanimous consent. No extract from the execu-
tive journal (of secret proceedings of the Senate)
can be furnished, except by special order of the
Senate. All the sessions of the Senate were secret.
until the 6th congress (1799), when that body
voted to give them the publicity ever since main-
tained. Rule thirty of the house provides for
secret sessions to receive confidential communica-
tions from the president, or at the instance of the
speaker or any member who has communications
which he believes ought to be kept secret for the
present; but there has been no such instance for
many years. In parliament, though the presence
of the public is legally ignored, there are always
a limited number of spectators in each house,
except when (in rare instances) a member moves
that strangers be excluded because of some de-
bate which it is deemed expedient to keep secret. —
SECRETARY. Next to the presiding officer the most
important organ of a public assembly is the Sec-
retary or clerk, these two terms being interchange-
able, to denote the recording officer. He is to keep
the record of proceedings (minutes or journal), and
it is usual to have this record read and approved at
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
91.
the meeting next following that which it covers.
This record should embrace every motion or reso-
lution, whether adopted, amended, rejected, or
otherwise disposed of. The secretary has the cus-
tody of all papers, and should keep an order of
business, list of all committees, reports, votes,
etc. The secretary of the senate performs the
same duties as the clerk of the house of repre-
sentatives (see Clerk), and, in addition, pays the
salaries of members of the senate, which is done
in the house by the sergeant-at-arms.-SENATORS.
(See Elections.)—SERGEANT-AT-ARMs. This officer
represents the authority of the body to enforce its
rules, and protect its dignity. In the house and
senate he is an elective officer, and in the former
body is charged with paying the salaries of mem-
bers. He is required in both houses to attend the
sittings of the body, to maintain order and de-
corum, to serve process and make arrests when
ordered, to take absentees into custody upon a
call of the house, and to make regulations to pro-
tect the capitol and public property therein, in-
cluding (in conjunction with the architect of the
capitol) the appointment and control of the capitol
police. In parliament the Sergeant-at-arms of each
house is appointed by the crown and for life.
Besides similar duties to those defined above, he
is a leading figure on state occasions. – SESSION.
This term denotes, 1, the time occupied by a sit-
ting of the body after organizing for the day till
adjournment; 2, the time spent in public business
(usually several months), from the first convening
of the members until their adjournment to the
next session. Two annual sessions are usual in
congress, although one or more extra sessions
have been not infrequent, which are called
“special sessions,” to distinguish them from the
annual. The annual sessions begin on the first
Monday in December, and terminate on the fourth
of March at noon every alternate year, i. e., the
odd years, when the term of a congress expires. In
the even years, when this limitation does not exist,
the session continues from five to nine months.
(See CoNGRESS, SESSIONS OF, vol. i., p. 594.)
Sessions of parliament usually last from Febru-
ary to August, besides which, special sessions oc-
cur when public emergency demands.—SPEAKER.
This is the name of the presiding officer in
each house of parliament, and in the house of
representatives of the American congress. Be-
ing, as his title imports, the mouthpiece or organ
of the body, the speaker is to express the will
of the house. In congress he is elected vºvá
woce, on the convening of each new congress,
and the completion of the roll-call of members-
elect. Upon being chosen, he is usually installed
in the chair by the members who were his rival
candidates for the office; the oath is administered
to him by the oldest member in continuous serv-
ice, after which he swears in all the other mem-
bers, before entering on any other business. He
receives $8,000 salary; he succeeds to the presi-
dency, in case of the office being vacant through
failure to fill it by the president, vice-president or
president of the senate. It is his duty to preserve
order, state all questions, decide points of order,
name members to speak, appoint all standing
and Select committees, sign all acts, joint reso-
lutions and processes of the house, appoint its
official reporters and stenographers of commit-
tees, and have control of the hall, etc. The
Speaker has the right to vote as a member, but is
not required to vote except in case of a tie,
or when the house votes by ballot. If absent,
without having appointed a member to perform
the duties of the chair (which power is limited
to ten days), the house must elect a speaker pro
tempore. — SPECIAL ORDERs. (See Orders.)—
STANDING ORDERs. (See Rules.) — STRIKING
OUT. In the house a motion to strike out part.
of a bill, if lost, does not preclude a motion
to strike out and insert. The motion to strike.
out and insert can not be divided. A motion
to strike out the enacting clause of a bill has
the effect to reject the bill; such motion takes.
precedence of a motion to amend. — SUBSTI-
TUTE. A substitute for an amendment in the
second degree is in order, but can not be voted
on until the original matter is perfected. Any
committee may report a substitute for any bill re-
ferred to them, when the substitute alone is consid-
ered, and is treated as an original bill. — SUNDAY.
Both houses of congress sometimes sit on Sunday,
when public business is pressing. In such cases it
is usual to continue the journal as of the pre-
ceding day's date. In parliament four Sunday
meetings of the body are recorded as occasioned
by the demise of the crown, and on several other
occasions debates have been continued into Sun-
day morning. — SUPPLY. This is the technical
term applied in parliament to all appropriations,
for the public service. The right of the commons
to originate bills of supply is paramount, and the
lords may not amend such bills except verbally.
Sometimes the commons have tacked to bills of
supply measures which by themselves would have
been rejected by the lords; but this has been re-
sisted by protest, by conference, and by rejection
of the bills, and there is no recent instance of at-
tempts to force the lords by putting “riders” on
bills which the lords have no right to amend.
(See BUDGET, vol. i., p. 318; also Appropriations
and Revenue Bills.) — SUSPENSION OF RULES.
(See Rules.)— TABLE. In a public assembly the
motion to lay any matter on the table takes prece-
dence of all questions except those of privilege and
adjournment. It is not debatable, and can not be
amended. It does not imply the defeat of a meas-
ure, but simply removes it from consideration
until it is voted to take it from the table. But
in the house of representatives the usual purpose
of the motion to lay on the table is to give a
measure its death-blow, and when it prevails it
is rarely taken up again during the session. If
carried, the effect of the motion to table is to defer
the principal question under consideration and all
matters connected with it. In congress all business
coming from the other house, or communications
92
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
from government officers, are laid on the table un-
less referred to a committee or otherwise disposed
of. A motion to lay upon the table is in order
on the second and third reading of a bill. When
a motion to reconsider is laid on the table the
latter vote can not be reconsidered, and if carried,
is held in both houses to be a final disposition
of the motion. The business on the speaker's
table implies, 1, executive communications; 2,
messages from the Senate, with bills passed or
amended by them; 3, engrossed bills. Near the
close of a session a great accumulation of bills,
etc., in every stage of progress toward enactment,
lies on the speaker's table, most of which usually
remains undisposed of. In the senate all resolu-
tions, reports of committees, and discharges of
committees from the consideration of subjects,
must lie on the table one day for consideration,
unless otherwise determined by unanimous con-
sent. — TELLERS. By a rule of the house of rep-
resentatives a vote must be taken by tellers if de-
manded by one-fifth of a quorum; or the speaker
may appoint tellers if in doubt as to the viv'ſ voce
or the rising vote. He must name a member
from each side of the question to act as teller;
these two meet in the middle aisle and shake
hands; the chair requests all members voting in
the affirmative to pass between the tellers, who
count them, and report to the clerk’s desk; those
voting in the negative are next called to pass be-
tween the tellers; this count being reported, the
chair declares the result. It is customary, when
on a division less than half the house vote, for the
speaker at once to order tellers. In parliament
two tellers from each party are appointed to count
the members when dividing the house. In the
United States senate no vote is ever taken by
tellers. (See Division, also Vote.) — TERRITORIES.
The delegates from territories have seats and sala-
ries in the house like other members, with the right
to speak and participate in business by offering mo-
tions, etc., and (latterly) to be appointed on eight
of the standing committees. They have no right
to vote. The territories are called every Monday,
after the states, for bills, memorials, etc., for ref-
erence. — TIE WOTE. When the votes are equal
in number on each side of any question, the gen-
eral parliamentary rule is that the question is lost;
but in the Senate the vice-president has the casting
or decisive vote in case of a tie; though in his ab-
sence the president pro tem., having already voted
as a senator, can not decide the result as presid-
ing officer, and if the votes are equal the question
is lost. In the house the speaker is required to
vote only when his vote would be decisive if
counted; and in all cases of a tie vote the ques-
tion is lost. In the house of lords the speaker
votes as a peer, and has no casting vote as presid-
ing officer. In the house of commons the speaker
has the casting vote in case of a tie, but does not
vote as a member. — TWO-THIRDS WOTE. A ma-
jority of two-thirds is required in the house to
suspend the rules, to dispense with the morning
hour for call of committees, to dispense with pri-
vate business on Fridays, or to pass in either house
a bill vetoed by the president. The latter major-
ity is construed to mean two-thirds of the members
present, not of the whole number of members.
— UNANIMOUS CONSENT. (See Consent.) – WA-
CANCY. Vacancies in the membership of assem-
blies can usually be filled in accordance with the
vote of the majority of members. In congress
Senatorial vacancies are notified to the governor
of the state, who, in the recess of the legislature,
may fill the vacancy by appointment, pending the
choice of a senator by the legislature when next
convened. A vacancy in the house can be filled
only by a new election by the people of the con-
gressional district left without a representative.
Vacancies in the house of commons are filled by
election pursuant to a writ issued out of chancery
by warrant from the speaker, — VETO. In the
congress of the United States and in most of the
state legislatures any bill passed may be disap-
proved by the executive for reasons given. This
veto may be overruled in congress by a vote of
two-thirds of the members of each house present
and voting. In parliament, though the crown
may legally veto any measure passed, the power
has not been exercised for about two centuries
(See VETO.)— WoTE. The sense of an assembly
is declared by its votes. In most formal or infor-
mal meetings the chair is to put all questions to
vote after inquiring if the assembly is ready for
the question, in case it is a debatable one. There
are various forms of taking a vote: 1, vivá Voce,
by the chairman calling successively the ayes and
the noes, and declaring the question carried or
lost according to the preponderance of voices; 2,
by a show of hands, each side in succession hold-
ing up the right hand and being counted; 3, by
rising and standing until counted on either side;
4, by a count of members passing through tellers,
those in favor of the measure going first, and
those opposed after, the number of each side
being reported by the tellers and declared by the
chair; 5, by yeas and nays, where each member
answers to the call of his name, and is registered
in a formal record; 6, by ballot, or secret written
vote—this is used chiefly in the election of officers
or committees by the assembly itself. In the
house a member has the right to change his vote
before the result has been announced by the
chair. Every member must vote on each ques-
tion put, unless excused, or directly interested in
the event of the question. The result of every
vote, and the names voting on every roll-call, with
the absentees, are published in the journal and in
the congressional record. In parliament the votes
and proceedings are printed and distributed daily.
(For methods of voting in parliament, see Divis-
Žon, see also Ballot, Division, Tellers, Yeas and
Nays.)—WAYS AND MEANs. This term, bor-
rowed from the British parliament, implies the gov-
ernment revenues and the methods or provisions
for collection of the same. A committee of ways
and means was first created in the house of repre-
sentatives in 1789; it originally consisted of Seven
PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.
93
members: it became a standing committee in 1795.
It has since been gradually increased to thirteen
members. To it are referred all matters and pro.
posed legislation relating to the revenue and the
bonded debt of the United States. The committee
of ways and means, having charge of the entire
tariff system and internal revenue taxation, as
well as of financial measures and the public debt,
is a most important body, and its chairmanship
is considered the highest office in the gift of the
speaker. As the chancellor of the exchequer is
the leader of the house of commons, the chairman
of the committee of ways and means was formerly
accounted the leader of the house of representa-
tives; but since the withdrawal from that com-
mittee (in 1865) of all business relating to the ex-
penditures of the government (which is assigned
to the committee on appropriations), the ways and
means committee has been shorn of much of its
power, and its chairman of his prestige as leader.
Still, these two committees engross between them
the greater part of the time of congress; and in the
alternate years, when the Session is limited to three
months, little other business has a chance of se-
curing attention. To be a member of the commit-
tee of ways and means is regarded as a very high
position, and commonly excuses those appointed
to it from service on other committees. The com-
mittee of the senate having charge of the same
subjects is styled the committee of finance, and
was first organized in 1816. Measures reported
by either of these committees are customarily
privileged, i. e., to be considered before any others.
In parliament the committee of ways and means is
constituted directly after the annual opening, but,
unlike the American usage, it is not a select or
standing committee lasting through the life of the
body, but a committee of the whole house; in other
words, it is the house itself, presided over by a
chairman instead of by the speaker. This official
chairman is designated the chairman of the com-
mittee of ways and means, and also presides in
the committee of supply, and over other commit-
tees of the whole house. Like the speaker, he is
a salaried officer. The committee of ways and
means determines in what manner the necessary
funds shall be raised for the public service, as
voted by the committee of supply. The most im-
portant occasion for which the committee of ways
and means is required to sit, is, to receive the
financial statement for the year from the chancel-
lor of the exchequer. This is known as the budget.
(See BUDGET, vol. i., p. 318.) — WITHDRAWAL.
The right to withdraw a motion or a bill is se-
cured by the rules at any time before a decision or
amendment, except after the previous question
has been seconded. All incidental questions fall
with the withdrawal of the main question. (For
withdrawal of papers, see Papers.) — WITNESSEs.
The summoning of witnesses to be examined by
a committee requires an order of the house, unless
the committee is first clothed with power to send
for persons and papers. Witnesses are paid $2 a
day, and five cents per mile of travel. Failure or
refusal of a witness to appear or to testify is a
breach of the privileges of the house; besides
which the revised statutes make such refusal a
misdemeanor punishable by fine and imprison-
ment. (R. S., sec. 102.) In parliament witness-
eS must answer on examination before Commit-
tees, and are sworn at the bar of either house.
Recusant witnesses are generally sent to New-
gate. (See Privilege.) — WRIT. This is a pro-
cess of the house signed by the speaker, attest-
ed by the clerk under the seal of the house,
and served by the sergeant-at-arms. In parlia-
ment the writs for the election of new members are
issued by the speaker's warrant addressed to the
clerk of the crown, and transmitted by him through
the postoffice. Writs of summons for a parlia-
ment to meet are issued by the crown, under ad-
vice of the privy council. These writs must be
issued at least thirty-five days before the time
fixed for the convening of the new parliament. —
YEAS AND NAYS. The constitution requires that
the yeas and nays of the members of either house
shall be entered on the journals at the desire of
one-fifth of those present; also that the vote on
any bill vetoed by the president shall be recorded
by yeas and nays. It is very common for mem-
bers to demand a vote by yeas and nays, to make
a record, or, when dissatisfied with the result of a
division by other methods; but whenever less
than one-fifth of the members present rise to sec-
ond the call, the yeas and nays are refused. This
vote can not be taken in committee of the whole
house; the roll-call once begun can not be inter-
rupted for any purpose. After the roll-call is
completed, the names of members who have failed
to answer must be called again; after which the full
list of yeas and nays must be read, and errors or
omissions announced by members corrected. —In
both houses members must answer without debate
or reasons assigned for the vote. (See Vote.)—BIB-
LIOGRAPHY. May (Sir T. Erskine), Treatise on the
Law, Privileges, Proceedings and Usage of Parlia-
ment, 8th ed., Lond., 1879; Cushing (L. S.), Lea:
Parliamentaria : The Law and Practice of Legis-
lative Assemblies, Boston, 1874; McDonald (W. J.),
Constitution of the United States, Rules of the
Senate, etc., Washington, 1881; Standing Rules
for Conducting Business in the Senate of the Unit-
ed States, Washington, 1882; Digest and Manual
of the Rules and Practice of the House of Rep-
Tesentatives, compiled by H. H. Smith, 6th ed.,
Washington, 1883; Traité pratique du Droit par-
lementaire, par J. Poudra et E. Pierre, Paris, 1878;
Jefferson (T.), Manual of Parliamentary Practice,
New York, 1876; Fish (G. T.), American Manual
of Parliamentary Law, New York, 1880; Göpp
(C.), Leitfaden, d. parlam. Geschäfts Ordnung, New
York, 1871; Robinson (W. S.), Warrington’s Man-
'wal for the Information of Officers and Members of
Legislatures, Conventions, Societies, etc., Boston,
1875; Wilson (O. M.), Digest of Parliamentary
Law, Philadelphia, 1869; Cushing (L. S.), Rules of
Proceeding in Deliberative Assemblies, Boston, 1877;
Barclay (J. M.) Constitution of the United States,
94
PARTICIPATION IN PROFITS.
Jefferson’s Manual, and Barclay's Digest, Wash-
ington, 1873; Ferrall (S.A.), Eagosition of the Law
of Parliament, London, 1837; Hatsell (J.), Prece-
dents of Proceedings in the House of Commons, 4
vols., London, 1818; Symonds (A.), Mechanics of
Jaw Making, London, 1835; Smith (T.), Chairman
and Speaker's Guide, London, 1840; Clifford &
Stephens, Private Bill Practice ºn Parliament, Lon-
don, 1870; Webster's Members’ Procedure Book in
Parliament, London, 1868; Réglement de la Cham-
Ore des Députés, Paris, 1880; Robert (H. M.), Pock-
et Manual of Rules of Order for Deliberative Assem-
blies, Chicago, 1876. A. R. SPOFFORD.
PARTICIPATION IN PROFITS. Among
the many schemes for healing the apparent breach
between labor and capital, a breach that is due in
great part to the fact that these two factors of
production are supplied by two distinct classes,
termed capitalists and laborers, is that of allow-
ing the laborer to share in the profits of the enter-
prise. “It would be of great importance,” wrote
Mr. Babbage in 1832, “if, in every large estab-
lishment, the mode of payment could be so ar-
ranged that every person employed should derive
advantage from the success of the whole; and
that the profits of each individual should advance,
as the factory itself produced profit, without the
necessity of making any change in the wages.”
And he then describes a system that had long
been in use among the Cornish mines, which was
somewhat like that he proposes for his “new
system of manufacturing.” This new system
was hardly noticed at the time, but it was one of
the earliest attempts to introduce participation in
profits by the laborer. Strictly speaking, partici-
pation is not a form of co-operation, for in the
co-operative principle the capitalist and laborer are
combined, the capital necessary to the undertak-
ing being furnished by those who also supply the
labor; and as they assume all the risk, all the
profit or loss is also theirs. In participation, how-
ever, the capital is, as a rule, still furnished by
one class, and the labor by another; but the laborer
is allowed to share in the profits received over
and above a certain share which is set apart as a
remuneration for the capital employed and for
the Supervision and management of the undertak-
ing. If the profits are not sufficient to cover this
share which belongs to capital, no distribution is
made among the workmen. —In support of par-
ticipation it is urged that, by stimulating him to
make his best endeavors, it increases the efficiency
of the workman, this result being attained either
by effecting a saving in the material used, or by
increasing the absolute product of labor. It in-
fluences the moral character of the laborer by
making him more industrious (as on this not only
depends the total profit but also his share of the
profits), more thrifty and provident, and in a
measure more independent. By giving him a
direct interest in the success of the undertaking
it brings him into close relationship with his
employer, and differences are less apt to arise
between them. On the other hand, it is urged
that the laborer is working for a reward that is
uncertain, and affected by circumstances beyond
his control; that he is likely to become discon-
tented if the profits decrease and his supplemen-
tary wages diminish; that in many instances he
is forced to become a partner in the undertaking,
and his freedom of movement and of contract is
to that extent restricted; that he is thus made to
share all the risks attending any industrial enter-
prise, without being allowed any voice in the
conduct of the undertaking. — There are many
forms of participation, many of them being
but modifications of co-operation. Of the real
industrial partnerships the following may be
mentioned as typical: In 1842 a Paris trades-
man, M. Leclaire, finding that high wages did
not produce a corresponding increase in the
zeal and diligence of his workmen, and being
unable to personally supervise all the details of
the work, determined to create a common in-
terest between himself and his employés. The
surest way of increasing their efficiency was to
proportion their remuneration to the results ob-
tained from their labor, and he therefore pro-
posed to divide among such as he should select
a portion of any increased profits that might ac-
crue from their exertions. At the end of the
year 5 per cent. of the net profits was to be set
aside for the capital employed, and a salary for
himself as superintendent; all that remained was
to be divided among certain of the laborers in
proportion to the wages they had received. The
result of the first year was remarkable, and his
system, somewhat modified in form, has continued
till the present day. The first year he distributed
12,200 francs, no laborer who had worked 300
days in the year receiving less than 450 francs as a
supplementary income, equal to two-fifths of his
regular salary; in the second year the distributive
fund exceeded 17,000 francs, and in the third year
it was more than 18,000 francs. Encouraged by
this success, the business was remodeled and its
operations extended. As at present constituted,
the net profits are divided into three parts: one-
half is distributed among such workmen as M.
Léclaire designates, in proportion to the wages
earned by each participant; one-fourth is paid to
a provident society, of which all the persons in his
employment are members; and one-fourth goes to
the partner (patron directeur). The workmen are
divided into two classes, one of which, compris-
ing a third of the total number, are entitled to a
share in the distribution of profits, but the Second
class do not share in the profits, but receive a
small addition to their daily pay, and are entitled
to all the benefits conferred by the provident
society. The minor details of the system do not
concern us here. — For many years a large rail-
road in France (Chemºn defer d’Orléans) set apart
15 per cent. of the surplus or net profits to be
divided among certain of its employés. During
the first years of the experiment the plan worked
fairly well; but as the operations of the road were
PARTIES.
95
extended, the number of employés was largely
increased, the expenses of management became
larger, the fund for distribution became less, and
also the share of each participant, so that while in
1853 the company divided 1,966,963 francs among
3,365 persons, in 1868 it divided only 1,775,559
francs among 11,376 employés. The main object
to be gained in this case was to insure as far as
possible a greater care of the valuable plant on
the part of the employés, and this could be better
secured in no other way. — The third type is to
be found in the plan adopted by Messrs. Henry
Briggs, Son & Company in their Yorkshire col-
lieries. Prior to the passage of the limited lia-
bility act such an arrangement as M. Leclaire's
could not have been adopted in England with-
out making the workmen liable for the losses
incurred, in that they shared in the profits of the
undertaking. But this barrier being removed,
Messrs. Briggs were among the first to take ad-
vantage of participation. In 1865 they formed a
limited liability joint stock company, retaining
two-thirds of the stock in their own hands. The
remaining portion they offered to their employés
in shares of £10 each, and stipulated at the same
time that whenever the profits of the business
should exceed 10 per cent. on the capital em-
ployed, one-half of this profit was to be divided
among the employés. The plan worked with ad-
vantage for a number of years, but disputes aris-
ing through the fluctuations in the coal market,
the arrangement has been annulled. — The distri-
bution of profits may either be made in a cash
payment at the end of the year, or the share of
profit may be capitalized during a certain period,
the interest being drawn by the workman, and
the principal, on his death, going where he may
wish; Or, a part may be paid in cash and a part
capitalized. The manner of payment differs
widely in the various establishments that have
adopted the system. — It is not believed that par-
ticipation in profits will ever be widely in use, as
it can be successfully applied to only a limited
number of occupations. “The fund on which
participation draws is the surplus profit realized
in consequence of the enhanced efficiency of the
work done under its stimulating influence. Such
extra profit is therefore obtainable wherever work-
men have it in their power to increase the quan-
tity, improve the quality, or diminish the cost
price, of their staple of production by more effect-
ive production, by increased economy in the use
of tools and Iſlaterials, and by a reduction in the
cost of superintendence. In other words, the
surplus profit realizable will depend on the influ-
ence which manual labor is capable of exerting
upon production. Evidently, therefore, this in-
fluence will be greatest in branches of industry
where the skill of the laborer plays the leading
part, where the outlay on tools and materials bears
a Small ratio to the cost of production, and where
individual superintendence is difficult and expen-
sive. It will, on the contrary, be least effective
in industries where mechanism is the principal
agency, where the interest on capital fixed in ma-
chinery is the chief element of cost prices, and
where the workmen, assembled in large factories,
can be easily and effectively superintended.”
Another limitation lies in the fact that its ap-
plication depends, in every case, on the will of
the employer. “It is not to be expected,” says
W. T. Thornton, “that employers will often be
found entering into special engagements with their
laborers, in trades in which such special engage-
ments must necessarily result in pecuniary loss to
themselves; even in trades to which the bonus
system is best adapted, unless employers choose to
adopt it of their own accord, there are, of course,
no means of compelling them. In the utmost de-
velopment, therefore, of which it is susceptible,
the partnership or bonus system can never affect
more than a portion of the laboring population.”
Still another objection is named by Thorold Rog-
ers: “that it necessitates the abandonment of
that secrecy which it is believed is essential at all
times, and particularly in some emergencies, to
success. The value of secrecy may be overrated,
probably is; but its significance is felt, and will
in all likelihood be felt more and more as the
principle of limited liability is adopted.” It is
not known that this policy has been adopted to
any extent in the United States. – AUTHORITIES.
Böhmert, Die Gewinnbetheiligung, 1878; Fouger.
ouse, Patrons et Ouvriers de Paris, 1880; Billon,
Participation des Ouvriers aua. Bénéfices des Pat-
'rons, 1877; Pare's Co-operative Agriculture, 1870;
Leroy-Beaulieu, La Question Ouvrière au XIXe
Siècle, 1872; and Thornton, On Labor.
WORTHINGTON C. FORD.
PARTIES, Political. I. Idea of Parties;
Government Party; Opposition. Throughout all
history we find that, wherever an active life of the
people and of the state has been developed, polit-
ical parties have sprung into existence. An ab-
sence of political parties is observed only where
there prevails a passive indifference to all public
concerns, or where tyrannical Oppression by the
ruling powers prevents all common manifesta-
tion of opinion and aspirations by whole groups
of the population. In such cases, however, the
power and tendency of the people to form par-
ties exist, if they are at all capable of political
life; but this power and tendency at one time lie
dormant, while at another they lack the air and
light necessary to their growth, and the room they
require for action. At times the impulse to form
political parties, when suppressed in political life,
is directed into other channels; it passes into the
religious or ecclesiastical domain, and makes ex-
isting scientific, artistic and social differences more
marked. Between such parties and political par-
ties there exists a certain kind of elective affinity,
Thus, a reactionary party in the church will, as
a rule, in matters political, sympathize with a
party of absolutism, the old traditional theological
school with a conservative party, and the critical
theological school or party, by way of preference,
96
PARTIES.
with the liberal parties in politics. In this work
we have to do exclusively with political parties,
and we can notice non-political parties only in so
far as they are attracted to or repulsed by political
parties. – The most gifted and freest nations
politically are precisely those that have the most
sharply defined parties; for the most important
phenomena in the life of the state are conditioned
by party struggles. It is only through the strug-
gle and interaction of opposing forces that all
the hidden wealth of a people's powers is made
clearly manifest. This proves the necessity and
utility of the formation of parties. Parties are
not a serious evil to the state, as many narrow
and over-anxious minds are inclined to think. It
reflects no glory on a statesman to stand aloof
from his party, and it is no commendable virtue
in the citizen of a state to belong to no party.
For parties are, in the very nature of the case,
the necessary manifestations of the innermost im-
pulses of the public heart of the nation. — Parties,
as implied by the term itself, are always only a
part of the nation. A party, accordingly, can
possess only the consciousness of one part of the
nation, and must not identify itself with the
whole, the people, the state. Hence, one party
may combat other parties, but it must not ignore
them, nor wish to destroy them. One party can
not subsist alone; it owes its existence and de-
velopment only to the opposing party. — Precisely
because the prince in a monarchical country rep-
resents in his own person the unity of the state,
and hence of all persons in the state, it is exacted
of him, and almost exclusively of him, that he
shall not espouse the cause of any party, and
that he shall tolerate and respect all parties, each
according to its character and rights. He may, in-
deed, choose to rely on any one party, because the
latter, at a given time, seems particularly fitted to
determine the policy of the state, and he may also
have just cause for sharply watching the doings of
parties that seem to endanger the public well-being.
He may also, without sacrificing that impartiality
(and impartiality is always his duty), declare him-
self in favor of one or as opposed to another party,
according to the attitude of such party to the state,
and according to that party’s importance to the
well-being of the state. But he incurs the risk of
loading himself with the ugly appearance of being
partial when he does this in a manner not perfectly
warranted, and when his declaration of preference
can be attributed to his personal inclination toward
a party or to his personal aversion to the opposing
party. A premature declaration of preference will,
moreover, expose him to the danger of being com-
pelled to disavow himself if, contrary to his
expectation, the party hated or dreaded by him
should become so powerful that it could not be
refused the exercise of a decisive influence in the
government, or if the party which he had approved
or recommended at the elections had been rejected
by the electors, so that he would be finally com-
pelled to drop it. It is, accordingly, a political
principle with wise princes to avoid declaring for
or against any party in the state without the most
urgent motives. – This, however, does not apply
to the case of ministers, nor to any of the other
officers of the state, and just as little does it apply
to the government of a republic. Still, whenever
these latter act in their official capacity, they
should not act as mere party men, for the office is
essentially instinct with the spirit of the whole
State, and any official act is at the same time an
act of the state. But public law, with its powers
and duties, knows nothing of parties, the regular
law of the state is the common law fixed for all,
the law which imposes a limit to the agitation and
struggles of parties. The judge and the admin-
istrative officer should disregard all parties, and
not perform their duties with the view of helping:
or hindering any party. Parties play an impor-
tant rôle only when the stir of fresh, new life is
felt; in other words, when political life begins.
But the official duty of impartiality does not ex-
clude an official from sharing freely in political
life with those who are of the same mind with
himself, or from taking whatever side he prefers.
Unlike the prince, he is not the personification of
the whole. He is, on the one hand, as an official,
an Organ and a representative of the state; and on
the other hand, as a private individual invested
with all the political rights of a citizen, he enjoys
a position as to party by virtue of which he is en-
titled to seek his party fellows and to league him-
Self with them. The greatest statesmen of Rome
and England were always both impartial magis-
trates and acknowledged party leaders. Only, as
a matter of course, their political action should
be limited, conditioned and moderated by the in-
violability of the impartial position of the official.
As it is incumbent on the historian to be impartial,
that he should truthfully describe the condition
of all parties, and judge them with fairness, but
not that he should be a member of no party, or be
a purely passive mirror reflecting with indiffer-
ence the pictures of a nation’s life; so it is incum-
bent on the statesman and the Official, and in a
still higher degree, that they should be impartial,
but not that they should be non-party men. — For
these reasons a so-called government party does not
deserve the favor which it has frequently received
from the ruling powers. Every party, when its
leaders have been called into office, becomes, in a
certain sense, the government party, for a time at
least, and as long as its leaders remain in harmony
with the principles and tendencies of the party.
Yet, in such a case, the term government party
implies no party principle, but only indicates that
the party has actually attained to power and in-
fluence. The very same party, however, without
any change of principles or aims, may become a
party of opposition, when its leaders again lose
the chief offices of government, or when, remain-
ing in office, they adopt a tendency hostile to, or
when they eventually assume an unsatisfactory
attitude toward, the party to which they had
hitherto adhered. —But by the government party
is sometimes understood a party whose principle
PARTIES.
97
consists in adhering at all times to the government,
and in supporting the government, of whatever
persons it may consist and whatever tendency it
may follow; a party which adheres to the govern-
ment when the latter enacts reactionary measures,
and still stands by it when any reformatory change
of its system happens to take place. A govern-
ment party in this sense consists mostly of men
whose personal interests make them dependent
mainly on the good will of the government, and
who support it in the hope of emolument and
preferment through the favor of government,
while from its disfavor they have a motive to fear
for their positions or economical well-being. Un-
der certain circumstances a party of this kind
may prove useful to a government, because its
votes always possess a certain weight; but woe
to the government that in critical moments relies
on a government party of this kind, and seeks in
it its last and only support. As in such a party
there is no inward strength, it can give no sup-
port, and as it receives its impulses from the ex-
isting government, it must waver when that gov-
ernment itself is shaken; and as, above all, it is
always resolved to serve the ministers of the
government, who have, it may be, only recently
stepped into office, it prepares for a change when
there is any prospect of a change, and deserts the
banner of its old, defeated leaders, to follow the
fife and drum of the new victors. Such a party,
accordingly, enjoys no genuine respect, neither
that of the ministers, who use it, nor that of the
people, who expect nothing good from it. It
scarcely deserves the name of political party at
all, because it has no political convictions, and
no political aspirations. It is merely an append-
age to the ruling power, without moral worth
or political dignity. It is generally accessible to
and inclined to corruption, and usually ready to
bargain away its fidelity and its services. Such
a party, therefore, is unable to maintain itself in
a manly nation, with a highly developed politi-
cal party life; it is fated to be broken up and
thrust aside by other and genuine parties. Yet,
in the old monarchies of the European continent,
Such parties have still a certain importance, some-
times in connection with other old established
Court parties. – As a contrast to what is known
as the government party in this objectionable
Sense, we have what is known as the party of op-
position , but by this term we do not mean that
other no less objectionable party, whose vital
principle consists in opposition to the govern-
ment, and which does not combat the policy of
the government because it regards that policy as
unsound or its success as dangerous, but solely be-
cause it is the policy of the government. The
government party may be simply submissive, and
blindly devoted to the government; a party of op-
position such as we have here described, on the
Other hand, is to an excess obstinate and odious.
The former always tamely follows in the wake
of government, while the latter, at every step,
thwarts it by distrust and antagonism. Both,
126 VOL. III. — 7
accordingly, are unhealthy phenomena in the
public life of a people. At times such a party of
opposition may find favor with the people, just
as the government party does with the powerful.
But its negative qualities have only the appear-
ance of utility to the commonwealth or of care
for the interests of the people. The moving prin-
ciple in it is certainly not egotism, as in the gov-
ernment party, but obstinacy, defiant aggressive-
ness, obstruction to all political authority; in a
word, anarchy. It does not deserve the favor of
any nation, any more than a purely government
party deserves that of the government. . When,
between the years 1820 and 1830, the German
chambers witnessed such opposition parties at
work by the side of government parties, and
courting popular favor, it was only the sign of a
still unripe and sickly political life, for then the
belief was still widely spread among the people,
that only the man who opposed the government,
and only as long as he opposed it, could be a
patriot, and would devote himself heart and soul
to the people. From the mere possibility of so
dangerous an error, we may readily infer the
existing moral rottenness of those governments.
— After this brief explanation, we may define
political parties as follows: They are the free,
social groups within the state, held together for
common action by the ties of the same or closely
related fundamental political principles, ideas and
aspirations. – II. Political Parties and Factions.
We distinguish parties from factions. Factions
are but the caricature of parties. Parties are
necessary to the life of the state, and in so far
useful; factions are unnecessary and always inju-
rious. In healthy political life parties must be
developed, while factions gain in power under
unhealthy conditions. Real development is pro-
moted by parties; corruption and the decay of
states show the effects of faction. — On what
does this distinction depend? Language here is
not as safe and steadfast in its distinguishing
powers as science would wish. We speak prop-
erly of a political party, when that party repre-
sents a political principle, or pursues a political
tendency; political, that is, compatible with the
existence of the state, and directed to the well-
being of society. A political party may, indeed,
exhibit great defects of character; it may employ
wrong means, and pursue foolish aims. But it
should never attack the existence of the state,
or consciously pursue tendencies injurious to
it. When it does this, it debases itself into
a faction. Factions never serve the state; they
are above all mindful of self; they pursue ego-
tistic, and not political, aims. In the conflict
between the well-being of the state and private
interests, they unhesitatingly prefer the latter and
sacrifice the former. — A faction can not easily
rise to the noble position of a political party,
although this may not altogether be impossible;
but a political party may easily degenerate into
a faction. As soon as self-seeking has become .
its ruling passion throughout all its actions, as
98
PARTIES.
soon as it becomes heedless of its duties toward
the country, and refuses to acknowledge its sub-
mission to the whole, it has entered the paths
of faction, and we must deny it the honor-
able name of a political party. As every man
is at the same time an individual apart, and
a member of a community, of his nation, and,
finally, of humanity, so also the various social
groups possess this same kind of dualistic exist-
ence. They are associations with particular in-
terests, and they are also parts of a larger whole.
Political parties are animated and determined by
this commonspirit, although their egotistic self-love
and party interest never become wholly extinct.
Factions, on the contrary, are associations in which
this self-seeking side has grown so powerful that
it aims at subjecting to it the public well-being,
and to sacrifice the state to its particular interests;
although, as a matter of fact, even in factions the
public well-being is seldom completely lost sight
of. The contrast between a political party and a
faction is, therefore, of a nature such that it man-
ifestly suggests a certain affinity between them.
They only follow opposite currents. Accordingly,
as public spirit or private interest prevails in either
of these groups of men, it may at one time be a
political party, and at another a faction. When a
party holds its meetings, chooses its leaders, comes
to an agreement and passes resolutions; when it
founds and supports organs to give expression to
its opinions, and combats its adversaries; or when
any individual member of the party,’ as far as is
possible without violating higher duties, submits
his individual opinion and inclination to his party,
and follows the leaders of his party as soldiers fol-
low their general: in all this there is nothing that
can be called factious. If the party is to possess
power and influence, it must organize itself, and
display its activity in public life, at elections and
in deliberative councils, as a closely compact body.
But when party zeal and party passion preponder-
ate to such a point as to prefer to tear the country
to pieces rather than join hands for the sake of
the common weal; when one party, upon gaining
power, directs public affairs as a party govern-
ment, using its power in the oppression and perse-
cution of all who profess different opinions; when
parties league themselves with the enemies of the
state, and deliver the country over to their power:
all proceedings of this kind exclude the true idea
of a political party, and faction has usurped its
place. —III. Names and Kºnds of Parties. Differ-
ent names do not always indicate different kinds of
parties, and the names as well as the objects con-
cerning which parties contend may frequently be
simply accidental. People may quarreland divide
themselves into parties about a garter, or the shape
of a hat; and in the case of more than one histor-
ical party division it is difficult to tell what was
the cause that divided the nation. Even a mere
whim, or difference of taste, the partiality to green
or red, or vice versa, has parted Society into hos-
tile groups. Yet parties, in the earnest conscious-
ness of their differences, often select Colors Only
as party symbols, and in such case become known
by their colors, as, for instance, the green and blue
parties in the old Byzantine empire, the red and
white rose in mediaeval England, and the red
(ultra-revolutionary) and black (clerical) parties of
modern times. Parties in general, and factions
still more so, love to distinguish themselves from
each other and from the indifferent multitude by
symbolical badges. Hence, they have their ban-
ners, cockades, colored caps, ribbons, and their
peculiar costumes. – The more futile the causes
that separate parties, or the less any political prin-
ciples and aims determine their formation, the
less also can they be called political parties in the
proper sense of the term, and the more readily
will such associations degenerate into factions.
Political science does not concern itself with these
non-political parties; and just as little can it pay
any attention to purely accidental parties. Al-
though at times they may assert their influence
On practical politics, political science is unable to
fix them, because they are not determined by
political principles. On the other hand, the fol-
lowing kinds of parties deserve mention : 1.
Religio-political parties. Denominational parties,
as such, do not belong to these; but, when start-
ing from different religious or ecclesiastical opin-
ions or tendencies, they divide politically, and
seek to influence the life of the state, they in a
certain respect become political parties. This
species of party division in the middle ages, as,
for instance, that between Christians and Moham-
medans, had a decided influence on public life,
and this party division is even still sufficiently
felt. Even in modern European parliaments we
still hear of catholic and orthodox Lutheran par-
ties, of ultramontanes and pºetists. But these are
spurious kinds of party, and, therefore, wherever
political life is developed, they are banished from
the arena of political parties to their own sphere,
to wit, the domain of religious and ecclesiastical
life. As the cause of the formation of this kind
of parties has nothing to do with the state, and as
their aims are not political, it must always be con-
sidered an abuse, when, in the modern state, they
demean themselves as political parties. Religion
seldom gains by such demeanor on its part, and
politics is always injured by them.—2. Parties
may also, in a temporal, but not purely political
sense, be divided according to nations, which,
however, does not by any means constitute a nor-
mal division (such as Neo-Latins and Germans in
the ancient German-Roman states, English, Scots
and Irish in Great Britain, and Germans and
Czecks in Bohemia; or according to tribes, as
Franks, Old-Bavarians, in Bavaria; or according
to the social order, as patricians, plebeians, clergy
and nobility, nobility and bourgeoisie). Nations,
tribes and estates, such as the third estate, possess
in fact an importance which is not exclusively
political, but above all civil and social. They
also form firmly established wholes, and would
form a too solid basis for political parties, which
must never cease to feel themselves parts sub-
PARTIES.
99
ordinate to the state. When, accordingly, parties
are based upon nationalities, or when they are
divided into tribes, there is danger that they may
destroy the unity of the state. But if the unity of
the state is to be preserved, the parties in the state
should cross and unite the different nations, tribes
and estates that exist within the political body,
thus welding the parts into unity. When parties
and estates are coincident this danger is not so
great, for the estates know that they are only a
part of the people, and that they can not form a
state of themselves alone. Yet even here, party
differences, allied with such mighty constituents
of the state organism, differences thus powerful,
lasting and bold, may by such alliance seriously
threaten the internal peace of the state and public
order. —3. In the middle ages parties had still,
for the most part, either a religious, national or
an estate character. It is a sign of political prog-
ress when parties begin to divide according to
definite constitutional principles, for then political
ideas, and not merely the tradition of a race or of
a particular class or calling, begin to unite those
together who are of the same mind, and to sepa-
rate them from their opponents. Parties of this
nature are aristocrats and democrats, royalists
and republicans, constitutionalists and feudalists,
unionists and federalists, nationalists and particu-
larists, etc. Sometimes these parties continue to
rest in part upon a difference of estate or class :
thus, the aristocratic and feudal party in Europe
usually derives its main support from the nobility,
the constitutional party from the third estate, and
the democrats from the lower classes. But they
are no longer confined within the narrow limits of
an estate ; the political opinion of one class or
estate invades the others, and draws toward it
those who are of the same way of thinking. —
Yet these are only transitory political parties,
which happen to arise during constitutional strug-
gles for the transformation of the existing consti-
tution, and which disappear when that struggle
has been brought to a close and a new constitu-
tion is introduced and generally acknowledged.
The task of the constitution consists in realizing
and giving effect to its principles, and there is
after this no need of constitutional parties, be-
cause all views that could possibly claim any polit-
ical importance are supposed to have found their
expression in the organs of the constitutional sys-
tem itself, as for instance, the aristocratic elements
in an upper house, and the constitutional and dem-
ocratic elements in a lower house. Such political
parties, accordingly, work toward their own de-
struction, because they invariably perish after ob-
taining the victory; they desire to die as political
parties, that they may rise again as political pow-
ers; they desire to become members of the body
politic itself. Hence, their principles are not party
principles, but constitutional principles.—4. The
highest and purest form of political parties is in-
contestably that of those which are determined
by exclusively political and not religious or social
-contrasts or differences, and which at the same
time permanently accompany the public life. —
Wachsmuth, in his Geschächte der politischen Par-
teiungen, 1832, advanced the opinion that, “in the
history of the human race it must be accepted as
a fundamental law of the universe, that, on the
whole, there certainly is a progress toward the bet-
ter, but it must also be admitted that the history
of political parties has no share in that prog-
ress. Whether good or bad, such as they were
from time out of mind, they remain to this very
day.” I also believe that a “progress toward the
better” is perceptible in the history of political
parties; although what is fundamental in human
nature, on which parties depend, has remained the
same, and when human passions have Once been
aroused, the man of to-day is as far from being
exempt from the risk of relapsing into extreme
brutality and barbarity as was the man of a thou-
sand or two thousand years ago. The French
nation in the eighteenth century claimed to stand
at the head of European civilization, and yet this
did not save it from the horrors of the reign of
terror during the French revolution. Yet as in
war, so also have the contentions of parties be-
come, on the whole, less cruel and brutal. In
spite of all the horrors that still disgrace our age,
civilization has at least somewhat moderated the
savage hatred of parties. – Yet I regard these as
most manifest symptoms of improvement: that an
ever higher form of party seems to have replaced
the old one, that parties by degrees have laid aside
other differences belonging to the domain of na-
ture and social culture, and that they are more
and more determined by purely political princi-
ples. The contrasts and differences of liberals
and conservatives, of radicals and absolutists, are
purely political, pervade all classes of the popula-
tion, and are in every instance determined by dif-
ferent fundamental political ideas. These par-
ties, and parties of this nature, although they
often bear different names, are markedly the
fruit of the political culture of modern times. –
IV. Rohmer's Doctrine of Parties. Friedrich Roh-
mer's doctrine of parties, which was first an-
nounced theoretically and put into practice in 1842,
during the party contest in Zürich, was in 1844
expounded by Rohmer in a work, the thoughtful
contents and splendor of style of which were ac-
knowledged even by its bitterest enemies. Roh-
mer’s work has unquestionably exercised a great
influence in the elucidation of political ideas ;
many of the thoughts which it contains have since
become the common property of men of polit-
ical culture throughout Europe, and many of its
sentences have been plagiarized by well-known
writers. Yet the effect of the book was below
what might have been expected from the high
merits of its principles and style of exposition.
There was an obstacle in the way of the unpreju-
diced examination and acceptance of the new.
doctrine of parties, in the suspicion, entertained
by a large portion of the party of progress, that
the book was not the exposition of a scientific. . .
conviction, but a party document, written to di:. .
100
PARTIES.
vide the party of progress by an artificial and
skillfully contrived confusion of ideas, to hum-
ble the radicals, and to support the power of the
Swiss liberal conservatives. This suspicion was
wholly unfounded; his doctrine is, on the whole,
rather a necessary consequence of Rohmer’s
psychological views, and it is decidedly favorable
to the formation of liberal states. On the other
hand, it must be admitted that the circumstances
under which the doctrine originated might have
Suggested a suspicion of this kind, and that at the
first formulation of the doctrine the passionate
party struggles in which the author was involved,
in certain particular points, may have exerted
an unfavorable influence in some places. A no
Smaller hindrance than this wrong suspicion lay
in the as yet undeveloped condition of political
party life in Germany, people being still unaccus-
tomed there to look at the political spirit from
a psychological point of view. If the book had
been written in 1849 instead of in 1844, it would
have been more easily intelligible to the bulk of
the German nation. — The fundamental idea of
the doctrine is this: “As the state must be under-
stood in the light of human nature and receive its
explanation from the facts of human nature, so
also must political parties in their natural causes
be explained by the facts of human life. To under-
stand the state as a political body, I must first
understand the elements of the human mind: to
understand the life of the state, I must investi-
gate the laws of its development.” (§ 17.) “This
development manifests itself in the age stages of
the life of man. The development of the state
itself constitutes its history; but parties are the
independent groupings of the different age stages
of human life, by themselves and side by side
with each other.” (§ 217.) “As we distinguish
four stages in the life of man—the boy, the young
man (adolescens), the tried man (juvenis), and the
old man (semea)—so may we distinguish four fun-
damental types of party. At the height of virile
life stand the young man and the tried man.
In these the active powers of mind hold the su-
premacy; in the former the generative and cre-
ative forces of character tand mind, and in he
latter the preserving and purifying forces. Lib-
eral principles accord with the mind of the
young man, and conservative principles commend
themselves to the mind of the tried man. In boy-
hood and in old age, on the contrary, the passive
forces of mind are found in the foreground, in
the boy in an ascending, but in the old man in a
descending, direction. The boy has a vivid intui-
tive power and imagination, and a sensitive heart,
but creative energy is still undeveloped in him.
The old man has, in common with woman, sus-
ceptibility and impressionableness of nature, dex-
terity in action, certainty and coolness in calcu-
lation, rapidity and clearness of comprehension.
The boy is a radical; the old man, absolute. — As
in the organic course of nature every man passes
. . through the different age stages, and experiences
. this change of strength and of impulse, so also
does nature impress on individuals, irrespective
of their age, as individuals, this diversity of the
leading and determining forces of mind. There
are men who as individuals are born boys, and
who remain boys in mind and character through
life. Others have as individuals youthful natures,
others are endowed with the spirit and character
of the tried man, while still others are as individ-
uals old from childhood. Thus, Pericles was of
a youthful nature, Caesar naturally a man, Alci-
biades a boy, and Augustus by nature an old
man. Most men in their individual nature are
not complete and well balanced, but mixed and
defective. Many, for instance, are boyish or old
at heart, but manly in spirit; or old in mind, but
young at heart. As regards politics, mind is the
decisive element. The mass of men do not indi-
vidually belong to the higher stages. There are
but few really liberal or truly conservative indi-
viduals. The bulk of men are by nature born
old or boyish.” (§ 35.) “That is, only in few
men, considered as individuals, is the reason
that discerns and regulates, or the creative power
of speech, the prevailing power of the mind; most
men have certainly a sensitive or receptive mind,
are eager to learn, have rather a passive than an
active mind, with the mental constitution of boys
or older people. Parties, accordingly, are not to
be compared with the age stages themselves. The
differences of their inclinations and faculties are
rather traceable to the natural difference of indi-
vidual disposition, in which the difference of the
age stages is permanently stamped and expressed.
And because parties thus have their foundation
in human nature, they also all have a natural
right. Some correspond to the higher, and others
to the lower, development of life; and from this
correspondence their natural order and sub-order
result. Their explanation is their judgment.
Only the manly parties, the liberals and conserva-
tives, are called to the government of the state,
but not the two extreme parties, the radicals and
absolutists. Their doctrine combats the illusion
that radicalism should be considered as the only
resolute and logical form of liberalism, as also
the supposition that conservatism, in its highest
power, becomes absolutism. Their doctrine in-
sists, rather, on the distinction between the two
parties in the ascending line of development,
boyish radicalism, and youthful, manly liberalism,
and between the two parties, in the descending line
of development, conservatism and absolutism ;
and it demands the subordination of radicals to
liberals, of absolutists to conservatives. Only
when liberals and Conservatives are at the helm
does mind prevail over matter, and force of
character over excitability. The struggles of
parties are the following: of liberalism against
conservatism, e.g., plebeians and patricians in the
palmy days of Rome; of radicalism against liber-
alism, e.g., the English radicals against the Whigs;
of absolutism against Conservatism, e. g., Carlists
and moderantists in Spain, high tories and mod-
erates in England; of conservatism against radi-
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101
calism, e. g., the European struggle of the tories
under Pitt against the French revolution; of lib-
eralism against absolutism, e. g., Luther against
the popes of his time, and O’Connell against
Orangemen; of radicalism against absolutism, e.g.,
the struggle of the French revolution against the
monarchies of the last century.” (§ 16.)—The
alliances of parties are also manifold. The most
dangerous to the healthy life of the state is the
alliance of both the extreme parties, of radicals
and absolutists. The alliance of liberals and con-
servatives is the most favorable to its normal de-
velopment. If the development of the state re-
quires new institutions, the liberals naturally step
to the front, and the alliance will be a conservative
liberal one; if there be question of preserving the
threatened order of things, the conservative ele-
ment must needs preponderate, and the alliance
assumes a liberal conservative character. —When
Rohmer's doctrine of parties first originated at
Zürich in 1842, the preservation of the existing
order of things seems to have been the task on
hand; a liberal conservative policy was proclaim-
ed, and the attempt was made to found a liberal
conservative party. Ideas were at that time ex-
pressed with great distinctness and clearness, and
these ideas had an influence that can not be de-
nied. But the first attempt at the formation of a
party was made under very unfavorable condi-
tions, and attained only an incomplete develop-
ment. The liberal elements chanced to be too
weakly represented, and the young party was
unable to keep pace with the stronger movement
of the epoch, in which liberal and radical elements
had become indissolubly mingled together. Its
principle, however, was able to tide over the rev-
olution, and thus passed to a part of its former
adversaries, but the party itself, which first had
recognized that principle, was dissolved. While
Germany at first took but little notice of it, Eng-
lish and French statesmen, on the contrary, took
up the principle, yet without altogether under-
standing the full depth of its significance; they
were, moreover, affected by the same false tend-
ency from which the Swiss liberal conservative
party had suffered. Guizot attempted to found
in France a liberal conservative party, but he
ignored the liberal aspirations of the times, and
insisted in a doctrinarian manner on preserving
the untenable. In England, however, Sir Robert
Peel was more fortunate in organizing a liberal
conservative policy. Since that time, however,
this idea has entered into the party movements
of almost all continental states, and without it
modern party contentions can nowhere be rightly
understood. If the differences of political parties
depend on the difference of natural individual
disposition, the necessity of parties, and, further
still, their legitimateness, follows as a consequence;
for anything that has the roots of its existence in
nature, has a right to have its existence respected.
All laws and public measures, accordingly, that
aim at the control of parties, or at the suppression
“Of particular, even of extreme, parties, violate the
natural law of creation, which has produced this
multiplicity, and which, even through the conflict
of differences, creates the highest phenomena of
human life. — The choice of a definite party,
accordingly, is only in a secondary sense the work
of personal insight, and of free will; for every
individual in the first place feels the impulse and
attraction of nature. The man who is by nature
a radical will feel himself drawn toward the rad-
ical party. The man who is naturally old will
be drawn rather toward the party of absolutists.
But, as in all human things, the force of natural
instinct is not endowed with an absolutely com-
pulsory power, man possesses a power of mind
and character over himself; he is able to overcome
his own impulses, when he believes them to be
foolish or injurious. Other motives and interests
modify the differences which distinguish the nat-
ural individual disposition, and sometimes im-
pel those who are naturally radical to submit to
the direction of the conservatives, or drive them
into the camp of the absolutists. Education, with
the power of ideas and habits which it gives, has
frequently the most decided influence on the
choice of a party. Experience and study may
also induce an individual to profess different prin-
ciples and tendencies, and hence to adhere to a
party different from that which we should have
expected, from his individual nature, he would
ally himself to. — Nature herself has taken care
that the dangerous one-sidedness of parties should
not completely isolate men from one another, by
compelling every individual man in his lifetime
to pass through all the different age stages, and
thus to experience in himself and in his own near
kindred and acquaintances the nature of other
parties than the party to which he belongs by his
own individual nature. Any attentive and think-
ing man will hence judge more broadly and fairly
of others when he has an eye to the many-sided
teachings of nature. Nature has a healing remedy
for the arrogance of extreme parties, and gives a
warning to individuals to join rather the more
manly central parties; and it directs all parties
always to submit to the whole by manifesting, as
in the organization of the human body, complete
human nature, and all the faculties of the Soul in
the proper relation of order and subordination.
It hardly needs to be recalled to mind, that the
following characteristics of the four parties are
merely typical. Real life scarcely ever expresses
altogether completely and purely the typical, fun-
damental idea, but only approaches it more or
less closely. But when science in grand outlines
sketches the natural types, it in so doing eluci-
dates and arranges the otherwise unfathomable,
chaotic variety of phenomena. — 1. Radicalism.
Radicalism is illustrated and explained by the
nature of the boy. Although the delineation is
made with great skill, and is true in the main,
the picture is not free from a certain exaggeration,
or from polemical bitterness, which can be ex-
plained only by the time in which it was drawn.
Hence its dark sides have manifestly been painted
102
PARTIES.
With greater relish and more nervous strokes than
its bright sides. The author, Theodore Rohmer,
in his later years himself admitted this. – He in-
troduces his description by a reference to “the
spirit of contradiction, which begins to stir within
every man, after the development of conscious-
ness. This spirit, this opposition for the sake of
opposition, in faith, science, church and state, is
the main trait of radicalism.” (§ 45.) “Radical-
ism is very well adapted to oppose when, from
the sphere of an inferior criticism, it pursues the
sins of absolutism, when it hastens the march of
conservatism, and clears the road for liberalism;
ever blaming, hurrying, agitating, but incapable
of ruling; productive of misfortune and of terrible
disturbances as soon as it seizes the reins of gov-
ernment. Hence, it is a frequent occurrence in
parliamentary states, that the most brilliant lead-
ers of the opposition betray a complete incapacity
when they are called into power. Government
and childhood exclude each other.” (§§50–52.)—
“The mobility of the boy is unbounded. Quiet,
rest and self-containment are impossible to him.
He loves change and variety to a passionate de-
gree, and his ardent nature is continually in search
of novelty. To this must be added his unhealthy
longing to become a grown man. He sees the
adult people around him, and his most powerful
wish is to be like them. He imitates them, and
plays the man. “Novelty and progress’ are the
watch-words of radicalism. But ‘novelty’ is not
reform; it proceeds from the impulse to change,
and, like the latter, it is variable in itself; and
‘progress’ is only the impulse toward progress.
He wants to reap before he has well sown; he is
given to excess, as was the French revolution, or
he is compelled to give himself up, as Joseph II.
had to give himself up. Radicalism borrows from
liberalism, and imitates it. Radicalism everywhere
in Europe, through organic self-deception, regards
*tself as liberalism.” (§ 46.)—“If the boy were
not altogether by nature incapable of ruling, and
relegated to obedience, he certainly would be thus
incapable and relegated to a very high degree by
his complete lack of experience. Experience can
not be learned, but must be acquired in the school
of life. The inability to learn from experience
accompanies boyish natures through life. It was
precisely this inability which so deeply embittered
Napoleon against the radical ideologists, and for
very good reason. So destitute of meaning and
experience is radicalism. When Cola Rienzi be-
lieved that he could resuscitate the power of Rome
by means of the mere name of the tribunate, and
the forms of ancient Rome; or when the German
Burschenschaft thought to restore the spirit of
the empire by restoring the title of German em-
pire, they dreamt like inexperienced boys. If
Joseph II. in Austria, Pombal in Portugal, and
Struensee in Denmark, had taken counsel of ex-
perience, they would have understood that it is
impossible by any number of decrees to suddenly
extirpate the deeply rooted past.” (§§ 53, 54.)—
“As the boy is complete neither in his mind, which
is in process of development, nor in his sensitive
faculties, which can be ripened only through life,
it follows that he must learn. To learn is not to.
know, but only a preparation for knowledge. But
the boy, although desirous of learning, at every
step which he takes in learning from others, be-
lieves himself to be in possession of real knowl-
edge. On the other hand, we all know how diffi-
cult it is to overcome the aversion of a boy for
methodical learning. His wild disposition carries.
him away from it, while his instinct demands.
culture and Schooling; between the two he re-
mains in a wavering state. In this manner radi-
calism has ever displayed either barbaric ignorance
or an exaggerated craving for formal culture,
Schooling and enlightenment. Rousseau, the fa-
ther of modern radicalism, instead of culture wished
to see men in the rude state of nature; our mod-
ern radicals, radical in their demand for culture,
Cry loudly for education and popular culture as
only boys cry for schooling.” (§§ 56, 57.)—“The
powers of the boy are naturally adapted to men-
tal appropriation. His susceptibility is marvel-
Ous, his imagination indefatigable ; but reason,
will-power and all deeper insight are absent. The
boy, in a word, is brimful of talent, not of mind.
Talent is the characteristic mark of radicals;
but talent has no standing in any court for depth.
of intellect. History affords us a very powerful
example of this truth. In the three parliaments of
the French revolution, in the constituent assembly,
in the legislative assembly and convention, there
was a galaxy of men of talent, partly of the most
remarkable kind, and of such variety and num-
ber combined as the world had but seldom wit-
nessed. The names, which at that time followed
one another in rapid succession on the scene, still
remain the pride of the French nation. And what
became of all these men of talent, when a great
spirit, when Napoleon, put in his appearance? It
seemed as if the one great mind alone sufficed to
fill the vast field which a hundred men of tal-
ent had divided among themselves. How even
the most renowned among them shrank into in-
significance before Napoleon: men like Sieyes,
Talleyrand, Cambaceres, and even Carnot Yet
Mirabeau maintained himself; in the midst of all
these radical men of talent he was the only intel-
lect.” (§§ 59, 60.)—“The boy, like the poet, lives
in a world of ideals; he knows the real world only
in miniature, and even in miniature he has no
thorough knowledge of it. It is perfectly natural
that he should build himself a world of poetical
and fantastic day-dreams, of castles in the air.
Radicalism has also created a world of ideals; it,
too, is clothed with a charm which has misled
whole nations. A world, full of freedom, happi-
ness and bliss; a world, in which all men embrace
one another, and live together like brothers, in
which everlasting peace reigns, and in which an
everlasting community of all spiritual and cor-
poreal possessions obtains: a world of this kind,
such as was proclaimed by the religious visiona-
ries of the middle ages, and by the political dream-
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103
ers of the nineteenth century—how charming it al-
ways appears to the Senses and to the heart, in
spite of the fact that experience and reason have
so often told us that it crumbles away in the pres-
ence of reality. The attempts of radical world-
improvers belong as little to real politics as poetry
itself belongs to politics; but for life they possess
a truth similar to that of poetry. In fact, what
happiness the boy dreams of as in store for him
in his manhood; of the freedom that he will One
day enjoy, and the pleasure of a thousand circum-
stances in life! If he reaches manhood, and if
fate favors him, he certainly may find happiness
and freedom, yet it will be a kind different from
what he had dreamed of; he will then smile at
the dreams of his boyhood, and instead of these
he will try to enjoy the sober reality of the pres-
ent.” (§§ 63, 64.)—“The boy’s understanding
leads him to the formal branches of knowledge.
Even his imagination, when he applies it to sci-
entific questions, guides him into the field of ab-
straction. All radicalism is at all times formal,
mathematical and abstract, when it invades the
domain of manhood. Its culture and legislation are
full of formalism; its conception of life and history
are abstract; the radical state is mechanical with-
out a suspicion even of organism; it is constructed,
as Aristotle expresses it, xaz’ &pzSAuðv, instead
of torr' d'étav, for it adds, subtracts, compounds
and distributes men and affairs as if they were
only arithmetical quantities.” (§§ 65, 66.) —
“Culture and education, as means substitutive of
nature, are the one great idea which has become
with modern radicals the most predominant idio-
syncrasy. That idea proceeds from the boy’s ca-
pacity for education. The boy sees in education
a substitute for innate gifts, and even considers it
the creator of individual nature. He believes that
education can make fools clever, and the stupid
intelligent; that it is in the power of education to
make all men equally learned, equally intelligent;
that through the same means of education all
classes can be raised to the same height, and that
the crowd can be extirpated forever. Of all rad-
ical ideas, none has been more widely spread in
Germany than this, and partly for the reason that
the Germans, of all nations, are endowed with
great capacity for comprehensive and genuine
culture, and because they love education even too
much not to easily over-estimate it. Instead of
adapting culture to different natures, character is
indiscriminately made to adapt itself to one and
the same form of education. Happy age, when
all Germans shall be educated and geistreich.
Stupidity, which hitherto, at times, has been
modestly silent, would then reign supreme, while
mediocrity has already begun to rule in con-
sequence of that very idiosyncrasy.” (§ 71.)—
“As in the case of women, the boy only knows
one reason for everything. The understanding,
which is not as yet developed in the boy, super-
ordinates and subordinates intuition, which he
possesses, and conceives objects, notwithstand-
ing their variety, as a complete and undivided
whole. How radicalism everywhere, both in the
material and the intellectual spheres, is urged by the
impulse toward “leveling,’ needs no further ex-
amples. – The boy moves with originality on the
field of speculation. Man, in childhood, indulges
in a number of questions, which he is unable to
answer as a man. He thinks about the origin of
the world, about the reasons of being. But he
does not investigate for the sake of a higher pur-
pose, but merely because investigation is a pleasure
to him. Abstraction, as abstraction merely, satis-
fies him. The two characteristic marks of all
radical speculation are: an ideally mingling the
reason of the world’s existence with the world
itself (pantheism); practically, the supremacy of
abstraction over life.” (§ 74.)—“Radicalism,
like childhood, is good and rich in blessings,
and when in its right place its effects are un-
equaled; but it degenerates and becomes worth-
less when it swerves from the right path, and
when placed at the helm becomes a prey to de-
moniacal powers. From what evils it frees us,
from what abuses, from what an oppressive load
it unburdens Europe, by its ever-living, stimulat-
ing power and active foresight; how much of evil
it does away with, how much of what is useless
it removes, and how much of what is new it has
encouraged—all this is well known in recent
times. If it had been able to keep within the
bounds of the opposition, if it had surrendered
the direction of affairs to liberalism, instead of
thwarting it, its effects would surely have been a
blessing. The country may be considered fortu-
nate in which radicalism keeps up an opposition
without encroaching in public affairs, but keeps
its energetic action within the bounds of modesty.
Woe to the country in which it rules supreme.
Waste of mind and emptiness of heart, the ruin
of the past and the decay in the present, are the
signs that accompany it.” (§ 77.) — “The boy
believes that he shows courage when he displays
only impudence, and energy when he makes a
manifestation of obstinacy. He indeed possesses
courage to do many things which the grown man
can not attain to, because to such courage belongs
a barbaric recklessness toward all existing rights,
relations and institutions, or an unparalleled degree
of levity. Yet these are precisely the qualities by
which radicalism has been able to impart an occa-
sional bold forward movement to the wheels of
history, which in certain cases it would have been
beyond the power of even the most advanced lib-
eralism to impart. They are also the qualities of
which Providence frequently avails itself for the
attainment of its designs. Radicalism not only
vents itself against old institutions, when they have
become rotten; it attacks the past and pulls down
everything with relish; the radicalism of the better
kind does this, because it carries within it the
organic delusion that it can create a new world
from the wreck of the old, and the worse kind of
radicalism, because it is impelled thereto by its
love of destruction. A tabula rasa is what both
want.” (§ 85.)—“Although far from cruel, the
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PARTIES.
boy commits many cruel acts. His anger when
irritated, his revengefulness when offended, his
fury when controlled, are simply barbaric. But
he nevertheless combines all this with a tenderness,
or rather a weakness, of feeling, which easily
passes into pusillanimity and exaggeration. The
source of these opposite qualities is sentimentality,
which is as cruel as it is easily aroused, as easily
inclined to evil as it is capable of good. This sen-
timentality consists in an excessive degree of Sen-
sitiveness.” (§ 87.)— “By nature the boy has
only an abstract sensual conception of the world.
He is able to conceive only unity or multiplicity;
and these opposites coexist in him as unreconciled
with one another as were Judaism and Greek
polytheism in the ancient world.” (§ 88.)—“Ab-
straction makes things equal. Thus, the boy
looks upon men as equal except in as far as they
do not exist outside his own sphere. Boys among
themselves are democrats. Their whole mind
and heart demand equality. Take a school of
thirty or forty boys the moment before the teacher
enters. An absolute freedom and equality prevail
among them. The instant the teacher appears, all
are just as equal in obedience as they were before
in anarchy. Boys are fit only for a democratic or
a despotic government. To the boyfreedom means
only following his caprice, and doing what he
pleases. His idea of equality is, that nobody
should be allowed to enjoy higher privileges than
himself. What has been said describes, as we
believe, sufficiently the main traits of radicalism,
considered as the submission of the organic life of
man to the unlimited power of abstraction.”
(§ 92.)—2. Liberalism. Liberalism is the repre-
sentation of the young man. “The youth enters
into the world free. He is no longer hampered
by discipline; life and fate henceforth educate
him. His first act is to examine the ground on
which he stands, the inner and the outer world.
His criticism spares nothing; he is bold enough to
doubt everything; yet not merely for the sake of
doubting. He doubts, in order by his own power
to attain to truth. He seeks, in order to find.
Intellectual and moral criticism is a main trait of
all liberalism. But there is no trace in liberalism
of the opposition which is made by the man
who is not free. If I were to draw an historical
picture of the character of liberalism, and point
out wherein it differs from radicalism, I should
recall the life of Luther in the religious sphere,
and Lessing's labors in the scientific world.”
(§§ 93, 94.)—“The young man is man in his
highest bloom. Replete with life and movement,
and at the same time full of sense and conscious-
ness; his mind developed in every direction, at
the height of creative power, high-minded and
energetic, still undisturbed about fate; the entire
man in the fullness of all his impulses, ardently
desirous of the future, and yet even now master
of the present, unhindered by obstacles, inventive
of plans, full of sense in the choice of means, and
of genius in execution; a constitution of this kind,
or none, is adapted to reform, or rather, born to
create and organize, just as the boy is fitted for
revolution.” (§ 95.)— “Because it alone unites
activity with genuine strength, liberalism is the
formative principle of all existence, in science and
in faith, in the church and in the state; and only
that which contains within itself creative germs
with a positive core, deserves the name of liberal.
Everywhere, under all conditions, and even where
it carries destruction before it, liberalism acts as
an organizing power, and where it does not
directly distribute blessing it is infusive of new
life. In German history we have a refreshing
picture of an organizing liberal in King Henry I.”
($ 96.) – “The opinions of the young man are full
of ardor, his assertions are full of acuteness, but
he is naturally too modest and too humane not
to honor all outside aspirations if nobly harbored.
Where the boy is exclusive in his opinions the
young man investigates, and where the former is
narrow-minded the latter preserves his intellectual
sight free and undimmed. He is free from preju-
dice, and takes things as they are; and this free-
dom is the mother of the highest kind of toleration,
a toleration, however, which never ignobly vacil-
lates between what is good and what is evil, or
which meanly wavers between opposite tendencies,
but honors what is worthy of honor, even in its bit-
terest enemy, and from its own steady point of view
judges, with impartiality, the points of view of
others.” (§ 97.)— “As independence is the nerve
of manhood, it follows that the man can never
find the reasons of his actions in authority; he
can find them only in the truth which authority
can lay before him. A liberal government will
never pay homage to public opinion as such, nor
to the spirit of the age, the Zeitgeist as such; yet
it will always respect the spirit of the age, combat
its falsities, and take its truths to heart. A liberal
opposition will never despise the authority of the
throne, nor accept any proposal merely because it
comes from the throne, nor, like the radicals, re-
ject it only because it emanates from the throne.”
(§ 109.)— “The age period of the young man is
the highest expression of man. The mightiest
ideas and passions, the highest power of his intel-
lect, the richest fullness of his sensitive faculties,
and his most perfect bodily development, belong
to this age. In this age stage man becomes man
complete. In this sense liberalism is humane, it
and humanity become one. The greatest and
only perfect liberal known to history is Christ.
And through what did Christ exert his most pow-
erful influence, and so powerfully that no one
among us who knows anything of his individu-
ality can well help loving and revering him? Why
has his image been stamped so deeply on the heart
of humanity? Not because of the sublimity of
his mind, or simply because of the miracles of his
life alone; not because of the supernatural in his
nature, but because of his humanity.” ($100)—“If
it be true that liberalism expresses human nature in
that which is most peculiar to it, then of the four
parties referred to above, supremacy belongs to
it; for only man should rule over men. But as
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105
nature tarries long and in a thousand ways in its
lower phases; and as it only seldom, and but for
a short time, gives us glimpses of its summits;
thus also liberalism, in all nations, has ruled Only
during their most flourishing epochs, and only for
a short period.” (§ 102.) — “The education of
the young man is the school of life. His teach-
ing goes to the root of things. His culture is
the development of pure humanity in its widest
sense. Where radicalism only looks at School-
ing, liberalism looks at the nature of man; the
one has an eye only to what has been learned,
the other to what is inborn; the former gives us
only state-servants, the latter statesmen. To lib-
eralism also the teaching of the people is sacred.
It desires that every one should be brought up a
II].8.1).
the highest stages to the lower ones, it aims at an
organization of public instruction that may afford
the possibility of the highest culture to any one
capable of receiving it, even those of the low-
est classes, yet without over-educating them.”
(§§ 102, 103.) – “The direct, fresh-springing crea-
tive power that distinguishes the young man, as
compared with the talent of the boy, and the cal-
culating wisdom of advanced age, is called genius.
Genius knows, where talent only learns; it creates,
where talent plays; and thinks where the latter
dreams. The true man knows himself, and carries
his measure within him. To know himself is the
fundamental condition, and to measure accurately
the highest quality of genius. The boy overrates
his own powers, and allows them to disport them-
selves without control; the man knows them, and
uses them with circumspection. Radicalism, in
its policy and in the administration of the state,
herein acts like the boy; liberalism, like the man.
When liberalism is at the helm, all the parts of
the state are called into activity proportionately
to their importance, but none are overrated, none
overstrained. Ancient Rome and England are
still patterns in regard to the knowledge of state
measures, and in the observation of the proper
measure. Liberalism does not perfect anything
before maturity, or before the times command it.
But then it acts quickly, thoroughly and with
energy. Of this nature was the regeneration of
Prussia at the time of French supremacy. Even
under the administration of Stein decree followed
decree; but the national spirit advanced step by
step with these decrees. While Stein was laying
the foundations of civil freedom, and Scharnhorst
those of public defense, the intelligence and heart
of the German people had been raised to the level
of this freedom, and its active energy had be-
gun to long for the armament of the nation.”
(§§ 104–110.) — “Clearness of understanding,
grandeur and abundance of ideas, logical penetra-
tion, perfection of language and power of speech,
characterize the period of bloom of the human
mind. His entire organization impels the young
man into the fields of intellect, in search of organic
knowledge, to the study of philosophy and psy-
chology, of the sciences of the state, and of poli-
But, instead of applying the standard of
has only a quiet pride.
tics. The philosophy of the schools, or mere scho-
lasticism, call it as we may, formulas and technical
terms, may suit the boy, but the philosophy of
truth and of life belong to the man. Liberalism,
above all, thinks with the natural understanding.
Its human character tells it that true philosophy,
like true religion, must be universally human,
and therefore intelligible. Greek philosophy was
liberal, so far as its results affected the education,
the constitution and the politics of the Greeks;
the practical philosophy of the English was also
liberal, although only to a limited extent; and the
philosophy of the great German thinkers, of Leib-
nitz, Lessing, Herder, Müller and Frederick the
Great, was liberal in a still higher degree. But
the German systematic philosophy as such, is not
liberal, because the manner and method accord-
ing to which it seeks truth are formal, and the
tendency which it keeps in view is not that of
life, but of thought as a business. But, to liber-
alism, thought and action, theory and practice,
are one and the same thing.” (§§ 112, 113.)—
“The boy applies to the world an abstract, spec-
ulative or mathematical, and the young man a
psychological, measure. The one seeks and acts
according to formulas, the other according to or-
ganic laws; the one sets up categories, the other
principles. The young man is full of ideals, but
his ideals are rooted in ideas. A policy, if it be
grand and human, must pursue an ideal; and it
only ceases to be a manly policy, when, instead of
pursuing this end with a cool, considerate sense
of the practical, it pursues it in an idealistic man-
ner. In the highest stage of liberalism the ideal
and real become one. Every liberal ideal, even
when a failure in the present, leaves seeds behind
it in history, from which subsequently either its
corporeal form springs, or some other blessing
is harvested.” (§§ 115–117.)—“The eye of the
young man is turned mainly forward into the
present and the future. His relation to history is
not an immediate one, and yet it is none the less
a deep and sacred one. Life leads him into his-
tory. Every institution which history has sancti-
fied, is sacred to him, not because that which was
or that which is of long duration compels his re-
spect, but because he understands its foundation
in human nature, its effects on the head and heart,
in a word, its psychological character. The lib-
eral knows that no power in history can be de-
stroyed unless the psychical roots which it has shot
out are destroyed, or unless a greater power can
be put in motion against it. In other words, no
historical institution should be tampered with
unless there be substituted for its hitherto psychi-
cal efficacy a psychical efficacy equally great.”
(§ 118.)—“There is a distinctive trait which infalli-
bly distinguishes the character of the young mafi
from that of the boy. The boy is vain, the man
Let us compare Lafayette
with Washington. Although the two were near
enough to each other in views and circumstances,
the simple and quiet demeanor of Washington
contrasts widely enough with Lafayette's vanity,
106
PARTIES.
to warrant us in characterizing the latter as a rad-
ical, and Washington as a liberal.” (§§ 121, 122.)
– “The young man as quickly subordinates him-
Self to another whom he recognizes as his superior,
as he classes himself above those whom he feels
to be his inferiors. While the boy says: ‘There
is no higher right than mine,’ all the man wishes
is that “every one should have what belongs to
him.’ The main trait of the young man’s char-
acter is hatred of all oppression and want of equity
and uprightness of mind. When this side of his
Character is touched, he forthwith reveals all the
full life of his soul, and the indomitable energy of
his mind. But, as he constantly keeps in view the
moral natural law, and sees the contradiction of
positive material law with the essential order of
things to be more frequent as he grows older, he is
liable to abandon or neglect, in disgust, traditional
forms, and thus to afford his adversary a weapon,
by the skillful handling of which, many a liberal
has succumbed in the fight against hypocritical
legality, the legality of the scribes and pharisees.
In his Götz von Berlichingen, Goethe has described
a character of this kind.” (§ 124.)—“The posi-
tion of liberalism toward religion may be described
by recalling Bacon's well-known principle, that
true philosophy should doubt everything; but that
through doubt it should return to God. Liberal-
ism, at the start, is always criticism ; its end is
the taking of a position. The religion of liberal-
ism is free and cheerful, and even its doubts are
calm and respectful.” (§§ 129–131.)—“The
young man sees everywhere the law of superordi-
nation and subordination, an immense gradation
of forces succeeding one another, not side by side
with one another; a gradation of forces different
in kind and essence; and he soon perceives that
the machinery of creation rests on this diversity.
Liberalism knows no measure of primordial rights
except that which nature has implanted in each in-
dividual; that is, the gradation of freedom or inde-
pendence is to him the same as the gradation of
God-given power. By divine decree all have equal
rights, but not the sum of rights. Humanity is,
he says, by virtue of its organization, that is, by
virtue of divine right, a great aggregate individual,
endowed with supremacy over the earth. Every
member of this aggregate has a share in its rights.
This share is greater the more it gives expression
to the character of the whole, and smaller the fur-
ther it is removed from it. Not an equal share
for all, but to each one his own, is here also the
great principle of liberalism. To liberalism it
Seems to be the highest problem of science, the
foremost task of statesmanship, the fundamental
condition of all human well-being, to assign to
every capacity its proper sphere, to every virtue
its corresponding field of activity, to every indi-
viduality its right place.” (§§ 132–136.)—“But
when, from these principles, that seem so simple,
and as it were deduced from nature itself, the
young man turns his glance toward the positive
condition of things, he beholds another world.
He finds that the external hierarchy of the classes
of society is not true to its origin, and only too often
the reverse of the inward dignity which those
classes should express. He finds the crowd in the
higher, and nobility in the lower, orders; he
discovers stupidity ruling, wealth governing, the
weak influential, the bad. honored, mind the prey
of misery and neglect, force sacrificed to inaction,
highmindedness to hatred and intrigue. In nature
itself he sees causes provocative of contradiction
and difficulty. Not only can he find no way by
which to determine dignity of character and the
value of men's deserts; he finds an organic con-
fusion in the dualism of the measure itself. The
worth of the individual is not determined ex-
clusively by his individual organization, but by
another standard, by race. Race is not limited to
nationality, but extends its spirit to the province,
to the tribe and to the family. It is inseparable
from the person; it is a matter preliminary to pass-
ing judgment on men; it is the cover in which his
real nature is enwrapped, it is the canvas from
which the characteristic peculiarity of the indi-
vidual stands out in relief. As it affords the lib-
eral a second measure of human valuation, his.
task is to place both measures in their right rela-
tion to each other, to consider the race as the
substratum, and the individual as the quality, so
that the latter may prevail, but with due consid-
eration for the former.” (§ 139.)—“From the
view of the world above described, it follows that
the man considers the state as a direct necessary
product of human nature, as the crown of human
organization. The man recognizes no public or
constitutional law with its origin in contract.
Neither does he admit a state of which God, in a
mechanical sense, is the originator and governor,
except in so far as God has endowed human nature
with the instinct to form states, and as he for-
ever remains in close union with man, his creature.
The man knows only an organically operating
God, a God acting through human freedom. In
himself, in his body and in his soul, the man finds
the fundamental principles of the organism of the
state. Liberalism conceives the state as a body,
of which no member is without a connection with
the whole, and of which no member is without a
share in the whole. But in this organism it
conceives each state power in its place freely
acting within its sphere, no power so separated
from another as to disturb the living connection
between them, no one opposed to another, but One
all-embracing power at the head of all. The law
he considers as the aggregate product of the na-
tional will. Hence it wishes that not the head ex-
clusively, but the members also, should share, in
due proportion, in the legislative power. It con-
siders every state as the embodiment of a nation,
and every nation as a particular individual with
indestructible features. The state of the party of
liberalism is a state which respects the rights of
the mind, as the highest criterion of class, so that
the poorest peasant may rise to the highest order
of nobility, and the Scion of nobility sink to the
lowest condition, as complete worth or worthless-
PARTIES.
107
ness characterizes them: a constitution which in
everything prefers man to external circumstances,
nature to culture, insight to acquired learning,
and which affords to mind and virtue the best
opportunity to assert their power.” (§§ 141–147.)
— If, accordingly, we are asked to define the fun-
damental character of liberalism, as contrasted
with radicalism, we must say that the real dis-
tinction between them consists in the supremacy
of abstraction in the latter, and the supremacy of
the individual in the former. — 3. Conservatism.
Conservatism is explained by the nature of the
‘‘ older man.” The term ‘‘ Older man ’’ is evi-
dently inappropriately applied to the age of man
from thirty-two to forty-eight, as Rohmer applied
it, because it suggests a still more advanced age.
Even the term “tried man” is generally applied
to men in the forties, not to those in the thirties.
In the absence of an expression corresponding to
the Latin juvenis, we prefer to use the term “com-
plete,” “mature,” or simply “the man,” because
he has reached life’s Zenith, toward which the
young man, striving upward, is still pressing. —
“The perfect man has already reached the van-
tage ground which the young man is still strug-
gling to attain. His affairs are regulated, his
home is established, and he has found a field for
action. His concern is not coveting anything
new, but holding fast to what he has; not acqui-
sition, but increase; not the conquering of an un-
known world, but the regulation of the world he
knows. He is self-reliant and free, like the young
man; to a much higher degree, in so far as the
ripeness of age lifts him above the necessity of
assistance, but to a lesser degree, in so far as the
circumstances of life fetter him. He is fettered
by circumstances, surroundings, duties, and a
number of considerations of which the young
man, generally single, has no idea. His wife and
children, his position and property, equally im-
pose on him the duty of preservation; instinct
and consciousness impel him to it. Nature has
summed up the conditions of all life in two fun-
damental laws, the law of generation and the law
of preservation. Thus, also, the two fundamen-
tal tendencies of humanity are characterized by
these laws, liberalism by the former, and conser-
vatism by the latter, law.” (§ 153.)—“The ma-
ture man, of all men, has alone an “uncondition-
al’ claim to govern. The young man, through
the earlier half of his career, combines skill and
force, but he lacks experience. When we say
that liberalism usually guides the world, that con-
Scrvatism rules it, while radicalism opposes and
absolutism intrigues, we briefly characterize the
relations of parties to one another as the condi-
tion of mankind generally creates them.” (§ 154.)
– “The man has formed his opinions. His
views are fixed, his faith is a definite one. The
young man had to acquire truth through doubt;
he must through investigation preserve and ele-
vate the truth. The young man criticises in order
to acquire; the man, to increase what has been
acquired. An inclination to preserve, and skill
in improving: such are the man's preponderating
traits. Being the master of a household, and set-
tled in all his relations, he avoids all disturbance,
and changes nothing, when a pressing need does
not render the change necessary. But it is equally
natural to him to give an ever firmer foundation
to his home and family, and to perfect his condi-
tion more and more. His position not only does.
not prevent him from making, but it impels him
to make, all such improvements in his situation
on the largest possible scale, and by all means in
his power. —In this he is just as indefatigable
and active as the young man in his endeavor to:
acquire a fortune. Without being indifferent or
narrow minded, he takes the world as it is, with
its perfections and defects; and his way of mak-
ing it more endurable consists rather in devel-
oping the good elements that are in it, and in
preserving them, than in building new creations.
from them, creations the success of which he
does not feel certain of. As the young man not.
only feels himself impelled to positive, new cre-
ations, but at the same time to the removal of
abuses, and of that which has been outlived, SO
also the conservative man, besides increasing pres-
ent stores, feels always inclined to the restoration
of those institutions which a thankless Or a nar-
row-minded age had unjustly allowed to decay.
From the first of these dispositions reform pro-
ceeds; from the latter, restoration.” (§ 158.)—
“The supremacy of the mature man depends on
the esteem which he commands, on the confidence
which he inspires, and on the firmness of his
whole nature. His education, in point of genu-
ine solidity, comprehensiveness of knowledge and
command of details, is as superior to the educa-
tion of the young man as it is inferior to it in
ideal human nature. The ideal force of liberal-
ism may prove wholesome in opposition to the
state: the life experience of conservatism belongs.
directly to affairs.” (§ 161.)—“We have summed
up the intellectual constitution of the perfect man
in the term wisdom. Wisdom can not vie with
genius in productiveness, but it is equal to the lat-
ter in wealth of conception, and Superior to it in
elaboration. Wisdom is inferior to genius in pen-
etration, but surpasses it in circumspection; wis-
dom, by its fullness of knowledge, makes up for
the advantage genius has over it in keenness of
perception, and it supplies, by its comprehension
of details, the ease with which genius grasps the
whole; experience imparts to wisdom a Solidity
and knowledge of men which for substance may
well compete with splendor of ideas. If genius
carries measure within it because it watches Over
itself, the having such measure within one's self
is to wisdom a second nature: to keep within
measure and to be wise are one. The young man
is genius in motion, the mature man is genius at
rest. The former may be called active, the lat-
ter passive, genius. If, in poetry, we compare
Shakespeare and Goethe, we have an approximate
picture of this latter difference.” (§ 162.)—“Wis-
dom investigates and forecasts: it tracks out What
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PARTIES.
is hidden, it understands the past, and preserves
the germs of the future; sagacity and power of
memory are inborn in the perfect man. As we
regard language as the highest power of the
young man, So we may consider intellectual dis-
cernment as the faculty most peculiar to the ma-
ture man. In these, language and intellectual
discernment, the highest faculties of man, lies the
difference between liberal and conservative poli-
tics, when once intelligence rules. The science
of mind here becomes the science of the condi-
tions into which the mind has settled, the law of
nature becomes historic right, and psychology
becomes history. Hence, what conservatism pro-
duces is not essentially new; it is only the same
truth, the same creation that liberalism already
had created, only in another light.” (§ 163.)—
“Liberalism struggles for principles, and it only
is able to give birth to the highest principle. Yet
if it lights on a false principle, it falls into errors,
which the mature man can never share, because
he never opposes principles to positive life, but
always moderates them through law and history.
He also desires that external law should be a mir-
ror of the inner"law, but he never sacrifices it for
the sake of the latter, because experience makes
him recoil from the danger of such attempts. The
inviolability of property, and of private rights in
general, is hence one of the principal features of
conservatism.” (§ 165.)— “The power of resist-
ance preserves man externally, and inwardly he
is guided by the principle of fidelity. This fidel-
ity has given rise to the German proverb: Eºn.
wort, ein mann; the keeping of one's word is so pe-
culiarly the mark of conservative minds.” (§ 167.)
— “Practical life is the natural field of the mature
man. The government of the family, marriage,
the relation of master and servant, are best under-
stood and managed by the mature man. The
young, as well as the mature, man, founds mar-
riage on the divine sanction, that is, on the divine
natural law, which has willed the duality of the
sexes, and therewith the organic union of two
individuals fitted for each other ; but while the
young man founds the mutual supplementing of
the two sexes on the psychical similarity of their
natures, the latter measures it by similarity of
their situation in actual life, and of the conditions
necessary to the secure existence of a family.
Both views, however, are misused, the former
by radicalism, the latter by absolutism. In the
former, the inner inclination degenerates into a
weakly, fickle feeling, and we have modern mar-
riage, which has rightly been called sentimental
marriage. Absolutism, on the other hand, makes
marriage merely a matter of convenience, inas-
much as, without any regard to nature, it pays
attention only to the external circumstances, such
as birth, money, etc.” (§ 168.)—“In the case of
the mature man the government of a family is
closely connected with the direction of his house-
hold and the management of his property. To
possess is a craving of his nature. From being
thus bound to property and family, it follows that
conservatism, as a party, is more difficult to organ-
ize and direct than other parties. The conserv-
ative party is usually inactive and phlegmatic;
everybody attends to his own business; matters
are allowed to go, and men are aroused only when
there is actual danger; in England, for instance,
it is not the party of moderation, but the high
tories, who keep alive the violent agitation of par-
ties.” (§ 169.) — “Experience, and the wants
that necessarily accompany it, lead the mature
man more directly to religion than does criticism
the young man. If the mature man is prepon-
derantly religious, he may be severe, and to
a certain degree anxious; but never unfree or
unfriendly disposed toward manly criticism. He
will accordingly treat the church with sincere
regard and love. But he is the most pronounced
enemy of any falling off in the discipline of
the church, of worldliness in the members of
the church, of abuse of its sacred character.”
(§§ 171–173.)—“As in mature age, there is sub-
stituted a sense of obligation for the extreme
freedom in which youth delighted, so the sense of
order is found in the man, side by side with the
notion of liberty; and it governs. Freedom de-
sires that every one should attain the highest of
which he is capable ; order, that no one should
aspire higher than becomes him. — Race, to which
youth only pays secondary consideration, has for
the father of a family an entirely new importance.
An unintentional, irrepressible instinct impels the
mature man to attribute to it a higher importance,
and only to give it up when the individual is com-
pletely useless. Liberalism and conservatism value
the organic powers of man; liberalism with a pre-
ponderating appreciation of the Organically pecu-
liar, and conservatism of the organically inherited.
The “peculiar” powers build up society; the
“hereditary” preserve it. In the former lies the
prototype, without which nothing can come into
existence; in the latter, tradition, without which
nothing can endure. As greatness of individuality,
combined with a corresponding exterior, confers
precedence on the person who is possessed of both,
a precedence which men are wont unconsciously,
and by virtue of an original instinct, to acknowl-
edge, so also a superior race, in combination with
wealth of material and intellectual possessions,
commands a consideration which nobody thinks
of withholding from it. Heredity is accordingly
immediately founded in conservatism, while lib-
eralism knows it only in as far as it respects race
as the foil, so to speak. But there is not only a
congenital transmission, in which race consists,
there is also an acquired one, a second, more
spiritual transmission, which has the former for
a foundation. The first is the inheritance of
blood, which man receives at his entrance into
the world; the second, the inheritance of all that
which in the course of his life has to such a de-
gree become naturally assimilated with his charac-
ter that it becomes his second nature, the sum
total of all the impressions which circumstances
and intercourse with men and fortune have left
PARTIES.
109
upon him, permanently and with determining
power.” (§§ 174–177.)— “In the liberal state,
persons with their substratum of lineage, rule;
in the conservative state, lineage, brought out
into relief by persons, rules. In the former, ideas
prevail, in connection with the existing state
of things; in the latter, tradition, with the con-
tinuing influence of ideas. “In the liberal state,’
as Montesquieu expresses it, ‘ virtue' rules, and
‘moderation' in the conservative state. In the
former, public law is more developed; in the lat-
ter, private. In the former, political freedom
prevails, on the basis of personal freedom; in the
latter, personal freedom, with the corresponding
addition of political freedom. Liberalism con-
siders the object of the state to be preponder-
antly active, and that it consists in the highest
development of man as man; conservatism looks
upon it as preponderantly passive, and that it
consists in securing to the furthest extent the
existing legal order of things.” (§ 180.) —4.
Absolutism. In order correctly to understand the
comparison of absolutism with the “old man,”
we must again call to mind that the age stages of
human life seem fixed in parties, that is, that the
different energies of the soul, which alternately
appear and disappear in the life of the individual
man, determine in a permanent manner the nature
of parties. The individual who is by nature lib-
eral or conservative, will continue liberal or con-
servative in his advanced years; the individual
who is by nature old inclines even in boyhood
toward absolutism. Not the qualities that have
been developed at an early age, and which have
attained to complete maturity, but only the quali-
ties which appear for the first time in later years,
and which nobody, not even the old man himself,
considers better than the instincts and powers of
youth and ripe manhood, determine the spirit of
absolutism. The absolutist party, therefore, is
Compared to a man who is only old, and who is
not, at the same time, a man in the sense of lib-
eralism or conservatism. — “The old man has
left the greater part of his years behind him. He
enjoys the past in reminiscences; the future, in his
children; the present no longer belongs to him.
The sum of his experiences is fixed. The con-
victions which he has derived from them are un-
changeable. This result, bought with the toil and
labor of a life, with its roots in his head and heart,
a result to which the sweat of his brow and the
blood of his hand still cling—this result, and this
Only, must be the true one. In old age we have
no conditional, no relative views (?); near to the
end we Crave the absolute. The age stage, which
has had more experience than the others, has no
peer among the other stages. It withdraws into
itself, and the world goes on, while old age be-
lieves it is overlooking it. This isolation, this
inclination toward the absolute, combined with
the weakness of nature, deprives old age of the
ruling position to which by its very nature it
seemed to be called preferably to all others.
pOSSesses a great fund of experience, but its expe-
Age
rience is at an end. For only the man who with-
out prejudice comes in contact with the world
learns anything from the world. The organic
position of absolutism, that in which the state (as
nature requires) makes use of the experience of
age, without sacrificing itself to its exclusiveness,
is the consultative one.” (§ 182.)—“The old
man hates novelty in the same degree as the boy
loves it. Old age fetters his elasticity; his whole
being revolts against it; for with every innovation
a new portion of the edifice that it had reared
with such immense toil is shattered. The world
is changing about him; other opinions, other in-
stitutions, other customs, arise. Every day, so to
speak, declares war against him. He is overcome
with grief and disgust. Self-love, man’s foremost
quality, manifests reaction. The old man has
passed through all the stages of life; he can un-
derstand them all, he exacts obedience from all.
But while he lifts himself above them, while he
makes his own phase of life the last product of
all the others, and considers it the Only true One,
without, however, taking any part in the process
of life either in the way of production or trans-
formation, life slips from his grasp at the moment
he believes he has finally grasped it. He is beset,
on the one hand, by the indestructible instinct of
old age to assert its importance, and on the other,
by the impossibility of harmonizing with other
men. Reaction is unavoidable. It lies in the
innermost nature of absolutism.” (§ 183.) — “In-
tolerance and despotism are the natural conse-
quences of this position. The principle of abso-
lutism is the principle outside the adhesion to
which there is no salvation. With it doubt is a
sin, and resistance a crime. The narrowness of
absolutism is less a lack of understanding than an
instinctive unwillingness to understand anything
in nature. It is this which imparts to the despot-
ism of absolutism a much harsher, more injurious,
character than to radical despotism. Absolutism
frequently understands the demands of the peoples
whom it maltreats; but it will not yield to these
demands. When want comes, it knows how to
appeal to higher ideas; it then accommodates
itself to the times, it yields, capitulates—a clear
proof that it can understand—yet only to go back
to its old ways as soon as possible.” (§ 184.)—
“As the boy plays the young man, SO does the
old man assume the demeanor of the mature man;
in other words, as the radical takes upon him-
self the ways of the liberal, so does the absolutist
desire to pass for a conservative. Radicalism rides
heedlessly over old established rights, when they
are an obstruction to innovation; reaction, re-
gardless of consequences, destroys all the hard-
earned results of a grand present, that it may rule
again. Both are equally ignorant of the laws
of intellectual, and of the limits of historical,
rights; both equally trample history and private
rights under foot; both believe themselves able,
by their ‘fiat' of omnipotence, and by decrees on
paper, to establish institutions in conflict with the
spirit of the times, of nations and of the Soil; both
11()
PARTIES.
are equally destructive. ‘The world is growing
worse, the world was better in the past,” has,
since Nestor's time, been the motto of the old
man; as radicalism by its optimistic dreams, and
the old man by his passiveness, undermine the
quietude of nations.” (§ 185.)—“Reaction is
naturally fixed in its retrogression, just as mat-
urally as revolution raises its progress into law,
and repels all contradiction. Reaction goes back
only to a certain stage of the past, but not as the
restoration goes back to the past, as an intellectual
development. This constitutes the essential dif-
ference between reaction and restoration. * * *
— “The boy approaches the world with intuition
and imagination, but the old man with reflection
and combination. * * The one abounds in
whims and ideals, the other with apergus and
rules; and at last the old man reaches the point
the child had reached—at abstraction on the one
hand, and at sensuous perception on the other.
The deductive rules on which the old man relies
without intellectually mastering them, inspire him
with that infallible confidence, that strange self-
deception, by which absolutism runs toward ruin,
without perceiving the abyss, until the ground be-
gins to quake under its feet. In this manner age
collapses into a spiritless empiricism, which ignores
all higher points of view, and at last degenerates
into a materialism, which drags what is highest
and holiest down into the dust.” (§ 192.)—
“Where combination is so preponderantly devel-
oped as in the old man, the principle of numbers
very naturally asserts itself. Mathematics and
the entire series of the exact sciences are the field
on which the mind of the old man finds its high-
est satisfaction. The boy applies himself to math-
ematics because its abstract generality satisfies his
mind and sharpens his faculties, and the old man
seeks refuge in it because it alone affords him
that absolute yet sensibly real certainty in which
his mind finds rest. But it seems rather strange
that this empirical certainty should tempt him
into shallows, from which even ideal contempla-
tion remains exempt. In its train follow cabala,
alchemy, magic and necromancy. The sober
clearness of mathematical laws seems irreconcila-
ble with the enigmatical plays of the cabala; and
so does it seem incredible to reflecting reason,
that dry rationalism, for which everything is too
high which can not be made as plainly evident
as that twice two makes four, should still pair
itself with the nebulous mysticism of the theurgic
and magic arts; and yet both are to be found
united in absolutism.” (§ 193.)—“Old age is
thus formal in history. If the boy is formal be-
cause he is unable to see through form, the old
man resolves essence into form to shape it as he
wants. Right sinks into a treaty. Loyalty be-
comes a narrow legalism, and the more the idea
of right contracts, the more obstinately does the
old man cling to separate provisions. The most
sacred interests are sacrificed to the letter of an
agreement, and the application of the law, under
the veil of the summum jus, becomes a permanent
exercise of the summa injuria. From the point
of view of such legalism the condemnation of
Christ was not judicial murder, but an act of jus-
tice. In legislation, also, absolutism applies this
mechanical, arithmetical measure. History, with
free-thinking absolutists, becomes a collection of
maxims, apérºus, remarks and analogies, as it was
with the men of the world trained in the French
school of the last century; to the absolutists of a
positive opinion, history is but the treasure house
of his own opinions. The ‘historical basis,” the
‘deep ideas of the past,’ the ‘organic articulation
of the state,’ the ‘good old law’: absolutism fre-
quently employs all these conservative phrases,
just as its counterpart (radicalism) uses the words
freedom and equality, and ignores them with the
same ease.” (§ 194.)—“The heart of man feels
the effect of years as heavily as his mind. Old
age is as far removed from the equanimity of
mature age. Its rest is but the quietism of ex-
haustion. The great passions have subsided;
only the little ones remain. The old man is irri-
table in the highest degree, his moods are whim-
sical and changeable. His passive sensibility
sometimes causes his mind to accept indiscrimi-
nately all impressions, and sometimes to display
that dull indifference (laïsser aller) which charac-
terizes the staid man (phºlister), that inferior em-
bodiment of absolutism.” (§ 195.)—“The boy,
to become powerful, must remain under training;
old age, on the contrary, must have pupils, and
wishes to be surrounded by persons who obey.
The old man may be mild, gentle, and careful of
his pupils; but he wants no free man around him.
An absolute government may be well meaning
and paternal, but the air of freedom, the highest
good of life, is never breathed under it.” (§ 197.)
— “The weakness of old age reveals itself in a
remarkable manner in this, that its virtue, like
that of the boy, needs support from without. In
the case of the boy this support is the law; in the
case of the old man it is tradition, convention,
maxims, reflective virtue, the morals of principles.
If we wish to get a notion of the conventional
morality of absolutism, we should read Kotzebue's
plays. It was this morality that prevailed in the
upper classes in the past century. Here there are
no maxims of law and custom, but social consid-
erations.” (§ 198.)—“If we reflect on the above
it is obvious that there must enter into the efforts
of old age, to attain moral perfection, an artificial
element. As what is noble does not spring spon-
taneously from nature, incapacity calls forth a
violent effort, and this again betrays ‘the power
of weakness.’ Hence comes the demand for “un-
conditional obedience’ in absolute states. When
the weakness of nature breaks through the bounds
of principle, the vices of old age develop into
unnatural tyranny, of which history affords so
many instances. Philip II. is the most striking
instance of wicked old age: another illustration is
the hideous Tiberius, who, more than any other
ruler, combined in his nature womanly weak-
ness and diabolical strength, weakness of charac-
PARTIES.
111
ter and baseness. It is the custom to consider all
the Roman emperors as absolutists; but Caligula,
Nero and Commodus were only depraved boys;
genuine tyrants are found only in old age. —
Modern Machiavelism walks about in a stately
garb, gentle, pleasant and winning. It under-
stands the art of appearance, and under paternal
mildness conceals machination. It shakes hands
with the proletarian, and surrounds itself with
the severity of majesty, according to the times.
Cruel when cruelty, kind when kindness, leads to
its end, it ignores everything but its own aims,
and the arithmetical weighing of the means.
Such a man was Augustus, a man endowed with
the greatest intellectual gifts, and who might well
say of himself, that he had cleverly played his
part.” (§ 200.)—“Old age is also characterized by
weakness in private life, chiefly in the management
of its household. As woman, both in childhood
and old age, is superior to man, the interference
of women in radical and absolute homes or states
is almost unavoidable. If the times are favorable,
woman becomes permanently preponderant. The
government of mistresses in the eighteenth century
is well known.” (§ 201.)—“Old age in matters of
faith knows either only mechanical obedience or
complete dissolution of beliefs, literal Orthodoxy
or atheism. Voltaire, La Mettrie and Shaftesbury
were far from radical; they were profound, log-
ical absolutists.” (§ 201.)—“When a reasoning
absolutist wishes to understand the origin of the
state, he is, by his very nature, forced to seek
refuge in the idea of formal covenant, of an arti-
ficial contract. This famous theory, which is
nothing but a distortion peculiar to old age, of
natural right into arbitrary convention, owes its
origin to the absolutist period of the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries. The radicals have
adopted it because it is in keeping with their
intellectual constitution; but to the provisions
of the social contract, following their bent, they
have added the doctrine of equality. According
to virile notions, public authority has the right
in itself, and subjects their rights .in them-
selves. But only the free man can understand
this; the man who is not free is compelled to
seek the source of his condition, the title to his
rights, outside himself. The man who is not free
subjects himself to another, because, as the theory
itself puts it, he alienates his rights to another, and
the latter commands because the former has alien-
ated his rights to him; or, according to Orthodox
ideas, because God has given the latter command
over him.” ($204.)—“There is no right in abso-
lute monarchy except that which emanates from
the ruler; he alone is what he is by the grace of
God; all the others are what they are only through
the grace of the absolute monarch. The most
perfect embodiment of this system is the consti-
tution of the order of Jesuits, and the Roman
curia, according to the Jesuitic conception of it.
The company of Jesus subjects body, soul, actions
and thoughts to the omnipotence of the general
of the society, in whose hands the members are
but unconscious tools. According to the curia,
the whole church rests in the papal chair.” ($205.)
— “Old age, however, besides despotism, has
also its democratic features. Absolute power
may be attributed to the people as well as to the
ruler. Europe has witnessed not only a great
radical, but also an absolutist, revolution, the Eng-
lish. That revolution was the embodiment Of
fanatical belief, as the French revolution was of
fanatical abstraction. When the radical prole-
tarian rises, he wishes to be put on an equal foot-
ing with others; when the lazzarome is aroused, he
remains what he is, in order, as a la22arone, to
avenge himself on others.” ($206.)—“Because
age carries the germ of dissolution in itself, it
can only be kept together through the most rigid
observance of forms. This is the essence of legit-
imist monarchy. Its characteristic trait is, that
instead of striving to do the state service, it
makes such service itself its purpose. In other
words, it does not administer except for the sake
of administering. Birth, not merit; money, not
mind; routine and mannerism, are the conditions
of appointment to place. Form becomes essence;
essence, form. The external policy of absolutism
knows only combinations, not ideas. Without
any regard for the inborn tendencies of peoples,
but simply to round out the national boundaries,
it huddles provinces together at hap-hazard, as
they have been acquired through conquest or
marriage. Instead of natural equilibrium, it
seeks an artificial balance, which may be dis-
turbed by the merest breath; instead of treatics,
it is satisfied with agreements for the moment;
instead of a proper diplomacy, it pursues a diplo-
macy of intrigue, with a gorgeous representation,
but without statesmanlike substance. Its foreign
policy is either strictly orthodox (legitimist), or
materialistic. Form everywhere rules. –5. Mu-
tual Relations of Parties. Liberalism and con-
servatism, the two virile parties, may combat
each other, for although one in aim, their
methods are different, but in spite of their dif-
ferences they should never forget their close rela-
tionship. They are indeed nearer to each other
than either of them is to any other party, and
than the other parties are to each other. They
may be opponents, but only opponents who
respect each other.” (§ 209.) — “Between lib-
eralism and absolutism, as also between conserva-
tism and radicalism, there is no point of contact.
They are even as different in what they do as in
how they do it. On the other hand, liberalism
and radicalism have a common line of action,
while conservatism and absolutism have the fea-
ture of preservation in common; but in spirit
and character, liberalism and conservatism are
superior to the extreme parties. Radicalism and
absolutism, finally, have many resemblances in
their bearing. Sometimes they act together
friendly; more frequently they combat each
other, very much as boys refuse to longer submit
to the rule of the older. The true relation of
parties is found when the extreme parties share
112
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
in the national struggles only mediately, and are
led by their corresponding manly parties. Poli-
tics is ruined when the extreme parties obtain
supremacy.” (§§ 210–212.) — 6. Psychological
Contrasts ºn Politics ºn General. Since Rohmer's
doctrine of parties psychologically determines
and describes the fundamental types of parties in
accordance with the age stages of man, and thus
discovers four types, peculiar both in spirit and
character, it goes beyond the task of explaining
political parties themselves, and thus, from being
a theory of political character and mind in their
natural chief kinds and forms, it becomes a
new psychological science of politics in general.
This theory throws new light on political facts
and individual character. Even where there are
no political parties, there are still to be found
radical, liberal, conservative, absolutist, individ-
uals whose way of thinking and acting finds its
explanation in that theory, just as much as if
such individuals had formed themselves into a
party, and as such, tried to influence public life.
Those fundamental types may also more clearly
and easily be illustrated in individuals than in
parties, for on the formation of parties many
things exercise an influence besides the natural dis-
position of the individuals who unite to form a
party. It not unfrequently happens that the lead-
ers of the parties individually belong to another
type than the party itself. The liberal Mirabeau
was the head of a radical party; the liberal Pitt
was the leader of the absolutist conservative
tories; in the revolution of the Netherlands, the
conservative William the Silent led the radical-
liberal party. In Switzerland the absolutist par-
ties, in Germany the ultramontane parties, are
often led by radicals; and so, on the other hand,
the radical-revolutionary parties confide their
cause to the expert skill of absolutist generals. –
Above parties stand the people. But in nations also
we often perceive the same chief tendencies that
distinguish individuals and parties. In the French
national character the absolutist character, and
in the French spirit the radical trait, is very prom-
inent ; and this explains the violent changes in
French political history. On the contrary, in the
Russian nation the absolutist, spirit seems to be
combined with a radical disposition. The Eng-
lish are manifestly liberal in character and conser-
vative in spirit ; the ideal of the Germans is a
liberal government, maintained and supported by
the conservative people. — From the four funda-
mental tendencies of humanity, Rohmer derives
four general characters of political constitutions,
as distinguished from forms of the state. “Rad-
icalism, as the supremacy of abstraction, engenders
the idol state ; liberalism, as the Supremacy of
individual personality, the individual state; con-
servatism, which pays homage above all things to
the power of history and the rights of races, the
race state; and finally, absolutism, the form state.”
(§§ 220–226.)—The history of nations, and, on
the whole, in its grand outlines, the history of
humanity, follows these changing impulses in
their different periods. The period of childhood
is devoted to the service of abstraction; in old age,
traditional forms obtain a decisive authority. At
the height of life the manly tendencies prevail.
Humanity has not as yet reached its climax,
but it is manifestly approaching it. Its develop-
ment on the whole is, therefore, liberal; the
modern era is intellectually freer and more self-
conscious than any previous one. But, within
modern times, history, in different ages and phases
of development, has already repeatedly made the
circuit of the age stages of man, and of their
respective tendencies. On this necessary move-
ment rests, in part, the divine education of nations;
on this also rests their highest expression, the
changing phases of the spirit of the times, the
breath of which every one feels, but the correct
understanding of which constitutes the art of the
StateSman. J. C. BLUNTSCHL.I.
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED
STATES. The first recorded party contest in
New York state, in 1789, ended in a total poll of
12,453; the total vote in 1880 was 1,102,945, and
the number of voters over 1,200,000. This advance
in the voting and the possible votes of nearly one
hundred fold, or six times larger than the growth
of population, aptly measures at once the needs,
the conditions and the development of party
government in the United States. Meetings at
“Martling’s” in New York, and the “Long
Room * in Boston, were sufficient for the conduct
of party affairs, while the voters of one city num-
bered less than 3,000, and the poll list of the other
fell short of this number by one-half ; but the
enormous increase of the voting voter, due, first,
to the spread of political privileges by law, second,
to the growth of political interests by party con-
tests, and third, to the increase of population—
has rendered the earlier methods obsolete, and
developed an intricate system of party govern-
ment, the product of the last sixty years, whose
working is most vigorously attacked by those least
aware of the tremendous difficulties presented
by the quadrennial mobilization of 9,000,000
voters. The development of party government
has, therefore, been along the inevitable lines of
increasing organization and delegated powers,
whose development in the state is the familiar
story of representative government. Burke's defi-
nition, “Party is a body of men united in pro-
moting by their joint endeavors the national
interest upon some particular principle in which
they are all agreed,” was accurately applicable to
the small and coherent body of electors which he
represented. While remaining true in spirit, it
has ceased to apply in detail to the two great
political camps into which the United States has
been substantially divided for thirty years. In
these two parties a bare fraction of voters, not a
tenth at most, carrying on the active work of party
government, constitute the standing army of po-
litical life, which in periodical struggles exhausts
its efforts in the endeavor “to poll the last man”;
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
113
in a word, to mobilize the great mass of inert
voters with constantly increasing success. Be-
ginning in 1820 with a polled vote in New York
state (where the records are most complete), with
one voter in five (12,453 in 1789, out of 57,606
voters in 1790), the proportion steadily rose to
31.12 per cent. in 1826, increased rapidly during
the next six years, in which the foundations of
party government were laid, to an average of 60
per cent., or very nearly the average now obtain-
ing in Great Britain, rising in the ten years ending
in 1865 to 77, reaching in the presidential year
1876 to 88 per cent., and in 1880 to 90 per cent.
How largely keen political interest and high intel-
ligence are needed to increase this per cent. is
made best apparent by the fact that the highest
percentage of voting voters in those states has
been for years in the counties whose percentage
of American-born population is largest. This
growth in the percentage of voters exercising the
right of voters, no less than the widening of suf-
frage, has increased the complexity of party man-
agement during the last century upon a scale
rather one of kind than of degree. — At the
organization of the federal government the num-
ber of voters in each political division was still
small enough to permit the management of parties
by the simple and rudimentary methods long in
use among English-speaking peoples. These were,
self-nomination for the candidate, the caucus or
meeting to express the desire of the voter, and
in addition, as a dormant political power in the
state, there existed the convention, which the tra-
ditions rather than the usage of the English con-
stitution made the form in which the general
body politic took original and initiatory action.
Except in the southern states, which retain many
archaic forms in their political life, self-nomina-
tion has disappeared in this country, the public
meeting has become the caucus or primary, and
is treated elsewhere (see CAUCUS); while the con-
vention, developing along two distinct and inde-
pendent lines, has become in its constitutional
form the body to which is committed the compo-
sition of organic law, while in its political form
it has come to be the body which in county,
district, state and national affairs acts under a
loosely defined body of usage and party regula-
tion for the party as an organic whole, in theory
drawing its power from the primaries, in prac-
tice acting independently, regulating their action
and determining their constitution. — These two
widely divergent forms of the convention origi-
nated in the same stem; but while one attained
full development and power in the constitution-
making period of the revolution, the other only
reached its development in the party-making
period, which began in 1820, and ended in 1840,
with the party organization now (1883) in exist-
ence in full operation, although the development
of its details is still in progress. The convention,
as a primal political force in the body politic, ap-
peared early in American history. “They had
no doubt,” says Hutchinson of the action of the
127 VOL. III. — 8
Massachusetts colonists when the old council had
taken possession of the government from which
a mob had driven Gov. Andross, “received advice
of the convention called by the prince of Orange,
and, in imitation of it, they recommended (May
2, 1689) to the several towns of the colony to meet
and depute persons,” who assembled, and assumed
the right to decide what constituted the govern-
ment of the colony, as the convention parliament
of 1688, assembled without a writ, had decided
upon the constituent powers of the English gov-
ernment. The whig lawyers who managed the
revolution in the thirteen colonies, itself essen-
tially a political struggle, were mindful of the
organic character which precedent attached to a
convention, and termed the meeting of commis-
sioners from the colonies a congress. Meanwhile,
the radical changes in progress through the col-
onies were conducted by conventions, the work
being at length completed by a federal constitu-
tional convention, while the political government
of the day was carried on by meetings in the large
cities, supplemented by the collective action taken
by the members of colonial assemblies. The
latter, as well as the former, bridged over the
period between their sessions and their assembly
through the appointment of committees of cor-
respondence, a body which is the lineal pred-
ecessor of the “state central committee’’ of the
present day, and which remained for over fifty
years after the revolution the stated political au-
thority in deciding upon the executive conduct
oſ campaigns. These public meetings and com-
mittees of correspondence, in the post-revolution-
ary period, conducted normal political action;
the convention was employed when extraordinary
steps were proposed. Shay’s rebellion was pre-
ceded by one which met at Springfield, and em-
braced delegates from the counties about ; the
alarm created by the Hartford convention was in
part due to the selection of this term in summon-
ing it, and, without much regard to whether the
body was made up of delegates, any mass meeting
of more than usual importance was termed a con-
vention; e.g., the New York meeting nominating
George Clinton in 1811, the mass meeting led by
Daniel Webster in New Hampshire in 1812, or
even the early “conventions” in Maryland and
Pennsylvania which nominated Jackson and Har-
rison. — The initiative in local and state party
government, which rested at the opening of the
revolutionary war with city meetings, societies
and their committees of correspondence, was
transferred in the period succeeding this strug-
gle to state and federal legislatures, by whom it
continued to be exercised until 1830 in all parts
of the country, and in Some southern states until
1860. The change in New York state, a closely di-
vided political body, whose politics early reached,
and has since maintained, a high degree of or-
ganization, which makes its development typi-
cal, was distinct and definite in this direction.
George Clinton had been the chief executive of
the state through the war of independence, by
114
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
unopposed election. The first serious step toward
the organization of an opposition was by a meet-
ing of Clinton's opponents Feb. 11, 1789, which
nominated Robert Yates, and appointed a com-
mittee, of correspondence to promote his election,
while a letter soliciting his candidacy was ad-
dressed to him from Albany. Three years later
the nomination of John Jay was made by a called
meeting of his special supporters, and confirmed
by a larger body held later; Clinton, representing
the more popular organization, received his nom-
ination from a general meeting “composed, as
was alleged, of gentlemen from various parts of
the state,” followed by meetings in each county.
Here was the early germ of the convention, as
now known; but it withered from the practical
difficulty and the vast expense of travel, which
made it impossible to bring political delegates
together, except as they were already assembled
in state legislatures. It is highly significant that
each step in the higher organization of our parties
has been at a time when internal transportation
was developed. The state convention reached its
development in New York state in the decade
which saw the Erie canal opened; the national
convention first became complete in the period of
railroad expansion from 1850 to 1860, and the
management of a national campaign from a single
party centre only became possible from 1870 to
1880, when the telegraph system of the United
States was first extended over our territory.
These are the real conditions which have made
possible the development, and determined the
character, of party government. Tocqueville
early pointed out the extraordinary freedom of
political association, enjoyed in this country, but
this would have continued dependent on cliques
and caucuses at state capitals and at the seat of
federal power, if it had not been supplemented
by a freedom and facility in travel and communi-
cation inconceivable when he wrote. By 1795
an unprecedented advance in population had ex-
tended the base of political action in New York
state beyond the scope of any meeting, large or
select, on Manhattan island, and John Jay was
nominated by a quasi legislative caucus held at
Albany, which was, for a quarter of a century
after, the centre of political action. To the close
of the century, the action of the Albany caucus
was still shared by citizens of the state capital;
but the tendency was to recognize only legislators
as its members, and in 1804 Aaron Burr and
Morgan Lewis were nominated by fully organized
legislative caucuses. Even then the Burrite ticket
was completed by a public meeting at Albany,
|which nominated Oliver Phelps as lieutenant gov-
ernor; but for Burrites and “Quids’” the Albany
caucus of legislators was the controlling body,
its “address” the party platform, and its “com-
mittee of correspondence ’’ the governing body of
the campaign. A “regular ” party organization
now first appeared in New York politics, which
has never since been without a political organiza-
tion claiming “regularity" by virtue of its un-
broken political succession from the body which
in 1805 nominated D. D. Tompkins. For twenty
years afterward the business of carrying on party
government was conducted at Albany, and the
struggle against the “Albany regency * was in
fact the struggle of the counties and their political
action against power which out of the necessity
of the post road had gravitated to Albany. The
same development of party government was in
progress at all the state capitals, at least as far
south as Virginia and as far north as Massachu-
setts. In New Hampshire the “Rockingham con-
vention,” Aug. 5, 1812, a mass meeting of 1,500
voters, adopted a platform, nominated a full
ticket, state, electoral and congressional, and
joined in a vigorous address to President Madi-
son. In Vermont “conventions of free men’’
and the legislative caucus acted indiscriminately,
sometimes reaching the same nominations. The
public meeting preserved its place as the origin of
political action much later at the south, and the
extent of the states west and south of Virginia
left a political initiative to the county, which has
long survived, although the legislatures were in
all these states centres of political action. Inev-
itably, however, the condition of society on the
frontier rendered impossible methodical political
action. Nominations in Kentucky, in 1799, for a
constitutional convention and state legislature,
were “agreed upon ’’ in many counties by “com-
mittees of two from each religious society and
from each militia company ”; a combination of
religious and secular affairs in political organiza-
tion which had its analogue in Philadelphia at a
recent period in the cant political question, “Are
you a presbyterian or democratº” whose answer
opened more than one election fight. —In Virginia
a periodical Richmond caucus early in the cen-
tury decided on state nominations, and appointed
a committee of correspondence, which acted with
like committees in the counties. The action of
this legislative caucus was so strictly a matter of
state party government that in a presidential year,
as in 1812, it did not go beyond the nomination
of electors, and passed no resolutions expressing
a preference as to a candidate for president, or
enunciating a national platform, the “only test
laid down” in the selection of electors being “Will
he vote for Mr. Madison?” In Pennsylvania
nominations were made at this, time in the same
way, and party management vested in members
of the legislature. In Massachusetts, even as late
as 1826, the Jackson “corresponding committee,”
appointed by a meeting in Boston, deferred meet-
ing “until the legislature met, and a state con-
vention could be assembled,” steps in this direction
still hinging on the legislature. To party man-
agement the members of the legislature naturally
added the declaration of party policy and party
principles. The sphere which has been occupied
during the half century closing in 1880–90 by the
party platforms and the letters of candidates, was
earlier filled by addresses from state legislatures
on federal and state topics, taking a range and
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
115
appearing with a frequency since unnkown. For
nearly fifty years after the revolutionary war
these addresses Summed up the opposing political
doctrines of the day, and the members who signed
them managed the party organizations. Nor, in
comparisons between the personal character of
state legislatures at an earlier and later date, is it
fair to forget that membership in these bodies
fifty years ago gave the political control of party
nominations and party policy which has since
become vested in the party convention and its
“central committee.” Ability will always gravi-
tate where real power is exerted. This is exer-
cised to-day upon the floor of conventions, whose
members are quite as often hindered in their
influence as aided in their authority by a seat at
Washington or in a state capital. The control
exercised by the legislative caucus found its natu-
ral analogue in a like control over federal affairs
in the congressional caucus at Washington, whose
power was first challenged, not by the national
convention which succeeded it, but by the state
legislative caucus, which envied both the power of
‘the body at Washington and the preponderating
influence enjoyed in the councils of the meeting
at Washington by the Richmond caucus. Aaron
Burr's nomination as vice-president was the first
formal action taken by a caucus at Washington—
Jefferson’s selection being a foregone conclusion
—and Burr was nominated at the suggestion of
an Albany conference. By 1808 seventeen mem-
bers of the “republican " caucus at Washington
bolted its action on another suggestion from
Albany. State legislatures had begun, each on
its own account, to make presidential nomina-
tions, but holding their action subordinate to final
determination at Washington, precisely as in the
convention period state conventions present their
‘‘ favorite sons” to national conventions. The
objection to the congressional caucus as the mana-
ger of national politics had become so serious in
1812 that the call that year laid stress upon the
regular character of the assembly, while the reso-
lutions passed disclaimed any power in its mem-
bers to act except in a personal capacity. Albany
was, as usual, the first to break ground in a new
direction, and the republican legislative caucus
at Albany nominated De Witt Clinton ten days
(May 29, 1812) after Madison's nomination at
Washington. “One nomination,” said “Niles’
Register,” in commenting upon their action, “is
just as legitimate as the other.” The convention
which met at New York in September of the
same year, with a representation from eleven
states included in its membership, and which is
sometimes cited as the first nominating conven-
tion, was in fact a mass meeting held to approve,
or, in modern phrase, “indorse,” the nomination
made at Albany. Four years earlier a like assem-
blage held at “Martling’s ” styled itself a “general
meeting,” and, while approving by name state
nominations, in the address which it instructed its
committee of correspondence to “forward to re-
publicans of the United States,” exhorted them
to “Support such candidates for offices in the
general government as are regularly selected and
recommended by a republican majority of the
Union”; meaning, of course, the congressional
Caucus. – Party government had now reached a
Stage in which the congressional caucus, whose
power, though questioned, was supreme, carried
on the loose national organization of the day
through its standing committee of correspondence;
State legislatures did the same for state contests;
while an inchoate representative political body
did the like in the cities. The “general meeting”
had already become too cumbrous to carry on
party affairs in cities like New York, Philadel-
phia and Baltimore ; Boston was still a town
whose inhabitants enjoyed right of pasturage on
the common for thirty years later. Secret socie-
ties had been an earlier substitute for the mass
meeting, of which “Tammany, a society of the
Columbian order,” is the last lingering represent-
ative. The “democratic society,” organized in
Philadelphia during Washington's second term,
had its affiliated branches over Pennsylvania and
the neighboring states, extending to the outer
bounds of the Kentucky wilderness. Federal
politics in western Massachusetts and the region
about were for nearly a generation at this period
powerfully influenced, if not controlled, by a
Secret society which had affiliated branches in
New England and the middle states, and more
transient organizations existed elsewhere; all cir-
cumstances which played an important part in
giving edge to the anti-masonic movement. None
of these societies offered a basis for popular action
during a time when the number of voters was
yearly augmenting, quintupling in New York
state in thirty years; 57,606 in 1790, 259,387 in
1821. The committee of correspondence, which
each “general meeting ” left to continue political
action until another met, was gradually sup-
planted by ward organizations, first temporary,
then permanent. The great “general meeting”
which met, 12,000 strong, to approve Madison's
nomination and the prosecution of the war, in
Philadelphia, May, 1812, called ward caucuses to
appoint five delegates to a ‘‘general committee,”
which sat apparently for no other purpose than
a more formal and weighty declaration than was
possible in a tumultuous mass meeting. A similar
appeal to the primary was taken in Baltimore; but
the usual course with these large city meetings—
of which a number were held in these stormy
war times—was to approve existing nominations
made by state legislatures, and to appoint the
customary committee of correspondence. From
cities, counties and single districts representative
party government spread rapidly to the state,
while the term convention began to be employed.
for any “general meeting” which included mem-
bers of more than one place. The last nomina-
tion of the congressional caucus in 1824 made
plain the disappearance of its political power,
which had received a fatal blow eight years be-
fore. Eight years later the Albany caucus, which
116
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
had dealt this blow, alarmed at the growth of a
new political engine in the convention, called for
a revival of the congressional caucus as an escape
from the dangers of separate state nominations
for the presidency. The committee of corre-
spondence of the congressional caucus has sur-
vived in unbroken succession as the “congres-
sional campaign committee’’ of to-day, appointed
biennially in the joint caucuses of the senators
and representatives of each political party. The
influence of this body varies greatly with the
strength of the national committee and the ability
of its secretary and members. In a presidential
year the congressional campaign committee can
do little but distribute documents, the party in
power in either wing of the capitol using its
facilities, folding rooms, employés and what not,
for this purpose. In the intercalary congressional
election the powers of this committee are con-
siderable. It makes, or has made, the assessment
on officers, organizes the congressional campaign
where the party is weak, sometimes assumes to
decide between conflicting claimants for a regular
nomination, and furnishes doubtful districts with
their speakers and supplies; but in the practical
work of politics all this proves of less advantage
to party success than in furthering conflicting
intrigues within the party for the places in its
gift, in particular those which depend upon the
action of the party caucus in the house when
deciding upon its candidates for speaker and
other officers in the organization of the lower
chamber of the federal legislature. — The state
legislative caucus remained in full sway upon
the disappearance of its Washington rival; but
it was near its end. Presidential nominations
by state legislatures as a formal official act were
becoming more frequent, and paved the way for
a broader representation than a party legislative
caucus, in which the voters of the party living
in districts where it was in a minority had no
representation. The “convention ” of the day
was steadily widening its base and increasing
its influence, and what was of nearly equal im-
portance, ceased to be regarded as a dangerous or
revolutionary political tool. It is a familiar fact
that the legislature of Pennsylvania early lost the
high relative importance attached to state legisla-
tures and service in them in the post-revolutionary
period, and it was in this state that the nominating
convention first appeared in full action. A fruit-
less proposal for a national convention to make an
anti-slavery nomination against Monroe was made
in Philadelphia in 1820; in the previous four
years the nomination of state officers through a
convention consisting of delegates chosen by pub-
lic meetings had become familiar. In the decade
opening in 1820 this became the practice in Penn-
sylvania, beginning five years before the like in-
novation in New York state, ten years before it
was rooted in Massachusetts, and fifteen years
before the legislative caucus had disappeared in
Virginia, while in some western and southwestern
states it survived the first highly organized nation-
al campaign of our history in 1840. A conven-
tion held in Carlisle, Pa., in February, 1821, made
up of county delegates, which nominated Heister
in opposition to Gov. Findlay, was one of the
first state conventions on the modern plan, if not
the earliest. Six years earlier, Feb. 27, 1815,
when a “meeting of citizens from every part of
the state ’’ was “holden at Boston,” it confined
itself to an address to the independent electors of
Massachusetts, and only “confirmed ”the nomina-
tion of Caleb Strong and William Phillips, already
reached by a legislative caucus.-In general terms,
it may be said that, up to the slack-water politics
of Monroe's second election, the general meeting
in the centres of population, while it had been
widened by the presence of voters from other
parts of the state, assumed no strict representative
capacity, and left the initiative in politics to the
legislative caucus; but in the decade beginning
with 1820 two changes took place: state conven-
tions, embracing representatives from most of the
counties of the state, began to make state and
national nominations, and conventions for a special
purpose, embracing quasi delegates from many ,
states, began to formulate opinion on questions of
national politics, and out of these separate threads
was spun the national convention. So slowly did
this take place that, reckoning from the earliest
state convention of a representative character, it
was fifteen years before all the counties of a large
state were represented in a convention, and forty-
eight years before all the states were represent-
ed by national conventions. These early bodies
were, as was natural, IIlost loosely organized.
The Hartford convention, in spite of its official
character, received from New Hampshire dele-
gates elected by county meetings, and carelessness
of form or credential was still more characteristic
of the bodies which met at a later period to rep-
resent some particular form of national opinion.
Early" as these bodies assumed a representative
character, their systematic organization came more
slowly, and important political gatherings which
exerted a serious influence upon current party
policy were in fact nothing but voluntary as-
semblages of men chosen by no formal constitu-
ency. This was the case even with the protec-
tion convention which met at Harrisburg, upon
the call of the Pennsylvania legislature, July 30,
1827, delegates to which were elected by counties
in Pennsylvania. The address of the free trade
convention which met in Philadelphia Sept. 30,
1831, was accepted by Mr. Justice Story, in his
Commentaries, as an authoritative exposition
of the political views of the party denying con-
gress the right to levy protective duties; but the
convention itself met pursuant to a call issued
at the suggestion of the “New York Evening
Post”; the delegates, who voted singly and with
equal powers, represented States, cities, counties,
mass meetings and themselves; Mississippi being
“represented” by a single delegate, Mr. Pinck-
ney, a member of congress, and the proceedings
throughout point to a loose structure only possible
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
117
while the functions and methods of a political
Convention were still unformed. The like was
true of the protectionist convention which met in
the same year in New York, of the convention of
the friends of American industry held in Harris-
burg in 1824, and of most interstate conventions of
the day. In the first of the long series of conven-
tions dealing with the needs of the Mississippi
valley, which met at Memphis, Nov. 12, 1845, upon
a call issued by the Tennessee state legislature,
with John C. Calhoun as its presiding officer,
delegates from eleven states, one territory, Texas,
an independent power, St. Louis, and a number
of counties, all met and voted on a common basis.
In fact, the many interstate conventions which
met for a quarter of a century after the Hartford
convention, bore the same relation to the strictly
organized national conventions of the post-rebell-
ion period, that early parliaments sustain to the
completely organized body now at St. Stephens.—
In most states the convention had reached a com-
plete organization long before its representative
capacity was recognized. In 1820 the “republic-
an’’ legislative caucus at Albany, whose address
put Tompkins and Mooers in nomination in ac-
cordance with the “settled and approved ways.”
of the party, was met by a bolting caucus, whose
address dealt freely in the current charges of fraud
against Gov. Tompkins. In the ensuing four
years the constitution of 1821 added largely to the
voters of the state, and the popular convention
sprang into being under the control of the young
leaders in the central counties ‘‘ by the lakes,”
who were beginning, first as anti-masons, and later
as whigs, their struggle against the control of pol-
itics from Albany. In ten years, the new and
facile instrument of political action had driven
the legislative caucus out of existence. The first
conspicuous, but by no means the earliest, conven-
tion of the new order was an anti-masonic body,
which met in 1826, with Thurlow Weed as its
influential manager. It still took longer to go
from New York to Buffalo than in 1883 to go
from New York to San Francisco; and, in the
loose practice of the day, any man with interest
enough to take a week's journey to a political
convention was accepted as a representative, with
little scrutiny of his credentials, if any were re-
quired. Progress, however, toward a different
procedure, was rapid. Originating in a local call
in local newspapers to the ‘‘young men's repub-
lican clubs' through the state, the “republican
young men's convention,” which met at Utica
Aug. 12, 1828, and chose W. H. Seward as its
presiding officer, was a full-fledged political con-
vention, whose neat and rapid working shows
how early the hand of Thurlöw Weed learned its
cunning. Its record presents delegates elected
and ranged by counties, a temporary and perma-
nent organization, committees on credentials, or-
ganization and resolutions, appointed on the in-
stant by the chairman by congressional districts,
and its close presents a complete working machine.
Sentral corresponding committees of three were
named from each county, and these were instruct-
ed to complete the county organization by a com-
mittee of five in each town, while the general
conduct of affairs was intrusted to a “state cen-
tral corresponding committee” of twelve “to be
taken from the town of Utica and vicinity,” a
necessary concession to the practical difficulty of
bringing together a committee including members
scattered over a wider area. This convention
adopted a modern platform, tacking on a tariff
plank as an afterthought; but it made no nomi-
nations; approving those already made of Smith
Thompson and Francis Granger on the state, and
Adams and Rush on the federal ticket. Reso-
lutions were passed, but they did not as yet con-
stitute a comprehensive platform, and action upon
nominations was reached through the adoption of
a resolution—a practice which still survives in
many states in the apparently useless form of
adding to the platform an additional resolution
giving the names of the candidates who have
been put in nomination by the vivá voce choice of
the convention between several candidates. The
new form of party rule was already in full opera-
tion in Pennsylvania, where by 1823 the nomina-
tion of J. Andrew Shulye was reached in a
convention (March 4, 1823) only after five ballots;
but so loose was party organization that the state
committee appointed by the convention was at
this period in the habit of meeting only to call
another convention, interconvention political con-
trol vesting, as it had for so many years in “com-
mittees of correspondence ’’ appointed by general
meetings in the larger cities. In Massachusetts, at
the same period (Jan. 23, 1823), the first step was
taken toward a convention by adding to the “mass
meeting of republican members of both branches,”
delegates from “republican towns not repre-
sented in the legislature.” Five years later the
Jackson republicans in the state had fully organ-
ized on the convention plan, and both parties in
1832. In Virginia, where, as in New York, the op-
position seized on the convention in 1828, the rul-
ing legislative caucus extended its numbers in the
same method by adding representatives of coun-
ties where the party being in a minority had no
representatives in the legislature. Without enter-
ing into unnecessary detail, like changes took
place elsewhere, and by 1840 the legislative caucus
was everywhere confined to legislative issues.
“Conventions appointed by the people,” said
“Niles’ Register,” in 1827, of the coming change,
“appointed by the people for a specific purpose,
are not liable to the objections which apply to
legislative caucuses.” The result has not justified
the hope. — The national convention grew by the
same slow degrees. The disappearance of the
congressional caucus was not felt in the eight
apathetic years of Monroe's administration. The
nominations of state legislative caucuses, by di-
viding the electoral vote, led to the serious and
dangerous struggle of 1824, in which national
politics sank to its lowest personal plane. A
remedy was plainly necessary. A congressional
118
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
caucus had been considered a “republican tenet,”
and the powerful caucus at Albany in 1823, as in
1831, urged that one be held, while the Massachu-
setts caucus convention, which put forward John
Quincy Adams, deprecated the necessity of “nom-
inating a candidate for the presidency by assem-
blies in the states.” By 1827–8 it became plain
that no other course was open, and the combined
action of legislative caucuses and state conven-
tions, held in general on Jan. 8, 1828, placed
Jackson in the field, usually but not always, with
J. C. Calhoun as candidate for vice-president. In
Virginia this was done by a convention made up
of fourteen senators, 157 members of the house
of delegates, and twenty-three special deputies,
representing in all ninety-six counties out of 109.
In North Carolina and New Jersey the counties
elected delegates to a nominating convention, as
did the anti-Jackson men in Virginia; in Pennsyl-
vania and New York a legislative caucus acted,
and in the former a convention filled out the
electoral ticket ; in Vermont a “convention of
freemen’’ made a presidential nomination, and
“ certain citizens of Batavia, New York,” did the
same. The preliminary party struggle presented,
in short, every form of party action. Four years
later it was clear that the concerted action between
the states which had given Jackson's canvass such
momentum could best be reached by a national
convention. A congressional caucus better suited
the Albany regency, and they pleaded for one
without effect. All parties adopted the conven-
tion; but Jackson's friends in New York, Penn-
sylvania, Virginia, Ohio, Tennessee, Georgia and
South Carolina, endeavored, in the last instance
fruitlessly, to secure a nomination from a legisla-
tive caucus, while Clay’s friends obtained like
action in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Louisiana,
Kentucky and Maryland. The convention was
at this period the favorite device of the opponents
of the administration, and their national conven-
tion was the best organized, although the selection
of its delegates was made by loose methods which
early disappeared. The whig convention, which
met in Baltimore, Dec. 12, 1831, was called by a
caucus of the Maryland legislature. This call
proposed a representation for each state equal
to that enjoyed in the electoral college, and sug-
gested, but did not require, the election of dele-
gates by congressional districts. In Maine and
Pennsylvania this was done; in New Hampshire
a legislative caucus chose delegates; in Massachu-
setts “a convention of 200 members’ acted for
the state in expressing a presidential choice, be-
sides making state nominations; in Connecticut
harmonious action was taken by a legislative cau-
cus and a state convention, the districts, in addi-
tion, choosing their own delegates; in New York
a state convention chose the entire state delega-
tion of two at large and one for each congres-
sional district; while Maryland and most of the
southern states acted through conventions. These
irregular elections were order itself compared with
the loose election of delegates to the democratic
convention which nominated Andrew Jackson
and Martin Van Buren, at Baltimore, May 23,
1832, where the vote of Pennsylvania was cast
by a group of Self-appointed delegates. At these
early national conventions each delegate cast one
vote, except as a vote by states was required, when
the electoral apportionment came into play, and
the rule requiring a two-thirds majority in making
a nomination was adopted by the democratic con-
vention of 1832. This rule was re-enacted by the
democratic convention which met at Baltimore,
May 20, 1835, and has become the common law
of the party in its national conventions and in
many state and county democratic conventions in
the south. At the same time the unit rule, giving
each state delegation the right to cast its entire
state vote as a majority of its members should
direct, was also adopted, and, like the other, has
gained the sanction of unbroken democratic
usage. In whig and republican conventions nei-
ther of these rules has obtained, although an
effort to enforce the last led to a long and bitter
struggle in the republican national convention
at Chicago, in June, 1880. — As late as 1852 the
call for a democratic national convention treated
a congressional caucus of democratic congressmen
as one basis for the summons; and the action of
the whig Washington caucus, met to nominate a
speaker in 1851, was expected to furnish the com-
mon grounds on which northern and Southern
whigs could meet in a “nationalized convention.”
These were the last traces of congressional influ-
ence in the highly organized body which has
now, in the practical selection of a president,
taken the place of the electoral college, the con-
ventions of the two parties naming the two can-
didates to whom voters are of necessity restricted.
It was forty years, 1831 to 1872, from the first.
national convention until one met in which all
the states and territories were represented ; but.
the work of organization is now completed, and
the only change in party organization lies in the
direction of greater safeguards about the caucus.
or primary in which the first delegates are se-
lected, who in successive stages choose delegates.
to the conventions above. As it is no intention
of this article to give a history of American poli-
tics, a further account of the working of the Con-
vention is unnecessary. It will be sufficient to
describe the general working of party govern-
ment. — Precedent, custom, and the slow, unwrit-
ten development of representative party govern-
ment, render it impossible to make any general ex-
position of the present system which will not be
subject to many exceptions. On the one hand, in
the loosely settled south and extreme west, Self-
nomination is still in use for all subordinate and
local offices without the interposition of a conven-
tion, and the canvass is conducted by the personal
solicitation of candidates, the work of the hust-
ings being unchanged, but spread over wearisome
square leagues of territory, instead of being con-
centrated around a polling booth. State officers.
are now nominated in all states by conventions,
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
119
but where a system of permanent local nominat-
ing bodies does not exist, the state convention
still partakes largely of the character of a legisla-
tive caucus, and the county convention is a meet-
ing of the narrow group which carries on the
government of each county at its court house;
political action being largely confined to state
and county office-holders. On the other hand,
in nearly all cities of over 100,000 in popula-
tion, and in some, like Albany, still smaller,
local political action and representation in state
conventions are decided by a continuous political
organization which in each party holds annual
primaries, not to send delegates to a convention,
but to choose the members of its governing body,
ordinarily known as a “general committee.”
This body is self-elective under the thinly dis-
guised forms of popular selection in primaries.
Highly organized state conventions, like those in
New York, find themselves unable, after years
of effort, to break through this organization of
office-holders and tax-eaters to reach the voters
on whom party action should rest. In addition,
while the theory of American party government
contemplates the convention as coming fresh
from the spontaneous initiative of the people, in
fact it has become in many states, and is tending
to become in all, a body which receives its initia-
tive from the standing state central committee.
This body, in New York and several of the
larger states, has a member to each congressional
district, the delegates to the state convention
from these districts meeting apart in groups to
select the committeeman from the district. In
Pennsylvania and a number of other states the
districts electing to the upper state chamber are
the basis of membership. As the apportionment
of conventions is in general by the party vote,
and these districts are laid out by population, in
the republican party the allotment of members
of the state central committee by these districts
gives the centres of population a preponderance
in the permanent committee which they do not
possess in the convention, and do not contribute
in elections to the voting strength of the party.
The one exception is in Pennsylvania, where the
city vote is republican.
ganizes, immediately after its appointment, by the
selection of a chairman and secretary, with whom
are associated from three to five members as an
executive committee. Unless some extraordinary
exigency arises, like the resignation of a nomi-
nee, vacancies on the ticket being usually filled
by the committee, the state committee does not
meet until it issues the call for the next conven-
tion. The executive committee of five or seven
is through the campaign the real centre of party
management, and the actual work of party direc-
tion devolves on the chairman and secretary.
The first is nearly always a man of wealth, with a
taste for politics and skill in intrigue; the second
attends to the manifold details of the campaign,
and is assisted by a corps of clerks in the work of
issuing assessments to the office-holders of the
The state committee or-
the patient, continuous work of years.
party, distributing documents, and conducting
the wide and varied correspondence of a political
headquarters. The chairman, the secretary and
the executive committee constitute, therefore, a
quasi party ministry, selected by the party parlia-
ment or convention. The delicate work of rais-
ing and distributing funds, of making engage-
ments for speakers, of arranging local disputes,
of watching over the interests of the state nomi-
nees, of arranging the “trades” and “deals" by
which great masses of votes are secured in the
large cities, or smaller schemes of corruption pre-
pared in the rural districts, is all in the hands of
these managers, to whom, if they are fit for their
work, run all the threads of political intrigue. In
a large state, where hundreds of local officers are
chosen, besides state officers and the legislature,
the candidates in the field will be between 1,500
and 2,000, and it is the first business of the officers
of a state committee to know the strength, the
motives, the support and the character of each of
these candidates. Aside from a laborious canvass
of the voters, school district by school district,
which even in large states often accounts for all
but 5 or 6 per cent. of the vote, minute informa-
tion is gleaned in great central states as to the
precise political condition of each polling district
over a territory a quarter as large as France.
Supplemental to the regular party machinery of
a state committee, congressional, district, county,
city, town and ward committees, an astute man-
ager, like Mr. Tilden, will have from three to five
correspondents in each election district of a state, .
making, in a state like New York, from 12,000 to
15,000 persons whose addresses are registered,
and whose standing is known. To the general
observer, an American political contest is a seeth-
ing battle, in which the noise of the captains and
their shouting, charges and counter-charges, the
din of speakers and the clatter of newspapers,
work their way to an unexpected result. To the
few managers who attain success in the conduct
of a campaign, even a great state like Ohio, New
York, Indiana or Pennsylvania lies clearly map-
ped to its uttermost bounds, and a host of signs
indicate from day to day the drift of public feel-
ing and the intentions of voters, the plans of can-
didates and the purposes of the opposition. —
The minute personal acquaintance which makes
this knowledge forcible, constitutes the real
strength of the “machine” in American politics,
which, like all organization that produces real
results, is not a venal accident, but the fruit of
The men
who make up the party ministry, intrusted with
its direction, are not speakers, for speaking would
be wasted on their work; nor political thinkers,
for their object is not to carry out a policy, but to
win an election. They are generally almost un-
known to the public, and they have all the Con-
tempt of the professional expert for amateurs in
their chosen field. Beginning with the careful
management of a ward, they have risen by the
rude natural selection of political strife; and con-
120
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
ventions, while they often make mistakes in can-
didates, rarely blunder in their selection of man-
agers. Inevitably, by the time the members of
an executive committee, and still more the chair-
man and secretary, have “run” a campaign, par-
ticularly a successful campaign, their influence
is felt and their personality known throughout
the party organization. The next summer, when
the state committee meets, and issues a call for
the next convention, which will select its succes-
Sor, the managers are in a vastly better position
to touch the springs of party action and secure a
convention to their liking than any one else. Nor
does this control of the convention end with the
election of delegates. In theory, each conven-
tion is still a public meeting which organizes it-
self; in practice, by unwritten law now almost
invariably followed, the chairman of the state
committee, acting as its representative, calls the
convention to order, and proposes the “tempo-
rary” chairman. This chairman, whose election
is so much a matter of course that in New York
state, for instance, the selection of another chair-
man has occurred only once in both parties for
twenty-five years, appoints the crucial committees
on a permanent organization and on credentials;
the one decides the officers of the convention,
and the other its roll. While formally made by
the “temporary” chairman, these committees
are actually selected by the state committee,
each of its members naming one for his con-
gressional or state senatorial district. To per-
sonal influence with the party organization in
the selection of delegates, the state committee,
and particularly its executive committee, add,
therefore, a profound influence in directing the
action and determining the character of the con-
vention, while it is still an inchoate body. If
state and other conventions sat, as legislatures do,
for a term of months, the discovery of debate
would disclose other leaders; but conventions
very rarely sit over two days, and usually only
one. The practical result is, that acquaintance
and knowledge of men, acquired beforehand, is
everything in the swift canvass and rapid combi-
nations of twenty-four hours. In all this, the cam-
paign manager has an overpowering advantage.
He accomplishes his results in the brief and wake-
ful night, while his amateur opponent is marshal-
ing his forces and ascertaining on whom he can
depend. The wonder is, not that the machine
wins, but that it is ever beaten.—A comprehensive
union of the scattered members of party organi-
zation has never yet been successfully attempted.
It was proposed in 1880 by the national democratic
committee, that in future the chairmen of state
committees should be elected to membership in
its ranks, that the members of state committees
should preside over district committees, and so on
down; but this artificial plan collapsed at the
start through the natural jealousy of state mana-
gers. In both parties each series of committees
acts independently in its own sphere. In the
presidential election the national executive com-
mittee overshadows all the rest, but its immediate
efforts are confined to doubtful states; the state
executive committee in like manner is most active
and exerts the widest influence where party suc-
cess is most doubtful; and, while least is heard
of them by the general public, and least known
except by politicians, the little local committees
which “run” a ward or township are the most
vital and permanent of all. An organization,
adopted in 1882 by the democratic party in Penn-
sylvania, has carried party evolution in a state
to its last form in the United States by linking
the state committee to these local bodies through
a provision that each county Organization, with
an apportionment based on state Senatorial dis-
tricts, shall elect a member to the state committee.
This body has, therefore, become permanent and
independent of the state convention, the party
having provided itself, by a curious and uncon-
scious imitation of the federal government, with
a permanent executive. Add to this the progress
made in some rural Pennsylvania counties in
bringing 90 to 95 per cent. of the registered party
voters to the polls in choosing the county organi-
zation, and it will be seen that this state, as in
1820–30, has probably anticipated the inevitable
path of party development elsewhere. —I. The
National Convention. The call for a national
convention in all organized parties is issued by
the national committee, a body consisting, in the
democratic party, of a member from each state,
and, in the republican party, of a member from
each state and territory. In both cases this mem-
ber has been selected by the delegation from each
state or territory at the preceding national Con-
vention. The organization of the committee
takes place immediately after the convention, its
choice of a chairman and executive committee is
usually greatly influenced by the wishes of the
presidential candidate, and to this select body is
generally committed the immediate conduct of a
presidential campaign. After the campaign is
over, the committee rarely meets until it assembles
to call the next convention. Its membership is
generally, not always, made up of men both of
wealth and political influence, as a campaign as-
sessment is expected from each member, and a
large sum from the chairman; in the two cam-
paigns, 1876 and 1880, $25,000 or more in each
party. The call names the time, place and ap-
portionment of the convention. In a republican
convention the call provides for a body twice the
size of the electoral college, with two delegates
from each territory. In a democratic national
convention, down to 1880, the number of delegates
was an indifferent matter, each state delegation
casting a vote equal to its electoral vote; but as
the delegates are in general twice this number,
and are not always required to act as a unit, half-
votes result, being the choice of single delegates.
In 1880 each state was directed to send twice its
electoral representation. The republican national
convention in 1880 directed its national committee
to prepare before the next national convention a
PARTY GOVERNMENT IN THE UNITED STATES.
121
plan for the apportionment of representation in
future conventions by district representation and
upon the party vote. Twice in a republican
convention the candidate has been decided by the
vote of territorial delegates, whose votes carried
R. B. Hayes in 1876, and J. A. Garfield in 1880,
across the majority line. The national committee,
in whose meetings written proxies are by usage
allowed, besides issuing the call, decides the pro-
visional roll of the convention pending organiza-
tion, and passes in this way upon contests, provides
the temporary organization, and has charge of
the approaches to the convention—three most im-
portant prerogatives. In republican conventions
the adoption of a platform precedes the choice of
a candidate; in democratic conventions it succeeds
the nomination. In both, while the term “ballot.”
is used, the voting for candidates is vivá voce, the
“chairman * of each delegation announcing the
numerical vote of his state. If this is questioned
in a republican convention, the roll of the con-
vention can be called by the secretary of the
convention. In democratic conventions it is the
rule, not without exceptions, to treat the action
of a delegation as final; and a majority of one, if
the delegation be instructed to vote as a unit, is
permitted to direct the entire vote of the largest
state. The theory of the republican convention
is, that the delegates standing for congressional
districts are chosen by those districts, either di-
rectly by conventions in them or by the delegates
from those districts to the state convention, acting
as a separate group; the state convention merely
certifying this result, the selection and control of
the state convention being limited to the four
delegates-at-large apportioned by each state. This
theory was questioned by the supporters of ex-
President Grant’s nomination in 1880; but the
convention established district representation as
the common law of the party. The democratic
national convention is, on the other hand, organ-
ized upon the theory that the entire state delega-
tion is appointed and controlled by the state
convention, which acts for the party in the state
as a whole. Its instructions are therefore manda-
tory, and are so recognized by the party conven-
tion. In both parties the call for the national
convention is followed by a call issued by each
state committee for a state convention, to choose
delegates. In New England, and in some of the
western states, each district chooses its pair of
delegates, and the state convention chooses the
state delegates-at-large ; but in a majority of
states the work is done at a single convention, the
delegates from each district presenting their
choice, and the convention passing on the entire
list. Inflexible usage requires residence, within
a state or district, of their delegates, who are in
general a picked body of most able men, aver-
aging above the level of congressmen. The im-
portance of the issue, the size and character of the
assemblage, the immense throng of spectators,
and the rapidity of its decisions, make a national
Convention the most imposing and interesting
with the previous convention.
body in American politics. – II. The State Con-
0.67%tºon. State conventions have been held since
the war by each party before every general elec-
tion, for the nomination of state candidates and
the adoption of a platform, and, as above stated,
Once in four years, to choose delegates to a
national convention. The call is in all cases
issued by the state central committee, originating
The powers of a
state committee over the preliminaries of a state
convention are like those described above in na-
tional affairs. In addition, in New York state, the
State committee names the committee which re-
ports a permanent organization. The guard of a
state committee over the hall in which a regular
convention sits is sometimes insufficient to prevent
its forcible capture, as in the New York democratic
convention in 1859, and the Massachusetts demo-
cratic convention in 1878. The control of a state
committee will not convert a minority in a con-
vention" into a majority; but it is invaluable in
enabling a small and brittle majority to carry out
the wishes of skillful leaders by giving it a defi-
nite course to pursue. The apportionment of del-
egates to a state convention is still, in a major-
ity of the states, upon the basis of the lower
branch of the state legislature; but in many states,
as in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Massachusetts,
Ohio, Illinois, etc., in both parties, and in New
York and most other states, in the republican
party, an apportionment is based upon the last
party vote. The size of state conventions varies
from 1,200 to 1,400 in New Jersey to small bodies
of between 100 and 200; the average being be-
tween 300 and 500. Substitutes are always per-
mitted; and as late as 1883 the state democratic
convention in Ohio contained county delegations
on the “mass system,” a large number of voters
coming en masse from a county and casting its
apportioned vote in the convention. —III. Local
Party Government. The county convention in
rural districts consists of delegates from the towns,
and is, in its county committee and general work-
ing, a miniature of the state party machinery,
and needs no special description. Conventions
and committees exist, likewise, for congressional
districts, and while conventions meet for every
possible nomination, a standing committee is in-
frequently appointed by these bodies. A sketch
of local party machinery in New York city is
given in the article on CAUCUS. Primaries for
the purpose of providing permanent party ma-
chinery, aside from those held to select delegates
to nominating conventions, are also held by the
republican party in Philadelphia, and by the
democratic party in Jersey City, N. J., and in
Albany, N. Y., in each case leading to the cor-
rupt control of party machinery, while a party
democratic registry exists in South Carolina.
In addition to the network of districts thrown
over an American city, Philadelphia and New
York are, for instance, divided into congressional,
state, senatorial and representative, aldermanic
and judicial districts, besides electing county and
122
PATENT OFFICE.
city officers. Taking both parties together, from
fifty to sixty conventions are held in each of these
cities on the eve of an important election. None
but professional politicians are able either to
understand or follow this complicated mill for
grinding out candidates, and a permanent local
organization relieves the busy citizen of all con-
cern in the matter by providing him with a choice
between two equally bad nominations. – As a
result, the final evolution of party government in
the United States has been the appearance in city
politics of self-appointed committees, of which
the Philadelphia “committee of 100” is a most
conspicuous instance, made up of leading mer-
chants who have assumed political control, “in-
dorsing ” party nominations, furnishing tickets
and workers at the polls, prosecuting repeaters,
conducting long investigations into city offices,
and securing the passage of needed legislation.
The downfall of Tweed was in great measure
due to such a committee, the “committee of
70,” and the appearance in American politics
of such committees has so far uniformly been for
góod. They are in general accepted as more
closely expressing the popular will than city Con-
ventions, and in time such committees are likely to
play a wider part. Simple as American party gov-
ernment appears in this outline, it must be remem-
bered that it places the voter at many removes
from the exercise of power. In dealing with a
presidential nomination, the voter, for instance,
shares in choosing delegates to a ward convention,
which chooses delegates to a city or county con-
vention, which sends delegates to a state conven-
tion, which names the delegates who name the
candidate. The surprise is, that the popular will
is felt at all through these removes, no one of
which has the guarantee of law save the first in
some states, and the action of nominating conven-
tions in Ohio, where bribery in such conventions
is made a crime. TALCOTT WILLIAMS.
PARTY NAMES IN U. S. HISTORY. (See
AMERICAN PARTY, ANTI-FEDERAL PARTY, ANTI-
MASONIC PARTY, CONSTITUTIONAL UNION PARTY,
DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN PARTY, FEDERAL PAR-
TY, GREENBACK-LABOR PARTY, LIBERAL-REPUB-
LICAN PARTY, REPUBLICAN PARTY, WHIG PARTY.)
PATENT OFFICE. Although the issue of
American patents is nearly coeval with the gov-
ernment of the United States, the first creation of
the patent office, with a commissioner of patents,
dates from the year 1836. Prior to that date
patents were issued directly by the department of
state. By act of July 4, 1836, an office denomi-
nated the patent office was created, to be attached
to the department of state, and a fire-proof build-
ing for its use was provided for. The chief
officer, styled the commissioner of patents, was
required to perform all acts touching the granting
of patents for new and useful inventions, with a
salary of $3,000, and seven clerks.
to be signed by the secretary of state, and coun-
Patents were
tersigned by the commissioner. The number of
patents issued in the earlier years was very small,
varying, from 1837 to 1847, from about 400 to
600 per annum; but since 1865 the business has
enormously increased, until now the number of
patents annually issued is about 16,000, with fees.
(averaging $35 for each patent) amounting to
about $800,000 per annum. The patent office is
not only Self-supporting, the fees paying all run-
ning expenses, with the salaries of some 350 clerks,
but it actually pays into the treasury of the United
States an annual surplus of about $200,000. It
has been urged with some force, that the inventors
of the country should not be taxed beyond the
actual cost of administering the business con-
nected with the registry of patents, and that a
large reduction of patent fees ought in equity to
be made. — By the act of 1836 patents were
granted for fourteen years, with the right of ex-
tension for seven years longer, at the discretion of
the commissioner of patents. In 1861 the law
now in force was enacted, making the term of
original patents seventeen years; and no extension
for patents granted since March 2, 1861, is allowed
except by special act of congress. A very few
patents have been thus renewed, and many more
have been asked for, upon the plea of insufficient
remuneration to their owners. The last patents.
extendable by the patent office expired in 1875. —
The commissioner of patents is appointed by the
president and senate for no definite term of office,
with a salary of $4,500. He is aided by an assist-
, ant commissioner (salary, $3,000) three examiners-
in-chief (salary, $3,000 each), one examiner of
interferences (salary, $2,500) and twenty-five ex-
aminers (salary, $2,400 each), each of the twenty-
five having charge of one of the following distinct
classes of inventions: 1, agriculture; 2, agricult-
ural products; 3, metallurgy, brewing and gas;
4, civil engineering; 5, fine arts; 6, chemistry; 7,
harvesters; 8, household; 9, hydraulics and pneu-
matics; 10, carriages, wagons and cars; 11, leather-
working machinery and products; 12, mechanical
engineering; 13, metal-working, class A.; 14, metal,
working, class B; 15, plastics; 16, philosophical;
17, printing and paper manufacturing; 18, steam
engineering; 19, calorifics, stoves and lamps; 20,
builders’ hardware, locks and surgery; 21, fabrics
and textile machinery; 22, fire-arms, navigation,
signals and wood-working; 23, trade marks and
labels; 24, designs and sewing machines; 25,
milling. Besides these, there are about 300
assistant examiners, clerks, messengers, etc., the
annual salaries of the office reaching $537,000 per
annum.—The commissioner of patents is required
to make an annual report of the business of the
office, with a list of patents issued during the year.
This valuable series of reports began with 1837,
and for a series of years included a report upon
arts and manufactures and upon agriculture in
one annual volume. With the year 1849 began
the issue of the agricultural report in a separate
volume, which was continued until 1861, after
which the commissioner of patents no longer
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
123
issued an agricultural report, the department of
agriculture having been created in 1862. The
series of patent office reports, issued annually with
Specifications and [sometimes] drawings, was con-
tinued until 1871 (the set, 1837–71, numbering
sixty-five volumes on Arts and Manufactures, and
thirteen volumes on Agriculture), after which the
method of publication of patents was radically
changed, the annual reports being succeeded by
the following publications: 1. Specifications and
Drawings of Patents issued from the United
States Patent Office, May 30, 1871, to December,
1883. Of these, 196 volumes in quarto (weekly
for the first year, monthly from July, 1872,) have
been issued. 2. Official Gazette of the United
States Patent Office (weekly) January, 1872, to
December, 1883, 24 vols. 8vo. This contains
the full list of patents, decisions in patent cases,
etc., with drawings in reduced size. 3. Annual
Report of the Commissioner of Patents. These
contain, since 1872, a bare list or index of patents
annually issued, without specifications or draw-
ings, but with references to the Official Gazette
and monthly volumes of specifications, and a
statement of the aggregate business of the office
for the calendar year. Besides these, the office
has issued a “Subject-matter Index of Patents
for Inventions issued by the U. S. Patent Office
from 1790 to 1873,” 3 vols., Washington, 1873.
There should also be noted as covering the com-
paratively small record of inventive art from
1790 to 1837, “A List of Patents granted by the
U. S. from April 10, 1790, to Dec. 31, 1836, with
Appendix of Reports of the Patent Office in 1823,
1830 and 1831,” 8vo., Washington, 1872. Pam-
phlets containing the patent laws, the rules of
practice in the patent office, etc., are furnished to
all applicants. – The patent office building was
burned in December, 1836, with the models accu-
mulated, many of which were replaced by act of
congress. Again, in 1877, a part of the office,
with several thousand models, was destroyed by
fire, but the loss was largely repaired by the
manufacture of new models. – On the creation
of the department of the interior in 1849, the
patent office was transferred to that department,
where it now remains, all patents being signed by
the secretary of the interior, and countersigned
by the commissioner of patents. The patent
office, with its vast accumulation of 275,000
models, occupies the larger portion of the great
marble building known as the interior depart-
ment. The arrangement and display of models
of patents in its long halls is extensive and inter-
esting, and the heavy additions of each year will
soon require much more space than is now at
command. — The following is a list of commis-
sioners of patents, with the commencement of the
term of service of each:
©
1. Henry L. Ellsworth---------------------- July 4, 1836
2. Edmund Burke-------------------------- May 5, 1845
3. Thomas Ewbank------------------------- May 9, 1849
4. Silas H. Hodges ------------------------- Nov. 1, 1852
5. Charles Mason--------------------------- March 24, 1853
6. Joseph Holt ----------------------------- Sept. 9, 1857
7. William D. Bishop---------------------- May 7, 1859
8. Philip F. Thomas----------------------- Feb. 15, 1860
9. David P. Holloway --------------------- March 28, 1861
10. Thomas C. Theaker--------------------- Aug. 15, 1865
11. Elisha Foote---------------------------- July 28, 1868
13, Samuel S. Fisher------------------------ May 1, 1869
13. Mortimer D. Leggett-------------------- Jan. 16, 1871
14. John M. Thacher ----------------------- Nov. 1, 1874
15, R. Holland Duell ----------------------- Oct. 1, 1875
16, Ellis Spear------------------------------ Jan. 30, 1877
17. Halbert E. Paine------------------------ Nov. 1, 1878
18. Edgar M. Marble------------------------ May 7, 1880
19. Benjamin Butterworth------------------ Oct. 26, 1883.
A. R. SPOFFORD.
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
The patent system has assumed during the nine-
teenth century an important office in the economy
of modern industrial communities. Its develop-
ment is closely interwoven with the phenomenal
material progress and the immense extension of
applied science which distinguish that period.
Especially has this system been identified with
the extraordinary development of the physical
resources of the United States. The patent laws.
have been extended and improved to meet or antici-
pate the wants of the growing nation, and now, in
its more modernform, the patent system may almost
be said to be a peculiarly American institution. It
is estimated that at present more than two-fifths of
the world’s important inventions originate in the
United States. The records of our patent office are
sought for and studied by the inventors and the sci-
entists of every nation, and the wisdom of our ad-
vanced patent policy is almost universally admit-
ted. Sir William Thomson said, in 1876: “If Eu-
rope does not amend its patent laws “ ” Amorica.
will speedily become the nursery of important
inventions for the world.” No feature of Our fed-
eral system has been proven of greater economic
importance than the patent system. It will be
treated, as fully as the limits of this article will
permit, under the following heads: I. History of
the System in England and America; II. The
Existing American Patent Law, and the Proce-
dure under it; III. The General Policy of a Sys-
tem of Patent Laws; IV. Changes in the Exist-
ing Law which would be desirable; W. Foreign
Patent Laws. – I. HISTORY. 1. In England.
The origin of the patent system has been re-
motely traced to the guild monopolies which were
a dominant feature of the urban industries of
mediaeval Europe. In its modern aspect and
theory, however, the system bears no resemblance
to the exclusive and grasping trades customs
which brought the guilds into reproach; and it
is generally conceded that the existing practice
of letters patent for inventions is distinctively
English in its origin. The form of the grant of
a patent of invention can be directly traced to the
exercise of the ancient prerogative of the English
crown in its grants of exclusive privileges. The
arbitrary and indiscriminate exercise of this pre-,
rogative resulted in the oppressive and galling
monopolies which were abolished in the constitu-
tional struggles of the seventeenth century. The
grant of monopolies for inventions, on the other
hand, seems always to have been regarded as just
124
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
and constitutional. These were excepted from
the sweeping prohibitions of the great statute of
monopolies, enacted in 1624; and upon the provi-
sos of that act there has been reared the modern
English patent system, which in its essential fea-
tures has been extended into nearly every civilized
state. — The earliest recorded exercise of the
prerogative of the English crown, in a manner
analogous to the grant of a patent, was the grant
by Edward III. to two aldermen of a patent of
privilege that they and their assigns should have
the sole making of the philosopher's stone. Priv-
ileges of this nature, although rare at this early
period, seem not to have been considered anoma-
lous, for it is stated in a case reported in the Year
Book, part iv., 40, Edw. III., fol. 17, 18, that arts
and sciences which are for the public good are
greatly favored in the law, and the king, as
chief guardian of the common weal, has power
and authority by his prerogative to grant many
privileges, although prima facie they appear to
be clearly against common right. On the other
hand, the early popular and judicial disapproval
of mere monopolies is shown by the fact, that
about the end of the reign of Edward III., John
Peechie, of London, was severely punished for
procuring a license under the great seal for the
exclusive sale of sweet wines in London. (3 Inst.,
181.) Two centuries later, grants of patents, as
well as of mere monopolies, had become less un-
usual. The reports of cases decided in the reign
of Elizabeth contain dicta from which it appears,
that, by the beginning of the seventeenth century,
the English lawyers and judges had attained to
something approaching the modern conception of
patents. In the ninth year of Elizabeth a patent
was granted to a Mr. Hastinges of the sole trade
for several years of making frisadoes, in consid-
eration that he had brought the method of making
them from Amsterdam. This patent was consid-
ered valid until it was shown that some clothiers
had, before its date, made baize of a similar ma-
terial. (Noy Rep., 182.) In another case decided
in this reign, a patent having been granted for the
sole and only use of a sieve, or instrument for
melting lead, it was said in the court of exchequer
chamber, that the question was, whether it was
newly invented by the grantee, whereby he might
have the privilege of exclusive power over it, or
else used before, in which case they were of
opinion that he should not have the sole use of it.
(Noy Rep., 183.) But the strongest of these
early cases is Darcy vs. Allein, decided 44 Eliza-
beth, which contains the following: “Where any
man by his own charge or industry, or by his own
wit or invention, brings any new trade into the
realm, or any engine tending to the furtherance
of a trade, that never was used before; and that
for the good of the realm; in such cases the king
may grant to him a monopoly patent for some
reasonable time, until the subjects may learn the
same, in consideration of the good that he doth
bring, by his invention, to the commonwealth;
otherwise not.” — These cases contain the com-
mon law germs of our existing systems of patent
law. In the next reign was passed (1624) the
statute of monopolies, which seems to be the first
statutory recognition of patents for inventions, as
it is also the final parliamentary denunciation of
mere monopolies. The proviso of this statute,
which is still the foundation of English patent
law, is as follows: “Provided, also, and be it
enacted, that any declaration before mentioned
shall not extend to any letters patent and grants
of privileges for the term of fourteen years or
under, hereafter to be made, of the sole working
and making of any manner of new manufacture
within the realm, to the true and first inventor or
inventors of such manufacture, which others at
the time of making such letters patent shall not
use, so as also they be not contrary to law, or
hurtful of trade, or generally inconvenient.”
This statute is regarded as merely declaratory of
the common law, and the following essentials of a
valid patent are enumerated by Sir Edward Coke
in his “Institutes”: “First, it must be for the
term of fourteen years or under. Secondly, it
must be granted to the first and true inventor.
Thirdly, it must be of such manufactures, which
any other at the making of such letters patents did
not use; for albeit it were newly invented, yet if
any other did use it at the making of the letters pat-
ents, or grant of the priviledge, it is declared and
enacted to be void by this act. Fourthly, the priv-
iledge must not be contrary to law: such a privi-
ledge as is consonant to law, must be substantially
and essentially newly invented; but if the substance
was in esse before, and a new addition thereunto,
though that addition make the former more profit-
able, yet is it not a new manufacture in law; and
so it was resolved in the exchequer chamber,
Pasch, 15 Eliz., in Bircot's case for a priviledge
concerning the preparing and melting, etc., of
lead ore; for there it was said, that that was to
put but a new button to an old coat; and it is
much easier to adde then to invent. And there it
was also resolved, that if the new manufacture
be substantially invented according to law, yet no
old manufacture in use can be prohibited. Fifth-
ly, nor mischievous to the state by raising of
prices of commodities at home. In every such
new manufacture that deserves a priviledge, there
must be urgens necessitas, and evidens utilitas.
Sixthly, nor to the hurt of trade. This is very
material and evident. Seventhly, nor generally
inconvenient. There was a new invention found
out heretofore that bonnets and caps might be
thickened in a filling mill, by which means more
might be thickened and filled in one day then by
the labours of fourscore men, who got their livings
by it. It was ordained that bonnets and caps
should be thickened and fulled by the strength of
men, and not in a fulling mill, for it was holden
inconvenient to turn so many labouring men to
idlenesse. If any of these seven qualities fail, thé
priviledge is declared and enacted to be void by
this act, * * and yet this act maketh them no
better then they should have been, if this act had
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
125
never been made, but only except and exempt
them out of the purvieu and penalty of this law.”
(Coke, 3 Inst., 184.) — In spite of its crude eco-
nomic notions, this commentary is an interesting
and instructive epitome of the early English pat-
ent law. It throws light upon the origin of not
a few of the legal doctrines which are the foun-
dation of the patent laws of more modern times.
Moreoverit may be regarded as embodying nearly
all of what continued to be the learning in this
branch of jurisprudence for more than a century
and a half after Coke's time. The system con-
tinued in a comparatively rudimentary condition
until near the end of the last century. One or
two incidents in its history should, however, be
noticed. In 1639 a proclamation was issued,
abolishing “all patents for new inventions not
put in practice from the date of their respective
grants.” A still more important change was
effected during Queen Anne's reign. Prior to
this time the only recorded description of the
invention or discovery protected by patent, was
contained in a few words, giving merely the name
of the process or the purpose of the invention.
But about this time the practice was introduced,
appearing first in Hill's patent granted in 1713, of
requiring a patentee to cause a specification or
complete description of his invention “to be in-
rolled in Her Majestie's High Court of Chancery”
within a certain time, generally two or three
months, of the date of the patent. This practice
ultimately became general; and the theory then
arose that the grant of a patent constituted a sort
of contract between the patentee and the state,
whereby the patentee was protected in the exclu-
sive practice of his invention in consideration
of his furnishing in the specification a complete
description of his invention for the public benefit
after the expiration of his patent. The specifica-
tions of some of the earlier patents throw a curi-
ous light upon the economic notions of the people.
Weisenthal’s specification (1755) was for “Work-
ing Fine Thread in Needlework, after the Manner
of Dresden Needlework, and for erecting a Man-
ufacture of that Sort in this Kingdom so as to be
of Public Utility, and enable Poor Girls of Eight
Years Old to maintain themselves without being
burthensome to the Parish to which they belong.”
Other patents were granted for the few crude
scientific discoveries and inventions of the time.
No material progress was made, however, in the
further development of the patent system until, at
the end of the last century, a series of important dis-
coveries was made which heralded the beginning
of a new era in the physical sciences. These inven-
tions were patented, and the patents became the
subjects of contests which ended in a series of ad-
judications, beginning with Arkwright's case in
1785, in the course of which there were discussed
and settled many of the fundamental principles of
patent law. The inventions of Watt, and Har-
greave, and Crompton, and Cartwright, soon di-
rected attention upon the patent laws. Stimulated
by the example of these men and by the hope of
reward, men began to devote their energies to
devising improvements upon the crude methods
then employed in the industrial arts. The num-
ber of inventions rapidly increased; and while in
1750 the number of English patents granted was
Only seven, in 1800, ninety-six were issued; in
1825, two hundred and fifty; and the British pat-
ent office now issues annually between three and
four thousand patents. The last steps in the de-
velopment of the English system were the passage
of the act 5 and 6 Wm. IV., c. 83, in 1835, and
the patent law amendment act in 1852, which
brought the system into its present condition;
and finally, during the present year (1883), there
has been passed an “Act to amend and consoli-
date the law relating to patents for inventions,
registration of designs and trademarks.” This
act makes certain changes in the present law
which are to go into effect Jan. 1, 1884. —2. In
America. A few of the earlier British patents,
as Cumberland's patent (1720), were granted for
“Our Said Kingdom of Great Britain, called
England, our Dominion of Wales, and Town of
Berwick-upon-Tweed; our Kingdom of Ireland,
and Our Colonies and Plantacions in America.”
Letters patent for inventions appear also to have
been granted by the different colonies before the
revolution. In 1641, Samuel Winslow, of Massa-
chusetts, obtained from the general court of that
colony a patent for his process of making salt;
and in 1656 a son of Gov. Winthrop obtained a
patent for another salt making process. Patents
were similarly granted in Connecticut during the
colonial period; but no organized patent system
existed here until after the establishment of the
federal government. The basis of the American
patent system is the clause in the United States
constitution which confers upon congress power
“To Promote the Progress of Science and useful
Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and
Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective
Writings and Discoveries.” Patents thus became
the subject of federal legislation, and in pursuance
of the power so delegated, congress has passed a
series of patent laws, commencing with the act of
1790. Under this act letters patent were granted
upon “any useful art, manufacture, engine, ma-
chine or device, or any improvement therein, not
before known or used,” for “any term not ex-
ceeding fourteen years.” The application for a
patent was made to the secretary of war, the sec-
retary of state and the attorney general, and it
required the concurrent action of two of those
officials to issue the patent. The specification or
description of the invention was certified by the
attorney general, and the patent on its issue was
sealed with the great seal and signed by the
president. No distinction was made in this act
between foreigners and citizens, and there was no
examination of the novelty or patentability of
inventions. In 1793 a second act was passed
Superseding the former one, and making changes
in the system. Patents were issued only to citi-
zens of the United States, and applicants were
126
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
required, before United States patents could
issue to them, to Surrender any patents that
might have been granted to them by the dif-
ferent states before the federal government was
established. This statute also provided that the
application should be made to the secretary of
state, and that interferences between applications
should be decided by a board of three arbitra-
tors. A government fee of $30 was established,
and a penalty of triple damages imposed on in-
fringers. Supplemental acts were passed in 1794
and 1800, the latter of which extended patent
privileges to aliens who at the time of making
application had been for two years resident in the
United States, and required all applications made
pursuant to that act to be accompanied by an
Oath to the effect that, to the best of the appli-
cant’s knowledge and belief, the invention “ had
not been known or used in this or any foreign
country.” A few years later the constitutional
question arose whether a state still had power to
grant patents, notwithstanding the provision of the
constitution giving power of legislation on patents
to congress. In 1798 an act had been passed by the
New York legislature granting to Robert R. Liv-
ingston “the sole and exclusive right and privi-
lege of constructing, making, using, employing
and navigating all and every species or kinds of
boats or watercraft, which might be urged or im-
pelled through the water, by the force of fire or
steam, in all creeks, rivers, bays and waters what-
soever, within the territory and jurisdiction of
this state,” for the term of twenty years from
the passage of the act, provided that he should,
within twelve months, construct a boat of at least
twenty tons capacity to be propelled by steam,
the mean progress of which, against the current
or tide of the Hudson river, should be not less
than four miles an hour. Livingston having
failed to accomplish this, the same provisions were
re-enacted in 1803, and again in 1808, securing
like privileges to Livingston and Robert Fulton.
Steam navigation having now become an accom-
plished fact through the efforts of these men, oth-
ers undertook, without license from them, to use
the same motive power in navigating the Hudson.
Livingston and Fulton then applied to the state
courts for an injunction, which was at first denied
on the ground that the act of the New York legis-
lature was contrary to the clause of the United
States constitution giving congress power to leg-
islate upon letters patent. But upon appeal,
Thompson and Kent, J.J., held that the act was
constitutional, on the ground that federal jurisdic-
tion Over patents was not exclusive, and the in-
junction was granted (Livingston vs. Van Ingen, 9
Johns, 506.) Similar privileges were then granted
in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania
and Tennessee, to citizens of those States. The
question of the constitutionality of this legislation
was subsequently raised in the United States
Supreme court, in Gibbons vs. Ogden, 9 Wheat., 1.
The precise point was not decided, however, the
New York act being held to be unconstitutional,
because in contravention of the laws of the United
States regulating commerce. Since that time,
however, notwithstanding the eminent dissenting
authority of Chancellor Kent and Judge Tucker,
the opinion has prevailed that federal jurisdiction
Over patents is exclusive, and the question must
now be regarded as so settled. — In 1819 a law
was enacted by congress, giving the United
States circuit courts original jurisdiction of all
actions arising under the patent or copyright laws
of the United States. The first provision for the
“reissue” of defective patents was made in the
act of 1832, which also provided for the annual
publication of the lists of expired patents, and
established a system of renewing or extending
patents about to expire upon application to con-
gress. Another statute, passed in 1832, extended
patent privileges still further by permitting every
resident alien who had duly made a preliminary
declaration of his intention to become a citizen,
to obtain patents on condition of introducing the
inventions into public use in the United States
within a year of the date of the patents. – Such
was the earlier legislation of congress upon pat-
ents; and although many important inventions
and discoveries were protected under these laws,
the patent system as a whole remained as yet in
a comparatively undeveloped state. It is stated
that from 1790 till 1803 the whole business of
issuing patents was practically done by one of the
clerks in the department of state. In 1803 Dr.
Thornton was appointed by Jefferson superintend-
ent of this branch, and held the office until 1827.
The whole number of patents issued from 1790 to
1836, a period of forty-six years, was only 10,020.
The patent office now issues more than that num-
ber every year. During this period, however, the
elementary principles of law governing patent
rights were settled in the courts, and the foun-
dation was laid in the decisions of Marshall and
Story for the subsequent development of that
branch of jurisprudence. — The year 1836 marks
an era in the development of the American
system. In that year an act was passed which
superseded the earlier legislation, and in an elab-
orate series of provisions, brought the patent
system into something like its present condition.
The patent office was established as a branch of
the department of state, and a staff of officials
created, with the commissioner of patents at the
head. The most important feature of the law was
the provision requiring a preliminary examination
to be made into the novelty and patentability of
each invention before issuing the patent. This
was a radical innovation, but it has proved a
beneficent one. This law also made provision
for the decision of interfering applications, and
enabled aliens, after a year's residence in the
United States, and under the conditions of the
former act, to take out patents. The government
fee for citizens and resident aliens was fixed at $30,
while for subjects of Great Britain it was $500,
and for other aliens $300. The reissue practice
was confirmed and extended, and provision was
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
127
made for the filing of caveats on incompleted in-
ventions. The recovery in suits for infringement
was restricted to the actual damage proven, except
in cases where exemplary damages were proper,
when triple damages were allowed. Exclusive
jurisdiction in patent causes was conferred upon
the United States circuit courts, and a board, con-
sisting of the commissioner of patents, the secre-
tary of state and the solicitor of the treasury, was
constituted for the purpose of hearing and passing
upon applications for the extension of patents.
In certain cases extensions of seven years were
allowed. Provision was also made in this law for
the record of assignments of patents, for the estab-
lishment of the patent office library, and for the
'exhibition of the models which had accumulated
since the beginning of the system. In that same
year (1836), however, the burning of the patent
office destroyed theinteresting collection of models,
:as well as many valuable records, of the earlier
patent system. A statute passed in the following
year established a method of restoring or replacing
the more important of the destroyed models and
records, and also introduced the practice of filing
disclaimers in cases where the original patents
were void through inadvertently excessive claims.
"The act of 1839 provided that the existence of a
foreign patent more than six months prior to ap-
plication here, should not be a bar to obtaining a
United States patent, except in cases where the
invention had been introduced into common and
public use in this country; but the United States
patent was made to terminate fourteen years from
the date of the foreign patent. A further pro-
vision of this act was that “no patent shall be
held to be invalid by reason of purchase, sale or
use prior to the application for a patent, except on
proof of abandonment of such invention to the
public, or that such purchase, sale or prior use
has been for more than two years prior to such
application for a patent.” In 1842 provision was
made for patenting designs for the term of seven
years, and patented articles were required to be
stamped “Patented,” with the date of patenting,
for the neglect of which a penalty was imposed.
The system was further extended by the acts of
1848 and 1849, which latter act made the patent
office a branch of the department of the interior.
Minor changes were made in the succeeding years,
and in 1861 an important act was passed empower-
ing the commissioner to establish rules governing
procedure in the patent office. The term of pat-
ents for inventions was extended to its present
length of seventeen years, and the former laws
discriminating between citizens and aliens were
repealed. A uniform scale of fees was adopted,
like that now in force; and in interference cases
witnesses were compelled to attend and testify as
before a court. A board of examiners in chief
was constituted, intermediate between the exam-
liners and the commissioner, to hear appeals from
the former. Finally, by the act of 1870, the for-
mer legislation was revised and consolidated, and
the System brought into its present condition.
The provisions of this patent code are contained
in some seventy sections, the effect of which will
be considered under the statement of existing law.
Meanwhile, the number of inventions has enor-
mously increased. In 1837, 435 patents were is-
sued; in 1860, 4,819; and in 1882, 18,467. These
figures adequately represent the rate of the growth
of the system and its present extent. — II. ExIST-
ING LAW AND PROCEDURE. Under the present
act of congress “any person who has invented or
discovered any new and useful art, machine, man-
ufacture or composition. of matter, or any new
and useful improvement thereof, not known or
used by others in this country, and not patented
or described in any printed publication in this
or any foreign country, before his invention or
discovery thereof, and not in public use or on
sale for more than two years prior to his appli-
cation, unless the same is proved to have been
abandoned, may, upon payment of the duty re-
quired by law and other due proceedings had,
obtain a patent therefor.” — 1. Subject Matter.
It will be observed that provision is made in the
statute for patenting four classes of inventions or
discoveries: arts, machines, manufactures, and
compositions of matter, — The statute term “art”
is intended and construed to cover cases in which
the essence of the invention consists in the mode,
process or art of doing a thing or accomplishing a
result, and not the particular machinery, appa-
ratus or device employed. A mere abstract prin-
ciple can not be the subject of a patent, nor is the
function or abstract effect of a machine patentable.
But the statutory expression covers and protects a
comprehensive class of inventions which are com-
binations of arrangements and processes to work
out new and useful results, and which are thus
patentable irrespective of the particular forms of
the instrumentalities used. —Inventions included
within the term “machine” are obviously those
which consist of a particular mechanism or de-
vice, or a combination of mechanical devices or
parts, as distinguished from a tool or instrument.
To sustain a patent for a machine it is only neces-
sary that the combination to produce certain effects
be new, whether the separate devices or elements
be new or old, provided that the combination is of
such a nature that the inventive faculty was exer-
cised in devising it; and, generally speaking, “a
machine is rightfully the subject of a patent when-
ever a new or an old effect is produced by
mechanism new in its combinations, arrangements
or mode of operation.” (Curtis' Law of Patents,
20.)—The term “manufacture” is construed in
the sense in which it is popularly used, to mean
the product or fabric of a machine or of human
art or industry. To be properly the subject of a
patent as a manufacture, the product must itself
be essentially new. Thus, an article in common
use can not be patented as a new manufacture
merely because it is fabricated by the use of new
and improved machinery; nor is a product patent-
able under this head merely because a machine
makes it more perfectly than it can be made with-
128
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
Out a machine. — The term “composition of mat-
ter” includes “patent medicines” and all com-
pounds or mixtures of substances, as articles of
food, etc. The resultant article or “composition ”
must, of course, be new, to be the subject of a
patent, but the question is not, whether the ingre-
dients or components are new, but whether there
is novelty in the combination, and the novelty
may consist in combining, in new proportions,
ingredients which have already been in extensive
and common use for the purpose of producing
a similar composition. — Besides the foregoing
classes of the subject matter of patentable in-
ventions, the statute provides for patenting “im-
provements,” and the larger number of patents
are issued for improvements. It was early decided
that a patent for the improvement of a machine
is the same thing as a patent for an improved
machine, but of course the patent can only be
taken for the new combination. It should be
noticed that the patent office does not undertake
to determine whether the improvement will in-
fringe an existing patent. But if the improve-
ment is novel, the patent is issued and the question
of infringement left to the courts. The test of
the validity of a patent for an improvement of an
existing machine, is to ascertain whether there has
been actual and substantial change, or merely
formal alteration requiring no invention. If no
substantially new element has been added to the
old machine, the patent can not be sustained; but
if some really new feature has been introduced
into the old mechanism, which causes it to operate
differently or produces a new or better effect, then
such addition will properly be the subject of a
patent as an improvement. Two classes of ques-
tions therefore arise in passing upon the validity of
a patent for an improvement of a machine. First,
where the effects produced are the same, the
inquiry is, whether the modus operandi of the
improved machine is substantially the same as
that Of the old machine, or whether the difference
in operation is sufficient to sustain a patent; second,
where the effects produced by the improved and
by the old machine are different, then the nature
and quality of the effect will be the criterion of
the validity of the patent. It should be added,
that there is no distinction between an improve-
ment on a patented machine and on One that is not
patented. —2. Qualities of Patentable Inventions.
The essential qualities of a patentable invention
are very broadly indicated in the statute. The
terms employed in the act are “invented or dis-
covered,” “new and useful art, machine,” etc., and
the question, what constitutes a patentable inven-
tion, is therefore to be answered by referring to the
adjudications of English and American courts,
which constitute the common law of the patent
system. It should be noted first, that “invented”
and “discovered” are synonymous in the patent
law; “novelty” and “utility,” required by our
statute, have always been held vitally essential
qualities of patentable inventions; and the degree
of novelty and utility—the “sufficiency of inven-
tion ”—necessary to support a patent, has been
determined by the courts in the numerous cases
which have presented these questions for adjudi-
cation. The degree of absolute utility required
in an invention is, however, slight. It is only
necessary that the invention shall not be positively
trivial, nor, on the other hand, noxious to public
health or morals. The principal inquiry in patent
law is therefore into the novelty of the invention,
for the whole theory upon which the patent sys-
tem rests, is that the patentee offers the world
something new in consideration for his exclusive
patent privilege. The novelty required by the
American law is universal novelty, with the one
exception that mere prior knowledge or use
abroad will not defeat the rights of a native in-
ventor, if the foreign invention has not been pat-
ented or described in any printed publication be-
fore the date of the American invention. The
general principles governing the essential degree
of novelty may be briefly summarized as follows:
It is established in the early cases that a new use
of an old thing—technically called a “double
use”—is not patentable. Merely mechanical
changes, or colorable variations, requiring no
exercise of the inventive faculty; and, in general,
alterations in the form or proportions of an exist-
ing device, can not be the subject of a patent.
And while the invention itself, and not the men-
tal process by which it was devised, is the real
test of its patentability, it must still be observed
that to support a patent the law requires it to ap-
pear that the invention is of such a nature as not
to exclude the possibility of exercise of the invent-
ive faculty in devising it. The terms “invented”
and “discovered" mean that the subject of a pat-
ent must be a true invention or discovery, and
not a mere mechanical improvement or substitu-
tion of a known “equivalent” involving mechan-
ical skill or superior workmanship. But if the re-
sult, if the invention itself, is properly patentable,
the law does not regard the mode of invention or
discovery; and an accidental discovery or inven-
tion is, in the law, just as meritorious as one
which is the result of laborious investigation and
experiment. To satisfy the statute requirement
of novelty, therefore, an invention must be sub-
stantially different from anything that has pre-
viously existed; and the criterion of the “suffi-
ciency of invention” is the character of the in-
vention itself, and not the degree of ingenuity or
skill employed in devising it. — 3. Qualifications
of Patentees. The existing law provides for the
issue of the patent in every instance to “the Orig-
inal and first inventor.” A radical difference be-
tween English and American law exists on this
point. In England the first importer of an in-
vention is treated as an inventor, and may obtain
a patent; but under our system the patent issues
only to the inventor. The only discrimination in
our law in favor of citizens of the United States,
is the provision that mere prior knowledge in a
foreign country shall not debar a native inventor
from obtaining a patent for an invention devised
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
129
independently here, if at the time of making his
application he really believes himself to be the
first inventor. The foreign invention must have
been patented or described in some printed publi-
cation prior to the date of invention in this country
in order to deprive the native inventor of his pat-
ent. —4. Designs. Section 4929 of the Revised
Statutes provides that “any person who by his
own industry, genius, efforts and expense has
invented and produced any new and original de-
sign for a manufacture, bust, statue, alto-relievo,
or bas-relief; any new and original design for the
printing of woolen, silk, cotton or other fabrics;
any new and original impression, ornament, pat-
tern, print or picture to be printed, painted, cast,
or otherwise placed on or worked into any
article of manufacture; or any new, useful and
original shape or configuration of any article of
manufacture, the same not having been known
or used by others before his invention or produc-
tion thereof, or patented or described in any
printed publication, may, upon payment of the
fees prescribed, and other due proceedings had,
the same as in cases of inventions or discoveries,
obtain a patent therefor.” The term for which
these patents are issued is either three and a half,
seven or fourteen years, and the fees are, respect-
ively, ten, fifteen and thirty dollars. — 5. Proced-
wre in the Patent Office. Since 1836 the whole
business of issuing patents has been conducted by
the patent office at Washington. Applications
for patents are made to the commissioner of pat-
ents in accordance with a prescribed form, which
consists of a petition for the allowance of the
patent, and an oath that the applicant believes
himself to be the first inventor, and that he does
not know or believe that the invention was ever
before known or used. These forms accompany
the specification or description of the invention,
which is by far the most important part of the
application. The statute provides that the speci-
fication shall describe the invention in such “full,
clear, concise and exact terms as to enable any
person skilled in the art or science to which it
appertains, or with which it is most nearly con-
nected, to make, construct, compound and use
the same.” The object of this provision is to
secure to the public the benefit of the invention
after the expiration of the patent, which, as we
have seen, is part of the compact between the
patentee and the state. The specification con-
cludes with the ‘‘ claims,” in which the inventor
is required to “particularly point out and dis-
tinctly claim the part, improvement or combina-
tion which he claims as his invention or discov-
ery.” Drawings accompany the specification in
all cases which admit of them, and the commis-
sioner may require the applicant to furnish the
patent office with a model or specimen, although
these are now not often required. — The applica-
tion, on being filed in the office, is referred to the
examiner or officer in charge of the department
in which the invention is classed. The examiner
then proceeds to make an examination of the
128 VOL. III. — 9
invention, and of the patent office records, to
ascertain whether it possesses novelty and util-
ity. An examination of the records of foreign
patent bureaus and of scientific works is also
necessary, to ascertain whether the invention
has been anticipated abroad, or whether it has
been described in any printed publication. If
from any of these sources anything is found
which shows the invention claimed, or any fea-
ture of it, to be wanting in novelty, the applicant
is notified by the examiner, and a report is sent
him rejecting the application, stating specifically
in what features novelty is lacking, and giving
references to such prior patents or records as
anticipate the invention. The applicant thus has
an opportunity to amend his application so as to
make it conform to the state of the art, and to
eliminate the features that are not new. If the
objection raised by the examiner is deemed
groundless, the applicant may attempt, by argu-
ment or explanation, to remove it. In case of
adverse decision, an appeal will lie from the de-
cision of the primary examiner to an intermediate
board, consisting of three examiners-in-chief; and
if the applicant is still dissatisfied, he can bring
his case before the commissioner of patents. If
no objection is raised by the primary examiner,
or if all objection is removed by amendment or
overcome by argument, the application is allowed.
The fee upon filing an application is $15; and
upon the issue of the patent, $20. The final fee
is required to be paid within six months after the
allowance of the patent, and the specification is
then printed, and the patent issued for the term
of seventeen years from the date of its issue. —
6. Reissue and Disclaimer. A further proceeding,
of which the patent office has jurisdiction after
the issue of the patent, is the “reissue” of patents
which are defective on their first issue, “if the
error has arisen by inadvertence, accident or mis-
take.” Where the patent is invalid by reason of
a defective or insufficient specification, it is sur-
rendered and sent to the patent office with a cor-
rected specification; and in a proper case, on
payment of the duty, a new or reissued patent, in
accordance with the amended specification, is
granted for the unexpired term of the original
patent. These reissues were formerly issued with
great laxity. But since the decision of the su-
preme court in Miller vs. Brass Co., 104 U. S., 350,
the provisions of the statute have been observed,
and the practice of repeatedly expanding patents
by reissuing them is no longer possible. It should
be added, that in Cases where the inventor has
inadvertently claimed in his original patent more
than he is entitled to, the patent may be amended
by filing a “ disclaimer.” of what is excessive, and
the patent will then be valid for the residue. —
7. Interferences. Where an application is filed
which “interferes” with a pending application,
or with a patent granted within two years pre-
vious to the filing of the application, an “inter-
ference” is declared. The parties to the interfer-
ence are then required to file statements giving
130
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
briefly the dates of conception of the invention
and of its completion, and the question of priority
of invention is then tried by a somewhat cumber-
Some procedure. Evidence substantiating the
allegations of the preliminary statement is taken
on behalf of the respective parties, and the matter
is then brought on for a hearing before the exam-
iner of interferences.
the party who successfully establishes priority of
invention, and at the same time shows reasonable
diligence in reducing the invention to practice. —
8. Caveats. Protection is afforded to inventors
who have not completed or perfected their inven-
tions, by the practice of filing caveats in the patent
Office. The caveat is an instrument which recites
that the inventor has conceived, but not yet per-
fected, his invention, and which sets forth in gen-
eral terms the salient points and characteristics of
the invention as far as completed. The caveator
then prays protection until he shall have matured
the invention. This instrument is filed in the
secret archives of the patent office, and protects
the caveator for a year, by entitling him to
notice in case, within that time, any application
is filed in the Office which would interfere with
the invention indicated in the caveat. In case
such notice is given, he has three months’ time
in which to prepare and file a complete appli-
cation for a patent. The caveat may be renewed
for a year at a time, with the same effect. —9.
Assignments and Licenses. The transfer of a pat-
ent, or interest in a patent, is by assignment.
The transfer may be either an assignment, 1, of
the whole patent, 2, of an undivided interest in
the patent, or 3, of an exclusive interest in the
patent within any specified territory of the United
States. The Revised Statutes require the assign-
ment to be in writing, and provide that it “shall
be void as against any subsequent purchaser or
mortgagee for a valuable consideration without
notice unless it is recorded in the patent office
within three months from the date thereof.” A.
license is a contract which confers upon the
licensee the mere right to use or practice the in-
vention, and is distinguished from an assignment
in that it conveys no interest in the patent itself.
This contract is not required to be recorded, nor
need it be in writing, but may be oral or implied.
Part owners of a patent are tenants in common,
and are not bound to account to each other for
receipts from licenses, and these latter may be
granted by any of the co-owners without joining
the others. An application for a patent pending
in the patent office may be assigned in the same
manner as a patent; and the patent will issue to the
assignee. So also an agreement to assign a patent
for an invention when issued will be effective,
and specific performance of it will be enforced in
equity. It has recently been held, however, that
an assignment of an application, or an agreement
to assign a patent for an invention when issued,
must describe the application or invention with
sufficient distinctness to enable the court to iden-
tify it. — 10. Patent Office Fees. The patent office
The patent is awarded to
fees, other than those already given, are as follows:
On filing every caveat, $10; on filing a disclaimer,
$10; On filing every application for a reissue, $30;
On filing every application for a division of a re-
issue, $30; On filing every application for an ex-
tension, $50; on the grant of every extension, $50;
On filing an appeal from a primary examiner to
the examiners-in-chief, $10; on filing an appeal
to the commissioner from the examiners-in-chief,
$20; for certified copies of patents or other
instruments, except copies of printed patents
sold by the office, for every 100 words, 10 cents;
for certified copies of printed patents sold by
the office, 10 cents for every 100 words, less
the price actually paid for such copies without
certification ; for certified copies of drawings,
the reasonable cost of making them; for record-
ing an assignment of 300 words or less, $1; for
recording an assignment of more than 300 and
not more than 1,000 words, $2; for recording
every assignment of more than 1,000 words, $3;
for uncertified copies of the specifications and
accompanying drawings of all patents which are
in print, single copies 25 cents, and for twenty
copies or more, whether of one or several patents,
per copy, 10 cents; for uncertified copies of the
specifications and drawings of patents not in
print, the reasonable cost of making the same ;
for copies of matter in any foreign language,
per 100 words, 20 cents; for translations, per
100 words, 50 cents; for assistance to attorneys
in examination of records, one hour or less, 50
cents; each additional hour, 50 cents; for assist-
ance to attorneys in examination of patents
and other works in the scientific library, one hour
or less, $1, and for each additional hour, $1.
— 11. Procedure in the Courts. By the Revised
Statutes the United States circuit courts have
original jurisdiction “of all actions, suits, con-
troversies and cases arising under the patent laws
of the United States.” All proceedings, therefore,
for the protection or enforcement of patent rights,
except actions for the breach of contract relating
to patents, which are cognizable in the state
courts, are brought in the circuit courts or in a
district court having circuit court jurisdiction.
Under the act of 1870 the remedy of the patentee,
where his patent is infringed, is either by action
at law, in which the actual damage suffered from
the infringement will be recovered, or by suit in
equity, in which the complainant may obtain a
perpetual injunction restraining further infringe-
ment if he establishes his case, and also recover
the damages sustained from the infringement, as
well as the profits realized by the defendant from
the use of the infringement. Where the com-
plainant, at the commencement of the suit, is able
to present a strong primâ facie case, he may also,
upon notice, obtain a preliminary injunction
restraining infringement pendente lite. The
equitable remedy is usually adopted as being
the most efficacious; but some of the archaic com-
mon law procedure is retained in the circuit
courts, and the suits are as protracted and slow
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
131
as the old English chancery litigation. Suits for
infringement are brought in the name of the
owners of the patent right for the district where
the infringement is committed. The evidence is
taken on behalf of the respective parties, support-
ing the allegations of the bill and answer in
respect to the naked question of infringement, or
the validity of the complainant’s patent, where
that is in issue. The cause is then brought on
for a hearing before a single judge, who passes
upon the issues raised by the pleadings. If his
decision sustains the complainant’s patent, and
holds that it has been infringed by the defendant,
an interlocutory decree is entered to that effect,
and the cause is sent before a master to take an
account of the defendant’s profits from the use of
the infringement. Upon the master's report the
cause is again brought before the circuit judge,
and the final decree settled, determining the
amount that the complainant is entitled to recover.
If the court decides adversely to the complainant,
a decree is entered dismissing the bill. From the
judgments and final decrees of the circuit court
in these causes, a writ of error or appeal will lie
to the supreme court of the United States. – 12.
Infringements. The question, what constitutes
infringement, is one of the most difficult ques-
tions presented to a court for adjudication; and
the legal principles which govern its determina-
tion can only be roughly indicated in this article.
A patent confers upon the patentee the exclusive
right of making, using, and vending to others to
be used, the invention protected by patent. The
patent is infringed, therefore, whenever the in-
vention so protected is appropriated in either, of
those ways without the license of the patentee, or
whenever a colorable imitation of it, not involv-
ing new invention, is so employed. A patent for
a machine is infringed whenever the same means
or devices are employed, substantially as in the
patented machine, to produce the same result; and
it has been held, per Taney, C. J., in Browne vs.
Duchesne (19 How., 183), that the mere mak-
ing of a patented machine is an infringement.
— It is evident that a patent for an art is in-
fringed when that art is used or practiced by
another without license of the patentee, and
that it is an infringement of a patent for a manu-
facture, or composition of matter, to either
make, use or sell the article claimed in the pat-
ent. But the whole difficulty in questions of in-
fringement consists in determining “what degree
of resemblance constitutes the identity which the
patent law designates as an infringement, and
what kind and what degree of difference will
relieve from this charge.” It is well settled that
the substitution of known “equivalents” for the
means described in the patent is not sufficient
variation to avoid infringement; and, “by equiva-
lents in machinery is usually meant the substitu-
tion of merely one mechanical power for another,
or one obvious and customary mode for another,
of effecting a like result.” (Smith vs Downing,
1 Fish Pat. Cases, 87.) But the difficulty of
applying these principles presents itself anew in
every case, and it can best be solved by referring
to the great mass of precedents in English and
American law. It will be sufficient, therefore, to
add, that substantial identity is the test of in-
fringement, and that substantial identity exists
wherever the difference between the patented
invention and the alleged infringement is mere
colorable alteration, and does not involve inven-
tion. In the words of Nelson, J., in Blanchard
os. Beers (2 Blatch., 418), “There must be mind
and inventive genius involved in it (the altera-
tion), and not the mere skill of the workman.”
But it should be observed, finally, that even if the
variation involve sufficient invention to entitle its
deviser to a patent, it will not necessarily relieve
him from infringement if he still employs sub-
stantially the device covered by a prior patent.
—13. Défenses. In addition to joining issue on
the question of infringement, the statute provides
that the defendant may plead the general issue;
and, upon notice, may prove on the trial the
following matters: first, fraudulently defective
or excessive specification of complainant's patent;
second, that complainant’s patent was surrepti-
tiously obtained; third, earlier patent or publica-
tion of the invention claimed; fourth, that the
patentee was not the first inventor of any sub-
stantial feature claimed; fifth, abandonment or
public use two years prior to the patentee’s appli-
cation. In an action at law, the dates and circum-
stances must be appended to the notice; and in
an equity suit, any of the above matters may be
pleaded, and like notice may be given in the
answer. The defendant is thus enabled to call
in question the validity of the complainant's
patent; and if he succeeds in impeaching it, the
Question of infringement is at an end. — III. THE
GENERAL POLICY OF A PATENT SYSTEM. Asso-
ciated in their origin with the oppressions of the
Tudors and the Stuarts, patents for inventions
have since that time not infrequently been de-
nounced as monopolies. In the earlier cases in
which patents were brought before English
tribunals for adjudication, the judges were reluc-
tant to recognize the rights of patentees. Lord
Kenyon is reported to have said, in the great case
of Hornblower vs. Boulton (8 T. R., 99), “I con-
fess I am not one of those who greatly favor
patents,” and Lord Erskine stated that “the ideas
of the learned judges had been very different as
to the advantages to the public since the statute
giving those monopolies.” Nor has the criticism
of the patent system been confined to expressions
of judicial disfavor of a century ago. It is still
asserted by a certain school of economists that a
patent is a true monopoly which robs the public,
and that all systems of patent law are radically
and essentially vicious. Within the last fifty years
the system has been repeatedly assailed in the
English parliament, and in this country the ques-
tion of its abolition has been broached at Wash-
ington. In 1829, in 1851, in 1863, and again in
1871, the policy of the British system was inquired
132
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
into by committees from the upper and lower
houses of parliament in consequence of the violent
attacks made upon the patent laws. At almost
every session of the house of commons for the
past few years, a bill has been introduced having
for its object the unconditional abolition of the
present patent system; and the supporters of this
measure, led by Sir Roundell Palmer, constituted
a faction known as “Abolitionists.” Recently
the farmers of some of our western states, in con-
sequence of the extortions of the owners of certain
important patents, notably the “wire fence” and
“driven well” patents, have demanded the repeal
of the American patent laws. M. Chevalier, the
French economist, writing in 1878, denounced in
toto all systems of patent law. In 1868, as secre-
tary of the confederation, Bismarck recommended
to the North German parliament the abolition of
patents, and in Holland a law was enacted in
1869, discontinuing the system in that country
from and after Jan. 1, 1870. From this résumé
of the opposition to patents it will be seen that
the question of the policy of patent laws is by no
means settled. A discussion of that question
involves an examination of the economic and
legal principles upon which the system rests. –
The motive which originally inserted in the stat-
ute of monopolies the proviso from which later
systems of patent law have been derived and
developed, was, as its recital shows, to stimulate
and encourage inventive genius in England, and
thereby foster and develop the young industries
of that country. There has since arisen the the-
Ory that an inventor has a property, or at least a
quas; property, in his ideas, which it is both just
and expedient to protect by patent laws. The
claims of the patent system are thus rested upon
the two-fold consideration of, first, a sense of jus-
tice to the inventor, and, second, a belief in the
Sound policy of stimulating inventive genius by
holding out to an inventor a material recompense
proportionate to his contribution to society.— The
Soundness of these propositions is controverted by
Opponents of patent laws. It is urged that there
is no right of property in the ideas of inventors
which Society is bound to recognize, and also
that the evils and inconveniences of the patent
system are not compensated for by its benefits.
The first of these propositions is obviously the-
oretical. The assertion that there is a right of
property in inventions is controverted by the asser-
tion that there can be no property in thought,
which is of the essence of all inventions, because
it has not the attributes and qualities of material
property. The former position is vigorously sup-
ported by John Stuart Mill and Herbert Spen-
cer, while the latter is maintained by M. Cheva-
lier and the British “abolitionists.” Without
pausing to decide this economic controversy, it
may be remembered, first, that inventions are the
product of most valuable and indirectly wealth-
producing labor, and second, that the state can,
as observed by Lord Brougham in Jefferys vs.
Boosey, make inventions “a quasi property, or
give the author the same kind of right and
the same remedies which he would have if the
produce of his labor could have been regarded as
property.” In this practical aspect of the ques-
tion the theoretical inquiry becomes unimportant,
since the legislature can and does endow invent-
ors’ rights with all the attributes of other prop-
erty, just as it sometimes invests with such attri-
butes its own franchises; and it is important to be
added, this practice seems to be ethically justifi-
able. The whole question, therefore, resolves.
itself into one of expediency and policy. — The
most considerable objection urged against the
policy of granting patents for inventions is, that
they interfere with the principle of “freedom of
industry’’ (la liberté du travail). This is the argu-
ment of M. Chevalier and the ‘‘ abolitionists.”
It is by no means clear, however, as may be gath-
ered from the following considerations, that the
practical effect of patent laws is to interfere with
freedom of industry in any degree whatever. —
Under a well administered code of patent laws it.
is obvious that nothing can be claimed and pro-
tected in a valid patent which is not new, which
is not a true invention. The industrial world is
not, therefore, deprived by patent of what it pre-
viously enjoyed, for by the hypothesis the inven-
tion is the discovery of some hitherto unknown
agency or appliance. The fallacy of the asser-
tion that freedom of industry is interfered with
by patents lies in the assumption either that old
devices are allowed to be covered by patent, or
that new inventions would come into being in the
absence of patent laws. But the first half of
this assumption is negatived by the hypothesis
that the invention is new, i. e., hitherto unknown.
Passing, then, to the consideration of the propo-
sition that new inventions protected by patent
would be made without the stimulus of patent
laws, we find that it is no less fallacious. A
necessity, say the abolitionists, is itself a suffi-
cient incentive to excite invention, and as soon as
a want is felt, a hundred minds will be devoted to
devising a means of filling it. But the history
of industrial communities does not bear out this
assertion. Not only is there a tendency among
the classes actually engaged in manufacturing
and agricultural pursuits to remain apathetically
content in the use of already existing appliances,
but there has even been evinced, and notably in
England, a positive hostility on the part of Opera-
tives to the introduction of new, and especially of
labor-saving inventions. A hundred years ago
mobs destroyed the improved machinery of Ark-
wright and Hargreaves. Thirty years later, OC-
curred the Luddite riots in consequence of the
introduction of power looms. Competition will,
of course, in time develop improvements; but
the antagonism now existing between capital
which most feels the spur of competition, and
labor which possesses the skill to create the
improvements, renders this agency ineffective to
produce the best results. So long as the capitalist
is to reap the entire benefit of an improvement,
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
133
the inventor will be slow to devise it. There
must be some way of appealing directly to inven-
tive genius to obtain its best fruits. This was
realized by Edward Bally, one of the Swiss com-
missioners to the Philadelphia centennial exposi-
tion. On his return to Switzerland, which has
no patent system, he wrote: “We must intro-
duce the patent system. All our production is
more or less a simple copy. The inventor has no
profit to expect from his invention, however use-
ful it may be. It is evident that this absolute
want of protection will never awaken in a people
the spirit of invention * *.” And yet the Swiss
are reputed as ingenious as any other people.—
Still another consideration may be adduced to
refute the claims of the “abolitionists,” that
freedom of industry is interfered with by patents.
If the inventor keeps his invention in secrecy and
allows his secret to die with him—which was the
only protection an inventor had before patent
laws became effective—it can not be said that the
normal movement of industries is interfered with.
In this case, however, he entirely deprives the
world of the benefit of his discovery. But by
taking out a patent he simply makes a contract
with society, whereby his secret is surrendered
in return for a certain fraction of the benefit con-
ferred by it for a term of years. If the inven-
tion is valuable, the inventor's reward is pro-
portionately rich; if it is of no importance, it
can have no effect on industries. An inventor’s
patent excludes the industrial world from noth-
ing it enjoyed before; it simply offers a novelty
as a substitute for older methods. Undoubtedly,
; the system, because imperfectly administered, has
had the effect, in many instances, of depriving
the world by patent of old and well-known appli-
ances; and then, as in England and France, the
burden is thrown on the community of prov-
ing that the patent is robbing it of what it pre-
viously enjoyed. But obviously the cause of
this is the imperfect administration of an imper-
fect code of laws. A patent for a true invention
can never clog the wheels of an industry, since, if
it be a true invention, it leaves the industry free
to enjoy all the agencies and appliances known
before the new invention was devised. If, how-
ever, this latter cheaperis or improves an existing
process, the inventor asks to share in the enhanced
cheapness or improvement, which by the hypoth-
esis his genius is the means of creating. —Sim-
ilar views have been expressed by so keen an
observer as Mr. Herbert Spencer. “They fall
into a serious error,” he wrote in his “Social
Statics,” “who suppose that the exclusive right
assumed by a discoverer is something taken from
the public. He who in anyway increases the pow-
ers of production, is seen by all, save a few insane
Luddites, to be a general benefactor who gives
rather than takes. The successful inventor makes
a further conquest over nature. By him the laws
of matter are rendered still more subservient to
the wants of mankind. He economizes labor;
helps to emancipate men from their slavery to the
needs of the body; harnesses a new power to the
Car of human happiness. He can not, if he
would, prevent society from largely participating
in his good fortune. Before he can realize any
benefit from his new process or apparatus, he
must first confer a benefit on his fellow-men ;
must either offer them a better article at the price
usually charged, or the same article at a less price.
If he fails to do this, his invention is a dead let-
ter; if he does it, he makes society a partner in
the new mine of wealth he has opened. For all
the exertion he has had in subjugating a pre-
viously unknown region of nature, he simply
asks an extra proportion of the fruits. The rest
of mankind unavoidably come in for the main ad-
vantage; will in a short time have the whole.
Meanwhile, they can not without injustice disre-
gard his claims.”—But the cause of patent laws
does not require to be established in a negative,
defensive manner. In the United States, at least,
the beneficence of the system is so obvious, the
claims of inventors are so meritorious, that argu-
ment is hardly necessary to make them apparent.
—Patents give support to a class of ingenious
and talented men whose profession it is to devise
improvements and make discoveries, and whose
life and training render them especially qualified
for such service. It is estimated that there are
from five to six thousand professional inventors
in the United States. But it is obvious that with-
out a patent code it would hardly be possible to
follow invention as a business. Experts might
find employment with great manufacturers, but
they could not feel the same personal incentive to
make inventions which the patent system affords
them. So that the first effect of patent laws is to
keep these thousands of minds constantly engaged
in solving the problems of science and mechanics.
—Patents, moreover, facilitate the introduction
of inventions. They enable the inventor to give
the capitalist something substantial upon which
to embark his money; without which there would
not be the same inducement to him to engage in
the enterprise of introducing novelties if the re-
sults of his experiments and ventures could be at
once appropriated by others. — Patents give also
to the inventor a reward proportioned to the value
of the invention. The incentive is thus given to
devise labor-saving and cheapening inventions.
An inventor realizes that however ingenious his
device, it can have no existence commercially un-
less it either cheapens or improves Something
for which there is a demand, or unless the in-
vention itself creates and satisfies a new want.
Bessemer’s invention reduced the cost of Cast
steel from $200 per ton to about $55; and with all
this reduction the royalty was only $10 perton, or
about 7 per cent. of the reduction. It has been
estimated that inventions increase the value of
human labor in this country 2 per cent. annually.
— These benefits will perhaps be still more obvi-
ous and impressive if we consider the practical
effect of patent laws through inventions upon the
industrial system of a community. The real be-
134
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
ginning of the patent system was, as we have
seen, coeval with the great scientific and inventive
movement in the latter half of the eighteenth cen-
tury. It is not claimed that patent laws origi-
nated this movement, but that they at least made
it possible and accelerated it. A review of the
history of the iron and cotton industries in Great
Britain shows this clearly. In the year 1740 the
total produce of iron in Great Britain was 17,350
tons. In that year Dudley’s invention for using
coal in smelting in lieu of timber began to be
used, and in less than 50 years (1788) the annual
production had increased to 68,300 tons. In 1788
Watt's steam engine was introduced for blowing
furnaces, and for the year 1806, the production
amounted to 258,206 tons. In 1830 Neilson’s hot
blast was adopted, and by 1839 the yearly prod-
uce of iron had reached 1,248,781 tons, and the
annual production now averages more than
6,000,000 tons, of a value of more than £16,000,000.
In less than a century and a half the production
of iron has increased nearly a thousand fold, and
it is the inventions of Dudley, Watt and Neilson
which have at least made this increase possible.
— Quite as remarkable has been the effect of in-
ventions upon the English cotton industry. At
the middle of the eighteenth century the total
annual imports of raw cotton into Great Britain
were less than 3,000,000 pounds. In 1769 and
1770 were patented Arkwright's and Hargreaves'
inventions for spinning, and by 1776 the annual
imports of cotton wool amounted to nearly
7,000,000 pounds. In 1779 Crompton's spinning
mule was invented, and in 1785 and 1787 Cart-
wright's loom patents were issued; by 1790 the
yearly imports of cotton had reached 31,447,605
pounds. In 1880 the imports of cotton amounted
to 1,628,664,576 pounds, and the British cotton
factories now employ nearly half a million oper-
atives. The amount of cotton manufactured in
Great Britain has thus increased more than five
hundred fold, and an industry has been created
which gives employment to about one-seventieth
of the total population. — The growth of the iron
and cotton industries may be regarded as typical of
the general industrial progress of Great Britain dur-
ing the last hundred years. More recent general
advance is shown by the fact that the total exports
of British produce have increased from £52,000,000
in 1848, to £223,060,446 in 1880; and in the same
period the population has increased about 25 per
cent.: from about 27,500,000 in 1850, to 34,505,000
in 1880. A comparison of the ratio of production
to population at the former period with the similar
ratio at the later one, will indicate the degree of in-
crease in productive capacity. It is, therefore, con-
fidently asserted that the most important agency in
increasing the productive power of a nation is the
invention and introduction of labor-saving devices,
and that the invention of such devices alone renders
such an increase possible, as is shown in a consider-
ation of the above statistics of the iron and cotton
industries.—The history of these inventions, how-
ever, indicates that without the protection of patent
laws they would not have been developed and in-
troduced. In the case of the steam engine, for ex-
ample, it was only after spending all his own means,
after thirteen years of ceaseless experiment, and
after obtaining from parliament the grant of a spe-
cial patent for twenty-four years, that Watt suc-
ceeded in inducing Matthew Bolton to embark his
capital in the development and introduction of the
invention. It is estimated that £40,000 were ex-
pended by Watt and Bolton in developing this in-
vention; and such was the hostility shown to its in-
troduction that the patent had nearly expired before
these men began to receive a return for their ex-
penditure of time and money. A recent life of
Watt states that the steam power of Great Britain
is now equivalent to the power of 400,000,000 men
—more than ten times the entire population; and it
is primarily Watt's invention and the countless
devices of subsequent inventors which utilize the
magnificent power he discovered, that have made
England’s industrial and commercial progress pos-
sible. — The history of the steam engine is the his-
tory of nearly all great labor-saving discoveries.
They have all originated in patent protected com-
munities; and where the patent laws have not di-
rectly incited the inventor to make his discovery,
they have still facilitated its introduction and devel-
opment by enabling the inventor to enlist the aid
of capital. The manner in which inventors are
affected by patent laws is instructively shown by
the following evidence of Sir Henry Bessemer
before the committee of the house of commons in
1871: “My experience during the whole of this.
time (the years that he was experimenting) has
shown me clearly that if I had had no patent law
to fall back upon, I, as an engineer, could never
have first spent two and a half years of my time.
and £4,000 in mere experiments, which if they
had failed would have been an entire loss to me.
Altogether I made an outlay of about £20,000,
but of course I had a large stake to play for. I
knew that steel was selling at £50 to £60 per ton,
and I knew that if it could be made by my plan,
it could with profit be sold at £20 per ton. But
had it not been for the law, securing my right in
my invention by a patent, I could never have
hoped as a simple manufacturer to have recouped
myself.” Such has been the effect of the
British patent system in two conspicuous in-
stances, and such instances might be almost
indefinitely multiplied. —Turning now to the in-
dustrial history of the United States, the results.
are no less impressive. Perhaps no one industry
has been more closely identified with the national
life and growth of the country than cotton rais-
ing. It is stated in Smithers' History of Liver-
pool (p. 124), that in 1784 an American vessel
arrived at Liverpool, having on board eight bags
of cotton, which were seized by the custom house
officers under an impression that cotton was not
the produce of the United States. In 1793 Eli
Whitney, of Westborough, Mass., invented and
patented his saw gin for separating cotton from
the seeds. Before this invention cotton could be
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
135
cleansed only by hand, or with some rude hand
mill. The utmost daily capacity of one of these
mills was about sixty-five pounds, and by hand a
man could prepare from one to four pounds per
diem. With Whitney's cotton gin a single per-
son could prepare in a day about 300 pounds—
five times as much as by any prior method; and the
daily capacity of modern gins is said to be about
4,000 pounds. The effect of this invention upon
cotton raising was marvelous. In 1792 the ex-
ports of raw cotton from the United States were
138,328 pounds. By 1794, the year after the in-
troduction of the cotton gin, the exports had
increased to 1,601,700 pounds; in 1800 they had
reached 17,789,803 pounds—more than one hun-
dred fold in eight years; in 1820 they amounted
to 127,860,152 pounds, of a value of $20,000,000,
showing an increase in twenty-seven years of
nearly a thousand fold. — The story of Whitney's
invention and of his almost unsuccessful efforts
to obtain recognition of his rights as an inventor,
is matter of history. The unscrupulous infringe-
ment of his patent brought discredit upon his
contemporariés. But the record of the life of
this man shows that he labored upon his inven-
tion in the hope of obtaining under a patent a
share of the wealth it was to create; and had it
not been for this hope, rendered possible by our
patent laws, he could not have devoted his time
and energies to the successful achievement of
his great work. — So the effect of our patent laws
upon the general agricultural methods of this
country is something almost incalculable. Nearly
all the inventions which have made western
farming possible on its present magnificent Scale
have originated and been perfected under our
patent system; and the history of the develop-
ment of our agriculture might almost be written
from the patent office records of the annual
achievements of American inventive genius. A
single instance will call to mind the manner in
which agriculture has been revolutionized by
American inventions. – Down to the beginning
of the present century, the only great improve-
ment that had been made upon the harvesting
methods of the ancients was the invention of
the cradle in 1794, by a Scotchman. In 1834 the
first patent was issued in this country upon the
McCormick reaper. It took McCormick about
twenty years after 1834 to develop and perfect his
machine, and it was between 1855 and 1858 that
it was practically introduced. Their effect can
be estimated by comparing in the following table
(from the census of 1870), the agricultural popu-
lation of the country with the amount of produce
in which these machines are used, at the different
periods before and after their introduction:
1850. 1860. 1870.
Population engaged A $. ſº
. 8. †† } 1,301,863 2,024,399 || 2,641,830
otal bushels wheat, t rºy
rye, oats and barley } 266,425,951 || 382,675,387 || 616,532,883
Allowance must, of course, be made for the
innumerable other inventions employed in the
culture of these products; but the general increase
of per capita production can be roughly estimated
from these figures; and while the farming popu-
lation increased about 100 per cent. between 1850
and 1870, the produce of grain increased nearly
200 per cent. — But the inventions to which this
increase is due, could not have been devised or
perfected without the stimulus and protection of
our patent laws. More than 5,000 patents have
been issued in this country upon reapers and
mowers alone, and the latest machines embody
the results of the life work of a hundred inventors
whose only hope of recouping themselves for
their expenditure of time and fortune was in our
patent system, and who could not have labored
without it. It is stated that the McCormick com-
pany alone has spent more than $1,000,000 in
experiments, and it is also stated that this machine
saves the country annually the sum of $10,000,000.
— Similar effects are to be noticed in our textile
industries. In 1860 the number of hands engaged
in woolen, cotton and other similar factories, was
181,550; the wages paid amounted to $37,301,710;
and the value of the product was $196,416,400.
In 1870 the number of operatives had increased
to 255,328, about 40 per cent. The wages amounted
to $79,401,367, more than 100 per cent. increase,
and the product was valued at $395,158,565, more
than 100 per cent. advance. —It will be found in
nearly every instance that the chief agency in
effecting this increased production is the labor-
economizing machinery devised by countless in-
ventors, and patented among the myriad American
patents. One more table will indicate the rate of
increase in our general manufactures :
Hands. Wºr Material. Product.
1850----| 957,059 $236,765,446 |$ 555,123,822 |$1,019,106,616
1860---. 1,311,264 387,878,996 | 1,031,605,092 | 1,885,861,676
1870----|2,053,996 || 775,584,343| 2,448,427,242 || 4,232,325,442

—But enough has been written to indicate the
practical tendency of patent laws; and it may,
perhaps, be safe to conclude that the opposition to
patents, although directed at the system and de-
manding its abolition, has in fact been occasioned
by the imperfect administration of still more im-
perfect patent codes. Especially is this true of
the British abolitionists. The enormous expense
of patent litigation in England, its “glorious un-
certainty,” and the practice of throwing on the
public the burden of impeaching the patent with-
out first officially investigating its validity, have
opened the way in that country for great abuses,
and have undoubtedly made the system unneces-
sarily burdensome to British manufacturers. In
many instances under the English law, the manu-
facturer finds it cheaper to acquiesce in the claims
of an impostor than to contest the validity of his
patent in court. The remedy for these evils, how-
ever, and for the evils of the American System, is

136
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
in reform of the law and its administration, not
abolition of the system; and the fact that enor-
mous benefits can still be traced to these patent
laws, however imperfectly administered, furnishes
a cogent reason for continuing and extending the
benefits by continuing and improving the laws. –
IV. CHANGES IN THE LAw. The American pat-
ent system is regarded, both here and abroad, as
the most progressive and complete existent insti-
tution of its kind. Many of the reforms and
improvements in patent laws have originated at
Washington, and have then been adopted by
European governments. The most radical im-
provement in the system was made in 1836, when
the patent office was established, and the practice
of making preliminary examinations of inventions
instituted. This latter feature is recommended
by all economists familiar with the working of
patent laws, as a desideratum of every system, and
has been incorporated into the law of several
other countries. Since 1836 there have been made
minor changes and extensions of the American
law, which have preserved and developed the
general symmetry of the system ; but with this
development there have appeared certain defects
and abuses which call for still further reform of
the system, the character of which can here be
only briefly indicated. — The most impressive
feature of the American system is its extraordinary
magnitude. There have now (1883) been issued
in this country since 1790, about 285,000 patents.
During the year 1882 there were acted upon in
the patent office 31,522 applications relating to
patents, and in the same time 18,267 patents were
issued or reissued. In that year only 6,099 pat-
ents expired; so that it appears that the number
of patents is now increasing at the rate of 12,000
a year, and the records of the patent office are
becoming enormously complicated. Patented in-
ventions are there classified in 167 classes and
more than 3,000 sub-classes. To preserve the
system in its integrity, it is obviously necessary,
first, that a patent should issue only for a new
invention, and secondly, that it should be clear
in its claims of all prior patents. A thorough
preliminary examination of an application for a
patent involves a search not only through our
patent office records, but also through the records
of the various foreign patent bureaus. A still
more difficult task is to adjust the claims of a new
application so as not to conflict with innumerable
prior patents. It is vitally important both to the
applicant and to the public that this investigation
should be thorough and complete. This is every
day becoming more difficult; and it is stated that
not a week passes without the allowance of one
or more patents at Washington for old inventions.
Nor is this strange when we consider the number
and complexity of the records to be searched, and
the number of patents annually taken out upon
certain subjects of invention. During the year
1882, ninety-nine patents were issued at Washing-
ton for cultivators and cultivator appliances alone.
To remedy the acknowledged defects in the ad-
ministration of our present system, several reforms
have been suggested, the merits of which are
obvious. These are: first, the requirement of a
higher standard of invention to sustain a patent,
rejecting the host of applications for merely
Obvious and mechanical improvements now indis-
Criminately allowed, which would relieve the
records of the patent office and at the same time
Secure to the community and the inventor the
benefits of all true inventions; second, the estab-
lishment of periodical fees as in the European
Countries, for the non-payment of which the
patent should become void. This again would
relieve the records by weeding out unsuccessful
inventions from the patented list, and at the same
time would work no hardship on the inventor,
who, of course, derives no benefit from a pat-
ented failure. — Another defect in our patent sys-
tem is the procedure in the patent office through
which the question of priority of invention
between two or more applications for the same
invention is determined. Without the constitu-
tion and without the judicial training and ex-
perience of a court of law, the examiners of
interferences are called upon to decide, after a
quasi trial, the most difficult questions of fact, in
connection with which difficult questions of evi-
dence often arise. And after the question has
been litigated and settled in the patent office, it is
not regarded as res adjudicata, but may have to
be tried anew when the question of priority is
afterward raised in court. The hardship of this
can be realized when it is stated that these inter-
ference proceedings often take one, two or even
three years before a final decision is reached, and
involve the same outlay of money as do similarly
protracted legal proceedings. But after all this,
the successful party has not an adjudicatcd patent
right, but an ordinary patent, which may be called
in question in court. The successful litigant, as
the outcome of his long litigation, has merely won
a presumption. Moreover, there is no provision
under the present system for mulcting the unsuc-
cessful party in the costs of the proceeding; and
the way is thus thrown open to any unscrupulous
practitioner to debar and hinder an inventor from
obtaining his patent, by merely filing a conflicting
application, with an oath that he is the inventor;
and thus, without exposing himself to any liability
beyond prosecution for perjury, he may involve
the inventor in long and expensive litigation.
So also there is no provision for the application
of the doctrine of estoppel. The most obvious
remedy for this defect is either to allow the rival
inventors to litigate the question in court in the
first instance, and issue the patent to the prevailing
party; or else to restrict the function of the pat-
ent office to the investigation of the question of
novelty, to issue the patent to the first applicant,
and grant to subsequent applicants certificates of
invention which would enable them, if they chose,
to call in question in court the rights of the pat-
entee. Unquestionably, however, inventors should
be relieved from the possibility of being obliged
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
137
to litigate the same questions twice, as is the case
under the present practice. — The decision of the
supreme court in Miller vs. Brass Company (104
U. S., 350), and the later decisions following this
case, have had the effect of reforming a great
abuse which existed in the practice of indiscrimi-
nately reissuing patents. The statute made pro-
vision for reissue where the original patent was
defective through inadvertence or mistake of the
inventor; but in the patent office the practice had
grown up of expanding patents by reissue so as to
include more than the inventors originally claimed
or invented. This practice was denounced as
vicious in the above cited case, and is now no
longer possible. — A change in the statute law,
which has been suggested to congress by commis-
Sioners for several years past, is the repeal of the
provision which limits the term of a patent, where
the invention has first been patented in a foreign
country, to the life of the foreign patent having
the shortest term to run. The motive which in-
Serted this clause in our patent code was, to secure
the patenting of important inventions in this
country first, and perhaps also to obviate the Sup-
posed difficulty of continuing the American patent
after the foreign one had expired, and thereby
placing domestic industries at a disadvantage in
the competition with foreign trade. In fact,
however, this provision operates harshly upon the
native inventor, who, if he first takes out his
American patent, loses his right to patents in
several European countries. The advantages of
this law arc by no means sufficient to compensate
for the inconvenience it causes, and the provision
should certainly be expunged from the statute
book. — It has also been suggested, that in certain
Cases there should be established some means of
compelling patentees to grant licenses, as has just
been done in England by the bill which received
the royal assent in August, 1883; but the policy
of this measure is at least doubtful. A more
politic change would be the insertion in our pat-
ent code of a statute of limitations covering claims
for infringement. Infringement is in the nature
of a tort, and the claim should, therefore, after
the analogy of other torts, be barred after a short
term of years. — Other and more radical reforms
that have been suggested are, the creation of
special tribunals to adjudicate the questions of
patent law, whose judges should possess the nec-
essary technical and scientific, as well as legal,
attainments; and also the establishment of some
means of securing to the court the opinions of
absolutely unbiased experts upon the problems
of science and mechanics which arise in the trial
of patent causes. The present use — or, more
properly, abuse—of expert testimony in patent
litigation, is hopelessly confusing to the court,
and renders its decisions uncertain and unreliable,
as the conclusions of the court are often based
upon the premises established by expert evidence.
There should be some way, therefore, of enabling
the court to call in the assistance of eminent
Scientists whose opinions would be uncolored by
retainers from either of the litigants. –Finally, it
should be mentioned that, upon several occasions,
the adoption of an international patent code has
been recommended, especially by the patent con-
gress at Vienna in 1873. There are at present no
indications that such a universal system will be
established, but it may yet be safe to conclude
that this will be the final step in the develop-
ment of the patent system, and that the time is
perhaps not very remote when that step will be
taken. —W. FoEEIGN PATENT LAws. Taking
its origin in England, the patent system has now
been extended into more than forty states, prov-
inces and principalities. Switzerland and Holland
are the only considerable civilized powers at pres-
ent without a system of patent laws, and in both
countries strenuous efforts are being made to have
a patent code enacted. Roughly speaking, the
foreign patent systems, with one or two excep-
tions, differ from the American in not requiring
an exhaustive preliminary examination of the in-
vention as to novelty and utility before issuing
the patent. Other differences may be observed
from the following summary of patent laws. –
Great Britain. Patents are issued for the term
of fourteen years from the date of the application,
subject, however, to the payment of a tax of £50
at the end of the third year, and £100 at the end
of the seventh year. The statute of monopolies
provided for the patenting of “new manufac-
tures,” but by judicial construction this term had
been made to cover the four classes of inventions
enumerated in the American act, and the act of
1852 substituted the term “inventions.” The
patent is issued either to the first inventor or to
the “first importer,” who is generally the agent
of the foreign inventor. The usual procedure in
taking out a patent is first to obtain “provisional
protection” for six months, after obtaining which
“notice to proceed” is given and advertised in
the “Commissioners of Patents Journal,” with a
notification that opposition to the application
must be made within twenty-one days from the
date of the notice. Three weeks before the expi-
ration of the “provisional protection,” application
for the law officers' warrant and great seal is
made. The final specification is then lodged, and
the patent issues for fourteen years from the date
of the application. To sustain a patent it is only
necessary that the invention should be new within
the United Kingdom; and an invention patented
elsewhere can be patented in Great Britain at any
time during the life of the foreign patent unless
a specification or complete description of it exists
in the kingdom before the British application is
made. The validity of a patent is, however,
generally left to be adjudicated by the courts;
and it is practically the mere grant of a right to
sue for infringement so long as the validity of the
patent is unimpeached. Important changes in
this law, which were made by parliament during
the present year (1883), and are to go into effect
Jan. 1, 1884, may be summarized as follows: the
cost of patents has been greatly reduced; power
138
PATENTS, AND THE PATENT SYSTEM.
has been given the board of trade to grant com-
pulsory licenses in certain cases; and the provision
that the British patent lapsed with the expiry of
any foreign patent of anterior date has not been
re-enacted. — Canada has a patent system resem-
bling that of the United States, and the various
Australian colonies and provinces have systems
differing somewhat in detail, but substantially
like the English in outline and theory. — France.
Patents are issued upon substantially the same
classes of inventions as in England and the Unit-
ed States, and extend for a term of fifteen years,
subject to an annual tax of 100 francs. No pre-
liminary examination of the invention is made,
and the applicant is considered to be the first
inventor until the contrary is proved. The ques-
tion of the validity of the patent is thus entirely
left to the courts, and in all patent litigation
the burden of proof rests upon those who would
oppose or impeach the patent. The novelty re-
quired is novelty over the entire world, and an
invention must therefore be patented in France.
at least as early as in any other country, as other-
wise the foreign publication of the specification
before the issue of the French patent, would in-
validate the latter. The specification must give
as full a description as is required by the Ameri-
can law, and the invention must be worked in
France within two years of the date of the patent,
to preserve its validity. — Germany. The present
patent system dates from July, 1877. Patents are
granted for the term of fifteen years upon all new
inventions, with some exceptions, such as foods
and medicines, and are subject to an annual tax,
which increases fifty marks each year of the life
of the patent. The patent is issued to the first
applicant, except where the application is shown
to be made fraudulently. The patent office is sit-
uated at Berlin, and an examination of the inven-
tions submitted is made by examiners somewhat
as in the United States. Before issuing the patent
the specification is published, and opportunity
given, for eight weeks, to oppose the grant of the
patent on various grounds, as fraud or want of
novelty. At the end of that time, if there is no
opposition, the patent is granted. As in France,
the invention must be worked within the limits of
the empire within three years from the grant of
the patent, to preserve its validity; and in certain
cases the owners of patents are required to grant
licenses at reasonable royalties. Willful infringe-
ment is, under some circumstances, a crime, pun-
ishable by fine, and all infringement may be
restrained by civil proceedings. – Belgium. All
applications for patents are granted without exam-
ination as to novelty, if they conform to the pre-
scribed form, and all new inventions, except
medical appliances and medicines, can be protected
by patent. Patents are of three classes: of inven-
tion, of addition, and of importation. A patent
of invention issues for the term of twenty years,
subject to a tax, which increases ten francs each
year of the life of the patent. The patent is void
if the invention is not new within Belgium, or if
Belgian application.
any description has been published or foreign.
patent taken out upon it before the date of the
A patent of addition is taken
for an improvement of an invention already pat-
ented, and expires with the original patent. A
patent of importation issues for the unexpired
term of any foreign patent, if the invention has
not been commercially worked within Belgium.
for more than a year prior to the application.
The specification must be full and exact, as in the
United States, and the remedies for infringement
are substantially the same as in other countries. –
Italy. Patents are granted for the term of fifteen
years, or for a shorter term, upon all new inven-
tions except medicines. A peculiarity of the
Italian law is the provision that if the invention
be patented elsewhere, the Italian patent continues.
with the foreign patent of the longest term, if
within fifteen years. The invention is required to
be worked in Italy within two years, and the pat-
ent is subject to annual taxes. – Russia. Patents
are granted for a maximum term of ten years.
upon all new and useful inventions. An exam-
ination of the invention, both as to novelty and
utility, is made, and apparently a high standard.
as to both qualities is required. Patents upon
inventions previously patented elsewhere are:
granted for only six years, or less if any foreign
patent expires within that time. — Sweden. The
duration of patents is fifteen years, or less if any
prior foreign patent expires within that time, and
the duration is fixed in each case by the chamber
of commerce. The patent issues only to the in-
ventor. The patent can not be impeached after it.
has been issued eight months, but the invention
must be worked in Sweden within from one to
four years from the date of the patent, to preserve
its validity, and yearly proof of such working
must be given during the life of the patent. —
Spain. Four kinds of patents are granted in
Spain. A patent of invention is granted for
twenty years, and a patent of importation for ten
years if the foreign patent is not more than two
years old; a third species of patent is granted for
five years to any person who will work an inven-
tion hitherto unpracticed in Spain, although known
there theoretically; finally, patents of addition are
granted for improvements, which expire with the
patent for the main invention. Each Spanish
patent covers Spain, the Balearic Isles, Cuba,
Porto Rico and the Philippine Islands. All new
inventions, except medicines, may be patented,
and the invention must be worked within the
Spanish dominions within two years from the
date of the patent. — BIBLIOGRAPHY. Coke, 3.
Inst., 184; Collier, Essay on the Law of Patents
for New Inventions, London, 1803; Hands, The
Law and Practice of Patents for Inventions, LOn-
don, 1808; Godson, A Practical Treatise on the
Law of Patents for Inventions and of Copyright;
Rankin, An Analysis of the Law of Patents, Lon-
don, 1824; Fessenden, Essay on the Law of Patents
for New Inventions, Boston, 1822; Renouard,
Traité des Brevets d’Invention, Paris, 1825; Reg-
PATRONA.G.E.
139.
nault, De la Legislation et de la Jurisprudence des
Prevets d’Invention, Paris, 1825; Carpmael, Law
of Patents for Inventions, London, 1836; Edwards,
On Letters Patent for Inventions, London, 1865;
Aston, A Paper on the Patent Laws; Dircks, The
Policy of a Patent Law; Brown, Popular Treatise
on Patent Laws, London, 1874; Macfie, Abolition
of Patents: Recent Discussions ºn the United Kºng-
dom, and on the Continent, London, 1869; Macfie,
Copyright and Patents for Inventions,London, 1883;
Chevalier, Patents for Inventions Fa'amined ºn their
Relations to the Principle of Freedom of Industry;
Thompson, Handbook of Patent Law, London, 1882;
Curtis, Law of Patents, 4th ed., Boston, 1873; Si-
monds, Summary of the Law of Patents, New York,
1883; Kleinschrod, Die Internationale Patentgesetz-
gebung mach ihren Prinzipien, 1855; Loosey, Collec-
tion of the Laws of Patent Privileges, Vienna, 1849;
Gareis, Patentgesetzgebung, Berlin, 1879; Phillips,
Law of Patents for Inventions, N. Y., 1837; Whit-
man, Patent Laws and Practice of Obtaining Letters
Patent for Inventions, 2d ed., Washington, 1875;
Hindmarch, A Treatise on the Law relating to Patent
Privileges, Lond., 1846; Webster, Law and Practice of
Letters Patent for Inventions, Lond., 1841; Johnson,
Patentee’s Manual, 3d ed., Lond., 1866; Walker on
Patents, N. Y., 1883; Merwin, Patentability of In-
oentioms, Boston, 1883. F. W. WHITRIDGE.
PATRONAGE, in the sense in which it comes
especially within the scope of this work, is the
control of appointments and employments for po-
sitions of a public nature. Broadly considered,
it extends to all selections of persons for service
in corporations, churches, Schools and other posi-
tions not within the private business of the person
to whom the patronage belongs. It may also be
regarded as including honors, decorations and
pensions, under aristocratic institutions. In law
the power of appointment and employment usu-
ally, but not always, includes the power of pro-
motion, removal and dismissal. It will be con-
venient, however, to treat these powers separately.
(See PROMOTIONS, REMOVALS FROM OFFICE,
SPOILs SYSTEM.)—Patronage of a character more
or less peculiar arises out of civil, military and
naval administration, respectively. Wherever
there is a state church or an ecclesiastical estab-
lishment, there is, as a consequence, a kind of
patronage unknown under the government of the
United States. If we had space for pursuing the
subject from the public departments down through
the management of landed estates, factories,
mines, ships, railroads, banks, insurance compa-
nies, and manifold other corporations in which
the selection and dismissal of many subordinates
is an important part of the duties of superior
officials, as well as a prolific source of favoritism,
corruption and extravagance, we should find the
subject full of interest and importance. We can
hardly go beyond its more public relations, and
shall especially consider its responsibilities and
abuses. – In its primary sense, in politics and the
Church, patronage was a friendly care exercised
by a superior over those who had in some way
come under his protection, calling for generosity
and disinterestedness on the part of him who
possessed it. Works of charity, beneficences and
patriotism were said to be placed under the pat-
ronage of the great and the good; thus inviting
sacrifice and support as a duty. In Rome patron-
age marked a peculiar social relation between the
highest class and that next in order, based upon
the reciprocal relation of protection and loyalty.
While the more honorable application of the
word is not unknown in our day, patronage is
now generally accepted as implying a selfish if
not a venal relation, or use of authority and influ-
ence. The patronage we are most familiar with
is that which is used, more or less unscrupulously
or corruptly, to aid a party, a church, a faction,
a chieftain, or perhaps the official himself who
exercises it, his relatives and his favorites. Yet.
the legal control of selections for office and pub-
lic employments, when wisely and conscientiously
exercised, is patronage in the worthy sense. In
refusing any political connection between the
government and the organizations and officials of
religion, the framers of our system avoided a
large amount of the most pernicious patronage.
by which both the churches and the civil admin-
istration of the older nations have been compli-
cated and corrupted. So patronage under our
system was still further limited by our rejection
of class distinctions, social orders, titles, and a
complicated system of discretionary pensions in
civil life. It hardly nced be pointed out that
under despotic and monarchical governments this.
additional patronage of the crown, in the form of
a power to create political distinctions of rank, to
fill the high places in the church, to confer deco-
rations, pensions and social precedence, has been
no small part of the effective force and coherence
of the government, as it has been of the sources of
corruption. “Patronage-mongering” is a kind
of criminal offense in Great Britain, against which
criminal laws contain provisions. It was a maxim
of Napoleon that “religion and honors are the
two things by which mankind may be governed ”;
and even in this decade, Arthur Helps, in his
“Thoughts on Government,” says the conferring
of honors is an important function of government.
And this is not all; for that form of government.
which creates a landed aristocracy and a church
hierarchy lays the foundation of a vast social
patronage on the part of nobles and great Officials,
while it does not diminish the patronage incident
to the ordinary civil, military and naval adminis-
tration. Hardly more than this latter patronage
can exist under our institutions. But it is plain
that, as wealth and population increase, making
government, business and society alike more com-
plicated, the amount and power of patronage,
becoming more and more Social and mercenary,
must greatly increase. — The civil administration
of the federal government was carried on the
first year with a revenue of two million dollars,
and with probably less than a thousand Officials:
140
PATRONAGE.
it has now a hundred thousand. The federal
postal service in the beginning required only
seventy-five postmasters. Under Jackson’s ad-
ministration it required 8,000. Now there are more
than 45,000 postmasters. The increase of state
and municipal officials has been in much the same
ratio. In New York city alone there are more
than 2,500 civil officials under the federal govern-
ment. About 10,000 officials serve there in the
employment of the state and the city; the lat-
ter earning annual salaries amounting tô about
$10,000,000. To all those, army and navy officers
and the great number of federal, state and muni-
cipal employés must be added. In order to gain
some definite conception of the stupendous po-
tency of patronage in this country, even as a
mere political force, we must consider the whole
body of its officials and employés, federal, state
and municipal, perhaps half a million in all; the
vast sums paid to them; the manifold bargains,
beggings, intrigues and contentions for these
places; the formidable and ever active power of
removal and promotion; to say nothing of the
constant and vast authority for discipline, regh-
lation and favors on the part of those by whom
patronage is wielded. There is not a state, county,
city, ward, town or village, if even there be a
school district or hamlet, in which patronage is
not a constant political and social influence that
is courted or feared. In each nomination and
election, from those of the president and the
governors down to those of trustees, justices and
constables, the element of patronage enters as a
suspected and efficient element, whether it be the
patronage of existing officials who intermeddle, or
the patronage—hoped for or feared—of the officer
about to be created. In the eyes of political man-
agcrg patronago is ono of the most sure and potent
of forces, never lost sight of in campaigns, and
almost never recognized as under moral obliga-
tions. Candidates are regarded by the politician
class as available in the ratio of their adroitness
in promising and their unscrupulousness in using
patronage to bribe voters, to reward electioneerers,
to buy the press, and to conciliate opponents and
rivals. Appearing as an element in large measure
extraneous to the merits of the candidate and
the interests of the voters, the influence of pat-
ronage very naturally and easily tends to de-
moralize and corrupt. This result is helped by
the fact that no other great and venal influence
in politics is with so much facility exercised in
secrecy, or is so readily kept beyond fear of re-
sponsibility. Bribery by the use of money may
leave some traces in aid of detection, but how
can it be proved in court that a hint or hope of
a place or of an official favor secured a nom-
ination, a vote, or a supporter? How can it be
proved in a court that the fear of removal makes
a large proportion of our officials servile hench-
men of patronage-mongers, or that hundreds
voted for a member of Congress, a mayor or a
governor, upon some assurance—not of course in
a formal promise—that the patronage of the new
official would be used for the advantage of venal
voters? Unworthy relatives, favorites, hench-
men and dependents are appointed or hired in
superfluous numbers for the public service by
patronage-mongering Officials; but how is it possi-
ble, except in extreme cases, to prove any wrong
beyond the unwise exercise of a large and but
loosely defined official discretion? There is, per-
haps, no form of abuse in public affairs so easily
practiced as that form of patronage prostitution
which can secretly take place between a corrupt
officer and a venal office seeker. One of the
great evils of political life, under all forms of gov-
ernment, has been the abuse of official discretion
in the use of patronage corruptly or selfishly.
And it hardly need be said that, under the repub-
lican system in the United States—greatly as the
sphere of patronage has been curtailed—it is yet
one of the most potent elements of corruption
and extravagance in our politics, the portentous
effects of which are arousing the patriotic classes
to a great effort for their removal. (See CIVIL
SERVICE REFORM.) The pressure for patronage
became very strong before any president yielded
to it. It was great under Jefferson, and greater
still under the last Adams. In 1825–6 the senate,
on motion of Mr. Macon, appointed a committee
to devise means for its reduction, which made an
able report. The committee’s report speaks of the
“ political machine,” and urges the necessity of
arresting the growing power and corruption of
patronage. Five years before, Mr. Crawford, a
secretary of the treasury and a candidate for the
presidency, had procured the passage of a bill
creating a four-years term for collectors, as Mr.
Adams says, for the purpose of increasing his
patronage. — It should not be overlooked that
a part of the power and corruption of patron-
age grows out of the ability of political man-
agers and the patronage-mongering class to tax
the salaries of office holders for the payment of
party and election expenses. (See POLITICAL
AsSESSMENTS.) The patronage system has yet
another great element of strength—the ability
of party managers and the lords of patronage
to compel those to whom they give offices and
employment to work, vote and be obedient to
their orders in all political matters. In that fea-
ture of the system, which impairs the proper self-
respect and independence of the public servant,
is the great source alike of the servility of our
subordinate officials and of the arrogance and
potency of chieftains and party managers. No
element adds more than this to the fierceness of
these contests for patronage in which victory gives
them a following of feudal dependents. (See
SPOILs SYSTEM.) The abuse of patronage has
not been confined to those upon whom the law
confers it, but members of legislatures, of con-
gress and of city councils, have usurped the ap-
pointing power of the executive, for the purpose
of taking to themselves the patronage for their
own advantage. Nothing is more essential to
good administration than a real Separation, in
PATRONAGE.
141
practice, of the executive from the legislative
department, which is so carefully provided in our
constitution and in that of every other enlight-
ened nation. Indeed, the stability and perpetuity
of the government depend on the preservation
of the counterpoise of these departments. The
officers at the head of the administration can
be made to feel responsible for its good manage-
ment directly—discipline can be preserved there-
in—only when they are able to control the selec-
tion and removal of all those below them. When
presidents, governors or mayors are disposed to
treat the power of selection and removal of their
subordinates as so much patronage to be used
selfishly in their own interest or that of their
party, we know that great evils threaten the pub-
lic interests. Still, when the authority and duty
of selection and removal are, as they should be,
left solely in the executive branch, the sense of
undivided responsibility to the people is a salu-
tary restraint. But no such sense of responsibil-
ity is felt when that power has been usurped by
the members of the legislative department. The
people do not regard the executive officer, nor
does he feel himself responsible for good admin-
istration. The two departments secretly unite in
foisting their electioneering agents, their favor-
ites and dependents, upon the pay rolls of the
treasury. Neither feels responsible for what he
helped to do. —Looked at from another point of
view, we see it to be most dangerous to allow leg-
islators—who fix salaries and the number to be
employed in the executive service, and whose
special duty it is to expose and arrest all abuses
therein—to acquire a selfish and partisan interest
in the increase of the numbers and Salaries of
these subordinates. They have no longer the
courage or independence needed for that duty.
The first salary to be reduced may be that of the
relative or favorite of a member; the first person
that should be dismissed, his electioneering agent.
Yet members of congress—and of legislatures
only in less degree—have become the greatest
patronage-mongers of the country.; usurping
control over such subordinates in order to gain
the patronage of places to be pledged for votes
and other support in their elections; thus becom-
ing directly interested, for themselves and their
party, in the increase of the members and com-
pensation of such subordinates. In that way,
congressmen, in duty bound to aid the high exec-
utive officers in the practice of economy, have,
through their appeals and Solicitations for more
patronage, become a cause of extravagance and
corruption alike. They go through the depart-
ments and besiege secretaries and heads of bu-
reaus for places. Congressional patronage—
usurped congressional patronage, for, legally and
properly, congressmen have no patronage what-
ever—has become one of the most corrupting and
dangerous influences in our national affairs. In
no way perhaps does it appear more threatening
than in connection with the power of confirma-
tion by the senate. (See CONFIRMATION.) This
many votes.
Congressional usurpation of patronage has not
been confined to civil offices, but extends to ap-
pointments in the military and naval service
likewise. It has also taken from the executive
almost exclusive control of the selections of
cadets for the military and naval schools at
West Point and Annapolis. Many members
have unquestionably exercised this usurped
control patriotically and honestly. Public opin-
ion has so overawed others that they have,
with great advantage to those schools, al-
lowed the cadetships included in their patronage
to be freely competed for and to be bestowed
upon the most worthy, as shown by the compet-
itive examinations. But in a great majority of
cases, the patronage of these cadet selections
has been simply added by congressmen to the
mass of their civil patronage, which is one of the
great forces that determine congressional nom-
inations and elections. Vague hints in various
quarters, that support may gain an appointment
to one of these schools, may be made to Secure
To gain control of as much patron-
age as possible before the elections, and after the
elections to find places for those to whom they
have promised appointments and employment as
a reward for electioneering, votes and puffing,
during elections, absorb no small portion of the
time and thoughts of all the more unscrupulous
and partisan candidates and members of con-
gress. – The late President Garfield spoke em-
phatically on these points. In a speech at Will-
iams college, he said: “Congressilieſt liave be-
come the dispensers, sometimes the brokers, of
patronage. One-third of the working hours of
senators and representatives is hardly sufficient
to meet the demands made upon them in refer-
ence to appointments for office.” In an article
in the “Atlantic Monthly,” for July, 1877, he
says: “The present system invades the independ-
ence of the executive, and makes him less respon-
sible for the character of his appointments; it
impairs the efficiency of the legislator, by divert-
ing him from his proper sphere of duty and in-
volving him in the intrigues of the aspirants for
office.” In a speech in congress, in 1870, he made
it clear that congressional pressure for patronage
is as willful on the part of members as it is
disastrous to the country. This is his language:
“We press such appointments upon the depart-
ments; we crowd the doors; Senators and repre-
sentatives throng the bureaus and offices until
the public business is obstructed; the patience of
officers is worn out, and sometimes for fear of
losing their places by our influence, they at last
give way and appoint men, not because they are fit
for the position, but because we ask it.” As a fur-
ther example of the consequences of the abuse of
patronage, it may be stated, upon what seems
reliable authority, that at least one-third of the
time of President Garfield (before his injury)
was absorbed by applicants for office, and that
more than six-sevenths of the calls made upon
one of his secretaries during a period of three
142
PATRONAGE.
months were for office seeking. Such are the effects
in the higher departments of the government of
converting the appointing power into patronage
for selfish and partisan purposes. We have no
space for tracing the consequences of a similar
prostitution of patronage in state legislatures,
city councils, or in the various grades of office
throughout the country. (For a general state-
ment of the abuses with which this prostitution
is connected, see SPOILs SYSTEM.)—So vast and
familiar have the evils of patronage become, that
Some of the American people almost despair of
their removal, while many more have come to
regard them as original and inevitable under our
institutions. It will not, therefore, be unprofita-
ble to refer to the same evils and the manner of
their removal in Great Britain, to whose adminis-
trative system ours is most analogous. (See Ea-
ton’s “Civil Service in Great Britain.”)—Wher-
ever government purely despotic exists, offices
and places are bestowed absolutely in the discre-
tion of the ruler. Patronage, in its usual sense,
can only exist where some degree of obligation
to use it for the common benefit is recognized by
the appointing power, and that power is, in some
measure, held by great officers of state. Under
the lowest forms of patronage we find offices and
places salable, that is, treated as perquisites and
merchandise, with but the faintest recognition of
a moral obligation in the matter. We have only
to go back a century or two in the history of the
leading nations of Europe, to come upon a period
when every grade of office and public employ-
ment and the patronage of the same were bought
and sold, either openly or secretly, by kings, by
princes, by nobles and bishops, by generals and
admirals, by lords and those of every grade in
the social and Oſleial scale luſlueuiial euuugll lu
purchase or control a bit of patronage. Even
within this century the English government has
provided by law for the purchase, by itself, of pat-
Tonage and offices (for the purpose of making them
really public again), which had been for many gen-
erations private property, mere merchandise in the
hands of patronage-mongers. In the British army
the buying and selling of offices and the patronage
of the same were openly carried on and were rec-
ognized as legal by the government, under the
name of “purchase,” up to 1871. English army
officers generally obtained their commissions by
purchasing them at the market price. The pat-
romage of these offices had formerly been in a
considerable measure a part of the perquisites of
members of parliament. And when, in 1870, the
attempt was made to suppress that patronage-
merchandise, there were members of parliament
who contended that such a system of patronage
and purchase was essential to good army admin-
istration in Great Britain, just as there are now
many members in our congress and many intelli-
gent politicians who contend that civil patronage
is essential to the life of parties and the manage-
ment of our politics. So strongly was that theory
supported in Great Britain that the bill for the
tration.
Suppression of patronage and purchase in the
army was thrown out in the house of lords in
1871; but the abuse was in the same year sup-
pressed by a royal warrant which superseded the
old regulation on which purchase had rested. It
was, however, only done on the basis of an allow-
ance by the government to the army patronage-
vendees, as having a vested property in what they
had purchased. An open competition of merit, de-
termined by examinations, took the place of pat-
romage and purchase for gaining office in the army,
and Cadetships in the military and naval schools.
And promotions have been generally placed on
the same basis (with a certain regard for senior.
ity), to the credit and advantage of those parts
Of the public service. — Almost from the or-
ganization of the state church of England, there
has been a complicated system of merchantable
patronage in its official life, nor is it by any means
yet suppressed. Greatly as the public opinion of
this country is blinded and blunted by long famil-
iarity with the evils of patronage in our political
administration, it can hardly contemplate without
a shock the prostitution of patronage which long
existed in that church, or even look without sur-
prise upon the part of it which still survives there
after patronage has ceased in her civil adminis-
Many of our party managers, who regard
our vicious political patronage as original here, if
not as quite defensible, affect astonishment at its
counterpart in the church of England; they are
too blinded or too ignorant to comprehend the
fact that the same form of patronage we tolerate
long existed in Great Britain, but has been sup-
pressed there by methods which might be made
equally salutary here. — The appointment of arch-
bishops and bishops, until the present century,
was lllele as Vellal, Illel Uellaly allul I egårdlū83 of
the public interests as the creation of noblemen,
the gift of pensions and the bestowal of franchises,
all of which were in large measure bestowed as
bribes or as rewards for subserviency to the crown
or the aristocracy. George III. made his infant
son a bishop. It was the custom for an archbish-
op on the consecration of a bishop, to name a favor-
ite of his own, whom the bishop was to “take care
of,” that is, to provide with a place and a salary.
The bishop imitated that example in dealing with
the rector; and thus through every grade a system
of vicious patronage extended, down to the beadle
and the chorister. This patronage was protected
by law, as in the nature of property; that of the
archbishop being known as his “option.” Si-
mony and nepotism were but designations of a
particular phase of patronage. The right, or priv-
ilege, of officiating in a church (as a minister, ac-
cording to our phraseology) was called a “ben-
efice,” or, in popular language, a “living,” a name
which marks the mercenary view taken of it.
The right to hold this benefice, or living, was an
“advowson,” which was, in other words, the pat-
romage of the rectorship or church. That patron-
age of a church, the advowson, including the titles
and income, was sometimes regularly bought and
PATRONA.G.E.
143
sold long after the edifice had gone to decay, and
the worshipers had died or scattered. The ad-
vowson (or right of filling the benefice) might
be bought and many times transferred while an
occupying rector was still officiating. The owner
of the advowson was the patron of the benefice.
This advowson, or patronage, was emphatically
property, and was as fully protected by law and as
regularly and openly bought and sold as cattle or
grain; and with considerable limitations favorable
to capacity, character and publicity, advowsons in
the church of England are still generally bought
and sold. The person presented by the purchaser,
or the purchaser himself if he wishes to officiate,
must be approved by the bishop before he can
enter upon the enjoyment of his living; but the
worshipers have no power to keep him out or to
put one of their choice in, not even so much power
of that kind as have our citizens to secure a good
appointment in a city department against the will
of the “boss” or the party managers. Many ad-
vowsons are at all times in the market for sale.
The following is a specimen advertisement (of a
very usual form) cut from the “London Times,”
of September, 1870 : “Advowson for Sale (a Rec-
tory), situated close to a good town in an eastern
county. Situation most healthy and pleasant.
•Good society. Income, about £250 a year; and
there is a prospect of a very early possession;
excellent vicarage house, grounds, etc. Address
.J. B. Hill, 51 Hollywood Road, West Brompton.”
—What scandalous consequences followed such
a patronage system in more despotic and corrupt
times, Mr. Froude tells us (History, vol. v., pp.
255–257) in this language : “In the country the
patron of the benefice no longer made distinction
between a clergyman and a layman. * * He
presented his huntsman, his steward or his game
ićeeper. * * The cathedrals and churches of
London became the chosen scenes of riot and
profanity, St. Paul’s was the stock exchange of
the day, where the merchants met for business and
the lounge; where gallants gambled and fought,
and killed each other.” It was the natural result
of Such a system of church patronage, that he
who had bought the office or place in the church
was regarded as the owner of it, and under the
‘common law of England even parish clerks and
sextons have freeholds in their offices. – Patron-
age in the church of Scotland was hardly less
mercenary and disastrous. It was known as “lay
patronage.” John Knox in vain attempted to
arrest it. It secured recognition by law, and led
to Scandalous acts of violence. For generations
it was a prolific source of venality, favoritism and
corruption, not only in the Scotch church, but in
the whole civil administration of Scotland. It
finally became so intolerable to the better senti-
ment of the Scotch church that in the first quarter
of this century it caused a disruption of the
church itself. Dr. Chalmers, leading the party
which made a stand against patronage, secured a
majority in the general assembly in 1834. A long
litigation followed, in which the Scotch church
patronage-mongers had the hearty sympathy of
the English patronage-mongers. The courts af-
firmed a right of private property in church pat-
romage. Thereupon Dr. Chalmers left the state
church, and carried with him more than one-third
of all the clergy of the church of Scotland.
“Their once crowded churches were surrendered
to others, while they went forth to preach on the
hillsides, and in tents, barns and stables.” (2
May's Constitutional History, p. 442.) In eighteen
years more than $26,000,000 were contributed for
the purposes of the new organization, now known
as the “Free Church of Scotland.” — Supported
by such elements of venality and corruption out-
side of party politics, it is hardly necessary to say
that patronage in the civil administration of Great
Britain was far worse than any we have yet devel-
oped, or that its removal was made far more diffi-
cult by reason of the patronage-mongers of the
army, of the church and of the civil administra-
tion making common cause together. Whatever
reform directly threatened one, indirectly threat-
ened all. In her civil administration every grade
of office and place centuries ago became patronage
in the control of somebody—of the crown, of the
princes, of nobles, of bishops, of great landlords,
of cabinet officers, of members of parliament, of
parties and of party managers. More grossly and
boldly than ever with us, unworthy men were
given places, and needless numbers were foisted
upon the public pay-rolls, in order to increase the
amount of patronage. As with us, the public offi-
cials and employés neglected their duties in order
to serve their patrons; and the most intolerable
incompetency, inefficiency and corruption existed
in the municipal administration. In the greed
for increasing patronage, and for making it valu-
able to patronage-mongers and parties, the para-
mount tests for appointments were not fitness, but
opinions, and the promise and prospect of work
for the party and the patrons. – Until about the
beginning of this century parliament had not be-
come so potent in the state as to enable its members
to usurp any great share of patronage. But as
their influence increased, they used it to increase
their patronage. George III. was the last king
who was able by direct authority to put limits to
that parliamentary usurpation. He used the vast
patronage of the crown as relentlessly as Jackson
used that of the executive for partisan ends. He
also used public money, equally with patronage,
to corrupt opponents, to reward Supporters, to
make presents to favorites, and to bribe members
of parliament. Under his immediate successors,
members of parliament took to themselves the
largest part of all civil patronage, and they con-
tinued to hold and to use it in aid of their own
elections, their party and their favorites, until the
triumph of the reform policy by which it has been
suppressed. (See CIVIL SERVICE REFORM.) The
patronage of members of parliament finally be-
came the greatest and the most persistent obstacle
in the way of reform, just as the patronage of our
members of congress is now such an obstacle; in
144
PATRONAGE.
each country alike blinding the eyes, debauching
the conscience and corrupting the morals of the
members of the legislature; though such patron-
age here has by no means yet reached the shame-
less aggravation which it attained in Great Britain
during the first half of this century. But with
us it has one pernicious element not known, at
least in this century, in Great Britain—that of po-
litical assessments, through which the patronage-
mongering members of congress are able to coerce
the public servants to pay ready money as well
as do servile work for carrying congressional
elections. In Great Britain the sale of offices in
early times prevented the growth of the abuse of
assessments; for who would pay a full price for
an office, if, like ours, it was subject to an annual
rent in the form of an assessment to be fixed at
the discretion of members of parliament and party
chieftains? Members of parliament were so sus-
picious of each other, and scrambled so intolerably
among themselves for more and more patronage
and a greater share of what there was, that,
in mere self-protection, an officer was provided,
known as the “patronage secretary,” who arranged
and supervised an equitable apportionment of the
spoils; keeping books in which each member was
credited with his share, and debited from time
to time with the doles of the patronage he received.
We have only reached the stage of patronage
evolution at which much the same thing is done
secretly and in a scramble by our members of
congress, with frequent scruples and many pro-
testations of disgust. It only requires time, how-
ever, to reach the full stage of the flaunting,
shameless British development of fifty years ago.
— The experience of Great Britain is especially
interesting, not only as showing the results which
our evolution is soon likely to reach if not arrest-
ed, but as showing how such an evil, buttressed
by many elements of strength with which we are
not confronted, may be overcome. For patronage,
in any other sense than the mere exercise of the
appointing power in the public interest alone,
has, in the civil administration of Great Britain,
been, with very slight exceptions, suppressed.
Members of parliament have lost their usurped
control over appointments, and are therefore with-
out patronage of any kind. — After the creation
of a sounder public opinion, the principal means
there used for the Suppression of civil patronage
was the enforcement of rigid competitive exam-
inations of fitness before appointments, by which
the qualifications were tested which were required
for holding the places sought. (See CIVIL SER-
VICE REFORM, ante, and “Civil Service in Great
Britain,” by JD. B. Eaton.) Such examinations
and conditions are obviously fatal to all partisan
and mercenary enjoyment of patronage, and for
that reason were opposed by patronage-mongering
members of parliament, as they are now opposed
by our patronage-mongering members of congress.
— The work of patronage suppression in Great
Britain was also aided by more effective laws
against bribery (known as office brokerage laws)
than any in force in this country. (See work
last cited, pp. 132 to 139.) Our statutes make
bribery to consist in giving or promising “money
or something of value * for the doing of the act,
as voting, appointing, etc., and they do not ex-
tend to the promising of nominations or confirma-
tions, or to influence for procuring them. The
English statutes go much further; making it a
penal offense to enter into contract for, or to en-
gage in the business of, procuring offices or places
for a consideration of a corrupt nature, whether
valuable or not. The promise of official influence
for votes or appointments is such a consideration.
Some of the most comprehensive of our decisions
against bribery and the corrupt use of patronage
are based solely on English precedents—facts
which plainly illustrate the potency of the patron-
age interest in our legislation. —In the last few
years there has been a rapid growth of public
Opinion, which sternly condemns our patronage
system. Never has the levying of political assess-
ments been so vigorously arraigned as during the
present year (1883). More and more our statesmen
are becoming convinced that the enforcement of
that system does not even give strength to a party.
Sober reflection and a more careful observance of
facts are convincing them that fidelity to princi-
ples, the selection of worthy men for office, and
honest, efficient administration, and not a venal
and proscriptive use of patronage, are the true
and sufficient sources of vigor, vitality and power
in a party. British experience on the subject is
securing the attention of our thinkers in politics.
The enforcement of competitive examinations
at the postoffice and custom house at New York
city, through which the patronage there has been
suppressed, by enabling the most worthy to win
the places, in utter disregard and defeat of the
practices and interests of the old patronage-mong-
ers and chieftains of New York politics, has done
much to convince the public that only a practica-
ble and becoming effort is needed to achieve a
suppression of patronage in Our civil administra-
tion, as complete and salutary as that which has
been accomplished in that of Great Britain. — In
that broad sense in which patronage may be held
to include the legal and faithful exercise of the
appointing power, it must always exist, and must
become greater with the increase of our popula-
tion and commerce. What is needed is a public
opinion which shall be wise, virtuous and patriotic
enough to enforce such exercise of that power,
when aided by the better practical methods that
are available for our use. It is necessary that
every official should be educated to accept, and
compelled by law and public opinion to act upon,
the theory that there can be no proper and legal
public patronage in which any officers or citizens
can have a pecuniary interest, or, in other Words,
that there is no more moral or legal right to use
the appointing power than there is to use the pub-
lic money for the private advantage of any citizen,
officer or party. We must have a public opinion
which treats one of these offenses as being equally
PAUPERISMI.
145
reprehensible with the other. For the legal prin-
ciples applicable to this part of the subject, see
REMOVALs. DoRMAN B. EATON.
PATRONS OF HUSBANDRY. (See GRAN-
GERS.)
PAUPERISM. It is not to be supposed that
the essence of pauperism is anything else in Amer-
ica than it is now in Europe, or than it was in the
states of antiquity. But, just as the conditions
of poverty among the Romans, the Greeks, and
the Hebrews, were widely different from those of
England and France in the eighteenth century,
so now the conditions of poverty in a new and
advancing industrial republic like the United
States, must be very unlike those which have
prevailed among the Latin, the Sclavonic, the
Teutonic or the Celtic races of Europe; settled
as they are under ancient and fixed institutions,
where the distinctions of wealth and poverty are
comparatively immutable. Where class distinc-
tions have hardened into caste, pauperism must
be a different thing from that degree of poverty
which prevails among a people of permanent
equality, or of ever-changinginequality. The mod-
ern city and the manufacturing towns are strong
examples of this fluctuating inequality, where the
working man of to-day may be the industrial
chieftain ten years hence; and where vast fortunes,
Swiftly accumulated, are suddenly dispersed and
Scattered throughout a multitude. On the other
hand, the villages and rural districts of America,
and of some European countries, offer examples
of permanent equality, which, of all conditions,
is least favorable to pauperism. — M. Baudrillart,
in an article published in Block’s Dictionnaire de
la Politique, asserts that it is less than a century
since the sphinx of pauperism began to put her
destructive questions to the industrial nations of
Europe. But this “riddle of the painful earth’’
is no modern one, though its form may have
changed with the last century. The agglomera-
tion of poverty in great manufacturing centres,
like Manchester, Lyons, and the vast capital
citis of London, Paris, Vienna, etc., undoubted-
ly accentuates and renders more perceptible the
pauperism of the last half century. But is it
not also true, as M. Baudrillart says, that great
cities have always been sad nurseries of poverty?
In Rome, from the earliest period of its urban
greatness until it had been twice sacked by
the barbarians in the time of St. Augustine, a
period of at least five centuries, the relief of
the poor was one of the clief functions of the
state, and a very embarrassing one. The “corn
laws” of Caius Gracchus (B. C. 123) were poor-
laws; but the distribution of food under this ques-
tionable legislation was not wholly gratuitous,
until Clodius the demagogue made it so, in the
time of Caesar's Gallic war. Returning from his
victory over Pompey, Caesar found 320,000 per-
Sons. (the chronicles say) receiving this kind of
out-door relief, in and about Rome; more than a
129 VOL. III. — 10
fifth part of the whole population, if the figures
were reasonably exact. He reduced them to
150,000, which was still, perhaps, one in eight of
the populatioh. The civil wars that brought
Augustus to the throne raised this number to
300,000, which Augustus, in turn, reduced to
200,000; but when he gave his subjects an extraor-
dihary donative, says Merivale, “the numbers
who partook of his bounty swelled again to
320,000.” (History of the Romans under the Em-
pire, chap. xxxiv.) This careful English author
supposes that the 200,000 occasional paupers
mentioned by Augustus represented the whole
poorer sort of citizens; while the 320,000 included
those below the Senatorial and equestrian rank.
In any case, these enormous figures, though
swollen by duplications, like the pauper statistics
of modern times, show what a cancer pauperism
had become in imperial Rome, which devoted a
large share of its annual budget to the various
methods of relief. Under the Antonines, when
philanthropy and population had both increased,
the number on the poor-rates of Rome is stated
at 500,000. No modern city, except possibly
Paris in the famine years of the revolution, or
during the siege of 1871, could show so large a
proportion of paupers to population. For this
the simple reason seems to have been, that the
familiar saying of Franklin, “If every man and
woman would work four hours each day in some-
thing useful, that labor would produce sufficient
to procure all the necessaries and comforts of
life,” was far less descriptive of ancient Rome than
of great cities in recent times. – In this view,
and looking back over 2,000 years, it can hardly
be said, as M. Baudrillart maintains, that “the
concentration of pauperism has increased with the
progress of industry,” except in the restricted
sense that the concentration of inhabitants, which
industrial progress has produced, is necessarily
accompanied by a like concentration of poverty.
Indeed, the same writer goes on to say that this
very progress of industry has lessened the suffer-
ings of the poor, and increased the number of
those who live in comfort. This is certainly the
general result, though the crowding of artisans
and operatives into manufacturing centres does
often produce the sanitary, moral and economic
evils which we all recognize from M. Baudrill-
art's description. In too many cities of manu-
facturing industry, rents rise and wages fall;
the dark and narrow street, the promiscuous
lodging house, the damp cellar, become the
abode of laborious poverty, as well as of lurking
crime; the father of a family drinks, the wife de-
serts the cheerless home, the son becomes a
“loafer,” and the daughter a prostitute. This
happens often in France, Belgium and England,
and is not unknown in America ; to which the
operatives throng by thousands from those very
cities of Europe in which the evils mentioned
are most rife. It must not be forgotten, how-
ever, that the sharper contrast which cities afford
of the extremes of wealth and poverty, and the
146
PAUPERISM.
attractive force exercised by accumulated wealth
in drawing together a corresponding accumula-
tion of poverty, account in part for the startling
picture of misery and degradation which manu-
facturing towns so often furnish. The same
crime and misery scattered through a thousand
rural neighborhoods would affect the public sen-
sibility less than when it is found concentrated in
Birmingham, Mulhausen or the manufacturing
regions along the Rhine and its tributaries. – It
is further to be noted that, while the ancient cities
were capitals of conquest and of commerce,
the modern capitals are much more centres of
manufacture and of public resort. The present
age is migratory, both for the rich and the poor,
and even the classes between travel for business
or pleasure much more than the rich formerly
could. Rome is no longer the seat of empire,
but a caravansary for virtuosos and tourists;
Paris is the home of pleasure, but also, and still
more, the workshop of useful industry; so, too,
each in its degree, are Vienna and New York.
Migration, on the large scale in which it now
takes place in central and western Europe and in
America, is both a source of pauperism and a
check upon its growth. It is to the immigrants
and their children that we look for most of the
public poverty that is now seen in the United
States; yet the emigration of these very persons,
or their fathers, from Europe, has checked the
growth of pauperism in the countries they came
from. With these preliminary remarks we may
come at once to the subject in hand. —In a re-
stricted sense, pauperism is that degree of poverty
for which public relief is provided; in a broader
definition, it is that condition of body, or tem-
per of mind, in large numbers of people, which
makes them easy applicants for public or private
relief. In the former sense, the word is a mere
definition ; in the latter, it points to a distinct
and formidable social evil, always to be deplored,
though not to be wholly avoided. In neither
sense is it new to the world’s history, in the ear-
lier chapters of which we find traces that pauper-
ism was known and felt as an evil. But as a rec-
ognized and preventable evil, as a social solecism
and a public nuisance, it has never attracted so
much attention as now, in all parts of the world.
In early times slavery replaced pauperism, and
prevented its lesser mischiefs from receiving due
notice ; in the Christian dispensation, until re-
cently, the relief of the poor has been viewed as
a religious duty, and these mischiefs of pauper-
ism have sometimes been fostered in the name
of religion. For a century past, the saying of
Burke, that “the age of sophisters and econo-
mists has come,” is certainly true as applied to
this subject. The religious motive for dispensing
charity has been kept in the background, while its
economical demerits have been increasingly in-
sisted on. Were human nature other than it is,
the religious and philanthropic side of charity
might be expected to vanish from consideration,
while logic and utility should rule. But the so-
cial and spiritual affections of mankind are such
that pity will always give ere charity begins, even
for objects unworthy, and charity will keep on
giving until good sense says “You are creating
the evil you mean to cure.” It has been a view
of this consequence of public charity that, in
recent times, has led to so many efforts for
the prevention of pauperism, and so much cen-
Sure on the practice of alms-giving, even for
needful relief. Dr. Lieber, writing more than
fifty years ago, when the founders of the English
school of political economy were still living, and
more influential than they are ever likely to be
again, said: “In England, where wages are low,
compared with the expense of living, an ordinary
laborer often can not save anything against the
time of decrepitude or sickness; and the children
of suffering parents must suffer with them. By
what means shall their present distress be re-
lieved? The economists of the new school” (this
was in 1831), “namely, that of Mr. Malthus, Mr.
Ricardo, Mr. M'Culloch, and others, say that they
are to be abandoned to starvation. But, says Lie-
ber, “a doctrine so abhorrent to our nature is only
a hideous theory, which can not enter into the law
or habits of any people, until human nature shall
be sunk into brutal hardheartedness. The dictates
of religion, conscience and compassion enjoin
upon us to give relief.” Here is the whole ques-
tion stated ; and its solution must depend upon
the wisdom and the daily details of administer-
ing those measures by which relief is now given,
and in the future is anticipated or prevented. —
Among the latter measures M. Baudrillart, with
excellent sense, but perhaps in a manner too
vague and general, specifies primary and profes-
sional instruction, combined with moral educa-
tion ; a beller systeill Uſ IIUusing ille puul, LUU
often crowded into unwholesome lodgings, so
that better sanitary conditions may permit a bet-
ter moral atmosphere ; the dispersing of manu-
factories throughout rural districts; and finally,
the general progress of civilization and industry,
so that increased productive power may enlarge
production. In solving the problem of pauper-
ism, he says: “To increase production is the first
step; to assist equitable and humane distribution
of the products, is the second, which would be
useless without the first; for nothing else could
insure that, where there is but little, each person
should be above want.” Another French writer,
M. Baron, who in 1881 took the Pereira prize for
an elaborate work on French pauperism, entitled
Jºe Paupérèsme, Ses Causes et ses Remédès, par A.
Baron (Sandoz & Thuillier, Editeurs, Paris,
1882), goes into minute details concerning these
general preventives of pauperism, laying stress
particularly on the means of inducing the work
people of his country to deposit in Savings banks,
insure their lives, and by other approved econom-
ical precautions, raise themselves above the dan-
gerous level of their present poverty, from which
it is but a step, in illness, old age or vice, to the
abyss of pauperism. No recent work has treated
PAUPERISM.
147
more fully or ably of these subjects, and there is
a degree of practical wisdom (not always found
in economical writers) in almost all M. Baron’s
observations. I may except some petulant re-
marks which he makes concerning the “People's
Banks” of the late Herr Schulze-Delitzsch, a
German economist, whose services have been
perhaps overrated, but who does not deserve all
the scorn which M. Baron pours out upon him.'
— M. Baron’s book is clear in its definitions, and
recent in its statistics, and I shall make much
use of it in what follows concerning European
pauperism. His definition of pauperism in the
individual (which the French call misère—a word
carefully to be distinguished from our English
word “misery,” by which it is often translated)
is striking, and may be quoted. He says: “Pov-
erty, then, is not pauperism; the former is rela-
tive, the latter absolute. At Rome, when every-
body was poor, there were no paupers; it was the
growing luxury of some which disclosed the pov-
•erty of others. But pauperism (misère) is the mi-
nus side of material existence, the foot of the
human ladder (le fond de l'abjection humaºne);
the pauper is confronted by this dilemma, to eat
the bread of another or to die. A sad choice!
either beggary or robbery or death; the degrada-
tion of alms, the dishonor of a thief, or death
by starvation.” — This may describe pauperism
in Europe, but with us no such fatal alterna-
tive is ordinarily presented. There have been
deaths from starvation in America, but they
were generally suicides, or the result of mental
decay; there have been many thefts for which
poverty was the excuse, and there has been much
beggary in some of our great cities, but neither
starvation, mendicancy nor theft have naturally
occurred in our new country because of extreme
poverty. — The principles of prevention system-
atically developed by recent authors on the sub-
ject may be found concisely stated in Defoe,
Adam Smith, and other early writers. That
great pupil of Adam Smith, the younger Pitt, in
a speech to the house of commons in February,
1796, while discussing a new poor law, said :
“These great points of granting relief according
to the number of children, preventing removals
at the caprice of the parish officer, and making
them subscribe to friendly societies, would tend
in a very great degree to remove every ground of
complaint. * * All this, however, I will con-
fess is not enough, if we do not engraft upon the
law resolutions to discourage relief where it is not
wanted. * * The extension of schools of in-
dustry is also an object of material importance.
The suggestion of these schools was originally
drawn from Lord Hale and Mr. Locke, and upon
such authority I have no hesitation in recom-
mending the plan to the encouragement of the
legislature. * * Such a plan would convert
the relief granted to the poor into an encourage-
ment for industry, instead of being, as it is by the
present poor laws, a premium for idleness and a
school for sloth. There are also a number of
subordinate circumstances to which it is necessary
to attend. The law which prohibits giving relief
where any visible property remains, should be
abolished. That degrading condition should be
withdrawn. No temporary occasion should force
a British subject to part with the last shilling of
his little capital, and to descend to a state of
wretchedness from which he could never recover,
merely that he might be entitled to a casual sup-
ply.” These remarks are all wise, and most of
them are practical; but the new poor law proposed
by Pitt in 1796 (which may be found printed at
length in a valuable but little known work, Sir
F. M. Eden’s “State of the Poor,” London, 1797),
was burlesqued by Bentham, and did not find
acceptance with parliament. In supporting it
Pitt said he conceived, that, to promote the free
circulation of labor, and remove the obstacles by
which industry is prohibited from availing itself
of its own resources, would go far to diminish
the necessity of relief from the poor rates. He
also recommended that “an annual report should
be made to parliament, which should take on
itself the duty of tracing the effects of its own
system from year to year, till it should be fully
matured; that, in short, there should be a yearly
poor-law budget, by which the legislature would
show that they had a watchful eye upon the in-
terests of the poorest and most neglected part of
the community.” This suggestion has since been
adopted, not only in England, but in many other
countries, and in the separate states of our own
country, as I shall show presently. — Of the
English poor laws in general, Mr. Senior once said
that they had their origin, during the reigns of
Edward III. and Richard II., “in an attempt
substantially to restore the expiring system of
slavery.” This is a remark profoundly true; and
it may further be said that the subsequent legisla-
tion, even down to a very recent period, in Eng-
land, was quite as much in the line of preserving
class distinctions as of alleviating the distress of
the poor. In this respect the pauper system of
England—indeed, of all Europe—and that of the
|United States, differ radically. Certain unavoid-
able distinctions do appear in our legislation, nota-
bly those arising from immigration in the north,
and from the difference of race in the southern
states; but the general spirit of the American
poor laws has been friendly to the advancement
of the poor man. In England and France, on the
contrary, the effort for centuries was to keep the
poor man “in his place,” that is, to keep him still
poor, and use him as a prop for the comfort and
luxury of the privileged classes above him. An
Lnglish pamphleteer, of no great fame, but of
much good sense (Charles Lamport), made these
remarks in 1870 concerning the traditional treat-
ment of the English poor, under the laws of his
country : “The poor-law theory is, that all occu-
piers of houses and lands shall contribute to a
general fund, localized for better administration,
to make provision against the wants and claims
of the destitute. Its practice is, that no destitute
148
PAUPERISM.
person, however meritorious, can benefit by this
organization without having to pass under some-
thing very like the old Roman yoke. On the one
side of the Caudine forks, a man stands erect,
self-respecting and respected, and with name un-
stained; on the other side he crouches, a changed
and degraded being. He has become a social pa-
riah, hopes destroyed, spirit crushed, reputation
gone. Society, before it yields what it dare not
refuse, so embitters the morsel by contempt that
neither giver nor receiver is blessed in the act.
The terms “pauper,” “parish,’ ‘poor relief,' all savor
of social reproach. The poor are taught that it
is virtuous to shrink from everything appertaining
to the whole system. A beggar, even, will un-
blushingly ask for alms “ to keep himself off the
parish 'l On the other hand, the rich avoid the
whole system as something tainted by Social lep-
rosy, and equally shrink from all but enforced
contact. From father to son, through many a
generation, the unconscious legacy of contempt
and hard dealing has descended to us. Nothing
testifies so clearly to the prevalent feeling of the
upper classes as the persistent rigor of all legisla-
tion affecting the poor for 800 years. From
Saxon serfdom down to modern pauperism the
old key-note of contempt and isolation vibrates
unchanged.” — Of late years the larshness of the
English system has been softened considerably.
Mr. Goschen, when president of the old poor-law
board in 1870, said : “It can not be denied that
the more humane views which have prevailed
during the last few years, as to the treatment of
the sick poor, have added most materially to
poor-law expenditures. Workhouses, originally
designed mainly as a test for the able bodied, have,
especially in the large towns, been of necessity
gradually transferred into infirmaries for the sick;
and the higher standard for hospital accommo-
dations has had a material effect upon the ex-
penditures.” The process here mentioned by Mr.
Goschen has been going on rapidly in Great
Britain and Ireland, and, indeed, in almost every
European country, since 1870. In America
the same thing has happened, and even to a
greater extent. Whatever success has followed
the attempts to regulate pauperism, either in
America or Europe, has been gained by revers-
ing the English practice of suspicion, contempt
and abasement; by classifying the poor accord-
ing to their real character and needs, and treat-
ing the money for their relief as an insurance
fund, to which they or their representatives had
contributed their full share. The poor rate is,
properly, an insurance premium ; the poor-law
system of any country should be what Mr. Lam-
port desires to make that of England, a “National
Friendly Society.” That the plague of pauper-
ism has never spread widely in America is due
mainly to our institutions, and the opportunity
which is offered to the poor man; that it has been
controlled and diminished, where a dense popula-
tion and the varied competitions of industry had
given it a foothold, must be ascribed, in part at
least, to measures such as Mr. Pitt recommended,
enforced in a country where external circum-
stances have made it easier than it ever has been
in England. It was certainly one of the strangest
vagaries of the reasoning faculty which led Eng-
lishmen, in the early half of the present century,
to deny that public charity was a duty, or even
an admissible interference with individual duties
and the laws of political economy; yet so com-
mon was this view, fifty years ago, that Edward
Livingston, in the introduction to his “Penal
Code for Louisiana,” felt called upon to stop and
refute it. He pointed out, what everybody ad-
mits in practice, that every community owes a
social duty to the individuals that compose it,
and is bound to guarantee them their lives and
property; that the obligation to protect life is
greater than any other, since all the rest depends
upon it ; and that the prevention of death by
poverty is as much a public duty as the repres-
sion of murder is. From this impregnable posi-
tion he proceeded to develop his own ingenious
and mainly correct system of the administration
of public charity. — Josiah Quincy, of Massachu-
setts, a contemporary of Edward Livingston, gave
his attention even more directly to the question
of pauperism. In a report to the Massachusetts
legislature, in 1821, he recommended “placing
the whole subject of the poor in the common-
wealth under the regular and annual superintend-
ence of the legislature,” thus anticipating, by
more than forty years, the course that has since
been adopted by all the larger and more import-
ant states in the Union, and is likely to become
the universal American policy. The creation of
boards of charities in Massachusetts in 1863, in
New York and Ohio in 1868, in Pennsylvania,
Illinois and Rhode Island in 1869, and in WISCón-
sin and other states in more recent years, is the
modern interpretation of the recommendation
made by Mr. Quincy to the Massachusetts legis-
lature. The establishment of these boards has
resulted in a much fuller knowledge of pauper-
ism in America than could before be obtained.
Co-operating with thousands of local officers,
and with the general tendency of American ideas
and institutions, they have labored to reduce pau-
perism to its lowest terms, to ameliorate the con-
dition of all the dependent and defective classes,
and to prevent the formation or continuance of
that permanent caste of the poor which is the
curse of European civilizations. The experience
of Massachusetts and of other states shows that
this is possible to a great extent. In the midst of
the activities, generous or base, and the distract-
ing turmoil of American life, it is cheering to find
that we are really making progress in this direc-
tion; that we have not only abolished slavery and
the political distinctions founded thereon, but are
steadily advancing toward emancipation from the
most hideous forms and consequences of the pau-
perism that everywhere replaces slavery when first
abolished. The so-called “feudalism of capital”
—a vague phrase, which yet has a recognized
PAUPERISM.
149
shade of meaning—does something to perpetuate
pauperism, but the material advantages which
organized capital gives to the poor, are working,
On the whole, against the increase of paupers.
This is seen even in English manufacturing towns,
and still more in those of America. — Historically
speaking, there is a certain connection, though
not a very close one, between the American poor
laws and the evil with which they deal, and the
poor laws of England and pauperism there.
Mention has been made of the earliest legislation
of England, but the progressive steps of the sys-
tem now existing there may be more definitely
noted. It is less than three centuries since the
law of England distinctly made provision for the
support of the poor at the public charge. By an
act of parliament in 1572 the office of overseer of
the poor was established, and by the act of 1601
(43 Elizabeth) a general plan of relief for the poor
was adopted and cnforced throughout England.
But there were laws and customs bearing more or
less directly on the condition of the poor, and
dating back, according to Sir George Nicholls, to
the time of Athelstan, nearly a thousand years
ago. It is worth noticing that most of these an-
cient laws are penal in their character rather than
charitable, being aimed at the evils of idleness
and vagrancy, and therefore particularly numer-
Ous, when, from any great social change, like the
emancipation of the serfs in the time of Richard
II., or the breaking up of the monasteries under
Henry VIII., the tendency to vagrancy had grown
stronger. Thus, the insurrection of Wat Tyler
in 1381 (which was a servile war, and, like most
Servile wars, was occasioned by a partial emanci-
pation of the serfs), was followed in 1888 by that
oft-cited statute, 12 Richard II., which is some-
times called the origin of the poor laws of Eng-
land and America. Again, the dissolution of the
monasteries in 1536–9 was both preceded and fol-
lowed by cruel statutes against vagrancy. The
statute 22 Henry VIII., cap. 12, in 1531, punished
vagabonds with the lash, till they were “bloody
by reason of such whipping”; and the still more
cruel statute, Edward VI., cap. 3, punished
them by branding and by selling into slavery.
But these laws were found too extreme, and there-
fore ineffectual to repress beggary, and they were
followed, even during Edward's brief reign, by a
more humane law, which provided for the choice
of collectors of alms in every parish, whose busi-
ness it should be on Sundays to “gently ask and
demand of every man and woman what they of
their charity will give weekly toward the relief of
the poor,” and to “justly gather and truly distrib-
ute the same charitable alms weekly to the said
poor and impotent persons.” We should prefer
to consider this merciful statute, rather than the
barbarous enactments of an earlier day, as the
Origin of our American poor laws. It was con-
tinued by special acts in the reigns of Mary, of
Philip and Mary, and of Elizabeth. The latter,
in the fifth year of her reign (1562), decreed a
compulsory tax, “if any person of his froward
or willful mind shall obstinately refuse to give
weekly to the relief of the poor according to his
ability.” After a course of gentle exhortations by
the parson, the church-wardens, the bishop and
the trial justices of his neighborhood, the affair
ended in a commitment to jail, if “the said ob-
stinate person * should resist all these blandish-
ments. This is the first instance of a compulsory
poor rate; and it was followed, ten years later, by
an act authorizing justices, among other things, to
appoint overseers of the poor, ‘‘and if a person so
appointed shall refuse to act, he shall forfeit ten
shillings.” This stand-and-deliver kind of benev-
olence was carried out more completely toward
beggars, whose offense was made a felony, and
was visited with whippings, diversified with
branding, confiscation and hanging. Sir George
Nicholls observes, with simplicity, that “the act
is framed with great care, and comprises all the
chief points of poor-law legislation suited to the
period;” adding, that these points are set forth
with a clearness “which leaves no room for
doubt as to the intentions of the legislature ºn any
case.” Certainly; the provisions against vagrancy
were likely to carry conviction to the wayfaring
man; and a person locked up in jail till he should
show mercy to the poor would soon learn how
sacredly charity was regarded in England. — The
act of 1601, better known as 43 Elizabeth, is the
actual foundation of the English poor laws, and
of those in force in the United States. It pro-
vides for the employment, either voluntary or com-
pulsory, of poor children and able-bodied adults,
and “for the necessary relief of the lame, impo-
tent, old and blind, and such other among them
being poor and not able to work.” To support
the expense of this, a tax was laid on every
inhabitant and owner in every parish in England.
About sixty years after the death of Elizabeth,
when the public relief of the poor had been devel.
oped into a system, another important law was
passed. This was the settlement act of 1662, giving
the power of compulsory removal, from any parish,
of poor persons not legally settled therein, and in
a certain general way defining what constitutes
a pauper settlement. On these two pillars—the
43 Elizabeth and the 14 Charles II.-rests the
subsequent legislation on these subjects in Eng-
land and the United States. But so materially
has the course of legislation been modified in
America by the great difference existing between
our circumstances and those of the mother coun-
try, that it is impossible to draw a close parallel
between our poor laws and those of England,
either in their aim, their details or their results.
These laws in England were made necessary by
the presence of a great and persistent class of
poor persons, many of whom were also vicious
characters, needing all the restraints of the law,
Hence the severity of the early statutes against
vagrants, laws which were at first the germ of the
whole poor law system, and have made no incon-
siderable part of it. But in America no such pau-
per class existed at the outset, and Our arrange-
150
PAUPERISM.
ments for relieving the poor have been such as to
prevent the creation of such a class. It was, in
fact, to make room for the poor, cottagers of Eng-
land, as well as to seek freedom for their religion,
that John Winthrop and his followers colonized
New England. In a paper written before he set
sail for Boston in 1629, Winthrop said: “This
land [of England] grows weary of her inhabit-
ants, so as man, who is the most pretious of all
creatures, is here more vile and base than the
earth we tread upon, and of less price among us
than a horse or sheep. Many of our people per-
ish for want of sustenance and employment ;
many others live miserably, and not to the hon-
our of so bountiful a housekeeper as the Lord of
heaven and earth is, through the scarcity of the
fruits of the earth. All our towns complain of
the burden of poor people, and strive by all means
to rid any such as they have, and to keep off
such as would come to them. I must tell you
that our dear mother finds her family so over-
charged as she hath been forced to deny harbor
to her own children; witness the statutes against
cottages and inmates. And thus it is come to pass
that children, servants and neighbors, especially
if they be poor, are counted the greatest burthen,
which, if things were right, would be the chiefest
earthly blessings.” To make things “right” in
this respect, America was colonized, and for 150
years there was little pauperism in these colonies.
But the French war of 1754–63, the revolutionary
war, and the disturbed state of Europe from 1788
to 1820, led to a considerable development of
pauperism in the new republic of Washington,
Adams and Jefferson. Since 1820, though the
number of our poor has greatly increased, the
proportion of paupers to population has not, on
the whole, been greater than it was from 1783 to
1820, if we may trust the meagre statistics availa-
ble for the earlier period. Of late years there has
been much complaint that “the rich were grow-
ing richer, and the poor poorer,” and, relatively
speaking, this is true, as it generally is in civilized
communities. But, as compared with the stand-
ard of riches and poverty a hundred years ago, in
America, and from that time to 1825, the Ameri-
can poor man has been growing generally richer
in a remarkable degree. Before 1825, great for-
tunes were very rare among our people; while the
mass of the farmers, mechanics and laborers,
north, south, east and west, were pinched and
straitened to a degree that would now excite uni-
versal discontent, should those good old times re-
turn. Whoever has read the biography of Abra-
ham Lincoln, or has learned the habits of life
among the country people of Ohio, Pennsylvania
or New England, eighty or ninety years ago, will
understand what is meant by the common level of
poverty among them. Their firewood was cheap,
and their liquor was abundant; but their dwell-
ings, their food, their garments, their means of
education, travel and amusement, were very in-
ferior to those which the same class of persons
now enjoy; and in proportion to the population,
pauperism was as common, if not quite so ob-
vious, from 1778 to 1818, or it has ever been
since. The researches of Quincy and others.
in Massachusetts indicate this; and where there
has been of late years any relative increase of
pauperism, it has been almost wholly in the per-
sons of foreign parentage. That there has been
an absolute decrease of native pauperism may
be seen by the experience of my own town,
which is not unlike that of most country villages
in New England. In 1833 Concord, in Massa-
chusetts, had about 2,000 inhabitants, of whom
not more than fifty were foreigners. In 1883 it
has more than 3,300 free inhabitants (besides 650
prisoners), of whom not less than 900 are either
foreign-born or of foreign parentage, chiefly Irish.
The number of paupers in Concord was actually
greater in 1833 than it is now, when the population
has gained 65 per cent.; yet more than half the
present pauperism is among that class which has
come into the town in the last fifty years; so that
the 1,950 native-born inhabitants in 1833 must have
furnished twice as many paupers as do the 2,400
native-born in 1883. In fact, two-thirds of the
abundant pauperism of Massachusetts, is found
among the immigrants of the last thirty years, and
their descendants. – The census tables of 1880 do
not show this great excess of paupers of foreign
parentage in Massachusetts, nor perhaps in any
State; because these tables do not, in fact, give
even an approximation to the truth concerning
American pauperism. In Massachusetts, for ex-
ample, the census gives the inmates of alms-
houses, June 1, 1880, as 4,469, and the out-door
paupers as only 954; whereas, by authentic official
returns, July 1, 1880, there were not less than
12,000 out-door paupers receiving aid on that day.
The average number of the out-door poor in Mas-
sachusetts is never less than three times the num-
ber in poorhouses; and has sometimes, within the
past ten years, risen to be more than five times as
many. The census of 1880, therefore, in leaving
Out of view more than nine-tenths of the out-door
poor, in Massachusetts and other States, vitiates its
own value for any statistical purpose. Indeed,
Mr. Wines says in the preface to his meagre table
(Compendium of the Tenth Census, p. 1666), “It
is almost, if not quite, impossible to obtain the
statistics of pauperism. The in-door poor can be
found and counted with comparative ease; but
how are we to know when we have succeeded in
finding the out-door poor? All that has been at-
tempted in the present census, therefore, has been
to give as accurate an account as possible of the
almshouse population.” And this he states in his
table (p. 1675) as 67,067; the whole population of
the country being then 50,155,783. If we could
assume this proportion of almshouse or work-
house population to the whole people, as the true
test of comparative pauperism, then Ireland in
1880, with 5,327,100 inhabitants, and an average
of 54,946 in workhouses, would have eight times
as much pauperism as the United States; while
England, which in 1880, with a population of
PAUPERISM.
151
25,323,000, had 180,817 in-door paupers, would
have nearly sºa, times as much pauperism as the
United States. In fact, no combination of figures,
in the present state of human knowledge, can
show with much exactness what is the relative
prevalence of pauperism in countries differing
widely in accumulated wealth, in natural plenty
or want, in commercial facilities and in political
institutions; but if we are to compare the declared
paupers of one country with those of another, or
of one American state with another, the best
standard is not the relative number of either
the in-door or the out-door poor, but rather the
proportion which the aggregate of both classes
bears to the whole population. — Now, the state
of Massachusetts in 1880, with a population of
1,783,085, or about one-third that of Ireland, had
an average of about 25,000 paupers of both classes;
while Ireland had about 114,000 paupers of both
classes; so that pauperism in Ireland, thus shown,
was less than twice as common as in Massachusetts.
In England, with a population of 25,323,000 in
1880, there were 808,030 paupers of both classes;
so that pauperism in England would seem to be,
to that in Ireland, as 46% is to 31; and, to pauper-
ism in Massachusetts, as 71 is to 31, or more than
twice as common. Yet this comparison is found
to be unjust; from the fact that the pauperism of
England and Ireland is evidently more habitual
and permanent than that of Massachusetts. So
that the corrected comparison would perhaps
make English pauperism sta, times as frequent
and chronic, and Irish pauperism five times as
frequent and chronic, as pauperism in Massa-
chusetts is, although the density of population
in that New England state is now about 220
to the square mile, while in England it is 436,
and in Ireland 163 to the square mile. If a
dense population and devotion to manufactures
are, by themselves, favorable to pauperism, there-
fore, Ireland Ought to have fewer paupers than
Massachusetts, in proportion to her people. — In
truth, the political institutions of a country, the
distribution of its land and its movable property,
and the inbred spirit of the people, have more to
do with the prevalence of pauperism than the
growth of manufactures, or the method of ad-
ministering relief. French pauperism (though
by no means so much less than the English
plague of that sort, as is commonly thought) is
now less constant and pinching than it was before
the revolution; because the land of France is
more equally divided, and the political institu-
tions are less favorable to caste and privilege than
they were. For a like reason Swiss pauperism
has never been so enormous as that of France or
|Bngland; though the general atmosphere of an
old civilization, like that of all Europe, is more
likely to breed paupers than is the unbreathed air
of a new country like the United States. – If I
were to estimate the number of paupers in our
whole country, I should not set it at more than
300,000 persons at any one time, and perhaps
1,000,000 different persons during the year, who, in
our population of some 55,000,000, are forced to
eat the bread of others, as M. Baron says. This
would be less than a fiftieth part of our people;
while in Ireland the corresponding proportion
would be at least a tenth, and in England not much
less than a tenth. In France the proportion of the
population of 36,000,000 who at some time in the
year have received public aid, is perhaps between
one-fifteenth and one-twentieth. The mere count
of numbers and ratios, however, as I have observed,
does not show the true relation, in this respect,
between one country and another. A land of
high civilization will generally appear to have
more paupers than a country like Russia or the
states of South America, where the general lack
of civilization among the multitude obliterates to
a great extent the line between paupers and the
respectable poor. It is strictly true that the
American pauper who retains his mental faculties,
and many of those who do not, are better situated,
in almost every respect, than the peasants of
Russia, or the semi-barbarous freemen of Mexico,
Peru and Brazil. The population of the Tewks-
bury almshouse, which has of late been indus-
triously held up to public pity as unfortunate be-
yond any community in the civilized world, is, in
truth, so far as wasting disease, decaying age and
mental disease will permit, more comfortable than
two-thirds of the self-supporting inhabitants of
Ireland, and in a better material condition than a
large part of the colored, or even the white, people
of our southern states. And it must not be for-
gotten that for a great proportion of our Ameri-
can paupers—who are, more than in most
countries, the persons wholly incapacitated, from
age and bodily or mental infirmity—the same
causes that have made them dependent have
deadened their susceptibility to the degradation
which pauperism imposes on its victims. “To
eat the bread of another or to die,” is not a
sentence deeply felt by the congenital idiot, the
demented lunatic, or the incurable invalid, who
compose so large a quota of the inmates of
American poorhouses. This is a fact often lost
sight of by writers on the subject, who have not
much practical acquaintance with the poor. —
The real stress of pauperism is in the burdens and
penalties it lays on whole classes of industrious
people, not so much by the tax which public
relief imposes, as by the disqualification and
moral discouragement it makes inevitable. . “The
destruction of the poor is their poverty.” M.
Baron shows in a striking manner, by an in-
genious calculation, how unavoidably myriads of
the French artisans and laborers must leave their
families, or see themselves each year in the slough
of pauperism. He says, with an eloquence that
rises less from the language than from the pathetic
fact signalized, “Sickness, casualty, old age and
death are to us but phrases; but the proletary is
stung to the heart by fear of them; if he escapes
some, he can not avoid the others; and each one
of them strikes for him incessantly the fatal hour
of pauperism. Death, in particular, leaves behind
152
PAUPERISMI.
it numberless deprivations, of which a simple
computation will give us a glimpse. France had
in 1876, 36,905,788 people; the number of the
married of both sexes being 15,156, iſ 0. It is be-
low the truth to estimate half this number as own-
ers, occupants, employers of labor, or persons
engaged in trade or the liberal professions; leav-
ing in the second half, operatives, day laborers,
artisans, small employers, and domestics, Who
certainly in the aggregate number more than the
first half. This last enumeration, then, contains
at least 7,500,000 married people. The general
mortality of France ranges from 23.40 in a
thousand to 23.16 ; but for married people it is
fair to take the lower average mortality computed
by the friendly societies, 15.20. Consequently,
each year removes from this aggregate of 7,500,000
not less than 114,000 fathers or mothers. Let us
reckon up, then, all the miseries that in a single
year accumulate in these poor households, and
see whether it is not strictly true to say, with the
English economists, ‘Death is the mother of pau-
perism' (mors miseria, mater).” — Nevertheless, as
M. Baron points out, these inevitable causes of
pauperism, sickness, accidents, old age and death,
may be alleviated in some measure by life insur-
ance, by deposits in savings banks, by member-
ship in friendly societies, and by other methods
of providing for the future, which are so common
in America, and as yet so rare among the work-
ingmen of Europe. He devotes half his book
to a consideration of these economic Safeguards
against pauperism; and it is in this direction, also,
that the governments of Europe, as well as phil-
anthropic individuals, are moving at present.
The renowned statesman of Prussia, Prince Bis-
marck, having raised his country into an empire,
and secured the military preponderance of Ger-
many in Europe by his favorite prescription of
“blood and iron,” long continued, is now seek-
ing to guard the poor subjects of the German
empire from pauperism, by a series of compul-
sory and co-operative economies, for which his
his administrative subordinates are framing laws.
These governmental measures for making the
German workingman frugal and Sober under le-
gal penalty, and for compelling capital to take its
share in accumulating insurance funds against
pauperism, are not, as I write, fully matured; but
we shall soon see what shape they will take, and
how effective they are likely to be. The English,
who do nothing of this sort by legal compulsion,
except the exaction and administration of the
poor rates, but whose aim is to encourage Saving
among the poor, are doing much in that direction,
by their postoffice Savings banks, and by the stim-
ulation of all sorts of mutual aid societies and
otherforms of co-operation. A Hampshire clergy-
man, Rev. W. L. Blackley, has recently published
a paper in the “Nineteenth Century,” wherein
he proposes that a large proportion of the poor
rates and of pauperism be avoided by a legal ob-
ligation that every youth shall, from eighteen to
twenty-one, or thereabouts, pay to the govern-
ment (say through the postoffice savings bank de-
partment) the sum of £15 once for all, or 2s. per
week for three years, and then be poor rate free
for life. This would, on the average, fully suffice
to allow a repayment, in the form of 8s. per week
during sickness, at any period, and a pension of
4s. per week during the remainder of life after at-
taining the age of Seventy, according to the cal-
culations of Mr. Blackley; who shows that, under
the present system of poor rates, the law actually
compels the provident and industrious to pay a
great deal more than £15 each, in a lifetime, for
the lazy and the vicious. In order to prevent
imposture and false claims of sickness, he would
have applications for repayment, under his plan,
left in each case to a local jury of persons interest-
ed ºn preventing &mposture ; as, for instance, either
to a specially appointed committee of rate payers,
or to the existing boards of guardians, with the
aid of local medical men, who now administer the
legal relief under the poor laws. There is practi-
cal good sense in these suggestions. – Of the two
modes of public aid which the English designate
as ºn-door and out-door relief, the latter is every-
where and always the more common; for there
never can be almshouses, workhouses, hospitals,
etc., enough to receive all the poor at any season,
or half of them in seasons of special destitution.
M. Baron, contrary to most English and some
American authorities, favors out-door relief, or
what the French more properly call “aid to the
family,” secours & domicile, rather than the strict
application of the “workhouse test,” or the mul-
tiplication of hospitals and infirmaries. I have
long held the same opinion, and for the same
reasons, mainly, which this French writer now
advances. Out-door relief is often abused, and
these abuses are most to be guarded against in
democratic countries; but it, is when well admin-
istered, as it easily may be, not only more humane
and effective, but less costly, than in-door relief,
which involves the building and keeping up of
great establishments. Both methods are indispen-
sable, and each serves to correct the abuses of
the other. — The cost of pauperism to the public
treasury varies greatly in different countries. In
Great Britain and Ireland the annual cost of the
public poor is nearly $50,000,000 for 35,000,000
of people—say $1.50 per capita for the whole pop-
ulation. In France the cost does not exceed $1
per capita, and in Germany is even less. In New
England and New York the annual cost is nearly
$1 per capita; in the more southern and western
states it ranges from seventy-five cents down to
twenty-five cents, or even less, per capita. I
should estimate the average per capita cost for the
United States at fifty cents or less, that is, from
$20,000,000 to $25,000,000 in a year for the whole
country. Even in European nations this cost is
not a great burden when compared with the yearly
army and navy estimates; and it can hardly be
said that, in America, the pecuniary burden of
pauperism is seriously felt. Its social and moral
evils are grievous, however; and richly will he
PEACE.
153
deserve of mankind who shall show us how to
Check them. F. B. SANBORN.
PEACE. Says de Maistre: “History unfortu.
nátely proves that war is, in a certain sense, the
habitual state of mankind ; that is, that human
blood must be shed, here or there, without inter-
ruption on the earth; and that a state of peace
is, for each nation, but a respite.” Is this true?
When God created the world, did he hand it
over, forever, to the destroying angel? Is there
no means to preserve peace among the nations?
A means to prevent war, generally, would be to
sanction, as an inviolable principle of public law,
that each state is independent and free, and that
no state has a right forcibly to meddle with the
constitution or government of another state. A
state is a society of men which alone can rule and
dispose of itself; to meddle with its affairs, what-
ever they bo, is to render uncertain the autonomy
of all states; it means to scatter the seeds of war,
which sooner or later will germinate and bear the
most bitter fruit. It will be remembered, that on
Aug. 10, 1791, Mirabeau being then president of
the constitutional assembly, Some Quakers ap-
peared before the bar of that body and asked
to be permitted to live under the protection of
the laws of France, but reserving in their own
favor the condition, that they should never be
compelled to go to war. With admirable good
sense, Mirabeau answered them, amid applause:
“* * If I ever meet a Quaker I shall say to
him: ‘My brother, if thou hast the right to be
free, thou hast the right to prevent thy being
made a slave. Thou wantest peace? Well, it is
weakness which invites war: a general resistance
would be universal peace.’ ” A general resist-
ance of all states against any intermeddling in
the affairs of others would be one of the greatest
guarantees of peace in the world. Thus, in some
way a federation of free states would be formed,
of states which desired to remain free, and which
proclaimed as an unalterable rule of international
law the principle of non-intervention. — The re-
ciprocal independence of the nations thus pro-
claimed and assured, we would see the burden
of standing armies, which lead to that terrible,
inexorable tax, the tax of blood, but nevertheless
the most indispensable of all taxes, disappear.
This tax does not take from the contributor sim.
ply part of his income, or his entire income, a
part of his capital, or even his whole capital, but it
takes liberty and life from him; it has become the
indispensable condition of political societies. The
liberties of nations could not but gain by the
abolition of standing armies; for history teaches
us, that standing armies are an eternal danger to
the liberties of nations. “Regular troops (miles
perpetuºus),” says Kant, “being always ready to
act, incessantly menace other states, and incite
them to increase their number of armed men ad
ºnfinitum. Such rivalry, an inexhaustible source
of expense, which makes peace more onerous
than a short war, sometimes even leads a state
into open hostilities with the sole view of getting
rid of so painful a burden.” The suppression of
Standing armies would, therefore, be one of the
most powerful means to preserve peace. — One of
the greatest obstacles to the maintenance of peace
among nations has been the facilities to feed war
which credit procures. It is war that invents
those loans by means of which a warlike people
finds at a given hour an immense lever, great sums
of money, to transform the spades which render
the soil of the country fruitful, into instruments
which devastate the fields, destroy the cities, and
decimate the population. It would be well to
admit, as a principle of international law, that the
loans effected in a state or abroad, and not destined
for the economical wants of the state, should be
considered as a menace to the other states, and
that it would authorize the latter to form a league
against the state which should allow itself to take
measures involving an attempt on their security
and their independence. — Without pretending to
contradict the principles which Mirabeau caused
to triumph in his celebrated discussion on the
right to declare war, might we not introduce
a guarantee into political constitutions, by mak-
ing, at least to some extent, the consent of the
subjects of a state a condition to a declaration
of war? Shall the sovereign have a right to
dispose, at his will, of the lives and the savings
of several generations, for the sake of quar-
rels which the people frequently do not under-
stand? The answer is well known which a
prince of Bulgaria gave to an emperor of the
orient, when the latter proposed to him to settle
their differences in single combat: “Would a
farrier who had a pair of pincers take the red-hot
iron from the furnace with his hands?” We wish
means might be found to lay the following ques-
tions before the people of a country before a war
is undertaken: ‘‘Who wants the war? Is it the
nation? Is it the government? Does the nation
want to see its ports and its workshops closed, its
commerce diminished, perhaps even annihilated,
its industry ruined, and its wealth pass into the
hands of others? Does the nation want that now
and forever new taxes and duties be added to the
duties and taxes with which the nation is already
Overburdened? Does the nation want its children
taken away, to make them live a life of fatigue
and danger, of Sacrifices and resignation, to make
them shed their blood in battle? Does the nation
want that even those of its other children, who
had paid already their tribute to the fatherland,
should be taken away once more, on the day
after they had again crossed the paternal thresh-
old?” — May a system of international arbitra.
* The preceding only applies to wars of aggression, and in
such cases most constitutions require the consent of the
national representatives. Even when the constitution attrib-
utes to the king the right to declare war, this does not mean
that the war is the result of the royal will, but only that it is
one of the king’s functions (and not, for instance, one of the
functions of a minister or prefect) to sign the act. The right
of defense, in case of an attack, is too evident, and is there-
fore not mentioned. 4.
154 PENDLETON.
BENNSYLVANIA.
tion be relied on as a means to preserve peace
among nations? We can not consider that means
as effective. With the small nation of the Greeks
the amphictyonic council was unable to preserve
a state of peace ; no modern confederation has
escaped civil war; and can we hope that the
confederation of the nations of Europe would be
more fortunate? We forget that passion is the
principal cause of war; and can we think that
passion would submit to arbitration? Moreover,
if arbitration has no sanction, it does not mean
anything; if it have a sanction, that sanction is
war.” — Whatever may be thought of the means
to preserve peace which we have just indicated,
the fact remains that war exists. We need not
examine whether it is just, useful or necessary, as
an illustrious philosopher (Cousin) declared it to
be. All are agreed that war should be terminated
as quickly as possible, and the instrument of peace
be signed. That instrument is called a treaty by the
law of nations, and from the moment of its con-
clusion all hostilities should cease. Generally it
is the victor who dictates the conditions of the
peace; it is also a principle, that in case of diffi-
culties all obscure and ambiguous clauses must
be construed against him. — The power to make
peace, which is generally accorded to the heads
of states by the constitutions of the latter, does
not necessarily carry with it the right to make
concessions of territory. Thus, the assembly of
Cognac declared that Francis I., although he had
the absolute control over peace and war, could
not, by the treaty of Madrid, alienate any part of
his kingdom. — The violation of the treaty of
peace by one of the parties, is not necessarily
accompanied by a resumption of hostilities. AC-
cording to international usage, Official cognizance
is taken of the rupture, and all rights are reserved
for the future. — The most celebrated treaties of
peace in modern times are the treaty of Westpha-
lia (1648), which put an end to the thirty years
war; the treaty of Utrecht (1713), which closed
the war of succession in Spain; the treaty of
Vienna (1815), which concluded the wars of the
empire; the treaty of Paris (1856), which ended
the oriental war; and the treaty of Frankfort
(1871), which put an end to the Franco-German
war. All these treaties were closed only after
terrible wars, which had cost streams of blood
and the wealth of the people.
EUGENE PAIGNON.
PEACE CONGRESS.
PEACE.)
(See CONFERENCE,
PENDLETON, George H., was born at Cin-
cinnati, O., July 25, 1825, was admitted to the
bar, was a member of the state Senate in 1854–5,
* Arbitration can be employed only in cases involving ma-
terial interests, and in that case all European nations will sub-
mit to it in the future. Is there any material interest which
is worth the milliards which war actually costs? Thus,
there will be no more fighting but for honor or for a Senti-
ment, a passion; but what can arbitrators do in such a case?
radius drawn around New Castle.
city, Philadelphia.
and a democratic congressman 1857–65. In 1864
he was the democratic candidate for vice-president,
and was defeated. (See DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN
PARTY, WI.; ELECTORAL WOTEs, XX.) In 1868
he was strongly, but unsuccessfully, supported in
the democratic national convention as a candidate
for the presidency. He then became interested
in railroads, and abandoned politics for the time.
In 1879 he became United States senator from
Ohio for six years. (See CIVIL SERVICE REFORM.)
- A. J.
PENITENTIARY SYSTEMS. (See PRISONs.
AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.)
PENNSYLVANIA, one of the original states.
of the American Union. The English claim to
the territory of which it is composed rested on
the same grounds as in the case of New York
and New Jersey, discovery by the Cabots and
conquest from the Dutch. (See those states,
and UNITED STATEs, I.) The capture of New
Amsterdam was held to carry with it the right to
Pennsylvania and Delaware, the latter of which
had been originally colonized by Swedes and
conquered by the Dutch. (See DELAWARE.)—
William Penn, an English Quaker, possessed a
very considerable influence with Charles I., partly
because of the services of his father, Admiral Sir
William Penn, and still more because of the favor
in which he was held by Charles' brother, the
Duke of York, afterward James I. This alliance
of the Quaker and the Roman Catholic, both dis-
senters from the church of England, non-jurors,
and harassed by penal laws, was not at all uncom-
mon at the time. Penn had been trustee for One
of the Quaker proprietors of New Jersey, and
thus seems to have conceived the idea of a dis-
tinct Quaker colony in North America. March
4, 1681, he obtained from the king a patent for “all
that tract or parte of land in America,” bounded
on the east by the Delaware river, from “twelve
miles distance northwards of New Castle towne,”
and, if the Delaware river should not reach latitude
43° north, then by a due north line from the head of
the river to the northern boundary; on the north
by latitude 43° north; on the west by a north and
south line five degrees west of “the said eastern
bounde”; and on the south by latitude 40° north,
to its intersection with a circle of twelve miles.
The province
was to be called Pennsylvania; and the payment.
therefor was to be two beaver skins annually. —
As laid down in the charter, the northern bound-
ary would have run across the middle of the
present state of New York, and the southern
boundary would have lain north of the capital
Necessity produced the in-
genious idea that “to the beginning ” of any de-
gree of latitude was only to the end of the next
preceding degree; and Penn and his descendants,
accepting latitude 42° as the northern boundary,
claimed latitude 39° as the southern boundary, thus
taking in the two noble bays of Chesapeake and
PENNSYLVANIA.
155.
Delaware. Lord Baltimore struggled to restrict
Penn to latitude 40°, and the dispute was not
finally compromised until 1762, when the Penns,
by giving up part of their Southern claims, suc.
ceeded in securing their capital and a free access
to Delaware bay. In 1780 the western boundary,
five degrees west of the eastern, was run by com-
missioners from Pennsylvania and Virginia. By
resolution of Sept. 4, 1788, the congress of the
confederation relinquished to Pennsylvania the
jurisdiction over the triangular strip of land in
the northwest, north of latitude 42°, and west of
New York, which gives the state access to Lake
Erie; and Jan. 3, 1792, the new congress author-
ized the president to issue letters patent, conveying
the territory named, to Pennsylvania. (See also
WYOMING). — Penn having acquired the three
counties on the Delaware from the duke of York
(see DELAWARE), these were kept in close relation
to Pennsylvania until the outbreak of the rev-
olution, when Delaware became a distinct state.
Penn gave his new province four various schemes
of government, in 1681, 1682, 1683, and 1696;
and Oct. 28, 1701, he gave it the final charter
of privileges, under which it lived until 1776.
Under this the governor was appointed by the
proprietor; the assembly, of one house, was to be
chosen annually by the people; and sheriffs and
coroners were to be appointed by the governor
out of a double number of candidates selected by
popular vote. In spite of many conflicts between
governor and assembly, the charter, on the whole,
worked well during its existence. One of its evil
features was the reservation of quit-rents to the
proprietors on land sold; and these were abolished
in 1779, the assembly voting £130,000 to the pro-
prietors in compensation for them. — CONSTITU-
TIONs. June 14, 1776, the last charter assembly
adjourned until Aug. 26. In the meantime a
state convention at Philadelphia, July 15–Sept.
28, called by the revolutionary committees, framed
a state constitution, which went into force without
a popular vote. It provided for an assembly of
one house, chosen annually by the freemen over
twenty-one who were tax payers; for a council of
twelve persons; for a president [governor] chosen
annually by joint ballot of the council and as
sembly; and for a “council of censors,” of two
from each city and county, to be chosen by pop-
ular vote every seventh year, and to inquire
into the conduct of state officers and into viola-
tions of the constitution. — A new constitution
was framed by a convention at Philadelphia,
Nov. 24, 1789–Reb. 26, 1790, Aug. 9-Sept. 2,
1790, and approved by popular vote. It divided
the assembly into a senate chosen for four years
by counties, according to tax-paying inhabitants,
not less than fifteen nor more than thirty-four in
number, and a house of representatives chosen
annually in the same manner as the Senate,
not less than sixty nor more than 100 in number;
it provided for a governor, to be chosen by popu-
lar vote and to serve three years; it made judges
removable by the governor on the address of two-
thirds of each house; and it abolished the council
of Censors. — A third constitution was framed by
a convention at Harrisburgh and Philadelphia,
May 2, 1837–Teb. 22, 1838, and was ratified by
a close vote, 113,971 to 112,759. It changed the
term of Senators to three years, and that of the
judiciary from good behavior to fifteen years for
the Supreme court, ten years for presiding judges
of lower courts, and five years for their associates;
it greatly diminished the governor's patronage;
and it provided for amendments by their passage
in two successive legislatures and their ratification
by popular vote. In 1850 the judiciary was thus
made elective. In 1857 the number of the house
of representatives was fixed at 100, the senate was
to be chosen by districts, and the legislature was for-
bidden to loan the credit of the state. In 1864 the
right of Suffrage was secured to qualified electors.
in the volunteer service. — The present constitu-
tion was framed by a convention at Harrisburgh
and Philadelphia, Nov. 13, 1872–Nov. 3, 1873,
and was ratified Dec. 16, 1873, by a popular vote
, of 293,564 to 109,198. It fixes the number of
the Senate at fifty, to serve four years, and of the
house at 200, to serve two years, both to be
elected by districts; forbids the legislature to pass.
Special laws on a number of subjects, nor in any
case without thirty days’ publication; and makes.
the governor's term of office four years, and that
of the Supreme court twenty-one years. It is
notable that it provides for the trial of contested
elections of electors of president and vice-president
by the state; in this point Pennsylvania was
probably the only state in the Union in 1874
which enforced exactly the simple idea of the
electoral system. (See ELECTORs.)—GOVERNORS.
Thomas Wharton, 1777–9; Joseph Reed, 1778–81;
Wm. Moore, 1781–2; John Dickinson, 1782–5;
Benjamin Franklin, 1785–8; Thos. Mifflin, 1788–
99; Thos. McKean, 1799–1808; Simon Snyder,
1808–17; William Findlay, 1817–20; Joseph Heis-
ter, 1820–23; John A. Schulze, 1823–9; George
Wolf, 1829–35; Joseph Ritner, 1835–8; David R.
Porter, 1838–44; Francis R. Shunk, 1844–8; Wm.
F. Johnston, 1848–51; Wm. Bigler, 1851–4;
James Pollock, 1854–7; Wm. F. Packer, 1857–61;
Andrew J. Curtin, 1861–7; John W. Geary,
1867–73; John F. Hartranft, 1873–9; Henry M.
Hoyt, 1879–83; Robert E. Pattison, 1883–7;
— PoirTICAL HISTORY. The citizens of Pennsyl-
vania have, from the beginning of her existence
as a state, claimed for her the appellation of the
“key-stone state.” This significant name is suf-
ficient alone to show that the sections north and
south are no recent development, but original po-
litical factors, for it was the two sections which
Pennsylvania was to clamp together like a key-
stone. Popular doggerel of 1790, after specify-
ing the alternate admissions of the new states,
Kentucky and Vermont, thus concludes:
“Still Pennsylvania holds the scales,
And neither south nor north prevails.”
In time the appellation was sometimes used in a
156
PENNSYLVANIA.
little different sense: since the reorganization of
parties in 1825, Pennsylvania's electoral votes have
never been cast for the unsuccessful presidential
candidate; and a vague idea has grown up that
Pennsylvania's support or opposition is deci-
sive upon parties as well as sections. – At first
the state was internally divided.
was variously Quaker, Episcopalian, Presbyterian
(Scotch-Irish), and Lutheran (German); and as the
first two classes generally sympathized with Great
Britain during the revolution, political and relig-
ious feeling were both active. Furthermore, the
state was divided by the Alleghanies into a west-
ern and an eastern section, whose people had op-
posite interests and politics, the former being
naturally democrats, while the latter were federal-
ists. (See ANTI-FEDERAL PARTY.) At first the
eastern Section was strong enough to retain the state
in the federal party, but the strength of their oppo-,
ments was gradually increased by the flow of immi-
gration, mostly Irish and anti-British, to the west-
ern section, by the united and even forcible oppo-
sition of that section to the excise (see WHISKY IN-
SURRECTION), and by the claims of New England
federalists to a large tract of land in the eastern sec-
tion. (See WYOMING...) All these influences were
potent enough to give fourteen of the state's fifteen
electoral votes to Jefferson in 1796, and thirteen to
Burr, and to make the state very doubtful for the
future. In 1799 the eastern section was alarmed
and reunited by the so-called “Fries insurrection,”
an armed resistance to a federal law imposing a
direct tax on houses. Nevertheless, the democrats,
in December, 1799, were for the first time able to
elect their candidate for governor, McKean; and
he at once removed all Mifflin's federalist ap-
pointees to office. In the legislature the house
was democratic ; and the senate federalist. As
the state's electors were to be chosen by the legis-
lature, it was with great difficulty, and only just
before the time fixed for the electors to vote, that
the senate forced the house to be content with
eight democratic electors, leaving the remaining
seven to the opposition. The democratic con-
trol of the state grew rapidly stronger, and in
1803–4 there were but five federalists in the house,
and one in the Senate. Indeed, the dominant
party almost immediately split into two factions,
the moderate democrats, or “constitutionalists,”
headed by Gov. McKean, and the radicals, or
“friends of the people,” headed by William Du-
ane and Michael Leib. The latter were princi-
pally bent on obtaining a new state constitution,
On impeaching and removing the then state judges,
and on limiting the tenure of office of the judi-
ciary for the future. In 1805 both factions nom-
inated candidates for governor, McKean and
Simon Snyder, and the former was elected by
the aid of federalist votes. In 1808, however, the
“conventionalists,” as the “friends of the people”
now called themselves, elected Snyder governor,
and secured a long control of the state; but they
made no further effort to obtain a new state consti-
tution. — Immediately after Snyder's accession to
Its population.
Office a collision between the state and the United
States was threatened in the once celebrated “Olm-
stead case.” This was a prize case, dating from the
revolutionary war. The state cºurts had decided
it one way, and the continental congress, and
afterward the federal courts, to the contrary. In
1809 the matter was brought to a head by a man-
damus from the federal supreme court to the dis-
trict marshal to execute a writ, and an order from
the governor to the state militia to resist it by
force. In the end the legislature appropriated a
Sum of money to pay the claim; the state chief
justice decided for the federal court’s view; and
the militia were sentenced to a trivial punishment,
which was remitted by the president. — Pennsyl-
vania remained overwhelmingly democratic during
and after the war of 1812, and her legislature sus-
tained the war vigorously throughout. In 1817
Heister was nominated as an independent demo-
Cratic candidate for governor against the regular
Candidate, Findlay, by the Duane party, and was
defeated; but in 1820 he was successful. It was
not until 1824 that any danger was developed to
the democratic control of the state; and that was
indirect, the appointment of a board of commis-
Sioners for internal improvements, excited by New
York’s success in the Erie canal. In 1827 annual
appropriations for that object began, and contin-
ued until 1836. Still more important, in its pro-
Spective antagonism to the cardinal principles of
the original democratic party, was the vast wealth
of the state in anthracite coal and iron. Both
had been known before the beginning of the cen-
tury; but it was not until June, 1839, that the
anthracite was successfully applied in Pennsyl-
vania to the manufacture of iron. From that
time protection for iron by means of the tariff has
been a governing object of all parties in the state.
— At first the revolt against the dominant party
showed itself, as in New York, under the name of
the anti-masonic party, but with more success than
in New York. (See ANTI-MASONRY, I.; NEw
York.) In 1835 the anti-masons elected Ritner
governor, and thus the state, which had been one
of the first to pronounce for Jackson, had given
him over three-fourths of her popular vote in
1824, and had been steadily democratic ever since,
became exceedingly doubtful. The anti-masonic
movement came to nothing further than a few
attempts at repressive legislation against the free-
masons; and the party very soon fell into the whig.
organization. In 1836 Van Buren electors were
chosen by the close vote of 91,475 to 87,111, and
the democrats were able to elect Porter governor
in 1838 and 1841. In 1840 the electoral votes of the
state were for the first time cast for the whig can-
didates, the election being the closest in its history,
as follows: Harrison,144,021; Van Buren, 143,676;
Birney, 343; Harrison's majority, 2 votes out of
288,040. (See also BUCKSHOT WAR.) — In 1844
the political struggle was still more animated, for
the election of the governor fell in the same year
with the presidential election. The democratic
managers adopted the plan of claiming the Semi-
PENNSYLVANIA.
157
protective tariff of 1842 as their own. Polk
wrote, June 19, 1844, a letter to John K. Kane,
of Philadelphia, in which he diplomatically de-
clared that he was not in favor of “atariff for pro-
tection merely”; but that he was in favor of a rev.
enue tariff which should incidentally afford judi-
cious protection; and that he had voted for several
specified tariff acts of this nature. Under the ral-
lying cry of “Polk, Dallas, Shunk, and the tariff
of 1842,” the democrats succeeded in October in
electing Shunk by a majority of 4,397 in a total
vote of 317,321, and in November they secured
the state's electoral vote by a majority of 6,332,
and twelve of the twenty-four congressmen. The
democratic congress in 1846 changed the tariff of
1842 into a revenue tariff ; nevertheless, Shunk's
popularity obtained for him a re-election in 1847
by a majority of 17,933. He resigned the next
year, and in October, 1848, the whigs elected his
successor, Johnston, by the close vote of 168,523
to 168,221. This, again, was a premonition of
the result in November, when Taylor electors
were chosen by a majority of 3,074 over both
Cass and Van Buren. — As the slavery question
rose to national importance after 1848, Pennsyl-
vania was governed at first by the ancient feeling
that her function was that of a balance wheel
between the two sections. As democratic success
seemed most likely to maintain national harmony,
Pennsylvania was democratic until 1860 in her
elections for governor, presidential electors and
legislatures, with the exceptions of 1854, when
the anti-Nebraska excitement carried into office
Gov. Pollock and a majority of the lower house
of the legislature, and 1858, when the republicans
obtained a majority in the lower house. In 1860
a governor was to be elected, and the success of
the republicans in electing Curtin by the unusual
majority, for Pennsylvania, of 32,164 over Henry
D. Foster, who was heartily supported by a fusion
of all the other three parties, seemed almost de-
cisive of the presidential election in November.
The majority of the Lincoln electors over the
fusion electors was increased to 59,618 in a total
vote of 476,442. Both houses of the legislature
were republican, and twenty-one of the twenty-
five congressmen. — Since the accession of the
republican party to power, Pennsylvania has re-
mained a steadily republican state. In congres-
sional elections the democrats have usually ob-
tained a fair share, and occasionally a majority,
of the representatives; but in elections for gov-
ernor or presidential electors, the republicans have
invariably been successful. In 1878, for gov-
ernor, Hoyt could only claim a plurality (22,353)
over the democratic candidate, owing to 81,758
“greenback” votes for Mason ; in other years
the majority has been complete. In presidential
elections the republican majority, though steady,
has not been over 30,000, except in 1872, when
Grant’s majority over Greeley was, 135,918 in
563,260 votes. In 1880 the vote for electors stood
as follows: Garfield, 444,704; Hancock, 407,428;
Weaver, 20,668; scattering, 1,983. In 1882 the
legislature stands as follows: Senate, thirty-two
republicans, sixteen democrats, three national ;
house, one hundred and twenty-one republic-
ans, Seventy-eight democrats, one national. — No
single man has ever undisputedly controlled a
party in the state, with the exception of Simon
Cameron. At first a democrat, he was an influ-
ential leader in the state, and United States sen-
ator 1845–9. With the formation of the repub.
lican party in 1855–6 he almost immediately
obtained complete control of its machinery. In
1857 he again became United States senator; in
1861 he became secretary of war under Lincoln,
but resigned in 1862; and in 1867 he was returned
to the senate. In March, 1877, being then sev-
enty-eight years old, and having control of the
legislature which was to elect his successor, he
resigned, and his son, James Donald Cameron, was
elected in his place. The son, however, had lit-
tle of the suppleness which had often enahled the
father to manage even hostile majorities. The
party machinery, which in every state is very
frequently used to evade the will of the party,
was now recklessly or ostentatiously exposed to
public view. In 1880 (see NoMINATING CONVEN-
TIONS) the state vote in the republican national
convention was thus instructed for Grant, though
the majority of the republicans of the state, and
almost a majority of the state convention, were
against him. In 1881, though defeated finally in
the national convention, he still held undisputed
control of the state convention which nominated
the candidate for state treasurer. Thereupon
Charles G. Wolfe took the first step in the road
which may possibly prove a release from the all-
controlling convention system, by nominating
himself for treasurer, and stumping the state in
his own behalf. In the end the vote stood for
Bailey, republican, 265,295; for Noble, democrat,
258,471; and for Wolfe, 49,984. In the follow-
ing year, 1882, Wolfe's movement developed into
an organized revolt against the Cameron leader-
ship. The dissentients rejected the idea of “re-
form within the party,’” for the very plausible
reason that “you can not get within the organi-
zation to reform it”; were unmoved by the possi-
bility of the success of the democrats in the state;
and at a separate state convention, May 24, nom-
inated a state ticket of their own, headed by the
name of John Stewart for governor. Cameron's
political existence depended on the election, at
which was to be chosen not only the governor,
the state officers and the congressmen-at-large,
but the legislature which was to pass upon his
own return to the senate in 1885. Nevertheless,
his state convention, May 10, attempted no ac-
commodation with the “independents,” but nom-
inated a full state ticket, headed by Jas. A.
Beaver for governor. Meanwhile, the tide was
all running with the revolt. It was recruited by
John I. Mitchell, Cameron's associate in the sen-
ate, and by a great number of other influential
republicans; the Cameron nominee for congress-
man-at-large, Marshall, refused to run; and when
158
PENNSYLVANIA.
the state convention was resuscitated to nominate
another candidate, many of the delegates denied
the validity of the call and refused to attend.
The result was a chaotic election, in which the
following vote was cast for governor : Pattison
(dem.), 355,791; Beaver (rep.), 315,589; Stewart
(ind. rep.), 43,743; Armstrong (greenb.), 23,996;
Pettit (prohib.), 5,196. Of the twenty-eight rep-
resentatives in congress, fifteen were republic-
ans, twelve democrats, and one greenbacker. The
legislature of 1883–4 stands as follows: senate,
twenty democrats, thirty republicans; house, one
hundred and thirteen democrats, eighty-eight re-
publicans; democratic majority on joint ballot,
fifteen. — Since the election the regular and inde-
pendent republicans have quietly reunited, with-
out formally abolishing the Cameron leadership.
The most important action of the republican con-
vention of 1883 was the revival of the old whig.
plan of distributing surplus revenue among the
states. Its previous history is elsewhere given.
(See DISTRIBUTION, under INTERNAL IMPROVE-
MENTs, II.) It has not yet been adopted by the
party in other states, and must as yet be consid-
ered only a Pennsylvania policy.— Besides the
Camerons, and James Buchanan, George M. Dal-
las, Benjamin Franklin, Albert Gallatin, W. S.
Hancock, Jared Ingersoll, John Sergeant, E. M.
Stanton, and Thaddeus Stevens (see their names),
the following have been prominent in the state's
political history: Henry Baldwin, federalist con-
gressman 1817–22, and justice of the Supreme
court 1830–44; Nicholas Biddle, president of the
United States bank, 1823–41; Horace Binney, whig.
congressman 1833–5; Jeremiah S. Black, secretary
of state under Buchanan; Benj. H. Brewster, attor-
ney general under Arthur; Charles R. Buckalew,
democratic United States senator 1863–9; Hiester
Clymer, democratic candidate for governor in 1866,
United States senator in 1879, and congressman
1873–81; John Covode, republican congressman
1855–63; Andrew G. Curtin, governor 1861–7, and
democratic congressman 1881–5; William Findlay,
democratic congressman 1791–9 and 1803–17 (see
WHISKY INSURRECTION); Thomas Fitzsimons,
member of the convention of 1787, federalist
congressman 1789–95; John W. Forney, clerk of
the house of representatives 1851–6 and 1860–61;
Walter Forward, congressman 1822–5, and secre-
tary of the treasury under Tyler; Joseph Heister,
democratic congressman 1797–1805 and 1815–20,
and governor 1820–23; Chas. J. Ingersoll, demo-
cratic congressman, 1813–15 and 1841–9; Joseph
R. Ingersoll (brother of the preceding, and son of
Jared Ingersoll), whig congressman 1835–7 and
1841–9, and minister to Great Britain 1852–3;
Samuel D. Ingham, democratic congressman
1813–18 and 1822–9, and secretary of the treasury
under Jackson; Wm. D. Kelley, republican con-
gressman 1861–87; Michael Leib, democratic con-
gressman 1799–1806, and United States senator
1809–14; Edward McPherson, republican con-
gressman 1859–63, and clerk of the house of
representatives 1863–73; Wayne McVeagh, attor-
ney general under Garfield; John I. Mitchell, re-
publican congressman 1877–81, and United States
senator 1881–7; Gouverneur Morris, minister to
France 1792–4, and federalist United States senator
1800–3; Robert Morris, one of the signers of the
declaration of independence, the manager of the
revolutionary finances, a delegate to the conven-
tion of 1787, and United States senator 1789–95;
Frederick A Muhlenberg, democratic congressman
1789–95 (see CoNGRESS, SESSIONs of); Henry A.
Muhlenberg, democratic congressman 1829–38,
minister to Austria, 1838–40, and democratic
nominee for governor in 1844, Shunk being after-
ward substituted by reason of Muhlenberg's sudden
death; J. P. G. Muhlenberg, priest in the episco-
pal church, brigadier general in the revolutionary
army, democratic congressman 1789–91, 1793–5,
and 1789–1801; Asa Packer, democratic congress.
man 1853–7; Samuel J. Randall, democratic con-
gressman 1863–87 (see CONGRESS, SESSIONS OF);
Glenni W. Schofield, republican congressman
1863–75; Arthur St. Clair, major general in the
revolutionary army, and delegate to the continen-
tal congress (see ORDINANCE OF 1787); Wm. A.
Wallace, democratic state senator 1862–71, and
United States senator 1875–81 ; Wm. Wilkins,
democratic and anti-masonic United States Senator
1831–4 and 1843–4, minister to Russia 1834–5, and
secretary of war under Tyler; David Wilmot,
democratic congressman 1845–51, republican can-
didate for governor 1857, and United States sen-
ator 1861–3 (see WILMOT PROVISO); James Wilson,
delegate to the continental congress 1775–8, 1782–3
and 1785–7, member of the convention of 1787,
and justice of the United States supreme court
1789–98; Geo. W. Woodward, democratic can-
didate for United States senator in 1844, and for
governor in 1863, judge of the state supreme
court 1852–67, and congressman 1867–71; and
Hendrick B. Wright, democratic congressman
1853–5, 1861–3 and 1877–81. — See 2 Poore's Fed-
eral and State Constitution; Clarkson's Memoir of
Penn; 2 Wm. Penn's Works; Hazard's Annals of
Pennsylvania (to 1682); Pennsylvania Archives (to
1786), and Register of Pennsylvania; Clay's Annals
of the Swedes on the Delaware ; authorities on
Mason and Dixon's Iine under MARYLAND ; 3
Franklin's Works, 107; Proud's History of Penn-
sylvania (to 1742); Gordon's History of Pennsylva-
nia (to 1776); Fuller's Political Class Book of
Pennsylvania (1853); Carpenter's History of Penn-
sylvania (1854); Barber’s History and Antiquities
of Pennsylvania (1856); Watson's Annals of Penn-
sylvania and Philadelphia; Sypher's School History
of Pennsylvania (1868); Bates’ History of Penn-
sylvania (1869); Cornell's History of Pennsylvania,
(1876); Morton’s History of the Appellation Key-
stone State; Gibbons' Pennsylvania Dutch; Bettle's
Negro Slavery in Pennsylvania ; Bates' Martial
Deeds of Pennsylvania, Rupp's History of Lan-
caster County; Harris' Biographical History of
Lancaster County (to 1873); Goodwin’s Pennsylva-
nia Biography (1840); Armor's Lives of the Gov-
ernors of Pennsylvania (to 1872); Biographical
PERSIA.
159
Encyclopædia of Pennsylvania (to 1874); W. D.
Relley’s Speeches and Addresses; and authorities
under DELAWARE and WYOMING.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
I’ENNY BANKS. (See BANKS, HISTORY AND
MANAGEMENT OF SAVINGS.)
PENSIONS. (See UNITED STATES PENSION
LAWS, AND THE PENSION LAWS OF OTHER COUN-
TRIES.)
PERSIA. The name Persia awakens great mem-
ories. But Persia, or Iran, is no longer the flourish-
ing empire of the Sophis, and still less the vaster
and more powerful empire of the great kings. Mod-
ern Persia has an area of scarcely more than 65,000
Square geographical leagues (of twenty-five to a
degree). It is bounded on the north by Russia,
the Caspian sea and Turkestan; on the east by
the kingdoms of Herat and of Cabul and the
confederation of the Beloochees; on the south by
the gulf of Oman and the Persian gulf; on the
west by Turkey in Asia. This vast territory has
scarcely nine millions of inhabitants; which is
explained by the fact that the country has met
with the fate of all the countries of western Asia,
which, after having been in ancient times the
theatre of a rich development of civilization, pre-
sent to the traveler of the present day only the
ruins of ancient cities and an abased people, igno-
rant, for the most part, of the glory of their ances-
tors. —Nevertheless, the Persians are very intelli-
gent and tolerably active. Only, their intelligence
is principally exercised on metaphysical questions,
while their activity is concentrated upon com-
merce and brokerage. The only laborious inhab-
itants of the country are the Turks, who conquered
Persia about five hundred years ago, but their
patience and spirit of order are exercised only in
rudimentary agriculture. — The name of Iran,
which Persia gives herself, and which Europe al-
lows to her, would mislead us should we persist in
Seeing in the modern Persians an Indo-European
race. The Aryans of the ancient invasions have
almost wholly disappeared in the Semitic masses
of Farsistan; at the time of the Achemenidian
kings, six centuries before Christ, this fusion was
already far advanced. It has since only increased,
and a truly Semitic people, under the name of
Tadjik, now occupies all the towns of Persia and
the countries of the southeast. The Aryam blood
has been better preserved in the other Farsee
group, the Kurds, who, to the number of about
a million, inhabit the mountains of the west. An
entirely different race, the Turks or Phlats, occupy
the north. Neither must the name of Touram,
which they give themselves, and which the Per-
Sians grant them, cause us to see in them a peo-
ple exclusively Mongolian; they are Mongolians
strongly Aryanized, like their ancestors, the Arsa-
Cidaean Parthians. It is they who have furnished
to Persia the greater part of her dynasties. The
reigning dynasty, that of the Kadjars, came from
Persia.
the heart of their feudal system, which comprises
700,000 to 800,000 individuals. The Turkish
tribes are not subject to the king, but are merely
his vassals. On the contrary, the king has for
subjects all the Persians, Tadjiks or Kurds. – The
king is sovereign master of the state and of his
subjects, of their lives and of their fortunes; thisis,
as we see, what has been called eastern despotism;
a despotism which is not absolute, however, since
it finds limits in religion, tradition and the priv-
ileges of the corporations and of the tribes. The
crown is hereditary in the direct line; but the king,
or shah, may choose his successor from among
his sons. He designates him during his lifetime,
in order to prevent civil war. — There are a great
number of offices in the court of the shah of
There is a swordbearer, a shieldbearer,
a cupbearer, etc. The functions of the grand
marshal (masakitchee bashee) consist not Only in
directing the service of the Persian army, but
also in watching over the execution of justice.
The grand master of ceremonies and the grand
master of hospitality are charged with the receps
tion of ambassadors and travelers of distinction.
The highest dignity of the empire is that of the
first minister (vizier-à-azem). He concentrates in
his hands the whole government and adminis-
tration. After him come the steward (a/méen-ed-
doulah), who has charge of the finances; the high
chancellor of state (mounchee-il-memalºk), who has
charge of internal affairs; and finally, the mous-
teffi, or secretaries of state, among whom is found
the eshker-rvivois, or secretary of state in the war
department. The executor of confiscations is also
an important functionary.— The empire is divided
into eleven provinces, which are administered in
the following manner: In each province a gov-
ernor (beglerbeg) has under his authority the com-
manders of the towns (kakºms and 2dbits), the
mayors of important localities (kelanter), those of
the villages (ketkhodah), the lieutenants of police
(darogha), the chiefs of police (mºr-i-ahdas) the
market commissioners (mouhteşāb), and the (pak-
kee) or tax gatherers. The distinctive feature of
the Persian administration, as in all the countries
of the orient, is, that power is delegated in full;
thus, the governors of provinces or towns are real
kings, until the king exiles them or puts them to
death. The police exercise their functions in a
very remarkable manner in Persia. The towns
are divided into districts. The inhabitants of
each district choose their lieutenant of police
from among the most honorable citizens. These
functions are gratuitous, and are obtained only by
a spotless reputation. In this respect, Persia pos-
sesses the germ of a fruitful principle of munic-
ipal liberty, which, carried out, would have a
favorable influence upon the social condition of
the country. Unlike other Mussulman (that is to
say, Sunnite) countries, in which civil law and
religious law are confounded, Persia distinguishes
the precepts of the Koran, with the adminis-
tration of which the clergy are charged, from the
laical law. The wrf, or customary law, compre-
160
PERSIA.
hending the crimes or misdemeanors which dis-
turb society, such as murder, theft, fraud, etc., is
the province of a court composed of secular
magistrates. The sovereign is the first of these
magistrates. The governors of provinces, the
commandants of cities, and the other officers of
the government administer justice, in the name
of the shah, each in his own jurisdiction. An-
other difference, of equal importance, between
Persia and other Mussulman countries, is the ex-
istence of a clergy of priests, an institution con-
trary to the very spirit of Islamism, which admits
only of jurisconsults and judges. The mollahs
and the mooshtehed, their chiefs, have inherited,
in Mussulman Persia, some of the power of the
mazdean måbeds, as well as of their unpopularity,
justified, it is said, by the conduct of these priests,
and which would, moreover, be abundantly ex-
plained by this fact: that Persia is Mussulman
only in appearance. If we except, indeed, a certain
number of Turks, strict Sun nºtes, like their Otto-
man congeners, and as such, very hostile to a cler-
gy of priests, Persian Islamism, or Shiism, while
remaining the official religion, resolves itself into
a national religion, which the Sunnites hold to be
very similar to Christianity, and which in fact
concentrates all veneration upon Ali; and some
sects of which even make a god of him. But
even this schismatic religion has but very few
convinced adherents; every one makes an obliga-
tory profession of it; but the entire bourgeoisie
is made up of Sufis, or free-thinkers, not that
there are any atheists among them, nor, especially,
any dogmatic materialists; all Persian imagina-
tions, on the contrary, are full of the supernatu-
ral: but the sufis are absolutely freed from Islam.
Lastly, the moral element, truly religious, of
Persia, is to be found in the mossayris, monoga-
mous gnostics, whom every one in Persia takes
for Christians, and who, in reality, appear to
have derived their doctrine from Buddhism.
The nossayris comprise two-fifths of Persia. It
would be unjust to forget, in this enumeration, a
set of sufis, the babis, a recent sect founded by
an enthusiast, prophet and martyr, who declared
the religion of Mohammed abolished. His doc-
trine, which appears to be absolute rationalism,
made great progress, and caused a riot, which
was quelled only in the blood of its votaries.
—The system of finance established in Persia
for the assessment and collection of taxes pre-
sents nothing analogous to the institutions which
exist among the nations of Europe. The revenues
of the state, or, to speak more accurately, the rev-
enues of the Sovereign, were estimated, in 1873,
at about seventy-five millions of francs. This sum
is the product of imposts and taxes of all kinds,
which are assessed in the following manner : the
land tax, or mellat, which is paid partly in kind and
partly in money, and is one-fifth of the product; the
tax to which domestic animals, horses, camels,
sheep, goats, bees, etc., are subject, and which
varies according to their different kinds; the per-
Sonal tax and house tax, of which we can make no
exact valuation, and which vary in the different
provinces. These last taxes are not levied in the
towns, except on the shops and stores of merchants,
who pay in proportion to the amount of their busi-
ness. Foreign goods are subject to a duty of 5 per
cent., paid at the frontiers, and to an additional one
of 13 per cent., in the tollhouses, farmed out to pri-
vate individuals, which pay considerable sums to
the government. The tax is not always directly
collected by the divan, which, on the other hand,
does not always pay the functionaries directly.
The latter receive an order to collect the tax of
certain villages, which constitute their appanage.
As the cadastre is old, the tax which the tax gath-
erer is authorized to collect according to his war-
rant, is frequently less than the two-tenths of the
actual revenue, which the functionary does not
fail to collect; therefore the king issued, in 1869,
two edicts, one to enjoin the tax payers to pay
only the quota registered at the divan; the other
to order a census which was regarded as the pre-
lude to a new cadastre.—But we have as yet spoken
only of the fixed taxes; there are variable ones, and
a great number of them. There is the ea traordi-
nary tribute, which is one of the most vexatious;
it is exacted to meet certain expenses of the royal
family, such as the marriage of a prince of the
blood, or any other solemnity; there is the Sadr,
designed to provide for the expenses occasioned
by ambassadors of foreign courts, and to entertain
high functionaries; there is the pºk-ked, or present
to the king, which, though called a voluntary taa,
is none the less exacted. This present is made
annually to the king by the governors of the
provinces and the great dignitaries of the king-
dom; it is necessarily the fruit of an arbitrary
imposition. Public establishments are also sub-
ject to the payment of periodical dues. – If the
revenues of the crown are considerable in Persia,
where the necessaries of life are much cheaper
than in Europe, the functionaries are but slightly
remunerated; in return, however, they are left at
liberty to pay themselves, to the detriment of the
people. When an important man or a dignitary
of the empire sees that he can enrich himself by
obtaining the government of a province, he makes
his request to a sovereign, fixing in advance the
snm which he pledges himself to pay annually
into the treasury. The place is given to the high-
est bidder. It may easily be imagined what the
conduct of this sort of royal farmers must be It
is true that the sovereign receives all the complaints
which are made to him; but it is solely to the end
of making the beglerbeg disgorge, for the benefit
of the state, whenever his wealth has become too
great. Thus the people and the sovereign are
equally satisfied. — The peasantry alone are sub-
ject to taxation. The merchants and workmen
are legally exempt from it. The merchants trans-
mit their business to their sons; their honesty is
proverbial, and all unemployed funds are intrust-
ed to them; they are the only bankers of the em-
pire. It is they who lend to the state, and as all
the money returns to their hands, they no longer
PERSIA.
161
fear the public bankruptcies which characterized
the ancient governments of Persia. The work-
men have their corporations, their regulations,
their funds, their elected assemblies. It is the
Organization of St. Louis, or rather, it is the or-
ganization which St. Louis had regulated, and
which came from the Roman empire, which had
found it in the east. It was, in fact, after the
capture of Ctesiphon that Alexander Severus
organized the trade corporations. Industry has
declined very much from what it was under
the Sophis. The ancient manufactories of silk
and velvet (Kashan, Ispahan, Reschet), and the
manufactories of arms (Kerman, Schiraz), are
no longer in existence, but commerce is carried
on in an indifferent way. — As to the military
forces of Persia, see the note hereto appended. —
The resources of Persia would be immense if it
were possible to make the most of them. Gold,
silver, copper, iron, jasper, white marble, sul-
phur, copperas, Salt and saltpetre, turquoise, bitu-
men, naphtha and petroleum: all these abound
in Iran. The soil is remarkably fertile wherever
irrigation is practicable, but large areas of fertile
land are uninhabited, and it is only the facility
of finding fields to cultivate which compensates
somewhat for the lack of work in the cities. The
vast saline deserts in Persia might be brought
under cultivation by supplying them with the
necessary water. The products of the soil are
flax, hemp, sesame, tobacco, cotton, Saffron, ter-
ebinth, mastic, gums, gall nuts, and dye plants.
Persia furnishes to commerce annually, 20,000
bales of silk. The opium-yielding poppy is very
extensively cultivated there. Manna and rhu-
barb are exported. But this wealth can be sent
out of the kingdom only at a very considerable
cost for transportation, so imperfect are the
means of communication. If Persia had roads
kept in good repair, commerce there would de-
velop immensely, the mines could be worked,
and the public wealth would increase ten-fold in
a very short time. Such must be, however, the
foundation of all social renovation for the nations
of the east, and since 1873, the year of the shah’s
first visit to Europe, we have been assured that
measures have been taken to construct roads and
to introduce into Persia several of the most im-
portant European institutions.”—BIBLIOGRAPHY.
* By the treaty of Dec. 9 (21), 1881, ratified Feb. 28 (March
12), 1882, the boundary between the Persian province of
Chorasan and the territory of the Turkomans, which had
latery been occupied by the Russians, was finally established.
By the stipulations of that treaty the boundary line is
formed by the lower parts of the Atrek river upward to Fort
Tschat, by the ridge of the Songu Dagh and by the Sjagirim
mountains; it next crosses the upper Tshandyr, runs in a
northeasterly direction to the Sumbar, following its course
to its mouth; it then runs along the ridge of the Kopet Dagh
in a southeasterly direction, following, as a whole, irrespect-
ive of some sinuosities and indentations, the northern
water-shed of the Atrek river, up to Baba-Durmas, which
remains in the possession of Persia. This conquest by
Russia has at least the advantage for Persia, that a con-
siderable portion of the latter country will henceforth be
Secure from the destructive invasions of the Turkomans;
the Russians also gave their freedom to a great number of
130 VOL. III. — 11
T. S. Andersen, My Wanderings in Persia, 8vo,
London, 1880; General Blaramberg, Statistical
Survey of Persia, made in the years 1837–40 (in
Russian), 8vo, St. Petersburg, 1853; Do. Heinrich
Brugsch, Reise der K. preussischen Gesandtschaft
nach Persien, 1860 und 1861, 2 vols., 8vo, Leip-
captive Persians in the settlements of the Tekke (Turko-
mans). The sixth volume of Behm & Wagner's Die Bevol-
kerung der Erde contains the latest estimates of the popu-
lation of Persia, by Gen. Houtum-Schindler, who possesses
a most thorough knowledge of the country; these estimates
are based, partly on the general’s own observations, and
partly on the statements of the Persian minister of finance,
and are as follows:
Inhabitants.
99 towns, with 363,630 families -------------------- 1,963,600
Villages and about 30 districts containing no towns. 3,780,000
Nomads, as follows:
Arabians, with . .------ 57,800 families )
Turks, with ----. ------ 4%% . . 424,400
§º.iº. . ; ; ; 1,909,800
Belooches, Gipsies, with 4,600 & .
Bachtjares, Lurcs, with 52,000 & © . |
Total ----------------------------------------- 7,653,600
According to religion these 7,653,600 inhabitants are divided
into 6,860,600 Shiites, 700,000 Sunnites and Mohammedan
sectarians, 8,000 Parsees, 19,000 Jews, 43,000 Armenians, and
23,000 Nestorians. Of 1,000 Armenians, 528 are males, 472
females; of 1,000 Mohammedans, 495 are males, and 505
females. – The cultivation and the export of opium, which
are not only encouraged by the government, but even ordered
by it, have lately considerably increased, while in other
respects little or no progress has been made in the country.
The Persian opium trade dates only from the Anglo-Chinese
war. In consequence of the safety afforded by the occupa-
tion of Hong Kong by the English, Persian opium gradually
made its way to China. The prohibitory duties exacted in
the ports of India had been a great obstacle in the way of
trade, and for a long time more opium was sent to Constan-
tinople than to Hong Kong. Finally, some merchants of
Iesd discovered the route via Ceylon, and now that drug is
shipped via Bender-Abbas directly to China, by steamers of
the Pei-ho line of steamships. In 1880 the export was 6,000
piculs (or boxes of 125 English lbs.), and in 1881, 8,000;
while ten years previous, the export amounted to but 4,000
piculs, or one-half of the amount exported in 1881. 8,000
piculs are equivalent to 480 English tons, and are but
one-tenth of the quantity of opium exported from India.
With better roads, Persia might well nigh make its com-
petition felt by India. Probably in consequence of the
primitive method of manufacturing it, Persian opium is a
little cheaper than that produced in India; crude Persian
opium costs ten rupees per see (two lbs.); refined, thirteen
and one-third rupees, against sixteen rupees for refined
Indian opium. — The Persian priesthood consists of many
orders, the chief of them at the present time being that
of Mooshtehed, of whom there are but five in number
in the whole country. Vacancies in this post are filled
nominally by the members of the order, but in reality by
the public voice, and the shah himself is excluded from
all power of appointment. Next in rank to the mooshtehed
is the sheik-ul-islam, or ruler of the faith, of whom there is
one in every large town, nominated by, and receiving his
salary from, the government. Under these dignitaries there
are three classes of ministers of religion, the mooturelle,
one for each mosque or place of pilgrimage; the muezzin,
or Sayer of prayers, and the mollah, or conductor of rites.
The Armenians are under two bishops, one of them Roman
Catholic, and both residing at Ispahan. There is wide tol-
erance exercised toward Armenians and Nestorians, but the
Jews and Guebres suffer under great oppression. Education
is in a comparatively advanced state, at least as far as the
upper classes are concerned. There are a great number of
colleges, supported by public funds, in which students are
instructed in religion and Persian and Arabian literature, as
well as in a certain amount of scientific knowledge, while
private tutors are very common, being employed by all fam-
ilies who have the means. A larger portion of the popula-
tion of Persia are possessed of the rudiments of education
162
PERSONAL LIBERTY LAWS.
zig, 1864; E. B. Eastwick, Journal of a Diplo-
mate's Three Years’ Residence in Persia, 2 vols.,
8vo, London, 1864; A. H. Keane and Sir R.
Temple, Asia, London, 1882; Col. C. M. Mac-
gregor, Narrative of a Journey through the Prov-
Ønce of Khorassam and the Worthwest Frontier
of Afghanistan ºn 1875, 2 vols., London, 1879;
Clements R. Markham, A General Sketch of the His-
tory of Persia, 8vo., London, 1874; Capt. Hippisley
Cunliffe Marsh, A Ride through Islam : being a
Journey through Persia and Afghanistan to India,
8vo., London, 1877; Chas. de Molon, De la Perse:
Etudes sur la Géographie, le Commerce, la Poli-
tique, l’Industrie, l’Administration, etc., 8vo, Ver-
Sailles, 1875; Augustus Mounsey, A Journey
than of any other country in Asia, except China. The
revenue and expenditure of the government are known
only from estimates, as no budgets or other official ac-
counts have ever been published. The receipts of the
year 1875 amounted to 4,361,660 tomans, or £2,026,354, in
money, besides payments in kind, consisting of barley,
wheat, rice and silk, valued at 550,840 tomans, or £255,911,
making the total revenue equal to 4,912,500 tomans, or
£2,282,265. The bulk of the public expenditure is for the
maintenance of troops, and salaries, with pensions, to the
Persian priesthood, while each annual surplus is paid into
the shah’s treasury. Almost the entire burthen of taxation
lies, as remarked above, upon the laboring classes, and,
among these, upon the Mohammedan subjects of the shah.
The amount of revenue collected from the Christian popula-
tion, the Jews, and the Guebres, is reported to be very
small. The government has no public debt. — By a decree
of the shah, issued in July, 1875, it was ordered that the
army should for the future be raised by conscription, instead
of by irregular levies, and that a term of service of twelve
years should be substituted for the old system, under which
the mass of the soldiers were retained for life. The organi-
zation of the army is by provinces, tribes and districts. A
province furnishes several regiments; a tribe gives one, and
sometimes two, and a district contributes one battalion to
the army. The commanding officers are almost invariably
Selected from the chiefs of the tribe or district from which
the regiment is raised. The Christians, Jews and Guebres in
Persia are exempt from all military service. The whole ex-
ternal trade of Persia may be roughly valued at £4,000,000
annually, of which £2,500,000 may be taken as the value of
the imports, and £1,500,000 as that of the exports. The
greater part of the commerce of Persia centres at Tabreez,
which is the chief emporium for the productions of north-
ern India, Samarkand, Bokhara, Cabul and Beloochistan.
There are no official returns of the value of the total im-
ports and exports, the former of which are estimated to
have averaged £1,000,000, and the latter £500,000, per an-
num, in the year 1876–80. The principal article of import
into Tabreez during the five years consisted of cotton
goods of British manufacture, of the average annual
value of £800,000; while the chief article of export was
silk, shipped for France and Great Britain, of the aver-
rage annual value of £110,000. All the European mer-
chandise that reaches Tabreez passes by Constantinople to
Trebizond, whence it is forwarded by caravans. Upward of
f100,000 worth of carpets are now annually exported to
Europe. — Persia has a system of telegraphs, established by
Europeans. At the end of 1879 there were 3,367 miles of
telegraph lines and 5,660 miles of telegraph wire in opera-
tion. The number of telegraph offices, was seventy-one at
the same date. The number of dispatches forwarded in the
year 1878 was 500,000, the revenue of the year from tele-
graphs amounting to £15,000. The first regular postal serv-
ice, also established by Europeans, was opened in January,
1877. Under it mails are conveyed from Julfa, on the Rus-
sian frontier, to Tabreez and Teheran, and from thence to
the port of Resht, on the Caspian sea. In November, 1882,
the Persian government arranged with a syndicate of French
capitalists for the construction of a railway from Resht to
Teheran, 250 miles. (See Statesman's Manual, 1883.)
through the Caucasus and the Interior of Persia,
8vo, London, 1872; John Piggot, Persia: Ancient
and Moderm, 8vo, London, 1875; Do. Jak. Ed.
Polak, Persiem. Das Land und Seine Bewohner:
Ethnographische Schilderungen, 2 vols., 8vo, Leip-
zig, 1865; Lady Sheil, Glimpses of Life and Man-
ners in Persia, 8vo, London, 1856; E. Stack, Sia,
Months in Persia ; 2 vols., London, 1882; Baron
Thielmann, Travels ºn the Caucasus, Persia, and
Thurkey in Asia, 2 vols., 8vo, London, 1876; I.
Thomson, La Perse: Sa population, ses revenues,
Son armée, son commerce, avec motes par W. de
JKhanikof, in “Bulletºn de la Société de géogra-
phie,” Juillet, 8vo, Paris, 1869; John Ussher, Jour-
Tvey from London to Persepolis, including Wam-
derings in Daghestan, Georgia, Armenia, Kurdis-
tam, Mesopotamia and Persia, 8vo, London, 1866;
Robert Grant Watson, A History of Persia, from
the beginning of the nineteenth century to the year
1858, 8vo, London, 1873. F. M.
PERSONAL LIBERTY LAWS (IN U. S. HIs-
TORY), statutes passed by the legislatures of va-
rious northern states, during the existence of the
fugitive slave laws, for the purpose of securing
to alleged fugitives the privilege of the writ of
habeas corpus and the trial by jury, which those
laws denied them. (See FUGITIVE SLAVE LAws.)
— In 1840 New York passed an act securing a
trial by jury to persons accused of being fugitive
slaves. This was the first real “personal liberty
law,” other previous state statutes being ostensi-
bly or really designed to assist in the rendition of
fugitives; and even this statute soon fell into
disuse and was practically forgotten. The case of
Prigg vs. Pennsylvania (see FUGITIVE SLAVE
LAWs) was decided in 1842, and in 1843 Massa-
chusetts and Vermont passed laws prohibiting
state officers from performing the duties exacted
of them by the first fugitive slave law, and for-
bidding the use of the jails of the state for the
detention of fugitives. In 1847 and 1848 Penn-
sylvania and Rhode Island passed similar laws.
Other states refused to do so. — The passage of
the fugitive slave law of 1850, which avoided all
employment of state officers, necessitated a change
in the personal liberty laws. Accordingly, new
laws were passed by Vermont, Rhode Island and
Connecticut in 1854, by Maine, Massachusetts and
Michigan in 1855, by Wisconsin and Kansas in
1858, by Ohio in 1859, and by Pennsylvania in
1860. These laws generally prohibited the use of
the state's jails for detaining fugitives; provided
state officers, under various names, throughout
the state, to act as counsel for persons alleged to
be fugitives; secured to all such persons the bene-
fits of habeas corpus and trial by jury; required
the identity of the fugitive to be proved by two
witnesses; forbade state judges and officers to issue
writs or give any assistance to the claimant; and
imposed a heavy fine and imprisonment for the
crime of forcibly seizing or representing as a
slave any free person with intent to reduce him to
slavery. New Hampshire, New York, New Jer-
PERSONAL UNION.
163
sey, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Minnesota, California
and Oregon passed no full personal liberty laws;
but there were only two of these states, New
Jersey and California, which gave any official
sanction or assistance to the rendition of fugitive
slaves, though three of them, Indiana, Illinois and
Oregon, did so indirectly, by prohibiting the en-
trance within their borders of negroes either slave
or free. In the other states named above, the
action of the legislative, judiciary or executive was
generally so unfriendly that the South Carolina
declaration of causes for secession in 1860 in-
cluded Illinois, Indiana, Iowa and New Hamp-
shire with the ten states which had passed liberty
laws, in the charge of having violated their con-
stitutional obligation to deliver fugitive slaves. –
The fugitive slave law and the personal liberty
laws together show plainly that the compromise
of 1850 (see CoMPROMISEs, W.) was far worse
than labor lost. It gave the south a law to which
it had no title; even Rhett, in the South Carolina
secession convention, declared that he had never
considered the fugitive slave law constitutional.
It thus provoked the passage of the personal lib-
erty laws in the north. Each section, ignoring
the other's complaints, exhausted its own patience
in calling for a redress which neither was willing
to accord first. It is not meant to be understood
that secession would never have Occurred without
the aid of the fugitive slave law and its counter-
vailing statutes; only that secession would have
had to search much more diligently for an excuse
without them. Throughout the whole declara-
tion of South Carolina in 1860 there is hardly an
allegation which, in any point of view, deserves
respectful consideration, with this single exception
of the personal liberty laws; and these were the
unconstitutional results of the unconstitutional
fugitive slave law. — The objection to the consti-
tutionality of the fugitive slave law is, in brief,
that the rendition of fugitive slaves, as well as of
fugitives from justice, was an obligation imposed
by the constitution upon the states; and that the
federal government, which has never attempted to
give the law in the latter case, had no more right
to do so in the former. (See FUGITIVE SLAVE
LAws.) This opinion, however, has against it
the unanimous opinion of the Supreme court in
the case of Ableman vs. Booth, cited below. But
there is absolutely no legal excuse for the personal
liberty laws. If the rendition of fugitive slaves
was a federal obligation, the personal liberty laws
were in flat disobedience to law; if the obligation
was upon the states, they were a gross breach of
good faith, for they were intended, and operated,
to prevent rendition; and in either case they were
in violation of the constitution, which the state
legislators themselves were sworn to support.
The dilemma is so inevitable that only the pres-
sure of an intense and natural horror of surren-
dering to slavery a man who had escaped from it,
or who had never been subject to it, can palliate
the passage of the laws in question. Plainly, the
people, in adopting the fugitive slave clause of the
constitution, had assumed an obligation which it
was not possible to fulfill. — The writer's own
belief that the obligation of rendition was upon
the states alone, has prevented him from classing
the personal liberty laws under nullification. If,
however, the obligation was really federal, they
were certainly nullifications, though not to the
same degree as that of South Carolina; for the
latter absolutely prohibited the execution of the
tariff act, while the former only impeded the ren-
dition of fugitive slaves. The principle, however,
is the same. (See NULLIFICATION.) It is worthy
of notice, however, that when the supreme court,
in the case of Ableman vs. Booth, overrode the
Wisconsin personal liberty law, the Wisconsin
legislature passed a series of resolutions, March
19, 1859, reaffirming the Kentucky resolutions of
1799 (see KENTUCKY RESOLUTIONs), but making
them read “that a positive défiance ’’ (instead of
a nullification) “is the rightful remedy.” — See
Massachusetts Revised Statutes (1860), c. 125, § 20;
2 Wilson's Rise and Fall of the Slave Power, 57,
639; Joel Parker's Personal Liberty Laws (1861);
B. R. Curtis' Works, 328, 345; 2 ib., 69; Tyler's
Life of Taney, 398; Appleton’s Annual Cyclopædia
(1861), 575; 21 How., 506 (Ableman vs. Booth); 2
Webster's Works, 577; Schuckers' Life of Chase,
178. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
PERSONAL UNION, or dynastic union, is
the combination by which two different states are
governed by the same prince, while their bound-
aries, their laws and their interests remain distinct.
Thus, in modern times, the king of England was
at the same time king of Hanover; the king of
Saxony, grand duke of Warsaw; the king of
Denmark, duke of Schleswig-Holstein; the em-
peror of Austria, king of Hungary; the king of
Prussia, prince of Neufchâtel; the king of Sweden,
king of Norway; the king of The Netherlands,
grand duke of Luxemburg; the emperor of Russia,
grand duke of Finland; and the king of Prussia,
duke of Lauenburg. — Personal union scarcely ever
exists except between countries the populations of
which belong to different nationalities, or inhabit
territories distant from each other. If the terri-
tories of the two countries were contiguous and
their populations of the same race, speaking the
same language, and a complete fusion did not
take place between them, the mistake would be so
great a one that it could not but result in serious
inconveniences. It seems as if in such a case the
separation could not be maintained. — According
to the letter of international law, one of the coun-
tries which is united to another by personal
union may be at peace, while the other is at war.
Thus, it might have happened, between 1816 and
1866, that the king of The Netherlands should have
furnished for Luxemburg a military contingent to
a war, which the Germanic confederation might
have waged against Italy, for instance, without
his minister plenipotentiary leaving Turin, or that
of Italy demanding his passports at The Hague.
We might even imagine cases, improbable though
164
PERU.
not impossible, in which the grand duke of Lux-
emburg might have been in one camp, and the
king of The Netherlands in the other. The same
thing would be still more improbable in Sweden
or in Norway, and entirely impossible in Finland,
whose personal union with Russia is only on pa-
per, while its real union is in the facts. Moreover
there can be a personal union only between con-
stitutional states. In absolute governments it is
the sovereign who declares war; he is the state;
and it is of little import that one of his terri-
tories is called Kamtschatka, and another Po-
land; it is still the emperor of Russia who acts,
and against whom defense is made. —We do not
consider personal union a very rational combi-
nation. If two states have not enough mutual
interest and sympathy to unite their destinies,
let them remain separated; mutual independence
does not exclude an alliance, which will not de-
lay being formed if there is any reason for it, if
it has any grounds and an aim. A personal union
will almost necessarily influence the politics of
One of the countries united, to the exclusive ad-
vantage of the other. It sometimes results in
domestic animosities, which, as is well known,
are the most bitter and inveterate. — Personal
union, it seems to us, is practicable Only when
the two countries form a unit vis-a-vis of foreign
states. But it is not sufficient that the two coun-
tries be represented by one and the same diplo-
matic agent; it is also necessary that their armies
should be united into one, and consequently,
that the two countries should have common
finances; from which it follows, that the two
countries united must have, besides, their re-
spective chambers for the special affairs of each
country, a common parliament authorized to deal
with international questions. The history of the
United Kingdom furnishes an example which
other countries should follow, and the ultimate
fusion, which might be the result of the function-
ing of a common parliament, seems to us an ad-
vantage great enough to induce a state not to
neglect the means to arrive at it. We are even
surprised they have not yet thought of this in
Sweden and Norway, where they ought to begin
to constitute a common parliament if they indeed
desire to firmly establish “Scandinavism" (which
is not spoken of so much as it was in 1860–65).
MAURICE BLOCK.
PERU. Traversed from north to south by the
two parallel chains of the Andes, Peru extends
from the equator to Chili, over a length of nearly
1,500 kilometres. It is bounded on the east by
the Amazon river, and by Brazil. Its entire area
is estimated at nearly 450,000 square kilometres.
The most highly favored portions of this vast ter-
ritory, those which are most richly endowed by na-
ture, are situated between the eastern slope of the
Andes and Brazil; they have as yet Scarcely any
European population, and are almost wholly un-
explored. The greater part of the population is
settled upon the western side, between the Andes
and the Sea. It is not very large. At the time of
the last census, (1876), there were 2,704,998 in-
habitants, besides about 350,000 uncivilized In-
dians.—As in all other parts of Spanish America,
the census population is far from being composed
of homogeneous elements. The agricultural class-
es are entirely Indian. The mechanics and shop-
keepers of the towns and villages are a mixture
of Indians and half-breeds. The lower classes of
the coast belong to what is called the Zambo ele-
ment, a mixture formed by the crossing of ne-
groes, Chinese and Indians. The higher classes
are in a great degree of Spanish origin; the num-
ber of families in which the Spanish blood is en-
tirely pure is very limited; the same is true of
the Indian families which form a part of these
classes. The pure Indian type, unmixed with
Spanish blood, is very rare. The ratio of these
races is estimated thus: 57 per cent. of Indians,
23 of mixed breeds, 12% of whites born in Peru,
3% of negroes, 1% of Chinese, and 2+ of foreigners.
— Peru, while it has had a good many internal
dissensions and quarrels with its neighbors and
foreign powers, is nevertheless far from present-
ing as sad an internal and external history as do
so many of the other republics of Spanish Amer-
ica. The comparative repose which it enjoyed
[up to the time of the Chilian-Peruvian war] *
* The so-called “saltpetre war" carried on by the repub-
lic of Chili, against the allied republics of Peru and Bo-
livia, was begun in the year 1879. For decades there had
existed a controversy concerning the boundaries between
Chili and Bolivia. The question in dispute was, whether the
province of Atacamba, between Peru and Chili, belonged en-
tirely to Bolivia, or whether Chili had a right to claim its
extremest southern part. This question increased in sig-
nificance, when it was discovered, that there were in this
very southern part vast deposits of guano, extensive beds of
saltpetre and rich veins of silver. By the treaty of Aug. 10,
1866, the governments of Chili and Bolivia agreed that the
territory in dispute should belong to both states in common,
so far as the division of receipts ſrom taxes and revenue
duties was concerned, and Bolivia pledged itself in no way
to disturb Chilian citizens in the exploitation of the salt-
petre mines. Incensed by Peru, with which Bolivia had con-
cluded a secret offensive and defensive alliance in 1873, the
government of Bolivia did not observe the treaty of 1866; it
arbitrarily taxed a Chilian company of merchants in the sea-
port of Antofagasta, and here meeting with resistance, made
several arrests and confiscated the property of the company.
Peru, which exported large quantities of guano and Saltpetre,
and feared the competition of energetic Chili, did not dislike
this repression. Chili complained of the action of Bolivia
in violation of the treaty, and when the latter did not pay
any attention to its complaints, Chili equipped a squadron,
caused Antofagasta to be blockaded by the same on Feb.
14, 1879, and the entire saltpetre region to be seized. Upon
this followed, on the first of March, the declaration of war
by Bolivia, which, on the second day of April, concluded an
armed alliance with Peru. The Chilian Squadron next
blockaded the south Peruvian port of Iquique and other
ports in the neighborhood, whence saltpetre and guano were
exported. Pressed hard by the Peruvian fleet, which had
more iron-clads, the Chilians were, however, compelled to
raise the blockade and to retire to Antofagasta. But soon
afterward they succeeded in capturing the strongest iron-
clad of the enemy, in taking the port of Pisagua and in de-
feating the land forces of the Bolivians and Peruvians near
Dolores; they also occupied the port of Iquique and took
away the entire south Peruvian province of Tarapaca, with
its rich beds of guano and saltpetre. Chili was completely
master at sea, and Arica and other ports of Peru were block-
PERU.
165
s
was owing, not to the free play of its constitu-
tional institutions, the model of which was bor-
rowed for a short time from the great republic of
North America, but to the firmness and to the
more or less intelligence which have been shown
by the various military chiefs who filled the pres-
aded by the Chilian fleet. Intense excitement prevailed in
the two allied states, and their two respective governments
were overthrown; in Bolivia there existed a state of anarchy,
its army and finances being prostrate; in Peru, Gen. Pierola,
who had been elected president, ruled like a dictator. The
campaign of 1880 was still more favorable for the Chilians.
Their troops, under Gen. Baquedano, marched on the 20th
of March into the town of Moquegua, which had been aban-
doned by the Peruvians; the Chilian troops threw the enemy
back on Tacna, where the allied troops suffered another de-
feat, upon which the former occupied the town and took
Arica by storm. The Bolivian troops retired home after the
defeat near Tacna. Through the mediation of the United
States negotiations for peace were begun. The plenipoten-
idential chair in Peru. — The constitution of 1856,
modified Nov. 10, 1860, is the source of the pub-
lic law of Peru. The executive power is in the
hands of a president, invariably chosen from the
army. The president is elected for four years by
the citizens assembled in electoral colleges. He is
tiaries of the belligerent republics and of the United States
convoned on neutral gromnd, on hoard a United States man-
of-war, on the 22d of October. The conference, however,
did not agree as to the conditions of peace. The proposition
that the three states should submit to the arbitration of the
United States government was refused by the victorious
Chilians. Thus the conference came to an end, without any
result, on the 27th of October. With a force of about 24,000
men the Chilians resumed the war. They landed two army
corps on the coast of Peru, they routed the enemy, intrenched
near Lurin, and advanced toward Lima, the capital of Peru.
After having suffered two further defeats, one near Chorillos,
on Jan. 12, 1881, and the other near Miraflores, on the 15th
of the same month, the enemy fied in confusion to Lima.
The Peruvian army was now utterly demoralized, and un-
able to resist any further. Lima was occupied by the
Chilian troops on the 17th of January. In place of the
fugitive Pierola, Calderon was appointed provisional presi-
dent of Peru by a convention of notables; after the session
of congress, which had been convened with great difficulty,
had been opened, Calderon’s nomination was made definitive.
Gen. Lynch, who, in place of Gen. Baquedano, was in-
trusted with the chief command of the Chilian troops, came
in conflict with Calderon and with Galvez, the minister of
foreign affairs; he ordered their removal; and when, his
orders notwithstanding, both of them continued to exercise
their functions, they were arrested and sent to Santiago.
The United States government, believing it had a right to
intervene in all American states, and knowing its own
interest to be better guarded by the existence of small than
of large states, had already recognized the Calderon govern-
ment; it had also declared to the Chilian government, that
the latter would not be allowed to insist upon a cession of
territory as a condition preliminary to negotiations for
peace, and that the United States would not suffer any
intervention from Europe. Chili stipulated the following
conditions : Peru was to cede the district of Tarapaca, and
to pay a war indemnity of twenty millions of dollars within
sixteen years; until the completion of the payment of that
sum, Chili was to keep the town of Arica as a pledge; and
in case the indemnity should not be paid, Chili would keep
Arica and take possession also of the guano island, Lobos.
Chili declared to the American minister that it would decline
all further mediation in case of Peru's refusing to accept
these conditions. In a circular of Dec. 21, 1881, to the diplo-
matic representatives of Chili, Balmaceda, the Chilian
minister of foreign affairs, gave an āccurate account of the
causes of the war, of the events of the war and of the inter-
vention by the United States, and insisted upon the demand
of a cession of territory, which he signified as an indispensa-
ble means of indemnification, and a condition of security
based upon international law. At the same time he did not
fail to recall the fact that the United States government in its
international conflicts (especially in the wars with Mexico)
did not hesitate to impose on the vanquished adversary
cessions of large tracts of territory as a preliminary con-
dition. Under such circumstances the negotiations, it is
true, were continued, but the conclusion of peace was re-
moved to an incalculable distance; meanwhile Chili remained
in possession of what it had occupied.—During the year 1882
no essential change occurred in the condition of Peru.
The Chilians insisted upon their conditions of peace, and in
Peru they could find no government that would agree to
these conditions. Bolivia kept aloof from the war, and
neither could Peru expect any assistance from any other
power, the more so because the United States in 1882
abstained from any intervention. In that part of the coun-
try which had not been occupied by Chilian troops, lawless
gangs of soldiers, under rapacious and violent leaders, raged
in a most cruel manner. In Chincha sixty European in-
habitants were shot, and in pillaging the town the marauders
destroyed property valued at eight millions of dollars. En
the seaport of Pisco the gang of Col. Mas, on the 24th of
January, in a state of beastly intoxication, murdered several
hundreds of inhabitants. Several generals now claimed the
highest authority, and fought one against the other; thus:
Admiral Mantero, in Huaraz; farther north, the Indian Puga;
in Cajamarca, Pierola’s former minister of war, Gen. Iglesias;
in Arequipa, Carrillo; in Ayacucho, Gen. Caceres, a brave and
determined officer. The latter had some of the leaders of the
marauding troops shot, among them Col. Mas. The Chilians
refused to recognize the troops of these leaders as belligerent
soldiers, but treated all men who were captured with arms
in hand as highway robbers. The Peruvians treated the
Chilians in a like manner. Thus, on the 9th of July they
surprised and killed a troop of Chilian soldiers in Concep-
cion, upon which the Chilian general, del Canto, caused all
the inhabitants of that town to be massacred. The Chilians,
growing impatient because peace was not concluded, sought
to indemnify themselves by increasing the revenue duties,
and by imposing contributions ou the towns which thcy
held and occupied. In this manner they tried to compel
the Peruvians to make peace. The negotiations with Presi-
dent Garcia Calderon, confined in the interior of Chili,
remained without result, because he refused to agree to
the cession of Arica and Tacna. The Chilians therefore
entered into negotiations with Iglesias, an honest but
narrow-minded man, in Cajamarca; Iglesias proved to be
more ready to yield. Montero, however, who, by virtue
of his former capacity as vice-president, had declared him-
self the constitutional successor of Calderon, who had gone
to Arequipa and had even formed a ministry there, refused
to ratify the concessions made by Iglesias. – On May 15,
1883, a treaty of peace, accepted by Iglesias, was concluded
between Chili and Peru. The stipulations of the treaty
were as follows: 1. The unconditional surrender in perpe-
tuity to Chili of the department of Tarapaca as far north as
the Quebrada de Camarones, the whole of which territory is
consequently to be governed by Chili. 2. The territories of
Tacna and Arica, now held by Chili, are to be subject to the
legislation and government of that republic during ten
years from the date of the treaty's taking effect. At the
expiration of that time, a plebiscitum is to be had, which
shall decide whether that territory shall be subject to Chili
or return to Peru. The country which remains in possession
of the territory is to pay the other country 10,000,000 silver
Chilian dollars, or the equivalent in Peruvian soles. A
special protocol is to determine the form under which the
plebiscitum shall be held, and the time of payment of the
$10,000,000 alluded to. 3. The government of Chili binds
itself strictly to comply with the contract signed and decrees
issued respecting guano Feb. 9, 1882, and respecting nitrate
March 22 of the same year, and it adds thereto the following
declaration: “The said decree of Feb. 9, 1882, orders the
sale of 1,000,000 tons of guano, and article thirteen estab-
lishes that the net price of the guano, after deducting the
cost of extraction, analysis, weighing, loading, salaries of
employes to overlook these different operations, and all
expenses incurred up to the moment of placing it, Sacked,
on board the vessel, shall be divided in equal parts between
166.
PERU.
assisted by a council of ministers. The legislative
power is vested in a congress composed of two
chambers, who pass the budget and the laws in
the making of which the executive power has the
initiative. The senate is composed of forty mem-
bers, and the chamber of deputies of eighty.
During the interval between one session and an-
other, a permanent commission of seven Sena-
tors and eight deputies assists the president, and
performs the functions of a council of state. —
At the head of each department is a prefect, ap-
pointed by the president. The constitution of
1856 had instituted departmental juntas, but
these assemblies having resulted in making gov-
ernment impossible, it became necessary to dis-
solve them. In some departments the prefect did
not allow them to assemble. The municipal
juntas, composed of the principal inhabitants of
each locality, have given better results; for a
number of years, it has been remarked that they
are an excellent school of political and adminis-
trative education. — Thanks to an unlooked-for
resource, the sale of guano, which tends, how-
ever, to become exhausted, and of which the state
claimed the monopoly, the financial condition of
Peru was pretty good previous to the break-
ing out of the war with Chili. In the budget
of 1872 the receipts were 58,982,851 soles (five
francs), and the disbursements were 57,913,974
the government of Chili and the creditors of Peru, whose
credits are guaranteed by this article.” The government of
Chili also declares that, when the sale of 1,000,000 tons shall
have been completed, it will deliver to the creditors of Peru
50 per cent. of the net proceeds, as provided by article
thirteen, until the debt shall have been extinguished or
the deposits exhausted. But it is understood that only the
deposits which are actually worked are alluded to hereby,
and that all those which may hereafter be discovered or
worked in the annexed territories will belong exclusively to
Chili, which will retain all the proceeds and dispose of them
as she may determine. It is also understood that the credit-
ors of Peru who are benefited under this concession must
comply with the regulations contained in the decree of Feb.
9, 1882, and that, beyond the declarations contained in this
article, Chili does not recognize, on account of war or any
other motive, any indebtedness of Peru, of any nature
whatsoever. 4. The North Lobos islands will continue to be
managed by Chili until the 1,000,000 tons of guano which
have been sold shall have been delivered. Then they will
be returned to Peru. The 50 per cent. of the net proceeds
of the guano from the Lobos islands to which Chili is enti-
tled under the decree of Feb. 9, is ceded by her to Peru, and
payment thereof will be commenced directly the present
treaty shall have been ratified. — The questions referring to
the future commercial relations between the two countries,
and the indemnities due the Chilians for losses through the
war, are matters for subsequent discussion and arrangement.
The treaty, however, could not be carried into effect, because
the Peruvians refused to recognize Gen. Iglesias as their
lawful president, and to ratify the treaty he had signed.
Victorious Chili was from the beginning willing to recognize
Iglesias as president, because his presidency offered the
best guarantees for the ratification, and for the strict observ-
ance, of the treaty. Meanwhile, the lawless condition of
Peru continued. Bands of so-called “patriots,” who op-
posed Iglesias and the ratification of the treaty of peace,
committed numberless outrages. This reign of terror, and
the consideration of the fact that the conclusion of a treaty
would be an indispensable condition to the recovery of Peru,
caused the better part of the population of that country to
rally around Iglesias, and to support his claims to the
presidency. .
soles. The excess of receipts was thus 1,069,087
soles. The public debt, on Jan. 1, 1869, was
62,225,550 soles, say, 311,127,500 francs; it was
distributed thus: home debt, 4,737,800 soles.
(23,689,000 francs); foreign debt, 41,803,750 soles
(209,018,750 francs); sum due to consignees of
guano, 15,684,000 soles (78,420,000 francs). The
public debt in 1870 had increased to 104,855,000
Soles, distributed thus : consolidated internal debt,
1,350,000; new consolidated debt, 3,000,000; loan
of 1862 and various other debts, 5,905,000; Eng-
lish loan at 5 per cent. (1865), 35,000,000; another
English loan at 6 per cent. for the construction of
railroads, guaranteed by the receipts of the rail-
roads, custom house and guano, 59,600,000 soles.—
The Catholic religion has remained the religion
of the state; and unless he professes Catholicism,
no one can be admitted to fill any public office.
The government of the church is divided between
an archbishop and six bishops, and the church
derives its revenues from tithes. The congress of
1856 had some thought of introducing freedom
of worship, but a city celebrated in the history of
Peru for its pronunciamentos, Arequipa, threat-
ened to secede if that freedom should be granted
by the constitution. The clergy have preserved
their ecclesiastical courts. – Public instruction is
almost wholly in the hands of the clergy. The
state appropriates nearly half a million of dollars
for the support of the universities. Justice, civil
and criminal, is administered by a supreme court,
which sits at Lima; by courts of appeal in each.
of the chief towns of the departments; and by
the district Courts of first resort. The admin-
istration of the mines, the forests and the mili-
tary and naval services have special jurisdiction.
There is scarcely any industry, but a good deal
of commerce. The greater part of the foreign
trade is in the hands of French, English and
American merchants. As in all the rest of
America, it is England which holds the first rank,
as regards both imports and exports: France is.
only second. Her transactions amount to an
average of sixty million francs per annum, that is
to say, less than half those of England. — Since
the discovery of guano the merchant marine of
Peru has increased to a certain extent. In 1869 it
had ninety vessels, with a capacity of 9,596 tons.
The exports of 1867 amounted to $18,506,851;
while in 1866 they reached the sum of $40,511,291.
The principal article of export is still guano, of
which there was exported in 1870, 482,299 tons,
of a total value of 20,195,146 silver piastres.
According to statistics published in Lima in 1868,
the quantity of guano exported from 1842 to
1867 amounted to 7,157,194 tons, with a total
value of $218,693,625.— The soil of Peru is suit-
able for the cultivation of all tropical productions.
Since 1860, cotton and sugar cane have been cul-
tivated upon a very large scale, Chinese and free
blacks being employed in its cultivation. In 1860
the cotton crop was estimated at seventy millions
of dollars, the profits of which were forty-seven
millions.— Peru, which has already had the good
PETITION.
167
fortune to find in the sale of the guano three-
quarters of its revenue, has recently met with
further luck. Some explorations conducted in
1830 resulted in the discovery of vast beds of
nitrate of soda. The exportation of saltpetre in-
creased from 18,700 cwt. in 1830, to 699,406 in
1851, to 1,358,691 in 1861, and to 3,605,906 in
1871. — Of all the wealth with which nature has
endowed Peru, that least taken advantage of is
its mineral treasures. There are still near Puno
some very productive silver mines. From 1775
to 1824 these mines produced 1,786,000 marcs of
silver, of an average value of from eight to nine
dollars. Since the cessation of Spanish rule
these mines have declined very much in produc-
tive value, the greater part of them having been
abandoned for lack of capital and other means
of working them. The great cause of the decline
of the mining industry is the want of confidence
which the capitalists have in each of her This
distrust prevents the formation of mining associa-
tions upon a large scale, and it is only by the revi-
val of the great companies that Peru will be able
to resume, among the countries producing precious
metals, the place which belongs to her.” — BIBLI-
OGRAPHY. Besides the older works of Ulloa,
Helm, Breckenridge, Mathison, Hall, Stevenson,
Smith, Meyen and Pöppig, there are: Hill's Trav-
els in Peru and Mea'ico, 2 vols., London, 1860;
Grandidier, Voyage dans l’Amérique du Sud, Pérou,
et Bolivie ; Menendez, Manual de geographia ºy
statistica del Perú, Paris, 1861; Carrey, Le Pérou,
Paris, 1875; Raimondi, El Perú, Lima, 1874;
Desjardin, Le Pérou avant la conquété espagnole,
Paris, 1858; Prescott, History of the Conquest of
Peru, Boston, 1847, new edition, 1878; Pruvo-
mena, Memorias y documentos para la historia de la
*ndependencia del Perú, 2 vols., Paris, 1858; Odri-
Ozola, Memorias y documentos para la historia del
Perú, Lima, 1863–4 ; Paz-Soldan, Historia del
Perú independte, Lima, 1871; Arana, Histoire de
la guerre du Pacifique, 1881. Louis GOTTARD.
* Peru had a deficit, in 1876, of about $1,538,490. It has
(1883) a large public debt, divided into internal and external.
The internal liabilities are estimated at about $20,000,000. It
has, besides, a floating debt of an unknown amount, greatly
increased by large issues of paper money, made in 1879 and
1880, to carry on the war against Chili. The total of these
issues was estimated, at the end of October, 1880, at 35,000,000
soles. – The army of Peru was composed, at the end of 1878,
of eight battalions of infantry, numbering 5,600 men; of
three regiments of cavalry, numbering 1,200 men; of two
brigades of artillery, numbering 1,000 men; and of a gen-
darmerie, numbering 5,400 men. The number of men under
arms was raised nominally to 40,000 in May, 1879, after
the outbreak of hostilities against Chili, and further in-
creased to 70,000 in the summer of 1880, after the suc-
cessful invasion of the territory by the Chilians. At the
beginning of November, 1879, the Peruvian navy consisted
of four ironclads and six other steamers. In 1883, in conse-
quence of the war with Chili, it may be said that both the
army and navy of Peru have been completely destroyed. —
The foreign commerce of Peru is chiefly with Great Britain
and the United States. – In 1878 there were open for traffic,
or in course of construction, eleven railway lines belonging
to the state, 1,281 miles in length, and costing 128,354,600
soles. There were, besides, eight lines belonging to private
persons, 496 miles in length, and two lines belonging in part
to the state and in part to individuals.
PETITION (IN U. S. HISTORY). The first
amendment to the constitution prohibits congress
from making any law to abridge “the right of the
people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the
government for a redress of grievances.” The
right to petition congress is therefore not derived
from the constitution, but secured by it. Of
course the right to offer a petition implies the duty
of congress to receive it, without which the peti-
tion would lack its most essential element. Never-
theless, from 1835 until 1844, this duty of con-
gress was more or less strenuously denied by
southern members in the case of petitions for the
abolition of slavery and the slave trade in the
District of Columbia. — Feb. 11, 1790, a petition
was offered, signed by Franklin, as president of
the Pennsylvania abolition Society, praying for
the immediate prohibition of the African slave
trade. This prohibition could not constitutionally
be effected until 1808; nevertheless, after debate,
it was received and referred by a vote of 43 to 14.
Madison and other members urged “the commit-
ment of the petition as a matter of course,” so
that “no notice would be taken of it Out of
doors.” This purpose was accomplished then
and afterward; as long as petitions were received
and referred, the action of the petitioners there
ended. — Very few anti-slavery petitions were
offered for forty years, and those few were against
slavery in general. The only exception was the pe.
tition of Warner Mifflin in 1792, which was reject-
ed on the ground that it was not a petition, and
concluded with no specific prayer. This objection
would not lie against the new series of petitions
which were brought out by the agitation for im-
mediate abolition (see ABOLITION, II.) which be-
gan in 1830–31. These prayed that congress, to
which the constitution had given the exclusive
power of legislation for the District of Columbia,
would exercise it in prohibiting slavery therein.
At first, in December, 1831, when they were re-
ferred to the committee on the District of Colum-
bia, the committee reported formally that the
prayer of the petitioners should not be granted.
As the petitions became more numerous, the
committee ceased to report, and its room became
‘‘the lion’s den from which there were no foot-
prints to mark their return.” In February, 1835,
there were some complaints of this mode of pro-
cedure, and requests for a special committee, but
these were not heeded. The peace was not dis-
turbed until the following December. — PINCK-
NEY’s RESOLUTIONS. In December, 1835, the pe-
titions began to come in again, and the house of
representatives showed a new disposition toward
them by laying them on the table by overwhelm-
ing votes. This, however, was not enough.
Feb. 8, 1836, Henry L. Pinckney, of South Caro-
lina, moved for and obtained a suspension of the
rules to offer three resolutions : 1, that all the peti-
tions should be referred to a select committee, 2,
with instructions to report that congress could not
constitutionally interfere with slavery in the states,
and 3, ought not to do so in the district of Co-
168
PETITION.
lumbia. May 18 the committee reported as in-
structed, with an additional resolution that there-
after all petitions relating in any way to slavery
or its abolition should be laid on the table without
action, and without being printed or referred.
May 25 the previous question, cutting off debate,
was ordered by a vote of 109 to 89, and the Sec-
ond of Pinckney's resolutions, above mentioned,
was adopted by a vote of 182 to 9. John Quincy
Adams offered to prove it false in five minutes,
but was silenced. On the following day the third
resolution was adopted, 132 to 45, and the Com-
mittee’s new resolution, 117 to 68. Adams re-
fused to vote, denouncing the resolution as a
violation of the constitution, of the rules of the
house, and of the rights of his constituents. The
first of the “gag laws” was thus put in force.
It was renewed in substance, Jan. 18, 1837. —
Adams at once became the champion of the right
of petition. In the adoption of the rules at the
beginning of each congress, he regularly and
unsuccessfully moved to rescind the “gag rule.”
He became the funnel through which all the anti-
slavery petitions of the country were poured.
Within the next four years he records the offering
of nearly 2,000 petitions, including petitions for
the rescinding of the gag rule itself, for the recog-
nition of Hayti, for expunging the declaration of
independence from the journals, and for his own
expulsion. Besides those whose number he men-
tions, there was an unknown number of others
presented in batches. The most exciting scene of
the series began Feb. 6, 1837. Adams inquired
of the speaker whether it would be in order to
present a petition from twenty-two slaves. The
disorderly house, catching but a hazy notion of
the inquiry, at once lost its head. Suggestions to
expel Adams for having attempted to offer a pe-
tition from slaves, to censure him for contempt
of the house, and to take the petition out and
burn it, were becoming inextricably entangled,
when Adams for the first time reminded the
speaker that his inquiry as to the propriety of
offering the petition was still pending and unan-
swered, and stated also that the petition was in
favor of slavery. The house saw that it had been
outwitted, but it disliked to yield. “What, sir,”
said Waddy Thompson, of South Carolina, “is it
a mere trifle to hoax, to trifle with, the members
from the south in this way and on this subject?
Is it a light thing, for the amusement of others, to
irritate almost to madness the whole delegation
from the slave states? Sir, it is an aggravation.”
He therefore modified his resolutions into a cen-
sure of Adams for having “trifled with the
house,” “by creating the impression, and leaving
the house under such impression, that the said
petition was for the abolition of slavery, when
he knew that it was not.” By various amend-
ments this was finally modified into a tame reso-
lution that, since Adams had disclaimed any effort
to present the petition, nothing should be done,
and even this was rejected. But before the final
vote, Feb. 9, Adams secured his coveted oppor-
tunity for defense, and his savage retaliation upon
his opponents in general and in particular, inter-
rupted by explanations and half-hearted denials
from them, made up one of the few scenes in
congressional history, from 1820 until 1860, when
the cowing of an opposition was the result of a
northern member's speech. From this time de-
bate with Adams was the most perilous of under-
takings. – In the senate the objection to the re-
ception of abolition petitions had been almost
simultaneous. Jan. 7, 1836, Calhoun objected
to the reception of two petitions from Ohio
for the abolition of slavery in the District of
Columbia, and four days afterward he renewed it
upon a petition of Pennsylvania Quakers to the
same effect. But the senate was a dangerous place
for such an experiment. No “previous question”
could cut off debate; senator after senator drifted
off to the perilous questions involved in the institu-
tion of slavery itself; and the result was such a por-
tentous debate as had never yet been heard in the
senate. Calhoun’s point was, that if the petition
was couched in disrespectful language it could not
be received. But in this there was a cumulative
difficulty. To know the language of a petition it
was necessary that it should be read, and it would
always be difficult for southern senators to listen
quietly to petitions in which their constituents
and themselves were denounced as pirates, butch-
ers, and dealers in human flesh. King, of Georgia,
read Calhoun a bitter and well-deserved lecture
on this unstatesmanlike policy of provoking de-
bate on the petitions; and Calhoun could only
answer with the reproach that King was destroy-
ing southern unity of action. Calhoun’s course
is one of the few evidences of his lack of sincerity
in desiring the preservation of the Union. A
democratic northern senator likened him to a
pugnacious farmer in his state who was so anxious
for peace with his neighbors that he was always
willing to fight for it. In this instance Calhoun had
abundant opportunity to agitate for the suppres-
sion of agitation. It was not until March 9 that the
reception was agreed to by a vote of 36 to 10; and
two days after, “the prayer of the petition was
rejected ” by a vote of 34 to 6. This halting com-
promise between refusing to receive, and referring
to a committee, was thereafter the regular mode
of procedure in the senate. It had no effect in
checking the petitions, and renewed and constant
debate on their reception kept the senate in tur-
moil. In December, 1837, Clay urged their recep-
tion and reference, on the grounds that they were
evoked mainly by a feeling in the north, that tha
right of petition had been assailed, and that it was
“better that the country should be quiet than the
senate ”; but his advice met no more respectful
attention than the warning of Buchanan at the
beginning, “Ilet it be once understood that the
sacred right of petition and the cause of the
abolitionists must rise or must fall together, and
the consequences may be fatal.” — THE PATTON
RESOLUTION. Dec. 21, 1837, in the house, John
| M. Patton, of Virginia, secured a suspension of
PETITION.
169
the rules and the previous question, and the pas-
sage of a resolution to lay on the table, without
being debated, printed, read or referred, and with-
out further action, all petitions and papers touch-
ing the abolition of slavery, or the buying, sell-
ing or transferring of slaves in any state, district
“or territory” of the United States. Adams again
protested, and refused to vote, but the resolution
was passed by a vote of 122 to 74. — THE ATHER-
Ton RESOLUTIONs. Dec. 11, 1838, in the house,
Charles J. Atherton, of New Hampshire, obtained
a suspension of the rules, and offered five resolu-
tions.
attempts at the abolition of slavery in the District
of Columbia, or in the territories, and any peti-
tions for that object; the fifth resolved that all
such petitions should be laid on the table, “with-
out being printed, debated or referred.” Again,
the previous question cut off debate, and the res-
olutions were passod on this and the following
day, the last or “gag’’ resolution having in its
favor 126 votes to 73. The only apparent result
was the immediate appearance of a new line of
petitions for the repeal of the Atherton “settle-
ment.” — TWENTY-FIRST RULE. Jan. 21, 1840,
by a vote of 114 to 108, the house adopted as its
twenty-first rule, that no petition, memorial, reso-
lution, or other paper praying the abolition of
slavery in the District of Columbia or the terri-
tories, or of the interstate slave trade, should in
future be received by the house, or entertained in
any manner whatever. The decrease of the ma-
jority in favor of the repression principle in this
vote was striking, and was in itself an evidence
that the system could not endure very much longer.
Adams had found the support which he had at
first lacked, and his yearly recurring motions to
omit the twenty-first from the list of rules were
defeated by steadily dwindling majorities. The
rule, however, only increased the strength of
language of the petitions, and their number as
well: 34,000 signatures had been affixed to peti-
tions of this nature in 1835–6; 110,000 in the
session after the Pinckney resolutions; over 300,000
after the Patton resolutions; and after the twenty-
first rule was adopted the signatures to petitions
on all the cognate subjects were practically beyond
counting. Jan. 14, 1842, another exciting scene
began in the house, Adams being again the centre
of it. He offered a petition from citizens of
Haverhill, Massachusetts, praying for a dissolution
of the Union, and asked for its reference to a
committee to set forth reasons for the rejection of
the petition. The anger of the southern mem-
bers flamed out again. Suggestions were again
made to expel Adams, to censure him, or to burn
the petition. Adams at first only replied by ad-
vising his leading opponents to “go to a law
school, and learn a little of the rights of the
citizens and of the members of this house ’’; but,
when the house had voted, 118 to 75, to take into
consideration the resolutions of censure offered by
Thomas F. Marshall, of Kentucky, the spokesman
of the Southern caucus, the debate was adjourned
The first four condemned generally any
until Jan. 28. From that day it continued until
Feb. 7, with a virulence surpassing that of the
first. Adams had his opponents at a disadvantage,
for many of them were avowed disunionists, but
he used also every other advantage which could
be used. The character of the whole debate may
be conceived from Adams’ reference to Wise, of
Virginia, his bitterest opponent, as having come
into that hall from the Graves-Cilley duel, of
which he was a promoter, “with his hands drip-
ping with human gore, and a blotch of human
blood upon his face ’’; and from Wise's temperate
reply that “the charge was as base and black a
lie as the traitor was base and black who uttered
it.” At last Adams, worn out and almost breath-
less, but triumphant over every assailant, allowed
a motion to “lay the whole subject on the table
forever,” and it was carried by a vote of 106 to
93. — At the special session of 1841 Adams' regu-
lar motion fo omit the twenty-first rule had
actually been carried, by a vote of 112 to 104, on
a motion to adopt the rules of the last house for ten
days only; but this was afterward reconsidered and
lost. Session after session the majority against
Adams' motion dwindled. At last, Dec. 3, 1844,
the house, by a vote of 104 to 81, refused to lay
his motion on the table, and, by a vote of 108 to
80, abolished the twenty-first rule. The ten years'
gripe of John Quincy Adams upon the gag sys-
tem had choked it at last and forever. Thereafter
petitions of every nature were quietly relegated
to the limbo of such papers, the committee room.
—Dec. 12, 1853, the ancient rule requiring the
presentation of petitions in the house was re-
scinded. Since that time petitions have been
delivered to the clerk of the house, indorsed with
the name of the member presenting them and of
the committee to which they are to be referred.
The clerk then transfers them to the proper com-
mittees, and notes their presentation on the jour-
nal. — See 1 Benton's Debates of Congress, 201,
207; 13 ib., 24 (Pinckney resolutions), 13 ib., 266
(Adams' first trial: his speech is at page 283); 12
Żó., 705 (Calhoun’s motion); 13 ib., 566 (Patton
resolutions), 702 (Atherton resolutions); 14 ib., 289
(twenty-first rule); Jay's Miscellaneous Writings,
349; 2 Calhoun’s Works, 466; 9 Adams' Memoir
of J. Q. Adams, 350; 11 ib., 109; 61 Niles’ Regis-
ter, 350 (Adams' second trial); 14 Democratic
Review, 303 (the best argument in favor of the
twenty-first rule); 2 Benton's Thirty Years' View,
150; 1 Greeley’s American Conflict, 143; Giddings’
History of the Rebellion, 108, 158; 2 Wilson’s Rise
and Fall of the Slave Power, 346; 2 von Holst's
United States, 236, 470; Morse's Life of J. Q.
Adams, 249, 307; 18, 22, 38 Rules of the House of
Representatives. (Compare PETITION, RIGHT OF.)
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
PETITION, Right of. The constitution of
the United States, in its first amendment, provides
that “Congress shall make no law abridging the
right of the people peaceably to assemble and to
petition the government for a redress of griev-
170
PETITION.
ances.” This provision is not a statement of abstract
right based on theory, but, like almost all other
clauses in the great Anglo-Saxon charters, it had
its origin in the successful struggle against actual
tyranny. It is founded on English history, and
to understand it, it is necessary to glance at that
history. — The right of petition seems to be recog-
nized in magna charta, which was ratified by
King John in 1215. Chapter forty contains these
words: ‘‘Nulli megabimºus rectum aut justitiam,”
and they are repeated in the charters of Henry
III. (1216, chap. 29) and Edward I. (1297, chap.
29). Some petitions of this period are said to be
preserved in the tower of London. In the reign
of Charles I. petitions became bolder and bold-
er, notwithstanding the contemptuous treatment
which they received from him, and the right of
presenting them naturally grew to be obnoxious
to the cavaliers. Consequently, Soon after the
restoration of Charles II., parliament passed a bill
against tumultuous petitioning, which forbade the
presentation of petitions for the alteration of
matters established by law, to the king or either
house, by more than ten persons; nor could more
than twenty persons sign a petition, unless its con-
tents were previously approved by three justices
or a majority of the grand jury in the country, or
by the lord mayor, aldermen and common council
in London. The transgressor was liable to fine
and imprisonment. (13 Car. II., St. 1, c. 5; 8
Statutes at Large, p. 6.) This statute did not
have the desired result, and in 1679 so many
petitions were presented protesting against the
repeated prorogation of parliament, that the king
issued a proclamation to put a stop to them, but
still they continued to pour in. The advanced
royalists presented counter-addresses expressing
their abhorrence of these petitions. Hence, the
two national parties became known as “Petition-
ers” and “abhorrers,” although soon after they
were called “whigs” and ‘‘tories” instead.
(8 Hume's History of England, chap. 68.) It was
from James II., that, nine years later, the right of
petition received the severest blow in England.
He had made up his mind to restore his fellow
Catholics to the full rights of English subjects (and,
indeed, to give them the preference), in spite of
existing penal laws. To this end he found it
necessary to set aside the statutes by means of
what was called the “ dispensing power.” This
prerogative of dispensing with penal laws had
been assumed by the crown several centuries
before, and was originally copied from the practice
of the Roman church. It was an infringement of
law, and had met with resistance almost from the
beginning. In 1687 the king issued a declaration,
under this power, announcing that none of the
penal laws against non-conformists should be
enforced. This proclamation, which is known as
the ‘‘ declaration of indulgence,” produced no
effect. Accordingly, in 1688, he published a
second similar declaration, which was followed,
a week later, by an order in council commanding
the clergy to read the declaration on certain Sun-
days at the usual time of divine service in all the
churches of England, and bidding the bishops.
distribute copies of it for this object through-
out their dioceses. The clergy received the order
with doubt and dissatisfaction. Not only was.
it opposed to their wishes, but it was equally re-
pugnant to public opinion and the laws of the
realm. Before the day fixed for the first reading
a number of prominent divines met at Tambeth
and drew up a petition, which was finally re-
duced to writing by Lancroft, the archbishop of
Canterbury himself, and signed by him and six
bishops. In their petition they denied the exist-
ence of any power in the king to dispense with
acts of parliament; they expressed their willing-
ness to obey parliament or convocation; and
besought the king not to insist upon the distribu-
tion and reading of the declaration. The six
suffragan bishops delivered the petition to James.
on their knees, but he received it in a passion.
Although the declaration was not recalled, it was.
read in only four churches in London on the
day appointed, and from these churches the con-
gregations immediately departed in disgust. At
the king's order the seven prelates were sent to
the tower, and tried before the king's bench for
seditious libel. James used every means to se-
cure their conviction, but it was impossible to
turn the presentation of a respectful petition into
a criminal offense. The jury returned a verdict.
of “not guilty,” and the prisoners were released.
The whole nation learned the result of the trial
with joy, and the king's course in the matter called
down upon him the lasting enmity of the people,
and did much to shake off his tottering crown.
(12 Howell’s State Trials, 183; 3 Modern Reports,
212.) The prince of Orange referred to the case
of the seven bishops in the declaration which he
published before coming to England, when he
said that the oſtering of a petition had been held
a high misdemeanor, and that this was one of the
wrongs which he would redress. (2 Macaulay's
History of England, 358; Bishop Burnet's History
of his own Time, 775–780.) Afterward, when the
two houses offered the throne to William and
Mary, the offer and acceptance were made subject
to the bill of rights. This important document
recited the fact that James II. “ did endeavor to:
subject and extirpate the Protestant religion and
the laws and liberties of the kingdom,” among
other things, “by committing and prosecuting
divers worthy prelates for humbly petitioning to
be excused from concurring to the said assumed
[dispensing] power,” and it goes on to declare
“that it is the right of the subjects to petition
the king, and all commitments and prosecutions
for such petitioning are illegal.” (“An Act for
declaring the rights and liberties of the subject
and settling the succession of the Crown,” 1 Will-
iam and Mary, sess. 2, chap. 2; 9 Statutes at
Large, p. 67, 1688; 5 Cobbett's Parliamentary His-
tory, 108 et seq.) The act of 1700 which estab-
lished the succession of the crown in the house
of Hanover confirms all laws which Segure the
PETITION.
171
rights and, liberties of the people (12 and 13 Wm.
III., chap. 2; 10 Statutes at Large, 360), and the
bill of rights, protecting the right of petition, is
to-day a conspicuous part of the English consti-
tution. In the celebrated case of Lord George
Gordon (1781,) Lord Mansfield said that the stat.
ute of 13 Charles II., limiting the number of
petitioners, was still in force. The petition in
this instance was also directed against the Roman
Catholics. Lord George Gordon, president of
the protestant association, was displeased with
the passage of Sir George Savile’s bill removing
penalties from Romanists, and presented a peti-
tion in the house of commons for its repeal. It
bore thousands of signatures, and he went to the
house at the head of a large mob which he had
Collected. His followers attacked several mem-
bers and attempted to exert intimidation. The
motion was, however, almost unanimously re-
jected, and the rabble, after rioting Several days,
subsided. (21 Cobbett’s Parliamentary History,
654, et seq.) The ringleader was tried for high
treason and acquitted, though the act of 13
Charles II. could undoubtedly have been en-
forced against him. (21 Howell's State Trials,
485; 24 Annual Register, 217, 238.) About this
time petitions to parliament became very numer-
ous. Many of them were directed against the
slave trade, and afterward against slavery. At
last, in 1839, debate was forbidden on the pre-
sentation of petitions in the house of commons,
as they threatened to occupy all the time of the
house. The Inost illuportalit English petition of the
present century was the one of the chartists in
1848. These men, excited by the revolutions on
the continent, sent a petition to the lower house
for annual parliaments, universal suffrage, and
the other reforms contemplated in their “char-
ter.” More than a million names were append-
ed to the petition, and a mass meeting was called
in London to support it. The house received
it with respect, but it was soon discovered that
many of the signatures were fictitious, and that
their number had been greatly over-estimated.
The committee on public petitions, while re-
porting these facts, declared its opinion that the
right of petition was an important privilege.
(98 Hansard’s Parliamentary Debates, 74,283.)
The agitation soon died out without affecting
legislation. (1 McCarthy’s History of Our Own
Times, chap 18.) — Practice. In olden times peti-
tions were usually presented to the English mon-
arch, because he was more powerful than parlia-
ment. The contrary is now the case; but petitions
to the Sovereign, though less frequent than those
to the legislature, stand upon the same legal footing
with them. The sovereign sometimes receives peti-
tions personally, and sometimes through officers of
the court. Parliament used to appoint receivers
and triers of petitions, but now the house of com-
mons refers public petitions to a committee on pub-
lic petitions. (May's Law of Parliament, chap 19.)
—The amendment to the constitution of the United
States referring to petitions was modeled after
the clause in the English bill of rights. (See BILL
OF RIGHTS.) The constitution originally contained
no list of popular rights, as the general convention
considered such an enumeration unnecessary. In
the subsequent state conventions, on the other
hand, it became evident that a considerable party
desired such a “bill of rights.” Consequently,
in the first congress a series of amendments to
the constitution were adopted, including the one
quoted at the head of this article. The conven.
tion of Virginia had submitted a proposed section
on the right of petition, which also asserted the
right of constituents “to instruct their represent.
atives.” In the lower house, while the amend-
ments were under consideration, Mr. Tucker, of
South Carolina, moved that these words be added.
Mr. Madison opposed the motion, and it was lost.
(Towle's Analysis of the Constitution, 230, 231.)
There have been no petitions of very great histor-
ical interest in this country except those which
sought the abolition of slavery. (See, e.g., 2 Ben-
son’s Abridgment of the Debates of Congress, 57
et seq., 182 et seq., 209, 436–444; 12 ib., 660–666,
676–679, 705–711, 713–720, 722–743; 13 ib., 5–14,
24–29.) These petitions were very numerous, and
always drew forth most bitter debates. Finally,
in 1836, a resolution was adopted in the house of
representatives, which directed that all petitions
relating in any way to slavery should be laid upon
the table without being printed or referred, and
that no further action should be taken on them.
(13 ib., 24). In 1838 another rule of the same ten-
or was adopted. (13 ib., 702–707; Congressional
Globe, Dec. 17 and 24, 1838, vol. 7, nos. 2 and 3,
pp. 23–25, 27, 28, 33–38.) The former resolution
was based, according to its recitals, on the want
of power in congress over the states, the undesira-
bility of any exercise of power in the District of
Columbia, and the necessity of stopping agitation
and restoring tranquillity. The latter resolution
affirmed that all attempts to abolish slavery in the
territories or District of Columbia were virtually
aimed at the southern states, and therefore uncon-
stitutional in their tendencies. Fortunately, such
rules are no longer needed. — The national con-
stitution has been followed, as far as the right of
petition is concerned, in almost all of the state
constitutions. Only three states ignore the right
in their fundamental law : Minnesota, Virginia
and West Virginia. Eleven include the right of
“ petition, address and remonstrance ’’ in their
‘‘ bills of rights’’: Alabama, Connecticut, Ken-
tucky, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Tennessee,
Delaware, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Texas
and Vermont. Four recognize the right to “ap-
* See, for example, “Address to the People of Maryland,”
3 American Museum, 419, giving an account of the Mary-
land convention, very few members of which, it is true,
seemed to wish to have the right of petition mentioned in the
constitution; p. 424.
+ See ib., 273–278, 280–290, 557-562, for the attempt to cem-
sure John Quincy Adams for a breach of this resolution;
and notice, at p. 278, Mr. Cushing's able argument, show-
ing that the right of petition existed independent of the con-
stitution.
172
PETITION.
ply for the redress of grievances”: Illinois, Indi-
ana, North Carolina and Oregon. Two confirm
the right of “petition or remonstrance”: Maine
and Missouri; while all the rest copy the general
constitution more closely, and protect the right of
“ petition” simply.
tutions, 571.) — The supreme court of the United
States has recently passed upon the right of peti-
tion as affected by the constitution of the United
States. (United States vs. Cruikshank, 92 U. S.
Reports, 542.) Chief Justice Waite, in stating the
opinion of the court, says that the right to assemble
for lawful purposes existed long before the adop-
tion of the constitution. It is an attribute of free
government, springing from laws universally rec-
ognized by civilized man. The constitution did
not establish it, but found it in existence. Up to
that time the individual states were bound to pro-
tect it, and as the amendment granted no direct
power over it to congress, the right of petition
remains subject to the jurisdiction of the states.
The amendment recognizes an existing privilege
of the people, and guards it against congressional
interference only. For their protection in its
enjoyment the people must look to the states.
The court, however, holds that the right of peti-
tion appertains to national citizenship, and that on
this account it is guaranteed by the national gov-
ernment. It is implied in the very idea of a
republican form of government. (Ib., 551, 552.)
As petitions are legal, it follows that a petitioner
is not guilty of libel in his petition unless express
malice be proved. Therefore a petition to the
legislature, requesting that body to direct the
attorney general to do his duty, was decided not
to be actionable. The court held that a man can
petition the legislature for the redress of a griev-
ance which does not exist, if he thinks that it
exists. (Reid vs. Delorme, 1806, 2 Brevard's
Reports, South Carolina, 76.) So it was held in
New York that a petition for the removal of a
district attorney on account of malversation in
office, directed to the council of removal, and
followed by his removal, could not give rise to
a cause of action, unless it was presented mali-
ciously, even if it contained false statements.
(Thorn vs. Blanchard, 1809, 5 Johnson's Reports,
508, and see cases cited by counsel; see also Gray
vs. Pentland, 1815, 2 Sergeant & Rawle's Reports,
Pennsylvania, 23, and the very full opinion of the
court in Harris vs. Huntington, 1802, 2 Tyler's
Reports, Vermont, 129.) — In the United States
each legislative body has its own rules, which pre-
scribe the manner of offering petitions and the
disposition of them. We will give a short résumé
of the rules of the house of representatives on this
subject for an example. Members having peti-
tions to present may deliver them to the clerk,
after indorsing on them their names and the ref-
erence or disposition to be made of them. These
petitions, except such as in the speaker's judg-
ment are obscene or insulting, are entered in the
journal and published in the congressional record.
Petitions excluded by the speaker are returned to
(2 Hough's American Consti-
the member who presented them. If a petition
has been inappropriately referred, it may be
properly referred by direction of the committee
having possession of it. (Rule 22; see Smith’s
Rules and Practice of the House of Representa-
tives, latest edition.) No petition can be with-
drawn without the leave of the house, but if an
act pass for the settlement of a claim, the clerk
can send all the papers to the officer charged
with the settlement. (Rule 39.) Every petition
reported by a committee must be accompanied
by a written report, which report is thereupon
printed. (Rule 18, § 2.) After the final adjourn-
ment of congress the clerks of committees are
obliged to deliver all petitions, not reported, and
the evidence taken upon them, to the clerk of the
house. (Rule 38.) A petition can only be printed
by unanimous consent or suspension of the rules.
(Smith; supra, 5th ed., 314; this does not refer to
printing in the record.) A committee can not
receive a petition except through the house. (9
Grey, 412; Jefferson’s Manual, $8; Smith, supra,
105, 234.) All petitions for the satisfaction of
private claims against the government of the
United States are transmitted to the court of
claims, unless the house in which they are intro-
(U. S. Revised Statutes,
§ 1060.) Petitions must, of course, be presented
to the appropriate department of the government.
(Paschal's Annotated Constitution, 256, § 248.)*
—The right of petition seems to be so just, so
harmless, and so unquestionable, that its formal
recognition in our constitution may appear need-
less. Its justice, however, has not always been
admitted. In the case of the seven bishops we
have seen that James II. attempted to override it.
In ancient Persia we learn that petitions were dis-
couraged, for “whosoever, whether man or wo-
man, shall come unto the king into the inner
court, who is not called, there is one law of his to
put him to death, except such to whom the king
shall hold out the golden sceptre that he may live.”
(Esther, chap. 4, verse 11.) We have the author-
ity of Perry for the statement that Peter the
Great made a decree that no petition should be
presented to him until it had been offered to his
ministers, and by them rejected. If the petition
should then be presented to the czar, and fail to
secure his approval, the petitioner was to suffer
death. The result was, that no more petitions
were presented. (Etat de la Grande Russie, 173.)
From this account Montesquieu draws the con-
clusion that “in a monarchy the prince should be
accessible.” (Esprit des Lois, 12, 26.) It may
readily be seen that such instances prove the value
of the constitutional recognition of the right of pe-
tition, not only in monarchies but also in repub-
duced otherwise orders.
* (See also 1 Blackstone's Commentaries, 143; Story on
the Constitution, § 1894; Cooley's Constitutional Limitations,
349; 1 May's Constitutional History, chap. 7, pp. 410–417;
Whipple's Report to the Legislature of Rhode Island, and
Otis' Letter, published in pamphlet form, by Cassady &
March, Boston, 1839; Broom's Constitutional Law, 408 et
seq., 493 et seq., 508 et seq.)
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
173
lics. The right is most useful as a safety-valve for
the people, and such a safety-valve is especially
necessary where the people govern. The chartist
petition did much to quiet the petitioners and
those who sympathized with them. Public peti-
tions awaken the attention of men, keep ideas
alive, countenance those who wish to act, and
show public opinion. (Lieber on Civil Liberty
and Self-Government, 3d ed., chap. 12, p. 121 et
Seq.) In these ways they have a positive power.
In the debate on the extension of the time of the
income tax in 1853, Lord Brougham told the
house of lords how the old income tax law was
repealed. “How did the opponents of the tax
conduct the campaign in 1816? By means of
petitions.” He proceeds to show that for five or
six weeks, from four o’clock in the afternoon till
two or three o’clock in the morning, petition after
petition was presented and debated. (128 Han-
Sard's Parliamentary Debates, 798.) In England
petitions brought about the abolition of slavery,
the emancipation of the Roman Catholics, and
the repeal of the corn law. Of course the right
of petition may be abused. The legislature
should be free, and threatening crowds of petition-
ers destroy this freedom, as was frequently the case
during the French Revolution. Again, petitions
should be respectful. The Kentish petitioners in
1701 were imprisoned on the ground that their
petition was insolent and seditious. (5 Cobbett’s
Parliamentary History, 1250 et seq.) Stockdale's
petition was rejected by the house of commons
in 1840, because it was insulting. The abuses to
which the right of petition is liable are by no
means enough to affect its value seriously. The
statute of Charles II. was designed to prevent the
disorders which petitions produced, and it is now
unnecessary to enforce it. Such disorders are
discountenanced by the constitution of the United
States, which recognizes only the right “peace-
ably to assemble and to petition.” (Rawle on the
Constitution,124.) The first amendment has been
Solemnly criticised because it “savors of the style
of Condescension, in which favors are supposed
to be granted.” (1 Tucker's Blackstone, Appen-
dix, 299.) This criticism may account for the
word “remonstrance” in many of the state con-
stitutions (supra), but it can have but little
weight with those who regard substance rather
than language. — In France the constitution of
1791 included the right of petition among natural
rights, specifying it as la liberté d'adresser awa, au-
torités constitués des petitions signées individuelle-
'ment. Although this section required every peti-
tion to be signed by the actual name of the
signer, yet the assembly and convention often con-
sidered petitions signed by assumed titles, such
as “the people,” etc. The constitution of 1793
again preserved this right, pointing out the tri-
bunat as the most appropriate recipient of peti-
tions, and in 1799 the same privilege was reaf-
firmed. (Constitution of 1799, art. 83.) Under
the first empire and the constitutions of 1815
and 1830 we find the right of petition protected.
Many petitions were presented to the constituent
assembly of 1848. During the second empire
they could be addressed to the senate only. The
constitution of 1870 allowed petitions to be pre-
sented to the corps législatif. (2 Block's Diction-
načre de la Politique, 555, tit. Pétition.) — In
Prussia, Frederick the Great was accustomed to
receive petitions himself. In the early part of
this century a decree was published forbidding
the thrusting of petitions personally upon the
king. The Prussian constitution of 1850 recog-
nizes the right of petition (articles 23 and 32);
and in fact all Germany, as well as the other
constitutional countries of Europe, admits its
existence. (8 Bluntschli & Brater's Deutsches
Staats-Wörterbuch, 67, tit. Petitionsrecht : 3 Holt-
Zendorff's Rechtsleavicom, 40, same tit. See, for ex-
ample, Constitution of Belgium, 1831, article 21,
and Constitution of Switzerland, 1848, article 47.)
Even in Russia the emperor Nicholas was often
addressed personally by petitioners. (Lieber,
supra.) Huc states that the right prevails in
China. He records a case in which the inhabit-
ants of a Chinese town secured the removal of
an obnoxious prefect by means of a popular meet-
ing and a petition to the viceroy. He adds that
such incidents are not infrequent in that empire.
(2 Travels through China, chap. 3, pp. 77–80.)
ERNEST HOWARD CROSBY.
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW. 1. What the Phº-
losophy of Law means; its Task. The mind of the
jurist and the mind of the philosopher demand a
philosophical consideration of the law. Both to
the jurist and the philosopher the inquiries with
which the philosophy of law concerns itself are
altogether indispensable, if they would deeply and
exhaustively understand their respective sciences.
The student of law can not avoid the task of render-
ing account to himself of some of the highest princi-
ples of his science, of their foundation and con-
nections, which his own science is unable to ex-
plain. Not only the statesman, the legislator and
the teacher of law, but also the judge and the
lawyer, in their respective spheres, find innumera-
ble occasions for testing either whole institutes or
single points of positive law, in their legitimacy
and the essential reason of their validity; occasions
for seeking to interpret them, and according to the
result of that interpretation to endeavor either to re-
tain or to alter them. The jurist is thus frequently
compelled to seek for principles of law; but to
search after principles, is to philosophize. — On
the other hand, the philosopher is compelled to
test his general, theoretical principles by the ma-
terials of existing law. Among all enlightened
nations he finds the state the grandest reflex of
the human mind in history. In all human com-
munities he meets with the idea of law, as an
essentially human idea, in various stages of de-
velopment, from its most refined down to its
most simple and only half-conscious beginnings.
In his system, therefore, the philosopher must
take this important phenomenon into careful con-
174
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
sideration. The philosophy of law is, accord-
ingly, the systematic science of the principles of
law. From the philosophical point of view, it
assumes the task of inquiring into the necessary
origin of the idea of law in the human mind, and
into its relation to other forces and creations in
the life of man. The philosophy of law is called
upon to assign to law its true position in the cos-
mos of intellect. From the legal point of view
the philosophy of law should endeavor to apply
the highest principles concerning the nature of
law and the state, obtained through philosophical
reflection and historical investigation, and seek to
incorporate them into the existing materials of all
legislation. — 2. Outlines of the History of the De-
velopment of the Philosophy of Law. As a matter
of course, there can be a philosophy of law
only where the principles of law, as such, have at
least begun to detach themselves from the precepts
of religion and from the dictates of morals.
Hence, in the present sketch of the process of
development of that philosophy, we may regard
as a preliminary stage (and therefore completely
overlook) all that which, in ancient history, ap-
pears as religious revelation, legend, custom and
poetry; although such traditions otherwise consti-
tute important material for the investigation of
national character, and of the chief outlines of
the primitive human conceptions of law. —We
meet with a true philosophy of law first among
the Hellenes, for they at least began to detach
law from ethics and religion, although they were
far from completing the task of that separation.
In this, however, as in many other things, they
form the transition from, or connecting link be-
tween, the east and the west. In judging the
organization of the Grecian state, and the Greek
doctrine of the state, we must not forget this
middle position of the Hellenes. Compared with
theocratic and patriarchal despotism, thcy had
made notable progress; but the Greeks must be
said to have lived in very close bondage, when
we compare them with the Roman Civis, not to
say with the citizens of modern states. For the
Hellenic state was absolute, and all excellence,
all dºperſ), was excellent only in so far as it was
subservient to the state, and became a ſtoltzz7(7)
dºper). It was not so much that the state in-
terfered in almost everything, but rather that
everything was absorbed in the state. Religion
was the state's religion, and any one who an-
nounced new gods had to drain the fatal cup.
The family was only a means to the ends of the
state. The state might prevent trade and traffic
with foreign countries, and fetter the free activ-
ity of the economy of individuals; it acknowl-
edged no society but itself. That state was only
the logical consequence of the same political idea
which prescribed to music its melodies, to instru-
ments their tunes, and even Ventured to forbid
the Hellenes to read Homer. This political idea
was not only oppressive to, but it actually de-
stroyed, the family, by authorizing the commun-
ity of women and children, and the selection of
the parties to be united as man and wife by the
public magistrates. – This entire conception of
the state was possible only because of the very
limited territorial extent of the Hellenic states
themselves. The Hellenic state was the city
(ſtdºlts). The whole government easily assumed
a narrow, police character, interfering in almost
everything. Even Aristotle, although he ex-
pressly warned the Greeks against the danger
of their petty state system, entertained, in this
respect, so narrow a view, that he actually re-
quired that all the citizens of the state should
be personally acquainted with one another. But,
even in small “city-states” of this kind, the abso-
lute absorption of the individual by the state was
possible only so long as the old Hellenic spirit
maintained itself; when the subject, without
thought, submitted himself to the substantial em-
bodiment of the national spirit, as traditionally
expressed and represented in religion, customs
and the state, and thus submitted himself with a
feeling that things could not be otherwise. — Yet
this old Hellenic spirit began very early to die
out. After the first Persian war the dissolution
of the old relation of absorption of the individual
by the state accompanied the enlargement of the
horizon of the popular mind and the increase of
national culture. This was a natural, necessary,
and in many respects a wholesome, movement.
The transition to reflection in this instance was,
as it is always and everywhere, the condition pre-
cedent of a higher mental development; and if
the Athenians had never abandoned the point of
view of the “Marathonites,” the highest which
they attained in science, in art and in the state,
would have remained unachieved. But it can not
be denied that the negative, dissolving and dis-
integrating effects that accompany all thought, or
rather reflection, soon became very prominently,
very sharply and very one-sidedly perceptible
among the Greeks. To overcome effects of this
kind requires at all times the most intense and
continuous effort of all human energies. It ac-
cordingly can not be denied, that the Hellenic
national character did not bear its emancipation
from the old strict observance of faith and cus-
tom without rapid demoralization: a fact which is
connected with the exceedingly rapid course of
the whole history of Greece from its earliest be-
ginning until its final decay. — The period of the
Sophists is, properly speaking, the time when
awakened thought presumed to question, to in-
vestigate, to doubt, and even to pull down every-
thing that was customary in religion or morals, in
law or in the organization of the state. To the
Hellenes this epoch had nearly the same meaning
that the “period of enlightenment * of the past
century had to France and Germany. In many
things it was injurious; in some, useful; but in all,
necessary. At this period Hellenic thought, in
spite of all its traditions, was not satisfied with
the belief that things could not be otherwise than
they were. The Greek philosophers asked them-
selves whether right and wrong were settled for
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
175
all time by nature; or, whether they were only
provisions changeable at the caprice of men.
They inquired whether those ideas were qxºdel or
Sé681, and ever afterward this controversy ran
through the entire Hellenic-Roman philosophy.
But it is a characteristic fact, that the Hellenes,
face to face with this first problem, should have
thrown together ethics and law. The right, the
good, the law (tò d'ya Sov, 6 vºuc5)—concerning
which they inquired whether it existed Sé681 or
-q×3681—was with them not only the law of legal
right, but also the law of morality. The conser-
vatives maintained the eternal inviolability of the
law of legal right and of the law of morality, as
an ordinance of the gods and of nature; but the
sophists, armed with the subtlety and culture of
the more modern time, pointed to the fact that
the law of morality and the law of legal right
are by no means always the same, but may be very
contradictory in Lillie and space. — The Sophists,
however, did not understand that the idea of legal
right or law exists with all nations; that the cre-
sation of forms of law or legal right is rooted in
the nature of man, and that only the forms in
which this idea appears, may be different and
even contradictory, according to national charac-
ter, and to natural conditions and the conditions
of the time. The sophists, because they saw un-
certain, changeable forms of law, rejected the
whole idea of legal right and of the good. They
maintained that every nation, every epoch, as well
:as every individual, from motives of caprice or
interest, might prescribe to itself or himself what
it or he should consider lawful or unlawful, and
might act accordingly. In this manner subject-
ivity finally passed all bounds. Although at the
beginning the more moderate among the sophists
(Prodikos, Protagoras) erected fresh barriers; sub-
sequently the majority (like Gorgias, Hippias)
both theoretically and practically followed out to
the last consequences this anarchical doctrine. It
has been justly observed that even Socrates, as
the representative of the right of free investiga-
tion into all traditional institutions, stood on en-
tirely the same ground as the sophists. But he
differed from the latter, in that he subordinated
the freedom of the individual to the purposes of
the good, and wished that thought should not be
employed for the purpose of demolition, but for
the attainment of the knowledge and the vol-
untary observance of the law of morality. —In
judging the philosophy of the state of both the
great pupils of Socrates, Plato and Aristotle, we
must take into account the influence of the Greek
political situation, and of the general condition of
Greek civilization at the time. That process of
disintegration, the dissolution of the old system
of ethics, through unrestrained skeptical thought,
was making alarmingly rapid progress. In a
political respect this degeneracy manifested itself
in an unbridled ochlocracy, as in Athens; or in a
malevolent tyranny, as in Sicily and the other
islands. All earnest, thinking men, in all the
Hellenic cities, had long since turned away with
loathing from the turbulent democracy, and sought
Support and assistance in the strict Doric polit-
ical and moral system, with its aristocratic ideals.
We must keep in view this partiality for the Doric
political ideal, which had been partly realized
in the state of Lycurgus, in order to understand
how Plato could reach the otherwise unintelligi-
ble extremes of his philosophy of the state. In
the Second place, we must take into account the
peculiar tendency to abstract theoretical construc-
tion that characterized the whole Hellenic national
character, and most materially all Hellenic specu-
lation. This explains why Plato could admit, as
the principle of his doctrine of the state and of
law, the same idea which forms the basis of his
psychology and of his analysis of the individual
man. Hence, the well-known simile by which he
illustrated his own psychology : As the charioteer
guides his two-in-hand, the reason (voijs) must
control, and keep in harmony the two halves of
the human soul, the masculine, courageous, and
the feminine, appetitive halves. And what is
true of the individual man, is true of men as a
whole, as they appear in the state. This whole
Only represents man. On a larger scale, as one ani-
mated organic being, endowed with but one body
and one soul. In other words, the three parts of
the human mind, the feminine soul, the mascu-
line Soul and reason, reveal themselves in the
state as three classes or estates—the class of trades-
men, that of the warriors, and that of the wise
men. The best form of government, to wit, aris-
tocracy, consists in the Supremacy of the wise
men, the passive obedience of tradesmen, and the
active obedience of the warrior class. Every indi-
vidual should belong completely to one of these
Orders, and be entirely absorbed in it. All private
interests are destroyed by the state's distributing
wives, children and goods among the citizens.
The state controls the whole education of the
people, even in the Smallest details, and continues
to educate even adult individuals. It prescribes
the tunes of the lyre, forbids the songs of Homer,
as being too passionate, and interdicts all imitative
arts, such as painting, sculpture and the drama.
The most gifted among the warriors after a long
training may rise to the class of the wise men;
but the caste of tradesmen, after ministering to the
wants of the higher orders, as the adamant founda-
tion, of the state, must remain imbedded in the
ground. The slaves, so indispensable to the ancient
state, and all bodily defective children, must be de-
graded into that caste. In his later work, the twelve
books on the laws, having seen the impracticability
of his ideal state, Plato modified his extreme no-
tions concerning the community of women and
goods, and proposed a constitution, half way be-
tween oligarchy and democracy, in which the
laws themselves should rule, instead of his ideal
rulers, the order of wise men. — In Aristotle we
find a marked progress both in the methods and
the contents of the doctrine of the state. This
philosopher gave his doctrine of the state a broad
historico-juristic basis, by collecting data relating
176
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
to the constitutions of no fewer than 158 different
states, and critically sifting the materials in a
work that has unfortunately been lost. As re-
gards the substance of his doctrine, his greatest
merit seems to lie in his conception of man, as
a Côov tolvr12tóv, a political animal, a being
by nature necessarily impelled to form states.
It is not with Aristotle as with Plato, and
most of the other Greek, Roman and Christian
philosophers, purely external urgency and help-
lessness that impel man to form the state, but his
very nature. The ideal basis of the state, side by
side with the real, was first proved by Aristotle;
yet without his distorting that ideal in either a
theocratic or transcendental sense. — The collapse
of all intellectual life in Greece, and principally
of the life of the state, was soon reflected in the
prevailing philosophical systems, and in the neg-
lect of political life, with which the Greeks had
formerly been so closely identified. The sen-
sualist-material tendency of the Cyrenian School
was continued in the Epicurean Sect, which neg-
lected the state. The rising school of the stoics,
also, which in many respects bore a resemblance
to the earlier school of cynics, no longer regarded
the state from the point of view of the national
state, which had represented the healthy point
of view peculiar to the life of antiquity. The
pantheism of this doctrine accorded a marked
prominence to the subject, and led to the hypoth-
esis of a grand whole, which embraced all indi-
viduals in a community of the cosmos. Men
must live conformably to the law of nature
(natura, convenienter wivere—a maxim on which
was subsequently based the so-called jus naturaº,
or law of nature, which accordingly had a physico-
ethical, not juridical, starting-point). Nature is
supposed to impel all men, even all beings, that
have any share in the cosmic soul, consequently
the gods, into one great community; and any one
who, in regard to this whole, conducts himself
properly, is just. The justice of men among
themselves is moral-politico-juridical; that of men
toward the gods consists in piety. As in the
cosmos, the world-soul, so in the state the “state-
soul,” moves, contains and controls everything;
but this soul of the state is the law. —As is known,
the teachings of the stoics became, later, the fa-
vorite doctrine of Rome, when it had gained the
empire of the world; and precisely as the RQman
empire finally dissolved all nationalities, even its
own, into one universal state, so also the political
doctrines of the stoic philosophy were cosmopol-
itan, and no longer national-political. — These
stoical conceptions, mingled with Christian ele-
ments, exerted their influence far into the mid-
dle ages. The “Civitas Dei" of St. Augustine,
who himself had received a stoical training,
has many traits of the stoical to A15 21165. —
There was once a lively controversy as to whether,
and how far, the stoical School had exercised an
influence on Roman law; but in our present state
of knowledge, and with our deeper historical in-
sight into both the stoical philosophy and Roman
law, such a question can no longer be raised. A
school of French jurists (Cujacius), with the laud-
able intent of entering into the whole mental
life of the Romans, was the first to seek an ex-
planation of their law in its relation to the sto-
ical School; and, Strange to Say, these jurists sup-
posed they discovered a material influence of that
philosophical system on the Roman law. But
we now know that that law was only the outcome
and development of the peculiar popular life,
and of the peculiar talent, of the Romans. Its
chief excellence consisted precisely in its repug-
nance to all the doctrinarian wisdom of the
schools and in its thoroughly practical wisdom.
It would never have occurred to a Roman jurist
to allow any kind of philosophy to exercise any
influence on the matter of his real juridical ideas.
There certainly are to be found many stoical ele-
ments in the corpus juris, but only in its general
definitions, in its erudition, in its ethical maxims.
But those philosophical opinions remained com-
pletely without influence on the life and develop-
ment of the institutes of the Roman law. In the
same manner as the Romans, in a purely outward
manner, appropriated to themselves all Greek
culture, so, too, they introduced into Italy, Greek
philosophy and political theories, yet without any
real appropriation of them, and without any fur-
ther development of any one of them, just as
they erected the pillaged statues of the temple on
the capitol, often bringing them, without much
discernment, into an enforced contact with their
own national institutions, heedless whether they
harmonized well or badly with the latter. Now,
the stoic definitions were very poorly adapted to
the matter of Roman law, and we may confidently
assert that what in the corpus juris is juridical is
not stoic, and what is stoic is not juridical. —
The Romans, accordingly, had no philosophy of
law, in the proper sense of the term. Their so-
called philosophers, particularly Cicero, learned
philosophy from the Greeks, as one learns a foreign
language, without changing it, or working it into
the elements of Roman law. And yet, as it were,
an unconscious philosophy of law, such as never
afterward was attained to, seems to pervade the
labors of the Roman jurisprudents. The eminent
talent of the Roman mind for law is not only
displayed in the acute formulation of juridical
ideas, in the subtle distinctions of these ideas, or
in the admirable conclusions it draws from them,
in their algebra of juridical ideas, but the instinct
for the deepest intelligence of the essence of law
is still more luminously revealed throughout the
whole development of it by the Romans, in the
praetorial edict and in the jurisprudentes. The
characteristic traits that make the Romans em-
phatically the juridical nation of history, were
the above, and the gradual, slow transformation
of the old, obsolete forms of law, according to
the wants and the social progress of the time, as
well as their efforts to do justice to all that was
new, but with the utmost leniency toward the
old. The incessant mental labor of the Roman
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
177
jurisprudents for centuries, by degrees smoothed
down the rigid, specifically Roman, harshness of
their law, and in connection with the growing uni-
versal culture of their empire, changed it into a jus
gentium in the highest sense of the term, that is,
into a law that in many things has promulgated
lasting juridical truths, particularly in the law on
obligations, or contracts, and in the general theory
of the law. But it must not be forgotten, that,
to effect this, that specific juridical talent, which
itself was incontestably Roman, was required.
Only the Romans were able to develop their
Roman law into universal law. Their law, like
Christianity, conquered the world, and together
with the whole culture of antiquity, and as a
fragment of that culture, it legitimately passed
into mediaeval and modern culture; yet legiti-
mately only in as far as even that fragment of
ancient culture could be assimilated with pro-
priety to our life. We shall return below to this
subject. — To the Hellenic philosophy and the
Roman law were now added, as influential ele-
ments in the history of ethical, political and
juridical ideas, the ideas of Christianity. The
influence of these on the philosophy of law was
decidedly unfavorable in the beginning. It en-
hanced the fundamental vice of that philosophy
in the extreme: the amalgamation of law and
morality, the preponderance of the internal and
the moral over the external and really juridical.
We have called attention above to the fact, that,
as a matter of course, there can be, in principle,
no opposition or contradiction between ethics and
law, both being forms of one same force; but we
have also called attention to the fact, that, spite
of their close connection, there is a very decided
difference between law and ethics, the oblitera-
tion of which operates unfavorably in the highest
degree on both. When the domain of inner free-
dom and of morality is occupied by the law,
when religious and moral precepts are understood
or conceived in a juridical sense, then religious
and moral truth perishes, and untrue and un-free
formal holiness and apparent morality take its
place. This history has demonstrated in all those
cases in which the state or other external power
has sought to command and enforce faith, relig-
iousness or morality by coercive measures. In
this domain of the free, inner life of the soul, only
forms, formulas and appearance can be com-
manded. When, on the other hand, law is con-
founded with ethics, when religion and morality
seek to rule the state and dictate codes of law, we
see come into existence those abortive systems
which would paralyze man’s highest activity, his
participation in the life of the state, and substi-
tute fanaticism and hypocrisy for healthy action
and open force. Unmanly, untrue and unhealthy
organization is to be found wherever it is at-
tempted to replace the state and the law by
religion and morals. Here, too, the only healthy
and normal course is to separate what is different.
— The history of the philosophy of law, however,
shows that it was only late that men learned to
131 VOL. III. — 12
keep morality separate from law. Among the
Hellenes we find the clearest contradiction be-
tween their theory and practice; both their theory
and practice confounded ethics and law; but
while in its practical life the state absorbed
morality, prescribed ethico-religious rules or laws,
and scarcely endured any free individual life, the
science of the law and of the state was entirely
ethical. It has been rightly remarked that the
Hellenic vocabulary has no word for law in the
sense of the Roman jus, but couples ethico-relig-
ious notions with the words Séut 5, 61%atogºv m,
véu 8615, etc.; and we have seen how, from
Pythagoras to Aristotle, the pedagogical pre-
ponderated in the state, and the moral in the
idea of the law. Among the Romans the life
of the law was free and richly developed, but
they had no philosophy of law. Their jurists
avoided general definitions even in positive law.—
Christian ideas at the outset evinced a strong
disinclination toward the state, which was still
heathen and corrupt. The kingdom of the
Christian was not of this world. The true home
of the Christian was not this earth, corrupted
through the fall of man, but in the world beyond.
Above all, he had to save his soul, by piety
and faith, and only to concern himself with the
state when it was unavoidable. As is known,
the Christians of the first centuries expected the
speedy end of the world, and carefully avoided, as
far as possible, any contact with the heathen and
sinful life of the state. Religious morality, with
them, overruling every other motive, stepped
into the foreground, while the state was but a
secondary concern, or was considered only as a
necessary evil. If human nature had not been
corrupted through the fall, there would have been
neither murder nor homicide, nor quarrels con-
cerning mine and thine, and consequently no need
of the state or of the law. Sin was introduced by
the devil; along with, or at least on account of,
sin, the state and the law had also entered into this
world; in paradise there was neither king nor
judge. With this sinful world, with the devil,
the state and the law were to disappear, for they
will not be required in heaven. The lea, tem-
poralis contains, of just and legal, only what it
borrowed from the lea, alterna. — Such was the
teaching of St. Augustine, and his doctrine was
only logical. The ancient wisdom of the Stagi-
rite had taught, that man by his ideal nature was
drawn toward the state; that the latter was not a
necessary evil, but a necessary good; but now
Christianity had reached the very opposite con-
clusion. This world-shunning view, neglectful of
the state and of the law, governed the entire
Christian philosophy. The scholastic philosophy
confused law and ethics in this, that, according
to the former, the just man (the Ötztałog of the
Bible) was only the person who, through the re-
demption, had been rescued from sin. Scholasti-
cism over and again called to mind how man,
so long as his nature had not been corrupted by
the devil, neither knew nor needed the law or the
178
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
state: and further, that all law ought to be reduced
to religious morality and the ten commandments.
The different philosophers and their parties only
diverged from one another in this, that some among
them ascribed man’s knowledge of these princi-
ples to divine revelation, while others ascribed it
rather to the natural reason of man. Scholasti-
cism further made frequent attempts to distin-
guish the lea, divina (the moral and religious law
of the Mosaic-Christian revelation) from the lea,
maturalis (the voice of moral, juridical commands,
dwelling even in the heart of the heathen: thus
particularly the tolerant and liberal Abelard).
But this whole intellectual tendency, which at-
tained its latest expression in Thomas. Aquinas
(1225–74), has in common a disregarding of the
state and of the law, and the coloring of both by
religious morals. – Considering the historical con-
ditions of the middle ages, this idea naturally led
to the complete supremacy of the church over
the state, in its quality of representative of re-
ligious morals. But the opposition to this idea
was preparing, during the time that the state,
with increasing success, began to struggle for its
emancipation from the church, by the aid of sci-
ence, no longer exclusively confined to the clergy,
but pursued by laymen as well, and particularly
by the aid of the revival of ancient culture and
the knowledge of Roman law. The struggles of
the Hohenstaufens against the papacy may appa-
rently have ended in the subjugation of the secu-
lar power; but in many individuals it had at least
aroused a doubt concerning the legitimateness of
ecclesiastical Supremacy. The increasing power
of the opposition against the religious-moral ab-
sorption of the state and the law, was not the
work of philosophers, nor the outcome of theo-
retical reasons, but was owing to the efforts of
statesmen and party writers, and to the practical
wants and aspirations of the period. These men
at first opposed these principles on account of
their practical consequences. Dante and Occam,
the brave political adherents of the emperors
Henry of Luxemburg and Louis of Bavaria,
were the men who first successfully, for prac-
tico-political reasons, attacked the Supremacy of
the pope over the secular powers, and the whole
theory. On which that Supremacy was based; but,
as a matter of course, they did this in com-
plete conformity with the dogmas of the church.
Two hundred years later, Niccolo Machiavelli
(1469–1527) submitted, with reckless knavery,
morality to political ends. In his ardent wish
to see Italy freed from the numerous small
despots and their feuds, he called for an abso-
lute dictatorship, which by any, even by immoral
means, as violence and fraud, might carry out the
political behests of the times. Yet all this is suf-
ficiently explained by the historical conditions, by
the times of the Borgias and the Medicis, as also
by that peculiar talent of the Neo-Latin nations,
particularly of the Italians, which prompts them
to follow up the suggestions of any ardent passion
to the end.
At the same time it was an equally
extreme reaction against the subjugation of the
State and of the law by the religious morals of
the church. The emancipation of the state was
carried to the point of ignoring all ethical laws,
and of . Sacrificing morality to purely political
ends; yet the motives here again were practico-
political: the wounds of torn Italy and the neces-
sity of healing them. Machiavelli belonged to
the period of the reformation, that amidst vio-
lent convulsions completed the movement which
began at the close of the thirteenth and con-
tinued through the fourteenth and fifteenth cent-
uries; the movement which, in principle and for-
ever, did away with the scholastic idea of the
state and of the law, and of their relations to
morality and the church. — And here, again, the
men who achieved these results were not philoso-
phers of the Schools, armed with theories; on the
contrary, these results were the necessary outcome
of the gigantic strife of the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries, which in Germany, England,
Switzerland and Franceled to radical changes in the
organization of church and state. Once more the
practico-political movements of history created the
necessity of not abiding by old, traditional ideas,
but of seeking a different solution of a number
of important problems, touching the relations of
church and state, of law and religion, of the free-
dom of private life, the rights of public life, and
the rights of citizens in relation to their gov-
ernments. Men insisted on examining for them-
selves into these problems, in order possibly to
attain higher results. Such were the great ques-
tions of the period, which aroused so many pow-
erful minds in Germany and in the Low Coun-
tries, in England, in France, and even in Italy
and Spain. In this manner the 150 years that
followed the first efforts of the reformers, until
the last vanishing traces of the thirty years' war,
displayed an extraordinary wealth of political and
juridico-philosophical literature, both in the form
of long-winded systems and of short polemical
writings and pamphlets. – The reformers them-
selves, even Luther and Melancthon, knew hardly
anything of the philosophy of law, in the proper
sense of the term. In ethics, also, they still
maintained the traditional ideas concerning the
lea, divina, maturalis and positiva. There, never-
theless, were a few of the friends and pupils of
the reformers, who, both in theory and in their
practical deductions, boldly broke away from
their teachers, and followed the spirit of the times.
Such was Hubert Languet (1518–81), who in the
interest of freedom of conscience openly advo-
cated popular sovereignty. The same was also
done by his contemporaries, Hotomanus in France,
and George Buchanan in Scotland. Melanc.
thon’s pupil, Hemming, more deliberately than
his teacher, severed all connection with the doc-
trine of the middle ages. Yet, along with all this,
there were many stationary men among the adhe-
rents of the reformation, who, in the field of
juridical philosophy, retained unchanged the old
views, as did Oldridorp. The revival, and at that
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
179
time flourishing condition, of Graeco-Roman phi-
lology caused the students and patrons of it to
show a decided inclination for the political ideas
of antiquity. The Frenchmen Hotomanus, Bodi-
nus, Charron (1541–1603), Gassendi (1592–1655);
the Englishmen More and Sidney; the Italian
Piccolomini (1604), and others, with but few
Christian modifications, renewed the doctrines of
the old Hellenic and Roman philosophy. It would
be unfair to maintain that in all this there was
nothing more than the harmless whims of unprac-
tical scholars. It must not beforgotten that More
and Sidney died for their convictions. Their
theories concerning the importance and dignity of
the state contrasted strikingly with the mediaeval
theocratic ideas; and in this respect they certainly
represented the spirit of modern times. But the
old point of view was at the same time vehemently
defended by the school of the Jesuits. The con-
version of heretics was their main task. Domin-
icus de Soto, Fernando Vasquez, Bellarmine, Mo-
lina, Suarez and Mariana are the most prominent
names connected with the tendency of this school.
They frequently displayed great learning and in-
telligence. They skillfully employed the theo-
ries of the principle of sociality and of the sov-
ereignty of the people, which were in favor at
the time. In other words, they defended the old,
desperate cause with the arms of their adversaries,
and in so doing scorned no means that proved
serviceable for their holy purpose. They even
considered the murder of an herefical prince a
duty. The church herself was finally compelled
to disacknowledge these ultra-apostles of hers; yet
long before that not only governments had had
their books burned by the hands of the public
executioner, but deeply religious men, like Pascal,
had directed their combined power of heart and
intellect against this deplorable misuse of religion.
— We next come to a long line of conspicuous
British philosophers who wrote concerning the
state. Most of them had for point of departure
the problems that were agitating their own insular
kingdom in particular, but which, nevertheless,
justly claim a certain universal importance, be-
cause the convulsions that shook the state and
church in England were closely connected with
the general religious-political movement of the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Among
these men, also, there were harmless philological
dreamers, who regarded the revival of antiquity as
the standard suited to their own time. This not
only applies to More and Sidney, but even to the
highly realistic Bacon of Verulam, who, with
genuine, practical English common sense, looked
upon utility as the principle of the state. He,
nevertheless, to a certain degree, leaned on Plato,
basing the state on ethics, while Plato based it on
psychology. In the great struggle for the re-
spective rights of the crown and of the people,
absolutism found an intelligent champion in
Hobbes, who in a logical manner attributed abso-
lute inviolability to all government, while others,
like Salmasius and Filmer, demonstrated the auto-
cratic power of the monarch from the Scriptures:
the latter, in his notorious Patriarch (1665), main-
tained the identity of the royal and paternal
power, and showed that God had instituted abso-
lute monarchy with Adam, in Paradise. Milton,
with his wonted enthusiasm for truth, morality
and freedom, successfully attacked Salmasius,
while the penetrating intellect of Locke com-
pletely overthrew Filmer's patriarchal doctrine.
At the same time the principle of sociality, as it
had been accepted by the German and Dutch
writers on the philosophy of law, was established
psychologically by Richard Cumberland, with
whose name the school of so-called English moral-
ists is associated: Shaftesbury, Wollaston, Clarke,
Hutcheson, Home, Ferguson and Adam Smith. –
David Hume also went in this same direction,
although in many respects he conflicted with its
tendencies. His austere skepticism rejected the
traditional “myths” of a state of nature and of a
social contract. General utility is his principle of
the state, of law and of justice; for peace and good
faith will in the end prove more profitable than
violence and cunning. In this manner he sought
both to modify and support the optimism of the
moralists. This utilitarianism, which among Eng-
lish philosophers began with Bacon, frequently
after reappeared in England, under ever-varying
forms, as a characteristic trait; and in our own cen-
tury it attained its most marked expression in the
system of Bentham. — Yet the main branch of the
intellectual current at that time flowed through Ger-
many and the Low Countries. Here the doctrine
of the law of nature emanated from Hugo Grotius,
inasmuch as he, with greater decision and con-
sciousness than his predecessors, reduced all posi-
tive law of whatever kind to the common basis of a
constantly uniform law of nature. It was also very
characteristic of the practical starting point of all
this movement, that even Grotius begins with the
simple question: “Is it ever just to wage war?”
To investigate this question, the terrible wars, of
which he had been a witness during his own life-
time (1583–1648), furnished, indeed, sufficient cause.
He answers the question in the affirmative, in the
case of just defense or demand for satisfaction;
and he only occasionally comes to the investiga-
tion of the legal principle itself. It is, besides,
very remarkable that Grotius, as well as all the
following teachers of the law of nature, gradually
distinguished more sharply between law and the
morals of religion, although they regarded God,
or his revealed will, as the common basis of
both. As to the particular institutes of public
law, Grotius seeks to prove that they do not
necessarily, or altogether certainly, emanate from
the reason, yet he contends that they do not abso-
lutely contradict it. This problem might, indeed,
have led to a fruitful analysis of the matter of
the law, if the whole law of nature had not started
from a false conception of humanity and of his-
tory. Another fiction of this doctrine is the sup-
position of a state of nature (status maturalis),
corresponding to the law of nature, that is, a con-
180
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
dition of humanity before the beginnings of soci-
ety and of the state; and this condition of nat-
ure, with the theological philosophers, frequently
meant the supposed state in Paradise before the
fall of man (status integritatis), but with others, a
condition of wretchedness and helpless want after
the fall. — It was possible, from these general
premises, to draw the most opposite conclusions
in questions of detail. Thus Hobbes, from the
political contract, which unconditionally bestows
sovereignty on the monarch, infers extreme abso-
lutism; while Rousseau, from his contrat Social,
reaches permanent revolution, the sovereign
people having made every office revokable, and
thus at any time being able to depose the king.
Between both these extremes there exist various
kinds of modified doctrines. It is remarkable
that Spinoza here also sustained the superiority of
his genius; and although not entirely exempt
from the influences and errors of the scholarship
of his time, he on certain main points decidedly
opposed them. Thus, he combats the hypothesis
that men by the political contract ever renounced
their freedom. On the contrary, he maintains that
only in the state do they acquire freedom; that be-
fore the state there existed only arbitrary power;
and that only in the state is it possible to put an
end to irrational and unlimited unrestraint, un-
worthy of man, to attain to an existence in accord-
ance with reason. — Samuel Pufendorf agrees
with Spinoza in combating the theological view of
the state. The remarkable juridical talent of the
former placed him on many points in direct con-
flict with the traditional tendency to fill up the
whole domain of law with moral-religious ideas,
and involved him in numerous polemical conflicts
with the advocates of the latter school. Although
he also draws no clear distinction in principle, be-
tween law and morality, in most matters of detail
his sound juridical sense correctly distinguished
between them and connected them. With Spi-
noza, he lays stress on the fact that the “state
of nature” of man before the social contract is the
most wretched hypothesis conceivable, and that
man did not enter into a state of society by con-
tract, but was impelled thereto by a fundamental
law of his nature. The commands that are indis-
pensable to the preservation of society or the
community, Pufendorf holds may be enforced,
and are jus perfectum; those, on the contrary,
that only serve to render human association more
pleasant or agreeable, are not coercible, and con-
stitute jura imperfecta. Pufendorf further dis-
tinguishes between the duties of man toward
himself, and his duties toward others; and among
the latter he distinguishes the absolute and the
hypothetical, that arise from special agreements
(adventitia obligation's), such as the rights of
property, the rights of the family, and the state,
into which men entered, and that by contract, to
prevent the war of all against all. Here Pufen-
dorf pays homage to the errors of his time; but
he decidedly opposes them in his conception of
the church, which, as a corpus mysticum, should
wield no immediate, and particularly no politi-
cal, supremacy in the state. The church may
appoint teachers of its own faith; but it is
subject to the state, like any private society, and
in things not spiritual it should be deprived of
all coercive power. — Nevertheless, other ardent
champions of the old theory Soon appeared, to
oppose these innovations, at the close of the seven-
teenth, and beginning of the eighteenth, century,
in Seckendorf and Alberti, and the two Cocceji, as
well as in the works of their pupils, who directly
based both law and morals on the will of God,
as revealed in the ten commandments. Christian
Thomasius (1655–1728) was a real standard-
bearer on the field of progress, just as he was the
devoted adversary of the trials for witchcraft,
and the first who lectured on the law of nature
in the German language. At his first appearance,
while he still adhered to Grotius and Pufendorf,
he was goaded, like Luther, by the polemical writ-
ings of his numerous and violent adversaries, into
much more extreme views. His point of depart-
ure is a strict separation of religious-moral doc-
trine from natural law. The former, he claims,
has its origin in divine revelation, the latter in hu-
man reason, and the more reverently we grant the
precedence to the former, within its own sphere,
the more marked will be the independence of the
whole sphere of law.—Leibnitz (1646–1716) was not
so important an element in promoting the develop-
ment of the philosophy of law as was Thomasius,
who, both in a positive and negative manner, im-
parted a powerful impulse to that development;
but Leibnitz was a most powerful force, by the
general spread of his ideas, broadly developed by
Wolff (1679–1754); ideas which ruled the litera-
ture and the whole world of enlightened German
thought, in the period of its aufklärung (enlight-
enment). To Leibnitz, justice is the virtue which
preserves the normal condition of man’s Social life.
The pre-established harmony which keeps the
universe together, reveals itself, in the commun-
ity of men, as law, hedging in the institutions of
marriage, of paternity, the relation of master and
servant, the commune and the state. In this
sense, to obey God and to obey reason are one
and the same thing; and the conviction of the
binding force of the law does not come through
the state contract or political contract or Social con-
tract, but is given with the idea of law itself. —
Still, it was not these deep views themselves, but
rather the theistic-rationalistic ideas of an ethico-
pedagogical kind, that governed the German auf.
Jölärung (enlightenment), through the broad inter-
pretation and amplification of Wolffian dogma-
tism. — But even this harmless system of German
rationalism, on many points, calls to mind the
dangerous theories which, during the same period,
abounded in the French éclaireissement (enlight-
enment), the attempted realization of which was
destined to shake and startle the world in the
French revolution. —In France the thoroughly
corrupt moral-political and politico-economical
state of things, toward the close of the sixteenth
*
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
181
century, had, in a Montaigne, engendered abso-
lute skepticism as to the power of the moral law;
and the fermenting putrescence of that state of
affairs finally found a natural outlet in the French
revolution. — In fact, toward the middle of the
eighteenth century, the culture of the time placed
itself in open and avowed opposition to the pre-
vailing conditions in the state, the church and
society, from which that culture itself had sprung.
The rationalism of the encyclopædists, influenced
both by the English moralists and the materialistic
tendencies of the natural sciences, the study of
which was renewed, proclaimed interest (l’intérét)
the principle of all action, even of all noble action,
the latter also, it was claimed, being due to an
enlightened self-love. In order to protect the prac-
tical results of this view, men formed Society, and
created the state (D’Alembert, Didérot); society
and the state being but the outcome of the nobles
passions of men, such as ambition, pride and love
of glory. Thus Voltaire; but this author here drew
an illegitimate conclusion, because from the above
starting point, the state would manifestly owe its
origin to the abject passion of fear. Nevertheless,
Voltaire's practical efforts to effect an improve-
ment in the cruel penal code of his time, possess
a higher value than his theory. To effect that
improvement, he worked in connection with the
philanthropic club Il Café of Milan, particularly
with Beccaria, who, in his book Dei delitti e delle
pene, opposed with all his might both torture and
capital punishment. Yet this he did from the
point of view of the theory of contract, and by
the use of arguments which would altogether de-
prive the state of the right of punishment. The
circle that gathered round Baron Holbach, and
the writings that emanated from it, revealed the
materialistic tendencies of this period of “enlight-
enment.” Rousseau, however, was the real har-
binger of the revolution. His whole frame of
mind, his absolute rupture with history, his lev-
eling of all existing institutions, his heedless neg-
lect of all experience, his bold construction of
systems on entirely new ground, were destined
soon to pass from theory into the practice of the
French people. Rousseau expressly declares, that
it is impossible to examine whether there ever
existed a primitive state of man; but that, in real-
ity, man's primitive condition consisted in the
equality of all in a state of barbarism. In that state
there was neither right nor wrong nor property.
The first appropriation of things produced in-
equality, and thus kindled envy and ambition.
The Social contract was concluded, in order to
control the outbreak of these passions. Each
individual entered into this contract with each
other individual; and thus in every act of the
state every individual should be consulted; and
so the English are really free only at the moment
of the elections to parliament Sovereignty is
only bestowed conditionally and revocably; and
when authority becomes despotic, that is, when it
acts arbitrarily, it thereby cancels the social con-
tract, and re-establishes the state of nature; in
other words, it is not the people, but the govern-
ment, that is in revolution. Despotism is by its
very nature a revolution, and the uprising of the
citizens is only the result of that revolution.
The political consequences of these doctrines
afterward appeared in the statesmen of the rev-
olution, in Sieyes, to whom, as to Mirabeau, the
third estate, which hitherto had been nothing,
was everything. Thomas Paine proclaimed the
most advanced tenets of this revolutionary phi-
losophy. For him, even the Jacobins were not
sufficiently advanced in their ideas; he regarded
all government as an evil, and called monarchy
and the papacy the inventions of the devil.
His work on the rights of man was directed
against the great English statesman Burke, who,
with a rare abundance of superior political wis-
dom, combated the abstract theories of Rousseau
and the revolution. The effect of this whole
school was doubtless a destructive one. Still, in
one man at least, who otherwise completely be-
longed to it, Montesquieu, negation is found con-
nected with the work of construction, not so
much as regards what he has to say on the phi-
losophy of law, in which he was rather insig-
nificant, as in his method, and in one main result
of that method. While Rousseau intentionally
turned his back upon history, Montesquieu sought
to base his philosophical reflections on the state,
and its constitution on historical experience.
The wholesome result of this sound method was,
that while Rousseau arrived at only abstract sys-
tems, devoid of real political vitality, Montes-
Quieu, by his historical investigations, was led to
the English constitution, and thus earned for
himself the lasting merit of having transplanted
the main traits of English constitutional monarchy
to the continent of Europe, of having made it
familiarly known there, and of having endeared
it to the nations of the continent. — At the same
time there arose in Germany a kindred historical
tendency. Justus Henning Böhmer had ener-
getically combated the traditional doctrines of .
the law of nature concerning the political or
state contract, as well as the theological doctrine
in reference to the immediately divine origin of
kingly authority. These doctrines, he maintained,
were contrary to all history. The historia juris
proved manifestly, that the foundations of states
and the organization of law were human institu-
tions gradually developed, and which God had
only permitted as he had all other things. –
About the middle of the eighteenth century an
enlarged intellectual activity in all the exact sci-
ences appeared throughout Germany, chiefly in
connection with the youthful vigor of the univer-
sity of Göttingen (founded 1734). To this activ-
ity was added the careful editing and criticism of
long-neglected juridical materials, side by side
with the Roman law, which hitherto had alone
been taken into consideration in the law of na-
ture: we mean German law. The activity of
the elder Germanists who were at work upon the
history of the German empire and German law,
182
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PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
and on the antiquities and amenities of the Ger-
man law, recall the life which then stirred in
this field, and which prepared the way for the
new historical school. At the time, this tendency
had certainly no direct influence on the philoso-
phy of law. The latter still dragged along the
road of the old Wolffian law of nature in a
series of numberless compendiums, copied one
from another; and when the mighty blow fol-
lowed—the criticism of Kant, which Overthrew all
such dogmatism—it did not proceed from the pos-
itive science of law, Or from historical science, but
from the philosophy of the school. The conse-
quence was, that the effects which followed were
also limited to the philosophy of the school.—Ab-
stract philosophy, through pure construction, had,
in the science of law also, been carried to absurd-
ity. The great systems of subjective idealism,
that followed the criticism of Kant, notwithstand-
ing many subtle aperçus in detail to be found in
Hegel, Fichte anel Schelling, finally turned out to
be only ingenuous mental aberrations. On the
contrary, the new historical school, from the very
outset, was far from seeking the creation of a
philosophy of law. Hugo, Savigny, Puchta, Nie-
buhr, W. von Humboldt, Eichhorn and Grimm,
by an exhaustive investigation into the nature of
history, language, myths, and the history of law,
obtained a far deeper knowledge of the principles,
nature, development and life of the law. After
thefall of the great a priori systems, the results of
this historical school, although not as yet clothed
in the language of a genuine philosophy of law,
stepped, as it were, ºpSo jure, into the place of all
those exploded theories. In fact, the results of
this historical school, and particularly its methods,
have become the necessary starting point of all
future philosophy of law. The immediate task
of that philosophy will still long consist in appro-
priating, and shaping into the form and language
of philosophy, the results that have been obtained
by this historical school. — As regards Kant, it
should be remembered that he refuses to reach
the absolute by the “theoretic reason,” or by the
cognitive faculty; but, in the field of practical
reason, he assumes God as a postulate, through
which he and all his followers derived religion
from ethics in the same way that ethics were in
the middle ages derived from religion. After the
manner, and partly in the very language, of his
predecessors, from Thomasius to Wolff, Kant
finds the distinction between legal and moral
duties in the external coercive power of the law.
This constitutes the epitome of all the norms,
under the presupposition of which, the freedom
of all individuals is compatible with a com-
mon law for all. Kant is certainly profound in
basing the rightfulness of legal coercion on the
reason of the law; and every one, who himself is
endowed with reason, may inwardly, and on that
very account also outwardly, be compelled to
submit to the coercion of the law. — We need
not here enumerate the multitude of dependent
disciples of Kant, who for a length of time con-
cerned themselves with the law of nature. It
must be borne in mind, however, that a juridical
mind like Feuerbach’s was at the beginning cap-
tivated by Kant’s ideas, which ruled the entire
culture of the epoch. Soon, however, he strove
to sever law from its identification with the moral
law. He maintained the existence of a distinct
juridical faculty in man, side by side with the
moral faculty; and the idea of freedom, which
plays such an important part in the system of
Kant's science of law, he deliberately banishes
from law into the moral domain, so that he
wrongly bases his whole system of penal law on
a refined theory of psychological coercion, and
punishes crimes above all things according to
the measure of their danger. — In Fichte, on the
contrary, the preponderance of the practical rea-
son transforms all philosophy, and particularly
the theory of law, into ethics. Not only religion
and morals are identified, but, in the later stage
of his philosophy, law becomes a means to the
ends of morality. In the compulsory state there
prevails only the lower freedom of the law, but in
his reason-state the higher freedom of culture,
This reason-state, which, as a moral institution,
has to realize the virtue of justice, according to
Fichte, is practically the hermetically closed com-
mercial state, in which, however, as in Plato's
ideal republic, all freedom of individual life is lost.
In the Hegelian system, by the side of monstrous
distortions of juridical or legal ideas, there are to
be found several clever ideas, as, for instance, in
the penal law. It is well known that in this sys-
tem the double-edged principle, “All that is, is
rational,” has been misused to support the ex-
tremest revolutionary doctrines, and to defend the
most corrupt political systems. We must also lay
stress On the fact, that all this ingenuous philoso-
phy succumbed to the error of its methods; the a.
priori construction of all reality from “pure” ideas,
with the apparent neglect of all experience, and
of the sciences based on experience. At the very
time that the Hegelian philosophy of law, re-
ligion and history, and Schelling's philosophy
Of nature, marked the failure of these bold a
prior constructions, the above-named founders.
of the historical school had obtained important
results, through more diligent and thoughtful
detailed investigations in the field of law, tra-
dition, religion, language and all the intellectual
Sciences. These results have since become last-
ing achievements, not only of the historical and
positive, but also of the philosophical, treatment
of these Sciences. – Before we pass to the exposi-
tion of the principles of the historical school, and
try to apply them to philosophy, we must at
least mention certain groups, that are equally
distant from the great idealistic systems, and
from the historical tendency, but still in many
respects related to both, though more closely con-
nected with the current of political and social
thought. The spirit of restoration and reaction
in the state and the church, which, after the over-
throw of the French revolution, ruled, in Napo-
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
183
leon, the whole European continent, called forth
in Germany a series of phenomena, which collect-
ively may be described as the romanticism of the
philosophy of law. These phenomena are closely
connected with the romantic tendency in art and
culture, and borrowed many of their weapons
from the conservative side of the idealistic sys-
tems, as well as from the historical school. — In
this manner Karl L. von Haller, with stubborn
logical methods, would restore the whole medi-
aval idea of the state; that is, he denies that the
idea of constitutional law is different from that of
private law. The state is, according to him, noth-
ing but a great landed domain; the king is the pro-
prietor of this domain; the citizens are his servants
or tenants; the taxes are rents; and war is but the
private feud of the lord of the land. In this pat-
rimonial state there naturally exist no rights be-
longing to the citizen. With Fr. Schlegel and
A dam Müller this state romanticism inclined
toward the church. In Steffens and Baader this
same tendency was closely connected with the ideal
mysticism of Schelling. — This school closes its
preliminary stage of development with the philos-
ophy of law of Julius Stahl. This philosophy
appeared with greater pretensions, and displayed
more correct dialectics and subtler methods of
demonstration. By leaning toward the historical
school, it somewhat disguises its real purpose, but
like Haller's restoration, it was really nothing but
a return to the middle age, a relapse into the theo-
logical doctrine of the state taught by Pufendorf
and Thomasius; his doctrine of the state begins
as Orthodox theology. — Socialism forms an ex-
treme contrast to this German romanticism of the
state. At a much earlier period it had been accli-
matized in France; but it grew most luxuriantly
during the period of the restoration.—Even before
the time of the encyclopædists, Morelli had called
private property the source of all evil. Accord-
ing to him, the earth, given undivided to man,
should remain undivided. Labor should be dis-
tributed among men according to their strength
and capacity, and the product of that labor accord-
ing to the wants of each, the surplus sold, and
what was obtained for it divided equally among
all. — But to maintain this state of things, legisla-
tion was, as a matter of course, needed; a legisla-
tion which, as in the case of Lycurgus, Plato and
Fichte, would destroy all liberty. The right to la-
hor was then recognized by the views which at that
time prevailed, and ruled in all France, the views
of the physiocrates, Mirabeau, Quesnay, Gour-
nay, and even of the moderate Turgot. During
and after the revolution, these ideas reappeared,
with stormy energy, in Babeuf, Darthé, Marechal,
Buonarotti, Saint Simon, Bazard, Fourier, Cabet,
and Proudhon. In Le Maistre and Lammenais
they were associated with the ecclesiastical, relig-
ious romanticism of the state. The former re-
garded the papacy as the highest international
tribunal, while the latter, with a generous but very
unstatesmanlike enthusiasm, dreamt of the re-es-
tablishment of the state on the basis of the early
Christian community. We may also mention
briefly other chief tendencies of the doctrines of
the state in France, which yet are not originally
French. The old liberals and old constitutional-
ists (Constant, Guizot, etc.,) as Montesquieu had
Once done, inclined toward the English constitu-
tion. Others yet sought to introduce and nat-
uralize in France the methods and results of Ger-
man philosophy, particularly of the great ideal-
istic systems (as Cousin), partly in order to com-
bat materialism, which, together with the eager
pursuit of the natural sciences, seems to pre-
ponderate in modern French culture. — We are
not as yet able to pass judgment, from an his-
torical point of view, on the multitudinous tend-
encies of the German philosophy of law since
Hegel’s time, tendencies which are still in full
Course of growth, and greatly at variance among
themselves. Nevertheless, any philosophy of law
that wishes to raise itself to the actual level of
the science of law, can not henceforth aſſord to
ignore the methods or the fundamental princi-
ples of the historical school referred to above. —
3. Chief Features of the System. The main result
of the above-mentioned development, as it is
represented in the new historical school of legal
science on the continent of Europe, and of phil-
osophy, relates, in the first place, to the methods,
and then to a few, of the chief features, of the
matter of the philosophy of law. As in all the
departments of philosophy, so also in this, it has
become evident that “pure speculation,” which
pretended to construct phenomena a priori, with-
out the aid of historical experience, never existed.
The task of the philosophy of law is not to
eyolve the phenomena of the idea of law, as it
were, prophetically out of that philosophy; but,
by the aid of the inseparable forms of synthetic
and analytic thought, to investigate the principles
of law, after a careful historical and experimental
study of the matter of law itself. A correct
knowledge of law, especially of the history of
the law of different nations and the comparative
history of law, must henceforth be the basis of
all philosophy of law; but that knowledge cer-
tainly will not supplant the law, as is supposed
by the one-sided adherents of positivism and of
the historical school. — We find the realization of
the idea of law in all its multitudinous forms of
manifestation, by way of experience, in history.
The first task of the philosophy of law is to in-
vestigate the cause of this phenomenon, and to
ask: What is properly the fundamental idea that
distinguishes this from other kindred phenomena?
and how is it connected with these latter phe-
nomena? We must further inquire: Since, where-
ever men live in society, at least some traces of a
juridical organization are to be found; since law,
no less so than language, religion, morals Or art,
seems to be a necessary attribute of human na-
ture: wherein lies the necessity of the idea of
justice for mankind? — Let us start with an
approximative description of law, which does
not pretend to be a definition. We may describe
184
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
law provisionally as the sum total of general reg-
ulations, under which particular cases may be
subsumed with a certain degree of necessity. —
This at once reminds us of the fundamental
quality of all human thought in itself. All our
thinking, as it moves within the logical forms
of judgment, notion and deduction, and in de-
duction in the form of major premise, minor
premise and conclusion, is really but the sub-
sumption of particulars under the head of a
higher generality. Human speech, with which
our thinking is indissolubly connected, and which
is the essential form of our thinking, has its es-
sence in the construction of unities from multitu-
dinous phenomena of the same kind. All speaking
and thinking is, accordingly, a seeking for gen-
eralities, for unity instead of multiplicity. The
deduction, the syllogism, is, even more manifestly
than the judgment, a subsuming of a particular
under a general. — And all our research, within
the domain of mind and of nature, is nothing but
a seeking for unity, generality, necessity, in place
of the apparent multiplicity, particularity or acci-
dentality of the phenomena. In the domain of
nature we are not satisfied with the sight of the
innumerable particular phenomena presented by
falling bodies; we seek for unity, generality, ne-
cessity, in all these instances; that is, we seek for
their “law,” and speak of the law of gravity.
In the department of mind, we are not satisfied
with the impressions made by certain natural phe-
nomena or human works upon Our imagination.
We try to discover why all these like phenomena
produce the like impression that we call “beauty’;
that is, we seek for the law of beauty. All human
research is, therefore, a search for laws; that is, a
search for a generality which has the character of
unity, and under which particular phenomena are
necessarily subsumed. When we have discovered
a law in this sense, our thinking is at once satis-
fied, but not before. For the law of our thinking
itself (the general, uniform, necessary essence of
all our thoughts) consists precisely in seeking for
laws, or for a necessary generality. Thus, the
natural Sciences seek for “laws of nature,” and
the mental Sciences for “laws of mind.” Man
has divided the multitude of phenomena into two
large hemispheres, according to the standard of
their immediate, sensuous perceptibility, mind
and nature. But the human mind not only wishes
a law for each of these halves, it not only aspires
after one law of nature appearing in all the laws
of mind; but it also asks for unity above and
within this duality. As the human mind em-
braces all that is conceivable, the world of nature
and that of mind, in the idea of the universe, it
rises to the idea of and the demand for an absolute
law, a world-law of unity and necessity in the
universe. — In this manner, having recognized
that law also is general regulation, under which
particulars may be subsumed with necessity, we
can understand the inner connection of the idea
of law with the whole intellectual life of man,
and its inner ideal necessity for man. To prove
this and bring it out into relief, is an important
task of the philosophy of law. We have seen
how, since the days of Plato, through the age of
scholasticism, and of the teachers of the law of
nature, down to our modern socialists, law and
the state have almost always been conceived, as the
result of external compulsion, as a mutual assur-
ance of life and property against murderers and
robbers. It can not be denied, that this external
compulsion exists; but it does not exist alone.
Men are led not only by external motives to law
and the state; an ideal necessity impels them to
regulate their social life, its manifold relations
and phenomena, according to a uniform, general
rule, necessarily demanded by reason; that is,
according to a law. — The natural and intellectual
constitution of man teaches us that he is intended
for Society, for living together with his equals.
Natural instinct compels the two sexes of the
human species to come together, not temporarily,
like other creatures. The helplessness of man
during infancy necessitates a permanent associa-
tion of father and mother, and the human family
is specifically different from that of other animals,
just as human speech, which also presupposes a
lasting community among men, is different from
the inarticulate sounds of other animals. Man
can not even exist, still less develop his native
faculties, without utilizing in his service a num-
ber of natural objects, things and goods, to a far
greater extent than all other animals. He needs
not only food and shelter; clothing, weapons
and tools of every kind are indispensable to his
existence. But, since he lives and must live, in
common, in marriage, in the family, the clan, the
Commune, etc., and as each man has an equal
need of everything, conflicts concerning the out-
ward relations of individuals to things or goods
are unavoidable. There can be no doubt that it
was the external necessity of preventing or quickly
terminating conflicts of this kind, which consti-
tuted the real external compulsion that urged
man to create law and the state; but it is a radical
error to derive these institutions exclusively
from that external compulsion. Human society
demands a peace institution or peace order, but
it is not satisfied with one that merely insures
order. It requires a rational order of the peace.
In this lies the ideal, intrinsic root of the law.
Man does not wish the law, as external com-
pulsion, as a purely arbitrary, compulsory ordi-
nance or order. In this, as in every other domain
man possesses the faculty, and feels the want,
of seeking and finding the one general and uni-
form order which presides over the variety of
phenomena, and which appears to him rationally
necessary. The law of every people is the effort
of a human community to find a rational peace
order. Such laws embrace the cardinal principles,
which, according to the ideas of each people,
should regulate the acquisition of wealth, its
exchange, the loss of goods or claims, the punish-
ments for the unlawful violation of these same
laws, and the proofs of such violation; or, in other
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
185
words, everything which conditions social life,
based on common interests. If this order of peace
is violated, the offended person feels, that not
only his individual interest has been violated, but
also the general reason, under the protection of
which his right is placed. And, since those who
are entitled to the same rights regard the violation
of the right of an individual as a violation of the
order of peace or of the peace regulation, which,
in the common conviction of all, is alone able to
render life in Society possible in a rational way,
all feel, as does the offended individual him-
self, the necessity of restitution, and, according to
circumstances, of satisfaction. As a result of
these considerations we have the following defi-
nition : Law is the rational ordering of the peace
of a human community in what concerns the
easternal relations of the members thereof to one
another and to things. – Law is the rational order-
ing of a human community. This characterizes
it as a work of the human reason, and precludes
its derivation from supernatural revelation. We
say law is the ordering of a human community,
but not of the human community; in other words,
there is no law of nature, no abstract, model law,
equally applicable to all times and to all peoples.
The idea of law is certainly common to all
nations and to all humanity. But, just as there
is no abstract universal art, there is no abstract
absolute law. The universal human idea of law
appears only in the totality and in the succession
of the laws of separate nations, in the same way
that humanity is not a dead abstraction, above
those communities of men called nations, but ap-
pears in the totality of nations. The difference of
national characters appears in the difference of the
laws, precisely as it does in the difference of
the arts, languages and religions of the different
nations. The law of every nation is the outcome
of its natural and historical antecedents, and of
those antecedents which accorded with its na-
tional character. It should be in harmony with
the national character and the actual condition
of the civilization of the country. It grows, at
first, unconsciously, spontaneously, necessarily, as
a custom. Originally, a nation no more made its
laws than its language. — It has been objected to
this conception of law of the historical school,
that it leads to complete quietism. For it is said,
if the law of a nation necessarily grows out of its
aggregate character, individuals can do nothing
but let it grow, and there can be no such thing as
progress or learning. But the objection does not
hold. So far as it applies at all, it is no objection;
and so far as it is an objection, it does not apply.
At all events, evenin immediate stages of culture,
the law, on the whole, is changed rather uncon-
Sciously than with a conscious intention. But if
in a nation thought advances with culture and the
Complexity of its life, it naturally, also, affects
the matter of the nation's law; it then consciously
seeks to change and to improve that law, as it
seeks change and improvement in every other
sphere. As the law is always the mirror of the
condition of a nation, if a nation far advanced in
culture did not reflect upon its law, it would be
as unnatural as if the “thing” men of the primi-
tive forests of Germany had come to their judg-
ments and decrees by means of the philosophy of
law. —This also disposes of the objection that,
according to the historical conception of law, the
learning of nations from each other, and their prog-
ress, are impossible. There have been dreamers,
who, without any very profound knowledge of
history or of human nature, have gratuitously
supposed that the history of the world would
constantly progress in a straight line; that, at some
distant day, a universal law of humanity would
supplant all the special laws of the different na-
tions; and that this is to be the ultimate end of
the world’s history. But this will never happen.
It is as impossible as the existence at any time
in the future of an abstract humanity without na-
tional differences, or as that there should exist a
universal language of humanity. That comfort-
less condition of absolute uniformity is excluded
by differences in race, climate, soil, etc., which
can never be entirely effaced by any degree of civ-
ilization. But our historical conception of law
does not exclude the idea, that, in proportion as
the civilization, interests, and the common views
of nations grow more like one another, their ideas
of law will also grow more similar. But even
then the similarity of the laws of the different
nations would only be the mirror of their altered
social conditions. This similarity of laws will
probably be reached at a not very distant day, in
those departments of law which by their nature
belong more to the community of nations than
to their separate life. Thus, there already exists
an international law extending over the whole of
Europe, and even beyond its boundaries; and it
is not improbable that the most civilized nations
will shortly agree in their views in regard to the
laws relating to commerce, bills of exchange,
copyright, the post, railways, etc. Yet this can
scarcely happen as to laws relating to the family,
and to real property, to say nothing of the fact
that among many nations (as mountain and Sea-
coast peoples) many departments of law will either
necessarily exist, or necessarily be wanting. And
so nations may learn law as well as art from one
another. In so far as wherever men live together
there are certain legal relations (those created by
contract, for instance), which must be judged by
a logic inherent in these relations, a less developed
nation, possessing a younger civilization, may
very well adopt the truths which have been dis-
covered by another nation with a more ancient
civilization. The most important instance of this
phenomenon is the acceptance of the Roman law
in Germany. As the Germans had received the
whole of Graeco-Roman culture, it was very nat-
ural that they should also adopt the Roman law
—that most important of all the elements of
Roman culture; and thus far that acceptance has
proved wholesome and instructive. But it was
unnatural that that bit of ancient civilization
186
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
should be received by Germany in a way different
from the rest, or absolutely; that is, not trans-
ferred into German views because capable of being
assimilated with those views, but simply because
and as it was written in the corpus juris. This
unnatural process was only possible under the in-
fluence of the idea that the German empire was
but a continuation of imperial Rome. This intru-
sion of Roman law met with obstinate popular re-
sistance, and we are convinced that all the elements
of Roman law which have not been assimilated
will speedily again be rejected. — As our defini-
tion excludes the law of nature, and an illusory
universal human law in the future, it also deter-
mines the warmly contested relation of law to the
state. It is self-evident that the human commu-
nity, the peace of which the law orders or regu-
lates in a rational manner, according to the views
of such community, is uniformly the state. The
real, normal boundaries within which the devel-
oped life of the law regularly moves, is the circle
of the state. But although the perfect life of the
law is developed only in the state, attempts and
primitive creations of the legal instinct, in laws
relating to things, the family, contracts and punish-
ments, are to be found, even before the state, in the
clan, etc., out of which, the state historically and
gradually grows. The peoples of many states
may, for definite particular purposes, permanently
or temporarily enter into association, and conclude
commercial treaties, alliances, international treat-
ies of every kind, and reach a kind of ordering of
the peace between several kingdoms. But it only
shows how clearly the individual state is the nor-
mal circle of the community of law, that commun-
ities which are smaller or larger than the limits of
an individual state, frequently lack the foremost re-
quisite of the life of the law; a judge, and coercive
power to enforce the sentence. The patriarchal
head of the ante-state clan only too often substitutes
his own peremptory decree for the sentence of the
law; and the lack of a tribunal, as a constantly
reliable executive power, constitutes the weak
side of the law as soon as it extends its circle Over
several states. International law has hitherto in
vain sought for a tribunal, which, in case of a vio-
lation of the law, might, in a reliable manner, en-
force the fulfillment of treaties. – Since the law
regulates only the external relations of men to
each other, and not the internal relations of men
to God or to their fellow-men, it follows that the
law should not invade the domain of religion or
morals; but it follows, also, that religion and
morals should not encroach on the domain of the
law and of the State. Law and the state are their
own proper ends, just as religion and morals are.
They are independent realizations of ideas which
are as essential to human reason as religion and
morals. For this reason, since they all are but
different phenomena and tendencies of one sole
power, there exists in principle no opposition or
contradiction between them, but only complete
harmony. Only in appearance can conflicts arise
between them, as when either the state chooses to
dictate articles of faith, which is necessarily free,
or when the church prescribes a definite form of
faith as a condition precedent to the enjoyment of
civil rights. In all these domains of the free inner
life of man, in religion, science and art, the state
has only a right to command or prohibit, when
religion, Science, etc., by some external manifes-
tation, effect a disturbance of the peaceful order
of the state; when, for instance, a sect refuses.
military service, or excites its members to the ex-
termination of the adherents of Creeds other than
its own. Whenever these invisible forces pro-
duce visible phenomena, they at once enter the
domain of law, and give the law occasion, in their
own interest even, to create new forms and pro-
mulgate regulations. Thus, even the most spirit-
ual things, as the thought of the artist or author, as
Soon as they enter the circle of outward interests,
require legal regulation (copyright). The whole
law as regards religion may be summed up thus:
the state by no means assumes an indifferent at-
titude toward religion, but should allow complete
religious freedom, in the sense that the state
should not interfere with the existence of any
religion not dangerous to morals or to the state;
but, on the other hand, the state should not con-
cede an influence on civil rights to any religious
Creed. — In like manner, morals and law are neither
hostile nor indifferent to each other, but they are
independent each of the other. When the law
draws within its domain certain duties, the per-
formance of which should be dictated entirely by
the heart, as, for instance, gratitude, as did the
Athenian law of old, it becomes guilty of an unwar-
rantable trespass, which can be productive of no
good either from a legal or moral point of view.
When, on the other hand, the canon law and me-
diaeval secular law punished purely moral trans-
gressions with external and even political penalties,
they were guilty of a similar offense. — Although
in principle there does not exist any opposition
between morals and law, still, as history teaches,
such an opposition may easily exist in appearance.
When, mainly because of a diseased condition, a
nation obstinately desires to retain and keep up
forms and regulations perfectly suited to a past
epoch, but which no longer answer to the needs of
advanced progress, or to the new conditions of
the nation; which are kept up, perhaps, because
a fraction of the nation by so doing satisfies a
selfish interest, although the national life requires
a change of the old forms: in all such instances
there occurs a conflict between formal but anti-
quated law, and living, moral forces, which have
not yet become law. Instances of this, well
known to all, were the conflicts between the
patricians and plebeians in Rome, of the noble
families and the guilds in the cities of the middle
ages, during the French revolution, etc. In the
greater number of such cases the champions of
formal law believe themselves to be morally justi-
fied in their opinions. Not only selfish interests,
but boma fide convictions, are frequently brought
face to face with each other. The obduracy of
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.
187
the one and the heedless passion of the other reach
a climax, when the strain becomes unendurable,
and a violent change follows. In such a case the
right of revolution, the jus revolutionis, in a jurid-
ical sense, has been appealed to. But this is not
admissible; for no state can admit a juridical
right to a violent breach of formal law, with-
out self-abrogation. Here we must carefully dis-
tinguish between law and morals. No careful
student of law and history will deny to a people
the moral right of self-defense against the pressure
of obsolete formal law which has become un-
endurable. The law should be a rational regula-
tion or ordering of the peace. If it is an irrational
Ordering or regulation, if its pressure becomes
unendurable, and if a redress in a legal way be-
comes impossible, it would be the height of folly
to demand that the people should perish, in order
to keep merely formal law in existence. On the
contrary, in such, case the people have anthority
morally to resort even to forcible self-defense, and
the champions of obsolete law would here act
immorally, or, at least, irrationally. But, in truth,
every revolution is and must remain a breach of
formal law, although morally we may regard it
as entirely justified. A breach of the law under
all circumstances is a catastrophe, threatening to
the existence of the state, or temporarily even sus-
pending its existence; for we must guard against
the dangerous principle, that exclusively formal
law is juridically law no longer. That principle
conflicts with the essence of all law, and makes the
existence of the state dependent on the whims of
any discontented party. The moral justification
of revolution also is a dangerous theory; but, at
the same time, it is the incontestable teaching of
philosophy and of history. That teaching pre-
supposes that, objectively, there exists a case in
which self-help is unavoidable, that the pressure
of formal law has become unbearable, and that
a peaceful settlement has become impossible. If
these conditions be assumed inconsiderately to
exist, then not with the correct theory, but with
the incorrect application of the theory in practice,
must the moral-political responsibility rest. —
We shall now briefly touch on one of the most
important questions regarding the nature and
character of the state. It was in keeping with
the entire Kantian conception of morals, law and
the state, that it considered the latter merely as a
great institution for the enforcement of the law.
The state, according to that conception, estab-
lished courts, and, if necessary, carried out their
judgments by force. This mere Rechtsstaat (con-
stitutional state), by the political movements in
Germany, which began under the influence of the
critical philosophy, was used as a party shibboleth
in a two-fold sense, in that country. The Rechts-
Staat in Germany was the modern state, as it, in
connection with the English and still more with
the French revolution, contrasted with the mediae-
Val feudal and patrimonial state. The modern
state, with its ideas of citizenship, the separation
of the powers, checks and balances, popular repre-
Sentation, political rights of freedom, security of
the person and of property, freedom of conscience
and of the press; with its independence of the
courts of law—this modern state was em-
phatically called the Rechtsstaat, and formed a
Contrast to the negation or diminution of these
ideas in the state. But, in the second place, as a
contrast to Polizeistaat (police state) German
radicalism required also a pure Rechtsstaat in
another sense. It maintained that the undue
tutelage and excessive supervision which the bu-
reaucratic state introduced into all human con-
cerns, was really no part of the task of the state;
and Kant's authority was appealed to to prove that
the State was but an institution in the nature of a
court of justice. Hitherto, in fact, the interfer-
ence of the state in the activity of society, of
economy, trade, industry and culture, had been
disastrous instead of profitable. And so all right
of interference of the state in these several depart-
ments was denied. — It need not be said that the
philosophy of law looks upon the modern state as
a Rechtsstaat only in the first of these senses, and as
Opposed to the feudal state. In the second sense
of the term, however, the philosophy of law can
not sanction the mere Rechtsstaat. It assigns to
the state other tasks besides dealing out justice
in civil and Criminal cases. The abuses of the
administration should not lead to the rejection of
all administration. The task of the state is to
realize the idea of legal right, the idea of law;
but law is the regulation or ordering of the peace
in all that concerns all the external relations of
men to each other, and to things. But this order-
ing of the peace is in no manner confined to the
field of civil and criminal law, or the law relating
to private and public rights. Wherever men enter
into external relations to each other, and to things,
a rational ordering or regulation is needed, which
must aim not only at the preservation of the
actual state of things, but progress and constant
improvement. An ordering which aims only at
preserving and protecting, and not at developing
and improving, can not be called a rational or-
dering. —Law is an idea essential to the human
mind. It can not be supplanted by another any
more than religion can be by art. That idea neces-
sarily requires an external manifestation and a
power in which to embody itself. That power is
the state. —LITERATURE. The old founders and
teachers of the law of nature contain comparisons
of older views and of contemporaneous polemical
writings; in other words, they afford us the first
materials for a history of the philosophy of law.
Thus, we have the Prolegomena of Hugo Gro-
tius, and the Specimen Controversiarum of Pufen-
dorf. At the close of the seventeenth century we
meet with special works on the history of the law
of nature, historia, juris maturae, by Buddeus, 1695;
Ludovici, 1701, 1714; Thomasius, 1719. We may
mention: Schmauss, Neues System des Rechts der
Natur, Göttingen, 1754; Ompteda, Literatur des
matürlichen und positiven Völkerrechts, 1785; Hen-
rici, Ideen 270' wissenschaftlichen. Begründung der
188
PHYSIOCRATES.
Rechtslehre, Hanover, 1810; Welcker, Die letzten
Gründe von Recht, Staat und Strafe, Giessen, 1813;
Fr. von Raumer, Geschächtliche Entwickelung der
Begrifoe von Recht, Staat und Politik, Leipzig,
1826, 1832; Stahl, Rechtsphilosophie, Heidelberg,
1829, 1847; Warnkönig, Rechtsphilosophie, Frei-
burg, 1839, 1854; Schmitthenner, Zwölf Bücher
wom, Staat, Giessen, 1839; Rossbach, Die Peri-
oden der Rechtsphilosophie, Regensburg, 1842; Die
Grundrichtungen in der Geschichte der Staatswis-
senschaft, Erlangen, 1848; Lentz, Entwurf einer
Geschächte der Rechtsphilosophie, Danzig, 1846;
Ahrens, Philosophie des Rechts und Staats, 4th ed.,
Vienna, 1850, 1852; Hinrichs, Politische Vorlesun-
gen, 1842, Geschächte der Rechts- und Staatsprincº-
pien Seit dem. Zeitalter der Réformation, Leipzig,
1849, 1852; Bluntschli, Allgemeines Staatsrecht,
geschächtlich begründet, 3d ed., Munich, 1863;
Dahlmann, Die Politik aef dem. Grund und das
Mass der gegebenen Verhältnisse 27trückgeführt, 2d
ed., Leipzig, 1847; Schilling, Lehrbuch des Nat-
ſurrechts, oder die philosophische Rechtswissenschaft,
Leipzig, 1858; Hildebrand, Geschächte und System
der Rechts-und Staatswissenschaft, 1 vol., Das class-
Zsche Alterthum, Leipzig, 1860; Röder, Grund-
2üge des Naturrechts, 2d ed., Leipzig, 1860; La
Salle, Das System der erworbenen. Rechte, Ene
Wersöhnung des positiven Rechts und der Rechts-
philosophie, Leipzig, 1860; Thilo, Die Theologist-
'rende Rechts- und Staatslehre, Leipzig, 1851; Tren-
delenburg, Naturrecht auf dem Grunde der Ethik,
Leipzig, 1860. Compare POLITICS, NATURE AND
CHARACTER OF, and POLITICS, SCIENCE OF.
FELIX DAHN.
PHYSIOCRATES. I. Physiocrates and Econ-
omists. Those French economists who rallied
to the defense and advocacy of the doctrine of
Quesnay, and who constituted one of the most
brilliant groups of thinkers in the eighteenth cen-
tury, are now called physiocrates, a word derived
from physiocratie, the general title given, in 1768,
to the first volume of Quesnay's collected works,
published by his disciple, Dupont de Nemours.
Quesnay and his friends understood by physi-
ocracy (from q21%615, nature, and 2¢pareiv, to
ºrule), the natural constitution, the natural order,
of human Society.—Dupont thought (correctly in
some respects) that Quesnay had pointed out this
nature of things, and he called the aggregate of
his views physiocracy. The expression, however,
was not generally adopted. The term physiocrates,
derived from it, is of comparatively recent use.
J. B. Say first employed it in his Cours Complet,
published in 1829, and it appears to have been
popularized by the illustrious Rossi, and the edi-
tors of the Collection, des Principawa, Economistes,
who have grouped together the most remarkable
writings published by this celebrated school in
the second volume of their collection, under the
title “Physiocrates.” In 1847, one year later,
the French “Academy of Moral Sciences” used
the term in the programme for a prize essay,
formulated as follows, in accordance with Rossi's
proposition, “to investigate what the influence of
the School of physiocrates has been on the advance
and development of economic science, as well as
on the administration of states in the matter of
finance, manufactures and commerce.” — Until
the expression physiocrates was adopted, the dis-
ciples of Quesnay were designated by periphrases,
or by the term economists, which was always under-
lined in manuscript, or printed in italics, so as not
to confound the economists, disciples of the doctor,
with other writers or publicists occupied with
economic questions; and we can not do better
here than to reproduce a few lines from a pro-
duction which we published in vol. xxxiii. of the
Journal des Economistes: “Smith said (in speaking
of the disciples of Quesnay, book iv., chap. ix.),
‘A few years ago they formed [Smith published
his book in 1776] a considerable sect, distinguished
in the republic of letters in France by the name
economists.' J. B. Say continued to designate
them ‘the sect of economists’ in the second edi-
tion of his Thraité, published in 1814, which
greatly displeased Dupont de Nemours, who, in
a letter dated April 22, 1815, wrote him as fol-
lows: ‘You do not speak of the economists with-
out applying to them the odious name of Sect,
which supposes a mixture of stupidity, folly and
stubbornness. This insult from a Grimm would
not be offensive; but the expressions of a Say
have a different weight.” In a preceding letter,
full of animation and good nature, the aged dis-
ciple of Quesnay said to the continuer and future
emulator of Adam Smith, ‘You are an economist,
my dear Say; I shall take good care not to ex-
communicate you. On your part,' etc.” — J. B.
Say, we thus see, although the author of a treatise
on political economy, still at that period qualified
the physiocrates as economists. The same obser-
vation may be made in reading the first work
of Sismondi, who, in entitling his book, De la rich-
esse commerciale, ou Mouveaua, principes d'économie
politique, underlined the word economists, and
applied it only to the disciples of Quesnay. He
said (vol. i., p. 5), “Dr. Quesnay and Turgot
founded the sect of economists about 1760.” (This
is not altogether accurate, as we shall see.) This
repulsion for the name, which Sismondi and J. B.
Say exhibited in their first writings, was, till a
comparatively recent date, the feeling of those
who concerned themselves with political economy,
for they called themselves political economists
(see Say's Cours Complet), or they even avoided
giving themselves a name, since, on the One hand,
the qualification political annoyed them, by caus-
ing mistakes and inspiring distrust, and because
they feared that the name economists alone would
cause them to be confounded with the adherents
of Quesnay. Nevertheless, the disciples of Fourier
and Saint Simon popularized this expression by
using it to designate the partisans of economic or
liberal ideas, and Fourier had even invented the
word economism, the better to express his con-
tempt for this science of the civilized (civilisés)!
On the other hand, the publication in France of
PHYSIOCRATES.
189
the Journal des Econom?stes, and of the Collection
des Principawa, Economistes, and in England of the
weekly journal “The Economist,” have made the
expression familiar, which is no longer the special
designation of the adherents of the sect of Ques-
may or the partisans of an exclusive system, but the
general designation of all who concern themselves
scientifically with economic questions. The fifth
edition of the dictionary of the French academy,
1814, does not contain the word áconomiste. It is
only the sixth edition, published in 1835, which
gave it final sanction with its true meaning, saying:
“Economist, one specially occupied with political
economy.”—It is a remarkable fact that economists
received this appellation before their science was
named, and that this word was taken, not from
political economy, but from the adjective economic,
itself derived from economy, which often dropped
from the pens of writers during the middle of the
last century, in consequence of all intellectual
movement which led men to philosophic questions
of this order — a movement that called forth a
large number of writings, and caused the estab-
lishment, in 1754, of a chair of mechanics and com-
merce at the university of Naples, for the cele-
brated abbé Genovesi, who was professor in that
institution of what he soon called civil economy
and a chair of cameralistic Sciences at the Palatine
school of Milan, where the no less illustrious Bec-
caria was professor of public economy. As early as
the Second quarter of the same century, from
1729 to 1747, Hutcheson, the father of Scotch phi-
losophy, inserted in his course of moral philosophy
Some lectures on economics. “These lectures,” as
Cousin observes, in his Cours de l’histoire de la
philosophie moderne, “were of no great value in
themselves; but it is to this part of Hutcheson's
course, perhaps, that Europe is indebted for Adam
Smith, the greatest economist of the eighteenth
century.” — II. Composition of the School. Du-
pont de Nemours speaks as follows of the origin
of this school, in a note to his edition of the works
of Turgot. “The French economists, who founded
the modern Science of political economy, had as
forerunners the duke of Sully, who said, ‘Til-
lage and pasturage are the breasts of the state’;
the marguis d’Argenson, author of the excellent
maxim, “Do not govern too much '; and the elder
Trudaine, who in practice opposed courageously the
prejudices of ministers and the preconceived opin-
ions of his colleagues, the other counselors of state,
with that useful maxim. The English and the
Dutch had a glimpse of a few truths, which were
only faint glimmerings in a night of gloom. The
Spirit of monopoly arrested the advance of their
enlightenment. In other countries, if we except
the three notable men whom we have just named,
no one had. even imagined that governments
should pay attention to agriculture in any way, or
to commerce except to impose on it arbitrary
regulations suggested by the moment, or to sub-
ject its Operations to taxes, duties and tolls. The
Science of public administration, pertaining to
these interesting labors, did not yet exist. It was
not even suspected that they could be the object of
a science. The great Montesquieu had looked at
them so superficially that in his immortal work
there is a chapter entitled : ‘To what nations it
is disadvantageous to engage in commerce.’ —
Toward 1750 two men of genius, profound and
acute observers, led on by the force of a long sus-
tained attention and severe logic, animated by a
noble love of country and humanity, Quesnay
and de Gournay, labored persistently to ascertain
whether the nature of things did not point to a
Science of political economy, and what were the prin-
ciples of this science; they approached it from
different sides, arrived at the same results, and,
meeting, congratulated each other, applauded each
other, when they saw with what exactness their
different but equally true principles led to con-
sequences absolutely similar; a phenomenon al-
ways repeated when men are not in error; for
there is but onc nature which embraces all things,
and no one truth can contradict another. While
they lived they continued to be, and their disci-
ples have never ceased to be, entirely at one as to
the means of advancing agriculture, commerce
and finances, of increasing the happiness, the pop-
ulation, the wealth, and the political importance
of nations.” — De Gournay, Son of a merchant,
many years a merchant himself, had recognized
that manufactures and commerce can only flourish
through freedom and competition, which destroy
the taste for haphazard undertakings, and lead to
reasonable speculation; which prevent monopo-
lies, and limit the private gains of merchants to
the good of commerce; which quicken industry,
simplify machinery, decrease oppressive rates for
transportation and storage, and which lower the
rate of interest. From this he concludes that
commerce should never be taxed or regulated. .
From this he drew the following axiom: Laissez
faire, laissez passer. Quesnay, born on a farm,
the son of a landowner who was a skillful agri-
culturist, and of a mother whose great intellect-
ual powers aided her husband’s administration to
perfection, turned his attention more especially
to agriculture; and seeking to find the source of
the wealth of nations, he discovered that wealth
is the offspring of those labors in which nature
and the divine power second the efforts of
man to bring forth or collect new products; so
that we can expect the increase of this wealth
only from agriculture, fisheries (he held the chase
of small account in civilized societies), and the
working of mines and quarries. – “The two as-
pects under which Quesnay and de Gournay had
considered the principles of public administration,
and from which they inferred precisely the same
theory, formed, if we may say So, two Schools,
fraternal none the less, which have had for each
other no feeling of jealousy, and which have re-
ciprocally enlightened each other. From the
school of de Gournay came de Malesherbes, the
abbé Morellet, Herbert, Trudaine de Montigny,
d’Invan, Cardinal de Boisgelin, de Cicé, arch-
bishop of Aix, d’Angeul, Dr. Price, Dean Tucker,
19()
PHYSIOCRATES.
and some others. The principal members of the
school of Quesnay were Mirabeau, author of
l'Ami des hommes, Abeille, de Fourqueux, Bertin,
Dupont de Nemours, Count Chreptowicz, chan-
cellor of Lithuania, the abbé Roubaud, Le Trosne,
Saint-Péravy, de Vauvilliers; and, of a higher
rank, the margrave, afterward grand duke of
Baden, and the archduke Leopold, since emperor,
who governed Tuscany so long and so success-
fully, le Mercier de La Rivière, and the abbé
Baudeau. The two latter constituted a separate
branch of de Quesnay's school. Thinking that
it would be easier to persuade a prince than a
nation, that freedom of trade and labor as well as
the true principles of taxation would be intro-
duced sooner by the authority of sovereigns than
by the progress of reason, they perhaps favored
absolute power too much. They thought that
this power would be sufficiently regulated and
counterbalanced by general enlightenment. To
this branch belonged the emperor Joseph II. Be-
tween both of these schools, profiting from both,
but avoiding carefully the appearance of adhering
to either of them, there appeared certain eclectic
philosophers, at the head of whom we must place
Turgot and the celebrated Adam Smith, and
among whom are deserving of very honorable
mention the French translator of Adam Smith,
Germain Garnier; and in England, Lord Lans-
downe; in Paris, Say; at Geneva, Simonde.” —
This extract from Dupont de Nemours makes
some observations necessary. To begin with, as
Dupont wrote in 1808, in commencing the publi-
cation of the works of Turgot, it is plain that the
other celebrated economists of that century are
not mentioned. J. B. Say was not yet a pro-
fessor; he had only published the first edition of
his Traité (1803), and his fame was not then great.
Sismondi, also, was only at the beginning of his
career and reputation; Malthus, Ricardo, Mill,
etc., had not written, and the men who were to
bear the greatest names in contemporary political
economy were still either in their childhood or
youth. It is also to be remarked that Dupont
does not assign his real place to Adam Smith, who,
whatever be the idea formed of the aid which
he may have received from the school of the
physiocrates, is assuredly something very different
from an eclectic writer utilizing the ideas of de
Gournay and Quesnay. — As to the two schools
founded by these two eminent men, we must not
take literally what Dupont de Nemours writes.
Vincent de Gournay died early, about the middle
of 1759, at the age of 47, when Quesnay had
scarcely (about the end of 1758) published his doc-
trines in a precise manner, in the celebrated Tab-
leau Economique, printed in the castle of Ver-
sailles under the very eyes of the king. Except
the translation, with the assistance of Butel Du-
mont (1754) of the treatise of Josiah Child on
commerce and the interest on money, he had writ-
ten nothing but memoirs addressed to ministers,
and which remained unpublished. It is only from
a notice drawn up shortly after his death, by Tur-
got, for Marmontel, with notes by Dupont, that
we know the ideas of de Gournay, and if what
Turgot has said of them makes us think that there
might have been disagreements between the two
philosophers, still we are not authorized to declare,
since the proofs are wanting, that de Gournay had
a system of doctrines, that is to say, the elements,
the raw material, for a school. Still, Turgot, in
delineating with some detail de Gournay's opin-
ions relative to the nature and production of
value, says, “de Gournay thought that a work-
man who had manufactured a piece of cloth had
added real wealth to the aggregate wealth of the
state.” Dupont adds, in a note: “This is one of
the points in which the doctriné of de Gournay
differed from that of Quesnay,” and he gives the
reasons for this statement. — Although Dupont
does not specify the other points in which de
Gournay differed from Quesnay, it follows from
this passage that the two philosophers did not
always agree. Another important remark is, that
the analyses of modern economists have shown
that de Gournay was right as to the phenomenon
of production. De Gourmay had a clearer insight
of the truth, and if he had demonstrated it and
deduced the consequences which flow from it, he
would, on certain fundamental points, have surely
held a different doctrine from that of Quesnay,
and carried off the honor which later came to Adam
Smith, of rectifying the school of physiocrates;
but we all know that in a question of scientific
ideas there is a great difference between the cor-
rect feeling of the truth and the introduction of
this truth into the domain of a science or simply
a philosophic system. To judge from our personal
impressions, it appears to us doubtful whether
de Gournay followed the celebrated doctor in his
exclusive theory of agriculture. But it is evident
that these two illustrious men met on the funda-
mental question of the freedom of labor, and it
is probable that they had the same philosophic
point of departure. Be this as it may, Dupont is
not altogether exact or correctly informed when
he seems to say that de Gournay was the first to
recognize the legitimateness and fruitfulness of
the principle of competition and of the liberty
of commerce. Vauban and Boisguillebert, whose
writings were published even before de Gournay .
was born, give proof of their remarkable efforts
in favor of this principle. It was from the pen of
Boisguillebert, as Eugene Daire rightly says, that
the first pleas appeared in France for the free cir-
culation of corn, and he even pointed out sci-
entifically, previous to the physiocrates, the excel-
lence of agriculture, which is the pivot on which
Quesnay's ideas turn. He also wrote on the nat-
ure, production and distribution of wealth, as
well as upon the function of money, pages which
permit us to think that the school of Quesnay has
made great use of his labors.-Dupont de Nemours
is too exclusive in not having mentioned other
writers on economy, as having made contributions
to the edifice of the science, such as Josiah Child,
who in 1668 published his ‘‘Brief Observations
EPHYSIOCRATES.
191
concerning Trade and the Interest of Money”;
Locke, who in 1691 wrote some curious “Con-
siderations on Money”; Dudley North, who pro-
claimed that same year the principle of free
trade; Forbonnais, whose Éléments de Com/merce
dates as far back as 1734; Melon, whose Essa?
politique sur le commerce belongs to the same
year; Dutot, whose Réfleaſions politiques sur le
commerce et les finances was published in 1738,
etc.; and other writers who labored to eluci-
date economic doctrines contemporaneously with
physiocrates such as Hume, whose “Essays.”
on various economic subjects appeared in 1752,
earlier than the writings of Quesnay, and who
knew how to free himself from the prejudices
of the balance of trade; men like the no less
celebrated Genovesi, who, beginning with 1754,
delivered a scientific course on questions relative
to wealth; Werri, who wrote on these matters
in 1763; James Stewart, who published at Lon-
don, in 1767, four volumes, with the remarkable
title “An Inquiry into the Principles of Political
Economy”; Beccaria, who began at Milan, in 1769,
lectures on the same subject, entitled “Course of
Commercial Sciences”; and other writers, Italian
and German, whom it would be too tedious to
mention; finally, Adam Smith, who, before pub-
lishing his book in 1776, had come to Paris in 1764
to have a discussion with philosophic economists,
after he had lectured on moral philosophy for
fourteen years in the university of Glasgow, part
of his labors being devoted to the subjects devel-
oped in his “Essay on the Nature and Causes of
the Woalth of Nations.” On the other hand, we
must say that not all the persons whom Dupont
de Nemours enrolls under the banner of Ques-
may followed the doctrine of the master in every
point; some held themselves somewhat aloof from
the school. Among these was Morellet. On this
point we believe it useful to reproduce certain
passages concerning the quarrel of the latter with
Linguet, so noted for his literary eccentricities,
and his declamations against bread, which he
treated as poison. Linguet having advanced sev-
eral monstrosities, such as the following: that
despotic governments are the only ones which
render nations happy; that society lives by the
"destruction of its liberties, as carnivorous animals
live on the timid ones, etc.—Morellet answered
him sharply, in a pamphlet, entitled Théorie du
paradoaie. Linguet replied by Théorie du libelle,
where we read the following details, connected
with our subject: “This illustrious pander of
science, this invincible champion of the net prod-
uct, this venerable archimandrite of the order of
brothers of the economic doctrine, has risen above
call eulogy by forcing his heart to outrage a pros-
trate man, and raising his foot to give him the
last kick. If it be asked what the order in ques-
tion is, we may answer, in order to spare com-
mentators in ages to come a disagreeable task,
that it is a new order, founded about 1760, under
the name of the Economists Brothers, by Father
Qués..., who had a spiritual Son, brother Mirab. ...,
who begat brother Baud..., who begat the A. M.,
which brought forth the Théorie des Paradoaies.
The name Economists was given to them about
the year 1770; they took the place of the Ency-
clopædists, who had succeeded the * * *, who
had ousted the * * *, who had come after the
Calvinists, and so on, going back farther and far-
ther. * * * This order, beginning with 1775, had
already produced many great men, such as brother
Dup. ..., brother Baud..., brother Roub. . ., broth-
er Mor. ..., etc., all mighty in works and words.
Hence, they have filled the universe with the
noise of their names and their pamphlets or libels,
which are synonymous in their language * * *.”
Morellet answered: “The author of the Théorie
des Paradoves is not an economist. Surely, if the
A. M. had been begotten to political economy
by the late M. Q., or by some one of the disciples
of this estimable man, he would not have denied
his origin. The economists are honorable citizens,
whose intentions were always upright and their
zeal as pure as it was active; men who were the
first to teach or render popular many useful
truths. They have been reproached with a zeal
which has sometimes carried them beyond their
object; but it is much better, doubtless, to yield
to this impulse, which, after all, can arise in them
only from a love of the public good, than to con-
tinue in the cowardly indifference to the happi-
ness of their fellow-men which is exhibited by so
many persons, or to decry those who are interested
in it; but be this as it may with the economists,
the A. M. is obliged to confess that he never re-
ceived any lessons from Dr. Q., nor from M. de M.;
and that he busied himself with political economy
before Dr. Q. had begotten anybody; that he was
never present at any assembly of the disciples;
and lastly, since it must be told, that he never
understood the economic tableau, nor pretended
to make anybody else understand it; a clear pro-
fession of faith, and one which puts the author .
of the Théorie des Paradoales beyond the reach of
all blows which L. aims at the economists, blows
from which they can defend themselves, if they
think it worth the while.”— Later, the first con-
sul, in conversation with Morellet, said to him:
“You are an economist, are you not? You are
in favor of the impôt unique, are you not? You
are also in favor of the freedom of the corn trade,
are you not?” “I answered him,” says Morellet
(in his Mémoires, chap. xxvii.), “that I was not
among the purest of them; and that I added cer-
tain modifications to their doctrines.” Morellet
had, indeed, early fought for freedom of labor,
and freedom of commerce; but he does not seem
to have shared the enthusiasm of some authors
for the agricultural theory of their master. —
III. Economic Philosophy of the Physiocrates. The
doctrine of the physiocrates may be considered in
relation to philosophy, political economy and
politics. The philosophic ideas of the school are
scattered through the different works of the chief
and his principal disciples; but they are to be
found especially in the short treatise of Quesnay
192
PHYSIOCRATES.
on natural law, and summed up in his fragments
published under the title of Maasimes. In en-
deavoring to condense them into a few words, we
may imagine Quesnay as saying: The world is
governed by immutable physical and moral laws.
It is for man, an intelligent and free being, to
discover them, and to obey them or to violate
them, for his own good or evil. The end assigned
to the exercise of his intellectual and physical
powers, is the appropriation of matter for the sat-
isfaction of his wants, and the improvement of his
condition. But he should accomplish this task
conformably to the idea of the just, which is the
correlative of the idea of the useful. Man forms
an idea of justice and utility, both individual and
social, through the notions of duty and right
which his nature reveals to him, and which teach
him that it is contrary to his good and the general
welfare to seek his own advantage in the damage
done to others. These ideas enter the minds of
individuals and peoples in proportion to the in-
crease of enlightenment, and the advance of civil-
ization: they naturally produce feelings of frater-
nity among men, and peace among peoples. – The
chief manifestations of justice are liberty and
property, that is to say, the right of each one to do
that which in no way hurts the general interest,
and to use at his pleasure the goods which he pos-
sesses, the acquirement of which is conformable
to the nature of things and to the general utility,
since, without liberty and property, there would
have been no civilization, and a very much smaller
amount of goods at the disposition of men. Lib-
erty and property spring, then, from the nature of
man, and are rights so essential that laws or agree-
ments among men should be limited to recogniz-
ing them, to formulating them, to Sanctioning
them. Governments have no mission but to
guard these two rights, which, with a correct
understanding of things, embrace all the material
and moral wants of society. To say that liberty
and property are essential rights, is to say that
they are in harmony with the general interest of
the species; it is to say that with them the land is
more fertile, the industry of man in all its mani-
festations more productive, and the development
of all his moral, intellectual, scientific and artistic
aptitudes swifter and surer, in the path of the
good, the beautiful, the just and the useful; it is
to say, further, that man best gathers the fruit of
his own efforts, and that he is not at least a vic-
tim of the arbitrary laws of his fellow-men.—“Be-
fore Quesnay,” says Eugene Daire, “nothing was
vaguer than the idea of the just and the unjust;
and the determination of the natural and indefeas-
ible rights of man had not been touched by any
philosopher. It was tacitly agreed that the ideas
of justice, applicable only to individual relations,
should remain foreign to civil, public, and espe-
cially to international law. Morality, since the
principles from which it must be deduced were
only dimly perceived, seemed fit only to govern
private relations, but not those of the state to its
members, or those of one people to another, which,
it was supposed, should be necessarily subjected
solely to the law of force and cunning. Religion
did not understand the economy of society, because
it concerned itself only with the future life; and
politics did not understand it any better, because it
did not suspect the intimate connection of the
moral with the physical order of the world. Set-
ting out to govern men from the principle of the
incompatibility of the useful with the just, it was
impossible for the ministers of the one or the
other to avoid the most disastrous results even if
they had never been guided by any but the purest
intentions. Struck with this fact, Quesnay be.
came persuaded that the truth lay in the opposite
principle, and interrogating the nature of man and
the nature of things, he discovered in them the
proof that the three great classes of every civilized
society, that is to say, landed proprietors, capital.
ists and workmen, as well as the various nations
into which the human race is divided, have only
to lose by violating justice, mutually oppressing
and annoying one another. This was to establish
social morality, the absence of which produces a
false notion of right and wrong in every mind,
even in things touching individual relations. It
was to free from the clouds of mysticism the
great principle of peace and fraternity among
men, and set it on the bases most fitted to insure its
triumph.”— As Passy remarks in his report on
the memoir which we have just cited, these max-
ims were not all equally new; and the most general
of them were to be met with already in the works
of certain writers; the Gospel itself contained
many of them. But up to that time they had
never been presented in the form of a broad sys-
tem, never had there been deduced from them
so clearly consequences of social application;
which warrants us in saying, with Eugene Daire,
that Quesnay was really the first thinker of the
eighteenth century who made the organization
of society the subject of his meditations; the
man who gave to the world the newest doctrine,
and at the same time the fittest to exercise a
happy influence on the welfare of nations. Mon-
tesquieu, Voltaire and Rousseau were great minds,
beyond a doubt; but Quesnay served the human
race most, in having shown that the happiness
of the majority depends much less on the mech-
anism of governmental forms than on the devel-
opment of human industry, and that it is impos-
sible to discuss politics rationally without hav-
ing previously acquired a knowledge of the econ-
omy of society. “Of course wealth had not al-
together escaped the attention of thinkers and
governments previous to this philosophy,” remarks
Eugene Daire again, “but there is this difference,
that, while among the first some only saw, so to
speak, a necessary evil, it suggested to others
nothing beyond systems of artificial distribution,
and to governments merely fiscal inventions to
plunder their subjects. Quesnay understood that
the whole science of social organization may be
summed up in that of the regular production and
distribution of the goods of this world, that is to
PHYSIOCRATES.
193
say, production and distribution effected accord-
ing to the unchangeable laws established for the
preservation, the indefinite increase, the happiness
and the improvement of our species. To investi-
gate these laws, by questioning our own nature
and its necessary relations with the external world,
such is the work which the chief of the school of
physiocrates undertakes to accomplish. Instead
of following the example of most philosophers,
by declaiming against wealth, on which all the
affairs of this world turn, he fathomed the laws
of wealth, as well as those of human labor. To
sum up, Quesnay and the school of physiocrates
made a scientific study of the useful, considered
men living in society as producers and consumers
first of all, and drew the conclusion that the ideas
of right, of peace and fraternity among men, do
not rest exclusively on the mysterious dogma of a
future life, but on the observance of natural laws,
which may be obeyed with profit, and are not vio-
lated with impunity in this world.”—IV. Political
Economy of the Physiocrates. The philosophy of
the physiocrates is, therefore, an economic philos-
ophy; and while endeavoring to sum it up here
we have given in part the general data of their
political economy. It only remains for us to add
a few technical indications of those of their ideas
which belong more especially to the economic
order. In doing this we shall limit ourselves to
setting forth these ideas, because it would be im-
possible, in the limits granted us, to explain with
even partial completeness, in what these ideas may
appear to us corrector incorrect, and in what points
it has been possible for them to be accepted or op-
posed by the chief economists. The history of the
filiation of economic doctrines, moreover, has not
yet been written. — The physiocrates set out with
the principle that materiality is the fundamental
character of wealth, and from this concluded to
measure the value and utility of labor by the quan-
tity alone of the raw material which it was able to
produce. The first effect of this theory was to ex-
clude from the domain of political economy an
innumerable multitude of services which men
render each other. They formed, therefore, an
incomplete idea of the value of things, which pre-
vented them from seeing into the phenomenon of
production clearly, estimating correctly the posi-
tion of land, labor and capital, and rendering an
exact account of the relative and absolute utility
of all the branches of human industry; agricul-
tural industry, manufacturing industry, transpor.
tation, commercial industry, and the numerous
professions in which men furnish or exchange
physical Or intellectual labor, that is to say, Serv-
ices. In this way they were led to accord the
character of productiveness to agricultural indus-
try only, and to treat as sterile the other indus-
tries, while they, at the same time, asserted that
manufacturing industry, commerce and the liberal
professions are essentially useful. Their theory,
by being squint-eyed at the first, if we may so
express ourselves, led them to consequences which
they found it difficult to admit in the discussion
132 VOL. III. - 13
of questions and application of principles, accord-
ing as they started from the point of view of the
sterility of industries other than agriculture, to
which they were obliged to give, both in theory
and practice, an exceptional and false position.
By virtue of their system, the economists really
admitted, as a natural and social necessity, the
pre-eminence of landed proprietors over all other
classes of citizens. Now, this idea of pre-emi-
nence, agreeing with the prejudices of the nobles,
has left more than one trace in economic and
political laws. – Their error is explicable at the
beginning of the science. It was not given to
the physiocrates alone to make all analyses, and
to grasp with precision all the differences and re-
semblances of the various modes of production.
On the other hand, it must not be forgotten that
they combated the mercantile theory, which made
wealth to consist only in the precious metals, and
which exaggerated the advantages of foreign Com-
merce; that they combated also the infatuation
for the manufacturing system; that they allowed
themselves to react too forcibly against these ex-
clusive prejudices, and in turn to become exclusive
by their favor for an industry too much ignored,
whose excellence they were deeply desirous of
demonstrating. — Of Quesnay's works the Tab-
léau, Economique attracted most attention. Ques-
nay’s object was to describe synoptically the facts
relative to the production, distribution, consump-
tion and transformation of values. It is difficult
to explain the success of this publication, which
is itself not very intelligible. Made up of figures
strangely disposed, this tableau contributed to
throw discredit rather than light on the theory.
The explanations of the Marquis Mirabeau ren-
dered it still more cabalistic and mysterious; those
of the abbé Baudeau and of Le Trosne, though
much clearer, were still not clear enough. We
have just read the declaration of Morellet on the
subject. In reality, the chiefs of the school
wished to prove that society had no other revenue
than the net product of the soil, all expenses de-
ducted, including the maintenance of its cultiva-
tors; that consequently it had no greater interests
than the increase of this revenue; that the power of
the state and the progress of civilization depended
on it; that this revenue alone should be taxed;
that we must not see in the capital in agriculture,
industry and commerce, anything but the sacred
eludowment of labor, without which thcro would
be neither wealth nor landed proprietors; that the
expenses of industry and commerce are merely
an outlay which should be reduced to the lowest
figure by free competition. — On the subject of
territorial revenue and net product, the question
arises: what did the school mean exactly by these
expressions? and in what were their ideas on these
these subjects like or unlike those on rent held by
Adam Smith, J. B. Say, Ricardo, Malthus, Rossi,
M’Culloch, etc.? This is still a question which
does not appear to us to have been clearly settled
by those who occupied themselves with the sub-
ject. We shall state merely that it was through
194
PHYSIOCRATES.
the impossibility of analyzing the economic phe-
nomena connected with the subject, that Necker
and many others cast ridicule on the ideas which
the physiocrates advanced. For our own part,
we can not give an opinion on the subject without
entering into a long discussion, and we therefore
refer to the writings of the authors whom we
have just cited, and to the explanations given by
Eugene Daire in his memoir, and by Passy in his re-
port on this memoir. (See RENT.)— Although the
physiocrates did not form an exact idea of the
phenomena of production, and consequently of
the real nature of value and of exchange of wealth,
they had correct notions on the subject of money:
to them is due the beginning of the ruin of the
mercantile system, and, after Boisguillebert and
before Adam Smith, they contributed much to
elucidate the principle of the freedom of ex-
changes. First, they demonstrated that every
obstacle to this freedom is a violation of the fun-
damental rights of labor and of property, and,
secondly, that every hindrance to exportation and
importation causes an artificial change in the
value of products, and the revenue of lands, some-
times at the expense of producers, sometimes at
the expense of consumers, by reducing finally
public wealth and taxable property. In the ques-
tion of finances they deduced from the produc-
tiveness of agricultural industry (which they
considered the only productive one), and the
hypothesis admitted by themselves, that taxation
always falls on the landed proprietors, whatever
be the mode of its collection, the rule directly to
tax land rents or net product, that is to say, to
establish a single land tax to the exclusion of all
personal contributions and all taxes on consump-
tion, which they called, and which we still call,
Žndirect taxes. – These are the principal points
of the physiocratic theory. Modern science has
rectified the idea of wealth and of the produc-
tiveness of the different branches of industry;
it has accepted the explanation of money and
the demonstration of the principle of commer-
cial freedom in opposition to the doctrine of the
balance of trade, definitively overthrown. It has
not yet pronounced clearly on the theory of net
product, although it pays little attention to the
famous economic tableau. It hesitates also on
the important question of taxation. — But it is
just to recognize, in entering into the details of
the economic investigations to which the disci-
ples of Quesnay devoted themselves, that we see
that they threw a clear light on all parts of the
science, even if they started from a false princi-
ple or got lost in a false theory; that, for exam-
ple, of the materiality of wealth, and that of the
productiveness of agriculture alone, which did
not hinder them from finding, or which perhaps
caused them to find, luminous views on different
points. It is, however, a common fact in the
history of science, that a false theory, elaborated
by superior minds, advances them in the path of
truth, which it is afterward easier for their succes-
sors to follow, and to whom is reserved the honor
of finding a sounder and more unimpeachable
theory. — If we wish to understand the ideas of
the physiocrates, we must begin with the writings
of their master, and then take up in succession
the works of his principal disciples: Mirabeau,
Mercier, Baudeau, Le Trosne and Turgot. To
the elder Mirabeau, belongs the honor of having
been the first who was aroused to enthusiasm by
the lofty reason of Quesnay, of having written,
developed and commentated on his principles, and
of having introduced them into practical politics
and administration. The first exposition of the
economic system is found in his Philosophie Ru-
Tale, published in 1763. It is one of the least un-
intelligible books of the marquis. Its perusal is
of little value except to those who wish to know
how the school began; but it must be acknowl-
edged that, in spite of his eccentricities of style
and mistiness of thought, this economist philos-
opher had the talent of causing himself to be
read, and of calling public attention to the study
of questions which others knew how to explain
better than he. Each man has his mission in this
world. After the Philosophie Rurale, appeared
the book of Mercier-La Rivière, who had met
Quesnay, at the same time as Gournay and the
Marquis de Mirabeau; and who afterward left
France to take the place of intendant at Martin-
ique for a time; on returning, he renewed his
former intimacy with Quesnay, and labored to
disseminate his doctrine. Mercier-La Rivière's
book is entitled l’Ordre maturel et éSS670tel des So-
ciétés politiques; it appeared in 1767, four years
after Mirabeau’s work. The title of this book
promises a methodical treatise on social economy,
a promise it does not fulfill. The first part is a
series of rather confused dissertations on the moral
order, the politics and the material interests of
society. But the author becomes more positive
and more interesting in the second part, where he
makes a close analysis, according to Quesnay's
system, of all the questions of the material economy
of society, referring to the peculiar or distinct
effects of agriculture, industry and commerce, to
the reciprocal relations of different nations, and
to the nature and object of public revenue. This
work, in spite of its imperfections and an obscure
and sometimes ridiculous form, had much suc-
cess with the philosophic part of the public,
whose attention had been attracted to these mat-
ters by the sententious and abstract writings of
Quesnay and by the dissertations of l'Amº des
hommes, which were at once tedious and obscure.
It was the first time, too, that the doctrine as-
sumed a form intelligible to the common mind;
Dupont de Nemours made an analysis of it, a year
later, under the title, Origine et progrès d'une
science nouvelle (1768). By publishing it, Mercier.
La Rivière helped spread the ideas of his master;
but at the same time he added to it a dangerous
theory which was afterward very injurious to the
popularity of the economists. We mean his theory
of despotism, to which we shall return a little
further on. — Five years after Mercier's book, there
BHYSIOCRATES.
195
appeared another important work, so far as it was
a general exposition of physiocratic ideas, that of
the abbé Baudeau, a celebrated publicist of the
time, who was converted to the doctrine of Ques-
nay while trying to refute, in his Ephémérides, the
letters of Le Trosne, barrister of the king in the
bailiwick of Orleans, and who wielded at an early
day a vigorous pen in the phalanx of the econo-
mists. Baudeau published in 1771, l'Introduction
d la Philosophie économique. It is not only one of
the most remarkable of his writings; but in it he
surpassed Mercier, and a fortiori Mirabeau, in his
method, clearness and style. The year before he
had published in the Ephémérides, and printed Sep-
arately (but only a small number of copies of it) his
l’Evplication du tableau èconomique. About the
same time there appeared in the Ephémérides,
whose management Baudeau had intrusted to Du-
pont de Nemours, two short catechisms of the doc-
trine, one by Turgot, without his signature, and
the other under the name of the margrave of Ba-
den. Turgot's short Traité on the formation and
distribution of wealth, is remarkable in every way.
It is a résumé of the ideas of Quesnay and Gour-
may, as explained by their most eminent disciple.
It would be approximately a résumé of the general
principles of the science laid down by Smith, if
Turgot had not stopped at the physiocratic theory,
on a fundamental point, that of the productive-
ness of the different kinds of labor, in consequence
of which he was led to make the agricultural
class the productive class par eacellence, and the
rest of mankind the Salaried class, excepting, how-
ever, landowners, whom he calls the disposable
class, disposable for the general wants of Society,
such as war, the administration of justice, etc.
Turgot's book, written in 1766, appeared for the
first time in vols. 11 and 12 of the Ephémérides,
toward the end of 1769 and the commencement
of 1770.* The brief compendium of the mar-
grave of Baden, published in 1772, in the Ephé-
mérides du citoyen, which has also been attributed
to Dupont de Nemours, and is perhaps the work
of the two disciples, is not of equal importance,
but is remarkable in many regards. It contains
the principles of the physiocratic school, more
abridged than in Turgot's work, condensed into
formulae synoptically arranged, and, as Dupont de
|
* The date of this publication is important in the history
of the science. We have remarked, in an essay relating to
the origin and filiation of the term political economy (Jour-
mal des Economistes, vol. xxiii., pp. 11, 217): “Eugene Daire,
after stating (xlv. of his Introduction to the ‘Works of
Turgot,” in the Collection des principawa; Economistes) that
this work was printed about 1766, inclines us to believe in
the notice of Mercier de la Rivière (same vol., p. 430), that
this date is not exact, and that Turgot's treatise appeared
later. Eugene Daire was mistaken a second time; we have
before us a copy of the edition of 1766 in 12mo.” If Eugene
Daire was mistaken, it was only in part, and we ourselves
are also mistaken. The volume of which we speak, bore the
last date which we mention; but this date points to the
time when Turgot was writing, during his intendancy. The
first edition seems to have been the separate one formed
of the article in the Ephémérides, part of which appeared in
the 11th vol., at the end of 1769, and a part in the 12th vol., at
the commencement of 1770. - -
Nemours says, in the form of a genealogical tree.
The title is a very curious one for the time, and
leads us to suppose that the school and its master,
who was still living, had abandoned the word
physiocracy for the title political, economy, not in
the Sense of administration as a synonym of pub-
lic economy, the olconomia of Aristotle, which is
to Society what domestic economy is to the family
(in which sense it was employed by Rousseau in
1755, in the article Economie Politique of the En-
cyclopédie), but in a scientific sense, to designate
the science of the phenomena relating to wealth
and human labor; a sense in which it had been
used by James Stewart after 1767, who entitled his
treatise on these subjects “An Inquiry into the
Principles of Political Economy,” and, some
years before, by Count Verri, in a work published
in 1763, and entitled, Memorie Storiche Sulla, Econ-
omia publica dello stato di Milano (Historical
memoirs relative to the political economy of the
state of Milan). Verri and Stewart seem to have
been the first to adopt the name most generally
given to the science in our time, a name which
Turgot did not employ, which was scarcely ever
used by Adam Smith, and which appeared only
in the dictionary of the French academy in 1814,
although it appeared in a book at the commence-
ment of the sixteenth century, which, however,
does not answer to its title, the Traité de l’OEcon-
omże politique, by Antoyne de Montchrétien. —
After these various authoritative publications of
the physiocratic school we cite, in conclusion, the
principal work of Le Trosne; which appeared in
1777, under the title, De l'ordre social, followed by
an elementary treatise on value, circulation, in-
dustry, and home and foreign commerce. This
work contains two very distinct parts: the first,
consisting of a series of lectures, is a dogmatic
exposition of the principles of the school. In the
second part, which bears the special title De
l’Intérêt social, Le Trosne treats of value, circula-
tion, industry, home and foreign commerce, with
a remarkable understanding of these different
subjects. – This was the last general manifesto of
the pure physiocratic school, properly so called.
When it appeared, Quesnay was dead; Turgot
was a minister, and had anticipated great reforms
in the constitution of labor, which were to be
effected by the constituent assembly, and Adam
Smith had published his book after ten years of
retirement, and of meditation on this great work.
– W. Political Ideas of the Physiocrates. Having
reached this point in our historical deduction
concerning the physiocrates, we must direct the
attention of the reader for an instant to the polit-
ical ideas held by this phalanx of philosophers,
or which were attributed to them. Mercier-La
Rivière, discussing the purely political question
of the form of government, decided in favor of
the power of one man. Dupont explains to us
the principal motive which, according to him,
Mercier-La Rivière and the abbé Baudeau had in
accepting such a doctrine, “thinking,” he says,
‘‘ that it would be easier to persuade a prince than
196
PHYSIOCRATES.
a nation,” and that one man would be quicker to
put in practice the teachings of science. We do
not wish to stop and ask ourselves whether Mer-
cier and Baudeau were right or wrong, or what
are the dangers of despotism and the drawbacks
of mixed or representative governments. We
wish to say simply that Mercier-La Rivière was
careful to distinguish between arbitrary despotism,
or despotism proper, which he rejects, and legal des-
potism, which he favors, and a counterpoise for
which he finds in the authority of the magistracy;
the form and invariable proportion of the taxes,
“ the evidence ’’ of the truths of natural law made
familiar to the mass of citizens by national edu-
cation, and the interest of sovereigns, to be just
in a system such as he conceived it. It is not dif-
ficult to see, in reading this philosopher, that he was
of a liberal mind. It must also be remembered
that he wrote a hundred years ago, when the the-
ory and practice of free government were still in
their infancy. However this may be, it is to be
regretted that he was led to construct a political
theory not necessarily connected with his subject,
which was an explanation of the general princi-
ples of law and justice, common to all societies,
independent of the form and mechanism of their
governments; it is especially to be regretted that
to designate the power of a single man, he used a
word to which usage has given a bad meaning,
which does not express his thought, and which
has served as a pretext to many of his adversaries,
who, in order to divert attention from his eco-
nomic ideas and thereforms which they demanded,
accused those ideas of being and professing to be
the upholders of despotism. — The question has
been raised whether Mercier-La Rivière was under
the influence of Quesnay, or whether he expresses
his personal ideas and those of Baudeau. It is
difficult to say what was precisely the idea of the
master on this subject; but it is certainly true
that if Quesnay and the marquis de Mirabeau in-
clined to the executive and legislative power of
one man, all their writings show that in their
minds and hearts there never could be a question
of sacrificing to a family or to an aristocracy the
interests of the masses, who were the object which
preoccupied their noble thoughts. We can not
appeal, on this point, to the practice of their
lives. Quesnay died in 1774; the marquis de Mira-
beau, on the eve of the revolution, in 1788; Bau-
deau and Mercier-La Rivière lived on, the one till
1792, the other till 1794, it is said; but they were
not of the age to mix in the questions of the time.
Moreover, if we admit, which is far from being
proved, that any physiocrates went astray, on this
point, in theory—the political life of Malesherbes
and Turgot; the administrative acts of the latter,
of the Gournays and Trudaines; the parliamentary
career of Dupont de Nemours; the manly and
impartial writings against feudal abuses; monopoly
of the finances and other monopolies, as well as
the biographical details which have been preserved
concerning the public conduct of all those who
have been put on the witness stand, prove that true
political progress would have had warm friends in
each One of these zealous promoters of economic
progress (whatever might have been the party
with which they were connected), the more useful
to the cause of humanity for being better informed
on the real wants of men living in society, and
imbued with the principles of a sounder philoso-
phy based on the better natural foundation of
human affairs. Just here we would make a general
observation, to wit : that one of the results of
economic studies is to lessen the importance of
one form of government or another in the minds
of men devoted to these studies. But is not this
a benefit? The day when the governing and the
governed shall understand better what they owe
each other; the day when governments shall know
how to restrict their action to their natural sphere,
the maintenance of Security and the guarantee
of justice, property and liberty; the day when the
governed will no longer believe in fantastic prom-
ises, and no longer demand the fulfillment of im-
practicable programmes; on that day civilization
will have made a great step in the way of prog-
ress. – VI. The Physiocrates as the Founders of
Economic Science, and their Influence on the Econ-
omic Progress attained. It is always difficult to tell
precisely how far the influence of a philosophic
and scientific school reaches, because in such a
subject causes and effects often escape the mind
of the observer. After what we have said, how-
ever, a sufficient estimate can be made of the im-
portance of the labors of the physiocratic school
in philosophy and in morals, and of the services
which it rendered in the ranks of the philosophic
school, by its studies and its knowledge of society.
As to political economy proper, the details into
which we have entered show that if the physio-
crates were not the first and only founders of the
Science, as has been frequently asserted, they de-
serve to figure in the front rank of its founders,
and here we recoil from a task which remains
yet to be accomplished, and which consists in
investigating and describing the reciprocal influ-
ence which Adam Smith may have had upon the
physiocrates during his visit to Paris, and which
the physiocrates may have had upon him by
their conversation and writings. We are unable
here to settle the question of priority between
the Scotch philosopher and the French philoso-
phers; but we may state, with Cousin, that it is
difficult to answer it in favor of them rather
than of him while we believe it our duty to ac-
knowledge that the physiocrates and Adam Smith
are under great obligations to certain writers who
preceded them in their career, Boisguillebert,
David Hume, etc., whom we have cited above.
Be this as it may, account must be taken of
this important fact, that while writing his book,
Smith was able to take advantage of the prin.
cipal works of the school, especially those of
Quesnay, and that its most important utterances
were published earlier than the appearance of the
“Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the
Wealth of Nations.” — The question raised as to
PHYSIOCRATES.
197
the sequence of facts, that is to say, the legislative
traces which the physiocratic school has left after
it, its action and its propagandism, might also
be made the subject of very interesting research
which has not, we think, been made. We can,
however, give a satisfactory account, in résumé,
of this influence. In a general way the physio-
cratic school contributed greatly to overthrow the
spirit of administrative routine which progress
always encounters in its path; to overthrow the
spirit of regulation and prohibition which had
thrown a deadening net of hindrances over every
branch of human activity; it contributed greatly
to effect the suppression of provincial customs
duties, and to help the freedom of internal com-
merce; it aided the fall of the system of corpora-
tions, and the freedom of labor; it abolished the
corvée; and finally, it contributed to all the liberal
and progressive measures of the constituent assem-
bly. The majority of that assembly voted under
the influence of the economic ideas which several
members had gained by meeting and reading
the works of the physiocratic philosophers, while
they incriminated, and allowed others to incrimi-
nate, the economists, as Dupont de Nemours says,
just as has often happened since in other assem-
blies. During the twenty years which preceded
the revolution, it was in their writings and their
ideas that many influential men, princes, minis-
ters, governors, intendants of provinces, inspectors
of manufactures, etc., found inspiration, both to
establish the financial system and to improve the
internal administration and the management of
foreign affairs; it was they who won the freedom
of the corn trade, on which the school published a
score of books. It was not, therefore, their fault
(Droz has shown this well in his Histoire de Louis
A VI.) that the economic, financial, and even po-
litical reforms were not accomplished in season, in
peace and without revolution. Every one has
read of the brilliant efforts of Turgot. — The phy-
Siocratic school has exercised its influence not in
France alone, but in all Europe. This influence
may be traced in Italy, and especially in Tuscany,
which owes its prosperity to the principles of in-
dustrial and commercial freedom, put in practice
by the grand duke Leopold, assisted by intelligent
ministers, such as Gianni and Fabroni; in several
states of the north and Germany, particularly in
Austria, where the administration of the emperor
Joseph II., as well as that of this same Leopold,
have left such regretable souvenirs. Gustavus
III., king of Sweden, Stanislaus Augustus, king of
Poland, the margrave of Baden, and the dauphin
son of Louis XV., were inclined to the ideas of
the economists. We know that Catherine of Rus-
sia desired to consult Mercier-La Rivière, and al-
though the meeting of the philosopher and the
empress came to a rather grotesque conclusion,
she testified to the credit of the school. This in-
fluence was also felt in international relations and
treaties. After the conclusion of the treaty of
1786 between France and England, on liberal and
rational bases, whatever may have been system-
atically said of it in a private and ill-advised inter-
est, Lord Lansdowne, prime minister of Great
Britain, who, up to that time, was opposed to the
peace, declared that he had been converted to
better political and economic opinions by the
reasoning and influence of the abbé Morellet,
whom he had known at Paris, and whose prin-
ciples, as we have said, were no other than those
of Gournay and Quesnay. — The labors of the
physiocratic school have also given indirectly a
vigorous impulse to statistics. It was in answer
to l'Ami des hommes that La Michodière and
Messence undertook the investigations which are
among the first monuments of modern statistics.
— VII. Adversaries and Partisans of the Phys-
$ocrates. The economists, with their enthusiasm
for their master, and intolerance, born of the
Spirit of sect and the inflexibility of principles,
so naturally consequent on a fixed conviction
and conscientious studies, drew on themselves
many attacks, either from the circle of philoso-
phers of which they themselves formed a part,
from men of letters, or from all those whose ideas,
prejudices or interests they opposed. Specimens
of the polemics of the time are found in the
writings of Grimm, Mallet-Dupan, Linguet and
Others, an example of which we produced above.
Voltaire directed against them the satire of
l'Homme aua, quarante écus, morewitty than solid;
the aged philosopher, however, felt dominated by
the genius of Turgot, and we know that he took
up his pen to aid him against the numerous and
unjust attacks of which he was the object on
account of his measures to secure the free circula-
tion of corn. — Among the most prominent we
must cite les Doutes proposés awa, philosophes écon-
omistes, by Mably, 1768; a book by Graslin, in
1767; the famous “Dialogues” of the abbé Galiani
concerning legislation on corn (1770), and a work
on the same subject, by Necker, 1770. The first
two, though more serious, have no great value.
Necker’s work, which Turgot's enemies praised to
the skies, was a political maneuvre which does
no honor to the celebrated minister, for it is full
of communistic sophisms. Galiani’s book, much
lauded for its style and wit, has no scientific value,
and does not even reach a conclusion on the
special point of the exportation of corn, a crime
of the economists, which he did not entirely dis-
approve. — Some modern economists have taken
sides with the physiocrates in their theory of the
nature of wealth and agriculture : we mention
Dutens, in France, who published a new explana-
tion of the doctrines of Quesnay, under the title of
JPhilosophie d’Economie politique, 1835; and Schmalz
in Germany, who undertook the same task, ten
years earlier. — Malthus, in his “Principles of
Political Economy,” started out with the material-
ity of value, and dwelt much on rent; and Eugene
Daire, who has left remarkable notices and notes
on the physiocrates, Turgot and Adam Smith,
in the Collection des Principawa, Economistes, also
maintains the materiality of value, and undertakes
to show not only the truth of these principles, but
198 PICKERING.
PINCKNEY.
also that of the agricultural theory of Quesnay,
as well as the analogy between Smith’s ideas
and those of Turgot and Quesnay. We shall not
enter into this long and delicate discussion : we
shall only say that Smith has not pronounced very
positively in favor of the materiality of value,
although there is on this point a want of clear-
ness as to his opinion; that he has only tried to
show the productiveness of all industries, and has
devoted several chapters to opposing the physio-
cratic doctrine of land. Whether he has succeeded,
as the majority of economists pretend, or nearly
failed, as others pretend, is a question which can
be answered only in a course on political economy,
and for that there is no place here. — The reader
will find the subject which we have just treated
further developed in the lives of the men we have
named. We can refer also to a chapter, too brief,
unfortunately, in Blanqui's “History of Political
Economy” [translated by Miss Emily J. Leonard];
to the lectures in which Rossi treats of land; to the
notices by Eugene Daire, in the Collection des Prin-
cipawa, Economistes; to his memoir in answer to
the questions offered for competition, crowned in
1847 by the academy of moral and political science,
a statement from which, inserted in the Journal des |.
H]conom?stes, we have reproduced above; to the
report of Passy on this memoir, published in the
same collection; and to a paper on the philosophy
of the physiocrates, published in the same collec-
tion, by H. Baudrillart. JOSEPH GARNIER.
PICKERING, Timothy, was born at Salem,
Mass., July 17, 1745, and died there, Jan. 29,
1829. He was graduated at Harvard in 1763,
was admitted to the bar, entered the revolutionary
army, and became adjutant general and quarter-
master general. (See also ORDINANCE OF 1787.)
Under the administrations of Washington and
John Adams he was successively postmaster
general, secretary of war, and secretary of state.
(See ADMINISTRATIONs, I.-III.) After a brief re-
tirement to a farm in Pennsylvania, he returned
to Massachusetts in 1802, and served as United
States senator (federalist) 1803–11, and congress-
man 1813–17. He then retired permanently from
politics. – From 1798 until his death, Pickering's
political life was a perennial conflict with the
Adams family. He had been dismissed from
John Adams' cabinet for endeavoring to force
the president into the Hamilton policy. (See
ADAMs, JOHN; X Y Z MISSION.) As senator,
he and his colleague, John Quincy Adams, quar-
reled over the latter's support of the embargo.
Thereafter he was engaged in frequent newspa-
per and pamphlet wars with both of his old op-
ponents. The particulars may be found in the
“Correspondence between John Adams and Will-
iam Cunningham,” published in 1823, and Pick-
ering’s “Observations” upon it, in 1824. Picker-
ing is the New England federalist most strongly
suspected of favoring Secession in 1805–9. (See
SECESSION, I.) — See Upham and Pickering's Life
of Pickering; North American Review, July, 1874;
9 John Adams' Works, 55. A personal descrip-
tion of Pickering is in 1 Schouler's United States,
191, 302. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
PIERCE, Franklin, president of the United
States 1853–7, was born at Hillsborough, N. H.,
Nov. 23, 1804, and died at Concord, N. H., Oct.
8, 1869. He was graduated at Bowdoin in 1824,
was admitted to the bar in 1827, and immediately
entered politics as a democrat, serving in the .
lower house of the state legislature 1829–33, as
congressman 1833–7, and as United States senator
1837–42. In the Mexican war he became brigadier
general. In 1852 he was elected president. (See
DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN PARTY, W.; ELECTO-
RAL WOTEs, XVII.) For the leading events of
his term, see KANSAS-NEBRASKA BILL; KANSAs;
FILIBUSTERING ; OSTEND MANIFESTO ; UNITED
STATES, III. After the close of his term he re-
mained in retirement until his death, except for
certain letters and addresses during the rebellion,
passionately denouncing the coercion of the se-
ceding states and the general conduct of the war.
— See Bartlett's Life of Pierce (1852); Hawthorne's
Life of Pierce (1852); 3 Statesman's Manual, 1993.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
PINCKNEY, Charles Cotesworth, son of
chief justice Pinckney, of South Carolina, was
born at Charleston, S. C., , 1746, and died
there Aug. 16, 1825. He was educated at West-
minster and Oxford, studied law at the Temple,
and began practice in South Carolina in 1769.
He distinguished himself in the revolutionary
war, being thereafter known as Gen. Pinckney;
and was a member of the convention of 1787.
Under the new government he declined succes-
sively the positions of supreme court justice in
1789; secretary of war in 1795, and secretary of
state in the same year. In 1797–8 he was minister
and commissioner to France (see X Y Z Mrs-
SION), and while there is said to have given the
reply to French demands for money: “Millions for
defense, but not one cent for tribute.” In 1800
he was the alternate federalist candidate for the
presidency. The democrats in the South Carolina
legislature offered to unite with the federalists in
casting the electoral vote of the state for Jefferson
and Pinckney, which would have made the latter.
vice-president, but Pinckney refused the offer, and
was defeated with Adams. In 1804 and 1808 the
federalist votes were given for him as candidate
for president. (See FEDERAL PARTY, II.)— See
Allen's Biographical Dictionary.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
PINCKNEY, Thomas, brother of the prece-
ding, was born at Charleston, S. C., Oct. 23, 1750,
and died there Nov. 2, 1828. He was graduated
at Oxford, studied law at the Temple in London,
returned to South Carolina, and began practice
there in 1773. He was governor of his state
1787–9, minister to Great Britain 1792–6, and
minister to Spain 1794–5. In 1796 he was the
PIRACY.
199
federalist candidate, alternate to John Adams,
for the presidency (see CAUCUS, CONGRESSIONAL;
ELECTORAL WOTEs); and he was a federalist
congressman 1797–1801. During the war of 1812
he was major general in command of the southern
military division. — See Allen's Biographical Dic-
tionary. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
PIRACY is robbery committed by force of
arms at sea. It was formerly much more frequent
than it is now. It still exists, however, and it is
likely that so long as there shall be highwaymen,
there will be pirates; although it is much more
difficult to equip a vessel to scour the ocean than
to lie in ambush at the edge of a road or at the
corner of the deserted streets of a large town, to
rob a passer-by. Even in comparatively late
years the Chinese seas were infested with pirates.
This sort of robbery can be practiced only by an
association of criminals; it has, too, this pecul-
iarity, that entire hordes have been known to take
to it, notably in the Barbary states before the
conquest of Algeria, and even now from time to
time on the Morocco coasts. Thus, it is always
liable to happen, at the very time when Christian
nations believe that safety reigns over all the seas,
that buccaneers will dash from some unsuspected
lair, and before repression can be organized, will
have had time to plunder a large number of
peaceable merchants. Within a few centuries,
doubtless, when European civilization, enlighten-
ing even the remotest lands, shall have civilized
the entire world, no barbarous tribe will be longer
able to escape the action of a regular government,
and piracy will lose many of its chances of suc-
cess; but it may also, by an excess of audacity,
organize in the midst of a civilized nation; and
consequently, notwithstanding the gradual disap-
pearance of this scourge, it can not be asserted
that we shall ever attain to an absolute riddance
of it. — The early Greeks were nearly all pirates.
M. Cauchy remarks (Droit Maritime International,
1862, vol. i., p. 180) that in ancient times the
slave trade was one of the most powerful incen-
tives to piracy, both public and private. Nei-
ther the Grecian states, when they had become
civilized, nor Rome, appears to have had a naval
force intended to protect their commerce against
sea robbers. Piracy flourished also in the Med-
iterranean; it attained an extraordinary develop-
ment during the civil wars of the Roman repub-
lic. These robbers formed at this period an im-
mense confederation, the headquarters of which
were on the hilly shores of Cilicia. They came
very near starving Rome by intercepting the
convoys of corn, and Pompey had to be charged
with the destruction of their power. In order to
prevent the recurrence of so disastrous a state of
affairs, the Roman emperors maintained public
fleets (M. Cauchy, loc. cit., p. 115), as all modern
nations have done since. If we should cease to
plow the seas with ships of war, it is probable that
piracy would be revived in many parts of the
world. Privateering gave rise, at the end of the
Seventeenth century, to an association of buc-
caneers, in parts of the Antilles, whose ravages
rivaled the robberies of the ancient pirates of
Cilicia. The difference between the corsair and
the buccaneer is not sufficiently obvious in respect
to these bold adventurers; for if the former
Carries his sovereign's flag, while the latter is out-
side of international law, both fight for booty.
The abolition of privateering, proclaimed by the
declaration of April 16, 1856, will thus aid in
Causing piracy to disappear more and more. —
The repression of piracy concerns international
law as well as the public law of each nation. It
generally happens, indeed, that the pirate and the
captor are not subjects of the same sovereign, and
that the Crime has been committed on the vast ex-
panse of Sea which has no master and where no
jurisdiction exists. The principal laws of the
ancien régime in France, against piracy, are the
decree of March, 1584, the declaration of Feb. 1,
1650, and the naval ordonmance of 1681; since the
French revolution the matter has been regulated
by the order of the second of prairial, year XI.,
and the law of April 10, 1825, entitled, “Ilaw
for the safety of navigation and maritime com-
merce.” The ordom mance of 1681 and the law of
1825 have solved the difficulty which we have
just indicated, by putting pirates outside of inter-
national law; they are considered as public ene-
mies, and are amenable to the tribunals of their
captor. Any vessel taking to piracy without let-
ters of marque from any prince, or with letters
of marque from two princes, is liable to seizure
as a pirate. And further, the vessel which com-
mits hostilities under any other flag than that
under which it is commissioned, is to be regard-
ed as a pirate. The laws respecting piracy are
made by each nation in the interest of all the
others. It matters little that the captor has not
been attacked. The pirate may be justly seized.
for having attacked any vessel whatsoever, even
foreign to the nationality of the captor. This is
the remarkable feature in the legislation on piracy.
The law appears to us unjust which punishes as a
pirate a vessel to which nothing could be imputed
but the lack of papers. It must be observed,
however, that there is in such a case only a pre-
sumption, which must yield to proof of the con-
trary, but this is already too much, and here, as
in all penal law, guilt is not to be assumed, and
it is for the accuser, not the accused, to furnish the
proof. — Grotius thinks (book ii., chap. xx., § 40)
that a government has the right not only to avenge
its wrongs, but even the offenses which violate
international law, whomsoever they may concern.
“And it is even,” says he, “as much more praise-
worthy to avenge the wrongs of others rather
than one’s own, as it is to be feared, in those which
affect us, that the resentment which we feel
might make us pass beyond the limits of a just
vengeance.” We adopt fully this principle of the
illustrious publicist, proclaimed before him by St.
Augustine in the “City of God,” which appears
to us one of the foundations of international law.
200
PIRACY.
A nation has the right to declare war against a
government which violates international justice,
even when such violation does not directly harm
it. Thus, any nation may lawfully make war on
a piratical people, even if its commerce has not
suffered from their depredations.”—BIBLIOGRA-
* Kent, in his Commentaries (vol. i., p. 183), gives the
following definition of piracy: “Piracy is robbery, or a
forcible depredation on the high seas, without lawful author-
ity, and done animofurandi, and in the spirit and intention
of universal hostility. It is the same offense at sea with
robbery on land; and all the writers on the law of nations,
and on the maritime law of Europe, agree in this definition
of piracy.” Further on he continues: “They (pirates) ac-
quire no rights by conquest; and the law of nations, and
the municipal law of every country, authorize the true
owner to reclaim his property taken by pirates, wherever it
can be found; and they do not recognize any title to be de-
rived from an act of piracy. The principle, that a piratis
et latronibus capta domânăum non mutant, is the received
opinion of ancient civilians and modern writers on general
jurisprudence; and the same doctrine was maintained in the
English courts of common law, prior to the great modern
improvements made in the science of the law of nations.”—
By the constitution of the United States, congress is author-
ized to define and punish piracies and felonies committed on
the high seas, and offenses against the law of nations. In
pursuance of this authority it was declared, by the act of
congress of April 30, 1790, c. 9, sec. 8, that murder or rob-
bery, committed on the high seas, or in any river, haven or
bay, out of the jurisdiction of any particular state, or any
other offense which, if committed within the body of a
county, would, by the laws of the United States, be punish-
able with death, should be adjudged to be piracy and felony,
and punishable with death. It was further declared, that if
any captain or mariner should piratically and feloniously
run away with any vessel, or any goods or merchandise to
the value of fifty dollars, or should yield up any such vessel
voluntarily to pirates; or if any seaman should forcibly
endeavor to hinder his commander from defending the ship
or goods committed to his trust, or should make a revolt in
the ship—every such offender should be adjudged a pirate
and felon, and be punishable with death. [By the act of
congress of March 3, 1835, c. 313, the offense of making a
revolt in a ship is no longer punishable as a capital offense,
but only by fine, and imprisonment at hard labor.] Acces-
sories to such piracies before the fact are punishable in like
manner; but accessories after the fact are only punishable
by fine and imprisonment. And by the act of March 3, 1819,
c. 76, Sec. 5, congress declared, that if any person on the
high seas should commit the crime of piracy, as defined by
the law of nations, he should, on conviction, suffer death.
This act was but temporary in its limitation, and has expired;
but it was again declared, and essentially to the same effect,
by the act of congress of May 15, 1820, c. 113, sec. 3, that
“if any person, upon the high seas, or in any open road-
stead, or bay, or river, where the sea ebbs and flows, com-
mits the crime of robbery in and upon any vessel, or the
lading thereof, or the crew, he shall be adjudged a pirate.
So, if any person engaged in any piratical enterprise, or
belonging to the crew of any piratical vessel, should land.
and commit robbery on shore, such an offender shall also be
adjudged a pirate.” According to a decision of the United
States Supreme court, robbery on the high seas is piracy by
the act of Congress, as well as by the law of nations. – Kent
holds, that it is of no importance, for the purpose of giving
jurisdiction, On whom Or where a piratical offense has been
committed. “A pirate, who is one by the law of nations,
may be tried and punished in any country where he may be
found, for he is reputed to be out of the protection of all
laws and privileges. The statute of any government may
declare an offense committed on board its own vessels to be
piracy, and Such an offense will be punishable exclusively
by the nation which passes the statute. But piracy, under
the law of nations, is an offense against all nations, and pun-
ishable by all.” “An alien, under the sanction of a national
commission, can not commit piracy while he pursues his
authority. His acts may be hostile, and his nation respon-
PHY. Broglie, Sur la piraterie (Eerits, vol. iii.,
p. 385); Phillimore, International Law, vol. i., pp.
394-406; Wildman, International Law, vol. ii., p.
150; Wheaton, International Law, §124; Heffter,
Völkerrecht, § 104; Esperson, Dirîtto diplomatico,
vol. ii., pp. 2, 12; Gareis, Das heutige Volkerrecht
'u. der Menschem handel, 1879. F. A. HELLE.
sible for them. They may amount to a lawful cause of war,
but they are never to be regarded as piracy.” “If a natural-
born subject was to take prizes belonging to his native
country in pursuance of a foreign commission, he would, on
general principles, be protected by his commission from the
charge of piracy. But to prevent the mischief of such con-
duct, the United States have followed the provisions of the
English statute of 11 and 12 William III., c. 7, and the general
practice of other nations, and have, by the act of congress
of April 30, 1790, sec. 9, declared, that, if any citizen should
commit any act of hostility against the United States, or any
citizen thereof, upon the high seas, under color of any com-
mission from any foreign prince or state, or on pretense of
authority from any person, such offender shall be adjudged
to be a pirate, felon and robber, and, on being thereof con-
victed, shall suffer death. The act of congress not only
authorizes a capture, but a condemnation in the courts of
the United States, for all piratical aggressions by foreign
vessels; and whatever may be the responsibility incurred
by the nation to foreign powers, in executing such laws,
there can be no doubt that courts of justice are bound to
obey and administer them. All such hostile and criminal
aggressions on the high seas, under the flag of any power,
render property taken in delicto subject to confiscation by
the law of nations.”—By the ancient common law of Eng-
land, piracy, if committed by a subject, was held to be a spe-
cies of treason, being contrary to his matural allegiance; and
by an alien to be felony only: but since the statute of trea-
sons (25 Edw. III., c. 2), it is held to be only felony in a sub-
ject. Formerly this offense was only cognizable by the ad-
miralty courts, which proceed by the rules of the civil law;
but it being inconsistent with the liberties of the nation that
a man’s life should be taken away unless by the judgment
of his peers, the statute 28 Henry VIII., c. 15, established a
new jurisdiction for this purpose, which proceeds according
to the course of the common law. It was formerly a ques-
tion whether the Algerines and other African states should be
considered pirates; but however exceptionable their conduct
might have been on many occasions, and however hostile their
policy might be to the interests of humanity, still, as they had
been subjected to what may be called regular governments,
and admitted to enter into treaties with other powers, they
could not be treated as pirates. (M*Culloch.) — What consti-
tutes piracy, in violation of the law of nations, is not uniform-
ly fixed everywhere. It is questioned whether (as according
to English common law) self-interested design must be the
motive of the attack. A majority of modern writers have an-
swered this question in the negative. Another undecided
question is, whether piracy may be committed by a mutinous
crew against the vessel on which they serve. Acts of violence
committed by duly authorized privateers against hostile, or,
bona fide, against neutral, merchantmen, are not considered
as piracy. Different from the crime of piracy, in violation of
the law of nations, is the crime of piracy which is mentioned
in and punished by the criminal laws of some countries. The
description of the facts which constitute these two different
kinds of crime may become doubtful, as when a party, being
in a state of insurrection, and recognized as “belligerent " by
the neutral powers, injures the maritime commerce of the oth-
er party in the course of a civil war. The slave trade, too, is
to be considered piracy, according to the laws of Seafaring
nations, and according to the treaties which have been con-
cluded for the purpose of suppressing that nefarious trade;
but where the right to search suspected vessels on the high
seas is denied to vessels under foreign flags, the punishing
of the guilty in accordance with the provisions in relation
to piracy can not be carried out practically. It is a strange
fact, as compared with other codes, that Sec. 4 of the Ger-
man criminal code does not enumerate piracy among the
crimes committed in foreign countries, which may be pun-
ished. (Holtzendorff.) .
PLENTY AND DEARTH.
201
PLENTY AND DEARTH. Political economy,
in so far as it is an exposition of principles and
facts, is a vast and noble science, searching into
the affairs of the social mechanism and the func-
tions of each of the parts composing those ani-
mate and marvelous Organizations called human
societies. It studies the general laws in accord-
ance with which the human race increases in
numbers, wealth, intelligence and morality; and
yet, recognizing a social as well as a personal
freedom of will, it shows how the laws of Prov-
idence may be misunderstood and set at naught,
what a terrible responsibility there is on those who
tamper with them, and how, as the result of so do-
ing, civilization may be checked, impeded, driven
back, and stified for a long time. — Incredible as
it may seem, this science, so vast and lofty as an
exposition of principles and facts, is, when con-
troverted and compelled to become polemical,
nearly reduced to the ungrateful task of demon-
strating the proposition, almost childish in its
simplicity, that “Plenty is better than dearth”:
because, looked at closely, it will be seen that the
greater number of the objections to, and doubts
concerning, political economy, involve the princi-
ple that dearth or scarcity is preferable to plenty,
which is the real meaning to be deduced from the
phrases, once and in part still so popular, such
as “Production is excessive,” “We are being de-
stroyed by plethora,” “All the markets are over-
stocked, and every business and profession is
overcrowded,” “The capacity to consume can no
longer keep pace with the power to produce,”
etc. — These ideas, too, are not confined to any
class. One man opposes the use of machines on
the ground that those triumphs of human inge-
nuity multiply indefinitely the power of produc-
tion. What does he fear? Abundance. A sec-
Ond favors protection, lamenting the liberality
of nature's gifts to other lands, dreading that
through the influence of free trade his own should
share it, and thinking that were it to do so it
would be afflicted by the scourge of the invasion
and inundation of foreign products. What does
he fear? Abundance. Statesmen, even, are not
free from the hallucination, though they fear
abundance for a different reason. Their dread is,
that the masses, as the result of being too well off,
will become revolutionary and seditious, and as a
means of repressing them, they look to heavy taxa-
tion, vast armies, a lavish expenditure, and a pow-
erful aristocracy charged with the task of remedy-
ing by its pomp and profusion the intrusive abun-
dance of human industry. What do such states-
men fear? Abundance. Finally, we have logi-
Cians who, disdaining all by-paths, go straight to
the point, and advise periodical destruction of
large cities by fire or otherwise, that labor may
have the opportunity to rebuild them. What do
they fear? Abundance.— It seems impossible that
Such ideas should come into the minds of men,
and sometimes even prevail, not in the personal
practice of men, but in their theories and in their
legislation. For, if there be anything evidently
true, it is this, that, so far at least as useful arti-
cles are concerned, it is better to have than to
be without them; and if it is incontestable that
plenty is an evil when it exists in things that are
mischievous, destructive and troublesome, such
as grasshoppers, caterpillars, vermin, "vices and
malarial vapors, it must be equally true that it
is a blessing as regards things which meet wants
and Satisfy desires ; things which man seeks,
strives for, with the sweat of his brow; things
which he is willing to buy by work or exchange,
and which possess a real value, such as food,
clothing, shelter, works of art, means of loco-
motion, Of Communication, of instruction, and of
amusement; in a word, all that political economy
busies itself with. —If it be desired to compare
the civilization of two peoples, or of two ages,
statistics are appealed to, to inform us which had,
in proportion to its population, most means of
subsistence, the greatest returns in agricultural
products, in industries or art, most roads, most
canals, most libraries and museums; and the
question is settled in accordance with the com-
parative activity of consumption, that is to say, by
plenty or abundance. — It may, perhaps, be said
that it is not sufficient for products to be abun-
dant; that it is further necessary that they be
equitably distributed. There is nothing truer
than this, but questions must not be confounded.
When we defend abundance, and our opponents
decry it, we both take as understood the words
caster's paribus, all else being.equal; that is, equity
of distribution is presupposed.— Further, it must
be observed, that abundance is in itself the cause
of proper distribution. The more abundant any-
thing is, the less value it possesses; the less its
value, the more it is within the reach of every one,
the more men are on an equality with regard to it.
We are all equal in respect to the air, because it
exists relatively to our needs and wants in in-
exhaustible abundance; we are a little less equal
in regard to water, because being less plentiful,
it possesses a certain value; still less so with re-
gard to wheat, delicate fruits, early vegetables,
rarities, their benefit becoming confined to fewer,
in an inverse ratio to their abundance. —It may
be added, to satisfy the sentimental scruples of
our times, that plenty is not a merely material
good. Wants arise among men in regular order;
they are not all equally pressing, and it may be
said that their order of priority is not the order
of dignity. The coarser wants must first be
appeased, because their satisfaction involves our
existence, and because, as rhetoricians say, “Be-
fore living worthily, we must live somehow.”
Primo vivere, deinde philosophar. —Hence it fol-
lows, that it is the abundance of the things nec-
essary for the supply of the commonest wants
which permits man more and more to spiritualize
his enjoyments, and to raise himself into the re-
gion of the true and the beautiful. He can only
devote to the perfecting of form, to the cultivation
of art, or to the investigations of thought, the
time and the energies which, as a consequence of
*
202
PLENTY AND DEARTH.
progress are no longer absorbed by the demands
of his animal existence. Abundance, the result
of long labor and patient economy, can not be
universal at the first formation of society, nor can
it, at the same time, exist as to all possible prod-
ucts, but it follows a regular order, commencing
with the material wants, and ending with the spir.
itual. Unhappy the nations when external forces,
such as governments, violently invert this natural
sequence, substitute for desires—coarse, it is true,
but imperious — others of a loftier nature, pre-
maturely awakened, change the natural direction
of labor, and disturb the equilibrium between
wants and the means of satisfying them, an equi-
librium which is the cause of all social stability.
— Moreover, were abundance a scourge, it would
be as strange as unfortunate, for easy as the
remedy is (what is easier than to abstain from pro-
ducing, or to destroy?) no one is willing to adopt
it. It is in vain that people inveigh against plenty,
Superabundance, plethora; it is in vain that they
enunciate the theory of restricted supply, that
they obtain for it the support of the law, that they
proscribe machinery, that they disturb, interfere
with and impede commerce; all this keeps no one
from working to acquire abundance. On all the
earth not a man is to be met with whose practice
is not a perpetual protest against these vain theo-
ries; not one is to be found whose sole endeavor
is not to make the most of his powers, to foster
them, to husband them, and to increase their pro-
ductive capability by the co-operation of natural
forces; not one who decries freedom in trade, but
who acts on this principle (however eager he may
be to deny others the same privilege): to buy in
cheapest market, and to sell in the dearest; so
much so, that the theory of a restricted supply,
which is so common in books, in the newspapers,
in conversation, in parliament, and by the way
in laws, is negatived and stultified by the actions
of every individual without exception, composing
the human race, which is the most incontrovertible
refutation the mind can well imagine. —But if
abundance is better than scarcity, how does it
happen that men, after having virtually decided
in favor of abundance by their action, by their
labor, and their commerce, constitute themselves
theoretically the champions of restriction, to such
an extent that they bring popular opinion to that
view, and are the originators of all sorts of re-
strictive and illiberal laws? This it remains for
us to explain. At bottom, what we are all aim-
ing at is, that each of our efforts should realize
for us the greatest possible amount of benefit. If
we were not by nature sociable, if we lived in
individual isolation, we could know one rule only
for attaining this object, to work, more and better,
which implies progressive abundance. But, by
means of exchange and its consequence, the divi-
sion of labor, it is not directly to ourselves but to
others that we consecrate our labor, our efforts,
our productions and our services. Hence it fol-
lows, that without losing sight of the rule, pro-
duce more, we have another always present to our
minds, produce more value; for on that depends.
the amount of remuneration which we shall re-
ceive for Our services. Now, to produce more, and
to produce more value, are by no means one and
the same thing. It is manifest that if by force or
stratagem we succeed in making greatly scarcer
the special service or product which constitutes.
our occupation, we would grow richer without
adding to our labor either in quantity or quality.
Suppose, for example, a shoemaker could, by a
mere effort of will, cause the sudden annihilation
of all the shoes in the world, excepting only those
in his own shop; or strike with paralysis every
One who knew how to use the shoemaker's tools,
he would become a Croesus ; his lot would be im-
proved, not together with the general lot of man-
kind, but in an inverse ratio to the prosperity of
all. This is the whole secret of the theory of a
Scarcity as it shows itself in restrictions, monopo-
lies and privileges. It only veils, by the use of
scientific language, that selfish sentiment which
finds a place deep in the hearts of all : competitors.
annoy me. — When any product is brought to
market, there are two circumstances which tend
equally to enhance its value : first, that there is
in the market a great abundance of articles for
which it may be exchanged, that is, a great abun.
dance of everything; and Second, a great scarcity
of articles of the same product. Now, neither of
ourselves nor through the intervention of laws
and public power, are we able to influence in the
least the first of these circumstances. Unfortu.
nately universal plenty can not be produced by
act of parliament; it must be obtained in some
other way; legislators, customs officials and re-
striction can do nothing toward it. If, then, we
wish artificially to raise the value of any article,
we must bring our energies to bear on the other
element in its value. Here individual effort is.
not quite so powerless. With laws ad hoc, an
arbitrary use of power, bayonets, chains and fet-
ters, punishment and persecution, it is not impos-
sible to drive out competition, and to create that
scarcity and artificial increase in value which is
desired. This being the condition of things, it
is easy to understand what not only can but must
happen in an age of ignorance, of barbarism, and
of unrestrained greed. Every one turns to the
legislature, and through its intervention to public
force, demanding of it the artificial creation, by
all the means at its disposal, of a scarcity in the
article he produces. The farmer demands scarcity
of corn, the cattle raiser of cattle, the iron master
of iron, the colonist of sugar, the cloth manufact-
urer of cloth, etc., etc. Each one gives the same
reasons for his demand, and the result is a body of
doctrine which may be called, the theory of Scar.
city, and public force employs fire and Sword to
secure its triumph. — But, leaving the masses thus.
forced to undergo the regimen of universal dearth,
it is easy to comprehend what a labyrinth the in-
ventors of this scheme get involved in, and what
a terrible retribution awaits their unscrupulous.
rapacity. It has been shown that as regards each
POLAND.
203
special production there are two elements of value:
first, the scarcity of similar articles; and, second,
the abundance of all which are not similar.
Now, we call special attention to this: by the very
fact that the government, the slave of individual
Selfishness, endeavors to realize the first of these
elements of value, it destroys the second. It has
Satisfied in succession the wishes of the farmer,
the cattle raiser, the iron master, the manufact-
urer, the colonist, by artificially producing a scar-
city of corn, or meat, of iron, of cloth, or of sugar,
but what is that but destroying that general abun-
dance which is the second condition of value in
each separate product. Thus, after having sub-
mitted the community to actual privation, which
Scarcity implies, it is discovered that it has not
Succeeded in catching this shadow, in laying this
Spectre, in raising this nominal value, because by
just so much as the scarcity of the article in ques-
tion operates in its favor, in the same way the
Scarcity of others neutralizes it. Is it, then, so
hard to understand that the shoemaker, of whom
we spoke above, should he succeed in destroying,
by a simple wish, all the shoes in existence except
those made by himself, would find himself no
better off, even from the ridiculous point of view
of nominal value, if at the same time, every other
thing against which shoes can be exchanged be-
came proportionately scarce? The only change
would be, that every man, our shoemaker in-
cluded, would be worse shod, worse clothed,
worse fed, and worse lodged, even if products
maintained toward each other the same relative
value. — It is necessarily so. What would be-
come of Society, if injustice, oppression, egotism,
greed and ignorance brought no punishment with
them? Luckily, it is not possible for a few men,
without its recoiling on themselves, to turn public
force and the apparatus of government to the
profit of prohibitive legislation, and to check the
universal impulse of humanity toward abundance.
FRäDíðRIC BASTIAT.
POLAND. I. Historical. Poland is a vast plain,
the centre of which is at Warsaw, on the Vistula,
and which forms the northwestern region of a pla-
teau two-thirds larger, bounded by the Baltic sea,
the Oder, the Carpathian mountains, the Black Sea,
the Borysthenes and the Dwina. The boundaries
of the state of Poland have changed, in a thousand
years, from the belt formed by the tributary rivers
of the Vistula to the circumference of the whole
plain. But the country occupied by the Polish
nation has never extended beyond the Carpathian
mountains at the South and east. No mountains
traverse Poland, only sandy hills. In the east
there are marshes; the centre is covered with for-
ests. The soil contains mineral wealth, copper,
silver, and the largest mines of rock salt in Eu-
rope. The climate is cold in the north, and tem-
perate in the south; the soil is everywhere fertile,
but nothing but wheat is produced. — The Polish
population had its origin (independently of the
Finnish or Turanian elements of pre-historic Eu-
rope) in the Slavic tribe of the Lecks, established
on the banks of the Vistula at the beginning of
the middle ages: they are called the Slaves of the
plain. They annexed to themselves, in course of
time, other Slavic nations, the principal of which
are the Lithuanians, who occupy to the northeast
of Poland a region of almost equal extent; and the
lesser Russians, established at the east and south,
in the countries called later Podolia and Galicia.
The aggregate of these nations constituted, with-
Out any considerable variation, the Polish nation-
ality; but the power of this state extended in the
west over states almost wholly Germanic; and in
the Southeast Over nations of Turkish Or Tartar
Origin, such as the Cossacks of the Ukrania.
The time of the greatest territorial extent of Po-
land was the year 1772. It was then composed of
four states: Great Poland, comprising Greater
Poland proper, Cujavia, Mazovia and Western
Prussia; Little Poland comprising Little Poland
proper, Podlaquia, Red Russia, and the Ukraine;
Lithuania, comprising Lithuania proper, White
Russia, the Black Russia of Lithuania, Iamogitia;
and finally the feudatory countries, that is to say,
the duchy of Courland and the Pomeranian dis-
tricts of Butow and Lauenburg, fiefs in the hands.
of the king of Prussia. And it was precisely this
year 1772 which saw the first dismemberment of
Poland accomplished, and the political ruin of the
nation precipitated. The causes which led to the
dissolution of the most flourishing state of east-
ern Europe are now well known. They may be
Summed up in the insufficiency of public authority
at the time when Poland was surrounded by three
military states subject to a rigorous centralization.
—The origin of this anarchy lay primarily in the
elective character of the king. The last Piast, a
king of the first dynasty, was able to secure the
throne to his nephew only by allowing the nobility
to force a stipulation upon him by which they arro-
gated to themselves Several prerogatives, such as
exemption from taxation. From that time on, the
nobility asserted their right of election, and, after
the extinction of the Jagellons, enforced it. They
swore their kings to the pacta conventa, the basis
of that Polish constitution by which, to use Wol-
taire's expression, the nobility and the clergy de-
fended their liberty against their king, and took
liberty away from the rest of the nation: “There
the peasant sows not for himself, but for lords, to
whom he and his land and all the labor of his
hands belong, and who can sell him or slay him
with the beasts of the field. All who are of gentle
blood depend only on themselves. To try them
in a criminal matter, a general assembly of the
nation is necessary; and they can be arrested only
after having been condemned. Besides, they are
scarcely ever punished. Many of the gentry are
poor, and accept service with those who are
wealthy; they receive a salary from them, perform
the lowest offices, and prefer to serve their equals
to enriching themselves by trade.” Another pecul-
iarity of this constitution was the famous right of
veto granted to the deputies or nuncios in the diets.
204
POLAND.
“Each deputy enjoys the right which the trib-
unes of the people had at Rome, of opposing the
laws of the senate. A single gentleman who
says, I protest, invalidates by this one word the
unanimous resolutions of the rest, and if he de-
parts from the place where the diet is being held,
it must then dissolve. The remedy provided for
the disorders which arise from this law is more
dangerous still. Poland is seldom without two
factions. Unanimity in the diets being thus im-
possible, each party forms a confederation, in
which they decide by a plurality of votes, with-
out any regard to the protests of the minority.
These assemblies, illegal, according to the laws,
but authorized by the laws, are held in the king's
name, although often without his consent, and
against his interests. When the dissensions are
over, it belongs to the general diets to confirm or
to annul the acts of these confederations.” (Wol-
taire.) Such a system offered only too easy pre-
texts and opportunities for the intervention of
neighboring states. From the beginning of the
elective kingship the discord was such that a
foreign prince was generally elected king, and
when, at the end of the eighteenth century, the
throne was given to a Pole, the choice was dic-
tated by foreign influence. Russia ruled for
nearly a century in the Polish councils. Her last
intervention had for its chief motive to bring
forward the situation of Russians of the Greek
church, subjects of Poland in the eastern prov-
inces, whose religious liberty was restricted or
disregarded. It was Russia which took the prin-
cipal part in the military operations against
Poland, although the first idea of the division
appears to have been expressed by Frederick II.,
king of Prussia. — The first dismemberment took
place in 1772. Austria and Prussia signed treaties
with Poland which restored to Russia, Livonia,
Polotsk, Witebsk, Meislaw and Minsk; to Prussia,
a part of Posnania, Pomerania and Warnia; and
to Austria, Galicia and Lodomiria. Poland, re-
duced to these limits, abolished her ancient gov-
ernment, and adopted, by a constitution copied
from that which France had just voted (1791),
hereditary royalty, national representation, with
two houses, the re-establishment of urban fran-
chise, and the abolition of serfdom. But this
constitution having been taxed with illegality by
the confederation of Tarjowice, assembled by
the advice of Catherine II., and at which the old
sovereignty of the equestrian order was reclaimed,
the disturbances which followed this transforma-
tion led to the interference of the Russian armies,
and the second partition of Poland (1791), which
took from her half of Lithuania, Posnania, Thorn,
and Dantzic. Poland rose in arms the following
year, and took part in the European War, but her
defeat was followed by the third partition (1794).
— A nation can not be all at once suppressed,
especially in modern times, without the conquest
giving rise to the protests of the states which
have not shared in the Spoliation, and which then
exert themselves for the re-establishment of the
dismembered nation. Poland was the subject of
two of these at least partial restorations. The
first was the work of Napoleon I., who consti-
tuted, by the treaty of Tilsit (1807), as an inde-
pendent state, at most the ancient country of
the Lecks, the basin of the Vistula, under the
title of grand duchy of Warsaw. This territory
Was taken almost entire from Prussia, defeated
at Friedland. The grand duke was the king of
Saxony. The constitution of 1792 was preserved,
in form, at all events. This creation of the grand
duchy of Warsaw was dated at Tilsit, 1807;
Prussia had nothing of Poland, but Russia kept
all the east, and Austria all the south. The war
with Austria having been renewed, the Poles
reconquered Galicia; but they were obliged in
1809 to cede a part of it to Russia, by a treaty
approved of by France. The second restoration
of Poland was the work of Europe, assembled
at the congress of Vienna. — The treaties of
1815, while keeping Posnania for Prussia, and
Galicia for Austria, gave an independent exist-
ence to the greater portion of Poland, which,
under the name of kingdom of Poland, was gov-
erned by the emperor of Russia on the principle
of personal union. This kingdom received a con-
stitution, Nov. 15–27, 1815, by virtue of which
the senate and the chamber of nuncios of the no-
bility and of deputies of the commons shared in
the legislation. The chambers had a certain initia-
tive, and suffrage was established on a much
broader basis than in the French chartres. The
Roman Catholic religion, professed by the greater
part of the inhabitants of the kingdom of Poland,
was to be the object of the peculiar care of the
government, without detracting in any way from
the liberty of other forms of religion, all of which,
without exception, might be practiced freely and
publicly, and enjoy the protection of the govern-
ment. Difference in the forms of worship made
no difference as to the enjoyment of civil and
political rights. The Senate of the kingdom of
Poland was to have as many bishops of the Roman
Catholic church as the law should establish pala-
tinates; a bishop of the Greek church had a seat
in it also. All public administrative affairs, judi-
cial and military, without exception, were to be
conducted in the Polish language. Public places,
both civil and military, could be filled only by
Poles. Cracow, with its suburbs, was also consti-
tuted a republic. The direction of its affairs was
conducted by a senate, and the legislative power
by an assembly of representatives. (Constitution
of May 3, 1815.) But a commission appointed by
the three joint powers decided everything. — The
system established by the constitution of 1815,
upon a more liberal basis than the charters of that
period, and the application of which would not
have been without difficulty under a national dy-
nasty, was naturally still more precarious in a
country lately conquered, and the dependence of
which was but slightly disguised by the so-called
system of personal union. From this time on,
Poland saw the possibility of liberty only in com-
POLAND.
205
plete separation, and sought it in four insurrec-
tions, the failure of which each time aggravated
the situation of the country. The first took place
in 1830, and was crushed the year following in
the battle of Ostrolenka and the capture of War-
saw. The Russian government adopted a series
of measures to efface the Polish nationality, the
principal of which were the abolition of judicial
power in Lithuania and Ruthenia, the suppression
of Catholic churches, forced conversions, the edu-
cation of the children in the Russian religion (in
Poland as well as in Lithuania), the substitution
of the Russian language for the Polish in public
documents and in the schools, the transportation
to St. Petersburg of the library of Warsaw, the
forced enrollment of Poles in the Russian army,
their transportation to the Caucasus, the confisca-
tion of their goods, the inquisition of officials in
families, and the transportation and forced enroll-
ment of children. A large number of Poles oni-
grated, either to other European countries, prin-
cipally France and England, or to the republic
of Cracow, on the faith of its constitution. The
Austro-Prusso - Russian commission, which had
held the town since 1815, and which had the letter
of the treaties in its favor, exacted their expulsion
from the Senate, and, as the senate refused to
obey, took their expulsion upon itself. The accu-
mulation of resentment burst out in a revolution
some years afterward (1846). Associations cover-
ing all Poland, delegated authority to a dictator-
ship of five, who proclaimed, at Cracow, on the
22d of February, the Italional governiuent of the
Polish republic. The movement extended every-
where, and was everywhere crushed out in blood;
it was then that the massacre of the Poles in
Galicia took place, by peasants of Russian origin,
whom the Austrian government was accused of
having excited to the deed, and which it at all
events did not restrain. The republic of Cracow
was suppressed, and Austria, Prussia and Russia
signed, on the 6th of November, a treaty which
incorporated Cracow with Austria. France and
England entered a protest, for form's sake. A
third insurrection took place in 1848, and was
quelled the same year. — In 1861 the Russian
government seemed to wish to adopt free institu-
tions in Poland. A council of state or of adminis-
tration, and councils of districts and of municipal-
ities, were instituted; the use of the Polish language
in official documents was permitted, and the right
of petition recognized. It is certain that the na-
tional agronomical society carried its labors beyond
the object for which it was established; it was
dissolved, as well as the urban delegations. The
fourth insurrection was thenceforth fully resolved
upon; it lasted until 1863 and 1864, and was, like
the previous ones, reduced by force. France and
England interposed by diplomatic notes, to the
legality and conclusions of which the Russian
government took exceptions; the intervening pow-
ers did not push any further the measure which
had encouraged the Poles without giving them
any real support; the character of belligerents,
which was accorded to the confederate states
of America, was not granted to them. After
the suppression of this last insurrection, Poland
lost even the nominal existence which had been
conceded to her by virtue of the treaties of 1815;
she was incorporated into the Russian empire,
and in 1867 the very name of Poland disap-
peared; there remain, administratively at least,
only the ten western governments of the empire.
J. DE B. — II. General Considerations. The Pol-
ish question is at once easy to state, and difficult
to solve. We have to do with a nation whose
territory and independence have been taken away,
which has fought with heroism and perseverance
to recover those inestimable possessions, which
has been conquered, and has suffered martyrdom
rather than abjure its rights. This is the state-
ment of the question; what will be the solution
of it? Russia, Austria, Prussia, will never restore
the provinces which they have taken; that appears
to us certain. Let any one ask no matter what
country to cede a part of its territory without
“previous and just indemnity,” and the answer
would be the same. Only a war can bring about
the re-establishment of Poland; but unless ex-
traordinary circumstances should arise to aid its
liberators, success would be too doubtful for any
one willingly to run the risks of an aggression. —
Many persons believe that there is an interest, if
not European, at least French and German, in the
reconstruction of Poland on the banks of the
Vistula. But as this Poland would be intended
as a barrier against Russia, the latter would spend
her last rouble and her last man rather than per-
mit its establishment, and in this emergency the
government would find the Russian nation ready
for any sacrifice. The interest of Prussia and
of Austria is open to discussion : but, however
threatening Russia may appear to them, these two
powers will always think that the portions of
Poland which they have annexed will be more
useful to them as provinces than as allies. In
view of these difficulties, we will not venture any
prophecy as to the future of Poland. It is, how-
ever, self-evident that the efforts of a handful of
brave men will not suffice to vanquish the nu-
merous and well-disciplined battalions of Russia.
Enthusiasm will not supply the place of numbers,
and neither Poland nor civilization has anything
to gain from a rising, the result of which must
seem like Suicide. — We can not leave this sub-
jcct without drawing from the history of Poland
the political lesson which it contains. And firstly,
the elective system, applied to royalty, has borne
such sad fruit on the banks of the Vistula, that it
would forever be condemned if men profited by
the lessons of history. Besides, it is known that
Germany herself has not had too much reason to
be satisfied with her “elective empire,” although
it was during several centuries elective only in
form. Republics will continue to replace their
chief magistrates periodically, and at short inter-
vals, but monarchies will remain hereditary. It
is true that Poland called herself a républic. —
206
POLICE.
Then, the liberum veto, the unanimity required for
the choice of a king and in other cases, rendered
all regular decision impossible. This requirement
could not be in any way justified. At the present
day, sovereign powers alone maintain such a re-
quirement, which may be sustained to a certain
extent by states coming freely together in con-
ference, but has its inconveniences even in a
confederacy ; it is necessary that in the greater
number of cases the majority should prevail. A
small number of persons, filled with the desire of
coming to an understanding, succeed at last in
agreeing by a series of compromises. States as-
sembled in conference are rarely numerous, while
Poland had 40,000 nobles with the right to vote;
how could they agree? It is easily understood
that with this multitude of petty sovereigns an-
archy should have found its way into the country
and excited the covetousness of its neighbors,
We have no intention of extenuating what is
odious in the act of partition, by saying that the
Poles provoked it by the unintelligent organiza-
tion of their government. The thief can not be
declared innocent because the owner neglected to
shut his door, but the owner has none the less
himself to blame. — But if these mistakes have
had such terrible results to the victims of them,
the states which took part in the spoliation have
felt the consequences of their unjust act; and it is
not impossible that they may yet suffer further
from it, for moral evil is nearly always followed
by a series of troubles. (See NATIONALITIES,
LAW OF; RUSSIA.) MAURICE BLOCK.
POLICE. By the term police, we here mean the
coercive power of the state in the domain of home
administration. Morality, on the other hand, is the
rule, the dictate of duty in the conscience of the
individual, over his will, and the free action of
that will. This rule or supremacy can be found-
ed only on the freedom of the individual. It is a
fact of psychic life which can not be produced by
outward coercion, but, at the same time, which
can not be prevented. Since power, in the sense
in which the term is used in this article, can ex-
ercise only external compulsion, it follows that
it has not the means of directly influencing the
morality of individuals. It may prevent indi-
viduals from doing certain definite acts, and by
threats of penalty compel the individual to per-
form certain public duties; but it is unable to cre-
ate or transform the sentiment from which the
supremacy of the dictates of duty over the will of
man springs. For moral freedom is a domain
inaccessible to the police power. This cardinal
truth has made its way to full recognition, only
slowly. Only in modern times has the state
refused to make its subjects moral by means of
public ordinances and prohibitions, and by the
enforcement of compulsory police measures. In
the ancient world, and chiefly among the Greeks,
the conviction prevailed, that the state should
assume the task of educating the individual in
morality, and that the individual could only be-
come moral in the state and through the state.
Plato and Aristotle, different as their doctrines of
the state are in other points, agreed with the then
prevailing opinion, that the state should regulate
both the inner and the outward life of its citizens,
in order to guide them toward the highest good,
to morality. In the legislation of the ancients the
law, as a consequence, encroached on the domain
of morality, and the codes of law which sub-
jected individuals most to guardianship in this
matter, in order to educate them in morality,
were those that enjoyed the highest reputation.
(Cf. Hermann, Lehrbuch der Griech Privatalter-
thiºmer, 2d ed., 1870, p. 473, etc.; Schömann,
Griech Alterthümer, 3d ed., 1871, vol. i., p. 113,
etc.; Fustel de Coulanges, La cité antique, p. 281,
etc.)— The Roman law was the first to assume an
independent attitude in relation to morality, and
to frame itself in accordance with its own laws.
But the Roman state not only demanded of the
citizen that he should live according to law, and
perform all his legal duties, it also expected the
citizen, by his moral private life, and a well-
regulated private household, to contribute to
the well-being of the community. Any one, who
through immoral conduct injured his own worth
as a citizen, and, as a member of the common-
wealth, injured the community, did not, therefore,
violate the law, but he exposed himself to reproof
by the state, and forfeited his political honor, be-
cause he had failed to fulfill his moral obligations
toward the state. In the public census, that oc-
curred every fifth year, the censors were required
not only to examine into the rights of the citizens,
their capacity for taxation, and bearing arms;
they were also required to subject the moral con-
duct of individuals to a thorough investigation,
and, without any legal restraint, they might in-
flict the mota of infamy on any citizen who had
done anything “contrary to public morality,
and contrary to the interests of the community.”
The delinquent, according to his rank, was then
either expelled from the tribus, or, if eques, con-
demned to lose his horse, or to be deprived of
his seat in the senate. The censorial nota, which
had to be ratified by both censors, remained
valid only until the expiration of the lustrum,
that is, until the period of the next census. (Cf
|Mommsen Römisches Staatsrecht, 2d ed., 1877,
vol. ii., p. 363, etc.) This remarkable institu-
tion of moral censorship may not have been
able to render the Romans more moral, but it
certainly contributed to strengthen the sense of
civil honor, and, for a limited time at least, it was
able to oppose a barrier to the outward decay of
morality. The censorship perished under the
empire, and the imperial penal laws against im-
morality and luxury proved inadequate substi-
tutes for the censure, which, ‘‘ by the magnitude
of its power, boundlessness of its arbitrariness,
its lofty moral nobleness, and local patriotic ego-
tism, was a genuine expression of the Roman re-
public.” (Mommsen, vol. ii., p. 327.) — During
the middle ages the prevailing theory of the
POLICE.
207
church assigned to the state the task of employing
its political power in the execution of ecclesiasti-
cal decrees, and of compelling the observance
of the moral precepts sanctioned by the church.
But, at that time, by reason of the inconsiderable
part taken by the state in legislation and in inter-
nal administration, it was only in isolated cases
and unsystematically that the state could under-
take the task assigned it by the church. Not till
the close of the middle ages did the public author-
ities, in an unsystematic manner, it is true, begin
extensively to oppose immorality by threats of
punishment, and to remove certain immoral ex-
crescences in isolated cases. Laws were enacted
against luxury, cursing and Swearing, excessive
drinking, against beggary, and the keeping of
concubines. In Germany the imperial police reg-
ulations of the sixteenth century present a long
and varied series of police regulations and prohi-
bitions, which were afterward kept up, and still
further extended in the other German states by
legislation. When, later, in the eighteenth cen-
tury, enlightened despotism had attained to power,
governments, by a close supervision of the sub-
jects of the state, and by the legislative regulation
of their private life, did their best to lead them, if
not to morality, at least to temporal well-being.
Without recognizing the moral freedom of the
individual, active police legislation sought to sub-
ject the whole life and endeavors of individuals
to regulations. Only since the close of the past
and the beginning of this century has a more cor-
rect understanding of the true nature of morality
and of moral freedom begun to exert its influence
on the legislation and administration of the state.
By degrees the police laws, which interfered with
the private life of the subject, not with a view of
preventing violations of the law, or to protect the
community from danger, but solely to compel the
individual to greater morality or economical fore-
sight, were expressly abrogated, or fell into com-
plete oblivion for want of enforcement. The state
at last came to understand that it must refuse to
endeavor to educate its citizens morally by the
employment of coercive means, and that it should
promote their moral education by aiding the
whole economic and intellectual culture of the
people in so far as that culture requires the aid of
the state. The state has further understood, that
in itself immorality is not punishable, because the
state can pass judgment only on external acts and
behavior, not on things which belong to the inner
psychic life of man. An act in itself is neither
moral nor immoral; it is moral or immoral only in
so far as the disposition or intention, whose out-
ward expression it is, is moral or immoral. The
state is justified in opposing, and obliged to
oppose, and, when possible, to prevent, immoral
acts, only in so far as such acts are an injury to
the goods of individuals or of the community pro-
tected by the state, or when there is danger that
immoral acts may cause such injury. In such
cases the state interferes, not because the inten-
tion, from which the acts proceed, is immoral, but
because such acts either injure, or threaten to in-
jure, the goods, which are under the legal protec-
tion of the state. It is only external acts, there-
fore, which belong to the police supervision of the
state, and not morality or immorality of intention.
— Acts proceeding from an immoral character or
intention, followed by injury to goods protected
by the law, draw after them legal consequences,
which are determined by the different parts of the
law, particularly by the criminal or penal law.
The object of police regulations for the public
security is the prevention of these violations of
the law. Police regulations in the interest of
morality, on the contrary, concern themselves
only with those acts which of themselves are not
an injury to interests recognized by the law, to
property, etc.; which do not even always expose
such interests to injury; but which, by the spread
and encouragement of an immoral character in
the community, are apt to cause injury or expose
to danger the goods of individuals or of the com-
munity. Police regulations in the interests of
morality, therefore, are not aimed at the immoral
intention itself, but at the spread and encourage-
ment of the immoral character; and even in this
case only when such spread and encouragement
threatens injury to legally protected interests.
It hence results, that the sphere of such regulations '
in the modern state is a very narrow one, and that
it is confined to a limited number of external im-
moral acts. And, as these regulations do not
oppose immorality because immoral, but because
it is the cause of injury to the community, it
follows that the legal provisions of states in the
matter of public morality will be different in dif-
ferent states, according as the prevalence of such
injury is greater or less. The diversity of the
stages of culture, of the character, of the customs
and economic conditions in different nations, pro-
duces a diversity in the police regulations relating
to morality. The objects with which police regu-
lations in the interests of morality are chiefly con-
cerned, are drunkenness, gambling and Sexual pro-
fligacy. In recent times these regulations have
rightly been extended so as to make them cover
cruelty to animals. –I. Drunkenness. The indul-
gence in intoxicating beverages, which is to be
found among almost all nations of the past and
of the present, is not in itself immoral, but be-
comes immoral when, through excess, it begins
to exert an injurious effect on the body and
on the mind. Man then undermines his bodily
and his mental powers, in order to afford a mo-
mentary gratification to the senses. But in so
far as the individual, by excessive indulgence
in intoxicating beverages, injures only himself,
it is not the duty of the state to interfere with
him. The state is not bound to relieve its adult
subjects of their moral responsibility, nor to
protect them against the consequences of their
own individual immorality. But when drunk-
enness no longer appears as an isolated phenom-
enon; when, over the whole people, or Oyer any
single class of the population, it asserts its lament-
trº
*
208
POLICE.
able power, its injurious effects are not limited to
the individual who is its slave, but are felt by the
family, by society, and by the state, and it imper-
ils the very foundations of the family, and the life
of the state. Recent investigations have proved
that excessive indulgence in intoxicants not only
acts injuriously on the organism, that it not only
increases the liability to sickness, and increases the
mortality of drinkers, but also, that through the
influence of alcoholism, many symptoms of degen-
eracy are transmitted to offspring. Although the
statistical data are here somewhat defective, it is
an incontestable fact, that the drunkenness of pa-
rents transmits to their progeny the tendency to
a number of serious diseases, under which the
latter sooner or later succumb. The destruction
of family life, caused by alcoholism, and the effects
of habitual parental drunkenness on the children,
can not be shown statistically, but these effects
are so manifest that statistics are superfluous.
The consequences of intemperance extend far be-
yond the family circle, when it has become a vice
of the nation, or of any class of society. There is
no doubt whatever that intemperance is a fruitful
source of the increase of crime and of criminals.
“Poverty, ignorance, sensuality, irreligion and
immorality are greatly favored by alcoholism, and
proportionately diminished by the temperate habits
of the people.” In this sense alcoholism very per-
ceptibly influences the increase of crime. We are
convinced that drunkenness and alcoholism ren-
der man inclined to commit unlawful acts, which
differ according to time, place and circumstances;
because under their influence he is unable to con-
trol any transient impulse of the will, and can not
subject it, as when he is sober, to the control of
the judgment. It is a truth that, with the in-
crease of intermperance and of drunkards—which
is not altogether identical with the increase of the
consumption of alcohol in general—the number of
crimes and of criminals also increases. And in
this opinion all those agree who are best acquaint-
ed with the lives of criminals, to wit, the judges
and magistrates of all countries.* We certainly
must not here overlook the fact, that a number of
crimes, committed by drunkards or in a state of
drunkenness, would probably have been commit-
ted, even if the perpetrators had not been addicted
to drink; still, it is certain that intemperance and
drunkenness in very many instances are the ele-
ment but for the presence of which these crimes
would not have been committed. — As to the num-
ber of drunkards among prisoners, and the num-
ber of Crimes committed under the influence of
* Bär, p. 341, etc. According to Bär (p. 343), the most ex-
perienced judges, magistrates and prison officials in England
have declared, that three-fourths to four-fifths of all crimes
are the result of intemperance. In the year 1877, before a
parliamentary committee, nineteen prison superintendents
and clergymen stated that the number of prisoners who
were victims of intemperance amounted to 60–90 per cent. of
all criminals (p. 344). In Germany, according to Bär (p.
348), in the year 1875, of 32,837 prisoners, there were 13,706
drunkards (41.7 per cent.), 7,269 occasional drinkers (22.1
per cent.), and 6,437 habitual drunkards (19.6 per cent.).
2-
alcohol, we possess statistical proof showing the
influence of intemperance in producing crime. On
the other hand, we lack sufficient data to show the
precise influence of intemperance on the number
of those who claim public assistance. In spite of
this absence of statistical proof, we may safely
assume that in numerous cases pauperism has its
Source in the intemperance of the assisted in-
dividual, or of his parents. The cause of pau-
perism lies in the disturbance of domestic econom-
ic conditions. The loss of bodily and intellectual
power renders it impossible, or at least extremely
difficult, for the person impoverished by intem-
perance to rehabilitate himself. —In this way in-
temperance exercises highly injurious effects on
family and national life, as well as on the state.
We must accordingly regard it as the duty of
the state to protect itself against the dangers by
which it is threatened from intemperance. In
Several countries the efforts of society, unsup-
ported by the state, have been able, for a time at
least, to stop the progress of intemperance. Thus,
the temperance and total abstinence societies in
the United States and Great Britain have exercised
a beneficent influence. In the year 1808 a tem-
perance society was founded at Moreau, in the
state of New York, but it failed of any marked
success. But a temperance society, which was
finally established in 1827, and whose members
pledged themselves to total abstinence from all
alcoholic beverages, rapidly gained a vast num-
ber of adherents. In 1828 there had been formed
280 temperance societies, with 30,000 members;
in 1835 the number of the societies had increased
to 8,000, with 1,500,000 members." More than
4,000 whisky distilleries were closed, and more
than 8,000 merchants had given up the traffic in
spirits. In recent times, however, these temper-
ance societies have decreased. In England, the
first temperance society was established in 1829.
In that country, above all, the teetotal temper-
ance society, established in 1835, had a large
membership, while in 1840, and subsequently,
Father Mathew, both in Ireland and in England,
gained honorable distinction in his warfare against
intemperance. At present there exist in Great
Britain many large societies, with abundant
means at their command, among which the na-
tional temperance league seems to be the most
important. In Germany, beginning with the year
1838, and chiefly in Prussia, Hanover, Oldenburg,
etc., several temperance societies were formed,
which, in spite of violent opposition, gained a
large number of adherents. Nevertheless, after
1846, the activity of these societies daily dimin-
ished; most of them ultimately dissolved, and the
few that have survived until the present, have
dragged out a sickly existence. The history of
these associations in Germany proves that the ac-
tion of society does not suffice for the suppression
of intemperance. Hence, even the successful soci-
eties in England and the United States have felt
the necessity of invoking the aid of the state, of
the police and of the legislature. The state can
POLICE.
209
not refuse to grant this aid. Still, in granting it,
the legislator should bear in mind that it is not
the task of the state to make individuals moral.
It should only seek, as far as possible, to protect
society from the damage, and prevent the injury,
caused by intemperance. To this end, the state
may put obstacles in the way of temptation to
intemperance, and, by the imposition of suitable
penalties, oppose the spread of intemperance. —
The most important means at the command of
the state, to oppose the temptation to intemper-
ance, is the limitation and surveillance of drink-
ing places, and of the retail trade in spirits.” –
The adoption of the so-called “police hour *
(closing time) has also proved a means to prevent
the spread of intemperance, by restricting the
Sale of intoxicants to certain hours. The legisla-
tures of several states of the Union have resorted
to still more effective measures. Through the
influence of the temperance societies in the state
of Maine, a law was passed, which forbids the
sale of all intoxicating drinks, with the exception
of cider and native wine. In the years follow-
ing, Maine's example was imitated by many other
states, which subsequently revoked the prohibi-
tion. Experience has shown that the state is
unable to enforce a law of this kind, and that the
real good which it may effect is more than coun-
terbalanced by the hypocrisy and demoralization
which it causes. In other states of the Union an
effort has been made to turn the saloon keepers
themselves into instruments to oppose intemper-
ance, by rendering them liable for all the conse-
quences of intemperance. It is provided, that
any one who by the sale of intoxicants shall have
caused the drunkenness of another, shall be re-
sponsible for the injury which the drunkard, his
family, etc., may have suffered in their property,
means of subsistence, or in their persons. In Eng-
land (Law of 1872, art. 3), in France (Law of Jan.
23, 1878, art. 4), in Sweden (Law of 1869, § 29),
and in The Netherlands (Law of June, 1881,
art. 17), it is forbidden to publicans to sell intoxi-
cants to individuals already drunk, or to minors
under the age of sixteen. — Finally, the statemay
threaten the excesses of intemperance with pun-
ishment. In Germany, the penal law of the em-
pire punishes by imprisonment all persons who
abandon themselves to drink to such a degree that
they fall into a condition such that they must
appeal to the authorities for their own support, or
for the sustenance of those whom they naturally
are obliged to support. By virtue of this law
the police authorities may also obtain the power
to place the sentenced person, at the expiration of
his punishment, for two years in a workhouse, or
to employ him in works of public utility. But
even these provisions may not prove sufficient.
Under these laws the interposition of the state does
not take place before the drunkard has reached
such a degree of moral depravity that his cure is
impossible. The sojourn in a workhouse, more-
over, is but seldom favorable to the improvement
of the habitual drunkard, and the threat of pun-
ishment can scarcely produce any deterrent effect
on him. The penal police laws in several German
states, as well as the legislation of Sweden (Penal
Code of Feb. 16, 1864, § 15), of England (Law of
1872, art. 12), of France (Law of Jan. 23, 1873),
of Austria (Law of July 19, 1879, valid only in
Galicia and Bukowina), of The Netherlands (Law
of 1881, art. 22, 23), go still further, and threaten
with punishment all who are found in taverns, in
the street, or in other public places, in a condition
Schaumburg-Lippe. Nevertheless, the ordinance caused a
* The general economic principle, that the production ac-
commodates itself to the demand for the article produced, is
incorrect in so far as the number of drinking places and the
retail trade in spirits are concerned, for the reason that the
temptations to intemperance are increased by the frequency,
convenience and cheapness of the opportunities offered for
the gratification of the taste for intoxicants. Where taverns or
“saloons" and the retail trade in spirits are completely free,
the number of taverns, etc., is not proportioned to the want,
but to the power of resistance of the people to the desire,
for strong drink. The less this power for resistance is, the
greater will be the number of “saloons,” and the more rap-
idly will intemperance spread. For this reason the re-
tailing of spirituous liquors has in all states been subjected
to police regulations, and where these regulations have been
abolished, a speedy return to severer ones has been neces-
sary. In England the public houses have to be licensed,
and the license can be granted only by a permanent com-
mittee of the justices of the peace of the county, or of the
city, and must be renewed every year. The license is
granted only for one definite public house, on which a
special tax is laid. (Laws of 1828 and 1872.) In France, by
a decree of Dec. 29, 1851, a tavern or inn can be opened only
by virtue of a license, issued by the prefect. The prefect
may close a tavern, from motives of public security, or be-
cause the keeper thereof has been sentenced for a trans-
gression of the regulations governing his traffic. The pre-
fects are instructed to grant new licenses only after an ex-
tremely careful examination into the character of the person
and of the demand, and to close a public house as soon as
the keeper has become guilty of even the smallest trans-
gression of the police regulations. (Ministerial Circular of
March 6, 1872.) A peculiar system, and one worthy of
attention, prevails in Sweden and Norway. In Sweden the
laws of 1857 and 1869 provided, that in every parish the
number of taverns should be determined by boards co-
operating with the parish authorities, and that they should
be leased to the highest bidder. In 1865 there was formed,
in the city of Gothenburgh a joint stock company, which
rented all the taverns in the city, with a view to limit-
ing the retailing of spirituous liquors and opposing in-
temperance. All the profits of the business, by the by-
laws of the society, go to the treasury of the parish. The
highly favorable results obtained by this company caused
societies of the same kind to be ſormed in many other cities.
In the year 1871, in Norway, a similar law was enacted, and
the so-called Gothenburgh system was introduced there.
This system, however, has its disadvantages; for a great
number of secret drinkihg places were opened, and the
police but seldom succeeded in suppressing them. In Ger-
many an ordinance of June 21, 1869, makes the business of
taverns, as well as the retail trade in brandy and spirits, de-
pendent on the obtaining of a license. The license, how-
ever, can be denied: 1, when there is reason to believe that
the person asking it is likely to abuse it for the encourage-
ment of excessive drinking, gambling, or of immorality; 2,
when the place intended for the trade, by reason of its posi-
tion, etc., does not satisfy the requirements of the police.
When it is not contrary to territorial laws, the territorial
administrations may make the permission to retail intox1-
cants dependent on proof of actual public demand. This is
the case in Prussia, Saxony, Mecklenburg, Brunswick, Saxe-
Meiningen, Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Saxe-Altenburg, Reuss and
133 VOL. III. – 14
notable increase in the number of retail shops for the Sale of
intoxicants,
210
POLICE.
of evident or scandalous intoxication. — The state
can also, in an indirect way, effect a diminution
of the use of intoxicants, by raising the price of
whisky, etc., the most injurious of all, by taxa-
tion. Still, in the warfare against intemperance,
this expedient does not deserve to have the im-
portance attached to it which it has enjoyed.
Experience has thus far shown that the taxation
of whisky, etc., which exceeds a certain limit,
has only ruinous consequences, because it leads to
fraud, and efforts to evade the law; it favors
the secret consumption of whisky, and causes a
diminution in the revenues of the state. All
these measures owe their origin to the opinion that
intemperance is a vice when public, and that it
must be combated by the state, by reason of its
dangers to the community. Careful observations
and investigations, however, have demonstrated
that intemperance, when it reaches a certain de-
gree, becomes a real disease, which destroys the
empire of reason over the will to such an extent
that its victim becomes unable to resist his passion
for strong drink. But experience has shown that
in many cases a cure of the disease can be effected
by skillful professional treatment, and through a
complete denial to the patient of all alcoholic
drinks. *— II. Gambling. The economic and mor-
al evils produced by a love for gambling among
a people are so evident that they require no proof.
The state does not assume the task of freeing the
individual from the passion or vice of gambling,
but it is its duty to oppose open temptations to
gambling, and, above all, not to induce its citizens
to engage in games of hazard. In states also which
from financial motives do not believe themselves
able to abolish the state lotteries, as in Italy, Aus-
tria and in several German states, there is no doubt
as to the injury done by such institutions. In the
German empire the legislature has, by the follow-
ing provisions, sought to prevent open temptations
to gambling. 1. Public gambling houses shall nei-
ther be licensed nor tolerated. On Dec. 31, 1872,
the last houses of the kind that existed in Ger-
many were closed under the law of July 1, 1868.
2, Public lotteries and public raffling of movable
or immovable goods can take place only with the
permission of the authorities (Penal Code of the
Empire, § 286); the law also forbids the sale or
offer of tickets in foreign lotteries, unless allowed
by the government of the country. 3. Only the
authorities can permit games of hazard on the
high road (street, square), or in a public place or
inn. Inn keepers who permit games of hazard in
their places, or connive at such games played
secretly, are also liable to punishment. 4. The
business of games of hazard for purposes of gain is
forbidden, and may be severely punished. Per-
sons violating these laws are punished by im-
prisonment for a term of two years; besides which
* To this effect, asylums for the inebriate were established
in the United States (in 1857 in Boston), asylums in which
cures are frequently effected. It has been claimed that in
the asylums in the United States cures have been effected in
35 per cent. of the cases.
a pecuniary fine of from 300 to 6,000 marks, with
the loss of certain civil rights, may also be in-
flicted on them. If the person sentenced is a
foreigner the police authorities may expel him
from the federal territory. — Provided the above
regulations are respected, games, and even games of
hazard, are not forbidden in the German empire.
As in the case of the drunkard, the gambler is
threatened with punishment by the penal code
of the empire when his case is analogous to the
drunkard's. When sentenced to imprisonment,
the police authorities may be empowered to send
him, at the expiration of his term of punishment,
to a workhouse for two years, or to employ him
in works of common utility. —III. Prostitution.
Changed ideas in reference to the attitude of the
state toward immorality are nowhere so evident
as in the legal treatment of sexual profligacy.
While from the seventeenth century until the
middle of the eighteenth the state declared all
sexual immorality punishable, and threatened it
with heavy punishments, since that time, chiefly
owing to the influence of Beccaria, the opinion
has prevailed that sexual immorality should be
treated as a crime only when it is accompanied by
the violation of a legally protected right; but that
the state should not punish immorality as such.
The police of public morality should, according to
this view, oppose only seduction, and the public
scandal caused by immorality.j Modern penal
codes in the main adopt this view, as does also
the penal code of the German empire. There are,
however, certain exceptional crimes against chas-
tity which involve no violation of a legally pro-
tected right, but which are punished, even when
there can be no question of public Scandal. To
these exceptions belong the unnatural crimes of
sodomy, etc. Leaving these exceptions out of
consideration, the state proceeds against sexual
incontinence, which does not violate a legally
protected right, such as the freedom and honor of
the person, the family, etc., only from motives of
order. But moral police reasons are not here the
only controlling ones. It is well known that syph-
ilis, which preys on the very marrow of nations,
has been propagated chiefly by sexual profligacy.
Even if it be no concern of the state to protect
individuals against the injurious consequences of
+ In the middle ages the church used to punish every kind
of unchastity as an ecclesiastic transgression, but it is
known how widespread sexual profligacy was in the middle
ages among the clergy and laity, and how openly it was
practiced. Loose women were not only tolerated, but public
brothels were considered necessary institutions in a city.
They frequently were the property of the lords of the coun-
try or city; they were leased out by them, or kept for them
by brothel masters or mistresses whom they appointed.
Private brothels were licensed, and stood under the protec-
tion of public authority, but had to pay certaill laxes. In
most German cities brothels had to be tolerated under
police supervision, and the laws against simple prostitution,
as a rule, remained void of effect.
f In Germany it was mainly the work of Cella on crimes
and transgressions in the matter of unchastity (1786), that
paved the way for the opinion that simple incontinence,
which appears only as vice, without offending the rights of
others, or creating public Scandal, is not punishable.
POLICE.
211
immorality, it must be remembered that syphilis
does not confine its ravages to those who have
brought it upon themselves by their profligacy.
It may be transmitted in various other ways
(particularly through wet-nurses to infants) and
by inheritance it bequeaths destruction to future
generations. Here, public moral police must go
hand in hand with sanitary police. — The state
should see to it, that the moral sense of the peo-
ple, and public decorum, are not outraged by in-
decent public exhibitions. The ſollowing, there-
fore, should be punished: 1, persons who cause
public scandal by indecent acts; 2, persons sell-
ing indecent writings, pictures or drawings, who
distribute them, or who exhibit or affix them in
places frequented by the public; 3, fornication,
when it causes a public scandal. The state should
punish, not only treacherous inducements to in-
continence or to unchastity when accompanied
by the violation of particular duties, and the se-
duction of minors, or girls under sixteen, but also
seduction when it assumes a character dangerous
to the interests of the community. It is not the
duty of the state to make the individual moral,
or to protect her against temptations to immor-
ality; but it should endeavor to prevent all acts
of immorality calculated to poison family life
and the life of the nation. The law, therefore,
rightly punishes procurers or panders, that is, the
intentional enticement of others to unchastity.
Still, it is very questionable to what extent the
state should declare panders punishable. In this
matter the provisions of law in different countries
are very different. In France (Code pénal, art.
334), habitual panderage is punished only when
it facilitates the seduction of minors; but, accord-
ing to the penal code of the German empire,
those persons are punished for panderage who,
habitually or from motives of gain, through
their mediation, or through the affording of Oppor-
tunities, promote unchastity. According to this,
the keeping of loose women in brothels for pur-
poses of prostitution is punishable. But it is
questionable whether this prohibition can be rec-
onciled with the requirements of sanitary police.
Sanitary police, which must prevent the spread
of syphilis, can only perform this task by subject-
ing to a strict control all women who carry on
prostitution as a trade. This control is unques-
tionably facilitated when ordinary prostitution, in
the larger cities at least, is confined to relatively
few brothels, and when the police seek to sup-
press all prostitution outside of these houses. It
is not propér to assume that the state acts contrary
to duty when it tolerates houses of prostitution,
for it has not to combat vice as such, but only to
react against the spread of incontinence as a com-
mon danger.” By the toleration of brothels the
state does not lend support to vice, but it leaves the
temptation to vice unpunished, only because from
its suppression there would result greater disad-
* For this reason, Mohl, on principle, advocates the tol-
eration of brothels. W. Oettingen (Moral Statistik, p. 171,
etc.) agrees with him in this.
vantages than advantages to the community. —
There is no need here of closely examining the
question, whether or not sanitary police requires
the toleration and strict supervision of brothels;
but, if it does, there exists in principleno objection
against it, from the point of view of the police
of public morality. Simple sexual incontinence
may not be forbidden by the state, but the state
should oppose the trade in unchastity by loose
women; for there result therefrom great dangers
both to health and public morality. — Prostitu-
tion as a trade leads easily to seduction, which
is socially dangerous, and to the causing of pub-
lic scandal; and, On the other hand, it favors
the spread of syphilis. The penal code of the
German empire therefore forbids the trade of pros-
titution to women who are not subject to police
supervision, and punishes prostitutes under police
supervision if they neglect the regulations of the
police that have been made in the interest of health,
of public order and public decorum. — The task
of the police regulations in the interest of public
morality is, accordingly, to suppress all prostitu-
tion that seeks to escape police supervision, and,
through proper police regulations and their en-
forcement, to bring it about that vice should
not escape the obscurity which alone beseems
it. The task of sanitary police, while seeking
to prevent the spread of syphilis through pros-
titution, is more difficult. Dancing “saloons”
should also be subjected to special police super-
vision, as they frequently lead to seduction and
incontinence, and to the disturbance of public
peace and order. —IV. Cruelty to Animals. The
state interferes to prevent cruelty to animals, in
order to prevent the moral sense of the people
being shocked by such cruelty perpetrated on
animals, and to afford a protection to the animals
themselves against any unnecessary, and hence
immoral, cruelty of that nature. In France this
protection extends only to domestic animals (ani-
maua, domestiques). The law of July 2, 1850,
threatens with punishment any one who publicly
unseemingly (abusivement) maltreats domestic ani-
mals. In England, as early as the year 1823,
a law was passed against Cruelty to animals.
The laws in force there at present are those of
1850 and 1855 (12 and 13 Vict., ch. 92; 17 and 18
Vict., chap. 60): they threaten all ill treatment of
domestic animals with punishment. Under the
influence of an unhealthy sentimental movement,
a law was also passed, in 1870, against scien-
tific experiments on live animals (vivisection;
39 and 40 Vict., ch. 77). According to this law,
any painful experiments on live animals are per-
mitted only to persons who have received an au-
thorization from the minister, which, however,
+ Where brothels are tolerated, they should be subjected
to strict supervision, not only in the interest of Sanitary
police, but, above all, to prevent their becoming hot-beds of
vice. It is desirable to give prostitutes the possibility of
emancipating themselves from the control of panders and
brothel-keepers. The strongest objection against the toler-
ation of brothels consists in this, that in most cases the
return to a good life is rendered impossible to their inmates.
212
POLICE POWER OF A STATE.
may at any time be revoked. Vivisection can
only be practiced under the conditions imposed by
the law. In granting the license the minister may
also add any other conditions at will. The efforts
to prevent scientific investigations by a law of this
kind have hitherto proved vain in Germany.
EDGAR LOENING.
POLICE POWER OF A STATE. The police
power of the state is an authority conferred by
the American constitutional system upon the in-
dividual states, through which they are enabled
to establish a special department of police; adopt
such regulations as tend to prevent the commis-
sion of fraud, violence, or other offenses against
the state; aid in the arrest of criminals, and Se-
cure generally the comfort, health and prosperity
of the state, by preserving the public Order, pre-
venting a conflict of rights in the common inter-
course of the citizen, and insuring to each an
uninterrupted enjoyment of all the privileges con-
ferred upon him by the laws of his country. The
organization of a state police, which shall fulfill
its functions effectively, and yet leave to the in-
dividual unimpaired freedom under the liberal
laws of a republican form of government, is one
of the most delicate tasks ever intrusted to the
lawgiver. —Blackstone defines the system to be
“the due regulation and domestic order of the
kingdom, whereby the inhabitants of a state, like
members of a well-governed family, are bound
to conform their general behavior to the rules of
propriety, good neighborhood and good manners,
and to be decent, industrious and inoffensive in
their respective stations.” (4 Bl. Com., 162.) —
Jeremy Bentham, in his “General View of Public
Offenses,” defines it to be a system of precaution
for the prevention of crimes or of calamities. –
With regard to its effect upon the use and enjoy-
ment of property, the object being to exhibit the
universality of its presence, and to define the
limits which settled principles of constitutional
law assign to its interference, Chief Justice Shaw
declares it to be a settled principle (Commonwealth
os. Alger, 7 Cushing, 84), that every holder of
property, however absolute may be his title, holds
it under an implied liability that its use shall not
be injurious to the equal rights of another in the
enjoyment of his property; nor injurious to the
rights of the people of a community. And the
right to adopt regulations necessary to enforce
this limitation by legislative enactments under the
controlling power vested in them by the national
constitution, differs from the right of eminent
domain, which only permits a government to pos-
sess itself of private property whenever the pub-
lic needs require it, on the condition of granting
a reasonable compensation therefor. It is less
difficult to conceive of the existence and sources
of this power which permits the adoption of vari-
ous laws, statutes and Ordinances for the good
and welfare of the community, than to define its
limits and lay down the rules for its exercise. —
It is a recognized principle that the national gov-
ernment can not, through any of its departments,
invade the reserved rights of the states, and as-
sume the power of Supervising their police regula-
tions, when they do not conflict with the national
sovereignty and the exercise of federal authority
conferred by the constitution. Nevertheless, the
powers of the states may be so employed as to
conflict with the jurisdiction of the national gov-
ernment, and Serious questions have arisen be-
tween the police power of the state and the
authority conferred upon congress by the consti-
tution. To prevent the state from operating
within the sphere of the national government, in
the exercise of this conferred power, its limits can
be extended no further than a just regulation of
its rights demands for the protection of the citi-
zen of the state in the enjoyment of life, liberty,
health and property. Says Cooley (Con. Lim.,
574), “This subject has often been considered in
its bearings upon the clause of the constitution of
the United States, which forbids the states pass-
ing any laws violating the obligations of con-
tracts; and invariably it has been held that this
clause does not so far remove from state control
the rights and properties which depend for their
existence on enforcement of contracts, as to re-
lieve them from the operation of such general
regulations for the good government of the state
and the protection of the rights of individuals as
may be deemed important. All contracts and all
rights, it is held, are subject to this power; and
regulations which affect them may not only be
established by the state, but must also be sub-
ject to change from time to time, with reference
to the general well-being of the community, as
circumstances change, or as experience demon-
strates the necessity.”—Perhaps the most striking
illustration of the principle here stated, will be
found among the judicial decisions which hold
that the rights insured to private corporations by
their charters, and the manner of their exercise,
are subject to such new regulations as from time
to time may be made by the state, with a view to
the public protection, health and safety, and to
properly guard the rights of other individuals
and corporations. Although these charters are
considered as contracts, and their rights held in-
violable, it does not follow that they are removed
from state regulation. Nevertheless, there must
be a limit to the exercise of the police power of
the state. The regulating ordinances must have
reference to the comfort, safety or welfare of so-
ciety; they must not conflict with any provisions
of the charter, nor take from the corporation any
of the essential rights and privileges which the
charter confers. They must, in fact, be police reg-
ulations, and not amendments to the charter itself,
as, where a corporation was chartered with the
right to exact toll from passengers, a Subsequent
statute authorizing a certain class of passengers
to travel free over the road was held to be void.
(Pingrey vs. Washburn, 1 Aiken, 268.) The rule
has been further held, that, while the corporate
charter itself contained a provision empowering a
POLICE POWER OF A STATE.
213
legislature to alter, modify or repeal it, such a
provision would not, on pretext of amendment or
police regulation, have the effect to appropriate
any portion of the corporate property to the pub-
lic ouse. Nr would it justify an act requiring a
railroad company to cause a proposed new street
or highway to be taken across their track and all
labor and materials necessary for the same to be
furnished at their own expense. (Miller vs. New
York & Erie R. R. Co., 21 Barb., 513.) Nor can
a corporation he held liable for the obstruction of
a river, by a subsequent amendment to a charter
granting them the right to erect a bridge over a
navigable stream, which must necessarily obstruct
the said river. Nor can the police power of a state,
in regulating the speed of railway carriages, ex-
tend further than the streets and public grounds
of a city. But it can require all railroad corpora-
tions to fence their tracks, and hold them liable
for the loss of all domestic animals killed thereon,
and for the double reason of protection to domes-
tic animals and to persons being transported in
railway carriages. Under the common law rule,
where a corporation has failed to obey the regula-
tions adopted for its government, and injury has
resulted therefrom, such disobedience would not
make the corporation liable to the party injured,
if his own negligence aided that of the corpora-
tion in producing the injury. Nevertheless, under
the police power of the state, a legislature may
enact such a law as shall hold the corporation
liable for the animals thus destroyed, notwith-
standing the negligence of the party injured. The
state may likewise, under the same power, regu-
late the grade of railroads, and prescribe the way
in which railroads shall cross each other, and ap-
portion the expense of such crossings among the
corporations owning the roads. It may also es-
tablish regulations requiring existing railroads to
ring the bell and blow the whistle of their engines
at all places on their roads where their approach
might be dangerous to travel. And it has been
held that the power may extend so far as to make
such corporations liable as insurers for the safety
of their passengers in the same manner they are
by law liable as common carriers. (Thorpe vs.
Rutland & Burlington R. R. Co., 27 Wt., 152.)
And those statutes of the various states which
grant an action to the representatives of persons
killed by the neglect, default or wrongful act of an-
other, may apply to corporations already chartered.
and give a remedy for a wrong which the com-
mon law fails to supply.—Another point where the
police power of the state has by some been held to
conflict with the federal constitution is, where by
statute the sale of intoxicating liquors has been
altogether prohibited. The weight of authority,
however, determines the question thus : when
these statutes merely assume to regulate and to
prohibit sales by other persons than those licensed
by public authority, there can be no question of a
conflict with constitutional power entertained, as
they are but simple police regulations of the same
character as those which any state or community
might adopt for the regulation of any class of trade
'or employment. Those which prohibit entirely the
manufacture and sale of intoxicating liquors as a
beverage, have been attacked as subversive of fun-
damental rights, and urged to be in violation of ex-
press provisions of the federal constitution relating
to the commerce of the states. This view of the
case, however, although strongly advocated, was
not sustained by the supreme court of the United
States in the noted license cases. The majority
of the court expressed the opinion that the intro-
duction into a state of imported liquors could not
be prevented, as it would be in conflict with the
act of congress regulating commerce and levying
imposts; but it ceased to be an impost when
broken up for retail, and at once became subject
to the laws of the state, and amenable to taxation
and regulation by the state, the same as other
property; and further, that the power to regulate
commerce between the states did not exclude regu-
lations by the state save when they conflicted with
the laws of congress. – It would thus appear that
the state laws, known as prohibitory liquor laws,
are not held void, as in conflict with national
authority, in the regulation of commerce between
the states. The same laws have been sustained
when urged to be in conflict with state constitu-
tions, on the ground that they are police regula-
tions established by the legislature for the preven-
tion of intemperance, vagrancy and crime. The
power to declare the sale of liquor to be a nuisance
has been determined by the court, and it has been
held competent to provide legal process for its
destruction, and for the seizure and condemna-
tion of the building in which it is sold, as a
nuisance, provided the fundamental principle of
protection which surrounds persons and dwellings
relating to seizure and search shall not be invad-
ed, and that the right of trial shall be granted
before condemnation. Says Cooley (Con. Lim.,
p. 583): “Perhaps there is no instance in which
the power of the legislature to make such reg-
ulations as may destroy the value of property
without compensation to the owner, appears in
a more striking light than in the cases of these
statutes. The trade in alcoholic drinks being
lawful, and the capital employed in it being
fully protected by law, the legislature then steps
in, and for general reasons of public utility an-
nihilates the traffic, destroys altogether the em-
ployment, and reduces to a nominal value the
property on hand. The sale of liquor becomes a
criminal offense, and the merchant of yesterday be-
comes the criminal of to-day, and the very building
in which he lives, and conducts the business which
at that moment was lawful, becomes a nuisance,
if the statute shall so declare, and liable to be pro-
ceeded against for a forfeiture. Statutes which
can do this must be justified upon the highest
reasons of public benefit; but whether satisfactory
or not, they rest exclusively in the legislative wis-
dom.” — Other matters affecting commerce, in
which the police power of the state may be in-
voked in behalf of the public interests, are quar-
214
POLICE POWER OF A STATE.
antine regulations, and health laws in all forms.
These latter may be so far extended as to embrace'
the destruction of private property when infected
by disease, or dangerous in other particulars. In-
spection laws may be adopted and duties levied to
make them operative. Regulations may also be
enforced regarding the time and manner of trans-
acting business to promote trade, establish Order
and prevent confusion. These regulations em-
brace the right to control the movements and sta-
tion of ships and vessels in the harbors of cities,
and streams lying within the limits of cities and
seaport towns, and the wharves thereof, and to
remove such vessels as had discharged or received
their cargoes to enable others to perform the same
essential labor; and penalties may be inflicted
upon all such as refuse to obey the directions of
the harbor masters who are vested with the au-
thority to determine such matters. (Vanderbilt
w8. Adams, 7 Cow., 351.) Congress, however, may
establish police regulations, as well as the states,
relating to all subjects where control is given by
the constitution, but as this power can be more
Satisfactorily exercised by local authority, and the
jurisdiction to arrest collision is confined to the
United States courts, congress has generally rele-
gated this power to the states. – Questions have
arisen with regard to the power of a state to enact
laws requiring importers of foreign goods to take
out a license, and in case of refusal, to inflict
penalties and forfeitures. Such acts have been
held void as not partaking of the principles of
mere police regulations such as might require the
payment of a license fee to cover expenses of en-
forcing harbor regulations, but rather of the power
of taxation to raise revenue for the state, and
therefore in conflict with the provision of the
constitution which prohibits a state from laying
imposts or levying duties, and likewise with the
provision that congress alone shall possess the
power to regulate commerce. But the police
power of a state has been sustained (City of New
York vs. Miln, 11 Peters, 102), inflicting a penalty
upon the master of every foreign vessel who
should not report, upon arrival in port, to the
mayor or recorder of the city, an account of the
names, places of birth, business, etc., of his pas-
sengers; this police regulation having been adopted
to prevent the city of New York from being bur-
dened by persons shipped as paupers or criminals
by foreign governments. Notwithstanding the
fact that congress can adopt all laws regulating
pilots and pilotage, a state regulation relating to the
same has been held unobjectionable, when such
power had not been exercised by that body. —
With regard to the power of a state to enact such
laws as shall compel all persons to refrain from
labor during the first day of the week, it has
been held by the courts that such laws were
not encroachments upon the religious liberty of
persons who do not regard that day as sacred,
nor in conflict with the constitution because act-
ing as a restraint upon the trade and commerce
of a community, or rendering void a contract for
Sunday Services. – An important part of the
jurisdiction of a state is the control of its high-
ways. These are constructed by the state, and
the state has full power to adopt all police regula-
tions for the public good controlling the actions of
those who use them, and to alter and change them
as the proper authorities consider best for the
general interest. This power enables a state to
determine the mode of travel; regulate the speed;
cause parties meeting to turn each to their right;
prevent a public nuisance; prohibit animals from
running at large under penalty of fine and confis-
cation; require the owners of incorporated prop-
erty to construct, and keep in repair and free from
obstruction, the sidewalks in front of it, and, in
case of failure, to perform such work at the ex-
pense of the owner, the courts having held such
acts not to be in the nature of taxation, on account
of the paramount interest which the owners have
in the performance of the work, and their pecu-
liar ability to perform it promptly in accordance
with the necessity of the community; and for sim-
ilar reasons require the owners of adjacent lands,
where the country was liable to be overflowed
by a stream of considerable size, to construct lev-
ees upon their river front at their own expense,
and in default thereof, to cause such work to be
done under the direction of the public authorities,
and to assess the expense upon the lands of such
owners. — Navigable waters are declared public
highways, and as such are under the control of
the states. At common law, only those streams.
were held to be navigable where the tide ebbed
and flowed, but all streams of sufficient depth
of water to render them capable of navigation
for useful purposes were known as public, and be-
came subject to the same general rules governing
the public highways on land. In this country
the rule has been adopted to consider all streams.
public whose capacity is sufficient for channels.
of commerce in floating the products of the soil,
forests and mines of the country through which
they flow, although at stated periods of the year
they may become too shallow for navigable pur.
poses, such as the floating of logs and rafts of
timber. Therefore, as public highways, all such
streams are under the control of the state author-
ity, and subject to all proper police regulations,
as much so as a land highway. But if a stream,
in its natural condition, is not thus useful, and has.
been created so by the subsequent labor of the
owners of the soil, it is not public property nor
liable to police regulations as such; and it remains
in the nature of a private way or easement, unless
the owner chooses to dedicate it to public use.
It has been held that a legislature may determine
what streams within the boundaries of a state
are navigable, and subject to police regulations as
highways (Glover vs. Powell, 2 Stockt., 211); still,
this proposition is combated with the rule of law
that the legislature can not, by a simple declara-
tion, appropriate private property to public use
without just compensation. – While general con-
trol and regulation of navigable streams rest with
POLICE POWER OF A STATE.
215
the state authorities, there are certain restrictions
upon this right emanating from the constitutional
power of congress over commerce with foreign
nations and between the states. Wherever a river
forms a highway upon which foreign commerce
or that between the states is conducted, it passes
under the control of congress, on account of this
constitutional restriction. But, as already ob-
served, should congress fail for any reason to ex-
ert this power, or if, having exercised it, the state
law should not conflict with the national, the fact
that a stream is navigable would not bar a state
from adopting just regulations for its use and con-
trol. — Under the decisions of the federal courts,
a state can not grant an exclusive monopoly for
the navigation of any part of the waters within
its jurisdiction upon which commerceis conducted
under coasting licenses by authority of congress,
as such grant would conflict with the power which
congress has exercised. But if the upper waters
of a stream lying within its limits are wholly
separated from tide water by impassable falls, and
are not a continuous stream Open to foreign or
state commerce, a state law granting exclusive
control to a party to navigate them can not be
voided on the ground of conflict with the au-
thority of congress to regulate commerce. — It is
competent for a state to exact toll from all com-
merce passing through its navigable waters for the
benefit of any improvement by the state where it
has expended money, although the stream may be
one over which the regulations of commerce ex-
tend, because the state has the same right to
improve a water as a land highway. — A state
may direct the construction of bridges over navi-
gable streams for highway purposes, although
they may in some degree interfere with free nav-
igation. If congress has no control over the
stream, the right can not be questioned at all
on the ground of public inconvenience. If the
stream is under the control of congress, it becomes
necessary to determine whether or not the con-
struction of such a bridge will conflict with its
regulations. Although the bridge to some extent
may prove a hindrance to commerce, it is not
absolutely unlawful for a state to construct it, if
the general traffic of the country be aided rather
than depressed by its construction; as the naviga-
tion of a stream may be far less important than
the construction of a bridge, and its obstruction
be a much lighter burden upon the people than a
break in the line of railroad travel by compelling
the use of a ferry, with its dilatory operations, es-
pecially when draws are so constructed as to admit
the passage of vessels through the bridges with
but slight inconvenience and loss of time. The
decision of the question, however, does not rest
with the state authority as to the relative character
of obstructions, but with the federal courts, which
have jurisdiction to determine the same, and cause
the removal of the obstruction if it be found to
unnecessarily impede or destroy the traffic upon
the stream. — As ferries over navigable streams
are but the creation of highways, the states may
lawfully establish them, grant licenses for keeping
the same, and prohibit persons from engaging in
Such Occupations without such license, and it does
not impair the right of a state to enact such laws,
though a part of the waters be without the juris-
diction of the state, or a highway for interstate
or foreign commerce. —Dams may also be con-
structed by state authority across navigable
streams; and such as involve no question of fed-
eral authority are exempt from being declared a
nuisance, through legislative consent to construct
them; and so long as the builder confines himself
to the provisions of the legislative charter, he like-
wise is exempt from any liability to private action
for injury to river navigation. — A state possesses
the same power to regulate the speed, mode of
travel and general conduct of ships and other
vessels upon its water highways that it does upon
its land highways, subject, however, to the limi-
tation that its ordinances must not conflict with
the laws of congress for the regulation of foreign
and domestic commerce. — There are some ex-
treme points to which the police power of a state
may extend, where the control of property by
individual owners may be interfered with and
even destroyed by public authority, when the
owners themselves have performed all the duties
of good citizenship, and in no way violated a law
or defied public authority. Such cases are to be
cited, when the public exigency is so great, and the
public interests so overwhelming, as to justify its
seizure and destruction, on the highest grounds of
public interest. Such would be the seizure and
destruction of private property to prevent the
spread of flames, the advance of a pestilence or
an invading army, or any other great calamity
where the highest interests of the public are in-
volved. In all such cases the rights of indi-
viduals, which in times of peace and health and
Order are inalienable, in periods of public calamity
sink out of sight, and in all things relating to the
public danger private rights yield instantly to the
inexorable law of public necessity. — The police
power of a state enables a community to protect
itself by the establishment of precautionary meas-
ures against the destruction of life or health or
property, by the enactment of ordinances defining
the limits, within the denser portions of towns,
cities and villages, within which buildings com-
posed of inflammable materials can not be erected.
Wharf lines may be established, although they
may prevent the owners of water fronts from
erecting buildings on that which constitutes pri-
vate property. For the protection of a harbor, a
legislative enactment may prevent the removal of
stones, Sand or gravel from the beach, under pen-
alties, applicable to the owners of the soil equally
with all other persons. – Under the police power
of a state, a special use of property may at times
be prohibited, where, by the change of circum-
stances surrounding it, and without any offense or
even dereliction of duty by the owner, that which
was once lawful and unobjectionable becomes a
public nuisance and inimical to the life and health
216
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
of the community. Bridges and mill dams that
occasion overflows or accrete such substances as
produce miasmatic growths of vegetation, may be
removed or destroyed for this cause. Cemeteries
and graveyards, and bone boiling and refining es-
tablishments, whose locus ºn quo was once remote
from the heart of a city, but which from Swift
urban growth have become incorporated within
the limits of the same, and hence detrimental to
the health of the population, are liable to be closed
for such purposes. The keeping of gunpowder
in large quantities, or dynamite in towns, villages
or cities, may by law be prohibited; the sale of
poisonous drugs, unless properly labeled or by
order of a practicing physician; the keeping for
sale of unwholesome provisions and all other del-
eterious substances; unmuzzled dogs running at
large, and all such acts, are liable to be forbidden
under the authority granted the state to provide
for the abatement of nuisances, whether occa-
sioned by the offense of the individual or not. —
Another matter of great public importance, over
which the police power of a state has full and
complete jurisdiction, is the preservation of the
public morals. Under this power the legislature
may, by special enactment, prohibit the keeping,
sale or exhibition of indecent or immoral books
or pictures, and cause the seizure and destruction
of the same, wherever found; close up places of
amusement where gaming is resorted to, or regu-
late them by license, or forbid the keeping of gam-
ing implements for gaming purposes. It may
likewise provide such regulations as will prevent
the keeping and use of stallions or other breeding
animals in public places. It may likewise pro-
vide for the compulsory observance of the Chris-
tian Sabbath on the first day of the week. — Under
this power, markets may be regulated, special
places assigned for the venders of special articles,
licenses granted, weights and measures established,
and merchants and dealers compelled, under pen-
alty, to comply with all such regulations. – Such
are some of the police powers of the state. They
are of such intricacy as to pervade all conditions
of business and society. Those enumerated are
sufficient to illustrate the authority of the state to
establish varied and far-reaching regulations as to
the time, manner and circumstances under which
its citizens shall maintain and enjoy their rights
without conflicting with these great constitutional
principles which have been finally settled for the
defense of private rights and property.
JNO. W. CLAMPITT.
POLITICAL ARITHMETIC.
METIC, POLITICAL.)
(See ARITH-
POLITICAL ASSESSMENTS.
MENTs, POLITICAL.)
(See ASSESS-
POLITICAL ECONOMY. I. Preliminary
Considerations. In a Cyclopædia like the present
it would seem that the article ‘‘ Political Econ-
omy" should form one of the central points of the
must blush for the science,
whole work. It would perhaps be such, if we
desired to embrace under this term the various
considerations which commend the study of eco-
nomic science to those whom it interests, and
to set forth the many advantages which may be
derived from it. It would be so likewise, if in
the article “Political Economy” we attempted
to touch upon all the subjects which the science
embraces, either for the purpose of showing their
importance or their connection. We can not
enter into such detail here. We wish simply to
define political economy, to give it a point of
departure, a formula; to determine its character
and object, and to indicate, as far as possible, its
extent and limits. – It would be mistaking the
nature of such a task to suppose that it can be
performed in a few lines. It is not as easy as one
might think at first to give an exact definition of
political economy, or at least a satisfactory one,
one around which all adepts in the science might
rally. Many authors, beginning with Adam
Smith, have attempted it, but no one seems to
have succeeded. Whatever may be the real merit
of certain definitions hitherto given, it is certain
that, up to the present time, not a single one has
been accepted without dispute. It has even fre-
quently happened (and this is a more, serious mat-
ter) that the very ones who furnished them, sub-
sequently contradicted or modified them in the
course of their works. It would perhaps be more
correct to say that there is not one of these defi-
nitions to which its author himself remained faith-
ful in the manner in which he conceived and
treated his subject. This has caused some of the
later teachers of the science to say, that political
economy has yet to be defined. “Even if we
” says Rossi, “the
economist must confess that the first question still
to be examined is this: ‘What is political econ-
omy? what is its object, its extent, its limits?’”
There is no reason to blush, we think, for being
still obliged to put such a question, when we con-
sider the natural difficulties it presents; but we
must agree, with Rossi, that it is still awaiting a
solution. A Belgian writer, Arrivabene, has
called attention to this truth in his introduction to
a translation of Senior’s “Lectures on Political
Economy,” in terms more emphatic than those
used by Rossi, bitterly deploring the vagueness,
the obscurity, the incoherence, and especially the
insufficiency, of all the definitions hazarded by the
masters of the science, and calling loudly for a
more satisfactory and precise formula. To make
this clear, we here reproduce some of the defini-
tions furnished by economists generally considered
to be of the highest authority. — Adam Smith was
usually very sparing of definitions. He, however,
gave a few here and there, and they characterized
or defined, in the course of his work, the Science
which he treated. “Political economy, consid-
ered as a branch of the science of a statesman or
legislator, proposes two distinct objects: first, to
supply a plentiful revenue or subsistence for the
people, or, more properly, to enable them to pro-
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
217
vide such a revenue or subsistence for themselves;
and secondly, to supply the state or common-
wealth with a revenue sufficient for the public
services. It proposes to enrich both the people
and the sovereign.” (“Wealth of Nations,” book
iv., introduction.) Without discussing the relative
merit of this definition, we shall simply remark
that it has in view much less a science than an
art, although the idea of a science is put forward
in it, and although the word “science” is to be
found in it. The author, in fact, appears to enun-
ciate a series of precepts which would indeed
constitute an art; but not an exposition or an ex-
planation of certain natural phenomena, which
alone can constitute a science. In substance, if
not in form, Adam Smith's definition is nearly
like that given by J. J. Rousseau under the term
&conomie politique, in the Encyclopédie. We know,
however, how widely Adam Smith differed from
Rousseau, not only in his conclusions, but espe-
cially in his manner of treating his subject. On
the other hand, his definition differs greatly,
as we shall see, from that of J. B. Say, who fol-
lowed in his footsteps, and looked on the science
as Smith himself had done. — J. B. Say, in the
beginning of his treatise, and even as title to this
treatise, gave his principal definition of political
economy, the one which has since been most
frequently reproduced : “A Treatise on Politi-
cal Economy, or a simple exposition of the man-
ner in which wealth is produced, distributed
and consumed.” Whatever may be thought of
this formula, it is at least very much superior
to that of Adam Smith, in this especially, that
it suggests the idea of a real science, and not
merely of an art, since it describes an exposition
or explanation of certain phenomena presented to
our observation. But is this formula really sat-
isfactory? and will it be final? Assuredly not.
Men may still disagree as to the nature of the
phenomena which it presents for the study of
economists, as well as to the extent of the field
which it opens to their exploration. And this all
the more, since on this last point especially J. B.
Say has not always been consistent with himself.
In the formula which we have just quoted, he
seems to confine the economist to a study of the
material facts relating to the production and dis-
tribution of wealth; but elsewhere, notably in his
Cours, he brings into its domain all facts relating
to social life. “The object of political economy,”
he says, “seems till now to have been restricted
to a knowledge of the laws which govern the pro-
duction, distribution and consumption of wealth.
This is how I considered it myself in my Traité
d’Economie Politique.” “Still,” he adds, “it may
be seen, even in that work, that the Science
touches everything in human Society, and em.
braces the whole social system.” (Cours d'écono-
mie politique, p. 4.) We might add, that in other
parts of his works J. B. Say again defines polit-
ical economy in a way altogether different from
that in which he defined it in his Traité and his
Cours. The following, for instance, taken from
manuscript notes found after his death, has some-
times been quoted : “Political economy is the
science of the interests of society, and like every
real science is founded on experience, the results
of which, grouped and arranged methodically,
are principles and general truths.” But it is evi-
dent that this is less a definition than a qualification,
such as every author has the right to introduce in
the course of his works, in order to bring out the
dignity and importance of the subject he is treat-
ing.— According to Sismondi, “the physical well-
being of man, so far as it can be the work of his
government, is the object of political economy.”
This is very different from J. B. Say's first defini.
tion. In the first place, it takes us out of the
realm of science into the realm of art; for, accord-
ing to this formula, political economy must be
merely a series of rules intended to instruct gov-
ernments how to insure the physical well-being of
man; it is therefore an art, a branch of the art of
government. Very much limited, from a certain
point of view, since governments alone can prac-
tice it, this art is, in other respects, without as-
signable limits; for what are the acts of a gov-
ernment that have not to do, more or less, with
the physical well-being of man? — According to
Storch, “Political economy is the science of the
natural laws which determine the prosperity of
nations, that is to say, their wealth and their civ-
ilization.” Preferable to Sismondi's, because it
suggests at least the idea of a science, this defini-
tion is still very imperfect. “The natural laws
which determine the prosperity of nations,” pre-
sent, to our thinking, too complex an idea, and,
in any case, a very vague one; and as to civili-
zation, it certainly includes, in its general ex-
pression, things with which an economist, as such,
has nothing to do. — There is nothing in Malthus
or Ricardo which can be taken as a precise defi-
nition of political economy. In the case of Ri-
cardo the reason may be, that in his “Principles
of Political Economy and Taxation,” being con-
fined, as he says himself in his preface, to defining
the laws regulating the distribution of revenue
among the various classes of Society, he did not
consider the science as a whole. It may, however,
be inferred from these words, that, if he had had
to define science in a general \manner, he would
have defined it very nearly as J. B. Say had done
in his Thaïté. — As to Rossi, after he had discussed
and rejected, one after another, all the definitions
given before his time, he, absolutely speaking,
gave nothing in their stead. He contents himself
with saying that there are phenomena of a certain
order relating to wealth which are not confounded
with those of any other order, and that these are
just what economic science should study. Politi-
cal economy is, therefore, in his eyes, as he says
elsewhere, purely and simply the “science of
wealth.” Hence, he thinks, that, setting aside
the strangeness of the words, one might call econ-
omists chrysologists, chrematisticians or divitiaries,
without giving them cause of complaint. —We
may here close our review of the definitions of
218
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
political economy. What we have stated suffices
to show how far the definition of economic science,
or the general formula which covers it, is from be-
ing finally fixed. – Now, should we be ashamed
of this uncertainty, as Rossi seemed to think?
Must we lament it, with Arrivabene and some
other writers? We do not think so. A science
does not depend on the definition given of it; it is
not regulated by an arbitrary formula which may
be more or less happy, more or less exact; on the
contrary, it is the definition which should come
after, mould itself, so to speak, to the science as
it exists. So much the worse for writers who
cultivate a certain branch of human knowledge,
if they are unable to grasp its general data and
clothe these data with a fitting expression; but
this does not in any way impair the stock of
truth which they have to bring to light. — “A
science,” says J. B. Say, “makes real progress
only when its masters have succeeded in deter-
mining the territory over which they may extend
their researches, and what should be the object of
their research.” (Traité, Discours Préliminaire.)
There is doubtless some truth in this statement.
It is well, perhaps even necessary, that the object
of a science and the field it covers should be prop-
erly determined; but it is not absolutely necessary
that this determination should result from defini-
tions hazarded by authors: it is enough if it re-
sults from the very nature of their labors. Now,
it may well happen that the nature of these labors
may be essentially the same for all, while the defi-
nitions are different ; each author having been
led by a kind of instinct to confine himself to a
certain order of phenomena, without afterward
being able to render an account to himself of the
precise object of his researches, or to measure
exactly the field he has gone over. And this is
really what takes place. We have just seen how
much the authors cited differ in regard to the
definition of the science, and still the sum and
substance of their works are always the Same.
Who does not know that this is the case with
Adam Smith and J. B. Say? It is the case, too,
with all the others, in spite of a few slight differ-
ences as to the greater or less extent of the ground
they embrace. —It is one thing to feel or express,
and another to conceive or define. It is sometimes
very difficult to clothe a single thought in a just ex-
pression or a fitting formula; the difficulty is much
greater when there is question of including a great
number of ideas and facts in a single formula. It
is not to be wondered at that many writers have
failed in this task, in this sense, that the defini-
tions which they give are nothing but more or
less unfaithful translations of their own concep-
tions. J. B. Say acknowledges that this is true
in his own case, since he recognizes that his Traité
went everywhere beyond the limits, if the expres-
sion be allowed, marked out by his definition.
And still he is, perhaps, of all economists, the
one who has remained the most faithful to the
formula which he had adopted. There is much
more to be reprehended in Adam Smith and Sis-
mondi in this regard. If we look, for example,
at the manner in which the latter defines the sci-
ence, we might think he was going to confine
himself, as J. J. Rousseau had done, to laying
down the rules which governments should observe
in regard to the material interests of the people;
and still, like all other economists since Quesnay,
Turgot and Adam Smith, he has discussed the
questions of exchange, division of labor, accumu-
lation, Savings, the production and distribution of
wealth, the laws regulating the value of things,
those determining the rate of wages, profits, etc.,
etc.; things in which governments have almost
nothing to do. So true is it that his definition is
simply an error, and an error of no consequence,
an ill-chosen but empty formula, which in no
way influences the real character of his labors.—
It would be very desirable, however, to find for
political economy a more satisfactory definition.
than those hitherto given, a formula at once more
comprehensive and more precise, in which the
whole science might, so to speak, be reflected in a
few words. Will this formula be found 2 Per-
haps. Without flattering ourselves with having
found it, we shall try to point out the road to its
formulation by determining, as far as possible, the
real object which the science proposes to itself,
and the extent of its domain. — The first question
to be solved is, whether political economy belongs.
to the category of science, or merely to the cate-
gory of art. We have already seen, from what
precedes, that the question is not an idle One,
especially not idle since the distinction to be made
between science and art does not appear to be
generally understood. — II. To what order does
Political Economy belong 3 Is it a Science or an.
Art? “An art,” says Destutt de Tracy, “is a col-
lection of maxims or practical precepts, the Ob-
servance of which leads to success in doing a
thing, no matter what it may be; a science con-
sists in the truths resulting from the examination
of any subject whatever. Art consists, therefore,
in a series of precepts or rules to be followed ;
science, in the knowledge of certain phenomena
or certain observed and revealed relations.” We
are not concerned here with examining which of
the two is superior to the other, art or science; both
may have equal merits, each in its place; it is solely
a question of showing in what they differ as to
their object and methods of procedure. Art coun-
sels, prescribes, directs; science observes, exposes,
explains. When an astronomer observes and de-
scribes the course of the stars, he cultivates Sci-
ence; but when, his observations made, he deduces
from them rules to be applied in navigation, he is
engaged in art. He may be equally right in the
two cases; but his object is different, as well as
his method of working. Hence, observing and
describing real phenomena is science; dictating
precepts, laying down rules, is art. — Art and
science often have close connections, in this sense
especially, that the precepts of art must be derived
as far as possible from the observations of Science,
but they are none the less different from it on
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
219
that account. Notwithstanding this, they are con-
founded every day. A man striving to build up
an art gives it emphatically the name of science,
believing that by doing so he gives a high idea of
the correctness of its precepts. It is notoriously
the weak side of physicians to call medicine a
science. They are mistaken in the use of the
word. If medicine were as certain in its prescrip-
tions as it is uncertain, it would still be no more
than an art,” the art of healing, since it consists
in a collection of rules applicable to the cure of
human diseases. But anatomy is a science; phys-
iology is a science; because anatomy and physi-
ology both have as their object a knowledge of
the human body, which they study, the one in its
structure, the other in the play of its organs. –
Rossi grasped this distinction between science and
art well, though he abused it by improperly con-
founding it with the distinction which is made
frequently enough between theory and practice. }
“Properly speaking,” he says, “science has no
object. The moment we try to discover what use
can be made of it, what profit may be drawn
from it, we leave science and come to art. Science
is in all cases nothing more or less than the pos-
session of truth, the well-considered knowledge
of relations inherent in the nature of things.”
Here we have, under another form, the same
thought so accurately expressed by Destutt de
Tracy. —This distinction being well drawn be-
tween science and art, we may now ask, to which
of the two orders of ideas does political economy
belong? Is it a collection of precepts, a theory
of action, or only an assemblage of truths bor-
rowed from the observation of actual phenomena?
Does it show us how to do something? or does it
explain what takes place? In other words, is it a
science, or an art? We need not hesitate to an-
swer that, in its present condition, political econ-
omy is both the one and the other; that is to say,
in the direction of economic labors and studies a
common name is still given to things which might
* We may use the expression medical sciences, because
medicine, the art of healing, is aided by several sciences,
Specially cultivated for its use: anatomy, physiology, pathol-
ogy, therapeutics; but we should not say the science of medi-
C272.62.
+ The very real distinction which we establish between
science and art has nothing in common with that which,
rightly or wrongly, is made between theory and practice.
There are theories of art, as there are of science, and it is
only of the former that we may say, they are sometimes in
opposition to practice. Art dictates rules, but general rules;
and it is not unreasonable to suppose that these general
rules, though correct, may sometimes disagree with the prac-
tice in certain particular instances. But this is not the case
with science, which neither ordains, counsels nor prescribes
anything, which limits itself to observing and explaining. In
What sense, then, can it be in opposition to practice? There
is, to our thinking, a double error in the following passage
from Rossi: “The school of Quesnay has been too much
reproached with its laissez faire, laissez passer. It was
pure science.” No, it was not pure Science; it was art, since
it was a maxim, a precept, a rule to follow. As to the max-
im itself, although susceptible, like all general rules, of
many restrictions in practice, instead of saying, like Rossi,
that it approached too nearly the school of Quesnay, we
should say that it has not been sufficiently lauded, because
not sufficiently understood. .
and should be kept distinct. It is evident, in fact,
that in the general treatises on political economy,
composed since Adam Smith's time, a great num-
ber of really scientific observations are met with,
that is to say, observations whose sole object is to
tellus what takes place, or what exists. One might
even say that observations of this kind predomi-
nate. But the directions, precepts, rules to be fol-
lowed, are also met with in such treatises very
frequently. Art is therefore constantly mixed
up with science. But it is very different with a
multitude of special treatises, or those particu-
lar dissertations whose object is to solve certain
questions relating to industry, commerce or the
economic administration of states; questions of
taxation, credit, finance, foreign commerce, etc.
Here it is always art that predominates. Counsels,
precepts, rules to be followed, all things that per-
tain by their nature to the domain of art, fol-
low each other in quick succession, while really
scientific observations scarcely appear at long in-
tervals. And still all this, without distinction,
bears the name of political economy. So true is
it that the name still belongs to two orders of
labor, and of very different kinds. – We are far
from complaining or finding it strange that from
scientific truth once clearly established men
should endeavor to draw rules applicable to the
conduct of human affairs. It is not well that
scientific truths should remain fruitless, and the
only way of utilizing them is to base art upon
them. There are close ties of relationship, as we
have already said, between science and art. Sci-
ence lends its lights to art, corrects its processes,
enlightens and directs its course. Without the
aid of science, art would have to feel its way,
stumbling at every step. On the other hand, art
gives a value to the truths which science has dis-
covered, and science without art would be barren.
Art is almost always the principal motor in the
labors of science. Man rarely studies for the
sole pleasure of knowledge; in general, his re-
search and labor have generally a useful end in
view, and it is through art alone that he finds
that end. —In view of all this, who can fail to see
how different art is from science 2 The distance
is great between a truth discovered by observation,
and a rule deduced from that truth with the intent
of giving it an application; the One belongs to
nature, to God; man only discovers and states it;
the other is the act of man, and it always retains
something of him. Everything is absolute in sci-
entific data; they are either false or true, there is
no half way; this simply means that the student
of science has observed either well or ill, has seen
correctly or incorrectly what he communicates.
There are, it is true, incomplete data, exact on
one side, inexact on the other; but, even then,
the true side is true, the false side is false. On
the contrary, everything is relative in the rules.
and the methods of art. As something human is
always involved in them, they can not pretend to
infallibility, they are always susceptible of more
or less variation between the two extreme limits
220
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
of radical vice and absolute perfection. Finally,
scientific truths are immutable as the laws of na-
ture whose revelation they are; while rules of art
are changeable, either by reason of the wants
they have in view or by reason of the changing
views of the men who apply them. — There is SO
much the more reason to insist on the distinction
which we have just established, viz., that if sci-
ence and art have frequently many points Of Con-
tact, their radii and their circumferences are far
from being identical. The data furnished by a
science may sometimes be utilized in many dif-
ferent arts.
the relations of extension, enlightens and directs
the work of the surveyor, the engineer, the ar-
tillery officer, the navigator, the shipbuilder, the
architect, etc., etc. Chemistry comes to the aid
of the druggist as well as the dyer, and to a great
number of the industrial professions. Who can
tell how many different arts make use of the gen-
eral data of physics? And, SO, an art may gain
information from the data furnished by many
sciences; and it is in this way, to cite but One ex-
ample, that medicine, or the art of healing, sim-
ultaneously consults anatomy, physiology, chem-
istry, physics, botany, etc. — It is necessary,
therefore, in every respect to distinguish art from
science, and to indicate clearly the line separating
them. This has been carefully done in certain
branches of human knowledge. Mathematicians,
for example, distinguish carefully pure mathe-
matics, or science properly speaking, from its
various applications. So do physicists and chem-
ists. And the distinction exists not in books
alone, it is transferred even to instruction, where
the study of science and that of the arts depend-
ing on it have different chairs. It is thus that a
polytechnic school is, if we be permitted to say
so, the sanctuary of pure Science. It is only
after graduating from it that the students, each in
his specialty, study the art to which they are to
apply the scientific knowledge acquired. — We
could wish that what has been so well done in so
many other divisions of study might also be done
in the order of economic studies and labors. But,
it must be confessed, it has not been done up to
the present. The labors of art and the studies of
science continue to be, if not altogether mingled,
at least embraced, under a common denomination.
Sometimes it has been attempted to separate them
by giving certain labors, which belong especially
to art, the name of public economy, to distinguish
them from others. But these attempts, ill di-
rected, and made, in the majority of cases, with-
out a clear view of the results to be obtained,
have not succeeded thus far, so that at present, in
the order of economic studies, art and science are
still mingled and confounded. Whence comes
this confusion? It comes, first of all, from the
immaturity of the Science, which has not yet had
time to disengage itself from the art or arts con-
nected with it. It results also, in a certain meas-
ure, from the pressing and ever present interest
of the subjects that economic Science embraces,
Thus, geometry, or the Science of
an interest which has not allowed those who
study: it to devote themselves entirely to the
contemplation of scientific truths, neglecting, for
the moment, the artistical deductions, that is to
Say, the practical maxims, which they might draw
from it. — Political economy was an art before it
became a science, and even the etymology of its
name shows this; furthermore, before it was an
art, that is to say, before it was formulated in
general maxims and precepts, it was blind practice
in the hands of governments. Such is, however,
the course of human things. In the logical order,
science precedes art, which should be only a de-
duction from Science; and art precedes practice,
which should be only a more or less exact appli-
cation of the general rules of art. This is the
ordinary course followed in our schools, in which
the logical order is followed. But in their his-
toric sequence, things take another course: they
are generally found there in an inverse order.
There practice precedes art, and art science. This
is true of almost all the branches of knowledge,
and particularly of that which interests us most.
Hurried to act, because he must act, man goes
straight to action, to practice, without studying
deeply that which he undertakes, and with no
other guide than his instinct. It is only later,
that, by rectifying and correcting the errors of
this practice, with the aid of a little acquired ex-
perience, he forms rules or general maxims which
he erects into an art; and it is later still that the
idea comes to him of correcting the errors of this
art itself, by the aid of a scientific study of the
subject which he has in view. There were physi-
cians before there was an art of healing; men
acted at hazard, inspired most frequently by blind
Superstition, and the art of healing, based at first
on a certain acquired experience, existed much
earlier than anatomy, physiology, therapeutics,
that is to say, earlier than a scientific knowledge
of the subject on which it was desired to operate,
and of the remedies employed for his cure. Huts
were built before the art of building was reduced
to rules, and the art of building was subjected to
rules, if not written, at least transmitted from
mouth to mouth, before it received the mathe-
matical and physical Sciences as a foundation.
Political economy advanced in the same way.
The most ancient governments, as Blanqui very
justly says in his history, treated political economy
after their own fashion, long before they knew
what they did, or were able to give an account of
the result of their measures. Later, it was at-
tempted to give an account of these results by
the aid of acquired experience, and with the data
of these experiences, well or ill understood, an
art was created. Sully and Colbert had reached
this stage. It was only in the last resort that
men undertook to study scientifically this subject,
that is to say, general industry, on which they
were to operate.—Now, this liberation of economic
science is quite recent; it scarcely dates from the
middle of the last century. It was the School of
Quesnay which first endeavored to construct in
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
221
this Order of ideas a real science; up to his time
there were merely scattered observations, and
even final success in building up the science be-
longs only to Adam Smith. It is not very sur-
prising, therefore, that the science of political
economy has not yet been able to free itself en-
tirely from the restrictions of the art from which
it sprung. — It was our wish and duty to state, as
we have done, that under the general name of
political economy two things are at present under-
sfood, things very different in their nature, though
tending in many respects to the same end. It has
seemed to us all the more important to note this
confusion of ideas, since, to our thinking, it is
the real cause of the incoherence in the definitions
Of the Science, of the deviations to which it is sub-
ject in its course, and the species of discord which
reigns almost always in its beginnings. Shall we
attempt, On that account, henceforth to make a
clearer division between the scicnce and the art,
by giving them different names? We confine our-
Selves to drawing the distinction clearly, time and
a better knowledge of the subject will do the rest.
— III. Fºrst Idea or General Conception of Eco-
nomic Science. Do the Facts of Human Industry
afford Material for the formation of a real Science?
It will doubtless be asked, with some astonish-
ment, how economic science was born so late,
how political economy in action could exist so
long without a systematic, scientific study of the
subject itself on which men had to operate. This
astonishment will cease, perhaps, if we consider
for a moment the internal nature of a science,
and the point of view at which men place them-
selves on all subjects before the light of science
appears. — A Science does not consist merely in a
knowledge of certain external facts isolated from
each other, for it is an abuse of words to give
the name science to a simple collection of facts.
Science consists rather in the knowledge of the
relations which connect these facts with one an-
other, and of the laws which govern them. A
tie, a connection, is necessary, a linking of the
phenomena which it takes up and observes, and
it is the knowledge of this connection which is its
principal study. An incoherent collection of facts
without connection may constitute the baggage of
a man of erudition, but can never constitute a
Science. Astronomy would not merit the name if
it merely limited itself to noting and naming, one
by one, the stars which wander in the deserts of
space; it is worthy of the name only because it
renders an account of the movements of the stars
and the constancy of their evolution. Similarly,
in all the other branches of human knowledge, a
Collection of facts does not constitute a science;
We must, furthcr, be able to tell the constant re-
lations which connect, and the general laws which
govern, them. — But the first condition of the
study of the laws governing certain phenomena
is to suspect their existence; to believe that these
phenomena are not governed by chance, and that
Certain constant relations exist between them.
Now, on all subjects, the first impression of men
who have not yet submitted facts to continuous
observation or patient analysis, is to see in them
merely the play of blind chance. It is only much
later that they come to suspect that these facts
may be subject to a certain order; and it is
then only that the idea is gained of studying the
laws that govern them. Let us take the ignorant
and rude man of primitive ages. All the phe-
nomena of nature are to him disordered and
capricious. Wherever he looks, he sees merely
accidents without cause, facts without connection
or relation. If he looks at the heavens, he sees
the stars Scattered at hazard, as he thinks, like
thistles in a field. In all things that strike him he
sees nothing but the play of blind chance, unless,
indeed, he supposes the mysterious influence of
Some occult power. Later, as he gains in knowl-
edge, natural phenomena, at least those of a cer-
tain order, range themselves before his eyes; he
sees that they are subject to certain rules, he ob-
serves the constancy of their relations; here he
recognizes law. But always, even in the course
of time, and ages of enlightenment, the first im-
pression of men is the same in relation to facts
which they have not yet observed. If they come,
therefore, so late to study the natural laws which
govern phenomena, it is because they had not pre-
viously even suspected that there were natural
laws to be studied. — A remarkable example of
this is to be found in the case of geological facts.
Why did geology, a science so interesting and
beautiful, appear so late in the world? Was it
impossible to discover and study it sooner? Were
the ancients less capable of pursuing that study
than the moderns? They were not : geological
facts are not of the nature of those which hide
themselves from attentive examination, or which
demand a distant search. The ancients were as
well able to discover and analyze them as we,
and they had, besides, almost an equal interest in
doing so. This analysis supposes, it is true, certain
other preliminary studies, but these studies they
could either have pursued themselves or made up
for without too much labor. Why did they not
do so? Only, as it seems to us, because they did
not even suspect that there were in the bowels
of the earth which we inhabit natural laws to be
studied. During many centuries men had lived
in the idea that the earth, whose surface they oc-
cupied, was in its composition merely a formless
and confused mass, 77tdis indigestaqate moles, whose
materials were piled up pell-mell, without order
and without law. They did not suspect that there
was any order there to be found, any scientific
study to be made of the earth; and this is the rea-
son they did not even think of attempting that
study. The same thing has taken place with regard
to industry, concerning which similar ideas were
for a long time held. It was not suspected in an-
cient times, nor even in the middle ages, that there
was any order in the industrial world, the centre
of economic facts, the focus of labor, at that
time relegated to so low a place. At first view,
everything there seemed to be surrendered to the
222
ECONOMY.
POLITICAL
struggle of individual and opposing wills. Only a
disordered combination of heterogeneous elements
was perceived, a sort of confused conflict, a rudis
Žndigestaque moles; and how could any one con-
ceive the idea of Searching there for rules, prin-
ciples, laws, the ordinary outfit of a real science?
In all subjects, we repeat, the first step toward
building up a science is to gain the idea that the
elements of that science exist, and this idea had
not yet suggested itself. It was born only much
later, when, by dint of occupation, from the gov-
ernmental point of view, with industry whose im-
portance men began to understand, they remarked,
almost involuntarily, sometimes in one direction
and sometimes in another, the regularity of its
movements and the constancy of its relations. –
And why should we be astonished that this was
the case in the past, when even to-day, after the
labors of Quesnay, Adam Smith and his succes-
sors, we see that many people misunderstand this
industrial' order, to which science has already
borne witness. Not infrequently we hear at the
present time men of some weight, and fairly well
informed on other points, assert that industry is a
prey to disorder and anarchy. Such, in general,
is the rallying cry of the schools called socialistic.
They all declare that the industrial world is given
up to the struggle of individual wills, conflicting
with and crossing each other in terrible confu-
sion, with no trace of organization and order.
All rule is absent from the circle in which indus-
try works, and chance alone controls everything.
On this account all the socialistic sects conclude,
naturally enough, that the industrial world needs
some organization imposed by a power above it.
Thus, they vie with each other in drawing up and
proposing plans of social reconstruction. — If the
premises of this reasoning were correct, if it were
true that industry, in its present condition, were
given up to anarchy, having no trace of organiza-
tion and order, political economy, considered as a
science, would indeed have little to do; it would
not even have a raison d’être. This would not
suffice to make us adopt or even discuss seriously
any one of these plans of organization proposed
to us, persuaded, as we shall always be, that it is
not in the power of human intelligence to regu-
late, even in a tolerable manner, so many interests,
and labors so varied; but it would suffice to make
us conclude, at least, that science, properly speak-
ing, had no place in such a field. The rôle
of the economist, if he had still a rôle to fill,
would be limited, in this case, to a barren regis-
tration of disconnected facts, without his being
able to deduce any principle from them. In vain
would he seek to ascend from effects to causes,
where chance alone governed everything. Wainly
would he endeavor to establish relations between
observed phenomena, and discover the laws that
ruled them; for how could he find constant rela-
tions in disorder, or law in chaos? Happily, we
already know our position with reference to these
assertions thrown out a priori by men still unen-
lightened by science. We know that for them
all is confusion and disorder. To the man who
knows not the discoveries of geology, even from
hearsay, the earth is still that confused mass which
the ancients called rudis indigestaque moles. To
the Savage, who has never observed the course of
the stars, anarchy reigns in the vault of heaven.
— After all, it must be confessed that the illusion
is a natural one. When we cast our eyes at hazard
on the moving picture of the industrial world, it
is difficult indeed to perceive, at first sight, any-
thing but a confused struggle. A consideration,
plausible enough, seems even to justify this first
view ; it is thus that in industry everything
seems abandoned to the arbitrary and capricious
impulses of individual wills, without any com-
mon principle governing and uniting these wills.
And how, it is asked, can anything but disor-
der and chaos result from the shock of so many
divergent, if not opposing, wills 2 When we
See so many millions of stars moving in the
deserts of space with perfect harmony and un-
changeable constancy, nothing prevents our ad-
mitting that a single and sovereign will presides
Over their movements, and imposes on them its
laws. But where is the principle which forces so
many free beings to move in unison, each one of
whom feels the motive of his action in himself?
This is a strong consideration, it must be con-
fessed; it would force economists themselves to
doubt the reality of industrial order, if this order
were not for them already established and demon-
strated. — And still, even without the aid of sci-
ence, if we look at industry with a more serious
and attentive eye, it is difficult not to recognize
in it at once, under the cover of apparent disor-
der, certain characteristics of harmony and order.
Phenomena appear, whose regularity strikes and
astonishesus. We gradually catch glimpses, vague
at first and then more definite, of constant rela-
tions, of invariable movements. As the stars fail
not to subordinate themselves to each other in
their evolutions, though they seem to wander at
chance, and to hasten on without order, so we
see that the myriads of individuals moving in the
field of industry also connect, arrange and sub-
ordinate their labors to each other, in such a way
that, in spite of their apparent confusion, they all
concur, each in his own way, to produce certain
given results. Little by little, chaos is seen not
to exist; order appears; laws are recognized. —
Even if economic science had not for a long time
noted the existence of certain regulating laws in
the industrial world, it would seem that the ap-
pearance alone of the results offered would cause
us at least to suspect their existence. An immense
multitude of human beings, some Scattered here
and there over the surface of the earth, others
grouped in irregular masses in towns, wait every
day for general industry to bring them what is
necessary for the infinite variety of their wants;
and every day industry, active and watchful,
answers without fail to all the wants which call
upon it: millions of kinds of labor, all different
from one another, call on every side, and at all the
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
223
sources of production, for workmen, and nowhere
are the hands of workmen wanting for the kind
of labor which calls them; all these different kinds
of labor cross each other; more than that, they
are corrected and held in union; they complete
each other; they form together an immense chain,
not a single link of which can be broken with-
out injury to the whole; but nowhere does the
chain break or stop; it seems that a mysteri-
ous power watches unceasingly to keep in repair
its invisible links. Then, by virtue of the prin-
ciple of exchange, an infinite variety of products
circulates continually in every direction over the
surface of the earth, and all these products go
direct, without loss of time, and without sensible
deviation, through countless hands, to the con-
Sumers waiting for them. All this takes place
under our eyes and is renewed every day, and it
is in presence of such a spectacle that men are un-
aware of the regularity of industrial movements
subject to law. In presence of this daily miracle
of regularity and order, men talk about industrial
anarchy and disorder! What, then, are harmony,
and order? Even if certain partial disorders, the
causes of which are almost always easily assigned,
happen here and there to disturb this beautiful
mechanism, would that be sufficient to warrant
us to deny the harmony of the whole? Would it
not suffice to justify us in concluding triumph-
antly, that, after all, industry taken as a whole
accomplishes with regularity the complex task
with which it is charged?—There is really little
philosophy in denying, even a priori, the existence
of industrial order. Remember how many sur-
prises nature reserves for man, who is always too
ready to appeal to chance. The empire of chance
is narrower than is supposed ; every day its
boundaries become smaller in proportion as our
knowledge extends; those boundaries will become
still narrower in the future. But, it is asked, is
there anything in industry but divergent individ-
ual wills 2 and what is that but confusion or
chance 2 We answer, that individual wills, no
matter how free they may appear in the domain
of language, or in the domain of industry, are
bound to conform to a certain order. In the work
of forming languages the initiative and inven-
tion may belong to individuals; but supreme con-
trol belongs to the masses. Individuals invent
words, particular forms or expressions ; each one
brings his contribution to the language ; hence
the inexhaustible wealth and the admirable va-
riety of form which are the property of human
language. But the mass controls, purifies, cor-
rects; it rejects, with that sure instinct which
Controls it, everything not conformable to certain
analogies or certain laws, and every one is bound
to submit to its decisions under pain of not being
understood. Hence, the regularity and harmony
impressed on all human languages. In like man-
ner the initiative belongs to individuals in indus-
try, but control to the masses. Every one is at
liberty to work after his own fashion, but on con-
dition, first, of fitting the result of his labors,
which is the first condition of order, to his sur-
roundings; then, to adjust his labors to those of
other men, without whose aid he can do nothing;
and lastly, on condition of submitting to the
whole, and yielding in all things to the decisions
of the Sovereign public. From the initiative of
the individual and the sovereign control of the
masses, arises, on the one hand, the infinity of de-
tail, and, on the other, the harmony of the whole,
which constitute the two essential characteristics
of human industry. If, by supposing the impos-
sible, confusion should be established in language,
no two men would be able any longer to under-
stand each other. An assembly of men would
then be but a repetition of the confusion of the
tower of Babel. If, in like manner, this anarchy
should come upon industry, for merely a few
days, the irregularity of production would put the
very existence of men in peril. No one being able
to count upon another for the Satisfaction of his
wants, each would work for himself and refuse
to take part in the division of labor and exchange,
and humanity would quickly return to the bar-
barism of primitive times. – But the existence of
laws governing the industrial world is no longer
a mystery. Industrial science has for a long time
noted and verified a great number of them. We
have Ourselves tried to show in the article COMPE-
TITION, the general principle from which they
spring. If among those which men have tried to
explain, there are some which may still be a mat-
ter of discussion or misunderstood, there are
others which no one, not even those who deny in
principle the regularity of industrial movements,
would dare to call in question. We can therefore
conclude boldly that the field of the science of polit-
ical economy is open, and that the elements of that
Science exist. — Since, then, human industry is
subject to laws; since it discloses to us constant
relations, a regular movement, in a word, order,
it is this order, these felations, these laws, which
we must study. This is the peculiar field of po-
litical economy as a science. To explain how
industry is organized in its whole and in its parts;
to describe the order of its evolutions and its prog-
ress; to refer its movements to their principle, and
deduce from it their immediate consequences:
such is the object which economic science, care-
fully distinguished from art, should always pro-
pose to itself. What, in this order of ideas, should
be the extent of its investigations, and what their
limits? We shall examine this directly. But we
must first justify the preceding definition, if it is
one, in so far as it does not conform to those most
frequently given of political economy. —IV. Is
Wealth the Olſect of Economic Science, or Industry
the Source of Wealth 2 In defining or characteriz-
ing economic science as we have above, we have
spoken of industry and the general laws which
govern it. It is evident that in this we have de-
parted, if not in essence, at least in form, from the
definitions generally received, and which relate,
more or less, not to industry, but to the wealth
which industry produces. Which of the two
224
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
formulae is the more truthful? We think that
wealth is continually put forward as the subject
of political economy, without reason. Wealth is
merely a result; and in reality it is labor, human
industry, the source of wealth, which is the true
subject of investigation in political economy. It
must be understood, however, that in saying this
we have no idea of changing the basis of the
science, which we accept as it exists. – We have
already seen that J. B. Say defines political econ-
omy, even in the title of his work, as “a simple
exposition of the manner in which wealth is pro-
duced, distributed and consumed.” Still, he draws
a distinction from the very beginning of his book,
which we must note. There are, he says, two
kinds of wealth : one natural, that is to say, that
which man receives from nature itself, without
his being obliged to produce it, and which does
not appear in the market, because nature gives it
to all; the other is industrial or social wealth;
and he declares that this last is the only one which
economic science should consider. Why this dis-
tinction, if the definition is correct? If it is really
wealth with which we are concerned, what do we
care from whence it comes? Is what nature gives
us for nothing, and gives to all, less real, of less
value, than other wealth? Why should we not
take account of it too? The distinction estab-
lished by J. B. Say is nevertheless correct, what-
ever Rossi may say of it. Why? Because it is
not true that political economy studies wealth as
its subject; because it has only industry in view,
and consequently it should not touch upon wealth,
except in so far as it is a product of industry, in so
far as it is either produced or distributed by indus-
try. All this portion of J. B. Say’s work is very
painful, because his starting point is not correct.
Still, the author displays a wonderful sagacity in
coming back, by force of attention and correct-
ness of judgment, to the real subject from which
he departed in his definition. But the subtle dis-
tinctions to which he has been obliged to have
recourse could not fail to lead to controversy, as
the sequel has shown. —What is true of J. B.
Say is equally true of all those economists, and
their number is great, who have expressly ad-
mitted with him that political economy has only
to do with exchangeable value. It is different
with Adam Smith, who did not commence his
work, like most of his successors, by a disserta-
tion on the nature of wealth and value. He pre-
fers in the beginning to speak of industry, of
man; in which, as it appears to us, he was very
happy, although he too thinks, and says frequent-
ly, that wealth is the chief subject of his studies.
In the course of his work he states nowhere, in
an absolute manner, that the only wealth with
which he is concerned is that which is convertible
into exchangeable value; but when, at the end of
chapter iv. of book i., he remarks that the word
“value” has a double ineaning, or that there are
two kinds of values, and calls one “Valure in use,”
and the other “Salable or exchangeable value,”
without declaring expressly that the latter is the
Only one which it is his mission to study, he con-
tents himself with saying that he will examine
“the principles which regulate the exchangeable
values of merchandise,” and as to its value in use
he is silent. He has followed, in this, the same
path that J. B. Say, his successor, traced out
afterward in a more systematic manner. — Some
economists, however, at whose head we must
place Rossi, have protested loudly against this
view. They contend that the utility of things, or
what they call their value in use, is in itself too
considerable, too important a fact, to allow an
economist to omit taking account of it. Let us
remark just here, that no one has said, no one can
say, that the real utility of things can be despised.
It is, first of all, the original basis of exchangeable
value; it is, besides, the principal motive or the
final object of the labors of man; for men labor
only to procure what is of use to them, that is to
say, what contributes to the satisfaction of their
wants. It has only been said, which is true, that
utility alone, when not transformed into exchange-
able value, no matter how interesting it may be
in other regards, is not an economic fact, and
only becomes such in so far as it gives things a
value, a price. But it is precisely against this
conclusion that Rossi protests. The opinion of
such a man has too much weight not to delay us
a moment in order to examine its motives. –
“There are many authors,” he says, “for whom
value in exchange is the only economic fact; they
regard the notion of value in use as a pure gener-
ality, to which, at most, the honor of mention-
ing it may be given in passing without paying
any attention to it afterward. For them, political
economy is more the science of eachange than the
science of wealth.” We have underlined these last
words, because they correspond exactly to what
we have said above. It is very true, that, to the
authors of whom Rossi speaks, as well as to us,
and we shall add directly to Rossi himself, politi-
cal economy is not the science of wealth, although
the word “wealth '' is inscribed in large letters on
their banners. We have defined it, provisionally,
as the science of the laws of the industrial world.
One may say, however, if he wishes, shortening
the expression a little, that it is the science of ea:-
changes; for exchanges are, in the industrial sys-
tem, the primordial fact which engenders all the
others; but the expression which we have used
seems to us at once more noble, more comprehen-
sive, and more exact. — But to return to ROSSi’s
argument. — First of all, it is not correct to Say
that the authors of whom he speaks merely men-
tion the utility of things in passing. On the con-
trary, they maintain that the utility of things is
the first if not the only condition of value in ex-
change; that things not useful in any respect
would be neither asked for nor accepted by any
one ; and in consequence they would have no
value, no price. But they add also that this
utility, necessary everywhere, does not become
an economic fact until, combining with other Con-
ditions, it is changed into exchangeable value.
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
225
This is precisely what Rossi does not admit. “It
is an error,” he says, “which attacks the science
in its very bases, which mutilates it, and destroys
its nature * Why? This is his answer: “Value
in use,” he continues, “is the expression of a re-
lation which belongs to all times and all places.
Value in exchange is in its nature eventual. Not
only it can not exist unless the wants of men
cease, in a certain measure at least, to be satisfied,
but it will disappear completely when the wants of
all find unlimited means of satisfaction. No one
will then have recourse to eachange.” We shall
soon find this last argument under another form.
Rossi considers it very conclusive in his favor,
and consequently reproduces it again. We shall
see directly how conclusive it is against him.
Now, let us continue our quotation. “I say, that
in the system of those who pretend to occupy
themselves only with value in exchange, science
is mutilated: a great number of ceonomic facts
remain without explanation. Why are certain
markets glutted with articles which never meet a
demand for them? Only because the producers
have not studied sufficiently what could be, in a
given country, the value in use of such or such
kinds of merchandise. The man who sent a cargo
of skates to Brazil had forgotten that their value
in use, arising from the pleasure which is felt in
gliding over an icy surface, is nothing in a country
where there is no ice. When publishers prepared
immense shiploads of books for South America,
they should have remembered that the want of
books is only felt by those who know how to
read. It is in the absence of value in use that
these economic facts find their explanation.”
Without doubt, it is in the absence of value in
use, or of utility, that these facts find their ex-
planation. But how can this embarrass the authors
whom Rossi is combating 2 What difficulty is
there in accounting for such facts according to
their system? None. They have said, and re-
peated, that the utility of things is the first con-
dition of their exchangeable value; this condition
had been omitted in the cases mentioned above,
and consequently the products could not be ex-
changed. What more simple? The authors in
question account for these facts quite as well as
Rossi. Only they add that the condition of utility,
though primary and essential, is not the only one
which gives objects an exchangeable value; that,
in addition, a certain degree of scarcity is re-
Quired; that things found in profusion in nature,
such as air, will have no exchangeable value, no
matter how useful they may be; and that in this
case economists need not busy themselves with
them. — Among the arguments which Rossi heaps
up af pleasure against this last conclusion, with
very remarkable dialectic power, there are many
which square exactly with the one which we have
just noted. They merely reproduce the same
thought under other forms. We may therefore
omit them. But here is one which seems to differ
from the others. “The study of value in use, is
the study of the wants of men in their relations
134 VOL. III. — 15
to economic facts.” The study of value in use is
the study of the wants of men; this we admit :
but is the study of the wants of men the object
of political economy 2 It is not. In the eyes of
the economist every man is the judge of his own
wants, which he expresses in his own way by the
demand which he makes for certain products. It
is the sole fact of this demand that the economist
meets by following it in its consequences. He .
Sees, on one side, men expressing their wants; on
the other, workers studying fo divine these wants,
and to satisfy them by supplying such articles
as they produce; and he studies the very extensive
and complex relations arising from this demand
and supply. The study of the demand, considered
in itself, in its nature and principle, is perhaps
the affair of the moralist; but the economist, as
an economist, has nothing to do with it. —If, in
the course of his laborious argument, Rossi tri-
umphs in places, it is when he lays stress on the
meaning and the use of the word “wealth.” He
has the advantage, we admit, when he reproaches
those with whom he argues, with abusing the
term. “Wealth,” he rightly says, “is a generic
word, which includes all objects in which this re-
lation can be verified. If an object is capable of
satisfying our desires, there is a value in it. The
object itself is wealth.” Rossi is certainly right
here; he is right again when he adds, further on:
“Ask any sensible man if, in such or such cir-
cumstances, such a man or such a country is rich
or not, if it is less rich than a certain other coun-
try; ask him if the soil of the kingdom of Naples
is more or less rich than the soil of Lapland; all
will give you the same answer. Economists also,
when they do not use the language of their par-
ticular systems, call the country rich in which
natural goods abound, and in which natural agents
are most active. They extend the word wealth to
something more than what they call wealth when
they give us their systematic definitions.” All this
is quite correct; but what does it all prove? Only
one thing: that the word “wealth’ has been very
inaptly employed to designate the object of eco-
nomic science. Let us say what is true, that eco-
nomic science studies industry, or the relations
which industry produces, and all these difficulties
will disappear. —What, in fact, is wealth? A re-
sult, and nothing more. It is a fruit of the lib-
erality of nature, or of the labor of man; a fruit
which has only to be enjoyed, and which affords
no aliment to observation. What is there to be
studied in such a fact? Nothing. But the means
that men employ to acquire that wealth, when
nature does not give it in sufficient quantity, are
another matter entirely. This is a great, an im-
portant fact, worthy of all the attention of the
philosopher, and it is the only one the study of
which political economy can dwell upon. – If a
decisive proof of this is required, we shall find it
in this last argument of Rossi's, of which we
have already spoken. After having laid down
this principle, that general wealth is increased by
the low price of merchandise and all kinds of prod-
226
JPOLITICAL ECONOMY.
wets, he adds: “If the price falls to zero, evidently
the general wealth will be infinite; there will be
no more exchanges; each having all that he can
desire, exchange becomes impossible. How, then,
could wealth be an exchangeable value, since it
would be infinite, if there were no value in ex-
change?” This, we believe, is decisive against
those economists who do not wish to consider
wealth as anything else than exchangeable value.*
But does it prove in the same way that political
economy should occupy itself with value in use,
devoid of exchangeable value? Let us suppose
Rossi’s somewhat forced hypothesis realized, the
prices of everything at zero, and general wealth
infinite. What would happen? It is true there
would be no exchangeable value, but neither
would there be any political economy. Value in
exchange, as Rossi correctly says, would disappear
completely as Soon as the wants of each one found
wnlimited means of Satisfaction. No one would
them have recourse to eachange. Nothing is truer ;
no one would have recourse to exchange, nor
even to labor ; but neither would any one think
of studying political economy, because political
economy itself would not have anything to study.
The entire earth would present the picture of the
Elysian fields described by Fenelon, in his “ Ad-
ventures of Telemachus.” All the wants of men
would be satisfied. There would be no wants to
express, and consequently no efforts to be made to
provide for them. But what would the economist
have to do in such an environment? Nothing, but
to survey at his ease a picture of universal hap-
piness, and thank God for his goodness. Politi-
cal economy would disappear with exchangeable
value and the realization of universal wealth: so
true is it that it is not wealth that it studies, but
exchange, with the division of labor and all the
important phenomena that accompany it. — Rossi
himself, as we have said, has not studied any-
thing else. And, in reality, once out of these
discussions on wealth and value, which embarrass
him in the commencement of his work, he goes
through the same route already passed over by
his predecessors. He follows, in their develop-
ments, the plenomena of exchange, the division of
labor, the combination and subordination of the
different kinds of labor, as well as the complex
relations which these phenomena engender. He
investigates the laws which determine the ex-
changeable value of things: those which regulate
the rate of wages, the rate of profits, and reve-
nues of every sort. He does not stop a moment,
whatever he may have stated at the outset, to con-
sider the absolute and inherent utility of things,
or what he calls their value in use, independent of
the-relative value which they acquire in the great
market of labor. Neither does he stop to con-
sider the reason of our wants, admitting, with all
economists, that individuals are the only judges of
* It is, however, proper to remark that these economists
do not say precisely that there is no wealth except exchange-
able values, but that exchangeable value is the only wealth
which political economy can take into account.
their respective wants, and that they express them
sufficiently by the demand which they make for
certain products. – We can, then, say of Rossi
what we have said of all the other economists,
that it is the industrial movement which he stud-
ies, with all its developments and all its conse-
quences, and by no means the simple result, wealth,
which would offer no material to his observa-
tions. When he frees himself for a moment from
the too great anxiety which the word “wealth *
causes him, he defines the subject as we ourselves
have done. For example, after explaining the
series of economic phenomena, he adds: “ They
appear in all this continued action of men. On the
material world; they are all embraced in this
incessant rotation of labor, of consumption, of
reproduction and of exchange.” Yes, it is in the
continual action of men on the material world
that all economic phenomena are included, and
it is precisely on this account that the wealth
which is not derived from this action of man, or
which has not felt that action, that is to say,
which does not enter into the current of exchanges,
is not an economic fact. —We should have dwelt
less upon this error if it related only to words;
but it has had its consequences. It has not pre-
cisely changed the basis of economic studies,
since, after all, economists have generally con-
tinued unfaithful to the definition which they have
adopted; but it has given an ambiguous character
to the science, which has produced distrust in
the minds of those who only half understood it,
and it has given too much advantage to the adver-
saries of political economy. It has, besides, over-
loaded, especially in the outset, the Science with
subtle distinctions and vain abstractions, which
have become, for economists themselves, an inex-
haustible source of barren debates. We shall SOOn
return to these consequences, but it is proper to
go first to the source itself of the error which
we have just pointed out. —W. Why Wealth rather
than Human Industry has been assigned to Political
JEconomy as a Study. Consequences of this Error.
We have already seen that political economy, be-
fore it became a science, was, for a long time, an
art. It was a branch of the art of governing, an art
which concerned especially the material interests
of nations. Hence its name, which evidently
designates an art. Hence, also, theformula which
serves to designate the special object of its labors.
Things have changed, the art has given birth to a
science; it has been transformed itself, changing
in character and object; but the name and for-
mula have been preserved. This is why political
economy bears to-day names so inappropriate to
its real character. — The chief tendency of this
ancient art, which preceded the Science, was,
whenever it had not the regulation of taxes and
the finances of the state as its sole Object, to act
directly on the public wealth; to create wealth, if
it is permitted to say so, by means of govern-
mental measures or by the mechanism of legisla-
tion. All writers who pretended to be economists,
therefore, thought themselves called on to furnish
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
227
methods or receipes calculated to enrich the na-
tion for whose benefit they wrote. We find a curi-
ous and sad example of this in the system so unfor-
tunately applied, in France, by the Scotchman,
John Law, and which had been preceded, in Eng-
land, Spain and France, by many other systems,
which, if not similar, were at least conceived in
the same spirit. Some wished to enrich their
country by specially favoring agriculture, consider-
ing the direct products of the soil as more abun-
dant and reliable than all the wealth procured by
manufacturing industry or commerce; others, gen-
erally infected by the idea that people become
rich only at the expense of others, placed all the
hope of a nation, either in the forced extension of
foreign markets or in the exclusion of foreign
products; and these last turned their attention
mainly toward manufacturing industry and com-
merce. In other respects they differed from each
other, in the nature of the means proposed; some
only thought of acting on foreign commerce
through the tariff, while others were occupied
with the internal management, the organization
itself, of industry; but whatever might have been
the difference in their principles or their methods,
they invariably tended toward the same end, the
immediate increase of public wealth. They would
have considered that they had done nothing if
they had not invented some sovereign recipe, some
speedy and marvelous method. Thus, in 1664,
one of the most celebrated economists of the
seventeenth century, Thomas Mun, published in
England a work under the following title, which
indicates clearly enough its object and tendency:
“England's Treasure by Foreign Trade; or, the
balance of our foreign trade is the rule of our
treasure.” Another writer, Davenant, published
in 1699 a book under the no less significant title of
“An Essay on the probable method of making
the people gainers in the balance of trade.” In
another style, but guided by the same spirit, W.
Potter published, in London, in 1659, a work en-
titled “The Tradesman's Jewel; or, a safe, easy,
speedy and effectual means for the incredible
advancement of trade and multiplication of riches,
etc., by making bills become current instead of
money.” The seventeenth century, and even the
commencement of the eighteenth, abounded in
similar writings, in France, as well as in England
and Spain. Projects of this kind are not rare,
even in our day; but they are at present merely
eccentricities, while then they formed the only
basis of economic works. Thus, wealth was the
direct object of these works, to such a degree
that all writings on political economy which date
from that period might be summed up in this
general formula: “How must we proceed to en-
rich a people?” It is true, then, that political
economy had wealth, as its direct object, and so
many economists did not deceive themselves as
to the real tendency of their studies when they
inscribed the word ‘‘ wealth * on their banners. —
It was from these unfortunate attempts that the
real science came. By force of studying industry
flection of philosophers.
and commerce in order to subject them to adven-
turous plans and govern them according to their
views, publicists became accustomed by degrees
to observe industry and commerce. They re-
marked their most striking peculiarities and their
most ordinary characteristics. Struck by the reg.
ularity of Some of the phenomena which took
place in this then new world, they caught a glimpse
of the existence of certain laws, which they half
noted. In this way scientific observations slipped
insensibly into these artificial combinations, the
unfortunate fruits of the imagination of their au.
thors, and these observations increasing by degrees,
in proportion as attention was directed to the sub-
ject, ended by impregnating, so to speak, with
rather a strong dose of science, the very works
composed in view of an art. This infusion of
science into art is very evident in some of the
writings which date from the end of the seven-
teenth century and the commencement of the
eighteenth. If precepts still abound in them, to
the point of predominating everywhere, scientific
observations, and observations sometimes véry
correct, are not rare in them. In this way the
Science began. But, as the invention of an art
was always the fixed idea of writers, and as this
art had always the increase of wealth in view, the
preconceived notion that the direct object of po-
litical economy was wealth, remained. — It was
then that the school of Quesnay arose. It was
the first to renounce the discovery of this decep-
tive and false art, which had been so vainly sought
for up to that time. By proclaiming the great
principle, Laissez faire, laissé2 passer, it boldly
announced, from the very start, that it did not
appear in order to give people special rules to
increase their fortune, but to set forth the sci-
entific explanation of that imposing mechan-
ism which human industry presents for the re-
This formula, too lit-
tle understood, had, in their mouths, a profound
significance, which it is well to recall. It was
not pure Science, as Rossi has wrongly stated;
it was art, since it was still a precept. But it
was a precept which carried with it the nega-
tion of all others in this, that it rejected all the
artificial, combinations which had been imag-
ined up to that time; it was the revelation of
science, and was itself the first fruit of this revela-
tion. It might be translated thus: “You have
believed up to the present time that the industrial
world was a kind of body without soul, an irreg.
ular assemblage of incoherent forces, without a
principle of conduct, without cohesion, without a
bond. You have believed that this world floated
about at hazard, and that it needed the hand of
an organizer to regulate and conduct it. You
have outrivaled each other in striving to propose
for it, or impose on it, your artificial combinations
and your preconceived systems. Undeceive your-
self: this industrial world does not move at haz-
ard; under the apparent disorder of its course
is hidden a profound order; it is governed by
natural laws, admirable laws, in some regards in-
228 POLITICAL
ECONOMY.
flexible laws, which it is necessary to know and
respect. Avoid disturbing, by your arbitrary com-
binations, these natural laws which are supe-
rior to man. Respect this providential order; let
the work of God alone.” — This did not mean that
governments had nothing to do but fold their
arms; for governments have their rôle marked out
for them in the natural order of society, such as
it was understood by the physiocrates; but it did
mean that governments should limit themselves to
accomplishing their real task without undertaking
to substitute an arbitrary system for the natural
order of society. Thus understood, this maxim,
Laissez faire, laissez passer, is one of the most
beautiful, most profoundly philosophical, and at
the same time one of the most correct, which had
ever been enunciated. It brought with it, we
say, the revelation of a science, and asserted the
existence of these natural laws, whose study is the
mission of science, and without whose existence
our science would be without any object to study.
It was at the same time the first fruit of this reve-
lation; for, although men may differ yet as to the
extension which should be given to governmental
action, the maxim, Laïssé2 faire, laissez passer,
must always be accepted, in its general expres-
sion, by every one who even admits that there
is a science of economy. Either the natural order
of industry exists, or it does not exist. If it does
not exist, you can fill the void by your arbitrary
combinations; you can fashion and direct the in-
dustrial world according to your pleasure; you
may even imagine for it an artificial organization
of labor; but in such case speak no more of science.
If, on the contrary, you admit that this order
exists, your first duty is to respect it. —Neverthe-
less, this announcement of science, in which the
school of Quesnay had the initiative and the chief
glory, by changing at Once the tendency and direc-
tion of economic study, necessarily involved a
change of ancient formulae and definitions. There
was no longer a question, as there was formerly,
of inventing an art which would have as its im-
mediate result the creation of wealth by means of
legislative enactments. The school of Quesnay
admitted, on the contrary, that the true source of
wealth is in the industry of man, in the sponta-
neous activity of individuals, and that the best
thing to be done is to let that activity have the
greatest possible freedom. It was no longer a
question of considering wealth directly, but rather
to study the activity of individuals in its natural
relations and in its laws. Not that the school of
Quesnay absolutely renounced the formulation of
an art: it could not renounce it, under pain of
leaving science itself barren. But this new art,
more rational than the old, in this, above all, that
it was deduced from truths observed by science,
instead of tending as formerly to the immediate
creation of wealth, was forced to have as its sole
object the restriction of governmental action with-
in its natural limits, and to regulate it within
these limits in conformity with the natural laws
of industry. Thenceforth, wealth was no longer
the direct object either of science or art. Thence-
forth, these changed studies needed new names and
new definitions.—Quesnay's school understood the
exigencies of this transformation, and the very
titles of the principal works which are due to it
attest this fact: physiocracy, natural order of socie-
ties; two different titles, but which have nearly
the same sense or the same bearing, in that they
both announce the scientific statement of certain
natural laws, and no longer the invention of an
art; more scientific titles surely, and more satis-
factory in this regard, than those afterward im-
agined. Unfortunately, the school of Quesnay
committed two capital errors in the erection of its
system, which caused its attempts at renewal to
fail, and weakened its decisions. The first of these
errors consisted in the exaggerated importance
which it attributed to the net product of the soil,
what we now call the rent of land, which it put
forward as the only or main source of the real
revenue of a people; the second, in the unnatural
mingling of economic phenomena and political
facts, between which it was unable to establish
the necessary line of demarcation. —When Adam
Smith, who first placed the science on its true
foundation, appeared, he returned, unfortunately,
in so far as formulae and titles were concerned, to
the old errors. While he exposed the grave mis-
takes into which the school of physiocrates had
fallen, Adam Smith permitted himself to react
perhaps too strongly against that school. He re-
pudiated even the spirit of the new formulae
which it had adopted. These formulae, as we
have seen, were generally too ambitious, too
broad, in that they seemed always to embrace at
once the economic and the political order. It was
proper, it was even necessary, to narrow them in
a certain sense; but it was neither necessary nor
proper to change their spirit, which was perfectly
in harmony with the new tendency of economic
studies. Instead of saying, as the physiocrates
had done, “natural order of societies,” and inter-
preting this formula as they had done, he might
have said, “the natural order of industry,” or used
any other equivalent phrase, which would have
preserved to economic studies the scientific char-
acter which they had received. Instead of this,
in his desire to repudiate what there was excessive,
from the point of view at which the physiocrates
had placed themselves, Adam Smith returned
purely and simply to the errors of his predeces-
sors. The old prejudice remained—the prejudice
that the economist is charged with furnishing
recipes, the methods necessary to build up the
fortune of nations—and Adam Smith himself was
not able to guard against it. What was expected
of him was the exposition of an art, tending to
the creation of wealth, and he believed himself
obliged to satisfy this expectation! The man who
had left the business, the care of enriching nations
altogether to private industry or the spontaneous
activity of individuals, and who believed firmly,
as his work proves, that it does not belong to gov-
ernments to add anything to it from their own
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
229
resources, still believed it incumbent on him to
construct a system intended to create national
wealth, and to announce it formally, not only in
the title of his work, but also, as we have seen, in
his definition.
ferent from those which preceded it; it is the
same as that of the physiocrates, Laissez faire,
laissez passer, which is the device of every one
who understands and practices the science: a
system so different from others, and so peculiar
in this regard, that those who in our day still
take the old point of view ask, with a naïve aston-
ishment, what is the meaning of a system which
involves a negation of all systems ? But Adam
Smith at last proposes, like all the other econo-
mists, his method, his means of enriching nations,
and this means consists in employing none. It is
in this way that, from a point of view altogether
new, he preserves the old forms. A man of sci-
ence, Ile adopted the ſorululae of Ilis predecessors
who only wished to invent an art. Devoted to the
study of certain natural phenomena, he gives us
lessons and precepts at every moment, and in
truth gives a great number of them, though these
lessons and these precepts only tend in general to
show the vanity of those given before him, and
that they are merely a negation. In substance
the work of Adam Smith is a work of science,
since he explains the industrial order in its natu-
ral and spontaneous formation; but his work, in
form, is almost always a work of art, where all
the old formulae are reproduced. Since the publi-
cation of Adam Smith's great work, which found-
ed, and was worthy of founding, a school, these
annoying traditions have been maintained. Po-
litical economy, though rejuvenated and trans-
formed, has preserved in many respects its old
dress. – Appearing after Adam Smith, and when
the science was already freeing itself from the
obscurity in which it had been involved, J. B.
Say understood, better than his predecessor, the
nature of his labors and their real object. He
felt very clearly that it was not a means of fortune
which he taught to nations, and he was very care-
ful not to say it was; he declared, on the contrary,
repeatedly, and under various forms, that it was
a simple exposition which he wished to make.
“Political economy,” be says expressly, “teaches
what happens and what is.” In this he had a
clearer understanding than Adam Smith of the
tendencies of the new economic era, and freed
himself, more than Adam Smith had done, from
old prejudices. Carried away, however, by the
same considerations as Adam Smith ; wishing,
like Adam Smith, to free himself from the phys-
iocrates, who had given the field of the science
limits altogether too extensive ; and believing
that he was thereby merely reducing the science
within its limits, he also inscribed the word
“wealth '' on his banner. Since that time it
seems admitted as an article of faith among econ-
omists that wealth is the special object of their
studies. There is no longer any appeal from this
decision. In spite of some isolated and barren
It is true that his system is dif-
protests, here and there, all the labors of econo-
mists are supposed to be concerned with wealth. –
We have just seen what were the causes of this
deviation. We shall now see what its conse-
Quences are. And, first of all, if we suppose
that political economy has to do exclusively or
primarily with wealth, it is utterly impossible to
give it even a partially satisfactory definition; and
we are obliged to say, with Rossi, that it is the
science of wealth. But what is the science of
wealth 2 Is there, can there he, a science of
wealth? Strictly speaking, we can understand an
art of producing wealth; but can we conceive a
science connected with the analysis or study of
such a fact? What is it to study wealth? is it the
fact itself, the result, or the means employed to
produce it? If it is the fact itself, it will be neces-
sary to limit ourselves to analyzing the elements
of which wealth is composed ; and what is the
object, what the utility, of Sucli a labor ? To
study wealth in the means employed to produce
it, is quite another thing : here there may be ma-
terial for a vast series of observations; but, then,
it is not properly wealth which is studied, for we
must not confound the means with the end : it is
either human industry, if there be question of
wealth produced by the labor of man; or it is the
operation of nature, if there be question of the
benefits which we receive from nature without
labor.—It is useless for Rossi, in order to give a
sort of consistency to his definition, to say that
there are phenomena of a certain order, which are
distinct from all other phenomena and relate to
wealth, and that it is these which political econ-
omy should study, All these explanations, in
which the embarrassment of the writer is betrayed
at every word, in spite of his undoubted talent,
only thicken the cloud with which he surrounds
us. What are these phenomena of which you
speak 2 They relate to wealth, you say, but ap-
parently they are not wealth itself. Well, de-
scribe them, analyze them, indicate at least their
character or nature; sum them up, if it is possi-
ble, in some definition or formula; perhaps then
these phenomena will of themselves form an object
worthy of our scientific investigation; but do not
tell us that the object of these investigations is
wealth, for evidently it is not. — In his definition,
which we have already quoted, J. B. Say was
more precise without being happier. In saying
that political economy describes how wealth “is
produced, distributed and consumed,” he escaped
the vagueness into which Rossi has fallen, and he
has given some body to his formula, but he has
not succeeded for all that in being more correct.
It will be noted, first of all, that this formula is
more than a definition, it is, besides, a classifica-
tion of materials; to divide one's subject in this
way, is to draw a plan, not to define it. And
what is the use of it all? The divisions of a sub-
ject, the classifications of materials, whatever they
may be, belong always to the writer, and depend
more or less upon the point of view he assumes;
it is, therefore, an error to present them, though
230
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
the best possible, as being so essential to the sub-
ject as to form a part of its definition. Why did
J. B. Say commit this error? Only, as it appears
to us, because in binding himself to the word
“wealth '' as the basis of his definition, he had
no other means of rendering his thought sensibly
clear; he had then either to say too much, as he
has done, or to be content with the vague formu-
la of Rossi, which tells us nothing at all. What
is this wealth which is produced, distributed and
consumed? Is wealth, perchance, self-producing
and self-distributing? Apparently not; Save, per-
haps, that which nature produces and dispenses
without the aid of man, as the air, the light, the
heat of the sun, etc. J. B. Say carefully excludes
these from his domain. Wealth is not produced
by itself; we say, it results from human effort, or
from several such efforts combined. Why, them,
instead of the result, do you not much rather first
take up, as the object of the science, the combina-
tion of human efforts that produce it? Why not
openly, clearly announce in your formula that it is
this combination of the different kinds of human
labor which forms the object of your studies,
since, after all, this is the only thing that can con-
stitute the object of serious studies? To read the
definitions in which wealth is made the subject
of which political economy treats, we would sup-
pose that matter acted and moved of itself, and
that man counted for nothing. This, it is true,
is only appearance; but this appearance is annoy-
ing, giving rise to many mistakes; it has often
caused it to be said, by men who are strangers to
the science, that the economist is devoted exclu-
sively to the worship of matter, while in reality it
is man, and man alomé, that is the constant object
of his labors. — These formulae, besides being vi-
cious, have become the source of endless discus-
sions, as tireSome as they are barren in results.
Starting from the principle that the object of
political economy is the study of wealth, the con-
clusion is drawn, with a certain appearance of
reason, that its first care should be to define and
characterize wealth; for how can we reason about
wealth if we do not know what it is? and taking
this specious reasoning as basis, each economist
has made it a duty to place an interminable dis-
sertation on this subject at the beginning of his
work. They vie with each other, losing them-
selves in endless discussions and distinctions on
utility, the first attribute of wealth, on value
which is its complement, the nature of this value,
the conditions of its creation, its existence, its ex-
tent, etc. Thus the science is made to bristle
with abstractions; a terror to those who do not
know it, and an object of disgust even for those
who have cultivated it for a long time. The
worst of all is, that, after so many long disserta-
tions, these writers have not been able to agree
whether it is value in use or value in exchange
which constitutes wealth. —What must men who
are strangers to political economy, or who are
only half acquainted with it, think of these end-
less discussions? They must think, and in reality
do think, that there is nothing fixed or constant
in a science in which its very point of departure,
that which is or appears to be the foundation of
all the rest, is a matter of dispute. —Suppose that,
instead of taking wealth as the subject or text
of political economy, human industry had been
taken, as is required by the nature and logic of
things, it appears to us that things would have
taken another course. The substance of the
science would have remained the same, but the
formulae would have changed, and thenceforth
the difficulties which we have just noticed would
have disappeared of themselves. It would have
become very easy to give a satisfactory definition
of the Science, not vague and incomprehensible,
like that of Rossi, or complicated, detailed, and,
after all, unsatisfactory, like that of J. B. Say,
but which would be at once general and simple,
comprehensive and clear. It would have been
sufficient to say that political economy is the sci-
ence of the general laws of the industrial world;
or that it had as its object the study of labor, not
in its technical methods, but in the relations which
it produces and the laws which govern it. These
formulae, or equivalent ones, would have been
sufficient to indicate the object of the science and
its tendencies. Then, fully to define its meaning
and bearing, it would have sufficed to prove, by a
clear and precise exposition, the reality of the laws.
which they declare. On the other hand, by start-
ing with such formulae, the long dissertations on
wealth, which obstruct the avenues of the science.
and render its approaches so difficult, might have
been dispensed with. And what use is there in
adhering so closely to the definition and descrip-
tion of wealth, since it is man, man as a worker,
whom the science has in view? Wealth, it is true,
should be the result of the labor of man, as it is.
its object, and it must consequently appear some-
time; but it should appear in its proper place, as
the fruit of labor, and then it would not be neces-
sary to define it, since the definition would natur-
ally result from the explanation itself of the labors.
which man, has performed in order to obtain it.
There would then be no distinction to be made
between value in use and value in exchange; or
rather, that distinction, which results from the
very nature of things, would appear under another
aspect. — By the labors to which he devotes him-
self, man tends unceasingly to convert all things
to his use, both the material objects which he
finds at hand, and the immaterial truths which
he discovers. Value in use is, therefore, the con-
stant object of his care. It is wealth, taking the
term wealth in its broadest acceptation. But this.
wealth is to be divided into two parts: one which
man is obliged to win from nature every day by
continually renewed labor; the other, which is.
acquired once and forever, and which he enjoys.
without labor. In this last category may be
ranged, not only the advantages or the goods lib-
erally dispensed by nature to all men, such as air,
light, and the heat of the Sun, but also all those
which man has won by previous labor, and which
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
231
are acquired once and forever to the race, and en-
joyed by all without labor. Such, for example,
is the stock of knowledge grown common to all
in civilized countries, the improvement of the
climate by cultivation, the possession of an incal-
culable number of processes in the arts, which
have become habitual and the property of all.
This last part of the wealth of man is surely not
the least interesting; but as it has been definitively
acquired, as man enjoys it henceforth without
effort or sacrifice, he need no longer concern him-
self with it, unless perhaps to endeavor to increase
it. The economist, in like manner, need not busy
himself with it, except to state its extent and its
benefits. It is only the other part, that which is
the object of incessant labor, that really enters into
his domain, for it is only here that there are real
phenomena to observe. — We have not said all
that can be said concerning the annoying results
of seconomic formulae. The necessity of being
continually occupied with wealth, which it has
made its special text, has forced political economy
to construct a language of its own, an obscure,
involved language, full of subtleties and abstrac-
tions. Hence, for example, the expression “im-
material products,” to designate simple services
rendered, or labor which is not realized in any
product, and many others of the same kind : an-
noying expressions, to say nothing of the out-
rages which they commit on language in this,
that they seem to transport us to an unknown
world, lying outside of nature. — To sum up,
political economy, turning on an abstraction,
wealth, has become, in its forms at least, an ab-
stract science. Taking matter as its text, it has
become a material rather than a moral science,
in the eyes of those at least who do not see
into its depths. Besides, it has borrowed from in-
animate matter all the appearances of a dead sci-
ence, while it could and should be full of life. It
is not, moreover, in appearance alone that it ex-
periences this; it has been grievously troubled by
it even in its expositions and in the connection of
the truths which it teaches. If, instead of a bar-
ren and laborious dissertation upon wealth, with
which it always sets out, and from which after-
ward flow, with such difficulty and trouble, the
solid truths which constitute its substance, politi-
cal economy had taken as its point of departure, or
its text, human labor, what it would have accom-
plished! It would have begun with a broad, ani-
mated, living picture of the industrial world as it ex-
ists; it would have exhibited the general organiza-
tion of human industry as it results from exchange,
from the division of labor, from the subordina-
tion of the tasks which connect the labor of some
with the labor of other men, and the use of metal-
lic money, which establishes among all the separate
kinds of labor a universal connection. It would
have next explained the conditions of the exist-
ence of these kinds of labor and their principal
motives; then, descending by degrees into the
details of the structure of industry, it would have
unfolded successively all its springs and declared
its laws. All the truths which constitute the sub-
stance of political economy would have found
their place in this grand structure. What a differ-
ence there would be in the animation of the Sub-
ject, the facility, the order, ease and clearness of
the deductions! It would have been possible even
to introduce, if judged necessary, those subtle
distinctions, those abstractions, with which the
rudiments of the science are at present actually
bristling, with this difference, however, that, tak-
ing their places only after an explanation of the
primary truths of which they are really bul,
the consequences, those abstractions would have
flowed from these truths as easily as corollaries
flow from a geometric proposition. We leave it
to be considered, if, with such a point of depart-
ure and explained in this order, the science of
political economy would not wear a different ap-
pearance, and be broader, more animated, more
living, and even easier than it is to-day.—WI.
Definitive Character of Economic Science: it is a
branch of the Natural History of Man. Its Ev-
tent and its Limits. When economic science is de-
fined as the science of wealth, it is very difficult
to say to what genus of science it belongs. Is it
a moral science? It is not; for it seems to be de-
voted exclusively to the study of matter. Is it a
natural science? Still less ; for it is concerned
almost entirely with an abstraction. It may be
pretended that it is the science of matter, or the
science of abstractions; and it is in this way that
those who judge only by formulae speak of it.
In this case one is very much embarrassed to
know where to class it. But this embarrassment,
ceases the moment it is brought back to its real
subject, the labor of man. — Political economy
has been ranged in the category of moral sciences.
We accept that title for it, which contains nothing
but what is very honorable, and which is correct.
It studies the acts and deeds of men, and there is
always a certain morality in human actions; but
this title, however honorable, is not the only one
due to political economy, which is, besides, a nat-
ural science, for in its essence it is but a branch
of the natural history of man. The anatomist
studies man in the physical constitution of his
being; the physiologist, in the action of his organs;
natural history, properly speaking, in his habits,
his instincts, his wants, and in relation to the
place which he occupies in the scale of beings; as
to political economy, it observes and studies him
in the combination of his labors. Is it not a part
of the study of a naturalist, and one of the most
interesting, to observe the labor of bees in a hive,
to study their order, combinations and move-
ments? The economist, in so far as he simply
cultivates the science without troubling himself
about its applications, does precisely the same
thing for that intelligent bee, man: he observes
the order, the movements and the combinations
of his labors. The two studies are absolutely of
the same nature; with this difference only, that
the field occupied by the economist is incompara-
.bly broader, the combinations which he observes
232
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
more subtle, more extended and more complex.
The theatre of his observations is the great stage
of the world. The order which he describes has,
besides, a more elevated character, and, although
less apparent and more difficult to understand,
that order is much more wonderful also than the
order of a beehive. The difference is measured
by that between an insignificant insect and man.
— We have now determined the character and
object of political economy, of that almost in-
tangible science, the definition of which has caused
SO much embarrassment to those who cultivate it,
and given such advantage to its enemies. It is
simply a branch of the natural history of man,
and surely not the least interesting nor the least
beautiful. It only remains to us now to fix its
extent and limits. – For a long time, and during
the whole period in which political economy was
considered a branch of the art of government, in-
dustry itself appeared merely as a fact subordi-
mate to the political order, occupying in each state
a fixed and rather narrow place. As it was sub-
mitted to the supreme action of the political pow-
ers, which were looked upon as its guardians and
natural directors, it was examined only in its re-
lations to the state. It was looked upon then as
a national fact in politics, and it is from this point
of view that it was considered by all the early
writers. But, in proportion as men closely ob-
served industry, they were not slow to find that
in no place did it stop at the conventional limits
of states. They recognized in it an invincible
tendency to extend, to spread outward, to go from
one people to another, without respect even for
the barriers which political power had established.
It was seen to possess a sympathetic virtue which
impelled it to clear away every barrier and to
overturn or avoid every obstacle, to draw together
nations the most different, and to rally them all
into the great community of labor by a universal
exchange of products and services. Such is the
essential character of industry. Universal by na-
ture, it has always been so in principle, and tends
every day to become so in practice. The relations
which it engenders extend from pole to pole; the
species of community among men which it cre-
ates, already embraces the whole earth; and if cer-
tain feeble fractions of the human race appear
still to escape its influence, it tends unceasingly
and with an invincible force to draw them into its
net. — As the field which economic science ex-
plores should be as extended as that of industry
itself, whose laws it studies, it can evidently have
no other limits in space than the limits of the
globe itself. Certain economists, however, have
been deceived here. They have tried to give their
studies a more real or precise character by con-
fining them, or rather by trying to confine them,
within the limits of a given country. Such a
tendency is remarked among certain writers of
North Germany. But, try as they might, they
have not been able to remain faithful to the
law which they pretended to Impose on them-
selves. “The theory of social wealth,” says Fr.
Skarbek, “may comprise the whole earth if we
look at it as the patrimony of the human race;
from this point of view, as broad as it is elevated.
its investigation would, without doubt, offer to
the mind many philanthropic ideas which would
be shared by all the friends of humanity; but it
would not lead to any important result in the sci-
ence, and would not advance us in the knowl-
edge of the principles of the wealth of nations.”
(Théorie des richesses Sociales, 2d part, introduction.)
We beg pardon of the estimable writer, but this
point of view, “as broad as it is elevated,” which
he sets aside through caution, is the only true one.
In order that political economy, or, as Fr. Skarbek
calls it, “the theory of social wealth,” should com-
prehend the whole earth, it is not at all necessary
that economists should be given up to philanthrop-
ic ideas, or form wishes more or less realizable for
a general union among all nations. It is sufficient
that the science be exact and true. Strictly speak-
ing, it is sufficient that it should be occupied with
the phenomena which are peculiarly within its do-
main. Among these phenomena the first place is
Occupied by exchange, the division of labor, the ,
subordination or the connection of the various
kinds of labor, the circulation of products, the use
of money. These are in industry the great arterial
lines, the primordial facts which engender all the
others; and this is true to Fr. Skarbek himself,
who, like all other economists, accords them the
first rank. Now, of all these phenomena, there
is not a single one which stops at the limits of
any state. They do not stop even in countries
which surround themselves with a triple line of
custom houses, and which reject foreign products
as far as they can. Everywhere, no matter what
is done, exchange extends more or less beyond
these artificial barriers, and the labor of each
country has its branches outside. The very efforts
made at the frontiers of certain states to stop the
circulation of products, only show more clearly
the expansive tendencies of industrial facts. As
to the circulation of money, nothing stops it, and
here, with the full force of the term, we have a
universal fact. But if all the principal economic
phenomena extend beyond the limits of indi-
vidual states, how can the science itself be con-
fined within them? Fr. Skarbek errs, therefore,
in this, for want of rendering an account to him-
self of the nature of the facts with which he deals.
Rossi was in this respect much more in the right
when he said that economic science, when Care-
fully considered, had the world for its theatre.
Does this mean that political economy should
take no account of nationalities? Most assuredly
not. On the contrary, it makes great account of
them, but it does not confine itself to them; it
could not, without mutilating itself or abdicating
its place. “We must,” says Fr. Skarbek, “ look
on the human race as it is, that is to say, divided
into a great number of societies different from
each other in the degrees of civilization and power
at which they have severally arrived.” (Ibid.)
Doubtless it is necessary to look at the human
POLITICAL ECONOMY
233
race as it exists, but if this human race is divided
into a great number of political Societies, it is not
specially comprised in any one of them; to speak
more clearly, it should comprehend them all.
The only question is, whether the facts which
political economy considers are political facts, that
is to say, peculiar to one or the other of these so-
cieties, or facts of humanity, that is to say, com-
mon to all the human race. Now, the answer to
this question can not be doubtful, at least as re-
gards the science strictly speaking; it is not doubt-
ful even in the writings of Skarbek, who could
not have deceived himself on this subject if he
had not reasoned on science, as unfortunately so
many other economists do, with the preconceived
notions of an art. — Nevertheless, nationalities,
states, and the governments which manage them,
are also, from a certain point of view, economic
facts, and facts of considerable importance; the
more considerable since it is through them that
order, security and justice, so necessary in the great
workshop of labor, are enforced. They should
therefore not be forgotten. But to consider the
human race in its totality, with regard to the
general phenomena which concern it, it is not
necessary to forget, nor to lessen, the particular
facts which concern each one of the great frac-
tions of which it is composed. Here, then, we
have the field of political economy marked out
so far as space is concerned. Its observations
should not and can not be concentrated in a par-
ticular state; they should embrace the earth. To
see what takes place in this or that country, is
not to study industry, but fractions of industry.
Even this partial survey is impossible, since any
one who examines closely what passes in his own
country, will recognize without difficulty that
each of the phenomena which he has observed
has its prolongation elsewhere. It may be of use,
doubtless, to show the local influence of the par-
ticular kinds of legislation of each state, and the
manner in which they modify the action of
general laws; it is even necessary, in all cases, to
take account of this salutary influence which
every government exercises in its sphere, by the
single fact of maintaining order and security.
All these particular facts have their place in the
vast circle of studies which political economy
embraces, but it is none the less true that the
ground of all these studies is in a sum total of
phenomena which includes the human race in its
entirety. — If, as to space, political economy knows
no other limits than those of the earth itself, we
can also say that it includes in its domain all
men without distinction, to whatever class they
belong or whatever their occupation. It would,
indeed, be a great error to suppose that the in-
dustrial phenomena from which economic science
draws its life concern only men actually en-
gaged in industry, merchants, manufacturers, and
all those commonly included under the name of
workingmen; it comprehends all without excep-
tion. We are all interested in exploiting this
globe of ours, and this is enough to bind us to the
Scene of our labor. If we are not all bound to it
by our labor, we are at least so bound by our
wants; and nearly all of us, it must be said, aid
in this exploitation of the globe, even without
knowing it, in a direct or indirect manner. This
is not at all doubtful in the case of men who hold
the reins of power in nations, or who govern
them; it is by their ministry that order, security
and justice reign in the great workshop of in-
dustry. From this point of view, functionaries,
judges, officials of all kinds, assist in the common
labor, by the fact alone that they defend it against
acts of violence which might disturb it. This is
also true in the case of scholars, who, without
taking part in industrial labor properly speaking,
throw light on the path of progress. If there is
in the world a sufficient number of men of whom
one can not say absolutely that they assist, directly
or indirectly, in the common labor, they at least
render certain services to their equals, and this is
enough to warrant us in including them in the
grand army of labor. It would, in fact, singu-
larly lessen the scope of human industry to con-
sider it as exclusively devoted to the material ex-
ploitation of the terrestial globe; it has a more
general object, that of answering to all the wants
of man of whatever nature they may be. Thus,
whoever renders a service to his fellows, what-
ever be the occupation to which he is devoted, is
connected with general industry by his labor.
Who, then, are the men who are not engaged in in-
dustry in some way? Apparently only those who
live at the expense of their neighbors, by theft,
robbery or beggary, but even these, if they do not
belong to the industrial order by their labor, are
still connected with it indissolubly by their wants.
— In the stage of civilization which humanity has
reached, every man, in whatever position he may
be, in whatever degree of the social scale he may
be placed, depends on exchange, at least So far as
his wants are concerned, which he can only
satisfy through it. Now, exchange is the first of
the general conditions of industry, and the chief
source of all the others. He is also connected
with the division of labor by the functions which
he performs, if he performs any, or, in default of
any, by the rank alone which he occupies. There
is no person who does not use money, at least in
certain cases, and money is one of the principal
agents of the industrial order. In fine, we are all
obliged to accept the value of things which the
general condition of the markets has established.
In all this we aré irrevocably bound to the in-
dustrial order, and we submit to its laws. If a
few men escape it, they are mere Savages, and
the last among savages, those who, lost in Some
corner of a desert land, have no relations with the
rest of the world; for in regard to other Savages,
they make, after all, Some exchanges, and gener-
ally devote themselves to Some special occupation
adapted to their support. Thus, the industrial
order not only extends over the whole earth, it em-
braces, besides, all men, without distinction. Thus,
too, the field of political economy, considered as a
234
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
science, being no other than that of industry itself,
whose laws it studies, it is clear that it compre-
hends in its domain the totality of mankind. —
From this point of view we can say that economic
science has no limits; but if it has not, so far as
the extent of the circle it embraces is concerned,
it has them marked out clearly enough as to the
object with which it is concerned. Though con-
nected exclusively with man, it does not take all
of man into consideration; that which it studies
Specially is human industry, comprising under
this general denomination the sum of labors which
men perform, or the mutual services which they
render each other for the satisfaction of their
respective wants. Further, it does not consider
these special services except in so far as they are
rendered under the law of exchange, that is to
say, in consideration of a return. Man, living in
Society, has his duties to fulfill to his neighbors,
his duties as a son, a father, husband, citizen; he has
others to fulfill to his Creator. These duties polit-
ical economy considers as foreign to its domain:
it leaves the care of determining them and regu-
lating them to religion, to morality, and the law.
Besides the strict duties which religion, morality
and law impose on him, man has feelings of sym-
pathy which often decide him to come to the
assistance of his neighbors without any hope of
repayment. This is also an order of things with
which political economy has nothing to do. It
examines only those positive and strictly definable
relations which are established between men, when
each of them, while rendering services to others,
counts on a just remuneration for these services,
and works in reality for himself. — All this is
easily understood, because it all results sufficiently
from the single general enunciation of the object
which economic science proposes to itself: the
study of human industry. But what should be
brought out more clearly is this, that political
economy does not study even industry under all
its phases; that, for example, it never considers
industry in the processes which it employs in the
technic or scientific means which it uses, but only
in the relations which it engenders, and in the gen-
eral laws by which it is governed. Thus, every
industrial worker, manufacturer; or merchant
comes under the observation of political economy.
This is not doubtful with regard to the labors
which he executes. But political economy does
not consider these labors in themselves and in
their technical processes; it only considers them
in their connection with the labors which are exe-
cuted elsewhere and in regard to their relations
with the whole. What is seen in an artisan is
the place which he occupies in the great workshop
of labor, the office which he fills there; but it
does not inquire how he fills that office, or at least
it only judges by results. It sees the products
which he delivers to his neighbors, the condition
under which he delivers them, and the remunera-
tion which he obtains. It sees at the same time
the action exercised upon him by all of his sur-
roundings, the influences which he undergoes,
processes.
and the necessities by which he is held to submit
to them. But it takes no note of the processes
which he uses in the branch of labor with which
he is occupied. – Political economy is in this
respect, then, perfectly distinct from technology,
and in general from all the arts and sciences
which men apply in the particular labors to
which each one devotes himself. It takes account
of all these arts and Sciences, it gives them a
place, but always considers them only in regard
to their relations with the whole, only in the func-
tion which they fulfill, in the action which they
exercise, but never in themselves, and in their
processes. The reason of this is easily under-
stood. If we admit, in fact, that there is in the
industrial world, as it exists, certain constant
relations between workmen, invariable laws, a
fixed and regular order which can be settled and
defined, it is this order, these relations, these laws,
which political economy should study, and noth-
ing more; it could go no further, to observe, for ex-
ample, the particular processes of the labors whose
relations it studies, without losing its way. Thus,
the field of economic science is limited on all
sides. It halts everywhere, if it is permitted to
Say So, at the very portals of the sanctuary in
which the arts are carried on. It touches all
these sciences and all these arts, but without inter-
fering with any, examining them only in their
relations to the whole. — This last consideration
should establish a clear dividing line between
political economy and politics proper. Politics is
an art, the art of governing a political society or
a nation, in view of certain ends; in view, notably,
of establishing order, security and justice therein,
of maintaining and making the rights of all re-
spected. Political economy looks on this art, as
on all others, in its relations with the total of
cconomic facts, but in no way in its ordinary
It makes known, for instance, the
salutary influence which a government exercises
on the development of industry, when it main-
tains perfect security for all interests, absolute
respect for all rights, and calls attention to the
wrong which it inflicts on industry when it suffers
these rights to be violated or when it violates them
itself; but it does not discuss on what principles
or what bases a government should be instituted
in order to accomplish its mission in the best man-
ner possible. This is a task which it leaves to
politics as it leaves to technology that of deter-
mining the best possible methods of manufactur-
ing in one branch of industry or another. — VII.
Actual or Possible Applications of Economic Science.
No science is destined to remain barren forever.
Considered in itself, a science only studies what
takes place and what exists, without inquiring
what use may be made of the truths which it es-
tablishes. “From the moment that we busy our-
selves,” says Rossi, justly, “with the employment
which may be made, or the profit that may be
drawn, from science, we leave Science and fall into
art.” Still, as the profit which may be derived
from it is, after all, the final object proposed in
POLITICAL
ECONOMY. 235
studying science, it is not forbidden, even to the
Scholar, to examine what are or would be its
possible applications. This is the more necessary
here, since in this Cyclopædia economic art and
Science are in many regards mingled and con-
founded. What, then, are the useful applications
which may be made of political economy in the
present, or those which may be made of it in the
future? The study of economic science will not
lead, we may be sure, to the discovery of that
chimera, that sort of philosopher's stone, so long
sought for: the art of enriching nations by means
of legislative combinations; on the contrary, the
first fruit of this study is to make it clearly under-
stood that the creation of such an art is impossi-
ble. Political economy shows, indeed, in the first
place, that all wealth is derived from the energy
of individual labor or the spontaneous activity
of men; it shows, in the second place, that this
Spontaneous activity obeys, of itself, or by the
force of things alone, certain regular laws which
direct it unceasingly toward the most fruitful re-
Sults, toward results the best that human industry
can produce. In the presence of these two capi-
tal truths, the first that flow from the total of
economic investigation, we are convinced that
every artificial combination imposed on human
labor is capable only of troubling its natural
order, and diminishing its fruits. Neither will
this study lead to the discovery of that other art
SO vainly sought for by certain modern sectaries,
that of dividing the fruits of labor among the
different classes or the different members of so-
ciety according to conventional laws, to render
this division more equal among men, or, as is sup-
posed, more conformable to equity. It shows,
and this is another of the capital truths which it
gives to the world, that the partition or distribu-
tion of the fruits of labor effected by the natural
laws of industry, is, when no artificial system
intervenes to trouble the action of these natural
laws, or when violence does not prevent their
effect, the most equitable and the best possible.
It proves that this division is continually effected
according to the grand principle which men
have pretended to inaugurate by other means: to
each one according to his capacity, and to each
capacity according to its works—a principle of rig-
Orous justice, which does not reduce men to
an impossible level, but which leaves to each
One a share of enjoyment corresponding to the
sum of the labors which he has furnished, or
the services which he has rendered. — In all this,
then, the study of political economy leads us,
and this is its first fruit, to renounce in an abso-
lute manner the discovery of all those artificial
CUIIIljillaliulls, ill (lue Search for which Go many
distinguished men have wasted their powers. It
conducts us to this without effort, by the sole
revelation of the natural order which it brings to
light. After this revelation, all arbitrary combina-
tions should vanish, because they have no longer
any raison d'être, and because they can only trouble
the pre-existing natural order. And this is why
political economy, from the first, necessarily enun-
ciated this great principle, Laissez faire, laissez
passer, a principle which may be called a system
if you will, but which has no value but this,
that it is the negation of all artificial systems. Is
this saying that political economy can not be
applied usefully, that it can not reach any practi-
cal result? Decidedly not. On the contrary, there
are many practical results, whose realization it.
can help to effect. — It is, to begin with, a first
and very great practical result to have caused
the abandonment of all artificial systems, the un-
happy fruits of the errors of men, some of which
have already brought many evils on humanity,
while others have sometimes menaced it with still
greater evils. Political economy has shaken these
systems to their foundations, beginning with that
which consisted in regulating the labors of men,
subjecting them to hindrances; including those
which strove for nothing less than to substitute
a new Organization of industry sprung all armed
from the head of some excited enthusiast, for
that admirable natural organization which human
genius has produced. This is the first service
which economic science has rendered, and if it.
had done nothing else, it surely could not be said
that it is barren of results. But it can render
others still more direct and of a more positive
nature. — If from political economy we can not
deduce the art of enriching nations, we can at
least deduce from it another art, more rational
and truer, that of governing them, in everything
touching ſlie interests of labor, in the manner
most conformable to their natural tendencies.
This still tends to enrich them, but by a different
and much surer method, which is to desist from
harassing their industry and diminishing its fruits.
And if political economy, without interfering in
politics, meaning by that whatever relates to the
form itself of government, takes into consideration
the state, or the power which directs the state in
reference to the influence which it exercises and
should exercise on the industrial circle which it.
embraces, it should also, for the same reason, say
how far that influence ought to extend in order to
protect the industrial order without troubling it.
It is, then, its office to determine the real attri-
butes of the state and the limits of these attributes.
— It does more. Even within the limits of these
attributes it indicates the best measures to be
adopted, keeping always in view the industrial
order which it studies, and the spontaneous de-
velopment of human activity. Among the legiti-
mate attributes of political power, is, beyond
doubt, that of levying and collecting taxes, in
order to satisfy its own wants. Without examin-
ing whose province if is to levy or collect these
taxes, a question which belongs to the domain of
politics, political economy examines according to
what principles and in what form they should be
levied and collected in order to obtain the sum of
contributions necessary, with the least possible
damage to the people. The theory of taxation is
therefore one of the first arts which Spring from
236
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
political economy. —It does not stop here. Al-
though the essential and primitive function of
political power is to establish security, justice and
law, there are certain other functions which can
not be denied it, that, notably, of directing in
each state certain interests which can not, without
danger, be left to the action of individuals, and,
which imperatively demand the interference of
public power. The state should interfere more
Or less, for example, in whatever concerns the
management of waters, the system of roads, etc.
There are still other objects which are evidently
within its jurisdiction. Men may discuss, and
they will often discuss, the greater or less exten-
sion which it is proper to give to these accessory
attributes of political power, but no one will deny
that there are some which it can not and should
not abandon. In all this, it is still economic
science that has to furnish the general rules by
which the mode and extent of the intervention
should be regulated. In all countries, general
legislation is necessary to regulate the rights of
individuals among themselves, and those of indi-
viduals in their relations to the public. Com-
monly this legislation becomes complicated in
proportion as the progress of civilization has
Created more numerous and complex interests.
It is essentially important to the happiness of the
human species that in its totality and in its details
this legislation should always be in perfect accord
with that natural order which political economy
reveals. It is true that to establish this accord it
is very often sufficient to have recourse to good
Sense and the common principles of equity, for
political economy itself does not demand anything
but the triumph of equity; yet this is not sufficient
in all cases. Besides the fact that it is not always
easy in the complication of various interests to
distinguish what is truly equitable from that
which is merely specious, there are in all the legis-
lations of the world a great number of provi-
sions which are merely formal, and which belong
to what might be called civil police provisions;
and which are necessary sometimes to establish
the rights of individuals, and sometimes to guar-
antee their enjoyment and preservation. It is
especially in this part of legislation that there is a
risk of going astray when one is not aided by the
lights of economic science. It often happens in
such cases, either that the guarantees offered are
not sufficient for the preservation of the rights
which it is wished to protect, or that they are
Superabundant, and stifle the action of these same
rights under the weight of the formalities which
they impose upon those rights. The legislation
of civilized nations is, in our enlightened age, far
from being exempt in this regard from all re-
proach. There is, on the contrary, not one which
is not overburdened with annoying provisions
and ill-conceived formalities, prejudicial to the
public, and opposed to the very interests which
they are intended to serve. How is legislation to
be purged of these imperfections? By a more
careful and general study of that natural order
which political economy reveals and whose con-
ditions it explains. Science has already rendered
brilliant services in this direction. To it, above
all, is due the relative merit of modern legislation,
which, though very imperfect, is still far superior,
on the whole, to that in force in the past. It will
render still greater services here in the future, and
we may hope that the world will be indebted to it,
sooner or later, for a system of civil laws exactly
appropriate to the real wants of human Society.
— But it is not to legislators and governments
alone that economic science has useful directions
to give. Individuals may consult it with profit
for the conduct of their private affairs, at least
when these affairs extend beyond a certain limit.
Individuals are forced, and more so than legisla-
tors and governments, to bend in all things to the
industrial order to which they are essentially sub-
ordinate. They can scarcely, it is true, trouble
it by their acts; for they have not the power to
do so; at most, they are able to cause, by their
errors or their faults, certain transient and alto-
gether local disturbances in it. But the errors
into which they allow themselves to be drawn,
become fatal by hurrying them to their own ruin.
They have, therefore, the greatest interest to
avoid these errors, for on that their personal ex-
istence depends. Now, the best means of avoiding
these errors is to study the industrial order in its
essential constitution, in its natural tendencies and
its normal development. If this study is not pre-
cisely necessary to the artisan and the retail mer-
chant, who address themselves only to a small
number of neighboring consumers, it is almost
always necessary to those who work on a large
scale, and especially to those who intend to em-
bark in new enterprises. The majority of false
steps taken on this road, and the disasters which
they involve, when they are not purely the result
of negligence or incapacity, arise from false ideas
concerning the wants of society and its real tend-
encies. – Political economy has often been given
names different from that which it usually bears,
and there is nothing very astonishing in this, for
this name, as we have seen, is not very appropriate
to it, and has scarcely any merit but that of hav-
ing been sanctioned by long usage. Of these
names we shall recall but a few. First, as to the
present and ordinary name of the Science: its
origin is very ancient, since it is found at the
head of a French treatise dated 1615, due to One
Montchrestien de Watteville. The publicists of the
school of Quesnay, who perhaps contributed more
than others to sanction this ancient title, have
nevertheless sometimes substituted another, that
of physiocracy, which still serves to designate their
school and their doctrine. Adam Smith, who
cared more for things than for words, adopted the
received titles without examination. J. B. Say,
though he also accepted them, did not do so, at
least in his later works and in the last editions of
his Traité, without repugnance and regret. He
would have preferred to be able to give another
more fitting name to political economy, and he
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
would have doubtless done so had he not feared
to change the ideas of the public as to the real
character of his labors. The name which he
would have adopted in this case would have been
Social economy or social physiology, as he has him-
self declared several times. This last title would
seem to us the most proper were it not likely
to give rise to troublesome misunderstandings.
The word physiology would, in every way, be
very appropriate to economic science, since its ob-
ject is to explain the action of the natural organs
of industry. As to the word social, it would not
be fitting except in so far as it should be well ex-
plained and well understood that the word relates
to the great human society and that species of
universal association which industrial relations
create among men, and in no way to political Soci-
ety, which is only a fraction of that great society.
Moreover, the word social has been so much abused
in recent years, it has been made to serve as a
cloak to so many foolish things, to so many anti-
social and anti-human doctrines, that it will per-
haps be necessary to avoid its employment for a
long time to come. — Fr. Skarbek has entitled
his treatise, “Theory of Social Wealth,” another
name for political economy, less acceptable than
those we have just noted, and which, after all that
has preceded, we need not discuss. – When there
was created at the conservatory of arts and trades,
at Paris, a chair of political economy, Occupied at
first by J. B. Say, and subsequently by Blanqui,
it was called the chair of industrial economy. It
may be that tlis name of industrial economy, im-
posed officially on a public chair, borrows from
this circumstance a certain value, a certain au-
thority. It has already served as title to a work
founded on the first lectures of Blanqui, by two
of his disciples. – Some persons, strangers to the
science, have also tried to impose on political
economy the name of chrematistics, or other names
stranger still. But these ill-sounding titles have
never been seriously considered by any economist
or even by the public. — Whatever be the relative
or absolute merit of some of these titles which we
have passed in review, none has been able, up to
the present, to prevail over that which long usage
has sanctioned. After all, however incorrect this
last may be, when it is considered in its etymo-
logical sense, perhaps it is better to adhere to it at
least for the present. It is always dangerous, in
the case of a science cultivated by so many minds,
and in so many places, to alter or change received
terms. And what importance has the etymologi-
cal sense here? It is not the first time that a word
has been deflected from its primitive Sense, either
by usage or by a change in the things themselves
to which it refers; and we do not see that people
who use it understand it the less on this account.
If the future offers an opportunity to change the
name which political economy still bears, it will
be only when its general notions are more fully
popularized and explained. The public mind
will thus be prepared for the change of name.
CH. COQUELIN.
POLITICAL ECONOMY, History of. The
history of the science of economics falls natural-
ly into two periods: that before, and that after,
Adam Smith. The year 1776 may fairly enough
be called the birth-year of economics, for in that
year appeared Adam Smith's immortal work enti-
tled, “An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes
Of the Wealth Of Nations.” The Science had
passed through two stages of its development
before that time : the embryonic and the forma-
tive periods. Men had thought upon economical
subjects for ages in a desultory, blind sort of a
way, but had produced nothing which even re-
motely resembled the science now called econom-
ics until within two centuries of Adam Smith.
The embryo began to assume shape in the writings
of those men who immediately preceded the so-
called mercantilists; it appeared in a more devel-
oped shape in the formulations of the mercantile
writers during the seventeenth century, and as-
sumed a still more definite and orderly form in the
theories of the economists or physiocrats of the
eighteenth century. It was reserved for Adam
Smith, however, to actually bring it into life and
start it forth in its career of development. Adam
Smith occupies a very similar position in the his-
tory of economics to that occupied by Kant in the
history of philosophy. All theories and devel-
opment of the preceding ages culminate in him,
all lines of development in the succeeding ages
start from him. His work has been before the
public over one hundred years, and yet no second
book has been produced that deserves to be com-
pared with it in originality or importance. The
subsequent history of the science is mainly the his-
tory of attempts to broaden and deepen the foun-
dation laid by Adam Smith, to build the super-
structure higher and render it more solid.— Those
who have attempted to find the origin of eco-
nomics in antiquity have met with poor success.
Even Roscher, with all his love for the historical
method and his wonderful acquaintance with
economical writings, has not been able to prove
anything more than that ancient writers discussed
some phases of various economic subjects—as
how could they help doing so, if they touched
upon social or political matters at all? One might
as well claim that the New Testament contains a
systematic treatise on political economy, because
it discusses the proper method of treating the
poor, and the relations between masters and serv-
ants, as to maintain that Plafo and Aristotle, in
their discussions of the state and its functions,
elaborated an economic science, or even laid the
foundations for such a science. Greek and Roman
writers, it is true, discussed economic questions.
So they discussed chemical, physical and geologi-
cal questions, but it would hardly be claimed,
even by their most enthusiastic followers, that
they laid the foundations, in any real sense, of the
modern sciences of chemistry, physics and geol-
ogy. They considered nearly all questions which
present themselves to the inquiring human mind.
But many of them they did not approach from
238
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
the right direction, and consequently their thought
did not result in anything valuable. They re-
flected upon economic questions, and discussed
them to some extent, but not from an economic
standpoint. Economic issues were decided, not
from economic considerations, but on Social, polit-
ical, religious or even esthetic grounds. Three
things prevented the Greeks from elaborating a
science of economics: 1, the abstract nature of
their science; 2, their economical institutions; 3,
their political and social theories. (Eisenhardt.)
Greek science was abstractly philosophical. It
was pre-eminently a priori. It was in such haste
to reach ultimate generalizations that it was not
content to make even elementary observations of
actual facts. As a consequence it became mere
form without content. Its theories were often
directly opposed to patent facts. Such a method
could not develop a science of economics, whose
starting point is certainly the concrete facts of
the material and moral world, whatever its sub-
sequent logical method may be. Nor was the
social and economic organization of the Grecian
states any more favorable to the development
of economics than their scientific method. Greece
never got beyond the natural economy—that form
of social organization in which the community
is made up of a mere aggregate of households,
each of which is largely independent of the
others, since it satisfies its own want of mate-
rial commodities by producing them itself, in-
stead of depending on acquiring them by ex-
change. The typical Greek state was based on
a landed aristocracy, whose members dwelt each
in the midst of an estate, on which he employed
enough slaves to work the lands and manufacture
the commodities which necessity and comfort re-
quired. The economical phenomena of such a
social organization could not be so striking as to
attract the thoughtful attention of the thinkers
and philosophers long enough to result in any val-
uable system of science. And finally, the Greek
idea of labor barred in a most effectual way all at-
tempts to investigate its real nature as an econom-
ic factor. Physical labor was held to be degrad-
ing. It unfitted a man for the higher and nobler
duties of life, those relating to the state. It was
necessary, therefore, for human society to be di-
vided into two classes, the slaves and the masters.
All physical labor must be performed by the for-
mer, so as to leave the latter leisure to live for the
higher purposes of life. Plato carefully excluded
artisans from his ideal state, and after calling a
state organized in their interest a state of swine,
he says that it is not worth the trouble to spend
any time in discussing them. Aristotle recog-
nized only One kind of physical labor as worthy
occupation for free citizens, and that was agricul-
ture. In this respect the Romans resembled
Aristotle. Senators were disgraced who took part
in undertakings which were not aristocratic, and
agriculture was the only kind of physical labor
which was allowed to be aristocratic. Of course,
with such ideas of labor, there was no possibility
of a science of economics, in the modern sense of
the term. This bar to the rise of political econ-
omy was taken away by the triumph of Christian.
ity, which made the servant equal to the master
in the sight of God, and all kinds of labor equally
honorable. But early Christian science was as
antagonistic to any thoroughgoing investigation
Of economic problems as had been its predecessors.
For, in the first place, it was as abstract and as
a priori as Greek philosophy. In fact, it was a
mere outgrowth of the latter, and for ages it did
not get beyond it. In the second place, the ascetic
influence was decidedly prominent. The doctrine
of renunciation was preached. The way to get
rich is to become so deeply interested in the life
beyond the grave that the wealth of this world
shall become of no importance. Such an idea was
as inimical to the rise of political economy as the
ancient idea of labor. Mediaeval society also re-
sembled that of antiquity, in that it was essen-
tially a mere aggregate of private households,
each largely independent of all the others. The
system of barter still prevailed. Society was di.
vided into two classes, lords and serfs. The lat-
ter lived for the former, and these, theoretically,
for the state and the church, practically, for
themselves. But toward the beginning of that
period which we call modern times, things began
to change, and the conditions began to be real-
ized, one by one, which were necessary to the
rise of economics. The first great step was the
rise of the cities. The artisan and commercial
classes began to work themselves up out of the
subordinate positions they had always occupied,
to an equality with the clergy and nobility. By
coming together in cities they managed to develop
a political strength which secured their rights and
privileges. By the cheapness of their products
they began to build up a trade with the country.
The first germs of that vast organism which we
may call the industrial economy of the world be.
gan to vegetate. Exchange by money began to
take the place of exchange by barter. The trades
unions insisted on the dignity of labor, and the
representatives of the cities claimed equal rank
with those of the courts. The growth was rapid.
Kings and princes saw in the cities a means of
humbling the power of the barons and of increas.
ing the revenue at their disposal. The need of
money to sustain their armies led the kings to
consider the best way of getting money The
thought and attention of their ministers were di-
rected more and more powerfully to this subject,
though of course all the time more toward the
practical question of how to get a large revenue,
than to the theoretical one of how to establish and
maintain national wealth. Works upon money
are consequently the earliest writings we have on
economical subjects. It might have been a long
time, however, before any system of economical
theories would have been elaborated, had it not
been for the discovery of America. To the gold
and silver mines of Mexico and “Peru we are
probably indebted for the mercantile theory. The
POLITICAL
ECONOMY. 239
revolution in prices in western Europe caused by
the influx of gold and silver from America, was
both intensive and extensive, and its effects are
traceable even to this day. Many modern econo-
mists are never tired of belittling the theories of
the mercantile school, and of expressing their sur-
prise that men ever held such views. A glance
at the conditions under which it rose will do much
to explain its raison d’être. Most modern writers
on economics unite in attributing but little impor-
tance to the increase in the amount of money in a
country. Mill says that if the quantity of money
in the possession of every individual in a nation
were suddenly doubled, the only economical effect
would be a rise in prices equal to the increase in
the amount of money in circulation. Now, al-
though this might be true of the case which he
supposes (which he does not by any means prove),
yet it is plain that, if the same amount of money
were put at the disposal of a few men, its passage
into circulation might have a most powerful effect
on the whole national economy. It might work
Out a total redistribution of wealth before it had
all passed into circulation and produced its legiti-
mate effect of raising prices. Such was the con-
dition of things in the world market from 1500 to
1600. A large addition was made to the money
of the world. This addition was in the possession
of a single nation. The economical superiority of
this nation in western Europe was undisputed.
Its political superiority followed as a matter of
course. Spain, by virtue of its immense acqui-
sitions of gold and silver, became mistress of the
wealth and lands of Europe. Prices rose rapidly,
but Spain was in a condition to profit at the ex-
pense of the rest of the world. The quantity of
money in the European world in 1600 was esti-
mated to be about four times what it was in 1492.
Bodin, in his discours sur l’eacessive cherté, pub-
lished in 1574, says that prices had risen ten to
twelve fold within seventy years. Bishop Latimer,
in his sermons (1575), says that he had to pay
sixteen pounds rent for the estate which his father
had had for three-fourths of a pound. The
European world contemplated this unheard-of and
universal rise in prices with dazed fear. If this
thing continues, says Latimer, we shall have to pay
a pound for a hog after awhile. It was, of course,
natural that men should see in such a revolu-
tion a real increase in the cost of commodities. It
was widely attributed to the usurious manipula-
tions of the large banking houses. It was fliere-
fore a long step forward toward the rise of eco-
nomics when Bodin declared that this whole
phenomenon was a mere sinking in the value of
gold and silver, and not an increase in the value
of other commodities. Just as much corn, cloth,
etc., is produced now as before, and at the same
expense of labor and capital; the only difference
is, that money has become much more plenty, and
consequently has sunk in price. But while this
expressed a great economic truth, it did not
change the fact that while this process was going
on it had produced a very different distribution
of wealth among the European nations to the ad-
vantage of Spain, nor could it obscure the fact
that money had been the great instrument in
effecting this distribution. The phenomena at-
tendant upon this enormous redistribution of
wealth attracted the attention of eminent thinkers
of all nations. They naturally attempted to ac-
count for them. The theory which they elab-
orated has become known as the commercial or
mercantile system, and was the first attempt to
systematize and arrange in Scientific order the
complicated phenomena of the industrial world,
and, as such, deserves a somewhat careful examin-
ation. This theory arose from discussions of the
money question, and was primarily a mere theory
of money and of the laws controlling its creation
and distribution. It included, however, the dis-
cussion of many other points, and it will be pre-
sented here as it appeared in its later form. — The
most striking peculiarity of the mercantile school,
as Roscher has happily remarked, consists in a
five-fold over-estimation. The mercantile writers,
as a rule, over-estimated the importance of a dense
population, the value of a large stock of money,
the advantages of foreign trade, the importance
of manufacturing industry, and the efficiency of
governmental control and supervision. We have
already explained how naturally they were led by
the circumstances of the time to over-value the
precious metals, which formed the money stock
of the world. The underlying principle of the
whole mercantile school was that a nation’s wealth
is to be measured by the amount of the precious
metals which is circulating within its limits as
money, and that the national economy is conse-
quently to be organized so as to attract as much
money as possible into the country, and to retain
it when onge obtained. They held that wherever
money performs its service as a universal medium
of exchange, the individual is rich in proportion
as he can control money, and that what is true of
the individual must be true of the nation, which
is only an aggregate of individuals. Further,
that although the wealth of a nation does not con-
sist altogether of gold and silver coins, but of
money and what is worth money, yet money is
the most important element of wealth, because it
is not consumed and destroyed like provisions,
and because it forms an essential condition of a
lively domestic commerce, and of a great produc-
tion and consumption, and must also be regarded
as an unusually important, nay, indispensable, re-
source, and as a powerful promoter of interna-
tional commerce. Again, that the vigor, authority,
efficiency and power of the government at home
and abroad depend mainly on the amount of
money at its disposal, and that great and success-
ful wars can never be waged without abundance
of money. Finally, that the importance of money
can be seen from the fact that all those states
which, by means of manufacturing industry, for-
eign trade or other expedients, have succeeded in
obtaining the largest amount of the precious met-
als, and in whose territories there is the liveliest
240
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
Y.
circulation of money, have distinguished them-
Selves from other states by a great population,
prosperity and power. Starting from these con-
siderations, the value of any branch of national
industry, the propriety of any course of national
policy, must be tried by its probable effect on the
quantity of money at the nation’s disposal. Agri-
culture, although necessary to the existence of a
people, can not increase the national wealth very
much, because its products, as a rule, are rapidly
consumed, and, even if shipped to foreign lands,
can not bring back much money, since they are
generally exchanged for manufactures. If the
products of agriculture were worked over at
home and sent abroad in a perfected form they
would serve to support a flourishing manufactur-
ing and commercial population, and money would
flow into the country in abundance. In the opin-
ion of the mercantilists, then, agriculture is to
be fostered as the nourisher of the nation, and as
the source of various kinds of raw material which
manufacturing industry needs; but as compared
with other branches of industry which contribute
to increase the quantity of money, the nerve and
sinew of national power and prosperity, it is only
of secondary importance, and can by no means lay
claim to special care and favor. In reference to
mining, which is intimately connected with the
production of raw materials, the mercantile school
held, that the mining of the precious metals is an
extremely important source of national wealth,
for it contributes immediately to swell the quan-
tity of gold and silver. The opening of mines,
them, at home or in the colonies, must be a special
care of every government which understands its
true interest. Gold and silver mines should be
kept open, even if they yield no profit, or indeed
if they can be worked only at a loss; for the
money with which the costs of mining are de-
frayed remains in the country, while the precious
metals so obtained are a permanent gain to the
national wealth. — In opposition to agriculture
the mercantile system recognizes manufacturing
industry as especially important to a nation; for
it alone furnishes those products and commodities
which can be exchanged with foreign countries
for cash, while it also prevents money from
going to foreign countries in return for manufact-
ures. It is to be regarded, therefore, as a power-
ful lever in acquiring money. The mercantilists
hold that everything which can be produced at
home should be produced there, even if the costs
of production and prices should be higher than
abroad; for the higher prices paid to the producers
remain at home. Those branches of industry are
of most importance which furnish artistic products
for the foreign market, for these not only prevent
money from leaving the country to purchase such
things elsewhere, but they are the very things
that bring in most money. In consequence of the
significance, importance and necessity of such in-
dustry, it becomes one of the chief functions of
the state to further everything which can promote
it in any way, and especially to aim at Securing
low wages of labor, cheap provisions, low rates
of interest, cheap raw materials, skilled laborers,
large markets, cheap transportation, etc., since
these are prime conditions of the expansion and
progress of the technical industries. This can
only be attained when the government keeps the
wages at a proper minimum by police regulations,
fixes the prices of the necessaries of life, hinders
the export of corn, fixes the rate of interest, and
renders difficult the exportation of raw materials,
while offering a premium on their importation.
It must at the same time attempt to persuade
skilled laborers to immigrate from foreign coun-
tries, reward and promote skill and inventiveness
by patents and pensions, by monopolies and priv-
ileges, improve the means of communication and
transportation, and regulate domestic and exclude
foreign competition. What the landowner, farm-
er, laborer and capitalist, and the whole class of
consumers, lose by this policy, is made up to the
state as a whole, for in this way the efflux of
money to foreign countries is prevented, and the
consequent increase in rapidity of circulation
accrues to the advantage of all. In regard to
domestic commerce, the mercantile school held
that inasmuch as it is exclusively occupied with
domestic wares and products, it is of importance,
from an economical point of view, only in so far as
it assists manufacturing industry by furnishing it
good and cheap raw material. Very different is
it with foreign commerce, which occupies a most
important place in the industrial and mercantile
life of nations, and must, therefore, be an object
of special care to the state. First of all, care must
be taken that no money leaves the land through
foreign commerce, or at least that no more flows
out than comes back. The “balance of trade” is
taken as an indication of the movement of the
money. In order to secure a favorable “balance
of trade,” that is, in order that more money shall
be imported than is exported, the importation of
foreign manufactures is to be prevented or ren-
dered difficult by customs duties, while the im-
portation of raw material is to be allowed, because
it promotes manufacturing industry at home.
The exportation of domestic manufactures, on
the contrary, is to be promoted by every possible
means, since they bring in money the most surely
and in the largest quantities. In order that the
manufactures may obtain a large market in foreign
lands, especial care must be devoted to the cheap-
ness and excellence of the wares and products so
as to compete easily with foreign products. The
cheapness of the goods is to be secured by the
methods mentioned above, by low taxes, etc.,
while the quality is to be assured by a very de-
tailed system of inspection and control on the
part of the government. The latter must examine
all commodities destined for foreign markets,
insist upon honest and fair workmanship, and
confiscate all goods of a poor quality or such as
would be likely to injure the prospects of trade.
It should further assist and encourage the pro-
ducers by rebates and premiums on exportation,
Q POLITICAL ECONOMY.
241
and should insure them against unavoidable acci-
dents and misfortunes. The mercantilists claimed
that premiums on exports do not injure anybody,
bc.cause they are paid to inhabitants of the coun-
try, and consequently remain at home. Foreign
commerce is to be encouraged by the establish-
ment of great trading companies, by the planting
of colonies, by treaties of commerce with other
nations, by great fairs, etc. — The mercantile
School insisted, further, that the mere accumula-
tion of money by mining, manufacturing and
trade did no good of itself, but that if the money
was to accomplish its true mission, and be of any
great advantage, it must circulate rapidly from
hand to hand. A large body of consumers, there-
fore, is necessary to any great advance in national
wealth. The state should not be niggardly in its
expenditure, for, since the money all remains in
the land, a liberal consumption of products and
wares promotes production in every line. Their
theory of taxation was, that so far as the expenses
of government can not be defrayed by domains,
monopolies, fees, etc., they should be met by tax-
ing the profits of the citizens. Great care must
be exercised, however, not to tax infant indus-
tries too heavily, and in many cases they should
be exempted from taxation. Since the power
and basis of national wealth are to be found
in a large and dense population, the state should
devote especial attention to promoting, by every
means in its power, the growth of population.
Their views on population are easily accounted
for. Society was in that transition state when
every increase in numbers, so far from resulting
in greater proverty and distress, acted merely as a
stimulant to new undertakings and richer achieve-
ments. – The above set of views, to which the
name of the mercantile or commercial theory has
been given, ruled the political world during the
whole period of modern times down to the close
of the French revolution, and still maintains a
hold in some places. It is difficult, or rather im-
possible, to say who was the founder of the mer-
cantile School, or in what land it had its origin.
It was such a natural outgrowth of the con-
ditions of society that it made its appearance
about the same time in Italy, France and Eng-
land. And although a good case may be made
out for Italian and Fronch thinkers as the carlicst
theorizers on this subject, yet an exact form
was given to these views first by Thomas Mun in
a postliullious work published ill 1664, and eluti-
tled “England's Treasure by Foreign Trade; or,
the Balance of our Foreign Trade is the rule of
our Treasure.” — One of the practical results of
such views, when adopted by Statesmen, was a
thoroughgoing paternal system of government.
The state undertook to regulate every department
of life. Free trade was as unknown as free
speech or free thought. The economy of the
world was forced, as it were, into a strait-jacket.
Everything moved along artificial channels. Noth-
ing was natural and free. There came a time, of
course, in the progress of civilization when such a
135 VOL. III. — 16
state of things was no longer tenable. Men began
to grow restive under this continual restraint.
They longed for a greater liberty of thought,
speech and action. The period of agitation in the
intellectual and religious world began in earnest
with Voltaire. It was one of his contemporaries
and countrymen who voiced the general dissatis-
faction of the time in economical matters. Side
by side with the champions of political and re-
ligious freedom, François Quesnay represented
the economical phase of this great struggle. The
system which he founded has been called the agri-
cultural or physiocratic. It is a vigorous protest
against the theory and practice of the mercan-
tilistic School. Although it never acquired the
importance, either theoretically or practically, of
the latter, yet it marks an important stage in the
development of the science of political economy,
and is, therefore, worthy of our special attention.
— If the mercantile theory over-estimated theim-
portance of the technical industries and of the
towns, the physiocratic went as far the other way
in its valuation of agriculture and of the country.
The fundamental principles of the physiocrats
were few and simple. The very name itself
which was given to the school signifies its most
important characteristic. Its first principle was,
that all national wealth is derived from the soil;
agriculture is the only productive occupation; the
production of raw material is the only calling in
which the value of the product exceeds the cost
of production. The labor of the farmer yields
not only enough to support him while engaged
in the labor, but a surplus over and above this,
which may be called the net product. This net
product generally falls to the landlord under
the form of rent, and is the fund from which all
expenditures of a public nature must be defrayed.
The landlords, since they live without labor, are
called the classe disponſible, and they may devote
themselves to the service of the public. Manu-
facturers and artisans are unproductive. They
add value, it is true, to the raw material which
they work over, but only as much as is equivalent
to the cost of their support while engaged in their
work. If they are able to save anything from
their income, they do it either by limiting their
consumption within too narrow bounds, or by
Some favoritism of government or of chance,
which Secures them against competition. Al-
though unproductive, these classes are by no
IIleads useless, since by their labor they give
permanence to the utilities embodied in raw
material, and by their improvements they lessen
the cost at which the agricultural classes can
supply themselves with the needed manufact-
ures; and so, by diminishing the cost of living
of the farmers, they render possible the in-
crease of the ground rent, that is, of the net
national revenue. Their views on money were
essentially different from those of the mercantile
school. While they acknowledged a nation to be
rich which possessed much money, yet since
money can be obtained from foreign countries
242
POLITICAL ECONOMY. &
Only by exchanging agricultural productions, no
advantage is gained by such an exchange. They
looked upon commerce in the same light as manu-
facturing industry. It added no value to the
commodities beyond the wages of the laborers en-
gaged in transportation. Since the only surplus
product of labor is this ground rent, physiocrats
maintain that all taxation should fall upon this
alone. Any tax upon industry, wages or com-
merce, tends simply to increase the price of man-
ufactured commodities, and the cost of living
of the agricultural classes, and so diminish the
ground rent and the net revenue of the nation.
The practical consequences of these few principles
were sweeping and widespread. They demanded
unlimited freedom of competition in every de-
partment of economic life, abolition of all im-
port and export duties, the encouragement of
agriculture by every possible means, simplifica-
tion of taxation, and the protecting of industry
and trade by leaving it the fullest liberty. —The
rapid spread of the doctrines of the physiocrats
is easily accounted for when we take into con-
sideration the economic and political conditions
of the time. Not only France, but all Europe,
was just emerging from the feverish and excited
period of over-speculation which ended with the
collapse of John Law’s Mississippi bubble. Men
had seen every form of property take wings and
fly away; all classes in the community had spec-
ulated and lost; but the farming class had been
relatively safe. Landed property in France had
indeed increased somewhat in value: no wonder
that men turned their attention thither in the hope
of recuperating their lost and ruined fortunes.
This seemed like a solid rock in the wild and fluc-
tuating sea of speculative vocations. Quesnay's
glorification of agriculture, therefore, fell into
good ground and was enthusiastically received.
—The economic views of the physiocrats are
intimately connected with their ethico-political
ideas. They base their social laws upon natural
laws, and seek to establish a harmony between
the useful and the just. They were not content
with studying merely one phase of national life,
the economic side, but endeavored to trace this
back to a greater whole, to connect it with the
political and moral elements of social life. Ac-
cording to Quesnay's idea, the world and humanity
are controlled by certain permanent physical and
moral laws, which man is to seek out and use for
his own ends. One of the main purposes of hu-
man and Social life consists in the appropriation
and control of matter for human ends, and so in
improving and increasing man's prosperity. In
following out this aim man must obey the demands
of justice in its connection with the idea of the
useful. This idea of justice manifests itself in
freedom and in property, that is, in the right of
every one to do what does not injure the whole,
and to acquire, possess and use all commodities so
far as this does not come in conflict with the laws
of nature and of social organization, with the
behests of morality and of political wisdom.
Freedom and property, therefore, are fundamental
elements of human nature and of political organ-
ization, rights of such high importance and sa-
Credness that in every human society they are to
be highly valued, and to be protected, secured
and promoted, since they form the essential sup-
port and condition of the state in general; and
Without freedom and property, without law and
justice, no economical nor intellectual nor politi-
Cal nor moral progress of nations is conceivable.
In a word, the physiocrats demanded freedom
and justice in all social relations, freedom of con-
Science and freedom of the press, freedom of trade
and commerce, equality before the law for every
man, etc., and the example of nature was to be
the criterion and model of all social and politi-
cal institutions. – The theory of the physiocrats
had an ardent admirer and defender in the prac-
tical statesman, Turgot, who attempted the task of
Saving and regenerating France by reorganizing
the finance and economy of the nation in accor-
dance with physiocratic principles. With his
brief and troubled career as prime minister of
France, disappeared all hope of putting into prac-
tice the doctrines of the physiocrats. The school
lost its hold upon the minds of men almost as
rapidly as it had acquired it. Adam Smith, how-
ever, who gives an account of the school, princi-
pally to show up its errors, admits that the system,
with all its imperfections, was perhaps the near-
est approximation to the truth that had up to his
time been published on the subject of political
economy, and ascribes important practical results
to its temporary but universal acceptance in the
French republic of letters. — The next system of
political economy arose in England, and has been
called the industrial system. It was the first fairly
successful attempt to treat the phenomena of na-
tional wealth in a truly scientific manner. — Adam
Smith, the founder of our modern science of polit-
ical economy, had for years made a study of eco-
nomic phenomena and economic theories before he
resolved to devote himself to the production of
the work which has made his name immortal.
He spent a year or two in Paris, where he became
intimately acquainted with the most prominent
French economists, especially with Quesnay, the
founder of the physiocratic school, for whom he
always entertained the greatest admiration. After
returning to England he withdrew to the solitude
of private life, and after five years of constant
study he began to formulate his economic theo-
ries in a systematic treatise. Five years more
of unremitting toil were devoted to the writing
of the book, and in 1776 appeared his “In-
quiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth
of Nations.” It placed him immediately in the
very front rank of economists, and marked the
opening of a new era in economic Science. Adam
Smith's career, as Eisenhardt well says, strikingly
illustrates the truth that epoch-making Works are
produced only at the expense of a whole life, and
that even in a special department they can only
be produced by men of the most comprehensive
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
243
culture. —Wealth, according to Adam Smith, con-
sists in all material commodities which are serv-
iceable to the attainment of human ends. It has
its origin in human labor, which, in conjunction
with natural agents and the results of Saving, i.e.,
capital, effects the gradual advance of nations in
prosperity and industry. Labor is most effective
and fruitful when properly divided and combined
in the various economic occupations, and when left
free and unhindered to employ itself as it sees fit
in production and exchange. Out of this division
and combination and unhindered employment of
labor arises such a distribution of wealth as Se-
cures to every participant in production his fair
share of the product. This last holds true of na-
tions as well as of individuals. – These ideas per-
vade all Adam Smith's expositions in political
economy. They should be kept in mind as we
develop the subject more fully. A prominent
feature in Smith's system is the importance he
assigns to the psychological element in human
activity, particularly in economic activity. Self-
love is the ruling principle in the intercourse of
human society; it is a justifiable moral force, and
is the most powerful agent in the increase of na-
tional wealth. As a natural consequence of this
view it follows: that nature herself has provided
for the gradual increase of national wealth by
giving man such a nature and putting him in such
a world; that the surest, most effectual, nay, the
only, way to make a nation prosperous and rich
is by following the example and hints of nature,
by letting every individual pursue his own advan-
tage in the way that pleases him, so long as he
does not infringe upon his neighbor’s rights, and
by letting him exchange the fruits of his industry
with those of another's without let or hindrance.
The free play of self-interest and individual activ-
ity furthers generally the common good also, SO
that there is rarely occasion for the interference
of the state in economic matters. This principle
is fundamental, and Smith recurs to it again and
again. In connection with this he emphasizes the
right of individual liberty and equality, and in-
sists upon the abolition of all the restrictions and
hindrances to trade and commerce which impeded
them in his day. Men have a natural right to
apply their property and talents in that business
which will bring them the largest return, and the
state has no right to interfere except to protect
individuals in their natural rights from the en-
Croachment of others. Freedom of individual
activity is the animating, fructifying principle of
economic life. It is the air in which the body
economic lives, the light which vivifies it, the
breath which pervades it, and excites everything
to activity, the basis of all development and per-
fection, the lever of all progress, the spell by
which everything bad may be exorcised, and all
that is good and great and enduring may be ex-
cited. (Kautz.) Enlightened self-interest of the
individual and the interest of society are one ;
there is, therefore, an ultimate agreement and
harmony of all economic interests. – Smith's the-
‘ble value of all commodities.
ory has been very properly called a theory of pro-
duction. It is true that he considered not only
production but also exchange and distribution;
but exchange he discussed only as a means of in-
creasing production, while he disposed of distribu-
tion in such a summary and unsatisfactory way
that his views on that subject have not commend-
ed themselves to any great number of subsequent
economists. Wealth does not consist in land alone,
nor in money alone, but in all those material
things which are suitable to satisfy human wants
and to increase the conveniences and amusements
of life. It is produced by labor working in con-
junction with natural agents and the products of
previous labor, viz., capital. Of these, labor is
by far the most important factor. It is rendered
efficient by division and combination. (See LA-
BOR.) It is the real measure of the exchangea-
(See VALUE.) Di-
vision and combination of labor are possible on
any large scale only when exchange of products
is possible. Freedom of exchange, therefore, is
a fundamental condition of the highest productiv-
ity of labor. Labor is distinguished as productive
and unproductive. The former includes all labor
which fixes and embodies itself in material objects,
while the latter includes all immaterial, social and
intellectual services. Commerce, manufactures
and agriculture are all productive ; but the last
is the most productive, for it employs both human
and natural agents at once. It is the most solid
and enduring source of wealth, and forms the basis
of national prosperity. It is the necessary pre-
supposition of all other occupations. – Capital is
that portion of one’s stock or accumulation of
property which is employed productively, i. e.,
so as to yield a revenue to its owner. It is divided
into circulating and fixed capital, the former in-
cluding such as must pass out of its owner's pos-
session before it can yield a return, the latter be-
ing that which may remain in one’s possession and
still yield a profit. An example of the former is
a merchant’s stock of goods; of the latter, invest-
ments in permanent improvements of a farm or a
factory. It will be seen that Smith exaggerates
the importance of labor as a factor of production;
although he was the first to give us an even ap-
proximately complete and satisfactory discussion.
of the physical conditions of production and dis-
tribution. He was also the first to distinguish
clearly the idea of capital, and to recognize its
accumulative power and its significance in an in-
dustrial system. He did not realize, however, the
importance of the non-capital stock in the national
economy, and consequently left deficiencies in his
theory which he could not supply. — Another
field in which Smith did original work was his
theory of the circulation or exchange of commodi-
ties; the theory of price, of money, of market
movements, etc. Money was a necessary conse-
quence of man’s tendency to exchange, and also
the condition of any extensive system of exchange.
Money is not identical with wealth, as many have
maintained, nor is it even the most important
244
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
*
kind of wealth. It is a simple commodity whose
value and price varies like those of any other
commodity. It is to be regarded as an unproduc-
tive, dead capital, because it leaves no utility fixed
in a material object as it passes from hand to
hand. The amount of money in a land bears a
fixed, though perhaps indeterminable, ratio to the
quantity of exchanges to be effected by it. Price
is distinguished : 1, as real price, the quantity
of necessaries or conveniences of life given for a
commodity, and nominal price, or the quantity of
money given for it; 2, as natural price and market
price. Market price is determined by the higgling
of the market, and is affected by temporary de-
mand and supply. Natural price is such a price
as is sufficient to pay the costs of production.
The former tends to approximate to the latter.
Natural price includes, as constituent parts, nat-
ural, i. e., ordinary, wages of labor, natural rent
for ground, and natural profits of stock employed
in raising, preparing and bringing to market the
commodity. — Smith was the first economist to
investigate the nature of income, and the condi-
tions and elements of its increase and distribution.
He divided national income into wages of labor,
ground rent and interest on capital, and developed
to some extent the principles which underlie their
distribution. Rent forms an essential part of the
price of all agricultural products, and since all
land cultivated must yield more than enough to
sustain the labor employed on it, all land yields a
rent. Position is as important an element as fer-
tility in determining the rent of land. The nat-
ural reward of labor is the product of the same.
But in a civilized society where the land has been
appropriated and capital has been accumulated,
the laborer only secures a portion of the product
as his reward, and must give a portion to the
landlord and another to the capitalist. The wages
of labor are determined by the general laws which
regulate price. We may designate that as the
minimum rate of wages which will barely enable
the laborer to found a family and keep himself
able to work. Under favorable circumstances the
laborer may secure for himself a rate far exceeding
this. Wages are highest, not in the most wealthy
countries, but in those which are increasing in
wealth most rapidly. Combinations of workmen
to raise wages can seldom accomplish any good,
and generally do great injury. The rate of profits
on capital varies very greatly in different states of
society. It is determined by the relation of de-
mand and supply. It tends to fall as society ad-
vances, while rent and wages tend to rise. As
labor is the source of all wealth, so saving and
economy are the Only means of accumulating,
Ż. e., of creating, capital.--We have called Smith's
system a theory of production, and rightly, too,
as distinguished from a theory of distribution,
which political economy is still waiting for; but
Smith was the first to present the interests of con-
sumers as entitled to as much consideration as
those of the producers, whose interests as a class
had been almost exclusively regarded by previous
economists. Consumption is the sole end and
purpose of all production, and the interests of
producers are to be considered and furthered only
So far as they affect the interests of consumers.
Smith's ideas of the significance of a large popu-
lation were distinctly opposed to those of the
mercantilists, and foreshadowed, in an indistinct
manner, those of Malthus. – Smith’s chapters on
taxation marked an epoch in this department
also. He developed the economic basis of taxa-
tion. He discusses, first, what are the necessary
expenses of the government or commonwealth;
which of those expenses ought to be defrayed by
the general contributions of the whole society,
and which of them by that of some particular
part only, or of some particular members of it;
secondly, what are the different methods in which
the whole society may be made to contribute
toward defraying the expenses incumbent on the
whole Society, and what are the principal advan-
tages and inconveniences of each of those meth-
ods; and, thirdly and lastly, what are the reasons
and causes which have induced almost all modern
governments to mortgage some part of this rev-
enue, or to contract debts, and what have been
the effects of those debts upon the real wealth, the
annual produce of the land and labor of the so-
ciety. Smith’s canons of taxation have become
classic, and English and American political econ-
omy has not yet got beyond them. (See FINANCE,
SCIENCE OF.) —“The Wealth of Nations” stands
as the dividing line between ancient and modern
thought on economic subjects. It is the synthesis
and conclusion of everything that had preceded;
it is the starting point and basis of all Subsequent
development. If we were to sum up, says Kautz,
the defects of the industrial (Smithian) system of
political economy, we should mention, first, the
overwhelming predominance of the material ele-
ment, which prevented the founder of the modern
science of economics from properly appreciating
the intellectual and moral elements of political
and economic life, and caused him to devote his
attention exclusively to the purely economic ele-
ments and factors. Man appears in his exposi-
tions, not as an ethico-political being, but as a
mere wheel in the sweep of a great mechanism.
Nothing but the economic ability, the producing
power, of the individual and of society, is consid-
ered, and consequently the higher moral and polit-
ical ends and relations of the community are left
out of sight. As a consequence, Smith's concep-
tion and treatment of the problems of distribu-
tion and consumption are defective, since he gives
but little attention to these elements in their con-
nection with the politico-social life of nations. He
devotes his thought always and everywhere to the
greatest possible sum total of production. He
rarely considers, how, by what means and at what
sacrifice of moral and social interests, this sum
total has been produced, or in what proportion,
or whether in any at all, those participate in the
enjoyment of this product who have assisted in
its production, or whether prosperity, enjoyment
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
245
and reward stand in any relation to the sacrifices
and privations of labor. He fails to attain to that
deeper conception of the higher spiritual essence
of the state and national life: for nations are to
him nothing but aggregates of individuals con-
trolled by merely material and economic motives,
and not communities of souls who, aside from
their material ends and wants, have and pursue
moral, political and spiritual ends and aims. A
second defect is the almost absolute glorification
of self-interest, and the raising of individual ad-
vantage to the rank of a fundamental principle
in economics, by which, on the one hand, his
views of state interference become one-sided, and,
On the other, economics becomes a mere science of
private acquisition and exchange, in which the
individual appears as an egoistic natural force
which works always and everywhere in the same
way, and thus every interference of the state on
grounds of public interest becomes superfluous.
It will be seen that Smith’s views were intimately
connected with the theory of the state which pre-
vailed during the eighteenth century, in that both
proceed from the same negative atomistic view of
civil society, and regard the interests of individ-
uals as the sole end of the community. Just as
the state, in the view of political rationalism, was
nothing but a legal institution to preserve the free-
dom of the individual, and appeared as an asso-
ciation based on a contract, so in the economic
rationalism of Smith it is only a union of private
economies, and an association based on the ex-
change system of individuals; and in both theo-
ries the private advantage of the individual ap-
pears as the cause and bond of association. To
this defective conception of the state we must
ascribe the fact that the “laissez faire, laissez
passer’ theory finds its extremest development
and sanction in Smithianism. The rôle of the
state is reduced to almost nothing, and the inter-
ference of the public in the national economy is
declared to be almost unconditionally injurious
and dangerous. – Among other defects we may
mention his emphasis of value in exchange and
disregard of value in use, his denying to imma-
terial labor the quality of productiveness, his un-
Satisfactory treatment of the elements of nature
and capital in production, his failure to appreciate
the importance and range of combination and
association among laborers, his superficial discus-
Sion of fundamental concepts and disregard of
form and arrangement in grouping his material.
Finally, we must characterize as a defect, Smith's
conception of the eternal and unchangeable na-
ture of the laws which control and regulate the
economic life of nations, and of the absolutely
unconditional validity and applicability of all eco-
nomic principles and truths. Out of this view
rose a politico-economic theory which leads to a
fatalism, in which the ethical power and freedom
of the human will are utterly powerless in the
grasp of natural law. No attention is paid to
those historic, national and natural peculiarities
upon which the different form and development
of the various systems of national economy de-
pend, and by which, therefore, the concrete rela-
tive significance and truth of economic principles,
institutions and systems are conditioned. The at-
tempt was made to construct an abstract, universal
science of economics valid at all times and in all
places. The attempt was a failure. — The prog-
ress of political economy since Adam Smith has
consisted principally in improvements in detail
and form. No independent and opposed system
has been constructed, if we except Socialism,
which is worth noticing; but many special de-
partments have been enriched. Among the men
who have contributed to the progress of the sci-
ence we may mention the following: At the be-
ginning of the century, Malthus and Laud-
erdale in England; J. B. Say and Canard in
France; and Sartorius and Buesch in Germany.
In the second decade come Ricardo in England;
Ganilh and Sismondi in France; Hufeland, Lotz,
Storch and Soden in Germany ; and Gioja in
Italy. After these come the Englishmen, James
Mill, Torrens and M*Culloch ; the Frenchmen,
Tracy, Droz, and Louis Say; the Germans, Rau
and Nebenius; and the Italian, Fuoco. St. Cha-
mans in France, and Adam Müller in Germany,
may be mentioned as decided opponents of
Smith's system. Senior, Eisdell, Scrope in En-
gland, Rossi and Chevalier in France, and Her-
mann, Schoen, Baumstark, Hagen and Riedel in
Germany, promoted the progress of the Science
during the years after 1830. During the decade
1840–50 Dunoyer and Bastiat in France, Thünen,
List, Schütz, Hildebrand and Bernhardi in Ger-
many, and John Stuart Mill in England, deserve
especial notice. Tooke, Macleod, Sargant, Atkin-
son and Cairnes in England, Baudrillart, Cour-
celle-Seneuil in France, Bianchini and Carballo in
Italy and Spain, and Roscher, Knies, Mangoldt,
Stein and Schäffle complete the list of those who
up to 1860 had done very much original work in
the science among European writers. — It is worth
while to mention the special topics which have
been the objects of thought and attention in con-
nection with those who have made them the sub-
jects of special study. Whately, Senior, Mill,
Chevalier, Cairnes and Knies have done valuable
work in defining and determining the nature and
problems of economic science. Say, Lauderdale,
Hufeland, Lotz, Rau, Hermann, Bastiat, Fried-
länder, Bernhardi, Thomas and Knies have
labored at the fundamental ideas of the science,
wealth, value, etc. Dunoyer, Hermann, Gioja,
Ganilh, Bernhardi and Say have investigated the
theory of labor, its productivity and freedom.
The theory of capital has been furthered by Say,
Hermann and Dietzel; that of price by Hermann
and Tooke; that of the productivity of nature by
Say, Lotz, Rau, Bernhardi and Malthus; that of
money by Hoffmann, Ganilh, Senior, Chevalier;
and that of the movement of precious metals by
Ricardo, Senior, Jacob, Tooke, Helfferich and
Soetbeer. The laws of distribution have been
treated at length by Say, Sismondi, Ricardo,
246
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
Hermann, Thünen, M*Culloch, Rossi, Bernhardi,
Nebenius, Read, Mangoldt, Jones, Bastiat and
Carey, particularly in connection with the doc-
trines of rent, wages and profits. The theory of
national consumption has been elaborated by Say,
M’Culloch, Sismondi, Vorlaender, Hermann and
Roscher; that of the equilibrium between con-
sumption and production by Say, Malthus, Her-
mann, Sismondi and Bernhardi; that of credit by
Thornton, Nebenius, Coquelin and Dietzel; that of
partnership by Stein; that of banking by Buesch,
Thornton, Ricardo, Tooke, Wilson, Fullarton,
Coquelin, Macleod, Huebner, Thoel and Gilbert;
that of transportation by List, Chevalier and
Knies; that of the political economy of agricult-
ure by Roscher, Thünen, Lavergne, Passy and
Wolowski; of manufacturing industry by Sis-
mondi, Babbage and Roscher; that of international
trade by Say, Ricardo, J. Mill, J. Stuart Mill and
Büsch; that of colonization by Wakefield, Tor-
rens, List and Roscher; that of pauperism by
Eden, Willeneuve, Villerme, Gerando, Vogt,
Mohl, Schütz and Schmidt; that of population
by Malthus, Sadler, Senior and Roscher; that of
finance by Malthus, Jacob, Schön, Rau, Stein,
Ricardo, M*Culloch, Molkte, Nebenius, Baum-
stark, Augier, Carey, Bianchini, Dietzel, and
many practical men of all nations. – The merest
glance at the various tendencies which have re-
vealed themselves in the economic literature of
this century will convince one that it is a matter
of the greatest difficulty to group the various
writers on economics according to particular
schools. It is difficult to select a set of views and
opinions which any number of eminent authori-
ties consider and acknowledge as their own. The
various adherents of a given system do not often
acknowledge a principle in the same decided
way. The same thinker often belongs not merely
to one but to several Schools, according to his
views on certain fundamental ideas. We may
distinguish, however, the following general tend-
encies: 1. Those who, while they accept Smith’s
system in general, enlarge the idea of wealth
and productivity, and extend it also to immaterial
commodities, services and labor. Among these
may be mentioned J. B. Say, Ganilh, Rossi,
Dunoyer and Garnier, in France; Lauderdale,
Wakefield, M*Culloch and Macleod, in England;
Hufeland, Soden, Bülau, Storch, Hermann, List,
Eiselen, Steinlein, Roscher and Dietzel, in Ger-
many; and Gioja, Bosellini, Boccardo, Scialoja
and Bianchini, in Italy. 2. Those who empha-
size the idea of value in use, and claim for it an
important rôle in political economy: Lauderdale,
Schön, Riedel, Rau, Bernhardi, Roscher, Knies,
Cherbuliez, Müller, List, Say, Gioja and Bian-
chini. 3. Those who have resurrected some Old
mercantilistic and protectionist ideas, condemn
the exportation of the precious metals, and the
idea of free trade, and under the modern cry of
“protection to national labor,” attempt to free
domestic industry from foreign competition by
high import duties: Ferrier, Ganilh, L. Say,
Thiers, Goldenberg, St. Chamans and Lebastier,
in France; Hopf, Büsch, Pfeiffer, Eisenhart,
Brentano and List, in Germany; Colton, Carey
and Thompson in America. 4. The school of
absolute free trade, embracing most English and
French and many American economists, and of
the German, Prince-Smith, Hübner, Brüggemann,
Hagen, Lotz, Osiender, Wirth and Bergius.
The term Manchester party was applied to a wing.
of this school, composed mostly of practical men,
who were instrumental in bringing about the
great revolution in England's commercial policy,
which, beginning with the abolition of the corn
laws in 1846, ended with the free-trade tariff of
1860. They were opposed to any governmental
interference in economic matters, and demanded
unlimited competition in every department of in:
dustrial life. As a party they have opposed all
legislation in favor of the laboring classes, such
as factory laws, postal savings banks, etc., etc.
For a time they had everything their own way,
but have already lost their hold on the public
mind. 5. The physiocratic tendency, represented
by a few economists in France and Germany.
6. The conservative-reactionary tendency, which
opposes itself to the very fundamental principles.
of modern political economy, and sees the Only
hope of happiness in a return to obsolete institu-
tions and forms, confined to the continent, and
represented mainly by theological malcontents
and the ultramontanes. 7. The ‘‘social” School,
which rejects the principle of absolute competition.
in acquisition and exchange, and seeks to reconcile
individual freedom and activity, private interest
and advantage, with the interest of the whole, and
to bring them into harmony with the higher de-
mands of the organic life of the community. A
prominent feature in the theory of many of the
adherents of this school is an emphasizing of the
ethico-political element, and an acknowledgment
of the relative importance and justification of
governmental interference in economical matters.
The representatives of this school are: in France,
Blanqui, Comte, Chevalier, Fix, Baudrillart, Droz,
Dunoyer and Sismondi; in Italy, Gioja, Bianchini,
Cibrario and Fuoco; in America, Carey and
Colton; in Germany, Soden, Baumstark, Mohl,
Rossbach, Rau, Schulze, Schütz, Roscher, Knies,
and Hildebrand; in England, J. S. Mill, Chal-
mers, and Atkinson. 8. The so-called new En-
glish or orthodox school represented by Malthus,
Ricardo, Mill, Senior, Mº Culloch, Cairnes, etc.,
so far as they had common features. 9. The
socialistic school, represented by St. Simon, Four-
ier, Louis Blanc, LaSalle, Marx, etc., etc. 10.
The historical school. The adherents of this
school aim at uniting in an organic System the
previous results of economic investigation, and
endeavor to assign to the ethical, political and
social elements their proper place in the economic
system. They test the various theories of political
economy by the standards of historical phenomena
which are constantly changing, and are dependent
on time and space and upon natural and national
DOLITICAL ECONOMY.
247
conditions. They acknowledge, therefore, neither
a general normal national economy, nor an abso-
lutely valid theory of national economy, which
shall be applicable to all times and nations. List,
Roscher, Knies, and the majority of the younger
German economists, and a few French and Italian
economists, with Cliffe Leslie and one or two
others in England, represent this school. — The
limits of the present article forbid any detailed
discussion of these various schools. Political
economy is at present in a very chaotic state.
The “orthodox” political economy has begun to
lose its hold in England and America, and has
already ceased to hold the first place in Germany,
|France and Italy. While in the latter three coun-
tries the historical school has become the leading
One, it has not been able to secure much of a foot-
hold in either of the two former. This last springs
partly from the dense ignorance of continental
political economy which prevails. for the most
part in England and America. In Germany, Rau,
Nebenius, Hoffman, von Thünen and Hermann
may be classed as strong adherents of Adam
Smith, although they modified his opinions in
several respects. Their modifications were most
frequent in relation to administrative matters, the
German economists generally giving larger scope
to the action of the state. Friedrich List headed
the line of German protectionists, and was emi-
nent for his originality, his patriotism, and the
excellence of many of his monographs. He pro-
claimed the temporary necessity of protectionism
as a means of education. His system contains
many points of similarity with Carey’s. The his-
toric school was founded by Roscher, Hildebrand
and Knies. Hildebrand's Die Nationalökonomie
der Gegenwart und Zukunft is a clear and search-
ing criticism of the orthodox school of political
economy, though his censures are exaggerated.
ROScher is in many respects a sound follower of
the Orthodox school, though he denies the exist-
ence of general economic laws, or rather under-
rates their importance. Knies is no less profound
than ROScher, and is his superior in legal learning.
His principal works are Die politische Oekonomie
wom, Standpunkte der Geschächtlichen Methode, and
Geld und Kredit. A different tendency is repre-
Sented by the so-called liberal school, nicknamed
by its enemies the Manchester school of Germany.
It has devoted itself to bringing about the triumph
of complete liberty in commerce and industry.
Prince-Smith, Schulze-Delitzsch, Faucher, Braun,
Michaelis and Wirth, the last of whom is the
author of a course in political economy, which sums
up the tendencies of the school, are the principal
economists of this group. Rentzsch, Emminghaus
and Soetbeer may be classed as moderate adher-
ents of this general tendency. — A very different
standpoint is taken by other economists, among
whom may be numbered most of the professors
of economics in German universities. Following
in the steps of the first writers of the historical
and statistical schools, they profess little faith in
universal, or as some say natural, laws. They
believe only in historical or relative laws, discov.
ered by the inductive method, and deduced from
simple psychological and abstract premises. They
doubt the omnipotence of the principle of liberty
and individual self-government, and assign a
large sphere to the modifying action of the social
power. Questions concerning the distribution of
wealth attract their especial attention, and they
endeavor at least to help on the solution of the
“social” question. They are distinguished by
their ability, their numbers, their culture, and
their influence On the cultivated classes. Their
doctrines, tending to a reconstruction of economic
science, have been published in a large number of
special works and in the best economic reviews,
such as the Zeitschrift für die gesammte Staats-
wissenschaft, published at Tübingen, and the Jahr-
bûcher für Nationalókonomie, published at Jena,
and edited at present by Conrad of Halle. The
not very appropriate name of professorial Social
ists (Katheder-Socialisten) has been given to the
extreme followers of this school, because they
support the principle of authority. The most im-
portant work of this school is the “Course of Po-
litical Economy,” by Professor Adolph Wagner,
of Berlin, consisting in a new edition of Rau’s
“Course,” which has become somewhat out of
date. Nasse has assisted in this work. Wagner's
‘‘Science Of Finance” is also written from this new
standpoint. “These professorial socialists, among
whom von Scheel, Schmoller, Nasse, Held, Schäf-
fle, Conrad, etc., may be mentioned, had no diffi-
culty in overcoming the arguments of certain
weak economists who wished to reproduce in
Germany the doctrines of Bastiat at any price.
They have deceived themselves, therefore, as to
the importance and originality of their discoveries.
They confound economics with morals and law
under pretext of better harmonizing their results.
They do not distinguish theories, which are for the
most part general, from applications, which are
always contingent. They exaggerate the impor-
tance of induction. For the gradual and peaceful
evolution of political economy they wish to sub-
stitute a revolution, which they justify by an un-
deservedly severe condemnation of the defects
and errors of the classical economists, and espe-
cially those of England and France. They start
from the false assumption that the scientific prog-
ress of other nations at the present time is almost
nothing in comparison with the acquisitions of the
science in Germany. It can not be denied, how-
ever, that the eminent position now occupied by
Germany in the progress of economic studies de-
Imands from the economists of other Countries a
patient study of German works. Profound in-
vestigation, accurate historical and statistical re-
search, the number and merit of their economic
writings, their precise determination of funda-
mental principles, their separation of economics
from the financial and administrative Sciences,
have gained for them this position.” Works of
great importance, and showing immense industry
and carefulness, have been written by Mohl and
248 POLITICAL
ECONOMY.
Stein on administration, and by Rau, Malchus,
Nebenius, Hoffmann, Stein, Hock, Wagner, Vocke
and others on finance, and make German science
well worth the pains necessary to work through
their subtle and oftentimes pedantic controversies.
The inelegance and obscurity of the literary style
of most German writers on economics form a seri-
ous drawback to the general study of their works.
—The following account of the development of
political economy since Adam Smith, is inserted
here, although it involves some repetition, because
it represents very well the views of the most nu-
merous and influential body of German economists.
It is condensed from an article by the late Pro-
fessor Adolf Held, one of the ablest representa-
tives of the Katheder-Socialisten. — Smith's work
on the “Wealth of Nations,” which has been
published in many editions and translations, and
is accessible to every one, is the product of the
deepest scientific investigation, and is at the same
time written in a most simple and pleasing style.
There has been a great deal of discussion as to
the method of investigation employed by Adam
Smith. Buckle, who divides all men into the
two classes of deductive and inductive investi-
gators, classes Adam Smith as a Scotchman with
the deductive school. But the truth is, that Smith
did not strictly adhere to any one method. He
does not tire the reader with continuous exposi-
tions according to one definite method, but, in
Order to reach his results, applies first one method
and then another in a pleasing and suggestive
variety. We find investigations, in which, from
simple premises as to the nature of man, the most
far-reaching conclusions as to economical relations
and their connection are evolved by deduction,
but in the very midst of them occur long histori-
cal dissertations and detailed descriptions of con-
temporary conditions which are also employed in
proving his propositions. And with it all Smith
does not even adhere to any sharply defined ter.
minology, but discusses the phenomena he investi-
gates in the every-day language of common life.
Nothing is more foreign to him than the imposing
mathematical exactness of form which is charac-
teristic of Ricardo, for instance. He does not
follow out even his own views to their extreme
consequences, but modifies his conclusions by new
considerations where it is necessary, and where
they will thus correspond more closely to the
complicated relations of actual life, and so stops
short of drawing the logical consequences of his
own premises. When we consider this many-
sidedness of his treatment of the subject, we can
not be surprised that men of exactly opposite
opinions appeal to him as a supporter of their
views, for, as a matter of fact, the germs of both
extremes are to be found in his writings. The
absolute free-traders of to-day call him their great
master; List, the protectionist and creator of the
national political economy, derides and antago-
nizes him. Carey, on the contrary, who resembles
List in many respects, quotes him as an authority
in opposition to Malthus and Ricardo ; and in
very recent times a bitter discussion is going on in
the press as to whether the absolute free-traders
(Manchesterites) or the realistic political econo-
mists (the Katheder-Socialisten), who are most bit-
terly opposed to each other, are Smith's legitimate
successors. The point can never be fully decided
if we keep in view all Smith's statements and all
his methods of investigation. But if the question
be asked, What theories and what methods were
the most immediate outgrowth of Smith's work,
we can not deny, that, although Smith himself was
far above most of the narrow and one-sided ways
of regarding things which characterized his im-
mediate successors, yet he was the father of that
tendency whose last and most extreme representa-
tives are known as the Manchester school. Two
fundamental ideas may be clearly distinguished
in his great work, the logical outcome of which
was Manchesterism. On the one hand, he enter-
tained the view that the state is nothing but a
complement of individual life to assist in protect-
ing private economies; a greatinsurance company
with the least possible jurisdiction, which must
be as cheap as possible, and interfere as little as
possible with the individual whose rights ante-
date and are superior to those of the state. He
does not appeal to philosophic and jural principles
to establish this view, but supports it rather from
the advantageous consequences which must result
to the economic welfare of men from such an
administration, or rather non-administration, of
the state. It can not be denied, that in this point
Smith was decidedly narrow, and that, influenced
by the reaction of his time against the absolutism
of paternal governments, he failed to get the prop-
er conception of the state and of the infinite obli:
gations of the individual toward society. The
view that the only function of the state is to pre-
serve the original rights of the private individual
shows itself in his theory of taxation, his praise
of the system of standing armies, and his views
of public education. This free individual, under
the control of the state only so far as is necessary
to make him respect the rights of others, is con-
ceived as endowed with an average amount of
prudence and insight, and as moved in all eco-
nomical actions solely by the motive of Self-inter-
est. From these premises everything is deduced.
There is no mention of an overreaching of the
weak and ignorant by the strong and shrewd, or
of a public spirit which works against such a
tendency. As has been already said, the work
does not consist exclusively of deductions from
these premises, but they play a very great part,
and form the basis of a simple theoretical system
of science. The supposition of equal economic
ability, and of self-interest as the sole motive in
economical life, was evidently a conscious one-
sidedness so far as Smith was concerned; for, as
his work on the “Theory of Moral Sentiments’
proves, he recognized the existence and necessity
of other human motives than egoism. But these
were ignored in order to be able to attain to sim-
ple scientific results by considering only the pre-
i
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
249
vailing motive in economic actions. But as the
logical consequences of an uncontrolled although
enlightened self-interest do not give a complete
picture of social or even of economic life, Smith
did not pursue his theories to their extreme results,
but interrupted them by historic expositions; it is
no wonder, therefore,' that the disciples of this
great man should first develop those features of
his system by which the simplest and most valua-
ble results had been won. — A second fundamen-
tal idea in Smith's system is, that labor, as such,
is the sole creator of all value. With this great
and simple thought all exaggeration of money
or land or trade or agriculture was made impos-
sible, and the basis of a really general economic
science was laid. He did not fully develop this
thought, however. He pushed it to extremes in
One direction by making labor not only the origi-
nal source, but also the standard, of all value; and
by making the distinction between productive and
unproductive labor, he prepared the way for an
exaggerated and one-sided estimate of purely ma-
terial wealth. As Smith put the value-creating
power of labor at the head of his system, and
acknowledged capital, regarded as “accumulated
labor,” to be an important factor in production
based upon labor, the idea crept in that the in-
crease of values, as such, is the ultimate or only
end of human economy, nay, even of human en-
deavor in general, since no other side of human
activity than the economic is considered. Many
chapters in his work create this impression rather
by what is omitted than by what is said. At a
time when the expansion of production was at-
tracting the attention of all, and the absolute in-
crease of wealth was, as a matter of fact, the first
and most necessary condition of economic pros-
perity, it was natural that men should pursue this
end exclusively. Men did not come to feel the im-
portance of a better distribution of wealth until
the labor question of to-day forced it upon their at-
tention. Adam Smith had no harsh feelings toward
the lower classes, and if he did not preach the neces-
sity of kindness toward them, it was because the
circumstances of his time did not demand it. Noth-
ing was further from his idea than making man
directly the servant and instrument of wealth;
but when labor was looked at mainly as value-
Creating power, as a means to the end of increas-
ing wealth, the transition was not violent to a for-
getfulness of the wants and aims of the laborers.
Smith’s expositions foreshadowed the theory, so
bitterly attacked by List, which in the value for-
gets the producing power, and regards the laborer,
not as a man, but as a mere instrument. However
kindly Smith himself thought of the laboring
classes, however humane his feelings toward them,
there lies in his theory the germ of the view
which values the laborer less than the labor and
its result, and which reduces a political economy,
which starts from the equal estimate of all labor,
to one which is subservient to capital. All this is
no reproach to Adam Smith, but simply an expla-
nation how a large school which honors him as
its master could arrive at the most one-sided views
by simply emphasizing, as they naturally would,
those thoughts of their great leader which could
be most easily used in developing a simple and
consistent theory of wealth. This will appear
more clearly when we come to discuss his most
prominent followers. Smith lived to see the great
success of his work; for even before the close of
the preceding century his school had become the
predominant one in all civilized countries. Nu-
merous editions and translations carried the book
everywhere, while still 111ore 11uulerous disciples
delighted to spread abroad his views in their own
writings. The development of his school was
somewhat different in the three chief nations of
IEurope, England, France and Germany, although
England took the lead until very lately, when
German economists began to assume an independ-
ent position. — Of all Smith's followers in Eng-
land, Ricardo indisputably stands first. Thor-
oughly different from Adam Smith in every par-
ticular, he was just fitted to develop a harsh and
rigorous system from the fundamental principles
which Smith had popularized. Originally a busi-
ness man, he began his literary activity with the
discussion of a practical question, that of money
and banks. From this he passed to more gener-
al work, and wrote his “Principles of Political
Economy and Taxation.” This treatise discussed
in detail some of the questions which Smith had
passed over rather lightly. On account of the
fundamental importance of the questions treated,
and the strictly logical and consistent treatment
of them, this work produced the effect of a theo-
retical system, and was of far greater value for
the development of the science than the works of
Say written about the same time. Adam Smith,
a scholar by nature, and educated as a scholar,
without any inclination to practical life, had
maintained an unusual many-sidedness, an open
eye for all points which must be considered, and
had sacrificed to this habit of looking at all sides
of everything the formal clearness of his reason-
ing, the theoretical perfection of his system. Ri-
cardo, the practical man, on the contrary, after
he once took up his pen, insisted upon the severest
adherence to conclusions from abstract and incom-
plete premises, and is the real father of that ab-
stract theory of political economy which, closing
its eyes to all the facts of our changing and shift-
ing life, sees the only truth and salvation in the
belief in the necessity of the absolute freedom of
the individual. It was Ricardo, not Adam Smith,
who made the method of gaining all economical
knowledge by deductions from incomplete hy-
potheses as to the nature of man, his fundamental
principle. Ricardo made the theory that labor is
not only the source but also the standard of value
the foundation of his whole system, and reasoned
from that to the conclusion that the instrument of
labor (called the laborer) can never have more than
barely enough to keep him alive, and that simple
and powerful natural laws control the economical
life of man, which man may ascertain by deduc-
250
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
tion, but can not change, and which, on the
whole, produce ever-increasing wealth of the land-
owners and capitalists, permanent poverty of the
poor, and for all an ever-increasing difficulty of
obtaining subsistence. We do not use Ricardo's
words in this characterization, we seek to show
the spirit in which he wrote, or rather, the tend-
ency which the results of his investigation pro-
mote. He acquired an extraordinary authority
by the formal precision of his expositions. It
can not be denied that he did a great work for the
science, if it were nothing more than showing to
what conclusion one must come when One starts
from such premises and uses such a method.
Next to Adam Smith, Ricardo is the man whom
one must study who wishes to understand the
political economy of to-day. The terse precision
of his exposition and the severity of his reason-
ing will always remain instructive. But it is car-
rying our admiration too far to accept the results
of his investigations as infallible truths; for they
are only true conditionally, and are as little
adapted as the mercantile theory to explain the
economical relations of all times and nations. His
theory of bank notes, that their value depends
upon their quantity, has been disproved by the
labors of realistic political economists (Tooke).
The theory that the cost of production alone de-
termines the price of commodities whose quantity
can be increased at pleasure is untenable, since
we can not separate the commodities to which the
theory applies from those under the control of
monopoly. It was rejected by Hermann and
others long ago, and has in recent times shown its
weakness in a most decided way by the conse-
quences which Marx and other socialists rightly
deduced from it. His theory of rent is relatively
true, but the view that land alone follows in every
respect different laws from other fixed capital has
been given up by later economists, who consider
land like other property, and maintain that the
theory has a practical value only in old lands, and
then only if we accept the fiction that the present
landowners are the heirs of the first occupiers of
the soil. Ricardo explains the phenomena of eco-
nomical life from simple causes, and the expla-
nation is correct so long as we close our eyes to
the existence of other causes, but it becomes
more incomplete and untenable the stronger those
causes become which he ignored. Ricardo's
method of investigation, which led him to be one-
sided for the sake of clearness and simplicity, and
which, on the whole, was a valuable service to the
theory of the science, was employed for Sad pur-
poses by his weaker successors, to oppose any
influences which threatened the interests of the
propertied classes as Offenses against Sound politi-
cal economy. It follows as an absolute necessity
from Ricardo's theories that all industrial progress
must inure to the benefit of the propertied classes,
that increase of capital must be promoted for the
sake of the increase of wealth, that it is nonsense
to limit calculating egoism, or to make any Sacri-
fice to the welfare of the laborers whose lot as
mere instruments of labor is irrevocably fixed.
A self-satisfying theory of political economy,
complete in itself, was contained in Ricardo's keen.
propositions. It staved off all objections from
Other standpoints, and demanded unconditional
acknowledgment, undisturbed sway of laissez faire
et passer in the interest of the increase of the wealth
of the rich. It viewed all sacrifice for the state,
all humane acts in Social questions, as disturbing
and injurious forces. Few have dared to express.
it, but it is a logical consequence of this self-sat-
isfying political economy, with its natural laws,
that all human endeavor which does not aim di-
rectly at the production of material wealth is indif-
ferent. What do the natural laws of economy
care about states and nations? — Ricardo had de-
veloped what under certain conditions is, and why
it is so. Many of his followers insist that they
do nothing more than tell the truth; they do not
make things as they are, they explain simply.
That sounds very plausible. But we must con-
sider that as soon as an explanation of that which
is, appears, with the claim that it must naturally
be so, and that a struggle against it is fruitless and
disturbing, the explanation becomes an active
principle, the exposition culminates in a postulate,
the theory of immutable natural laws leads to a
negative economic policy. This appears very
plainly in those successors of Ricardo whose eco-
nomical reasoning exhausts itself in an appeal to
Ricardo's authority, and who content themselves
with a comfortable preaching of the laissez faire et
passer, and consider the sole function of modern
science to be a holding fast to Ricardo's theories.
It is impossible to write a political economy which
merely discovers and arranges existing laws, like
astronomy, for instance. Whoever studies human
relations in which he himself moves and lives,
will necessarily incorporate in his theories his own
wishes, and his views of what is best for man to
do. — Ricardo, somewhat modified in form and
practically applied, is what we call Manchester-
ism. Of course every one protests against hav-
ing this name applied to him, every One pro-
fesses, on being interrogated, the most kindly
feeling toward the laborers, a great love for the
state, and an anti-materialistic sentiment. But
there are writers, particularly in other countries
than Germany, whose whole circle of thought
is taken from Ricardo, and in whose writings SO
slight traces of such sentiments can be found that
they certainly can not exercise any great influence
on their economic theories. There are few writers
whom one can convict of a thoroughly consistent
Manchesterism, but there is a mode of thought
which is called Manchesterism, and which shows
itself to be the prevailing one in very many writers.
To the best known disciples of Ricardo in this
sense belongs, in England, M’Culloch, whose
services to the science can not be denied, but who
did not enrich it by any new ideas of fundamental
importance. Senior may also fairly enough be
called a Manchesterite. It is remarkable that J.
S. Mill, whose sympathetic nature gave him a
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
251
view of life very different from Ricardo's, and
whose political and philosophical studies secured
for him a wider intellectual horizon, should so
often be in abject subjection to Ricardo's author-
ity in purely economic questions. We must re-
member, however, that in England down to 1860
the great practical question of economic policy
was, how to push through free-trade to its ultimate
victory, and that in this contest the catchwords
of the laissez faire et passer school were of great
use. Mill, however, did not allow his theories to
prevent him from supporting the establishment of
postal Savings banks, of a national sanitary com-
mission, of factory legislation, all violations of
laïssé2 faire et passer; and in very recent times
a marked reaction against Ricardo's theories is
showing itself among English economists. – In
France, Say, in his Cours et Traité d'economie po-
litique, made Adam Smith's theories familiar to
his countrymen. Alfhough less important and
influential then Ricardo, he acquired a great repu-
tation by the beauty of his literary style and the
clearness of his expositions. A large number of
French writers became adherents of his views,
against whom the half socialistic theories of Sis-
mondi made little headway until French political
economy acquired a peculiar cast from the strug-
gle with socialism and communism. A detailed
discussion of socialism and communism will be
found elsewhere, but we must call attention here to
the fact that, although the Socialists and economists
in France regard each other as something absolute-
ly different, yet since scientific socialism and com-
munism busy themselves chiefly with economic
problems, they are to a certain extent economic
schools. Communism and socialism form the ex-
act opposite of the laissez fairé et passer tendency,
and also a sharp contrast to the immediate fore-
runner of modern economics, i. e., mercantilism.
The mercantile system demanded protection of
the state for trade and industry. Adam Smith
and Ricardo called for freedom in the interest of
the third estate; communism and socialism insist
upon limitation of the individual by a higher
power in the interest of the fourth estate, the la-
borers. The ideal of the so-called industrial sys-
tem is tabula rasa for the individual forces, which,
after the abolition of all hindrances, should be al-
lowed to develop themselves and compete with
one another freely. This was of great advantage
compared with the old restrictions of mediaeval
society, such as vassalage, guild law, trade mo-
nopolies, etc. But when, under the free play of
economic forces, the stronger mercilessly exploits
the weaker, it is but natural to claim that new
restrictions adapted to the times, must be raised
on this tabula rasa, which has been won. This cry
for a new organization was raised by communism
and socialism in France soon after the first tri-
umphs of the revolution, and it has re-echoed ever
since. Almost all of those who call themselves
socialists or communists demand, it is true, some-
thing impossible and indeed criminal, yet there is
a theory, a science, of socialism and Communism,
which can not be summarily disposed of with
moral indignation, like Baboeuf's assassination the-
ory or Fourier's ideas on marriage. Real com-
munism demands a complete and permanent Com-
munity of property and equality of enjoyments,
that is only possible in connection with an abso-
lutely despotic commission which superintends
this distribution ; whether this directing power is
to acquire its position by murder and revolution,
as Baboeuf wished, or by the force of persuasion,
as Cabet's ideal demanded. Such a thing is im-
possible, such an idea is lunacy ; but it coutains
a criticism of the premises from which the pre-
vailing political economy proceeds, i. e., of the
Supposition of an enlightened self-interest ruling all
men which is to bring to all men alike the greatest
prosperity. And so as a criticism even real com-
munism has its scientific significance. It is more
difficult to define the demands of socialism ; for
there is a great contest going on as to who should
be branded with the name socialist, and there is a
world-wide difference in the opinions of those
who are generally called by that name. Compare
St. Simon, Fourier, Louis Blanc, Proudhon,
Owen, Waitling, Engel, Marx, Lasalle, with one
another, and all of these with the so-called pro-
fessorial socialists who make it their boast that
they are forging the strongest weapons against
Marx and his like. We may describe the social-
ists as a whole by saying that they reject the com,
plete equality of all men and community of goods,
but, on the other hand, they would not permit to
the individual the complete exploitation of his
powers at the expense of others, but, by some new
organization or other, which, as opposed to the
previous condition of things, would control the
individual more in the interest of the whole, they
would seek to bring about a distribution of wealth
which should be fairer and more favorable to
the poorer classes. The plans for this new or-
ganization are very different. The great mass of
those called socialists, like the communists, show
dangerous and reprehensible tendencies, and it is
very difficult to draw a sharp and clear line be-
tween such, and those who in a legal, praiseworthy
and possible way seek to limit free competition
and to subordinate the individual to the commu-
nity in a somewhat greater degree than hitherto.
It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that scien-
tific men with the most praiseworthy desires must
be contented to be called socialists. – The proper
course to pursue in regard to communism and
utopian socialism is to take their criticism to heart,
correct their ideas of liberty and equality, and give
up the untenable postulates of individualism. In
the politico-economic field in particular it should
be our task to study the working of the moral
forces in man, and emphasize these, instead of
constructing untenable natural laws from one-
sided premises; in short, we must free the theo-
ries of the English economists from their one-
sidedness, develop them, unite them with enlarged
views, and seek to do justice to the wants of the
present by independent observations of the facts,
252
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
instead of seeking eternal truth in holding fast to
theories which sprang from the spirit of times
long past. French Science did not do this, how-
ever. Men did not content themselves, of course,
with suppressing the socialistic elements by force
of arms in the battle of June, 1848, and keeping
them down afterward by police measures. They
attempted to use the arms of science also, but in-
stead of giving up untenable positions and then
opposing the excesses of socialism with all the
more right, they opposed a sophistical Optimism
to the dark pictures of existing conditions, from
which the socialists had drawn their right to over-
throw them. They had to modify Ricardo's theory
of rent, of course, and his views on wages, but they
did so only in order to glorify all the more the
principle of the unconditional freedom of the in-
dividual, the theory that the highest possible ad-
vantage of all proceeds from the complete sway
of egoistic motives alone. This optimism, which
found its chief representative in Bastiat, and a
second illustrious defender in the American Carey
(who is curiously enough a protectionist), ignores
completely that there are antagonistic and op-
posing interests of men, and that a struggle for
existence is going on in the economic field which
does not always lead to the victory of the best
elements, but may lead to the utter destruction
of all. All these extreme apostles of freedom
acknowledge the necessity of a civil order which
shall abridge personal liberty; they acknowledge
the necessity of private rights at least, and of
their protection by the state; but they draw here
an arbitrary line beyond which the reconciling,
regulating hand of the state may not reach. They
do not deny the necessity of ethics and the sub-
limity of virtue, but they maintain that in the
economic world the free play of egoistic forces
results in complete harmony with the highest
morality, and forget that the working of eight-
year-old children for twelve hours a day in facto.
ries is very immoral, but may be very profitable
for the factory owner. Extreme and embittered
Socialists on the One hand, and optimistic follow-
ers of Adam Smith and Ricardo on the other,
stand opposed to one another in France; and
although there are not wanting economists who
Occupy an intermediate position, yet it is these
two extremes which give tone to and control the
economic literature of to day. One party empha-
sizes exclusively the right of man to free action,
which benefits the stronger the most; the other,
the right of every one, even the poorest, to deserved
enjoyment. Both parties regard the state, not as
the Sovereign regulating representative of all in-
terests, in which and by which every one should
serve, as a matter of duty, the highest ends of
humanity, but as a means to their ends. How-
ever rich and interesting the French literature of
both socialists and economists may be, and how-
ever suggestive it may become, yet it does not
Contain the basis of a real advance in economic
science. — Smith's school developed itself in a far
different manner in Germany. At first there ap-
peared a great number of writers who adapted
Smith's principles to German wants. They ac-
quired for a time a great reputation, but they are
of little importance now, as it is better to go
directly to English sources. The youngest of this
school, who is still of great importance, was Rau.
He deserves great praise for the industry displayed
in his literary studies, and collections of material,
for the clearness of his systematizing, and his
ability to weigh impartially even the most oppo-
site views, but on all points of fundamental im-
portance he remained a strict adherent of Smith's
school. These early Germans, however, were
very far from exaggerating or even accepting the
one-sided views of Ricardo. They at times ac-
cepted principles without critically examining
them, it is true, which testify to their superficial
conception of the state and to their dependence
on foreign thinkers, but they were prevented from
a consistent elaboration of one-sided principles by
their strict adherence to systematic form; and since
they did not convert the theory of police powers
and of finance into a mere annex to theoretical
political economy, but continued to discuss them
in detail and independently, it became impossible
to develop a system of political economy which
refused to recognize the state as a powerful
economic factor. At the beginning of this cent-
ury, side by side with the slavish followers of
Adam Smith, thinkers arose who carried for-
ward original investigations; and at the same
time an opposition to Adam Smith appeared,
which, although it did not become very promi-
nent, had a critical significance, and testifies to the
independence of the German mind. Among the
earlier original followers of Adam Smith, Hufe-
land, Hermann and von Thünen deserve especial
mention. Hufeland has received less attention,
and has become less influential, than the depth of
his thought and the clearness of his expositions
deserved. Hermann, on the contrary, exercised a
wide influence, and von Thünen's writings after
his death received considerable attention in eco-
nomic literature. Hermann resembles Ricardo in
some respects. His “Politico-Economic Investi-
gations,” published in the year 1832, do not con-
tain any complete system of economics, but dis-
cuss various important questions pertaining to the
science. These “Investigations” we may, with-
out hesitation, characterize as the most complete
intellectual product of the abstractly deductive
school of Adam Smith. With a logical precision,
at least equal to Ricardo’s, he unites a many-sided-
ness of view which is foreign to the English
economists. Hermann's theories of wants, prices,
income, etc., will always remain models, and of
fundamental importance. He belongs to the
school of Adam Smith, but he develops it farther
in an independent way. He breaks the way for
a new tendency, far removed, however, from
Manchesterism. He acknowledges public Spirit
as a justifiable motive side by side with egoism.
He traces back the phenomenon of value and price,
not to the single standard of labor, but explains
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
253
prices as the result of a multitude of causes. He re-
forms the conception of income by opposing those
definitions which regard the consumption of the
laborers, not as the ultimate end of economy, but
only as an incident of production. Many German
Writers have carried on the work in Hermann’s
spirit, such as Helferich and Mangoldt. Won
Thinen’s work, “The Isolated State in Relation
to Agriculture and Political Economy,” is form-
ally far less perfect. Written at various times,
and published partly after his death, it is not con-
sistent in every respect. The various theories are
also objectionable, in spite of the profundity and
wealth of thought displayed. He acknowledges
himself a disciple of Adam Smith, but differs
from him on many points. For the sake of easier
and clearer explanation of economical phenomena,
he proceeds from abstractions which relate in the
first place only to agriculture. But the special
consideration of concrete practical relations, the
frequent interpolation of calculations based on
practical experience, is unavoidable, and thus a
peculiarly realistic element is introduced into his
investigation. In his method of deduction itself
von Thünen is in so far peculiar as he converts
economic concepts, wherever possible, into math-
ematical quantities, and then reaches his results
by mathematical operations. This method is ap-
plied in his well-known investigation into the
natural rate of wages, but leads in this case, as in
all others, to useless conclusions, because eco-
nomic phenomena, so various and many-sided,
can not be forced into mathematical formulas ex-
cept by violent abstractions and fictions; and al-
though a correct calculation may be made with
such formulas, yet the results do not give an even
approximately correct picture of reality. The
same thing is true of Canard and Cournot, both
of whom tried the mathematical method. Von
Thinen’s warm sympathy for the laboring class,
his conviction, far ahead of his time, that the
dangers of the labor question could only be
averted by a humane course of action on the
part of the propertied classes, are of special in-
terest to us. And so, in spite of the imperfec-
tions of his results, in spite of all formal weak-
messes of the self-educated man, he forms, as a
disciple of Adam Smith, an instructive and glo-
rious opposite to Ricardo, and shows how bitterly
opposed the German mind is to Manchesterism.
The opposition against Adam Smith in German
literature at the beginning of this century pro-
ceeded from very different tendencies from those
which conditioned French communism and social-
ism, for which there was no chance in Germany,
since the minds of the working classes had not
been excited, and the relations of modern indus-
try had hardly begun to develop. German oppo-
sition, on the contrary, sought safety in a return
to older views. There were romanticists (Adam
Müller) who opposed to the absolute victory of
individual liberty a romantic enthusiasm for me-
diaeval relations of dependence, and displayed
great affection for the blessings of feudal sim-
plicity, compared with the beginning development
of modern industry and free commerce. There
were protectionists, like F. List, who in the reg-
ulation of economic relations had an eye first of
all to the advantage of their own nation, and
wished to favor the development of national
wealth and power. The last had powerful allies
in North America, where protection against the
all-powerful English industry is a natural pol-
icy. Romanticists and protectionists were both
on a false road. It was an idle attempt to oppose
a School which corresponded, although incom-
pletely, to modern wants and conditions, by the
resurrection of obsolete views. Neither set of
economists, therefore, had many followers. But
if we must allow a certain critical merit in the
communists and extreme socialists of France, we
must grant this in a still greater degree to the
romanticists and protectionists. Both oppose
the theory which seeks eternally valid natural
laws in economics, and which considers the nat-
ural condition of unlimited personal freedom as
the only justifiable one, without regard to the
needs of special times and nations. They called
our attention to the fact that we must approach
the study of economic relations in an historic
spirit, that the same system is not suited to all.
They declaimed, further, against the exclusive
consideration of the increase of material wealth,
and taught us, that, for the prosperous develop-
ment of even purely economic conditions, the
preservation of the ideal wealth of the nation,
the harmonious development of the whole man
is by no means a matter of indifference. Finally,
they emphasized the fact, that, in a politically reg-
ulated society, there is a difference between the
ruling and the ruled, that the jural order is of
the highest importance to economic development,
that the state is not a necessary evil, but an inde-
pendent factor, an inspiring and regulating ele-
ment of the highest importance to the national
economy. List’s agitation for the formation of
the customs union, however false his views of it
in detail, and for the building of the net of
German railways, shows that his fundamental
ideas, in spite of their passionate one-sidedness,
were not unfruitful for the development of the
science. Since 1850 a series of German writers
have followed these earlier Germans, who with-
out breaking with the English school, and without
falling into the errors of the Romanticists and
protectionists, have been constantly carrying new
ideas into the old English system. At first sev-
eral famous economists undertook to carry the
historical method into the dogmatic system of
political economy, and with a complete recogni-
tion of the relative truth in the propositions of
Smith and Ricardo; yet, in the place of the one-
sided, absolutely valid natural laws, to acknowl-
edge everywhere, according to the stage of civ-
ilization of a people, a difference in the actual
forces in economic life, and a difference in the
need of state interference. The labors of ROS-
cher, Hildebrand, Knies and others were epoch-
254
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
making in this direction. The right of this his-
torical school to exist, which had long before
celebrated its victory in the field of jurisprudence,
was recognized by all German economists. Others,
who had less to do with the introduction of this
historical method, have endeavored, in hearty
sympathy with the spirit of the historical school,
to enlarge and correct the current conception of
the state, and have emphasized the interaction of
economical and other social and political forces.
All the more prominent of the living German
economists have labored in this direction, such as
Stein, Schäffle, Dietzel, Schmoller, etc. Our sci-
ence received a peculiar and fruitful impulse from
the science of statistics, which since Quetelet’s ap-
pearance (1835) had taken a new start, and, by the
extensive activity of some German statisticians, has
strongly influenced the younger economists. Sta-
tistics has oddly enough created here and there the
belief in a strange utopia, the thought, namely, that
we may discover unassailable, universally valid
laws of economic life by inductive investigation
upon the basis of exact statistical observations in
mass, and so arrive by a new road to a completely
Satisfactory mechanical explanation of social life.
This thought, however, to which the exaggerated
ideas of Quetelet and Buckle led, has been rather
expressed than acted upon, and the influence of
statistics has been, as a matter of fact, a thor-
Oughly healthy One. It consists in this, that men
have been led, in all cases where the statistical
material has been sufficient, to leave the basis of
abstract premises in the explanation of present
relations, and to take the carefully observed con-
Crete facts as a starting-point and seek to ascertain
their causal connection. On many questions, such
as the bank question, we have thus arrived at highly
satisfactory results, and a large number of valuable
special investigations according to this method
have given us a very welcome supplement to the
system as elaborated by the historical school.
Finally, the fact must be emphasized that the la-
bor question has had a very great influence upon
the treatment of the whole science of economics
in Germany. Communistic and socialistic ideas
invaded Germany as early as 1830–40. But the
labor question did not acquire a great significance
until after 1848, when the railroads and factories
began to increase rapidly, and the way was broken
for the sway of modern industry. German sci-
ence did not assume the protesting position of the
Orthodox French economists. Hildebrand’s ‘‘ Po-
litical Economy of the Present and the Future,”
and Stein's initiative investigations into commu-
mism and socialism, gave immediate evidence of a
desire to do justice to the causes of the movements
of the proletary by impartial and thorough exam-
ination of all claims. The labor question has be-
come the most important chapter of political
economy, and the various tendencies which exist
within the science show themselves clearly in the
treatment of this question. Most of the younger
economists devote their special attention to the
labor question, and following the example of Hil-
debrand and Stein, seek to learn from socialism
instead of holding themselves aristocratically
aloof from it. Various principles, which are to
be found among the earlier German economists,
have acquired a new significance from the labor
question. The pressing problem of state-help or
self-help, led necessarily to a more careful study
of the functions of the state in economic matters.
The observation of the war of classes waged be,
tween the proletary and the propertied classes,
placed the importance of public spirit in a new
light. The pressing cry for a solution of the labor
question directed attention from the search after
natural laws ruling in economics, to the question,
what ought to prevail, what should be done 2 As
a natural consequence, in opposition to the ration-
alistic explanation of what is, the teaching of the
moral duty of men in economic actions became
more prominent. The opposition of the German
Science of Roscher, Hildebrand, Knies, Schäffle,
Stein, etc., to Manchesterism, expresses itself in
the great stress laid on the ethical element, and
this has become more marked in the younger econ-
omists, from Adolph Wagner down to Brentano.
Thus by various roads German political economy
has advanced far beyond Adam Smith, Ricardo
and J. B. Say. It has attained to new views,
new methods and new results, and its advances
have been far more consistent and complete than
the acquisitions of even a John Stuart Mill, let
alone the ideas of a Bastiat and a Carey, which
are new rather in form and terms of expression
than in content. German science has not, it is
true, as yet evolved any entirely new system of eco-
nomics, which independent in form and content,
can look down on Adam Smith as obsolete, as the
latter could look down on the mercantile System.
The relative truth of the results of the English
masters, as well as the relative justifiableness of
their method, is fully recognized, because, as a
matter of fact, in many economical matters the
uncontrolled freedom of the individual leads to
the best results for society as a whole; because, as
a matter of fact, particularly in the sphere of Com-
mercial activity, egoism is naturally the prevail-
ing motive; and because our observations of Con-
Crete phenomena are still too incomplete to allow
us to dispense entirely with the method of ab-
stract deduction. The English masters have deter-
mined for us thus far the general limits of the
science as a whole, and of various fundamental
questions. But as German science advances with
success by independent roads from the basis al-
ready laid, it forms a sharp contrast to that slavish
dependence upon the English and upon Manches-
terism which delights in following to their great-
est extremes the weaknesses and one-sidedness of
those great masters. — Recent English political
economy has been enriched by the Writings of
Prof. Cairnes, Hearn, Musgrave, Shadwell, Je- .
vons, Fawcett, W. T. Thornton, H. D. Macleod,
Bagehot, J. E. Thorold Rogers, Cliffe Leslie and
J. K. Ingram. J. S. Mill's great work, which is
still the best general treatise on economics in Eng-
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
255
lish, marked a turning point in English political
economy. It summed up all the contributions to
the science which had up to that time been made
by the Smith-Ricardo school of economists. In
that very work, however, Mill showed signs of dis-
agreement with some of the fundamental tenets of
the school. His views of distribution and Of the
limits of state interference mark a sharp contrast
to those of some of his immediate predecessors.
Before his death he gave signs of a still more
fundamental difference in giving up the wages-
fund theory, upon which he had laid such stress in
his great work. He was moved to this by an able
Work Of W. T. Thornton’s On ‘‘Labor.” Cliffe
Leslie and Professor Ingram may be said to be-
long to the historical school, and have distin-
guished themselves by their opposition to the or-
thodox economists. To these latter belong Cairnes
and Fawcett, the former of whom in his works on
the “Logical Mcthod of Political Economy,” and
“Some Leading Principles of Political Economy
Newly Expounded,” has made valuable additions
and corrections in the science. Rogers’ “History
of Agriculture and Prices in England,” Jevons'
“Theory of Political Economy,” and “Money
and the Mechanism of Exchange,” and Macleod’s
and Bagehot's writings on financial subjects, are
among the most valuable contributions of English
writers to economic science in the last twenty
years. — Recent (i. e., since 1850) French political
economy has not received the attention it deserves
from foreign writers. Several economic periodi-
cals are maintained, and many valuable IIloilo-
graphs have been published during the last thirty
years. In 1851–3 the Dictionnaire de l’Economie,
edited by Coquelin and Guillaumin, was published
— a vast treasure-house of economic science.
Among recent economists Michel Chevalier stands
first. He wrote chiefly on financial questions,
though he published also a “Course of Political
Economy.” Wolowski was a vigorous opponent
of Chevalier, an adherent of the historical school,
and a prolific writer on monetary questions. He
favored a double standard. Among other econ-
omists we may mention the following: Passy,
Reybaud; De Parieu, the author of an excellent
treatise on taxation; Garnier, a writer on finance;
Baudrillart, Cournot and Walras, the last two
devoted believers in the mathematical method of
investigating economic phenomena; A. Clement,
and Paul Leroy-Beaulieu. The tendencies of these
writers are as various, and in general the same, as
those already noticed in Germany and England.
Among the recent economists in the other conti-
mental countries we may mention Prof. Ferrara,
Boccardo, Mora, Bianchini, Messedaglia, Nazzani
and Cossa, in Italy; Brasseur, Périn, De Molinari
and De Lavelaye, in Belgium; Cherbuliez and
Sismondi, in Switzerland; Estrada, Colmeiro and
Santillan, in Spain; and Forjaz de Sampajo, in
Portugal. Of these, Ferrara was a man of re-
markable ability, and did the science great service
by his acute and brilliant criticism ; and by his
enthusiasm for economic studies he contributed
greatly to that widespread interest in such branch-
es which is characteristic of the new Italy. Cher.
buliez was an economist of great ability, and his
Précis de la Science économique is the ablest exposi-
tion of political economy in the French language.
— The history of political economy in America is
yet to be written. American economists, even
still more than their English brethren, have de-
voted their attention rather to practical than to
theoretical questions. Most of our economical
works have been written to defend one view or
the other of our great political and economical
problems. In general the same tendencies are ob-
servable here as in other countries. We have Our
irreconcilable free-traders, our bitter and bigoted
protectionists, our laissez faire, laissez passer school,
and our defenders of a paternal government.
With the exception of Henry Carey, our economists
have attracted no particular attention abroad, and
exercised no considerable influence. The study of
economics is becoming daily more and more wide-
spread, and the foundation of departments of
political science in connection with our collegesis
becoming quite common. Few countries in the
world offer as many advantages to the inductive
student of economics, as America. Here every-
thing is on such a grand scale, and the machinery
of society is still so simple, that extraordinary op-
portunities are offered to study the fundamental
elements of the great national economy in their
simplicity. There is but little doubt that the near
future will see valuable original work done in
ecollomics by ATInerican students. Among our
early writers on economics, Benjamin Franklin
may fairly lay claim to having anticipated, by a
full generation, Adam Smith's theory that labor is
the only proper measure of value, and also Mal-
thus’ theory of population, that man tends to in-
crease in numbers in a greater ratio than the
means of subsistence. Alexander Hamilton dis-
cussed in his reports many economic questions
with great ability. Daniel Raymond published
his “Elements of Political Economy” in 1819.
He took decided ground against Adam Smith,
emphasizing the distinction between individual
and national wealth, maintaining that our aim
should be to increase the latter even at the expense
of the former. He opposed Malthus’ theory, and
demanded protection for home manufactures by
means of a tariff. Cooper’s “Lectures on the
Elements of Political Economy,” published in
1826, took exactly opposite ground, and insisted
on the necessity of free trade. The word “nation,”
he says, is an empty word. The wealth of a
nation is nothing but the wealth of the individuals
who compose it, etc. —The most important, orig-
inal and acute American economist was Henry
C. Carey. Men oftentimes further the progress
of a science quite as much by their errors as by
the new truth they discover. Carey is one of
those writers whose views, although they are not
tenable either as a whole or in detail, have been
received with attention and appreciation by the
whole scientific world. He has had devoted fol-
256
ECONOMY.
POLITICAL
lowers in Germany, France and Italy, and al-
though his views have not been generally accepted,
yet they have exercised considerable influence in
a negative way, leading those whose theories he
attacked to a more careful formulation of what-
ever truth they contain. Carey, like Bastiat, pro-
ceeds in all his writings upon the assumption of a
complete harmony between natural and social in-
terests. In self-interest and in the innate desire
of man to better his external condition, he finds
the surest road to prosperity, the natural basis of
the moral progress of society. He not only denies
any antagonism between labor and capital, but
sees in the co-operation of these two factors the
most powerful means of promoting an increased
production, which will surely and continually
improve the condition of the laboring classes. He
boldly proclaims the possibility of an endless and
boundless growth. He starts with a thorough dis-
cussion of the ideas of value, labor and production.
He bases value upon labor, and makes the cost
of reproduction the standard of value. He then
passes to the theory of distribution, and makes his
harmony of interests the fundamental principle.
The tendency of man to increase is surpassed by
that of capital to multiply. The productivity of
labor is conditioned by the density of the popula-
tion. The more numerous the people, the more
extensive man’s control over nature, and the more
rapid the increase of capital. The share of the
laborer in the product becomes absolutely and rela-
tively greater, and that of the capitalist, although
relatively decreasing, is becoming absolutely larger
all the while. A constant diminution in the un-
productive classes follows this continued devel-
opment. Cary is, as will be seen, an opponent
of Malthus. He urges the possibility of emigra-
tion, the possibility of a fairer distribution of
wealth and the immense tracts of unoccupied
land in the world as proof of the falsity of Mal-
thus’ view. In his earlier writings Cary (in
agreement with Ricardo) assumed that cultivation
proceeds from the most productive to the less and
less productive lands. The increasing produc-
tivity of labor, however, causes a depreciation in
the value of the capital expended on lands in
early times, and consequently in the value of the
lands themselves. Iands rent at any given time
only for such a sum as represents the interest on
the capital required at that time to bring similar
lands into cultivation. This sum is always far
less than the sum actually expended on any piece
of ground. The value of land is consequently
controlled by the same laws as the value of all
other kinds of property. In his later works he
maintains that cultivation does not proceed from
the most productive to the less productive, but
in just the contrary order, from the least produc-
tive to the most productive. With the establish-
ment of this proposition, he proposes to over-
throw the whole doctrine of rent as set forth by
Ricardo. Carey's writings are permeated with a
feeling of bitter hostility to England, and are full
of gross errors of fact. In striking contrast with
his doctrine of the perfect harmony of all human
interests and of the advantages of freedom, Ca-
rey is a pronounced protectionist, maintaining
that English competition would ruin American
industry, and that in order to insure that diversity
of employments necessary to the highest civiliza-
tion, the active interference of the government
is necessary. — Most American economists agree
with Carey in rejecting the doctrines of Mal-
thus and Ricardo, though on various grounds.
Among recent economists the following deserve
especial mention: Prof. A. L. Perry of Williams
college, Prof. Francis A. Walker of the Boston
technological school, Prof. Sumner of Yale col-
lege, Prof. Thompson of Philadelphia, and Prof.
Henry George of California. Prof. Perry is a
pronounced free trader of the Bastiat type. His
text book on political economy has been perhaps
more widely used than any other recent publica-
tion in America. It contains some valuable
chapters on the history of the sciences, on value,
and on the tariff and currency. Prof. Walker's
works on “Money” and “Wages” have placed
him in the front rank of American economists.
His father’s work on the “Science of Wealth ''
is one of the best economic works which has ap-
peared in America. Prof. Thompson has pub-
lished a work, written to set forth the doctrines
of the Carey school in a more scientific form.
Among American economists Mr. David A. Wells
also occupies an exalted position. His earliest
economic writing was a cogent examination of
the debt and resources of the country, written
during the rebellion. This tract brought him
into notice as a statistican, and led to his appoint-
ment to the position of special commissioner of
the revenue (1865–9), and the reports he prepared
in these years are models of clear reasoning and
close application of general principles to facts.
While in this position he became convinced of
the many inconsistencies of the protective system,
and he has since become one of the leaders of a
movement for a reform of the tariff, and the
greater part of his writings have had reference
to this subject. As one of the commissioners to
revise the laws for the assessment and collection
of taxes in New York state, he made two re-
ports, the great merits of which have been widely
recognized, and greatly enhanced his reputation as
a writer on taxation. Mr. Wells’ writings, which
are scattered in many periodicals, are marked by
great clearness and accuracy, and form valuable
contributions to the economic literature of the
country. He belongs to no particular School of
economists. He has edited a volume of Bastiat's
essays, and prepared, in 1881, a “History of the
American Merchant Marine,” a work which ad
mirably illustrates his methods. Among Con-
temporary economists in America, Prof. W. G.
Sumner of Yale college occupies a very high
rank. His chief published economic works are
his “History of American Currency,” 1874; his
“History of Protection in the United States,”
1877; his collection of papers on “What the Social
POLITICAL SCIENCE,
257
classes Owe to each other,” 1883. Prof. Sum-
ner's strongest work, however, is not seen in his
published books.
tion. Prof. George's principal work is entitled
“Progress and Poverty,” and is mainly devoted
to a discussion of distribution. There are many
able writers on economics Connected with the
press of the country. But America is still waiting
for the man to appear who shall make her con-
tributions to the science as great and valuable as
those of any other nation. —LITERATURE. Die
geschächtliche Entwickelung der Nationalókonomik
ſund ihrer Literature, by Julius Kautz; Die Ge-
Schächte der Wationalókonomik, by H. Eisenhardt;
Histoire de l’Economie politique en Europe, by
Ad. Blanqui; Geschächte der Nationalókomomºk in
Deutschland, by W. Roscher, and the Guide to the
Study of Political Economy, by L. Cossa, are the
works which, aside from the original authorities,
have been chiefly consulted in compiling the pre
ceding article. Some of the expositions of the
doctrines held by the various schools have been
taken with but little change from the above-named
works. Prof. Cossa’s little work, based on the
larger special works in French, German and
Italian, is a very convenient summary of the most
valuable works on political economy in all lan-
guages. P. J. JAMES.
POLITICAL SCIENCE is that part of social
science which treats of the foundations of the
state and of the principles of government. It is
closely connected with political economy, or, as it
is sometimes called, the science of wealth ; with
law, be it natural or positive, which has princi-
pally to do with the relations of citizens to one
another; with history, which furnishes it with
the facts of which it has need; with philosophy,
and, above all, with morality, which supply it
with a part of its principles. Political science is
either theoretical or applied. In theory it estab-
lishes general laws, which it draws either from
experience or from reason, and which are as much
the generalized expression of facts as the pure con-
ception of an ideal more or less possible of reali-
Zation. As applied science, it seeks the means of
reducing to practice these general principles, tak-
ing into consideration time, place, manners, re-
Sources, in a word, circumstances. We shall
speak here only of theoretical political science,
and Our intention is not to propound any particu-
lar doctrine, but to give a summary, following
the order of time, of the principal theories which
the history of the science has preserved to us. –
We may divide the history of political ideas into
five periods: 1, the oriental period; 2, the Graeco-
Latin period; 3, the middle ages and the renais-
sance; 4, the modern period, which extends from
the sixteenth century to the time of the French
evolution; 5, the contemporaneous period. — I.
The East. We may say that the east (if we except
China) was never acquainted with political science.
Among most eastern nations, India, Persia, Judea,
politics never succeeded in separating itself from
136 VOL. III. — 17
It has been in his oral instruc-
theology. But if we discard the forms which are
peculiar to Oriental thought, we shall find in the
religious books of the east social and political
theories of the highest importance. For exam-
ple, the system of caste and the theocratic sys-
tem; such are the two principal ideas to which
Indian politics, or, to use a better expression,
Brahminical politics, may be reduced. We find,
in the sacred book of the “Laws of Manu,” a
very striking expression of these two ideas. It is
said there that the four castes, into which, from
all antiquity, Indian society was divided, issued
from Brahma, who produced them each from a
different part of his own body; the Brahmins, or
priests, from his mouth; the kshatryas, or warriors,
from his arm; the Vaisyas, or merchants, and la-
borers, from his thigh; and, finally, the sudras, or
servants, from his foot. The theocratic theory
appears in the same book in its most insolent
form. “The Brahmin,” it is said there, “is the
lord of all beings; all that exists is his property;
it is by the generosity of the Brahmin that other
men enjoy the goods of this world.” The book
of Manu admits, indeed, the existence of royalty,
and even, with oriental hyperbole, the monarch is
called therein “a great divinity”; but this divin-
ity is the slave of the Brahmins; he is obliged to
“communicate to them all his affairs, and over-
whelm them with benefactions and wealth.” One
sole fact describes this ignominious dependence
in a very striking manner: “If the king finds a
treasure,” it is written, “he owes half of it to the
Brahmins; if the Brahmin finds one, he keeps it
for himself alone, without dividing it with the
king.” — The Buddhist reformation profoundly
changed this social system, not because in the
beginning (as Burnouf has well shown) Buddha,
or Sakyamuni, attacked the system of caste; but
by proclaiming religious equality, he evidently
gave it a mortal blow. “My law is a law of
grace for all,” he said. He called, above all, beg-
gars and vagabonds to a religious life. These
principles bore their fruits. In one of the oldest
Buddhist legends, the system of caste is strongly
and deeply attacked: “There is not between the
Brahmin and a man of another caste the difference
which exists between a stone and gold, between
light and darkness. The Brahmin, in fact, did
not spring from the ether or the wind; he did not
rend the earth to appear in the light of day; he
was born from the matrix of a woman, like the
chandala (the vilest of creatures, inferior to the
sudra).” By its hostility to caste, Buddhism has
been able to extend everywhere in Asia, and prin-
cipally in China, where the people appear never
to have known this system; even where castes
exist still, as in Ceylon, Buddhism has destroyed
the theocratic character which the system had in
India, and has changed it into a military and feu-
dal system. — I shall say nothing of Persia, of
which we know so little, except that in the Zend-
avesta the system of caste appears in a singularly
mild form; that the priests are there rather coun-
cilors of the king than his masters; and especially
258
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
that, as this religion recommended above all agri-
culture as a sacred duty, there resulted a notice-
able change of condition for the class of laborers;
for the latter were ranked among the atharnés,
that is to say, great. — It is chiefly in China that
we find something analogous to what we call in
the west political science; not because Confucius,
the most celebrated of Chinese sages, was much
<ngrossed with this science ; but his disciple, or
irather the reformer of his doctrine, two centuries
after him, Mencius, was an ingenious and liberal
publicist, as the following anecdote proves. He
was conversing with the king of Tsi. “What
must be done,” he asked him, “with a friend
who has badly administered our affairs?” “Break
with him,” said the king. “And with a magis-
trate who has not well fulfilled his functions?”
“Remove him,” said the king. “And if the
provinces are badly governed, what must be
done?” The king, feigning not to understand
him, glanced to the right and to the left, and spoke
of something else. The political theory of Men-
cius consisted in a sort of conciliation between
divine right and the sovereignty of the people.
The emperor, according to him, does not appoint
his successor, but he presents him to the accept-
ance of Heaven and of the people ; a doctrine
conformable to the traditions of the sacred books
of China. We know, doubtless, what becomes,
in the politics of absolute governments, of this
pretended acceptance by the people; it is most
generally a fiction. But what is not a fiction, is
£he right, recognized to exist in the people by
Mencius, to rid themselves of the kings with
whom they are dissatisfied ; a right which the
Uhinese people seem to have exercised more than
once, if we can judge by the number of their dy.
Anasties. Moreover, Mencius himself exercised a
very bold right of censure at the courts of the dif-
ferent princes he frequented. He attacked tyr-
anny under all its forms, and particularly because
it was a burden upon property. He showed great
Sagacity in pointing out the bond which united
order with property; in him there was no vestige
of caste or of aristocracy. He divided society
into two classes: those who work with the head,
and those who work with their hands, and, which
is indeed the sign of a laborious and industrial
society, he endeavored chiefly to show that intel-
ligence is itself labor, and that manual labor can
not be exacted from all ; a manifest proof that the
latter was not despised nor sacrificed, since a wise
man was obliged to apologize for the former. —
However curious and new the study of the politi-
cal theories of the east may be for science, these
theories have had so little influence upon our des-
tinies, or at least an influence so indirect and so
little apparent, that we must pass on to Greece,
that is to say, to the cradle of western civilization.
—II. Graeco-Roman Period. The little space which
we have at our disposal forces us to reduce politi-
cal science in antiquity to three names : Plato,
Aristotle and Cicero. — Nothing is more common
than to consider Plato as a political dreamer, who
was deceived because he did not take experience
into consideration, and because he wished to con-
struct society on an impossible basis. An impor-
tant distinction must be drawn here, one without
which we can not understand Plato, nor do his
genius the justice which it deserves. A distinc-
tion must be drawn between utopian politics and
ideal politics. The first consists in combining are
tificially, and by means of the imagination, the
elements of which all society is composed, and
thus creating an arbitrary mechanism, which has
no life, no reality, no possible application, either
present or future. Such are the utopias of Sir
Thomas More, of Campanella, and of some of our
modern reformers. Ideal politics, on the contra-
ry, consists in forming a true idea of the state, in
conceiving it in its perfection (as much so, of
course, as the limits of the human mind permit),
finally, in presenting to Societies a model, as mo-
rality presents one to individuals. No state will
ever reach that perfection, any more than any
hero or any Saint has ever attained or will ever
attain moral perfection. But if we do not forbid
morality to propose an ideal to men, why should
we forbid politics to present one to peoples and to
governments? Now, there is in the politics of
Plato a utopian part and an ideal part. The first
is dead, and will not revive; the second is eternal.
It is utopism, in Plato, to consider society as di-
vided into four stereotyped classes, like the Indian
or Egyptian castes; it is utopism to believe that
the state will have more unity, more harmony,
more patriotism, because you have suppressed the
family and property; it is utopism to have con-
sidered woman as like to man, and as capable of
the same functions as man, for instance, of bear-
ing arms and of governing the state; it is utopism
to suppress the laws in the state, and to replace
them by education alone ; it is utopism to make
philosophers the governing class, and thus to con-
found speculation with practice; finally, it is utop-
ism to exclude poetry from the republic, to reduce
music and the fine arts to the servile obedience of
a fixed type, protected by tyranny, jealous of its
arbitrary censure. But what is not utopism in
Plato, is to have conceived justice as the true end
of Society, and to have made justice consist in the
concord and harmony of the citizens. What is
not utopism, whatever the politics of Machiavel-
lism may say to the contrary, is to have asserted
that the true strength of the state is virtue, and
that the true principle of virtue is education.
Education can not, then, replace the laws, but it is
education that gives soul and spirit to the laws.
For what is the use of a law which is not observed?
And what can sustain the laws, if not morals?
What is not utopism, moreover, in Plato, is to
have perceived, before Aristotle, that it was in a
well-moderated and well-balanced constitution that
the only guarantee of liberty resided ; to have ex-
acted of legislators that they should give the
reasons for their laws when they promulgated
them; finally, to have demanded for criminals not
Only punishment, but amendment and amelior-
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
259
‘ation. — Still, an important element is lacking in
the Platonic ideal; it is the idea of liberty. In
his “Republic,” Plato gives liberty no place; and
if, in his dialogue of the “Laws,” much wiser, as
we know, if he gives it a place, it is in a certain
manner despite himself and against his real feel-
ings. This is easy of explanation, Plato had
witnessed at Athens the excesses of liberty, and he
Jhad suffered from those excesses. By a natural
illusion, which we have often seen again, he con-
sidered the sovereign good to lie in the very oppo-
site of what he had witnessed near at hand, and
he idealized Sparta, Crete and even Egypt, rather
than appear to consider the laws and customs of
his own country right; a kind of blindness habit-
Rual with the school of Socrates, and of which
Xenophon is still more culpable than Plato. —
If Plato founded ideal politics (not without an
admixture of utopism), Aristotle founded experi-
mental politics. Not that there are no facts in
Plato, and that Aristotle is destitute of ideality;
but we must characterize each of them by his
most striking traits. What there is newer and
absolutely lasting in the politics of Aristotle is,
first, his method; that is, the analysis of facts,
the reduction of a complex whole to its elements.
For example, the state is the object of politics.
Now, the state is evidently a whole composed of
a very great number of elements. The analysis
of this whole, of its integral parts, of its divers
forms, of its successive phases, is political science.
Such is the method of Aristotle; it is the most
rigorous, the most scientific, that can be em-
ployed. It is that which, later, all the great
publicists of the experimental school followed—
Machiavelli, Bodin, Montesquieu, Locke and de
Tocqueville. Aristotle took so much into account
the conditions of the experimental method applied
to politics, that, before writing his great work, he
had collected, we are told, the constitutions of
360 republics or governments, and had analyzed
them in a book unfortunately lost. In them he
found the materials for his political doctrine; from
them he took his examples; from them, doubt-
less, he drew his admirable analyses of the con-
stitutions of Sparta, of Crete and of Carthage,
models of political judgment. —We may say, also,
that it is Aristotle who has fixed the frame, the
great lines, the principal divisions, the principal
problems, of political philosophy. The theory of
sovereignty, the division of governments, the
analysis and criticism of their different kinds, the
theory of execution, the theory of revolutions:
such are the different matters which the “Repub-
lic * of Aristotle treats of, after an introduction
devoted to some questions of natural law and to
a criticism of the most celebrated constitutions,
real or imaginary. It is the strong sentiment of
reality and the observation of the nature of things
which led Aristotle to discover all the falseness of
Platonic utopias, and in particular of £hat vain
fraternity, which made of all citizens the indis-
tinct children of unknown fathers and mothers.
“It is better,” says Aristotle, wittily, “to be a
cousin in the actual system, than a brother in the
system of Plato.” He said, further, that “the
affections were lost in a community, like a few
drops of honey in a vast extent of water.” No
modern economist has recognized better than
Aristotle the emptiness of that abstract and chi-
merical unity which absorbs the individual in the
state. “It is wishing to draw harmony,” says
Aristotle again, “from one single chord, to have
rhythm with a single measure.” He shows that
the suppression of property would not suppress
quarrels and trials at law. There are as many
quarrels between owners of goods in common as
between those who have personal goods. Besides,
the greatest crimes are not occasioned by the ab-
sence of possession. “Tyranny does not usurp
anything for the purpose of guaranteeing itself
from the inclemencies of the air.”— It is the same
lively feeling of the reality and the observation
of the nature of things which caused Aristotle to
discover this great truth, that man is naturally
born for society, or, as has been so often said, is
a political animal. Without society, man would
be either a god or a beast. Society is composed
of families. The family is distinguished from the
state, in that the state is composed of men free
and equal, while the family rests upon inequality.
But it is a delicate achievement of Aristotle that
he distinguished conjugal power from paternal
power, the first of which is, he says, more like
republican power, and the second more like royal
power. — In politics, properly so called, Aristotle
admirably grasped the principle of the responsi-
bility of power. “It is not the cook,” he says,
“it is the guest who judges the banquet.” He
prefers the guaranty of the law to that which
rests only in the wisdom of a prince. “To de-
mand the absolute sovereignty of a king,” he
says, “is to declare sovereigns both the man and
the beast.” While appreciating with the utmost
correctness the strength and the weakness of the
different governments, he pronounces, as far as
he himself is concerned, in favor of government
by the middle classes. According to him, the
great do not know how to obey, and the low do
not know how to command. Both always wish
to be tyrants. The middle classes, leaning as
much to one side as to the other, hold alternately
in check these two natural enemies, the nobility
and the people. It is here, in fact, in the natural
hostility of the rich and the poor, of the strong
and the weak, of the great and the people, that
Aristotle sees the principle of all revolution. The
one party desires inequality everywhere, even
where it is unjust; the other wishes equality every-
where, even where it is absurd and impossible;
and hence all states toss about between arbitrary
inequality and a violent equality. Hence, the re-
volts of the people in aristocracies, and of the
great in democracies. The advice given by Aris-
totle, to escape these dangers, is that no govern-
ment should abuse its principle. Democracy
perishes by the excess of democratic institutions.
And so with monarchy and oligarchy. On the
260
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
contrary, the people, in democracies, should ap-
pear occupied only with the interest of the rich;
and, in oligarchies, the great should have in
view only the interest of the people. Even in tyr-
annies, power can not exist, except on the Con-
dition of its being moderate. All these principles,
so sensible, so practical, so frequently proven,
are summed up in the excellent maxim of eternal
application, “Authority is more lasting in propor-
tion as it is less extended.” — But if the method of
observation and of experience revealed to Aris-
totle so many remarkable and profound laws, it
unfortunately also contributed to close his eyes to
one of the greatest injustices of ancient Society,
to slavery. Always preoccupied with the finding
of the reason of facts, and much less with weigh-
ing the justice of them, Aristotle sought to ex-
plain slavery; and in explaining it, he justified
it. He was rather inclined to extend than to re-
strain the practice of it, for he lays it down as a
principle that there are two classes of men; one
made to obey, and the other to command. The
former are the slaves, the latter freemen. It is
not war, nor law, nor Covenant, which makes
slavery; it is nature. And if we ask Aristotle
who are the men that nature has thus condemned
to slavery, he answers that they are those who are
good only for manual labor; he seems to believe
that nature herself designed them to be slaves by
giving them an entirely material vigor, necessary
for the coarser work of society, while she reserved
for freemen nobility and beauty. It Often hap-
pens, however, that there are men who have only
the body of the freeman, while others have only
his soul. It is easy, therefore, to be deceived. —
Contempt for manual labor is the greatest preju-
dice we meet with in the politics of Aristotle.
He even goes so far that he has attempted to con-
found the laborer with the slave, and in more than
one place he divides Society into two classes:
the freemen, who have the necessary leisure to
devote themselves to war, politics and philosophy;
and the artisans, or slaves, who produce the means
of subsistence for the former. A free Society,
that is to say, an imperceptible oligarchy, main-
tained by a slave Society, that is to say, by the
mass of men—such is Aristotle's ideal. Neverthe-
less, if we compare the politics of the latter with
Plato's, it can not be denied that it is more true,
more sensible and more practical than Plato's. –
Cicero is not an Original publicist ; and the RO-
mans, great politicians in practice as they were,
did not produce in this respect great theorizers.
Still, it is in Cicero that we find best developed
that great idea of a mixed government which
was the hope and the desire of many Sages, until
it found realization in the English constitution.
After having set forth and compared the advan-
tages and inconveniences of the different forms
of government, Cicero decides in favor of a mixed
government, or of a Supreme and royal power,
united to the authority of a distinguished class,
and to a certain liberty of the people, which
satisfies both the demands of order and those
instrument of unity.
of equality that exist together in human na-
ture. This government would be the most sta-
ble of all, because of its moderation and temper-
ament. It is the condition of all that is tem-
perate to last a long time, “and extremes are
readily changed to their contraries.” Cicero,
following the example of Polybius, believed that
the Roman government was an example of a
mixed and temperate government. The govern-
ment at Rome was at first monarchical. Royalty,
overthrown by the revolution of Brutus, reap-
peared, divided and diminished, under the name
of the consulate. In this second period, the con-
stitution was wholly aristocratic. A new revolu-
tion, that of Virginius, introduced the people into
the government. Henceforth, the consulate, the
senate, and the tribuneship of the people, accom-
panied by many other institutions, some aristo-
cratic, and some popular, represented, in their
union, that form of temperate government, a
mixture of monarchy, aristocracy and republic,
which Cicero extols as the best and most secure
of all forms of government. Without contesting
his opinion upon this point, we content ourselves
with observing that it is only by twisting the sense
of the words, that we can make the consulate
pass for a monarchical institution; and that, in
reality, the Roman government was never any-
thing but an aristocratic constitution, slowly trans-
forming itself into a democracy. —III. The Middle
Ages and the Renaissance. The period which ex-
tends from the end of antiquity to the middle of
the middle ages, that is, to the thirteenth century,
that period so great in the religious history of the
human mind, has not the same importance in poli-
tics; it is only necessary to call attention, in its be-
ginning, to Christian politics, by comparing it with
Hebrew politics. –The politics of the Hebrews, in
the beginning, or at least from the time of Moses,
was theocratic politics, although not sacerdotal.
God was the only king, the only lord, the only
proprietor of the land. It was with him that the
people covenanted through the mediation of
Moses. But the priests were not, as in India,
the governing class. The tribe of Levi was ex-
cluded from a share in land, with the exception
of certain cities which had been given to them.
The priests were a family, not a caste. The priest-
hood extended through all the tribes, and was an
It had, moreover, consider-
able political influence, serving as an intermedi-
ary between God and the people. After Moses,
power appears to have been patriarchal and dem-
ocratic, concentrated only in critical moments in
the hands of a military chief. The disorders
which resulted from this state of things led the
Hebrews to desire a monarchical government. It
is probable that the priesthood little favored this
institution; for we see Samuel strongly reproving
the people upon this occasion, and threatening
them, on the part of God, with the most frightful
despotism. Still, in becoming monarchical, the
government did not entirely lose its theocratic
character. Consecration and anointment suffi-
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
261
ciently prove this. The Sacerdotal power con-
tinued to remain powerful; finally, outside of
the established church, there were always im-
mediate envoys of God, who, without any other
title than divine inspiration, admonished the
kings and held their ambition in check. These
were the prophets, a sort of popular opposition,
which was, however, as often directed against the
people themselves as against the royal authority.
— Such were the sources at which, later, Christian
politics drank. But in the beginning, like all
great religious doctrines, Christianity was not po-
litical. It was an entirely moral kingdom that
it wished to found; it was in this moral kingdom
that the first were the last and the last first.
Christ meant by this, not that it was necessary to
change the social order, but that the social and
political order was as nothing compared with the
true order, the moral and religious order of things,
But he did not ask to change anything here be-
low. His kingdom was not of this world. The
apostle Paul sums up the same ideas in these cel-
ebrated words: “Let every soul be subject unto
the higher powers. For there is no power but of
God: the powers that be, are ordained of God.”
Christian politics was, therefore, in the earliest
times, only the politics of obedience and of sub-
mission to the established powers. The only rev-
olution of which it thought was the reform of
souls. – It is not our province to investigate here
the social consequences of Christianity. We know
the great influence it had in the greatest social fact
of modern times, the abolition of slavery. We
shall limit ourselves here to political doctrines.
Now, one of the questions that Christian politics
gave rise to, is that of the relations of church and
state. We know how that question is solved in
the Gospel: “Render unto Caesar the things which
are Caesar's ; and unto God the things that are
God’s.” All the primitive church remained faith-
ful to this maxim, tempered by these words of the
apostle : “We ought to obey God rather than
men.” Later, when the state became Christian,
the church showed very great power of resistance
and very great ambition.
whole of the middle ages was the struggle of these
two powers. This struggle, which fills up history,
fills up, also, all the writings of the time; on the
one side the writings of the theologians, and on
the other of the jurisconsults. We can scarcely
give a summary of such a controversy, which has
filled vast numbers of books, but we can point
out the principles involved in it. It is to be re-
marked that in this struggle, in which were ap-
pealed to in turn the principle of the divine right
of kings and the principle of the sovereignty of the
people, it was chiefly the laymen or jurisconsults
who appealed to the former, and the theologians
to the latter. The partisans of the civil power
were interested in making the origin of power
flow directly from God, in order that they might
not appear to hold it from the hands of the church.
The church, on the contrary, was interested in
demonstrating the human origin of this power,
We know that the
in order to rule more easily. Hinkmar, Gregory
VII., Innocent III., John of Salisbury, Saint
Thomas Aquinas, and Giles of Rome, were the
defenders of the ecclesiastical power in the mid-
dle ages. The jurisconsults Dante, Occam, and
Mariel of Padua, were the principal defenders of
the civil power. The thirteenth century wit-
nessed the triumph of the theocratic school. The
fourteenth century witnessed its ruin. —But new
ideas and new light are spread among the people.
The reading of ancient writers, now resumed,
freed the mind in every sphere. Scholasticism
drooped and died; more experience, more reflec-
tion, more curiosity, gave birth to new methods
and to a new language. Politics was the first of
the sciences to profit by this revolution, but not
without injury to morality. We have met Mach-
iavelli. — Machiavelli substituted in politics, for
the wholly syllogistic method of the schools, the
method of observation and of experience, such
as we have already seen it in Aristotle. Still,
there is a difference in the methods of these two
great minds. In Machiavelli the method was
rather empirical than really experimental. To
explain: the great experimental method, as under-
stood by Aristotle and Montesquieu, consists in
gathering together, on a very large scale, the most
general facts of the political order and converting
them into laws. The division of governments,
the division of powers, the forms and conditions
of sovereignty, the laws according to which gov-
ernments are formed, grow and decay—such are
the objects of political science; and experience
is the method which serves to discover them.
Machiavelli did not seek such general results.
His end was much nearer home, and was always
reduced to this practical problem: How is it nec-
essary to act under such and such circumstances?
Politics, as he understood it, is less a science than
an art; he gathers together tentatively certain ex-
amples, and he advises us to act after certain
models, whose acts he relates. Hence, instead of
general laws, founded upon the analysis of facts,
he gives us precepts, founded upon examples:
this is empiricism, not science. —We know, too,
what an indifference to good and evil, to justice
and injustice, Machiavelli introduced into politics.
Cruelty and bad faith, those weapons so familiar
to the Italian politics of the fifteenth century,
seemed to him most innocent, and he recommend-
ed them with the most perfect indifference. It
has been said that these criminal counsels which
fill the book of the “Prince” were only a feint,
whose object was to render tyranny odious. But
it is difficult to admit such a theory. For, in the
first place, the “Prince ’’ has by no means the
character which is ascribed to it; and, besides, we
find the same maxims both in the correspondence
of Machiavelli and in his discourse on Titus
Livius, a work infinitely superior to the “Prince”
in its political bearing, and in the elevation of its
ideas. Finally, Machiavellism was not only the
doctrine of a man, but of a century. Machiavelli
disclosed the secret of his age; and it must be
262
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
avowed that there is always more or less of
Machiavellism in the politics of all times. (See
MACHIAVELLISM.) — From the purely political
point of view, Machiavelli seems to have two doc-
trines: the one popular and republican, in his
“Discourse”; the other tyrannical and monarchi-
cal, in the “Prince.” This contradiction is ex-
plained by the empiricism of Machiavelli, who was
more Occupied with studying facts and explaining
ways and means, than with exposing principles.
In one of these works he studies popular govern-
ments; in the other, princely governments, and
particularly that of new princes. He points out
what experience has taught him in regard to
the means of elevating and making prosperous
these two forms of government. It has been
conjectured that in the book of the “Prince’
he advises tyranny only in the interest of liber-
ty; tyranny would be to him only a democratic
dictatorship. It is difficult to discern this idea
in the “Prince,” though some passages of the
“Discourse ’’ may authorize it. Let us add that
the more popular and more liberal politics of the
“Discourse ’’ appear much more conformable to
the real thoughts of Machiavelli than the politics
of the “Prince.” — The sixteenth century was
especially a century of politics. The great relig-
ious reformation, excited by Luther, was of profit
to the science of the state. When the foundations
of religious belief had been submitted to exam-
ination, the time was not far off when political
beliefs would have to undergo the same examina-
tion. Hence nothing is more interesting in this
respect than the political writings of the sixteenth
century; for the first time a bold examination
was made of the foundations of the right of sov-
ereignty ; those rights of the people and of kings,
which, according to Cardinal de Retz, “never
accorded so well with one another as in silence,”
were laid bare. The Protestant schools gave the
signal. Hotman in his Franco-Gallia, Hubert
Languet in his Windºcła, contra tyrannos, Buchan-
an in his De jure regn? apud Scotos, propounded
the principles of a system of politics boldly revo-
lutionary and democratic. Hubert Languet, in
particular, first brought to light the principle of
contract, which was later to become so famous in
the hands of another Protestant and republican,
J. J. Rousseau. Before long the Catholics, drawn
into the struggle, rivaled the Protestants in revo-
lutionary ardor. They even pushed anarchical
principles so far that they even authorized and
defended regicide. The writings of the Jesuits,
and, in particular, the celebrated De Rege of
Mariana, prove this. Among all these polemical
writings, which have as much excited minds as
perfected science, we must single out one of the
greatest monuments of political science, the Ré-
publique of Bodin. This book, composed almost
upon the plan of Aristotle's “Politics,” and
which, in its vast compass, contains and sums up
all the problems of politics, is remarkable for the
number of its facts, of its historic examples, for
its judicial and even economic knowledge, for its
moral elevation and its political moderation. But
we can not say that it contains truly new and orig-
inal principles. What is most remarkable in it,
is a very fine polemic against slavery ; a polemic
which was then only too timely, the discovery of
America having brought about a sad increase in
the evil of slavery. We must not forget to men-
tion, finally, the eloquent appeal of L'Hospital
in favor of freedom of conscience. — IV. Modern,
Times. The seventeenth century scarcely pro-
duced any great publicists, save in England. For
it is only where liberty exists, or at least where it
is a matter of dispute, that politics acquire new
light. Two names arise above all others in this.
strife of parties and of political schools : Hobbes,
the defender of absolute power ; and Locke, the
heir of the doctrines of Buchanan and of Languet,
and the defender of the sovereignty of the people.
— Hobbes takes as his point of departure the prin-
ciple that man has the absolute right of self-pres-
ervation by all possible means ; and according
this same right to all men, he very logically con-
cludes that the state of nature is a state of war of
all against all. He has no difficulty in making it
appear that this state is a threatening one for
everybody; for the weak in the first place, who
are oppressed by the strong; and then for the
strong, who may be oppressed by the weak leagued
against them. In this common state of disqui-
etude the only means of guaranteeing the security
of all is for each one to resign the absolute right
which he has over all things, and transfer that
right, with all its consequences, to a central power
(prince, assembly or people), which thus becomes
sovereign. The sovereign is, then, a public per-
sonage, invested, through the renunciation of their
rights by the members of society, with absolute
power. Hobbes is not exclusively a partisan of
the power of one man. Doubtless he prefers
monarchy to the other forms of government. But
he admits them all; the only principle to which
he holds, is the principle of absolute power, in
whatever hands this power may be placed. He
makes no reservation of the rights of citizens or
of subjects, and he abandons them, bound hand
and foot, to the absolute arbitrary power of the
state. — Such are the principles contained in the
De Cºve, or the ‘‘Leviathan,” the most audacious
pleas which have ever been written in favor of
absolute power. Hobbes had witnessed the Eng-
lish revolution; he had taken sides with the Stu-
arts, and it was to defend them that he composed
these vigorous but detestable works. Locke, a
partisan of William of Orange, and defender of
the revolution of 1688, wrote, to refute the Writ-
ings of Hobbes, of Filmer, and of other apologists
of absolute power, the “Essay on Civil Govern-
ment,” one of the best treatises on politics that we
possess. – He maintains, against Hobbes, that
even in the state of nature there is a primitive
law which does not permit each to do anything,
no matter what, for his self-preservation. The
state of nature is nothing but the state in which
men live when they have no superior to settle
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
263
their differences. In this state they have none the
less reciprocal rights; and if it is permitted them
to use force, it is not for attack, but for defense.
Among these natural rights, anterior to civil law,
Locke puts in the first rank, property, which he
bases upon human labor; a doctrine entirely new
then, and which has since become almost hack-
neyed. Liberty of person and liberty of labor are
also natural rights of men. Hence Locke ener-
getically combats slavery. Finally, his conclusion
is, that the civil power, far from being based upon
the renunciation by the citizens of all their rights,
is, on the contrary, instituted for the protection
of these very rights. It has been sought to derive
the civil power from the paternal power; this was
the theory of Filmer, in his “Patriarcha,” in
which he considered all the princes of the earth
as heirs of Adam. Algernon Sidney, in his “Dis-
course upon Government,” had already refuted
this strange theory. Locke shows that the pater-
nal power itself is instituted in the interest of the
children, and does not extend beyond the time
when the son has become a free man at his major-
ity. The civil power, neither resting upon force
nor upon the paternal right, Locke derives from
popular consent; and from this principle he draws
unhesitatingly the gravest consequence which it
contains, namely, the right of insurrection, which
he calls the right of appeal to heaven. — The
seventeenth century was more fruitful, so far as
political science was concerned, in England than
in France. La politique tirée de l’Ecriture Sainte,
by Bossuet, is the only work of any consequence
written by the pen of a Frenchman at that time.
It is an apology for absolute power and for the
divine right of kings. Yet, if justice is to be
done to Bossuet, he must not be confounded with
Hobbes. The former endeavored to distinguish
arbitrary power from absolute power. He recog-
nized certain fundamental laws, which are the
natural limit of power; he excepted life and prop-
erty from the absolute power which the Sovereign
possesses; finally, while according him all rights,
he did not overlook his duties. But even with
these restrictions, the politics of Bossuet is none
the less among the most absolute that we know.
Let us add, that he understood nothing of the
freedom of conscience, and that slavery itself ap-
peared to him to be a legitimate institution. Such
were the political doctrines of France. Fenelon,
indeed, was more liberal minded than BOSSuet,
but rather from an aristocratic than from a popu-
lar point of view. — After Louis XIV. and after
Fenelon, minds were freed little by little, and
turned to the examination of religious and of po-
litical affairs. The Lettres persames and the Lettres
anglaises were the signal given by the two masters
of the century, Voltaire and Montesquieu; the for-
mer submitting all things, and, in particular, penal
matters, to the great freedom of his judgment,
so sensible and so penetrating; the latter, after
the first brilliancy of the Lettres persanes and the
vigorous masterpiece, Considérations sur la grand-
eur et la décadence des Romaëns, collecting his
thoughts during twenty years to raise up for po-
litical Science one of its most magnificent monu-
ments, the Esprit des lois. – The Esprit des lois is
one of the most difficult books to analyze, for it
does not contain, properly speaking, any system;
but there is not one of its pages which is not full
of sense and of profundity; we may criticise his
division of governments and his theory of their
principles; but what is beyond all admiration is
the profound and penetrating judgment which he
brings to bear upon each one of them; his analysis
of monarchy, founded upon honor and upon the
privileges of the intermediary bodies, is a great
truth. He has perceived with genius that the
suppression of the intermediary powers would
lead directly to despotism or to the power of the
people. Nothing can be finer than what he has
written upon the corruption of governments.
Finally, when he says that monarchy rests upon
honor, and the republic upon virtue, he advances
indeed a maxim which is subject to restriction,
but the basis of which is true. What constitutes.
the difference between aristocratic monarchy as it
existed in France in the seventeenth century, and
despotism as it exists in Turkey and in the east, is,
that the power which is not limited by the laws is
necessarily limited by manners and customs. It
will be said that in Turkey even there are manners
and customs which limit the empire of the sov-
ereign. But that only proves that nowhere, not
even in Turkey, is there absolute despotism. As
for the principle of virtue, it is perfectly clear that
popular governments have more need of it than
other governments. Read, for example, the chap-
ters of Montesquieu upon the corruption of de-
mocracies, and you will see what difficult duties
await citizens the day they wish to be free. We
learn there that the love of equality becomes the
ruin of equality itself, if it does not know how to
confine itself within its true limits; if, not content
to be equal as citizens, we wish to be so also as
Sons and as brothers, as young and as old, as sub-
jects and as magistrates. We learn also how obe-
dience to the law is necessary in a country in
which the law is made by the citizens themselves.
We may find that Montesquieu yields too much
to ancient prejudices, in considering frugality
necessary in democracies : but it must be granted
him that a certain sobriety, a certain moderation,
in enjoyment, is one of the guarantees of liberty;
and that where the disordinate love of the pleasures,
of the senses rules, the country and the law run.
the risk of being held of little account. — Moved:
by the desire to oppose the temperate and circum-
spect politics of Montesquieu to the rash and ad-
venturous politics of J. J. Rousseau, the conserva-
tive spirit of the former has been frequently much
exaggerated, as well as the revolutionary spirit of
the latter. Montesquieu said: “I have not natur-
ally a disapproving spirit.” It has been concluded
from this, that he was more ready to counsel the
maintenance of abuse than the Overthrow of the
established order. Nothing could be more incor-
rect than such a view. The moderation of his
264
POLITICAL SCIENCE,
tone ought not to close our eyes to what is bold
and impassioned in the Esprit des lois. Montes-
quieu wished, as much as any man of his time, for
a new society, so new indeed that we can still de-
sire a part of what he dreamed of. If we except
the venality of offices, which a remnant of domes-
tic prejudice led him to spare, and which was be-
sides a sort of guaranty against arbitrary power,
there is not a single abuse which Montesquieu
did not attack with as much force as any philoso-
pher of his time. Before Voltaire and Beccaria,
he demanded the reform of the penal code, and
the proportionment of punishments to offenses.
Before Rousseau and Raynal, he eloquently at-
tacked the institution of slavery. Before the En-
cyclopédie, he pleaded the cause of toleration. —
But among the greatest of the new things in
Montesquieu must be reckoned the principle of
the separation of the powers, the checks and bal-
ances of governments. Before him it had been
indeed seen that there was in society a power to
make the laws, a power to declare or interpret
them, and a power to execute them; in a word,
three powers, the legislative, the judicial and the
executive. . This division, had already appeared
in Aristotle; and there was an analogous one, al-
though a little different, in Locke. But no one,
not even Locke, had perceived that the separation
of these powers is the essential condition of lib-
erty; that if the power which makes the laws is
also the one which executes and interprets them,
it is of necessity a tyrant; for nothing is opposed
to its authority. The safety of the citizens is only
guaranteed by the separation of the powers. Power
checks power. Such is the principle which Mon-
tesquieu discussed in the constitution of England,
and which has often been confounded, although
it is profoundly different from it, with another
principle, which does not properly belong to Mon-
tesquieu, the principle of mixed governments.
These are two distinct things, for the separation
of powers can take place in a simple government,
for example, the American republic; and on the
other hand, in a mixed constitution, the powers
may be confounded, for example, in the Roman
constitution. Of these two principles, the first,
we may say, is eternal and universal; the second
depends on "circumstances. Wherever political
society exists the powers should be separate; else
the citizens are oppressed. But it is not absolutely
necessary that monarchy or aristocracy should be
united to democracy. Finally, among modern
publicists, Montesquieu is one of those who have
insisted most upon the greatness and importance
of political liberty in the state. Locke had already
done so; but it is perhaps owing to Montesquieu
that the idea was promulgated throughout the
world, and that it was added, as an indestructible
element, to the patrimony of universal reason. —
To the politics of Montesquieu is naturally op-
posed the politics of J. J. Rousseau. His politics
have been so often criticised, that it will be to the
point, perhaps, to set forth its merits rather than
its defects. This is not saying that we approve
of the whole of the Contral Social. There are in
that book very dangerous and very bad opinions:
in the chapter upon civil religion, an admiration
beyond bounds for the very imperfect republics
of antiquity, and, an unintelligent aversion for the
very wise principle of representation, the only
means of establishing liberty in our modern socie-
ties. But, all reservations made, I find that the
maxims of the Contrat Social are often interpreted
in an incorrect manner, and that there is more
truth in the book than it is the custom to acknowl-
edge. — It is constantly advanced as an argument
against Rousseau that he has said that human
Society, in general, had its origin in an agreement,
in a contract. But it has not been sufficiently re-
marked that in the Contrat Social Rousseau treats
only of civil and political society. It is that, ac-
cording to him, which has its origin in contract.
He seeks, he says, with judgment and precision,
“the act by which a people is a people.” Now, it
is this act, which, in his opinion, is a contract. —
To thoroughly appreciate the value of this prin-
ciple it is necessary to be informed that Rousseau
does not examine what is, in fact, the principle
upon which civil society rests, but what is in law,
in abstracto, the principle of any political order
whatever, all particular circumstances being left
out of consideration. This is a political meta-
physical investigation, one which may be danger-
ousin its consequences without being false in itself.
For the truest principle may be wrongly inter-
preted and wrongly applied. Besides, Rousseau
seems himself to have taken precautions in ad-
vance against the abuse which might be made of
his principles, by frequently repeating, in his
work, that the best government is that which is
most conformable to the character of the people
for whom it is made, that there is not a prior a
perfect and absolute form of government; that all
depends upon circumstances, etc. Consequently,
even although the principle of the social contract
should be admitted, it would not follow that Rous-
seau authorized the application of it hºc et nºunc
without restriction; the person who should rash-
1y try to apply this principle, would only have
himself to blame for the consequences, like a
mechanic who rigorously applied a mathematical
formula without taking into account friction and
resistance. — The truth of Rousseau's principle
may be demonstrated by many incontestable facts.
How, for example, can naturalization be explained,
if the principle that it is of my own free will that
I may form part of any political society whatever
is not admitted? Without doubt, I can not free
myself from human society in general (and yet
what prevents me from going to live as a hermit
in uninhabited places?); but I can cease to be a
Frenchman, to become a Russian or a Turk, if I
please, and vice versa. This is, in truth, only
making use of my own individual free will. But
we have seen this practice pass from individuals to
nations; and, although we may contest the actual
application of it, we can not contest its legitimacy.
How, except by the principle of contract, can the
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
265
recent acts of annexation by popular consent be
otherwise explained? Was this not openly to pro-
claim that a people is a people only by the free
consent of its members? It is by virtue of the
same principle that in the United States a new
state is admitted to the Union; and if the right of
secession was discussed there by armed force, it is
because the interpretation of conventions has not
always been agreed on. Even in kingdoms, which
are created by conquest or by family alliance,
national unity exists only when there is a real or
supposed consent of the population. There is in
such a case a sort of tacit contract between the
conquering and the conquered peoples. Where
such a contract does not exist, the conquest is
always ruinous, and the people are always ready
for revolt. Is such a state legitimate? Why,
to-day, do all enlightened people want a constitu-
tion? It is because they intend to fix the fun-
damental Conditions of their association. A Con-
stitution is nothing else than an act of Society.
The social contract, in truth, is not an historical
fact; it is not a fact of the past, it is a fact of the
future. Nations can not appeal to a primitive
contract; but they aspire to a sort of ideal con-
tract, which should establish, in some sort, the
conditions of the reciprocal action of men toward
one another, and of the Sovereign toward his sub-
jects. What are the laws, if not the special pro-
visions of these contracts? Why is it desired
that the laws should be passed by the representa-
tives of society, if it is not because it is only the
mandatories of society who can contract for so-
ciety? — J. J. Rousseau has been reproached, not
without reason, for his doctrine of the omnipo-
tence of the people. But this doctrine is inde-
pendent of the theory of the social contract.
Whatever origin may be attributed to public
power, whether divine right, patriarchy, conquest,
or popular consent, we may always suppose it
absolute. Now, the doctrine of the absolute power
of the state was universal before J. J. Rousseau.
He borrowed it from tradition. Only he placed
the people in the place of the prince; that is all
the difference. Quºdguid principº placuit legis ha-
bet vigorem. Such was the doctrine of the juris-
consults. Teplace princip; by populo, and you
have the democratic thesis. Doubtless, it is no
truer under this form; but if Rousseau's claim to
the expansion which he gave to the right of sov-
ereignty may be contested, that is no reason to
deny this great truth, that Society rests upon an
express or tacit contract of all its members. —
By the side of Montesquieu and Rousseau, we
should, if space allowed, show the part which the
economic schools of the eighteenth century, the
physiocratic school in France, and that of Adam
Smith in England, had in the progress of political
ideas. The economists have, above all, contrib-
uted to spread the principles of natural law; and
although many among them, as Quesnay and Mer-
cier de la Rivière, were partisans of absolute power,
yet they excepted from the exercise of that power
the natural rights of citizens, and, above all, the
right of property. Hence, although they were
not advocates of political liberty, they accustomed
minds to free a certain number of objects from
the frequently tyrannical protection of the govern-
ment. Their principle, Laissez faire and laissez
passer, which was applied only to commerce and
to industry, was soon to be applied to conscience
and to thought. Turgot was, together with Wol-
taire and Montesquieu, the most serious defender
of toleration. I may add, that from Turgot and
Condorcet dates one of the greatest and most
powerful ideas of modern society, the idea of
the perfectibility of the race and of progress.
This idea, perceived by Pascal and by Bacon, in
its relation to the sciences, is in some sort the
last word of the eighteenth century; it is the word
of the French revolution. — During the revolu-
tion the political schools gave place to parties,
theories to action, and struggles of thought
to struggles in the tribune and of the scaffold.
Science, without doubt, has profited by the
French revolution, not while it lasted, but after
it. — W. Contemporaneous Period. The political
schools of the nineteenth century may be reduced
to four principal Ones: 1, the aristocratic and
royalist school; 2, the constitutional and liberal
school; 3, the democratic school; 4, the social-
ist school. — 1. The royalist school defends in
general the old régime as opposed to the new,
monarchical and aristocratic institutions as op-
posed to liberal and popular institutions. But,
within these limits, what a variety of opinions!
What a distance, for instance, between de Bon-
ald and Chateaubriand; between the Législation,
primitif and the Monarchie Selon la Charte / The
former will have nothing but the political so-
ciety of the old régime: to him it is absolute
society. The unlimited power of one alone, sup-
ported by two privileged orders, the one charged
with the defense, the other with the education:
of society: such was his ideal of the social and
political order. Chateaubriand, on the contrary,
while deploring the revolution, and demanding
the re-establishment of entailment, and the res-
titution of their property to the clergy, was, at
the same time, an impassioned partisan of English
institutions, a defender of the initiative of Parlia-
ment, of the liberty of the press, of the responsi-
bility of ministers, and counseled the aristocracy
of his country to make use of new institutions, to
take place and rank in those institutions, instead
of arming itself against them, and seeking to re-
cover possession of its privileges under the shadow
of restored despotism.–2. From Chateaubriand
to Royer-Collard, the transition appears scarcely
perceptible; the one is the most liberal of royal-
ists, the other the most royalist of liberals. Yet
we enter here into a new world, into the world of
the French revolution, represented at first by the
constitutional school. This school is divided in-
to many branches, the doctrinarian School, the
liberal school, the economic school, bound to-
gether by common doctrines, but at the same time
separated by sufficiently important shades of
266
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
difference. The first of these schools was repre-
sented by Royer-Collard, the Duc de Broglie and
Guizot; the second by Benjamin Constant; and
the third by Comte and Dunoyer. What dis-
tinguishes the doctrinarians from the pure royal-
ists is, that they accept without reserve the civil
order resulting from the French revolution, that
is to say, the equality of partition and the secu-
larization of the state. They oppose the law of
the right of primogeniture and the law of sacri-
lege. Besides, they are in favor of political
liberty, the liberty of the press and the control
of the government by assemblies. But if they
accept democracy in the civil order, and if they
give it a certain share in the political order,
they are no less alarmed at its progress; they
detest it in its violent form, the revolutionary
form ; they even doubt it when regulated and
modified in the government of the state. To
the dogma of the sovereignty of the people, which,
according to them, would only substitute one
tyranny for another, they opposed the doctrine of
the sovereignty of reason. They thought mon-
archy necessary to restrain democracy and to pre-
serve liberty itself. Above all, they wished to
assure a certain preponderance to the distin-
guished classes, to what they called the superiori-
ties, and to give to the government of democracy
more sequence, more unity, more foresight, more
of the spirit of justice, and more of the true liberal
spirit; the love of liberty being incompatible with
the lack of intelligence. Such were the ideas of
the doctrinarian school; those of liberalism did
not differ essentially from them. The liberal
school admitted, with the doctrinarian school, the
necessity of royalty, the division of the legislative
body into two chambers, and the limitation of the
electoral body. But it made the part of royalty
much less; it was opposed to the hereditary char-
acter of the upper chamber, and demanded the
progressive extension of the electoral right. These
differences concealed a capital dissent; the doc-
trinarians considered the mixed government, com-
posed of monarchy, aristocracy and democracy,
as the absolute ideal; they saw in such a govern-
ment a definitive and good régime. The liberals,
on the contrary, seemed to consider that régime
as a preliminary step to something else. To the
former, royalty and aristocracy were necessary
elements of all society; to the latter, they were
only useful moderators, whose importance was
decreasing every day, and whose authority it was
necessary to reduce more and more. Of these
two schools, the former, therefore, allied itself to
the royalist and aristocratic school, and the latter
to the democratic school. One of the important
branches of liberalism was the school of the econ-
omists. The economists thought that the political
institutions of a people have doubtless great im-
portance; they were very much attached to a
system of constitutional guarantees, but they add-
ed that institutions are means, not ends; that the
principal thing is not, who shall govern, but, how
he shall govern. They thought that the principal
end of governments is to assure the well-being
of the people. Only they thought that govern-
ments take a wrong course to assure that well-
being. For governments believed it was by regu-
lation, protection, authorization, that they could
favor the progress of industry and intelligence.
But this is only to substitute for the old yoke of
the corporations, a new yoke, that of the state, a
vast, abstract, impersonal, irresponsible unity,
which has inherited all the powers of absolute
monarchy. The economists are the first among
the partisans of the new Society, who discussed.
this idea of the state, and who have opposed indi-
vidual right to collective right. Later, when it.
was necessary to combat socialism, recourse was.
had to their arguments. But, in the beginning,
they were almost alone in battling against the
prestige exercised over minds by the vague and
obscure notion of the state, which was no less.
dear to the democrats than to the partisans of
absolute power. —3. The democratic school has
had two phases. In the first, it was only the last.
echo of the expiring revolution: it was the school
of the ideologists, represented by de Tracy and
Daunou. This school was allied not to '93, but,
to '95, and remained faithful to the constitution
of the year III. A divided executive power,
suffrage of two degrees, a conservative Senate (an
element borrowed from the constitution of the year
VIII.): such were the principal characteristics of
the political system of Destutt de Tracy, in his
Commentaère sur l'esprit des lois. In this book we
see the democratic school freeing itself little by
little from the yoke of Rousseau, and setting up
in opposition to the old republics, which it was
commencing to consider semi-barbarous, Societies,
our modern laboring, commercial and industrial
societies, which have need of order and of liberty,
and not of sumptuary laws. At the restoration
the ideologic school was merged in the liberal
school, as we may perceive by the too little
known work of Daunou upon “individual guar-
anties,” a work whose principles are entirely in
accordance with those at that time maintained
by Charles Comte and Charles Dunoyer in the
Cemseur Européen. There are few things in
common between the school of ideologists and
the democratic school, the issue of the restora-
tion. The first was radically hostile to the com-
mittee of public safety and to the régime of ‘93.
The second seems to be connected by a Subter,
ranean filiation with Jacobinism. Its principal
passion was to rehabilitate the men and the acts
of the reign of terror and of the convention.
It displayed in this respect an incredible stub-
bornness, without suspecting the injury it thus
did to its own ideas. Yet it was not entirely sub-
jugated by these blind and extravagant passions,
and the intelligent minds who controlled it had
other views. In general, it was less a School than
a party. It was more given to fighting than to
thinking. Armand Carrel, its most celebrated
name, was a great journalist, but not a publicist.
Very strong and very energetic in his polemics,
POLITICAL SCIENCE.
267
he was weak in his theory. But be it said in his
honor, that he never sacrificed liberty to democ-
racy, as may be seen from his vigorous polemic
against the “Tribune,” an ultra revolutionary
journal, edited at that time by Armand Marrast.
Another eminent man, a greater writer and a more
powerful thinker than Carrel, brought to the aid
of the democracy about the same time his stirring
eloquence, his bitter denunciation and ardent
imagination; but he did not supply democracy
with an idea. It would be impossible to discover
a political view of any originality in the Paroles
d’uº Croyant, in the Lèvré du peuple, or in the
Esclaive moderne. The only ideas which have any
weight in these writings are borrowed from the
Socialist schools, richer in thinkers than the dem-
Ocratic school. But not to have the appearance of
Seeking to depreciate a great mind, I hasten to
add that Lamennais should be studied not only
in his democratic writings. There is a political
question which he has touched with penetration
and depth, and on which he has left his mark; I
mean the relations of church and state; it is by that
and by the journal L'Avenºr that Lamennais has a
right to an important place in the history of the
political ideas of the nineteenth century. — 4. As
for the socialist school, it has passed through
many curious phases, difficult to describe with pre-
cision. The first period of socialism was what
I shall call the industrial period. It was the time
of the first writings of Saint-Simon. In this first
period the socialist school was only an offshoot
of the economist school. Saint-Simon appealed
to the authority of Adam Smith and of J. B. Say,
and gave himself out as their disciple. His idea
was that the first class in the state was the indus-
trial class, and that the government belonged to
it. Some attacks had already been made on pro-
prietors, stockholders, idlers, but not on property
itself. As for capital, it was not only spared, it
was glorified. The first dream of the Saint-Simo-
nian was a plutocracy. But Saint-Simon died;
his disciples developed or confused his ideas.
Fourierism succeeded him. Fourierism and Ica-
rianism were propagated. This was the second
period, the utopian period. The idea which
ruled in this second period was this: society
was given over to anarchy, it needed to be or-
ganized. The idea of organization took hold of
all minds. Each presented his plan, his dream,
and demanded that the state should furnish
him with the capital necessary to make social
experiments, or to make them itself at its own ex-
pense. Despite these dreams the socialist school
appeared harmless, because it confined itself to
speculative constructions, and remained more or
less aloof from political parties. But there came
a time when the democratic school and the
socialist school joined hands, recognized each
other as sisters, and embraced. This encoun-
ter and this alliance were one of the gravest events
of the century. Separated from each other, the
school of social revolution and the school of polit-
ical revolution offered only a mediocre danger to
the partisans of a regulated liberalism. United,
and associating together their passions and their
hopes, they might overthrow everything. How-
ever this may be, the third period of socialism
was the revolutionary and democratic period.
The idea which ruled in this third period was:
'89 was the revolution of the bourgeoisie against
the nobility; to-day it is necessary for the people
to make a revolution against the bourgeoisie.
This idea, so simple and so logical, which con-
nected the cause of socialism with that of the
revolution, which went straight to a precise end,
and boldly attacked property and capital, is due,
above all, to Louis Blanc and Proudhon. But
arrived at this point, socialism took two separate,
and even absolutely contrary, routes. According
to some, this revolution must terminate in a new
Organization of Society, under the empire of a
popular, energetic and concentrated government.
According to others, government must only serve
to produce the revolution, to destroy the tyranny
of capital, as Richelieu destroyed the tyranny of
the nobility. But this end once accomplished,
the government must disappear in its turn, as be-
ing the last of the privileged bodies. Hence
democratic socialism was divided into two
branches: communist Socialism and anarchical so-
cialism. — Such are the principal political schools
of the century? But by the side of and outside
these schools, some free and enlightened minds,
not wishing to connect themselves with any of
them, cultivated political science in an abstract
and general manner, and followed the traditions
of the great theorizers, whose ideas we have re-
lated. Such is the rôle of de Tocqueville, whose
celebrity has been gradually increasing, and whose
importance has been more and more appreciated,
since facts have confirmed many of his gravest
predictions. What can not be doubted, is that
his Démocratie em. Amérique must be considered
as one of the finest monuments of political phi-
losophy. — The point of departure of the studies
of de Tocqueville seems to have been these cele-
brated words of de Serres: La democrate coule d.
pleins bords. He thought that the democratic rev-
olution was inevitable, or rather, that it was ac-
complished; and instead of reasoning a priori.
upon the justice or injustice of this great fact, he
thought that it was better to observe it; and leav-
ing to others the task of praising or blaming it,
he restricted himself to getting acquainted with
and understanding it; in a word, considered de-
mocracy as an object, not of demonstration, but
of observation. This was an entirely new view.
Most publicists had written for and against de-
mocracy systematic and abstract books; but no
one, since Aristotle, had made it the object of
attentive observation. Montesquieu himself, the
greatest political observer of modern times, did
not understand democracy; he saw it only as it.
existed in antiquity, and, almost like Mably and
Rousseau, he had not the least presentiment of
modern democracy, as it issued from the Ameri-
can revolution or from the French revolution.
268
POLITICS.
—What results did de Tocqueville reach?
in a few words, is about the balance sheet which
he furnishes of the good and evil in democracy:
The principal advantages in the democratic sys-
tem are the development of well-being, the spread-
ing of intelligence, the progress of sociability,
the sympathy for human misery, and, finally, a
very great display of activity and energy. In a
word, in democracies, except at certain critical
moments, men are generally more enlightened
and happy. But these advantages are counterbal-
anced by disadvantages. The principal disadvan-
tages are the instability of the laws, the inferiority
of merit in those who govern, the abuse of uni-
formity, the excess of the love of well-being, and
finally, and above all, the tendency to tyranny.
It is principally this last characteristic which de
Tocqueville has developed. He is one of those
who have insisted most on the tyranny of demo-
cratic majorities; he has also shown the confusion
which attaches to the two fundamental ideas of
democracy, equality and liberty; he has demon-
strated that these two things are not always in
direct proportion to each other, that the progress
of equality is not always the progress of liberty.
Finally, he has strongly pronounced against cen-
tralization; and he was one of the first, while
he entirely recognized the necessity of society’s
advancing in democratic ways, to assert the rights
of individual action and to call attention to the
encroaching tendencies of popular sovereignties,
whether they are exercised under the republican
or monarchical form. — It is principally this last
problem which science has applied itself to study
and to solve in recent times. The events of 1848
in France, socialism, the energetic concentration
of the French government in 1852, have led minds
to be seriously preoccupied with the relations of
the individual to the state. We have seen that
the question of the right of sovereignty is not all
of the question of politics, but that it is necessary
to know, besides, within what limits sovereignty
should be exercised, and what are the true func-
tions of the state. This question has given rise to
very fine dissertations. Mill, in England, although
a radical, was chiefly preoccupied, in his excel-
lent work on “Representative Government,” with
the means of counterbalancing the omnipotence
of the unenlightened classes, and of giving to the
superior classes a share of influence commensu-
rate with their intelligence. In his book on
“Liberty,” he has vindicated to its fullest extent
the principle of free thought. At the same time,
in the “Principles of Political Economy,” he re-
nounces the individualist rigorism of the economic
school, and admits the principle of education by
the state. In France individualism has had for
an Original, energetic and impassioned defender,
the highly intellectual Frédéric Bastiat; and in
different degrees individualism is the spirit which
is manifested in the new political school, that of
Jules Simon, Laboulaye, Lanfrey, Prévost-Para-
dol, most of the economists, etc. On the other
hand, it must be acknowledged that the principle
This,
day.
of centralization and of the state has found an
eminent apologist in Dupont-White, who, faith-
ful to the traditions of the democratic school,
maintains the predominance of the state over the
individual, and separates the principle of political
liberty, to which he is most strongly attached,
from the principle of laïssé2 faºré and laissez pas-
ser, which, from the writings of economists, has
passed into those of publicists. Such are the ques-
tions which political science is discussing in our
- - PAUL JANET.
POLITICS, Nature and Character of. I.
Politics as the Art of the State and as a Science of
the State. The conscious life of the state, the
guidance of the state and the influencing of the
affairs of the state, that is, conscious political
practice, is what we call politics. Men who by
their office or their calling take a prominent part
in this practice and in the influencing of the af-
fairs of the state, as for instance, government offi-
cials, representatives in legislative assemblies,
journalists, etc., we may designate as political
men. The honorable and dignified name of states-
man is given only to those rare men who distin-
guish themselves as guides and leaders among
politicians. The science of this political practice
we also characterize as politics. The representa-
tives of politics as a science, may be called politi-
cal scientists and political philosophers. — Politics
as political practice, and politics, as the doctrine
or science of the state, stand in a natural recipro-
cal relation to each other. In the beginning, and
in the lower stages of the development of nations,
the former precedes the latter ; and the latter fol-
lows in the wake of the former timidly and late.
But, in proportion as the political spirit awakens
in a nation, and becomes self-conscious, the im-
portance of politics as the Science of the state iri-
creases also ; it begins to keep pace with the
progress of the practical art of the state or political
practice. At times it outruns its more powerful
companion, and guides the tendencies and move-
ments of the latter, by illuminating with its torch
some new, untrodden road.— Aristotle came only
after the life of the great Hellenic republics was
closed; but, as a teacher, he preceded Alexander.
Cicero wrote his scientific political works at the
close of the Roman republic, but before Caesar and
Augustus had appeared upon the scene. Machia-
velli had the pattern of the Italian princes of the
renaissance before his eyes; he wrote after the
time of Louis XI. of France, but became the
teacher of Louis XIV. and of Napoleon III:
Rousseau was the prophet of the French revolu-
tion. Frederick the Great of Prussia and Alexan-
der Hamilton were contemporaneously the found-
ers of a new doctrine of the state, and of a new
political practice, Montesquieu appeared after
the English revolution, and after the full devel-
opment of constitutional monarchy in England,
which he recommended to the rest of continental
Europe, and became the teacher of the people of
the United States and of the French restoration. —
POLITICS.
269
The two things which we designate by one and
the same term, politics, are radically different. —
1. Politics, as the art of the state, has certain
definite external aims, which differ according to
the wants of the moment. It seeks to reach a
certain external result, for instance, to establish
better institutions for the people or for Society, to
overcome an enemy, to secure or extend the pow-
er of the state, etc. Political practice manifests
itself in deeds, and success is the aim and the test
of the art of the state. A successful policy con-
stitutes the fame of the statesman; and an unsuc-
cessful policy is the sign of a defective and fre-
quently of a bad and unfit policy. On the other
hand, politics, as the Science of the state, does not
pursue any external aim, and is not estimated by
external success. It has no aim but the knowledge
of truth. Its glory consists in the destruction of
an error, in the discovery of a permanent and
fruitful law, in the clear exposition of a correct
and opportune rule for guidance. – 2. As the
aims of the art of the state and of the science of
the state are different, so also are the means they
employ. It is not enough for the statesman that
he thinks correctly. He wishes, also, to realize
his thoughts in deeds, and to this end he requires
power. He must overcome or evade the obstacles
that oppose him, and he requires the actual trans-
formation of the stubborn matter which he has to
give shape to. He must strain the authority of
the state, which, in case of need, can enforce a
following; or he must invoke the Support of pub-
lic opinion. According to circumstances, he must
have money, or even troops, at his disposal. —
Politics as a science can dispense with all these
external means of power. It does not trust in
violence, but in logic. When it observes care-
fully and thinks correctly, it is certain of its prog-
ress, and does not need the authority of the law,
nor the applause of the multitude. With all the
treasures of the land at one's command, it would
be as impossible to lift an error into a truth, as,
with the aid of all the armed power of the state,
to lower a truth into an error. — 3. Politics, as
political practice, can not dispense with external
struggles if it will accomplish anything. The
statesman must take into account both the hos-
tile and friendly passions. He is very frequently
compelled to take some side. He can not avoid
the excitement which accompanies the struggle
with frequently bitter foes. He must preserve
his courage in the midst of danger, his presence
of mind in the hour of battle, and his will power
in action. Without a manly character, there can
be no genuine statesman. The political scientist,
on the contrary, examines the object of his inves-
tigation in peace. He can consider that object
from different points of view, without prejudice
or partiality, undisturbed by the noises of war of
opponents. He enjoys that perfect peace of mind
which belongs to scientific thought, and draws
his conclusions dispassionately. —4. Even the
statesman's way of thinking is different from that
of the political scientist. The statesman is ex-
cited to action by the wants of the particular case,
and when he weighs principles he does so on the
Supposition of their serviceableness and applica-
bility in the case he has to deal with. Very fre-
quently, if he wishes to attain his purpose, he is
compelled to bend the straight lines of principles
Out of shape, and, at the sacrifice of strictness
of principle, to effect compromises even with op-
posing principles and party tendencies. The re-
sult of his thoughts is conditioned by the success
which he is striving to achieve. — The political
Scientist who only labors for the acquisition of
knowledge, seeks to develop principles in their
pure form, and may proceed logically and undis-
turbed. He is not compelled to make any com-
promises. – The psychology of the statesman is
mainly penetration in judging and making use of
actual men; that of the political philosopher is
chiefly insight into the general laws of human
nature. — The men who are at the same time re-
nowned as statesmen and political philosophers
are rather few. The two greatest political philos-
ophers of Hellenic antiquity, Aristotle and Plato,
were but poorly qualified for political practice, or
practical statesmanship. There are many notable
diplomates, generals and ministers, who have dis-
tinguished themselves as statesmen, but who have
achieved nothing for the science of the state.
Nevertheless, the greatest statesmen of history
were, if not political philosophers or political
Savants, at least political thinkers of a high order;
for instance, Pericles, Alexander the Great, Julius
Caesar, Charlemagne, Frederick the Great, Wash-
ington, Hamilton, and Napoleon I. — In our own
times, every practical politician is compelled more
deeply to reflect on the ideas that at present en-
lighten and move the nations, and to render to
himself a full account of the principles which
determine his own action. In his practical call-
ing, therefore, he can not dispense with scientific
labor. On the other hand, the science of the
State, in order to be applicable in actual life, must
understand the conditions of the real life of the
state, and correctly appreciate its interests. In
this manner practical statesmanship and the sci-
ence of the state reach each other a helping hand,
and each may look to the other for support. —
There certainly is in some men a natural talent
for politics, that may be developed through prac-
tice alone, without the aid of science, as there have
at all times been great captains and leaders in war
who never frequented a military school, but de-
veloped their talent on the field of battle. Yet,
with equal natural talents, and under equal cir-
cumstances in all else, the scientifically trained
politician will be greatly superior to the rude
practitioner. In our times the combination of
practical statesmanship and political science has
become indispensable to politicians, and if not
absolutely necessary, it is at least highly useful to
the political scientist. The science of the state
not only enlightens political practice or practical
politics, but purifies and ennobles it. (Compare de
Parieu, Principes de la Science politigue, Paris,
27()
POLITICS.
1870, p. 9.) But then, political practice quickens
the glance of the political Scientist, and protects
him from a childish trifling with the imaginings
of empty speculation. — In the search after truth
each of the different sciences has its own method,
and frequently calls into activity different mental
powers, and Some One mental power more than it
does the others. Thus, natural scientific thought
depends chiefly on the exact observation of facts
perceptible by the senses, and usually from visible
effects infers the invisible cause. Its method is
induction, and its proofs are mostly borrowed
from analogy. The speculative philosopher de-
nies the sensually perceptible phenomenon, and
endeavors to discover or reach the infinite idea,
the absolute, through the self-conscious human
mind. Beginning here, he then draws his con-
clusions by the way of logical deduction. Legal
thought is generally the subordination of a con-
Crete fact under a general legal principle. Its
method is, in the first place, judgment by means
of subsumption, and the inference from the gen-
eral legal principle to the consequence of its vio-
lation: restitution or compensation or punishment.
Political thought is directed particularly to organic
distinction, to the estimation of forces, the calcu-
lation of means, the psychological study and influ-
encing of men, and, lastly, to the development and
improvement of human affairs in conformity to na-
ture. —II. The Relation of Politics to Morals. Mach-
iavelli was the first to separate politics from morals,
and to proclaim political practice independent of
moral prescriptions. The adaptability of the means
to the ends of the state was, with Machiavelli, the
only allowable measure or criterion in politics.
To him it was a matter of indifference whether
the statesman acted morally or immorally. Mach-
iavelli only demanded of him that his action
should be useful to the state. When a crime is
of advantage to the state, he recommends crime;
when noble-mindedness becomes injurious to the
state, he condemns it. He expressly remarks, that
the appearance of virtue is frequently more useful
to the prince than real virtue, and, when it is so,
he gives the former the preference over the latter.
Since his time the name of Machiavellism in pol-
itics has been given to that kind of immoral, con-
scienceless, though certainly bold, politics, which
is profitable to the state, or only to the head of the
state. Frederick the Great, in his “Anti-Mach-
iavel,” when a young man, gave vent, in eloquent
language, to his indignation at this doctrine.
When king, however, he too distinguished between
politics and morals, and made the good of the
state the supreme law in all political action. But
he was still full of the conviction that politics was
intrinsically and indissolubly connected with the
moral government of the world, and that it was
exceedingly injurious to separate the one from the
other. — In the scientific distinction between poli-
tics and morals, we recognize a great and lasting
progress, a distinction which alone has rendered
possible an independent science of politics. To
think, in a political sense, is to think from the
point of view of the state; to judge morally is to
consider human actions from the point of view of
the moral order of the universe, conformably to
the Category, “good and bad.” But Machiavelli,
Who Certainly can not be denied the credit of this
distinction, by his reckless exaggeration of it,
even to the point of complete separation of poli-
tics from morals, weakened the power of the good
among men, greatly stimulated the ambition of
princes, and thoroughly corrupted political prac-
tice. We accordingly hold firmly to the rela-
tive independence of political science, but we at
the same time recognize that political practice
must not place itself in contradiction with the
laws of the moral order of the world. — We do
not speak here of the moral law, which religious
revelation proclaims as the command of the Deity.
Such a moral law is religion, which influences
only believers in it. We here allude rather to the
moral law derived from human nature, and under-
stood by human reason, as the intrinsically well-
grounded ordering of all human life. It is un-
thinkable that politics, as the rule of external life
in common of man in the state, can be absolutely
separated from, and completely independent of,
the moral law, considered as the rule of proper
human conduct in general. It is just as unthink-
able, as in the economy of the state it is impossi-
ble, to ignore the laws of physics or mathematics.
As politics, moreover, should advance the pros-
perity of society, and endeavor to promote the
improvement of the community, the determination
of these tasks can not safely be undertaken with-
out, at the same time, paying due regard to the
moral duties of human life in general, and to the
destinies of humanity, pointed out by the moral
law. Thus, not the complete separation of poli-
tics and morals, still less the hostile opposition of
the two, but the preservation of the intimate re-
lationship between them, is the correct view in
this matter. Both in the determination of political
ends and aims, and in the choice of political means,
moral considerations must not be lost sight of. —
1. Ends and Aºms. The ends and aims of politics
'may, indeed, be morally indifferent, but they should
not be immoral. Many political reforms are effected
from juridico-technical, or from military or po-
litico-economical motives; thus, public monuments
Owe their form to the enthusiasm of the artist for
the beautiful. When a new mode of procedure
is introduced, or when the army is organized and
exercised; when a new system of duties is adopted,
or a new style of architecture employed: in all
cases of this kind, moral considerations have no
share, or only a very subordinate one. But, since
statesmen are human beings, they should not
exempt themselves from the general duties of
men, and in their political calling they should not
act contrary to the moral destiny of mankind;
that is, they should not pursue political ends
which morality condemns. – This truth was by
no means hidden from the nations of antiquity.
It was emphatically proclaimed in the Sacred books
of the Hindoos, Jews and Chinese, and greatly
POLITICS.
271
strengthened by their religious reverence for the
authority of God or of the gods. But ancient
practice was, notwithstanding, exceedingly lax in
this respect. The ambition of nations, and the sel-
fishness of rulers helped them, for the most part, to
an easy settlement with conscience. The extension
of power and the exploitation of subjects were but
seldom moderated or limited by moral consider-
ations. – In the politics of the last centuries, like-
wise, the moral criterion was but seldom applied.
The law of morals forbids man to exploit his fel-
low-man, as the mere object of his pleasure and
his rule, and requires every one to honor his fel-
low-man as a being of the same species endowed
with reason. Yet how frequently has the capri-
cious authority of rulers and their favorites been
immoderately extended, and improperly used,
contrary to this moral law, to indulge the evil in-
climations of the human heart. But by degrees
public opinion develops into a public conscience,
and more clearly enunciates its admonitions and
warnings, and bestows praise or blame according
as it perceives a contradiction or harmony between
political efids and the moral duties of life. — The
liberation of an oppressed nation from a foreign
yoke, the insurance of peace, the spread and im-
provement of civilization, the education of citi-
zens to freedom, the ennobling of culture, and
the encouragement of humane institutions, are
all, at the same time, moral and political duties of
life, and honored as such. Yet sophists here find
a convenient field. Only too easily do they suc-
ceed in cloaking selfish passions in the mantle of
moral endeavor, by representing tyranny as order,
conquest as the spread of civilization, and revolt
against political authority as freedom.—2. Means.
It is much more difficult to determine the relation
of moral demands to the means of politics. Mor-
alists are inclined to apply the same rule to political
means that we have here recognized as applicable
to political ends. They grant that means morally
indifferent may be employed in political practice,
but they do not allow that morally impure means
should at any time be used. Moral feeling and
logical consistency seem to declare this to be
wholly incontestable. — And yet a glance at his-
tory, or into the practical political life of the pres-
ent time, shows that there are great difficulties in
thc way of the strict application of this rule, and
that, as a matter of fact, such application is
scarcely possible. We can not ignore this: that
it is belter for the state that it should be saved
from some great danger by an energetic man, led
by an inordinate love of power, than weakened
by a timid but personally virtuous ruler. Nor
can we ignore that it is of greater advantage to
national well-being when aroused vanity helps
build works of common utility, than when pious
humility does nothing. Many politicians have,
therefore, entirely denied the applicability of the
above-mentioned rule to political means, and
maintained that the principle, “The end sanctifies
the means,” may be wrong in private morals, but
Can not be dispensed with as a political maxim.
But a closer examination at once reveals how very
dangerous this opinion is to the whole moral con-
dition of things. When the state excuses the
immorality of the political means employed, by
the morality of the end to be attained, what pre-
vents individuals from imitating the example of
the state? There is a natural inclination in men,
when they commit a wrong, to excuse it to them-
selves and to others, by the allegation that it was
a means to a good end. If the maxim that “the
end justifies the means” thus became general, the
authority of the moral law would be completely
paralyzed, and the wild chase of sinful desires
after satisfaction would not be stopped by any
Cunning allusion to laudable aims, but coutinued
with increased ardor. The harmony of the moral
order of the world would be destroyed if the open
rupture between moral ends and immoral means
was recognized, and if the moral law only re-
tained a certain authority in respect of the ends,
but was entirely powerless as to the choice of the
means to be employed in politics. - It is not easy
to find an exit from this labyrinth. The incon-
siderate demands of moralists seem altogether im-
practicable, while the opinion of political Sophists
is ruinous to the moral order. We can gain Safe
ground only after we shall have more closely ex-
amined the nature of the state, and more deeply
investigated the relation of evil to the moral Order
of the world. — 1. The state, as a man-like, Com-
posite person, produced by the union of men, is
not merely a civil person, but a moral civil per-
son. As the moral law embraces all mankind,
and is valid as to all, the state can neither release
itself from its moral duties to humanity, to other
nations, to its subjects, to those who live under
its protection, but should heed those duties and
fulfill them. The duties of the state bind the
representatives of the power of the state and the
organs of the authority of the state, as well as
the ruled and parties. Patriotism, fidelity, jus-
tice, bravery, the diligent and careful fulfillment
of official duty, are especially the virtues of po-
litical life. Civilization as it advances develops
this sense of moral duty, and enhances its de-
mands. – The moral law does not limit itself to
political aims. It is binding on the whole state,
in all its doings, and in all its life. —2. But
the state is the ordering of the external life of
men in common. The moral demands addressed
to the politician lie in a direction and have a Cri-
torion different from the moral demands fbat re-
ligion makes on men. The latter are addressed
to the inner life of the soul, the former to the
external organization of the community, of the
people, using the word people in its political
sense. The saint may consider suffering as the
highest perfection; but the statesman's duty is
action. The preponderantly religious man may
seclude himself from the world, and like the
hermit withdraw into his innermost soul. The
political man must remain in human Society,
and through men influence other men. The
church may give the conscience of the individual
272
POLITICS.
the highest commands of ideal perfection, as the
duty of his life; the state must moderate its re-
quirements with a due regard for the actual ca-
pacity and deficiencies of the many. Religion
lifts its expectations even to the height of divine
perfection; the state can not strain its coercive
laws beyond what the average nature of the ma-
jority can bear. The priest may tell the believer
how and what he should be; the statesman must
take men as they are. — In judging political con-
duct, therefore, we must apply only the relative
standard of moral demands which corresponds
with the stage of moral culture that a nation or a
Society has, for the time being, attained, so far as
that culture is represented in its better average
constituent parts. This standard is the standard
of the good citizen and of the dutiful official, as
both are at the time understood by the people. —
When we consult history, it affords us some sat-
isfaction to observe that humanity, in this respect,
has incontestably made notable progress. From
age to age moral demands have risen, and the
moral standard or criterion has become more re-
fined. The ancient Greeks and Romans considered
almost everything permissible against an enemy
with which the state was engaged in war. They
felt no moral repugnance to kill defenseless foes,
to sell the wives and children of the conquered, as
well, as the conquered themselves, as slaves; to
sack towns and burn villages. If a general of the
present day were to treat his conquered enemy in
such a brutal and cruel manner as only too often
was done by even the best warriors of antiquity, as
was done by the amiable Alexander the Great,
and the magnanimous Julius Caesar, such a man
would be shunned as a maniac, or outlawed as a
human monster from the civilized world. —In like
manner the Christian nations of the middle ages
looked upon every form of cruelty to unbelievers
and heretics as perfectly just and permissible.
The Roman popes, whom Christendom revered
as the highest moral authority, repeatedly ap-
proved the horrible maxim, that no one was bound
to keep faith with unbelievers. Even the sanctity
of the oath, when it came in contact with the glow-
ing religious fanaticism of the Roman priest, dis-
appeared in Smoke. (Instances by Laurent, Etudes
sur l'histoire de l’humanité, ix., 142, x., 338.) The
civilized world of the present day unanimously
condemns such immorality. Our manly feelings
revolt at the thought that formerly the ambassa-
dors of European powers in Stambul were obliged
to throw themselves on the ground before the
Turkish Sultan. We consider the incense of base
flattery which, at the close of the seventeenth
century and beginning of the eighteenth, was of.
fered to Louis XIV. even by the most renowned
writers of that time, both contemptible and un-
worthy of human beings. Even in the eighteenth
century, in the English parliament, corruption
was so much at home, and general to such a de-
gree, that an English minister, to obtain a major-
ity, could not avoid bribing individual members
of parliament with money and other gifts. It did
no injury to the honorable name of the renowned
statesman, Pitt, that he effected the dissolution of
the Irish parliament and the union of Ireland
with Great Britain by bribery. A minister who
should do the same thing to-day would be lost, in
the opinion of the public. — In the diplomatic in-
tercourse of the eighteenth century, equivocation
and intentional deception were still so much in
Vogue that even a sincere and truthful man was
Occasionally compelled to wear a mask, just as a
merchant, obliged to do business with rogues, can
scarcely avoid dissimulation. And even now false-
hood and deception are not unheard of in inter-
national intercourse. But sińcerity and truthful-
ness dare, at least, openly engage in war against
this kind of immorality. — 3. If we can not re-
quire political leaders to pursue a course above
the understanding, pliancy and tractableness of
the average man with whom they have to deal,
we may at least require that they should not re-
main below the moral height of the average cult-
ure of their time and nation; but that here also
they should remain the guides and leagers of the
many. Precisely because they are léaders, and
shine forth as models to those who stand lower
than they, or follow behind them, the moral de-
mands that are made on them are greater. A
virtuous prince produces an elevating and enno-
bling effect on the society which looks up to him,
while a vicious ruler lowers even the moral con-
dition of his subjects. – Humanity’s moral duty
is the fulfillment of its destiny. When men har-
moniously develop their faculties, they advance
morally. Nations and their leaders are responsible
to humanity if they do not take part in this prog-
ress. They owe it to humanity to take such a part.
— 4. The mere turning to account of immoral
acts committed by others, by the statesman for
the good of the state, is permissible to the states-
man, in so far as such acts appear a happy accident
for his purposes. But when the statesman himself
causes or favors such acts he becomes a party to
them, and, as such, a participant in the responsi-
bility and guilt of their immorality.—When King
Philip II. of Spain delegated murderers to kill
Queen Elizabeth of England, he became guilty of
a crime, which can be excused neither by the plea
of the good of Spain nor mitigated by the approv-
al of Pope Pius V., given it on religious grounds.
(Laurent, supra, ix., 190, x., 171.) It bears wit-
ness to the still uncertain feeling of the public
opinion of that time, that it extolled the chevalier
Bayard as a hero of rare virtue, because he de-
cidedly rejected the proposal of the duke of Fer.
rara, to kill the pope, although the latter had
conspired against his own life and that of the
duke. (Laurent, supra, x., 390.) The connivance
at crime, allowing it to be committed, by one in
power, whose duty it is to prevent and prosecute
it, should be regarded as a moral offense, even
when not punishable. The mere expression of
the wish to get rid of a dangerous adversary, is
frequently the only thing needed to put a dagger
into the hand of an assassin to kill the obnoxious
POLITICS.
273
person. But, as the general can not be blamed
who takes advantage of the reports of a traitor
concerning the weakness of the enemy's position,
so neither can we blame a prince who avails him-
self of the murder of a pretender to the throne,
which he neither provoked nor favored, for the
purpose of strengthening his own authority. —
5. Private morals and state morals rest on the
same basis of the moral order of the world, and
are pervaded by the same spirit of man’s destiny
and duty in life. They therefore belong together
as twin buds of the same parent tree, and of the
same species. Nevertheless, the instinct of na-
tions has, from time out of mind, ever felt that
there existed a subtle difference between them.
There are, indeed, cases in which the same ac-
tion appears in a different light, and is differently
judged, according as it is performed by a states-
man with patriotic intention, or by a private indi-
vidual from selfish interest. The reprobate prin-
ciple of Machiavellian policy, “The advantage of
the state excuses all the crimes of the statesman,”
is only the caricatured, and therefore blamewor-
thy, expression of a correct idea. There is in fact
such a thing as a reason of state, a raison d'état,
the effect of which on the public conscience and
On the moral judgment is sanctioned by the his-
tory of the world. What is the reason of this dif-
ference? and how is it to be understood?—It seems
to me that this question can be answered only by
first investigating the meaning of evil in the moral
order of the world. Evil appears in an entirely
different light, according as it is considered as the
act of an individual who despises and violates the
moral order of the world, or as it is examined from
a higher point of view, from a point of view over-
looking the aggregate life of humanity. What in
the individually guilty man appears as evil, as
blameworthy and reprobate, in its connection
with the all, shows itself a necessary condition
precedent of the good, and, to that extent, it is
good. What Mephistopheles said of himself, that
he was — .
“ Ein. Theil von jewer Kraft,
Die Stets das Böse will, und stets das Gºute schafft,”
applies in an eminent degree to the case we are dis-
cussing. The highest virtue is attained only in the
struggle with evil inclinations, whether one's own
or those of others. All progress in good is con-
ditioned by the overcoming of evil. As human
error is necessary to the knowledge of the truth,
so is evil in the world of men the necessary stage
preliminary to moral perfection. — Evil has no
permanency in the world. It is always combated
and overcome, and finally conquered. It ceases to
be evilas soon as it has really been conquered. Then
it becomes clear that it has served the development
* An expression of the French president Jeannin, in Laur-
ent, X., p. 344 : “Les princes font bier, guélgue fois des choses
honteuses, qu'on ne peut blåmer, quand elles Sont utiles &
leurs états; car la Jonte étant couverte par le profit, on la
70mme Sagesse,” i. e., “Princes, indeed, sometimes do
Shameful things, which we can not find fault with, when
they are useful to their states; for shame, in the mantle of
profit or advantage, is called wisdom.”
187 VOL. III. — 18
of good. But so far as the aggregate is concerned,
everything depends on this: that evil should be
made subservient to good; that evil should be con-
quered by good, and that it should be, as it were,
the mere background of good. To this extent
we may distinguish between good aims and evil
means, but this distinction is allowable only when
the latter stands in a subordinate relation to the
former, or has been completely conquered by it,
and rendered good. – What is thus true of the
moral order of the world in general, may by an-
alogy be applied to the state. The state also is a
great whole, a world in itself. In the state also it
is possible that what seems evil in a particular
case may become good in its relation to the whole.
The guilt of the individual, which considered
apart is evil, may, when brought into connection
with the progressive life of the whole people,
reveal itself as an advancement of the good, and
hence become good, yet only in as far as the evil in
the individual has really been overcome by the im-
provement of the whole, only when the evil has
really been made subservient to the good. — The
state, as an aggregate being, can as little dispense
with human passions, to promote its progress, as
can the Deity in his government of the world. If
it were possible to extirpate selfishness, ambition,
vanity, love of glory and love of strife from the
hearts of the citizens of a state, the community
would lose immensely in elastic force, and a great
deal less of good and of what is useful to the
common weal would be performed in the world.
The manly virtue of patriotism is never entirely
free from admixture with passions of this kind;
and as the noble metals can become a current coin
only by being alloyed with a baser one, so is the
admixture of patriotism with the passions neces-
sary in practical politics. –Wetherefore must not
claim that the statesman should refuse the Support
of morally impure means. We can not reproach
the ruler who, under certain circumstances, em-
ploys in the public service persons whose moral
worth he may despise, but from whom he expects
great results for the state. We must not blame
the minister who understands how to use the moral
weaknesses of a prince, or the blind zeal of a party,
to carry out a measure of common utility. — But
we must at all times take heed lest the evil, which
must be overcome while it is used, should grow
too powerful. It should never be allowed to rule,
but always be made to serve. Only when this sub-
ordination has been insured, may evil be admit-
ted as a spur to exertion in the way of good. Yet
even in this sense the principle remains a danger-
ous one, and may easily be misused by the Sophist.
Its danger, however, is greatly lessened when this
subservient relation of evil in the individual to the
moral progress of the whole is correctly estimated
and honestly taken into consideration. — Dispro-
portionate means, that is, means the moral injury
of which is greater than the progress of the whole,
which they should serve, are always to be repro-
bated. For this reason the public conscience un-
qualifiedly condemns every open and direct breach
274
POLITICS.
of faith, as for instance, the breach of the con-
ditions of capitulation by a victor; because faith
in one’s word of honor forms the moral cement
which holds together the ordering of the world of
men. The destruction of such faith would so
dangerously shake the general security of the law,
that the injury caused by an open breach of faith
would by far outweigh the profit which the state
might possibly derive from it. On the contrary,
public opinion is but little shocked when it sees
that a treaty injurious to the state has not been
executed. Public opinion distinguishes decidedly
between an illicit breach of faith, and the unsatis-
factory or the hindered fulfillment of a treaty. It
is likewise strongly inclined, even too much so, to
excuse the deceiving of a political adversary as
permissible when profitable to the state, and it ex-
presses its indignant reproach only when the gen-
eral danger of malicious deception assumes the
form of fraud and imposture. Frederick the
Great said of himself, that as a private individual
he would keep his word under all circumstances,
but that as a prince he would sacrifice even his per-
sonal honor to the state, if the existence of the
state required that sacrifice. —No crime excites
both the moral and the legal sense of a people to
greater horror than murder. Public opinion rep-
robates the excuse, often attempted, of political
murder, by the plea that it was committed for the
good of the state. In vain has the authority of
Pope Gregory XIV., who ordered that the hor-
rible Saint Bartholomew massacre should be com-
memorated by a Te Deum, been appealed to; and
in vain has it been attempted to defend the Sep-
tember massacres of the French revolution in
1793, by showing that they secured the liberation
of France from a foreign yoke, and the protec-
tion of republican freedom. The unbiased moral
judgment of the modern world revolts at the re-
cital of those horrors. The malevolent, premedi-
tated attack on a human life seems to us such a
dangerous and serious evil and injustice, that
murder should never be employed as a means to a
political end.—But even this rule is not without ex-
ception. There are undoubtedly political murders
in history concerning which public opinion, even
in the case of sensible, thinking and moral men,
begins to waver and be divided; and there are
even a few murders which have been uncondi-
tionally approved by good men. It is not merely
morally frivolous men who think like Brutus
about the murder of Caesar, and who excuse the
murder of the Russian emperor, Paul I., as a po-
litical necessity. The act of Judith, who killed
Holofernes, and that of Charlotte Corday, who
killed Marat, are universally extolled. The Athe-
nians celebrated the murder of Hipparchus in
songs of praise; and the humane and noble-minded
Schiller has celebrated the murder of Gessler by
William Tell in a drama admired not only by the
German nation, but by the whole civilized world.
The very same men who, spite of the political
motives which dictated them, condemn the assas-
sination of Henry IV. of France and that of Pres-
ident Lincoln, defend the deeds above referred
to. — History manifestly makes a distinction here.
It by no means approves the principle that the
end justifies the means; for history does not pal-
liate or excuse murder because committed from
religious or political motives. History absolves
the murderer only when his act has served to free
his people from an intolerable tyranny, to combat
which there existed no other sufficient means,
When the tyranny, with its permicious effects, is a
far greater evil than the murder of an individual,
and when the expression of Spinoza has become
applicable, that “the tyrant, should be killed like
a mad dog.”—It is impossible, indeed, to deny
the danger of even this limited excuse of a natur-
ally unjust and immoral act, by its manifest sub-
Ordination to a higher good which it serves. A
fanatic may foolishly believe that he is doing an
act agreeable to God, one necessary to humanity,
and even to the state, while sound reason accuses
him as an immoral criminal. The assassination
of Caesar did not save the Roman republic, and
did not avert the empire; on the contrary, it shook
the Roman state to its foundation, and threw the
Roman people into confusion. — The public con-
Science absolves the political murderer, not when
the perpetrator himself is simply exempt from
Selfish motives or low passions, and has engaged
in the struggle for the permanent security and
well-being of the family, of the state, or of hu-
manity, but when, besides, his deed must be ob-
jectively considered as necessary, in the light of
all related circumstances; in other words, only
when it is manifest that the evil done has really
served the furtherance of the good.—To our mod-
ern development corresponds the strong sense
of duty that pervades the entire population,
and the clear consciousness of duty that teaches
each of us to devote his life to the service of
the whole, to the extent to which the whole,
that is, the state, may need his powers. To
this modern development corresponds particu-
larly the fundamental idea which considers pub-
lic right as public duty, and purifies and ennobles
politics by the idea of duty to humanity, to na-
tions and to individuals. – The duty of princes
and rulers consists in Serving the state and the
people, and the duty of subjects and citizens con-
sists in remaining loyal and obedient to the au-
thority of the state, and, in case of need, in spend-
ing their blood and treasure for the fatherland. —
Duty goes beyond legal forms, and beyond the
sphere of possible compulsion by the state, and
its effects are felt beyond their limits. It strains
all powers, strengthens the character, elevates the
mind; and in this way, while suppressing selfish-
ness, duty, by the much which it accomplishes,
powerfully contributes to the general well-being.
—III. The Relation of Politics to the Legal Order
of Things. Public law is the sum total of the
principles, admitted as necessary and enforcible,
which regulate the public life of the state. It
creates and shapes the organs through which the
will of the state is expressed, and the forms in
POLITICS.
275
which Social life moves. Its highest, most gen-
eral and permanent expression is the constitution
and the laws. Hence, necessarily, the fundament-
al political principle: All politics (political prac-
tice) must be constitutional, and conformable to
the laws. Politics should never be unconstitutional,
nor otherwise than conformable to the laws. Any
disregard of this rule, on principle, would be a
manifest contradiction of the life of the state
with the order of the state, that is, a contradic-
tion of the state with itself. An unconstitutional
policy would attack the state at a point in which
it ought to be safest, that is, in the very basis
of its existence. An illegal policy would shake
men's faith in the law and in the authority of the
will of the state. It would weaken and paralyze
the power and blessings of the law. But, thus,
the progress of civilization, which consists in this,
through the law to curb and control brute force
and unbridled passion, would be rendered of no
effect. — A policy that, on principle, does not con-
cern itself about the right or wrong of its actions,
by so doing considers the law as a barrier only
against the weak, and not against the strong as
well, and thereby ignores the highest task of legal
order, which is called upon to protect the weak
against the maltreatment and oppression of the
strong.—When, on the contrary, politics treads
the firm ground of the law, it is in turn sustained
by the sacred authority of the law. It is thus
made safe against attacks of various kinds, and
may more readily calculate on support and fol-
lowing, and more readily attain a given purpose,
than can an illegal policy, which provokes contra-
diction and resistance.—Hence the developed con-
sciousness of right of modern times rejects decid-
edly the opinion which Machiavelli proclaimed,
in conformity with the custom of the rulers of
his time, that expediency is the only standard of
political conduct, and that law and right should
be taken into account only in as far as they seem
useful for the attainment of the proposed end, but
that wrong merited preference when useful to the
state. At the same time, the above rule has only
a relative value, and not, like the laws of nature,
an absolute effect. The absolute application of
that rule is prevented by the unavoidable faults
and deficiencies of all human provisions of law.
— 1. All actual constitutional and other law has
had an historical origin, and hence is subject to the
changes of history. Although law has a durable
character, it has no claim to be eternal. It may
answer the conditions of a given age, and be-
come useless or obsolete when the times have
changed. The immunities of the clergy, and the
exemption from taxes of the knights, during the
middle ages, had then some sense, and good sense,
but are now devoid of meaning. Hence, to ask
of politics that it should esteem obsolete law and
the law suited to the times equally, and look upon
the former as the rule of its conduct, just as much
as it looks upon the latter as such rule, would be
unnatural and irrational. For politics determines
the progressive life of a people who have out-
grown the obsolete rules of the past. —2. A
written constitution is always an imperfect repre-
sentation of the real people and the real state. In
the actual people and the actual state there are
latent forces, which become manifest in course of
time, and demand a consideration that can find
no support in the letter of the constitution, but
which, on the contrary, at times seem excluded
by it. In this manner, side by side with the writ-
ten law, there exists an unwritten law, which
completes and corrects the former. Here the chief
task of politics is, to obtain recognition for law
in the becoming (mascent law), and to protect the
hitherto latent, law. To this end, politics should
not timidly hold to that which is written, nor al-
low itself to be bound by the letter. We need only
call to mind the history of the estates, or the dif-
ference between the acts of the English parlia-
ment and the political practice of the English
king and his ministers, to find sufficient proof of
this. – 3. All law must be externally perceptible,
and must accordingly have a form. But, for this
very reason, human law is exposed to the risk
that the form may not completely answer to the
spirit, so that there may be a want of harmony
between the form and the spirit of the law (jus
and a quitas). In such case it becomes the chief
task of politics to do away with this want of har-
mony, and to reconcile the form and spirit of the
law. If politics considered that formal law should
be invariably maintained, it would ruin the state.
In doubtful cases, politics should allow itself to
be guided rather by the spirit than by the form of
the law; yet politics can not completely escape
the reproach that it must sometimes act contrary
to the formal authority of the law, in order to al-
low the spirit of the law freely to develop itself.
Under certain circumstances this may even reach
the point of an open breach of the law, and yet be
necessary. — The constitution of the German con-
federation of 1815 was, as to its form, the prepon-
derance of the many small German states over the
few large ones. But the essence of that constitu-
tion consisted in the guidance of all the German
states by the two German great powers. When
the medium states presumed to assume the
leadership because they were in the majority,
they succumbed to the preponderance of the great
powers; and when the two great powers dissolved
partnership, the whole confederation lost its sup-
port and went to pieces.—It is impossible that con-
stitutional monarchy should exist as a form of the
state when the king pushes his formal war power
to an extreme, or when the national representa-
tion pushes its formal right of voting the budget
to a like extreme. Constitutional monarchy can
thrive only under a policy that understands how
to mediate between conflicts of rights, and which
is ready and inclined to effect compromises. – 4.
All public law, finally, has its foundation in the
state, and is intended for the state. It subsists
only through the state, and for the state. An in-
stitution repugnant to the nature of the state, or a
law that stands in the way of the well-being of
276
POLITICS.
the state, is in contradiction with the nature of the
state, and with the main purpose of all public and
constitutional law. Hence we can not ask of the
politician, that he should regard a law repugnant
to the nature of the state with the same reverence
that he does a law in harmony with the nature of
the state, and with the national well-being that
it ministers to. The politician is, therefore, fre-
quently compelled to fight against an injurious
institution, and to limit as far as possible the ap-
plication of a law, perhaps entirely to abrogate it.
—When there occurs one of these possible con-
tradictions between the obsolete law of the past
and the germs of new law, or between written
and latent law, or between the unsatisfactory form
and the intellectual principle of the law, or be-
tween a law repugnant to, and another in harmony
with, the nature of the state: in all such cases, there
is some defect in the order of law itself, which
requires to be cured. It is the duty of politics to
effect that cure. In such cases the law itself or-
dinarily needs, either still further development,
a transformation, or a formation anew, so that, in-
stead of the obsolete law, a new law, adapted to the
times, may come into existence, and latent forces
obtain recognition and the protection of the law;
so that harmony may be restored between law and
equity; that useless or injurious law may be re-
placed by a better; and, lastly, so that in case of
need exceptional law may be provided for. — If
the constitution itself has foreseen the need of
such changes and improvements, and prepared the
means to undertake and carry them out, the lead-
ing politicians are in the favorable position of be-
ing able to work, by the way of reform, both as to
form and matter. The advantages of such reform
over violent action are so great that the disadvan-
tages of a slow, laborious road to the end aimed
at, a road perhaps beset with many petty obsta-
cles, do not weigh very heavily against the advan-
tages. The Romans and the English have under-
stood this, and they frequently struggled, during
years and decades, for a reform, which they at last
effected in a more constitutional way, and which
became firmly established because it had struck
such deep roots in the legal consciousness of the
people. — But the avenues of reform are not al-
ways open. It frequently happens that a consti-
tution has not foreseen, or has not provided for, its
general or partial revision. It is even more dan-
gerous, when the existing constitution intention-
ally places artificial obstacles in the way of future
reform, or when the existing legal order in prin-
ciple is in conflict with a transformation of the
law, a transformation which perhaps has become
unavoidable. In the former case, new means for
the revision of the law must first be discovered;
in the latter case, it is impossible to make any
advance without breach of the law. Instances of
the latter kind are: the definitive rupture of the
Stuart dynasty with the English nation since
James II.'s time; the development of new state
interests and state ideas in the North American
colonies as opposed to the English constitution;
the German confederation of 1815, which required
the unanimous vote of all the states, where such
unanimity was not possible, to wit, for a funda-
mental change in the constitution. — Politics can
not and should not hesitate at an innovation, as
Soon as it appears necessary to the existence or
the natural development of the state, even if the
Change can not be made without breach of the
law. Politics can not hesitate here, because the
power of the new spirit which demands the change
is stronger than the authority of any constitutional
provision which attempts to suppress the mani-
festation of life by means of a magic formula;
stronger even than the power of some particular
institution, which for a time undertakes to stem
the current of the age, but which is itself finally
Over-flooded and swept away. Politics should
not hesitate at the change, because its duty to pro-
tect and promote the life of the people is greater
and higher than its duty to protect a mere form
of law. Religion may find the highest perfection
in suffering, in the endurance of injustice, and in
Self-sacrifice. But politics must look to action, to
Success, and to the development of the external
life of man. A doctrinarian politician, therefore,
who for legal considerations neglects this essen-
tial duty, commits as great a fault as the violent
politician, who, in his fondness for innovation,
heedlessly and arbitrarily trespasses the limits of
the constitution. — The genuine statesman, ac-
cordingly, admits the second rule of exception,
which completes and limits the first main rule
above mentioned, viz. : The authority of easisting
constitutional law loses its binding power in propor-
tion as it becomes manifest that that law endangers
the easistence of the state instead of protecting it, or
prevents the matural development of the state in-
stead of advancing it. But the statesman will
apply this second rule with great caution, and
only when, after conscientious investigation, he
has become convinced that adherence to the first
and chief rule would be pernicious, and that a
case of real necessity for the application of the
second has arisen. He will also return as soon as
possible to the normal path governed by the first
and chief rule. —If the transformation politics
proceeds from those in power in the state, it is
extolled as a policy of redemption; or else, as the
policy of coups d'état, it is seen in an ambiguous
light. If such transformation politics breaks forth
violently from below, it is, when victorious, recog-
nized as revolution; but when defeated, it is called
rebellion and insurrection. Princes in such cases
appeal to the right of self-defense of the govern-
ment; and the people, to the right of self-defense
of the governed. Both refer us to the law of
nature and of reason, which serves as a basis and
limit to the law given by history. The court of
history decides, whether they appeal to it with or
without reason, by granting lasting success to cer.
tain deeds, thus recognizing them as necessary,
and smiting others with sterility, and allowing
them to perish. — The conflict of opinion is most
violent when the question at issue is the authority
POLITICS.
277
in the state itself. In subordinate things the
change may be more easily effected. But when
the dispute is as to the right to the throne itself,
forces appear in the arena which claim for them-
selves a sovereign position, and are not willing to
admit a new law as binding, to which they have
not given their assent. In this connection the
unfortunate politics of the legitimists appears as
the antipode of revolutionary politics. It does
not reflect great honor on our age, that the lead-
ing statesmen of Europe, at the beginning of the
third decade of this century, should have ven-
tured to proclaim legitimist politics as the true
politics of Europe.* This policy has everywherein
the world proved incapable of bcing cxcCutcd, and
unfortunate wherever it has been carried out by
force. It has everywhere been in conflict with
the wants of national life, and with the progress
of the age. It hampered, but did not develop, the
powers of the people, while it vainly Squandered
its means and labor to attain a goal which ever
receded from it. — FIistory, since the year 1830,
has shed a flood of light on the impotency of this
legitimist policy. It had neither the courage nor
the energy to protect the elder line of the Bour-
bons on the French throne. Neither in Italy nor
in Spain was it able permanently to guard the ab-
solutism of the restored kings against the revolu-
tion. Its authority, artificially and violently re-
stored, collapsed everywhere as soon as external
pressure was removed, and the nations began
again to breathe and move freely. It loaded the
states under its guardianship with debts, without
giving any compensation in return, and it use-
lessly consumed its own energies. It did not even
gain a short respite from the blows of the revolu-
tion, which it had momentarily conquered, be-
cause it could not prevent hostile tendencies and
inclinations from accumulating under cover until
another explosion became inevitable. — The revo-
lutionary shocks of the year 1848, the European
wars for the emancipation and unification of Italy,
and for the national organization of the German
states, deprived the legitimist policy of all credit.
The legitimist powers always succumbed. If the
divine guidance of the world be at all visible in
the history of the world, the policy of the legiti-
mists has been condemned in the most unambigu-
ous manner by divine decree. The form of the
law, no longer suited to the conditions of the time,
fell into dust, and the forces of growing national
life were in every instance victorious. Only the
statesmen who had cleared their heads of the
crotchets of legitimist politics had great and lasting
successes, while the politicians who, like modern
Don Quixotes, had striven for the cause of legiti-
macy, everywhere met with defeat. —IV. Ideal
and Realistic Politics. All politics should be realis-
tic. All politics should be ideal. Both principles
are true when they are combined together, and mu-
* Circular of Prince Metternich, May 12, 1821: “ Conserver
ce qui est légalement établi, tel a dº! Étre le principe invaria-
ble de leur politique (des souverins alliés) le point de départ
et l'objet final de tous lewrs résolutions.”
tually complete each other. Both principles are
false when they exclude each other. — By realistic
polities we understand the politics which proceeds
from the real, and not from the imaginary, wants of
the people, which correctly estimates the forces and
means at hand, carefully calculates friendly and
hostile power, and only strives after attainable
ends. Only with politics of this kind is success
possible. In this sense, able statesmen have al-
ways been realistic politicians. – We call ideal
politics that which is determined and guided by
'deas, which strives to develop and perfect the ex-
isting situation, and to realize practicable ideals,
adapted to the times. The great statesmen of all
nations, and of all times, were in this sense ideal
politicians also. —When, on the contrary, realistic
or ideal politics is understood in a one-sided sense,
such politics should be rejected. One-sided, real-
istic politics is brutal, inasmuch as it relies on
brute force, or on the power of money; it is spirit-
less, because devoid of higher ideas. For such
politics only material interests have a value, and
selfishness is the mainspring of all its action.
Hence it becomes vulgar, immoral, low, inhuman.
Machiavellian politics has often been understood
and practiced in this sense. But Machiavelli him-
self, although he complacently recommended
realistic means, kept in view an ideal aim, to-wit,
the liberation of Italy from a foreign yoke.—The
earlier colonial policy of the European mother
countries toward their colonies beyond the sea
was of this character. It was calculated chiefly
to exploit the latter to the advantage of the
former. For this reason it finally forfeited the
supremacy it had abused. —It is not impossible
that exclusively realistic politics may be success-
ful. It may make conquests, accumulate treas-
ure, procure enjoyments for rulers, and, under
certain circumstances, a rich, luxurious life for
the governed. But it extinguishes the nobler in-
stincts of the nation, it prevents the development
of the intellectual powers, it suppresses all true
freedom. It looks to the animal side of human
nature, and neglects the intellectual. — Politics of
interest must not be always classed with merely
realistic politics, for all politics must take general
national interests into account, and seek to satisfy
them. But the out-and-out politics of interest,
which subordinates everything to material and
selfish interests, belongs to this kind, and partakes
of the faults of one-sided realistic politics. – One-
sided ideal politics is equally false, and more fool-
ish, because attended with less success; because it
does not test the ground on which it stands and
moves, and hence walks in the dark and falls;
it incorrectly estimates actual forces and condi-
tions of power, and is hence defeated; it runs aft-
er impracticable and unattainable idols; or, finally,
it rushes to its ruin, the victim of obscure feel-
ings.-Of this kind is the politics of the phan-
tasy, which imagines conditions that do not exist,
and becomes enthusiastic over phantoms. Of
this kind, too, is politics of the romanticists, who
fell in love with the pictures of mediaeval life,
278
|POLK.
and who thought, that, by the wave of Some magic
wand, they might revive the class differences of
the middle ages, their pious clergy and knights,
and fill our modern industrial world with mon-
asteries and castles. Germany had different kinds
of such romanticists, longing for an imaginary
middle age: romantic kings, longing for the re-
vival of the theocratic feudal system, and roman-
tic students, who reveled in visions of the national
black, red and gold (the German tricolore before
1866). Both failed in actual politics. But even
celebrated statesmen have occasionally fallen into
this same error. Thus, imagination had a large
share in the Egyptian campaign of Napoleon I.;
and his nephew at Strasburg and Boulogne was
carried away by very childish fancies. – The
statesman, however, may legitimately work on
the imagination of peoples, and hold up to their
mental vision pictures of greatness, power and
freedom, in order to increase their energy of ac-
tion. But the statesman should never rely on the
imagination; he must beware lest the latter weak-
en entirely, when brought into contact with stern
reality. — The politics of feeling is another kind
of false ideal politics. In politics, leadership be-
longs to reason, wisdom and masculinity. When
politics allows itself to be guided by passion or
excited feeling, by love or hatred, by fear or re-
venge, it goes dangerously and easily astray, and
is certain to be worsted. — It is doubtful whether
the politics that in the middle ages produced the
crusades should be ascribed to the imagination,
or to over-excited religious feeling; at all events,
it was one-sided and unfortunate politics. Re-
ligious wars, with all their ruinous effects, must
be ascribed entirely to the politics of feeling.
Senseless race hatred, a blot on humanity, a hatred
which sometimes exists between kindred nations
and tribes, is calculated to mislead the best feel-
ings of a people, and to play a ruinous part in
politics. The right course, therefore, is not the
separation, but the union, of real and ideal politics.
The realistic side forms the basis of rational poli-
tics; the ideal side is its guiding star. The former
has to do chiefly with the means; the latter, with
the ends. – It is with politics as with art. The
mere naturalist, who faithfully paints stone, wood,
woolen or silken stuffs, is no true artist, unless he
employs his talent in the service of the beautiful.
But the man who draws beautiful lines, and is
unfaithful to nature, satisfies us no better. Great
artists, like Michael Angelo and Raphael, were
both realists and idealists. Shakespeare is the
greatest of poets because, in his works, truth to
nature is united with the most abundant wealth
of thought, in such perfect harmony that the
two are bound indissolubly together. But only
in the greatest statesmen do we see the personi-
fication, so to speak, of Such a combination of
realistic and ideal politics; as, for instance, in
Pericles and Alexander the Great, in Julius Caesar,
in Charlemagne and King Henry I., in Frederick
II. of Prussia and Washington, in Lord Chatham
and Pitt, in Napoleon I., in Baron von Stein and
Count Cavour. In individuals and nations the
realistic or the ideal, for the most part, prepon.
derates, yet neither the ideal nor the realistic should
be absent from either the nation or the individual.
—English politics is predominantly realistic, and,
first of all, the politics of interest; yet English
politics is not wanting in the ideal, as is proved
by the immense influence English ideas of popu-
lar rights and political freedom have exercised in
the world. French politics prefers the ideal, and
always advances an idea as its flaming beacon.
Napoleon III. boasted that, “Only the French.
were ready to go to war for an idea!” But, by
the side of this idealism, French politics mani.
fests strong features of realism. The French
never yet scorned to get in return for their ideal
enthusiasm the highest material advantages. This
Europe has always been made to feel, whether
France happened to be governed by legitimist
kings, by revolutionary directors or presidents,
or by Napoleonic emperors. — During the last
centuries the German nation did not succeed in
establishing a harmonious union between realistic
and ideal politics. It unfortunately vacillated
hither and thither, between the realistic pressure
of absolute governments, and nebulous, idealistic
dreams. Prussian politics was the first to under-
stand how to collect and intensify the bodily
reality of the forces of the people, by proposing
higher tasks to the nation. The greatest of these,
the unification of Germany and the rise of the
German empire, are due chiefly to the efforts of
Prince Bismarck, whom people, by way of prefer-
ence, designate as a realistic politician; who, in
fact, better than any other living statesman, knows.
how to estimate and reckon with actual forces,
but who, at the same time, , is uncommonly fer-
tile in ideal thoughts, and, on the whole, allows
himself to be determined by the ideas of a na-
tional and masculinely free state organization,
adapted to the nature and destinies of the Ger-
man people; and who, accordingly, is an ideal
politician, as well as a realistic one.
J. C. BLUNTSCHLI.
POLK, James Knox, president of the United
States 1845–9, was born in Mecklenburgh county,
N. C., Nov. 2, 1795, and died at Nashville, Tenn.,
June 15, 1849. He was graduated at the univer-
sity of North Carolina in 1818, was admitted to
the bar in 1820, and served as congressman (dem-
ocrat) 1825-39. (See CONGRESS, SESSIONS OF.).
He was governor of Tennessee 1839–43, and in
1844 was elected president. (See ELECTORAL.
WOTEs, XV.) For the principal events of his ad-
ministration see ANNExATIONS, III.; WARS, W.;
WILMOT PROVISO ; FREE-SOIL PARTY ; INTER-
NAL IMPROVEMENTs ; TARIFF. His personal re-
semblance to Jackson, their general agreement in
political feeling, and their neighborhood in birth,
life and death, gave him the popular sobriquet of
“young hickory.”—See Hickman's Life of Polk
(1844); Chase's Administration of Polk (1850);
Jenkins' Administration of Polk (1851); 3 States-
POLL
TAX. 279
man’s Manual, 1537; 3 Woodbury's Works ; 2
Benton's Thirty Years’ View, 737.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
POLL TAX (Fr., taa!e personnelle or capitation;
Ger., kopfstener), a tax levied upon each poll or
head of population. It is one of the most ancient
and universal taxes, being met with in the history
of almost every nation, and has survived in many
countries to the present day. Although a very
unequal tax, in that it takes from each payer a
like sum, irrespective of his circumstances, and al-
though it is not in its simplest form an elastic tax,
the ease with which it is collected has recom-
mended its adoption. It is a direct tax, and when
imposed upon laborers forms a tax upon wages.
Adam Smith (book v., chap. ii.) claims that such
taxes when collected upon slaves are properly
taxes upon the profits of a certain species of stock
employed in agriculture. — Aristotle (“Econom-
ics”) mentions one instance of a tax of two minas
imposed upon those who possessed no real prop-
erty, but it was exceptional, as all direct taxes,
whether levied on the soil, trades or persons, were
deemed tyrannical unless self-imposed. “The
most ignominious imposition was the poll tax,
which none but slaves paid to their tyrant, or
to his deputy the Satrap, or subjugated nations to
their conqueror, as, for example, the inhabitants
of the provinces to victorious Rome. “As the
field,’ says Tertullian, ‘is of less value when it is
subject to a tax, so are the persons of men more
despised when they pay a poll tax; for this is an
indication of captivity.’ He whose person was
not free had assuredly to pay a tax upon his head,
that it might not be taken from him.” (Boeckh's
“Public Economy of the Athenians.”) There is
some doubt as to whether the capitation or poll
taxes levied at Rome were really such, or rather
property taxes. An account of them as levied
under the empire is to be found in Gibbon. A
law of Valens and Valentinian recites that up to
that time each man had himself paid a certain
capitation tax, but henceforth two and even three
might unite to pay this tax; an arrangement that
probably resulted from the imposition of other
taxes. – Although the Romans collected this tax
from the tribes subjugated by them, in France it
was after a time abolished. During the reign of
John the estates voted a capitation tax, to be levied
upon all, without exception, from the members of
the royal family to the peasant. It was not, how-
ever, until 1695 that the poll tax assumed a defi-
nite form, and it then became a graduated tax,
twenty-two classes of payers being recognized,
with taxes ranging from 2,000 livres to twenty
sous, the basis of classification being the estate
and rank of the person assessed. (See Taine
J.'ancien Régime, book v., chap. ii., for the injus-
tice of such a scale.) During the revolution all
internal taxes on consumption were abolished, and
among new imposts established, was that of three
days’ labor upon the roads. This could be com-
muted into a payment of money, the value of the
labor being determined by the local administration.
This charge passed through various forms, and
finally became the taa!e personnelle of the present
day, which is based upon the value of three days'
labor. But as the tariff for estimating the money
value is the same that was used in the last cent-
ury, although wages in the meantime have doub-
led and even tripled, the revenue is small, and
much less than it ought to be.—In some countries
of Europe, as, for example, Russia and Hungary,
the poll taxes appear to have been paid to the
landlord, but in the other cases, and they form
much the larger number, they have been paid to
the government. In the former instances they
may be regarded as a sort of rent, but in the latter
they are taxes upon wages. In England a poll
tax was first levied during the reign of Richard
II., and its subsequent history forms quite an im-
portant episode in history. In 1377, to meet the
demands of the treasury, in addition to the usual
taxes and duties, a new charge of a groat a head
was imposed, which was intended to reach every
person in the realm. In 1379 it was renewed in a
somewhat different form, being graduated accord-
ing to the dignity of the payer. The duke of
Lancaster was to pay ten marks, earls £4, barons
and baronets £2, and so on down to the lowest
ranks, in which every person above the age of
sixteen was to pay one groat. The chief result of
this impost was the preparation of the poll tax
rolls of 1379, “one of the most important records
of the state of the population of England that was
ever drawn up.” As a financial measure it proved
miserably inadequate, producing in 1379 not more
than £22,000, and was in the following year made
more severe. This led to the peasant revolt of
1381. Never a popular tax, the feeling against it
became stronger each year. “One of the attrac-
tions of the new mode of taxation seems to have
been that the clergy, who adopted it for them-
selves, paid, in this way, a larger share of the
burdens of the state; but the chief ground for its
adoption lay, no doubt, in its bringing within the
net of the tax gatherer a class which had hitherto
escaped him, men such as the free laborer, the
village smith, the village tiler.” (Green.) The
constant pressure of taxation, which by the poll
tax was felt in its most irritating form in every
household, goaded into revolt the oppressed peas-
ants. “Nothing,” says Stubbs, in his “Constitu-
tional History of England,” “had helped so much
to maintain the national feeling against the papacy
as the payment of Peter's pence, the penny from
each hearth due for the Romescot. So the poll tax
interpreted to the individual, far more intelligibly
than any political propaganda, the misdoings of
the rulers. The appointment of the chancellor
and the treasurer, the misdoings of the Court, the
mismanagement of the war, became home ques-
tions to every one who had his groat to pay.”
Graduated poll taxes were imposed during the
reigns of Henry VIII., Charles I. and II., and
lastly in that of William III., when they were
abolished. — The federal government has the
28()
POLL TAX.
power to impose poll taxes, but only in proportion
to the enumeration or census. (Constitution, art.
I., § 9.) This power has never been exercised.
The states have, however, assessed them until
recent times, but very few do now. The capita-
tion tax was doubtless among the first charges im-
posed, as the condition of the colonies would tend
to show. In the early days of a community there
is almost nothing besides visible and tangible
property that can be taxed. And as men were
more nearly equal in rank and condition, and re-
garded as being equally protected by the law in
the enjoyment of life and property, the poll tax
naturally suggested itself as the simplest and most
equitable form of taxation. As an example may
be mentioned the occurrences of the poll tax in
Maryland, as described by a writer in the circular
of the Johns Hopkins university. In 1641 a cap-
itation tax was granted by the assembly, in testi-
mony of its gratitude toward Lord Baltimore for
his efforts to promote the welfare of the colony.
In the act of 1692, establishing the Protestant re-
ligion in Maryland, every taxable person was
made to pay forty pounds of tobacco yearly for
the building of churches and the support of parish
ministers. To hinder the growth of papacy, an
act was passed in 1704 taxing all Irish servants
who came into the colony. The same year a tax
was imposed on all imported negroes. In 1717
the proceeds of this latter tax were appropriated
toward the public school fund, and for erecting
one free school in each county. In 1728 every
taxable person was made to present the local
authorities with three crows’ heads or squirrels'
scalps. Poll taxes were at various times levied
for special objects, such as the building of alms-
houses and the construction of highways. The
last poll tax in Maryland was levied in 1774,
for the purpose of constructing a new road. In
fact, from 1641 down to the last year of the
proprietary government (1774), a poll tax was col-
lected in this state. — In 1860, according to a
report made to the New York state legislature,
twenty-seven states and territories employed the
poll tax. Some of the special features are worthy
of notice. Thus, while Alabama taxed both male
and female free negroes, Mississippi, North Caro-
lina and Virginia taxed slaves. In California,
Mongolians not engaged in production paid a
monthly special poll tax of $2.50, known as the
Chinese police tax, and in the same state a special
federal war tax was laid on polls. In Nebraska
and Utah this impost could be commuted into so
many days’ labor on the roads, probably on ac-
count of a Scarcity of ready money. Louisiana ap-
propriated the proceeds exclusively for the support
of her free public schools. In Connecticut and
Delaware the polls were rated at a certain capital
value, which varied from $300 in the former state
(it was at one time only $10) to $2,700, which
was the highest limit in Delaware. In South
Carolina the state constitution provided, that,
whenever a tax is laid upon land, a capitation tax
of not less than one-fourth of the tax levied upon
each hundred dollars of the assessed value of the
land taxed shall be imposed upon polls, and the
constitution of Virginia contained a somewhat
similar provision. There were many exemptions
from poll taxes mentioned in the laws, among
which were persons attached to the army or navy,
or who had been wounded while in the military
Service of the country; paupers and the insane,
the deaf and dumb, the blind and infirm; minis.
ters of the Gospel (Tennessee); persons of color
(Wisconsin), and uncivilized American Indians
(Nevada). In some states the payment of a poll
tax was made a necessary qualification of the
voter, as it is in Massachusetts to-day (1883). —
On the other hand, Pennsylvania, Kentucky and
Michigan levied no poll taxes; the constitutions of
Ohio and Maryland declared them to be grievous
and oppressive, and Rhode Island provided by
law that “no poll tax could be laid for any pur-
pose,” although the constitution allowed the col-
lection of a registry tax, which was in reality a
capitation tax. — To take from each payer an
equal sum, which is the simplest form of a poll
tax, does not necessarily make each man pay an
equal tax. On the contrary, such a duty is very
unequal in its incidence, as the condition of the
payers must vary within wide limits. It would
obviously be unequal to levy this tax upon every
member of the family, parents and children,
because the number of children in a family is
no measure of comfort or of ability to pay taxes.
Leroy-Beaulieu believes that only males should
pay a poll tax, and that it should be joined to
political rights. Every man, he says, who pos-
sesses and exercises the right of suffrage, ought to
pay a direct tax, the rate to depend upon the
needs of the local administrations and the exist-
ing indirect taxes. Among some of the United
States, in which the payment of a poll tax is nec-
essary to an exercise of the elective franchise, the
door has been opened to abuse and frauds, as it
is customary for the party managers to indirectly
buy the votes of the delinquent tax payers by
settling for them their poll tax dues. – The in-
equality of the capitation tax has frequently been
noticed, and in attempting to make it more equal
the tendency is to change it into a tax upon in-
come; if not based directly upon the income of
each payer or class of payers, it may at least bear
a certain relation to it. Where the existence of
privileged classes permits such a graduation by
rank, it has been resorted to, as in France and
England. In Prussia a tax of this description is
still levied, the classenstener. The population is
divided somewhat arbitrarily into various classes,
according to their supposed income, and a tax
proportioned to this classification imposed upon
each group. Thus, the tax that is paid by each
member of one class or group is the same, and is
to that extent a poll or capitation tax; but as the
tax payers are grouped according to their supposed
or determined incomes, it partakes of the charac-
ter of an income tax. The one or other feature
predominates according as the number of groups
POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY.
281
formed is small or large. The classenstener has
proved a very productive tax, but poll taxes as a
rule can never be counted upon to furnish a large
revenue, and are being superseded by other and
more productive taxes. – AUTHORITIES. Leroy-
Beaulieu, Science des Finances; Levi, and M*Cul-
loch, on Taa’ation ; Report on State Assessment
Laws, N. Y., 1863; and the various Manuals of
Political Economy. WoRTHINGTON C. FORD.
POPULAR SOWEREIGNTY (IN U. S. His-
TORY). The acquisition of territory from Mexico
(see ANNEXATIONs, IV.-W.I.) brought with it a
most troublesome and dangerous question, the
status of slavery therein. Was the new territory
to be entirely free? was it to be entirely slave? was
it to be equitably divided? or was congress to re-
frain from interfering in any way, and allow the
problem to gradually eliminate its own difficulties?
The first proposition, the basis of the free-soil
and republican parties successively, is elsewhere
treated (see WILMOT PROVISO); the third had com-
paratively few advocates, for the time had passed
when even a Missouri compromise line could
settle the difficulty; the second and fourth rep-
resent the two opposing influences which, after
twelve years of widening, finally split the demo-
cratic party in 1860. — The second proposition
above referred to is primarily untraceable, but its
rounded and ultimate completion is certainly due
to Calhoun. The argument for it took two di-
rections, which may be briefly stated as follows:
1. The power given to congress by the constitu-
tion (article IV., section 3), to “dispose of and
make all needful rules and regulations respecting
the territory” of the United States, referred only
to the territory then held by the United States, in
which slavery had already been prohibited. (See
ORDINANCE OF 1787.) This meaning was so clear
at the time that a separate section was necessary
to empower congress to govern the territory there-
after to be acquired for a national capital. Plain-
ly, then, in the cases of Louisiana, Florida, and
the Mexican annexations, congress was to govern
them, not by virtue of this territorial section of
the constitution, but by virtue of the Sovereign
power by which it had acquired them. But con-
gress was itself the creature of the constitution,
and could exercise in the territories no powers
prohibited to it by the constitution: it could not
erect a state church there; or take away freedom
of speech, or trial by jury; or allow any one to be
deprived of property without due process of law.
If, therefore, it found slave property in any of the
territories, it was constitutionally bound to legis-
late for the protection of this species of property,
as well as of others. This was the branch of ar-
gument intended for the country in general. His-
torically it is very strong, as may be better seen in
Taney’s opinion in the Dred Scott case. Logically
it is almost as strong, its radically Weak point be-
ing in the definition of “property.” How could
congress be said to “find slave property” in the
territories? State law or custom might create a
property in man, but this could cover only the
jurisdiction of the state: the state law or custom
of Georgia could no more justify property in
slaves in a territory than in the sister state of New
York. Slave property could not be justified by
territorial law, for the territories were under the
Sovereign jurisdiction of the United States; nor
by that consensus of recognition by all men which
justifies the holding of other animate objects as
property. It could hold up absolutely no other
shield than state law. Was congress to protect
every man in the territories in the enjoyment of
whatever he might see fit to claim as his property
—air, Sunlight, black men, or even other white
men? But the whole argument is no stronger
than its weakest part, and must stand or fall with
that. 2. As the constitution was a compact be-
tween separate and Sovereign states, congress, as
the joint agent and representative of the states,
had no right to so legislate against slave property
in the territories as to prevent citizens of slave
States from emigrating thither, since that would
be a discrimination against such states, and would
deprive them of their full and equal right in the
territories. This branch is elsewhere considered.
(See NATION, III.; STATE SoverEIGNTY.) In this
case it was addressed more directly to the slave
states than to the country at large, and it furnishes
the connecting link between the theory of state
sovereignty and its practical enforcement by se-
Cession, when Calhoun’s hypothetical casus bell,
had occurred. In this point of view, Calhoun’s
resolutions of Feb. 19, 1847, whose language has
been used, in the statement above, were the ulti-
matum on which the Southern states originally
declared war, in 1860. — The first enunciation of
the fourth proposition is generally found in the
Nicholson letter of Cass, Dec. 24, 1847. In this
Cass asserts that the principle of the Wilmot pro-
viso “should be kept out of the national legisla-
ture, and left to the people of the confederacy in
their respective local governments”; and that, as
to the territories themselves, the people inhabiting
them should be left “to regulate their internal
concerns in their own way.” This idea was the
essence of “popular sovereignty.” Its advocates
generally accepted the territorial section of the
constitution, above refered to, as applicable, not
only to the territory possessed by the United
States in 1788, but prospectively to any which
might be acquired thereafter. They therefore
held that congress might make any ‘‘ rules and
regulations” it might deem proper for the terri-
tories, including the Mexican acquisitions; but
that, in making these rules and regulations, it was
wiser and better for congress to allow the “in-
choate state” to shape its own destiny at its own
will. Properly, it will be seen, there was nothing
in the dogma which could constitutionally pro-
hibit congress from making rules for or against
slavery in the territories, if it should so determine,
though gradually Douglas and some of its more
enthusiastic advocates grew into the belief that
popular sovereignty was the constitutional right
282
POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY..
of the people of the territories, which congress
could not abridge. Still, it should have been
plain that, if a democratic congress might make
a “regulation "empowering the people of the ter-
ritories to control slavery therein, a congress of
opposite views might with equal justice make a
“regulation” of its own, abolishing slavery there-
in. This point, however, never became plain to
the south until the new republican party secured
control of the house of representatives in 1855–7.
After that time the whole south came to repudiate
popular sovereignty and the territorial section of
the constitution, and rested on the Calhoun doc-
trine that congress and the immigrant both entered
the territory with all the limitations of the consti-
tution upon them, including its provisions for the
protection of slave property as well as property of
other kinds. – At its first declaration, however,
the idea proved to be a very taking one, South and
north, for it promised to relieve the states from any
responsibility for or consideration of the question
of slavery in the territories. This was to be decided
by the territorial legislature, as representing the
people, and by the popular convention, upon the
final formation of a state constitution. The dem-
ocratic platform of 1848 did not directly refer to
or indorse it, but its highly colored reference to
the French revolution of that year, and to “the
recent development of this grand political truth
of the Sovereignty of the people and their capac-
ity and power for Self-government,” was at least
suggestive of the Cass doctrine of popular sov-
ereignty in the territories. The suggestion was
made still plainer by the convention’s action in re-
jecting, by a vote of 216 to 36, a resolution offered
by Yancey, of Alabama, recognizing ‘‘the doc-
trine of non-interference with the rights of prop-
erty of any portion of the people of this confed-
eracy, be it in the states or territories, by any
other than the parties interested in them [i. e., in
such rights]”; the democratic convention was not
willing, therefore, to sustain the right of any
slaveholder to transfer his slave property into a
territory against the will of its people. — The
sudden growth of population in California in
1848–50 gave Calhoun an opportunity of fastening
a nickname upon the doctrine which he opposed.
No territorial government had been formed in
California when it applied for admission as a
state. Its inhabitants, said Calhoun, were therefore
trespassers on the public domain, mere squatters,
who surely had no right on any theory to regulate
their own government. His ridicule only made
the terms “squatter sovereignty” and “popular
sovereignty” interchangeable, though the former
properly applied to an unorganized, and the latter
to an organized, territory. —The original discov-
erer of the doctrine of popular sovereignty in the
territories did not perfect his claim by occupation,
and Douglas almost immediately became its strong-
est and most persistent champion, So that his name
is most entirely identified with it. Hencefor-
ward the Douglas doctrine became the shibboleth
of most of the northern democrats, as a medium
between the Wilmot proviso and the demand of
many of the Southern democrats for active con-
gressional protection of slavery in the territories.
It is significant, however, of the timorous and
evasive statesmanship of 1850, that it is exceed-
ingly difficult to say whether popular sovereignty
was a feature in the compromise of that year.
(See COMPROMISES, V.) Southern democrats as-
Serted that it was not, and their claim is supported
by the provisions that the legislatures of Utah and
New Mexico (the only territories organized by the
compromise) should have power over “all right-
ful subjects of legislation consistent with the con-
stitution of the United States,” and that its laws.
should be submitted to congress, and, if disap-
proved, should be null and of no effect. Douglas.
asserted that popular sovereignty was the basis of
the bill, and the course of proceedings on it in
the Senate seems to confirm his assertion. He re-
ported the bill in the senate, March 25, the powers.
of the legislature being as above stated. The com-
mittee of thirteen reported the same bill, May 8,
adding the proviso “with the exception of Afri-
can slavery.” Amendments were offered by Jef-
ferson Davis, of Mississippi, to empower the ter-
ritorial legislature to protect, but not to attack,
slavery, and by Chase, of Ohio, of exactly the
opposite purport. Both were rejected; a motion
of Douglas, through another Senator, to strike
out the committee’s exception of slavery from the
powers of the legislature, was carried by a vote of
33 to 19; and the bill passed as originally framed
by Douglas. Even with this explanation, the best
that can be said of the whole arrangement is, that
it was a provoking verbal juggle, meaning any-
thing but what it appeared to mean on its face,
and best calculated for citation as a precedent in
two opposite senses, for an increasingly bitter
wrangle over its meaning, and for the final disrup-
tion of the party which had passed it. (See DEMO-
CRATIC-REPUBLICAN PARTY, W.) — In 1854 the
Ransas-Nebraska bill (see that title) again pur-
ported to enforce the popular sovereignty idea in
the new territories, although slavery had been
prohibited in both of them by the Missouri Com-
promise of 1820. The fourteenth and thirty-sec-
ond sections of the act put the laws of the United
States in force in the two territories, “except the
eighth section of the act preparatory to the ad-
mission of Missouri into the Union, approved
March 6, 1820, which, being inconsistent with the
principle of non-intervention by congress with
slavery in the states and territories, as recognized
by the legislation of 1850, commonly called the
compromise measures, is hereby declared inopera-
tive and void; it being the true intent and mean-
ing of this act, not to legislate slavery into any
territory or state, nor to exclude it therefrom, but
to leave the people thereof perfectly free to form
and regulate their domestic institutions in their
own way, subject only to the constitution of the
|United States.” It will be noticed that the lan-
guage is simple and direct until the point is
reached where “popular sovereignty” was to be
POPULAR SOWEREIGNTY.
283
defined; then it becomes circumlocutory. The
people were to “form and regulate their domestic
institutions in their own way ”; did that mean
that they were at liberty either to allow or to pro-
hibit slavery? “Popular sovereignty” and com-
mon sense said, Yes; the very senate that passed
the bill said, No: Chase's amendment, “under
which the people of the territory, through their
appropriate representatives, may, if they see fit,
prohibit the existence of slavery therein,” was re-
jected, March 2, by a vote of 36 to 10. What
other meaning than that of the Chase amendment
could be given to the bill, it is impossible to see,
and, unless the vote above mentioned was only
significant of a general dislike of Chase, the pop-
ular sovereignty part of the Kansas-Nebraska bill
must be set down as another verbal juggle, in-
tended to be read in different ways north and
South. — In the meantime Calhoun’s original the-
Ory had been growing in favor at the south.
There the leaders were rapidly growing more dis-
Satisfied with “non-intervention by congress,”
with the idea that congress was of itself to do
nothing for or against slavery in the territories;
but was to delegate to the people of the territories
the powers which it would not or could not exer-
cise itself. A convention of delegates from nine
Southern states at Nashville, June 2, 1850, had
declared that the federal government had no right
to decide what should be held as property in the
territories; that the slaveholding states would not
Submit to any restraints upon the removal of their
citizens with their property [o the territories; but
that, for the sake of peace, they would consent
to the equitable division of the territories by the
line of 36° 30' to the Pacific. Four years after-
ward they assisted in carrying through the exten-
Sion of popular sovereignty to all the territories,
by the Kansas-Nebraska bill, partly from the de-
sire to gratify the northern democracy, but much
more from the delusive hope that all the territo-
ries would thus be opened to slavery. Within
two years this hope had vanished forever. (See
KANSAS.) It was plain that, without the reopen-
ing of the African slave trade, ‘‘ popular sover-
eignty” in the territories meant their inevitable
final admission as free states. From the moment
that this result was apparent, there was no longer
any hesitation among southern leaders. They ac-
cepted every link of the reasoning which Calhoun
had forged ten years before: in the territories
neither congress nor the territorial government
could legislate against slavery; on the contrary,
Congress as the agent of the states, and the ter-
ritorial governments as the agents of congress,
were bound to fulfill the essence of good gov-
ernment by protecting those rights of property
which were recognized by the states; and popular
Sovereignty would only come into play when the
territory should itself become a state, and should
decide whether it should be a free or a slave
State. These were the basis of the Southern de-
mands for a platform, on which the Charleston
convention split in 1860. They had previously
been accepted by the president and the official
leaders of the democratic party, and by its ma-
jority in the Senate. Douglas’ non-concurrence
led to his removal from the committee on territo-
ries in the Senate, and practically placed him out
of the party fold.—Throughout all this twelve.
years struggle, “non-intervention by congress"
meant, in the north, that congress was to do noth-
ing for or against slavery in the territories, but
was to allow the people of the territories to do as
they pleased; and, in the South, that congress was
to do nothing against slavery in the territories,
either of itself or through the territorial legisla-
tures. By dexterous manipulation of phrases the
northern and southern democracy had united to
pass the territorial bills of 1850 and 1854, neither
insisting on the full expression of its demands in
words. But in 1857 the supreme court, in the
Dred Scott case (see that title), decided against
Douglas and popular sovereignty, and for the
full vigor of the Calhoun theory. Thereafter the
Southern leaders, as law-abiding citizens, could of
course do nothing else than amplify their previous
demands into consistence with the supreme court’s
doctrine, and, further, insist upon their expression
in plain terms. In the democratic national con-
vention of 1856 both sections had been content
with a bald approval of “non-interference by
congress with slavery in the territories,” leaving
the interpretation of this phrase undecided. In
the convention of 1860 the two sections formu-
lated their respective demands in plain terms. No
IIlanipulation of phrases could reconcile them,
and tho convention and the party at last divided.
(See DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN PARTY, W.) With
the election of 1860, and the outbreak of the rebell-
ion, popular sovereignty disappeared with the
evil for which it was designed to be the remedy.
— The best exposition of the doctrine of “popu-
lar sovereignty" is that published by Douglas in
September, 1859, as cited below. In it he insists
desperately that the Dred Scott decision had not
condemned his doctrine, though he admits that,
if it had so condemned it, the Seward dogma.
would be correct, that “there is an irrepressible
conflict between opposing and enduring forces,
which means that the United States must and
will, sooner or later, become either entirely a slave-
holding nation or entirely a free labor nation.”
This belief of Douglas will account for the offer of
his followers at Charleston “to abide by the deci-
sions of the supreme court on questions of con-
stitutional law.” But his belief, honest as it un-
doubtedly was, was evidently unfounded. How
can “the opinion of the court, that the act of
congress which prohibited a citizen from holding
and owning property of this kind [slave property]
in the territory of the United States, is not war.
rañted by the constitution, and is therefore void,”
be reconciled with a power in congress to author-
ize the people of the territories to impose the Same
prohibition? The court could hardly have decided
against Douglas more plainly, except by naming
him and his doctrine. Nevertheless, the doctrine
284
POPULATION.
of Douglas, that the territories are held only for
the purpose of becoming states, that they are
therefore really “inchoate states,” that it is wise
and just to allow their inhabitants the powers of
self-government and “the regulation of their
domestic institutions to suit themselves,” is well
founded, and has been the foundation of the
American territorial system since 1787. (See TER-
RITORIES, I.) But the power of congress, never-
theless, is always latent, and may be exercised
whenever congress, rightly or mistakenly, con-
ceives it to be “for the general welfare” to do
SO. If the people of the territory undertake to
harbor anything which seems to congress a moral
evil, a lottery system, polygamy, or slavery, it is
the right and duty of congress, for the welfare
not only of the future state but of all the states,
to intervene and destroy it. It is a little odd that
the congresses of 1854–8, which were so quick to
recognize this truth in the case of polygamy in
Utah, were so slow to recognize it in the case of
slavery in Kansas. Popular sovereignty in, the
territories is, and has always been, a privilege, not
a right; and the privilege is to be exercised in
strict conformity to the terms of the grant. — The
historical authorities for the rise and fall of the
idea of “popular sovereignty” in the territories
will be found under DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN
IPARTY, W.; REPUBLICAN PARTY, I. The Cal-
houn doctrine will be found in 4 Calhoun’s Works,
339 (resolutions of Feb. 19, 1847), 535; see also
Taney’s opinion in DRED SCOTT CASE; 2 Ste-
phens' War Between the States, 202; and Jefferson
Davis' senate resolutions of May 24, 1860, in
Greeley’s Political Teat Book of 1860, 194. Cass'
Nicholson letter in full is in Cluskey's Political
Teat Book of 1860, 462. The Douglas doctrine is
in Harper's Magazine, September, 1859, and in
Cutts’ Treatise on Party Questions, 123. The
former article was answered by attorney general
J. S. Black in pamphlet Observations on it; and the
medium between the two is taken in Reverdy
Johnson's Remarks on Popular Sovereignty. H.
.A. Wise's Territorial Government, 47, 148, accom-
plishes the difficult feat of reaching Calhoun’s
conclusions from Douglas’ premises.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
POPULATION. I. PosLTION OF THE QUES-
TION OF POPULATION. — The Principle of Popula-
tion, imperfectly seen by several Economists, demon-
Strated by Malthus, and strangely misapprehended.
The term population embraces the most extensive
subject of political economy; for in treating of
questions of population, even though we restrict
ourselves to labor and its remuneration, we might
traverse the whole field of the science and write a
complete course of political economy. Population
is, in fact, at once the end and the means of human
industry. For it and by it production takes place.
By it also consumption is effected. We shall not,
therefore, here consider this vast subject under
its general aspect, but will confine ourselves to the
questions suggested by the number of people, the
elucidation of which must precede those connected
with the fundamental questions of demand and
Supply, competition, wages, and social conditions.
This range is still, as will be seen, very extended.
The questions it embraces have been frequently
discussed, especially during the past century, and
in our own time; but of all writers, he who has
most thoroughly investigated them, he whose
ideas on this subject are, so to speak, the pivot of
the discussions of economists, moralists, and pub-
licists of every class, is the celebrated Malthus.
To his investigations, and, we may say, discov-
eries, we will first give our attention. — It was
Malthus who stated the question. He it was who
first showed its supreme importance. He brought
together the scientific elements of the discussion,
in his celebrated “Essay on the Principle of Popu-
lation,” published in 1803. This had been pre-
ceded by a preliminary sketch of the subject in
1798, in his reply to some propositions by Godwin,
who was, in his turn, twenty years later, to at-
tempt to refute him, but without success. Not
that before Malthus some correct ideas on popu-
lation had not appeared from a few writers, among
others those of the physiocratie school, and James
Stewart, Adam Smith, Wallace, Hume, and Gian
Maria Ortès; but to the English philosopher be-
longs the honor of having seen and pointed out the
profundity of the problem, of having made it the
subject of numerous statistical and historical re-
searches, and obtained a great amount of infor-
mation upon it. Until the beginning of this cent-
ury, i. e., up to the time of Malthus, legislators,
statesmen and philosophers set out with this aphor-
ism: “Where there is population, there is power.”
They took no account of the conditions under
which the population might be living; no one
questioned the proposition, and all Social institu-
tions aimed to increase the number of the people.
Colbert, Pitt, and even Napoleon, favored grant-
ing rewards to the producers of large families;
and it was not until 1852 that the parliament of
Sardinia repealed a law to the same effect. Peo-
ple had no idea, that, in order for capital and labor
to produce their greatest effect, the number of
men must bear some relation to the disposable
capital; they supposed that if, for example, a
thousand laborers produced a million dollars, it
was only necessary that two thousand laborers
should be born to the state, to obtain two mill-
ions. The laws of all European countries origi-
nated when that idea prevailed, and even to-day
there are legislators and publicists, priests and
philosophers, moralists and poets, who appeal to
that doctrine. It is still a quite common belief
that a good government will do everything in its
power to increase population. — Malthus pointed
out the dangers to society in general from this
error, and especially to the poorer classes, who are
the first to suffer from violations of natural laws.
We will therefore, at the outset, give an exposi-
tion of his ideas, and indicate, as we proceed, the
support he has received, and the modifications
which his doctrine has experienced, from other
POPULATION.
285
eminent economists, as well as the exaggerations
which have been substituted for it, the follies for
which ignorance has made it responsible, and the
principal objections or criticisms of which it has
been the object. But first of all, we will say a few
words concerning the way in which his ideas and
sentiments have been misrepresented.— Malthus
affords a curious example of popular aberrations,
for which fact many publicists and some econo-
mists, who have opposed, or even approved him,
are responsible. Not only is Malthus not known,
not only are people ignorant of his actual ideas,
but men have succeeded in creating in the minds
of the public a Malthus that never existed, a chi-
merical Malthus, to whom the strangest proposi-
tions are attributed, and who has been the sub-
ject of harsh reproaches and violent impreca-
tions. This strange phenomenon may be thus
explained : Most of those who have spoken of
Malthus, have spoken of him without having
read him and without knowing him otherwise
than by extracts or by mutilated, if not incor-
rect, quotations. They have thus created the
most deplorable confusion concerning him, by
attributing to him ideas which he never had; by
making of a philanthropist especially interested in
the condition of the poor, a theorist favoring aris-
tocracy; by holding him responsible for sentiments
and errors belonging to his adversaries; or, it may
be, for absurd propositions emanating from un-
healthy minds. – It must be confessed, however,
that this condition of things is in part attributable
to Malthus himself. The different parts of his
book are not logically put together; his scallered
reasons are nowhere presented in orderly sequence,
in support of the principles he lays down; his
style, moreover, is not particularly engaging. The
great truths which he has set forth in regard to
population would, without doubt, have become
much more popular had he written like Rousseau
or Lamennais, or with the ardent style of a pam-
phleteer, that one finds in the writings of Godwin
and Proudhon, his sharpest critics. Malthus, how-
ever, though immovable in his principles, was
considerate and good-natured to his opponents,
who had no difficulty in obtaining control of pub-
lic opinion at his expense. —II. STATEMENT of
THE PRINCIPLE OF POPULATION. — Doctrine of
Malthºus. This doctrine is stated, as we have
said, in his “Essay on the Principle of Popula-
tion.” After having formulated, in his two cele-
brated propositions, the law of the development
of population and that of the increase of food,
this illustrious economist verifies it by means of
the history and statistics of ancient and modern
peoples, and shows by what checks the growth of
population has been arrested. At the same time
he points out the dangers, both to private families
and to Society in general, arising from a miscon-
ception of these laws, and shows by what means
the evils may be avoided which have resulted and
still result from the improvidence in which the
greater part of mankind have lived and do live.
These laws of the increase in the number of hu-
man beings and of the means of subsistence, and
these means of obviating the evils he points out,
are what he has called the “principle of popula-
tion.” The evils he sums up as “vice” and “mis-
ery.” The remedy he proposes, and which is one
of the forms of foresight, he calls “moral re-
straint.” To show the importance of this means,
Malthus was led to discuss the value of the doc-
trines put forth the latter part of the last century
and the beginning of the present one, on popula-
tion and the means of raising it to a better ma-
terial and moral condition, as well as the checks
to its excessive growth. He then examines the
social theories which had then appeared; among
others, those of Godwin and Owen, Condorcet's
theory of indefinite progress, the efficacy of emi-
gration, and the effects and dangers of charity.
In treating of the latter subject, Malthus makes a
profound criticism of the poor laws, and is led to
an examination of the question so much agitated
in our times, of the right to employment and the
right to state aid. — Statement of the two proposi-
tions. In the first pages of his book, after stating
a few facts and considerations corroborated in the
course of the work, Malthus says: “It may safely
be pronounced, therefore, that population, when
unchecked, goes on doubling itself every twenty-
five years, or increases in a geometrical ratio.”
(7th ed., p. 4, London, 1872.) “It may be fairly
pronounced, therefore, that, considering the pres-
ent average state of the earth, the means of Sub-
sistence, under circumstances the most favorable
to human industry, could not possibly increase
ſaster tlian in an arithmetical ratio.” (Ibid., p. 5.)
Translating these two laws into figures, Malthus
adds, a little further on: “The human species
would increase as the numbers 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32,
64, 128, 256; and subsistence as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,
8, 9. In two centuries the population would be,
to the means of subsistence, as 256 to 9,” etc.
(Ibid., p. 6.) — These propositions are true, if not
literally, at least approximately. And here we
will anticipate certain objections, less serious than
is generally supposed, by observing that Malthus,
in using a geometrical progression to express the
increase of population, and an arithmetical pro-
gression to represent the increase in means of Sub-
sistence, meant nothing more than to express a
tendency. Some persons did not thus understand
Him, but their dissertations in reference to the
matter lead to false conclusions.—The first propo-
sition demonstrated by the ºncrease of the population
of the United States, and conformable to the laws of
mature. Near the close of the last century, when
Malthus began to write, Dr. Price stated, that,
according to data examined by himself, in certain
parts of North America, the period of doubling
the population was fifteen years. (“Price's Ob-
servations,” vol. i., p. 282, and vol. ii., p. 260.)
He supported this statement by Some extracts
from a sermon by JDr. Hyles, who had found, in
1748, that the period of doubling was twenty-five
years in Rhode Island, taken as a whole, and
twenty and fifteen years in certain districts in the
286
POPULATION.
interior of that state. The period was twenty
years in the county of Kent, and eighteen years
in Providence county. Euler had constructed a
table based on statistics taken from the registers
of births and deaths, according to which the
doubling had taken place in less than thirteen
years. W. Petty had advanced the opinion, that,
under particularly favorable circumstances, a pop-
ulation might double in ten years. Malthus, re-
lying on these three authorities and the United
States Census, thought he was safe from exaggera-
tion in Saying, that, when population is not arrest-
ed in its growth from any cause, it goes on doub-
ling every twenty-five years, thus increasing from
period to period in geometrical progression. If
the fact of doubling in twenty-five years, inde-
pendently of immigration, had been once proven,
science would be justified in adopting a posterior;
the assertion of Malthus.--We have now valuable
statistics on this subject in the decennial census
of the United States, covering nearly four times
the Malthusian period of twenty-five years. In
1790 the United States were free, and organized
under one general government. They have con-
tinued to live under the same government. The
civil war is the only important event which has
put a serious check upon the natural course of
things. Moreover, the United States, not having
yet attained the limits of disposable land and sub-
sistence, have continued to obey the law indicated
by the census previous to this century, and which
served Malthus as a starting point. We have here
one of the most remarkable facts in regard to
population, a fact remarkable both for its clear-
ness and its continuity. According to the official
census statistics, the progress of population has
been, in round numbers, as follows:
Inhabitants. Inhabitants.
In 1782---------- 2,389,000 In 1840----------- 17,069,000
‘ 1790---------- 3,929,000 ‘‘ 1850----------- 23,192,000
‘‘ 1800 - - - - - - - * -- 5,308,000 “ 1860----------- 31,443,000
“ 1810---------- ,240,0 “ 1870----------- 38,558,000
‘‘ 1820 --------- 9,634,000 “ 1880----------- 50,156,000
“ 1830---------- 12,866,000
If from the population of 1850, we deduct that
of the then newly annexed territory, including
Texas, New Mexico, Utah and California (166,000
persons in all, a large part of whom, however,
were immigrants from the United States), we
have remaining a population of 22,990,000 for
that year. If we divide the population of 1840
by that of 1790, we find that the population more
than quadrupled in these fifty years. Dividing
that of 1850 by that of 1800, we find the popula-
tion quadrupled in the first two periods of twenty-
five years in this century. Taking, in like man-
ner, the fifty-year periods from 1810 to 1860, 1820
to 1870, and 1830 to 1880, we find the population
more than quadrupled in all but the last period,
and very nearly quadrupled in that. Comparing
periods of ten years, we find that the population
had increased—
35 per cent. from 1790 to 1800 35% percent. from 1840 to 1850
; º 1800 to 1810 354. “ { {
º 1850 to 1860
1810 to 1820 22 3-5 “ & &
334. & & & 4
1860 to 1870
- 1820 to 1830 30 { % ‘‘ 1870 to 1880
32; “ ** 1830 to 1840
The Smaller per cent. of increase between 1860.
and 1870 was a result of the civil war. — When
we examine the census of the individual states,
we find several in which the increase has varied
greatly from the above rates. The population of
the state of New York increased more than seven-
fold in the fifty years from 1790 to 1840, and has
more than doubled from 1840 to 1880. The pop-
ulation of Ohio more than tripled from 1820 to
1850. It had previously increased more than
twelve-fold from 1800 to 1820; but this was largely
the result of immigration from other states. Penn-
sylvania quadrupled her population in the fifty
years from 1790 to 1840, and has little more than
doubled it from 1840 to 1880. That of Virginia
did not double in the fifty years from 1790 to
1840, and (including West Virginia) has barely
doubled in the sixty years from 1820 to 1880. —
The statistics previously given of the general pop-
ulation show, however, that the ratio given by
Malthus, which he had based on the increase ob-
served in the second half of the last century, con-
tinues to express the facts during the present cent-
ury, and over a wider area of territory. — But,
aside from the results of the census, we might have
conceived this ratio a priori, as many economists
have shown. J. B. Say reasons on the subject as
follows: “If we leave out of account all the
causes which limit the increase of the human race,
we find that a man and woman, married as soon as
they are mature, may easily have at least a dozen
children. * * Experience, indeed, shows us
that about half of those who are born die before
the age of twenty-six. Consequently, if each
couple can not rear twelve children who will have
progeny, they can rear six as capable of increase
as themselves. Hence we may conclude, that, if
there were no check to this increase, the popula-
tion of any country would be tripled at the end of
twenty-six years.” Rossi accepts Malthus’ ratio,
and adds: “This is easily demonstrated. When-
ever you have several products, each with a re-
productive power equal to that of the producer,
you will necessarily have a more or less rapid geo-
metrical progression. If one produces two, and
these have each the same productive power as the
first, the two will produce four, the four eight,
and so on. Abstractly speaking, Malthus an-
nounced an indisputable principle, as true in
regard to man as it is with animals and plants.
Obstacles not being taken into account, it is evi-
dent that at the end of a certain number of years,
the earth would be covered with men, as it is
certain that the entire soil would be soon covered
with wheat, and the ocean filled with fishes, if
nothing checked the reproductive power of each
grain of wheat and each fish.” The observations
of naturalists support Rossi's statement. A single
plant of Indian corn produces 2,000 seeds, a Sun-
flower 4,000, the poppy 32,000, an elm 100,000.
A carp spawns 340,000 eggs. It has been Calcu-
lated that one henbane plant would cover the
earth in four years, and that two herrings would
fill the sea in ten years, if the Ocean covered the
POPULATION.
287
whole earth, were there no check to their increase.
— Objections drawn from Čmmigration &nd the ea:-
ceptional case presented by the United States. At-
tacks more animated than serious have been made
upon Malthus’ first proposition, which is one of
the principal foundations of his argument. God-
win, among others, went so far as to maintain
that the exceptionally large increase of population
in the United States must be attributed entirely
to immigration. We will consider the untenabil-
ity of this position. Up to 1783 war and various
other circumstances hindered immigration, and
took from the United States more persons than
Europe added to the population. The immigra-
tion occasioned by the French Revolution was
soon interrupted by the war of 1793; and from
that time to the peace of 1815 but few immigrants
came from Europe, and these almost exclusively
from England. These facts are obtained from the
“Statistical Annals of the Uuited States,” by Dr.
Adam Seybert, of Philadelphia, and are based on
official documents from 1780 to 1818. (Seybert's
valuable work was published in Philadelphia in
the latter year, and a copy may now be found in
the Astor library, New York.-Translator.) Dr.
Seybert states there, that the immigrants came prin-
cipally from Great Britain, Ireland and Germany;
that in 1794 there was a strong tendency in Great
Britain to emigrate to the United States, which,
however, had been restrained by acts of the British
government; that in 1794, according to Cooper,
the number of immigrants had been 10,000; and
that in 1806 Mr. Blodgett had stated, that, ac-
cording to the records and estimates most worthy
of credence, the annual average for the ten years
preceding 1806 had not exceeded 4,000. Admit-
ting that, in 1794, 10,000 foreigners landed in the
United States, Dr. Seybert did not admit that they
arrived in as great numbers during any of the
preceding or subsequent years up to 1817; and, in
view of the facts he had been able to obtain, he
arrived at the conclusion that the number of im-
migrants who settled in the United States from
1790 to 1810 could not have exceeded 6,000 an-
nually, on the average. The official records pub-
lished in England of passengers to America, are
confirmatory of Dr. Seybert's conclusion, or, where
they differ from it, differ only by making the
numbers less. Even were we to admit an annual
immigration of 10,000 persons, we should still fall
far short of the number necessary to explain the
rapid increase of population in the United States.
Hence the term of twenty-five years, assigned by
Malthus for doubling the population by procrea-
tion alone, is far from being exaggerated. — This
testimony has also the confirmation of Mr.
Warden (a former United States consul and cor-
respondent of the Institut de France), who was a
careful collector of all statistics pertaining to the
United States. In his opinion, the population
of the United States had doubled in every twen-
ty-one years, and the immigrants, in 1820, had
not exceeded an annual average of 4,000. Now,
4,000 immigrants could not have produced more
than 84,000 inhabitants; and yet the population
increased 5,000,000 in the twenty-one years up to
1820. — Inasmuch as, prior to 1820, no statistics
of immigration were officially kept in all the ports
of the United States, we will admit that the rec-
ords of passengers landed in the ports of the
Union previous to 1820 were inaccurate, and in
several places negligently kept: we will also leave
out of account those returning to Europe, or who
passed over into Canada; and we will suppose,
that, instead of 4,000 immigrants a year, there
were double, triple or even quadruple that num-
ber: the marriages, during this period of twenty-
one years, must, nevertheless, have given an in-
crease of 4,500,000, so that even this exaggerated
immigration would not have added more than
from 150,000 to 300,000 new inhabitants. – From
1820 to 1856, although a record was kept of all
foreign-born persons arriving in the ports of
the United States, no separate account was made
of those who came to remain permanently ; of
those, that is, to whom the term immigrants would
now be applied. To obtain the number of this
class of persons during the decennial periods from
1790 to 1840, a calculation was made (which ap-
peared both in the “British Review,” and in vol.
xxiii. of the Revue des Economistes), according to
the following method pointed out by Godwin.
The children under ten years of age were sub-
tracted from each general census, for the reason
that all the children who, e. g., at the census of
1830, had not attained the age of ten years, were
born since 1820, and belonged to the natural in-
crease by means of birth. The difference was
taken between this number of children and the
increase of population indicated by the census;
and this difference was considered to be the num-
ber of foreign immigrants. In this way it was
calculated that there must have been 160,000 im-
migrants from 1790 to 1800, 229,000 from 1800 to
1810; 312,000 from 1810 to 1820; 494,000 from
1820 to 1830; and 862,000 from 1830 to 1840 :
making a total, in fifty years; of about 2,000,000.
Admitting this estimate as correct, the total pop-
ulation, nevertheless, increased from 1790 to 1840
from nearly 4,000,000 to more than 17,000,000.
Admitting, also, that 862,000 settled in the United
States from 1830 to 1840, the population had in-
creased in that period from 12,866,020 to 17,069,453,
an increase of 4,203,433, or of 3,341,433 after de-
ducting the number of immigrants; that is to say,
an increase of nearly 26 per cent. — Since 1856 a
separate record has been required to be kept, by
|United States collectors of customs, of all foreign-
born passengers arriving in their respective dis-
tricts, who have come to the United States to settle
here, and a quarterly return of the same is made
to the United States treasury department. From
these tables we learn that the total immigration of
settlers from June 30, 1869, to June 30, 1879, was
2,742,137 persons. The total increase of popula-
tion, as indicated by the census, from 1870 to
1880, was 11,597,412. If from this number we
deduct the above number of immigrants, we have
288
POPULATION.
left 8,855,275 persons, as the increase exclusive of
immigration, an increase of about 23 per cent.
This calculation, however, does not leave out of
account (as it should do in order to exhibit accu-
rately the natural increase of population) such of
the children of these immigrants as were born in
the United States between 1870 and 1880, nor of
the immigrants themselves during the same time;
nor have we yet the statistics for a just estimate
of this matter. It is to be hoped, however, that
the completed census of 1880, when published, will
furnish the desired data. The above given per
cent. is, consequently, in excess of the ratio of
increase from births alone. — Since, however, the
conditions of the population of the United States
have changed since Malthus wrote, and there are
now obstacles to its increase which did not then
exist, we deem ourselves authorized to conclude,
from the above given data, that Malthus was
within the limits of truth in estimating that any
population would double in a quarter of a century,
if there were no obstacle in the way of its increase.
He did not say that population in fact doubles in
that period. On the contrary, he said the fact
was not manifest; and he sought to ascertain the
checks by which this increase was prevented. —
Proposition second, relating to subsistence. The
second proposition of Malthus amounts to Saying
that subsistence has a tendency to increase less
rapidly than population. Its demonstration re-
sults from a Comparison of the ease with which
families may multiply, and the difficulty with
which harvests are obtained. But few considera-
tions need be presented to make this apparent. —
First, it must be remarked that cultivated land, that
which yields the means of subsistence, is limited;
that it produces only by the aid of capital, which
is limited, and is obtained only through difficulty
and sacrifices; that it is only by the aid of capital,
hard labor, and time, that people succeed in ren-
dering these lands productive and maintain their
productiveness. This power of the earth becomes,
in fact, quickly exhausted; and in a few years
the soil would refuse all return, if rotation of
crops, fertilizers and fallowing did not renew its
strength. Now, rotation of crops, fertilizers,
drainage, and improvements of any kind, imply
capital; and fallowing implies cessation of pro-
duction. Suppose we grant the wholly inadmis-
sible hypothesis, that capital can increase as rap-
idly as population, it might be said, that, in agri-
culture, though every increase of labor and capital
increases the product, this increase of product is
not in the ratio of the increase of labor and capi-
tal. Let us suppose, that in consequence of well-
directed improvements, the product is doubled
within a certain time; can it be supposed, that, by
doubling the outlay in another like period of
time, the product can be again doubled, and SO
on continually? Would any agriculturist reply
in the affirmative 2–III. CONTINUATION OF THE
ExPOSITION OF THE PRINCIPLE OF POPULATION.
— Consequences of the two propositions. Obstacles
in the way of the increase of population in a geomet-
Yical ratio. Evidently, then, population and sub-
sistence do not follow the same principle. The
course of the one tends naturally to become accel-
erated; that of the other is much less, and tends
to come retarded, and to vary more and more
from the former, in long-settled countries which
are wholly occupied. In other words, the pro-
ductive power of man to increase his species is
greater than that to increase his means of subsist-
ence. Hence, wherever both kinds of reproduction
take place without any obstacle being voluntarily
interposed by man, population is always pressed
for means of subsistence, and the balance between
the two is only maintained by physical evil or
death. — This energy of the principle of popula-
tion, added to the wants inherent in our nature,
is, then, a powerful spur to the human race, who
must make a constant appeal to all their intel-
Hectual, moral and physical faculties to avoid be-
ing overtaken by the pangs of hunger and by
other privations. Since it incites the species to
gradual increase, and since, on the other hand,
this same species is endowed with faculties sus-
ceptible of development and an ambition to better
its condition, the law of increase results in prog-
ress when it is maintained within certain bounds,
and is a cause of unhappiness and destruction
when arrested by no constraining influence. —
This being granted, let us ascertain by what checks
the force of these two principles has been and can
be counteracted. The checks are of two kinds,
and of an opposite nature. One class prevents
births, and the other produces premature deaths.
The former checks are preventive, and the latter
'repressive. Malthus called the latter positive checks.
This term, however, is not a good one, and may
lead to confusion, for the checks which prevent
population are as positive as those which cause its
destruction. Among the checks to the increase
of population through the action of its principle,
are the insalubrity of localities inhabited; the un-
cleanliness of dwellings, or their insufficient shel-
ter; the lack of suitable clothing and hygienic
care; unwholesome or insufficient food; irregular
habits; the abuse of tobacco, strong drink and
other irritants; famines, and industrial and finan-
cial panics, the effects of which are felt for many
years; war, which entails the waste of a vast
amount of capital, the devastation of crops, and
diminished agricultural production; diminution
of labor, and false economic measures; anxieties
and moral sufferings; and abortion, and even in-
fanticide, terrible means which are more frequently
employed than is generally supposed. Most of
these causes produce epidemics, or render them
more fatal, prevent the proper development of
children, weaken the faculties of maturer years,
and cause a considerable mortality, which counter-
balances the effects of reproduction. Malthus
comprehended them all in his expression, “vice
and poverty,” which he regarded as by turns
cause and effect of each other, and as shortening
human life. — Preventive checks belong to two
quite distinct classes, one of which comprehends
POPULATION.
289
those which result from vice, and the other those
which come from the exercise of reason. Those
caused by vice are: debauchery, promiscuity of
the sexes, and prostitution, which destroy fecun-
dity; polygamy, which acts in the same direction,
as is shown by the statistics of the people of ori-
ental countries;* slavery, which acts both as a
repressive check, in consequence of the bad treat-
ment of slaves, and as a preventive check, by
trampling on the family sentiment. — Preventive
checks of a different kind are all those prudential
considerations which lead men to defer marriage
or to limit their number of children to their means
of supporting and educating them. These checks
have at all times contributed more or less to retard
the increase of population. It would be impos-
sible to tell precisely to what extent they have
acted, but it is not unlikely that their action has,
from time to time, been extended or restricted
concurrently with certain moral influences which
have given direction to the minds of mankind. —
Among the number of checks to the increase of
population at a given point, Malthus omitted to
mention emigration. This may exceed immigra-
tion, and may in part (much less, however, than
is generally supposed) neutralize the effects of the
increase of the poorer classes. Malthus, however,
discusses this question in speaking of the means
proposed to remedy excess of population. Emi-
gration, in fact, has only existed in a marked
degree in recent times, since the improvements in
maritime communication; and it had not, in his
day, been an important check to the increase of
continental population in Europe. Two brilliant
writers, Louis Reybaud, in the Journal des Econ-
omistes, and Blanqui, in his charming “History
of Political Economy,” in explaining the doctrines
of Malthus, have rightly said that emigration has
rendered immense service to the civilization and
industry of all nations. They find the fears of
Malthus chimerical, and his law sufficiently coun-
teracted; and they count on emigration to main-
tain the equilibrium. But, without denying the
civilizing effects of emigration, what we desire to
know is, whether it has proved a sufficient check
to population in the past, and will prove sufficient
in the future. This subject we shall examine far-
ther on. — Malthus has also been accused of having
omitted to take into account the happy effects of
increased wealth and of the industrial and eco-
nomic progress which produce it. Now, with
wealth, it is said, and the remark is just, the
fecundity of families diminishes. Whence this
consoling result would follow, that civilization is
at once remedy and check to the evil capable of
arising from the principle of population. Malthus
did not ignore this fact. — The effects of wealth in
retarding the growth of population were long ago
observed, and it was noticed that rich families
(save numerous exceptions) have a tendency to
propagate less than poor families. But what is
the cause of this phenomenon? Does competency
diminish the fecundity of people? or is it rather
better adapted than want and misery to increase
morality, forethought and parental dignity, and
to render people more fitted to exercise their free
will, and more capable of prudence in marriage?
It is evident that the tranquil life of a well-to-do
couple is far more favorable to healthful reproduc-
tion, to pregnancy, and to the cares which early
childhood demands, than is a life of destitution.
There may be as many births among the poorer
classes; but, other things being equal, death will
take his victims more frequently from the abodes
of poverty and wretchedness. – The check arising
from competence brings us naturally to the doc-
trine of the plethoric check, or fatness, which is an
exaggerated form of it, advanced by Fourier, and
also presented by Doubleday, in his book entitled
“The True Law of Population shown to be con-
nected with the Food of the People.” Double-
day’s doctrine may be summed up as follows: 1,
when animal or vegetable species are threatencó.
with death from insufficiency of nutritious food,
nature makes a supreme effort, and increases
their prolific power, and gives them an impulse
which is checked only when proper nourishment
is again afforded; 2, when these species receive
food luxurious in kind, or excessive in amount,
they pass to the plethoric or sterile condition, and
reproduction is assisted or altogether ceases; 3,
if the individuals are moderately fed, and their
food is not luxurious in kind, the generative prin-
ciple acts wisely, the race is continued, but does
not increase; 4, when ill-fed species are brought
into union with others whose food has been abun-
dant and strengthening, the balance is at once re-
stored: the increase of the former compensates
for the decrease of the latter, and the race re-
mains stationary. — Doubleday and Fourier are
not contradicted on the subject of plethoric races:
but, on the subject of the relative fecundity of
races which live moderately, physical anthropol-
ogy would, we think, have more than one reser-
vation to make. Willermé (Journal des Economis-
tes, November, 1843) earnestly combated this
theory of Doubleday by arguments based on
facts, in a report to the French academy of polit-
ical and moral sciences. A consideration of the
arguments drawn from natural history would
* According to Niebuhr, monogamous marriages resulted
in more children than polygamous. Volney stated (Voyage
dans la Turquie, vol. ii., p. 445), that married men in Turkey
were frequently impotent at the age of thirty. Roscher (vol.
ii., p. 300, Amer. translation) says: “Polygamy, also, is a
hindrance to the increase of population. Abstract physi-
ology must indeed admit that a man may, even without
any danger to his health, generate more children than a
woman can bear. But, in fact, the simultaneous enjoyment
of several women leads to excess and Garly exhaustion.
* * In the civilized countries of the east the polygamy of
the great may lead to the compulsory celibacy of the many
in the lower classes, as a species of compensation. The
monstrous institution of eunuchism, which has existed time
out of mind in the east, is a consequence of this condition of
things, as well as of the natural jealousy of the harem.”
The reader will find much of value in Roscher's chapters
on “Population,” and their copious notes.—Translator.
138 VOL. III. — 19
t Roscher (Polit. Econ., vol. ii., p. 287, foot notes) quotes
the “Edinburgh Review "" and other authorities to the con-
trary.—Translator.
290
POPULATION.
unduly extend the limits of this article: so we
refrain from recapitulating them. — Let us now
consider the objections offered against the theory
of checks limiting population. In the first place,
it has been denied that repressive or preventive
checks have acted or do act. A sufficient answer
to this objection is a statement of the facts of an-
cient and modern history, and the reports of trav-
elers, and these are confirmed by geography and
statistics. Malthus devoted a part of his work
to a consideration of these facts, and every one
can complete his argument by observations of
his own. It is an indisputable fact that men die
more or less rapidly according to the places where
they reside, their conditions of existence, their oc-
cupations, and the classes to which they belong.
In France it has been observed that rich or well.
to-do men, from forty to forty-five years old, die
at the rate of .85 of 1 per cent. annually; but that
men of the same age who are poor and needy die
at the rate of 1.87 per cent., that is to say, two
and a fifth times as many of the poor die. In the
British colonies there was a time in which negro
slaves died in the proportion of one to six an-
nually, and free negroes in the proportion of one
to thirty-three: that is, five and a half times as
many slaves died. In Paris, from 1817 to 1836,
One inhabitant in fifteen died in the twelfth arron-
dissement, which was peopled mostly by the
poor; and one inhabitant in sixty-five in the Sec-
ond, occupied by a different class. At Manches-
ter, Eng., the average of life in certain districts
was formerly only seventeen years, while in oth-
ers it was forty-two. There are places and occu-
pations in which children are reared more suc-
cessfully, and in which more old men are found,
than in others. What do these facts prove, if not
that there are places, districts, occupations, class-
es and families in which men die prematurely,
and in consequence of the causes pointed out by
Malthus? If this is the case, can we deny that it
would have been better if the greater part of
these men, especially those who die in childhood
and youth, had never been born, since they came
into the world only to suffer, and to occasion suf-
fering and privation directly to their families, and
indirectly to society? — In investigating the ques-
tion of population, there is need to take large ac-
count of the difference of localities, Occupations
and social conditions. For lack of knowledge of
these, statistics are of comparatively little value.
Present communities are the resultants of an in-
finite number of causes, and if they are consid-
ered as a whole, no proper judgment can be
formed of the changes which take place in them.
Take, for instance, the tables of the mortality in
cities in the United States in 1880. We perceive,
that in that year the city of Yonkers, N. Y., had
14.3 deaths to 1,000 inhabitants, and that Savan-
nah, Ga., had 32.6 in 1,000. Before we can form
a just judgment in regard to the comparative Sa-
lubrity of these two cities, we must know their
location, atmospheric conditions, drainage, the
social condition of their inhabitants, their charac-
lation.
ter, age, and many other circumstances. Again,
there are certain departments in France in which
the population has actually diminished for many
successive years, but before we can base any judg-
ment of value in reference to this fact, we must
know certain other facts, among which are the
loss by war and by emigration, and how much of
the decrease is due to intemperance and other
vices, how much to destitution, how much to
disease, how much to heredity, sanitary condi-
tions and other causes. Then we might form
some proper estimate of the measure of decrease
resulting from prudence, and be able to judge
whether or not there was a failure of what Mal-
thus called the ‘‘principle of population.” —
Another objection is made, based on the price of
cereals. From the stability of the price, the con-
clusion is drawn that progress in agriculture has
kept and will keep pace with the growth of popu-
M. Passy, a French authority who inves-
tigated this question about thirty years ago, at-
tributed the steadiness of the price of grain for
the fifty years from 1797 to 1847 to the improve-
ments in agriculture. On examining the prices
of wheat (as given in Spofford's American Alma-
nac for 1882, p. 102) from 1825 to 1880 inclusive,
Ż. e., for fifty-six years, we find twenty-six years
in which the price was higher than in 1880, and
twenty-nine years in which it was less. Many
elements, however, are always to be considered
in connection with prices, among which are short
crops in our own or in other countries, wars at
home or abroad, cost of transportation, and other
causes which affect supply or vary demand, not
the least of which is the value, i. e., the purchas-
ing power, of money: and as there is no way of
determining, otherwise than approximately, the
amount of effect from each of these various
causes, it is impossible to say to what degree the
prices have been affected by them, or whether
wheat, if we consider only the causes which are
constant in their action, tends to increase or di-
minish in price. This, however, we do know,
that some classes of the population have, at all
periods of which history gives us information,
experienced at times the repressive check of a
lack of sufficient nutritive food; and we might, a
priori, conclude, that if the world continues to be
populated increasingly, the time must eventually
come, when, with all conceivable facilities for the
production and transportation of food, not enough
of the latter could be produced (for lack of room)
to afford nourishment to all the inhabitants. That
time is, however, in a future so remote that the
question of population, as presented by Malthus,
derives its chief practical value from the motives to
prudence it presents, rather than from the danger it
threatens of increase of population beyond means
of subsistence. — Another objection to Malthus'
doctrine has been drawn from the advantages and
productive resources which a population finds in
its own density, or, in other words, from the ben-
efits civilization derives from an increase in the
number of men. Mr. Everett, of Boston (author
POPULATION.
291
of “New Ideas on Population ”), and Henry
Carey, of Philadelphia, in particular, reproached
Malthus with not having taken sufficient account
of this density of population. Mr. Carey stated
that increase of population is accompanied by an
increase in the quantity of products, and an in-
crease in the share of the laborers in that increased
quantity; and, finally, that the doctrine of Mal-
thus is false and dangerous, since he makes asser-
tions which might arouse bad feeling in the
masses. Let us say, in the first place, that the
doctrine of Malthus can not be held responsible
for the bad feeling of the masses misled by false
assertions; and that, in any case, the feelings of
the masses can not be regarded as the criterion of
Scientific truth. We will next say, that, as a gen-
eral fact, it may be true that increase of popula-
tion leads to facility of association, and the latter
to increase of wealth; but, for Mr. Carey to be
right, the capital needed by the population must
also necessarily always increase in like ratio with
production and facility of association. Moreover,
the wealth produced must always be sufficient for
the increasing population; for, as Bastiat says,
(Harmonies Economiques, 2d ed., 1851, p. 427),
“if, as wealth increases, the number of men among
whom it is divided increases still more, the abso-
lute wealth may be greater, and individual wealth
less.” Finally, this wealth must comprise a suffi-
cient quantity of the means of subsistence. Then
alone would the counsels of Malthus and the wis-
dom and forethought of the heads of families be
unnecessary, without, however, being dangerous;
for there is never danger in preaching prudence
to the poor, destroying their illusions, and enlight-
ening them in regard to anti-social rights. Things
have taken place, as Mr. Carey says, in several
parts of the United States, and they may take
place again in various states of this new country,
and in Some localities in Europe even; but we can
not admit that this is the general expression of
constant and universal facts. – Bastiat thought
that Malthus did not take sufficient account of the
progressive principle of the human race, perfect:-
bility. In virtue of this principle, he said, man
sees his wants increase. When the natural wants
are satisfied, others arise which habit renders mat-
ural in their turn; and this habit, which has so
appropriately been called second nature, perform-
ing the functions of valves in the human system,
interposes an obstacle to any retrograde step.
Consequently the intelligent and moral restraint
he exercises over his own propagation, is affected
and inspired by these efforts, and combines with
his progressive habits. The first inference which
M. Bastiat draws from this view of the matter, is,
that in proportion as people become accustomed
to Superior means of subsistence, or to more means
of living, to use the broader expression of Mr.
Tracy and of J. B. Say, forethought is stimulated,
the moral and preventive check neutralizes more
and more the brutal. and repressive check, and
better living and forethought engender each other.
Bastiat's second inference is, that in critical times,
people may sacrifice many enjoyments before en-
Croaching On their food, or may even come down
from food of the first quality to that which is in-
ferior. “It is not so,” he says, “in China or in
Ireland. When men have nothing in the world
but a little rice or potatoes, with what will they
buy other food if this rice and these potatoes
fail?” A third inference is, that an intelligent
man may make an unlimited use of the preventive
check. “He is perfectible,” says Bastiat; “he
aspires to improvement; deterioration is repug.
nant to him ; progress is his normal condition.
Progress implies a more or less enlightened use of .
the preventive check: consequently, the means of
existence will increase more rapidly than popula-
tion. If it were true, as Malthus says, that to
each excess of the means of subsistence, corre-
sponds a greater excess of population, the poverty
of our race would be fatally progressive, civiliza-
tion would be at the beginning, and barbarism at
the end, of time. . The contrary is true : conse-
quently the law of limitation has had sufficient
power to restrict the increase of men below that
of products.”— Our first remark upon this is, that
all that Bastiat says before his conclusion, and
which appears to us perfectly correct, is found
here and there in Malthus’ work. Our second
remark is, that it is a gratuitous assumption of
Bastiat that Malthus advanced the idea that to
each excess of means of subsistence there corre-
sponds a greater excess of population. Malthus
did say that such a correspondence might easily
arise from the law of human propagation, but that
it could be avoided by the preventive check; and
he composed his work only to point out the dan-
gers of that correspondence and the advantages of
men using their limitative faculties, which are the
more efficacious the more an appeal is made to rea-
son. — One word in reference to the two conclu-
sions. Bastiat claims that, in the past, the increase
of mankind has been restrained by forethought.
This opinion, which he elsewhere more than once
himself contradicts, would be more consoling than
that of Malthus, who attributes the greater influ.
ence to the action of repressive and preventive
checks of a bad kind. But an assertion is not a
demonstration; and the demonstration, by means
of history, geography and statistics, is found in
the work of Malthus. Bastiat also claims that
the means of subsistence increase faster than pop-
ulation; but as he supposes this to be by the action
of foresight, he juggles, so to speak, with the dif.
ficulty, solving the question by the question. If
he had said or had meant that the means of sub-
sistence might, by the aid of foresight, or, as he
calls it, of the preventive limitation, increase more
rapidly than population, he would have simply
formulated the desideratum of the problem of
population, the very end that Malthus, and all
those who treated the question after him, had in
view. —IV. MEANS OR REMEDIES PROPOSED TO
COUNTERBALANCE THE PRINCIPLE OF POPULA-
TION. — Moral restraint and forethought. The
various checks to the increase of population are
292
POPULATION.
so many means of counterbalancing this principle;
but all, with the exception of forethought, are Out-
side of our present discussion. We will, however,
mention the grossest charge brought against Mal-
thus. Some have asserted, and others repeated,
that Malthus counseled prostitution and debauch-
ery as a remedy for the evils that might result
from a disproportion between the quantity of
subsistence and the number of people; or again,
that not only did he not deplore, but that he even
desired, the action of these repressive checks. To
serious men the mere mention of such nonsense is
its sufficient answer. There are, however, frequent
traces of these absurdities in the ideas Current
conterning Malthus and his doctrines.—The check
to the principle of population which Malthus
recommends, in order to avoid the great number
of deaths resulting from the action of repressive
checks, is prudence in marriage, which he calls
“moral restraint.” The substance of his doctrine
is in the advice of that father who instructs his
children to take the greatest care to proportion
the number of their children to their means for
supporting them. “Do not marry,” he says,
“and have children, except when you can Sup-
port them. Remember that your family have no
other support than you, and that those causes
which have rendered dormant your judgment and
your forethought will be powerless to extricate
you from the misery into which you will fall, by
which you will be continually exposed to become
the prey of evils and vices which drive genera-
tions of men to the grave.”— Malthus discussed
in detail the various improvements which might
ameliorate the condition of the needy classes, and,
after having considered their bearing, repeated
and reinforced his advice with much power in an
appendix, which forms the fifth part of his work.
In this appendix, after having again confuted the
principal objections made to his ideas, he summed
up his doctrines. – Certain publicists, Sismondi
among others, admitting the tendency of popula-
tion to outrun the limits of Subsistence, proclaimed
the fatality of this condition of things, and the
inutility of the remedy. Malthus did not fall into
such an error. He thought it possible to prevent
births; for man is intelligent and free; he can an-
ticipate the evil, and avoid the danger when he
knows it. It is because of not having read Mal-
thus thoroughly, or of having forgotten what he
wrote, that people have brought such charges
against him: for he took much pains to show the
efficacy of the remedy as well as the reality of
the danger: he, in fact, spared no effort to show
how pauperism could be prevented. —The prin-
ciple of moral restraint, or, the preventive check,
which finds expression in abstinence and late mar-
riages, has been accused of being aristocratic, con-
trary to the teachings of the gospel, and ineffica-
cious. Is it to be considered aristocratic, because
it recognizes that people of wealth or competence
can rear larger families? The reproach is ill-
founded. The happiness of parents depends not
so much on the number as on the health and well-
prosper.”
being of their children; and from this point of
view it is better not to have children than to see
them deprived of the necessities of life. In the
second place, to recommend to poor people not to
take upon themselves the cares of married life too
early, is to exhort them to an abstention which
will enable them to have a family under better
conditions, and one not too numerous, and will
also help them not to create too great a competi-
tion, and, consequently, to be more independent.
Considered in this light, the advice of Malthus is
essentially democratic. As to the religious aspect
of the question, we would say that Crescite et
'multiplica/mºnº is not an exhortation to incessant
procreation: it is rather a benediction. We con-
sider its true significance to be: “Increase and
But, in order to prosper, we must use
freedom, reason and forethought, those qualities
in which man is superior to a quadruped Or to an
oviparous animal. This is not alone the idea of
Malthus, although he was himself a minister of
the gospel; it is also that of St. Paul, who, in ad-
vising the Corinthians of the imprudence of mar-
rying in those troublous times, says: “Such shall
have tribulation in the flesh: and I would spare
you.” — The charge of inefficacy seems better
founded; because, in the first place, conjugal
unions, though late, may be very prolific, and the
more so because of being late, since the parties
may be in a better condition for having a well-
constituted progeny; secondly, because it would
seem that celibacy for an entire life should be
only exceptional; and thirdly, because there seem
to be people to whom chastity or entire abstention
seems impossible. So we are led to say that fore-
thought not only means late marriages, and celib-
acy for those who can live thus, but also pru-
dence in marriage. Malthus did not in very ex-
plicit terms include this prudence in what he
called moral restraint, but it is evident that he im-
plied it. — By late marriages we must then under-
stand those in which the contracting parties wait
for the capital or the employment needed, in order
to provide for the wants of a family, rather than
marriages from which young people are excluded;
for experience shows that men who marry early
lead more regular lives, and this prevents illegiti-
mate births. These marriages, however, must be
prudently conducted, in order to avoid misery.
If the begetting of children is a chief object in
marriage, a no less evident object is the care for
these same children, that from the moment of con-
ception to the time when they can support them-
selves, they should have the necessary means of
existence, in material and hygienic respects, as
well as in intellectual and moral ones. Conse-
quently, parents are wanting in the foremost and
most indispensable of their duties, if they have
more children than they can support, properly
educate, and have taught some occupation which
will at least provide them with the necessaries of
life. It is certainly incumbent on parents to ex-
ercise the will in this matter more than in any
other, and to act as intelligent, moral and respon-
POPULATION.
293
sible beings. – Will a man be immoral, if, wish-
ing to have only a limited number of children,
proportionate to his means and the future his
affection dreams of for them, he nevertheless
does not, with this object in view, devote him-
self to the most rigorous and unconditional absti-
nence? It is useless to discuss this question,
and we shall merely appeal to every enlightened
conscience to say whether it is more moral, more
in conformity with the sense of human right,
to bring children into the world in the midst of
privations, than to prevent their existence. —
Some have claimed (Proudhon among others), that
in the latter case, lack of affection is added to lack
of bread. We are unable to see that this is the
case, when the number of children of poor people
is restricted because of prudence and foresight.
The contrary seems to us evidently true. Nor
are we able to comprehend how prudence will lead,
as some assert, to the suppression of marriage and
the debauchery of youth. Is it not a legitimate
effect of prudence to render the marriage state
more prosperous and attractive? and does not ex-
perience prove that a lack of foresight is one of
the causes of concubinage and demoralization,
either through violation of the marriage covenant,
or in consequence of the culpable heedlessness
which leads people to render themselves liable to
have a family without undertaking to support one?
— There is also another point of view which
should not be disregarded. It is that marriage,
apart from the consideration of a family, may be
regarded as a most natural partnership for mutual
aid. From this point of view, marriage is far from
being a superfluous institution. We will not speak
of abuse of pleasures of sense, Save to say that
improvident unions are not exactly those which
are most exempt from it. Finally, far from weak-
ening the social bond, ideas of forethought, pru-
dence and responsibility seem to us to tend to
strengthen the family principle, and likewise that
of property. Young people are more encouraged
to marry by the example of prosperous and well-
conducted households, than by those suffering the
pangs of wretchedness. – But this conjugal fore-
thought is amenable to morals and to hygiene,
both of which are, from their respective points of
view, in accord in prescribing to the head of a
family respect for his life companion. Maajima
debetwr sponsa, reveremºtia is a precept which per-
haps is not given its due prominence in the con-
fidential education which a father owes his son
when he has attained years of discretion and as-
pires to have a family of his own. This respect
can not be too thoroughly instilled into the minds
of all classes of society, especially of those ad-
dicted to intenperate indulgence in the pleasures
of the table and to intoxicating drinks. Excesses
of all kinds, and particularly in the matter of
drink, have a great part in the miseries of this
world; they make men lose the feeling of self-
respect, and the sense of their duty to their fam-
ilies; they stifle the voice of reason; they neutral-
ize all domestic forethought; they bring on de-
spondency, quickly followed by a weakening of
the mainsprings of morality. — Having reached
this point in our discussion, it seems unnecessary
to reply to the two following sophisms. We are
told that we ought not to deprive the poor of the
only pleasure which nature has given them, and
that if the poor have more children, it is because
Providence wills it so, to counterbalance the de-
bauchery of the rich. Strange means for Provi-
dence to take, to punish some for the fault of
others, which fault, besides, is much exaggerated!
Must we repeat that the children of the needy die
sooner and more frequently, and that when they
arrive, they fill no deficiency 7 — We will now
conclude this important part of our subject by
repeating that to labor and good conduct every
man should add foresight in all its forms, includ-
ing that prudence which will render him extremely
careful to avoid having a family more numerous
than comports with the resources his industry fur-
nishes. This is the principal means upon which
men may reasonably rely, because it is at their
disposal: it is also the only really efficacious means,
as we shall see on making a rapid review of the
other means proposed as remedies to the force of
the principle of population. — V. OTHER MEANs
PROPOSED TO COUNTERBALANCE THE PRINCIPLE
OF POPULATION. — Plan of Dr. Loudon. Strange
means proposed by Fowrier, Pierre Leroua, Marcus,
Greek philosophers, etc. Dr. Loudon, a doctor of
medicine and an inspector of factory children in
England, deriving the suggestion from natural
history and physiology, thought he had found a
solution of the problem of population and sub-
sistence in the plan of having infants suckled for
three years, and the contrariety of function be-
tween the breasts and the uterus. (“Solution of
the Problem of Population and Subsistence.” 2
vols., 1842.) He calculated that with the nursing
period thus prolonged, a woman could not give
birth to more than three or four children. Were
we to admit Dr. Loudon’s premises (which, by
the way, are much disputed), it is easy to see that
families might still become large, and exceed the
limits of their resources. A woman might still
give birth to eight or more children. Conse-
quently, there would always be reason for com-
mending foresight to heads of families, even with
triennial nursing, admitting the latter to be prac-
ticable for the industrial and agricultural classes.*
We now ask pardon of our readers for introduc-
* According to Dr. P. H. Chevasse, a child should not be
nursed more than nine months; and he quotes Dr. Archer
Farr as follows: “It is generally recognized that the heal-
thiest children are those weaned at nine months complete.
Prolonged nursing hurts both child and mother: in the
child, causing a tendency to brain disease, probably through
disordered digestion and nutrition; in the mother, causing a
strong tendency to deafness and blindness.” Dr. Chevasse
adds: “If he be suckled after he be twelve months old, he
is generally pale, flabby, unhealthy and rickety, and the
mother is usually nervous, emaciated and hysterical. * *
A child nursed beyond twelve months is very apt, if he
should live, to be knock-kneed, and bow-legged, and Weak-
ankled, to be narrow-chested and chicken-breasted.”—
Translator.
294
POPULATION.
ing the following theories: Fourier calculated
that with work carried on according to his system
of association, land would yield a “four-fold
product,” i. e., there would be four times the
present produce, if men combined in phalansteries
and worked in the ways he describes; but, after
having uttered these words of hope, he calls at-
tention to the fact that population would soon
again reach the limit of subsistence, in its future
social condition. In this his views correspond
with those of Malthus; but he holds in contempt
this corypheus of “economism,” who could find
nothing but forethought as a remedy for excess of
population, which excess Fourier would remedy
by means far more efficacious. His methods are:
1, the complete exercise of all the passions, and
attractive labor, to divert the sexes from the act of
procreation; 2, gastrosophy, or the science of feed-
ing wisely and acquiring a stoutness little adapted
to that act; 3, the vigor of the women, which, in
his opinion, was in inverse ratio to their fecun-
dity; 4, the customs of the society he dreams of,
which he calls phanerogamic, which are to produce
effects analogous to those of the polygamy prac-
ticed in oriental countries, and the polyandry and
polygyny found among civilized peoples. We
will make no other comment here, than to say that
the teaching of forethought was treated by Fourier
and his disciples as immoral! and that, on the
other hand, Leroux (Lettres sur le Fourierisme, par
M. Pierre Leroux, in the Revue Sociale), and Proud-
hon (Avertissement awa, propriétaires, by M. Proud-
hon, pamphlet, 1841), rendered severe justice to
the monstrosities of Fourier. But Pierre Leroux
did not confine himself to criticism: he, too had a
theory on population. He called it the circulus,
and meant by this word the principle in virtue of
which every man produces sufficient fertilizing
material for his subsistence! But Leroux does
not state how agriculture must go to work to feed
the human race from this source. He also makes
the customary attack on Malthus and the Econo-
mists. (Malthus et les Economistes, 1 vol., 16mo.)
As to Proudhon, after having both attacked Mal-
thus and confuted the arguments of the latter’s
opponents, he ended by arriving at nearly the
same conclusions as did Malthus; so that the most
ardent Malthusian would cheerfully indorse many
eloquent pages of his book. (Contradictions Econ-
omiques, 1846, 2d vol., p. 453.) But this Only ap-
plies to the matter in some studies published by
this writer in 1846. Later, in 1848, when the right
of labor to employment was discussed in the na-
tional assembly, Proudhon wrote a very caustic
pamphlet (Representant du Peuple, Aug. 10, 1848;
republished by Garnier Frères), aimed at the oppo.
ments of this right, whom he called Malthusians.
This writing, full of censurable misstatements
and arguments made for the occasion, was merely
the work of a political writer, and is not worth
discussion as of Scientific value. (See Journal des
Economistes, of March, 1849, article by Du Puy-
node on “Malthus and Socialism,” also a dis-
course by Michel Chevalier on “Political Economy
and Socialism.”) — But to continue the account of
singular methods. A German writer, Weinhold,
a town councillor in Saxony, proposed, some fifty
years ago, to prevent a surplus population by the
same means employed by the Roman Catholic
churches in Europe to obtain a certain quality of
voices for their choirs, and by the Turks to secure
faithful guardians for their wives. (De l'eacês de
population dams l’Europe centrale, Halle, 1827.)
Another writer, an Englishman of great celebrity,
(so says Rossi) whose name we do not venture to
give, since he was unwilling it should be made
public, but who wrote under the mom de plume of
Marcus, proposed to prevent a surplus population.
by asphyxiating newly-born infants with carbonic
acid. Was this work that of a mind diseased? Or
could its object have been to caricature Malthus?
Neither would seem to be the case, for its tone
and style are serious. But, however this may be,
the traducers of Malthus took it up, and, because
of the resemblance between the two names, Cast
renewed reproach on the doctrines of the author
of the “Essay on the Principle of Population,”
to whom the ignorant attributed the travesty by
Marcus. – Nor are these all. Proudhon has re-
vealed to us the process of a certain Dr. G. . . , ,
who proposes “the extraction of the foetus and
the extirpation of germs that had found lodgment
contrary to the intention of the parents,” and one
or two other means which we will not mention.
(Contradictions Economiques, vol. ii., 1846, p. 453.)
—Is not the mere mention of such ideas their
sufficient refutation, and enough to clear from
responsibility for them the worthy, humane and
reasonable man who wrote on the “Principle of
Population ”? It is of little use to-day to compare
the eccentricities of our times with the ideas of
the Greek philosophers on this subject; but we
will cite a few of the latter taken from Montes-
quieu. (Esprit des Lois, book xxiii., chap. 17.)
“The policy of the Greeks had particularly in
view the regulation of the number of citizens.
Plato wished procreation to be checked or encour-
aged, when necessary, by honors, shame, and the
admonitions of the elders. He even wished
(‘Laws,’ book v.) the number of marriages might
be regulated in such a way as to maintain the pop-
ulation, without having the republic overstocked.
‘If the law of the country,’ says Aristotle (“Pol-
itics,’ book vii., chap. 16), ‘prohibits the exposure
of infants, it will be necessary to limit the number
of children which each man may beget.” When
people have more children than the law allows,
he recommends abortion before the foetus has life.
The infamous means employed by the Cretans are
mentioned by Aristotle; but modesty would be
shocked were Ito describe them.”— VI. OTHER
METHODS PROPOSED TO COUNTERBALANCE THE
FORCE OF THE PRINCIPLE OF POPULATION.—
Prohibition of marriage and immigration. Political
changes in the form of government. Remodeling
Society, and a better distribution of its products.
Emigration. Charity. Economic réforms and ag-
ricultural and industrial progress. We are glad
POPULATION.
295
to arrive at the discussion of more serious meth-
ods. These are very many. It has been proposed
to restrict the liberty to marry, and to prohibit
immigration into countries where an excess of
population is manifest. It has also been main-
tained that if a population suffered from its density,
this was due either to a bad form of government,
a bad organization of society, or in particular to
a vicious distribution of the social revenues; and
people have consequently come to believe that
some other form of government, Some especial
method of reorganizing Society, or some socialis-
tic system, would have power to correct these
evils. The adequacy of emigration and coloniza-
tion has been maintained: the extension of char-
itable measures has been advocated as a sufficient
solution of the problem: and finally, it has been
contended that it would be enough to create eco-
nomic and financial reforms, or to cause an in-
crease of production in all the activities of society;
and that, in consequence of such a course, there
would be no reason for concern about the power
of the principle of population and its results.
The discussion of most of these questions would
furnish material for volumes; but the elucidation
of our subject does not require us to enter into
them at length here. — It is said that restriction
of the liberty to marry has at times been demanded
and introduced in the legislation of certain German
states. Without examining here the principles of
justice and equality which oppose this restriction,
we will simply say that measures of this kind
would be wholly ineffectual, either because of
promoting illegitimate births or of interposing but
a slight obstacle to legitimate ones. It is as wrong
to prohibit people from marrying as to offer re-
wards for large families.
freedom in forming this alliance, and the contract-
ing parties should be wholly responsible for its
results; and customs, we think, will be found
more efficacious than laws in this matter. — On
the subject of immigration, Destutt de Tracy,
(Traité d’Economie Politique, 1825, p. 244) has given
utterance to the following opinion: “Immigration
is always useless and even harmful, unless it be
that of a few men who introduce new ideas: but, in
this case, their knowledge, and not their persons,
is what is of value; and such men are never very
numerous. Immigration may be prohibited with-
out injustice,” though this is a subject to which
governments have never given due consideration.
Nor have they often given many reasons for desir
* Roscher, in his chapter on “Temporary Emigration,”
thinks such emigration would be a great national misfor-
tune to the country from which the immigrants obtain their
wages, inasmuch as its working class may thus be forced to
a lower standard of living; and he queries whether the im-
migration of Chinese into Australia and the United States
may not have a like result. In Australia a fine of £10 per
capita was imposed to prevent such immigration. Recently
(1882) the United States has passed restrictive laws in this
regard. Even J. S. Mill, at the time when the national life
of the English people seemed threatened by the immigration
of Irish laborers, would have had no hesitation in prohibit-
ing this immigration, so as to keep the economic contagion
from spreading to English workmen, -Translator.
There should be entire.
ing immigration.” Destutt de Tracy is right in
Some respects; but he has perhaps taken too little
account of the moral, economic and providential
advantages of immigration. It is well and useful
for the various nations of the globe to come in
contact with one another, to mingle together and
to know something of one another's interests; it
is advantageous for races to cross; and all the re-
sults of such intermingling can only be attained
by emigration. Still, it is evident that certain
immigrations have the effect to lower wages and
deprive those people among whom the emigrants
settle, of a part of the advantages their foresight
gave them; but, in any case, the advantage always
remains on the side of the prudent man. We
here see the solidarity of nations, and that all na-
tions have a common interest in helping one an-
other to become moral by the example of good
habits. We think with Malthus that there should
be freedom of immigration; but we will say that
restriction would be more easily justified in this
case than in that of products. When the Parisian
populace demanded, in 1848, the departure of the
foreign operatives, they were barbarous, but log-
ical; and we remember that the protectionist
school at that time had some difficulty in explain-
ing, through its press, how those who opposed
competition in labor were less right than those
who opposed competition in provisions and other
products. However, prohibition of immigration
would not be sufficient to counteract the force of
the principle of population.—Godwin, and many
publicists before and after him, maintained that
the fate of populations depended chiefly on the
nature and form of the government, and on the
good will and ability of those in power. This is a
great and deplorable error, has given rise to many
revolutions, and has been a partial cause of most
of the political changes in France since 1789, to
the great detriment of society. All political par-
ties who wish to come into power, take advantage
of this error; and when they have attained their
end, it is useless for them to advocate the opposite
doctrine: their opponents take up the same argu-
ments, and the people listen to them. —“The
greatest danger, perhaps, of modern times,” said
the president of the French republic in 1849, ad-
dressing the exhibitors of industrial products,
“arises from the false idea which has taken hold
of people's minds, that a government can do
everything, or that it is in the essence of any
system to answer every requirement, to remedy
every evil.” This belief, entertained without due
consideration, was combated by Malthus, and his
ideas as a whole are in accord with the Sentiments
of almost all economists since Quesnay. Malthus
doubtless spoke in hyperbole when he said that
the evils arising from a bad government, Com-
pared with those produced by the passions of
men, were but as feathers floating on the Water;
but there is no such exaggeration in the Spirit of
his book. We can but acknowledge that bad
governments may do much injury to a people,
may ruin, and, what is worse, demoralize them;
296
POPULATION.
still, experience shows that the action of the best
government should be limited to guaranteeing
security and justice, and superintending certain
public services which can not, as advantageously,
be left to private industry; and if, in the exercise
of this supreme and natural function, good gov-
ernments may be of great utility to civilization,
they are, nevertheless, wholly powerless to bring
about the happiness of the citizens, who are the
only agents of their own fortunes, their own com-
petence, and their own social position. — This
fundamental error, shown to be such by all eco-
nomic studies, has engendered all socialistic doc-
trines properly so called, and all those which,
without having this term applied to them, are
connected more or less logically with the same
principle, which is the principle of communism:
such as the absorption of private activity and re-
sponsibility into governmental action; the trans-
formation of citizens into employés, and of private
industries into society workshops; a system which
leads to the conception of the existence of Organ-
ized society where there is no distinction of meum
et tww.m., that is, to a radical transformation of the
human race. — Admitting the hypothesis that any
one of these systems is practicable, and has been
put in practice, and that it secured the happiness
of the people living under it, such a system (as
Fourier himself would be the first to acknowl-
edge), far from checking the power of the prin-
ciple of population, would surely be its promoter,
acting in this like the combined physical and
moral conditions which exist in North America.
Consequently, although the errors of these sys-
tems may be easily proven, those who are liable
to become the victims of such illusions should be
especially warned to follow the counsels of wis-
dom and foresight.—In view of the facts we must
admit that emigration is not likely to relieve a
country of any considerable portion of its popula-
tion; that, whatever the amount of the emigration
may be, it is more than counterbalanced by the
natural increase in numbers. Molinari estimated
that the tide of human beings from Europe to the
new world in 1850 might be half a million. This
was due to the following causes: the already con-
firmed tendency of the people of Germany and
England to leave their country; the monetary
pressure of 1846–7; improved means of traveling;
and the discovery of gold mines in California and
Australia. But who does not see, that, admitting
the permanence of this current, the emigration is
but a small fraction in comparison with the in-
crease by births in Europe? Let us consider, in
the second place, that emigration is an exporta-
tion of capital and labor; that the exportation of
capital is a cause of misery to the country aban-
doned; that those who leave their native land are
the more enterprising and industrious, and their
departure is for this reason another cause of de-
generation and poverty to their country. Fi-
nally, let us consider that the emigration of needy
classes often turns to their disadvantage; and
consequently, instead of saying to them, “In-
crease without consideration of the results,” it
is more humane, more charitable, more Chris-
tian, to say: “It is better not to increase your
families than to bring them up in privation, and
take them to distant lands to perish.” One school
(a numerous one) thinks the solution of the prob-
lem of population lies in the development of
public and private charity. In reply to this, the
economic School, especially Malthus, and those
writers who have been occupied with philanthrop-
ic questions, call attention to the serious difficul-
ties resulting both to society and to the needy
classes, from ill-directed charity. “If care is not
taken, the person aided or relieved becomes accus-
tomed to seek alms, his feeling of dignity is
blunted, the spring of his morality is weakened,
and he slips rapidly down to vice, which, in its
turn, augments his poverty. He then becomes
selfish, thoughtless of the future of his children, as
well as of that of his unfortunate companion, and
even of his own, intemperate, incapable of the
least restraint, and at last even sometimes insensible
to the loss of his little ones, from the care of whom
death delivers him, and for whom he well knows
the loss of a lot like his own is not to be deplored.”
Montesquieu (Esprit des Lois, book xxiii., chap.
11) had already said: “People who have abso-
lutely nothing, like beggars, have many children,
who are born supplied with the implements needed
for that art.”—These effects are notably produced
by official and public charity, which, to those
assisted, easily takes the matter-of-course charac-
ter of public dues. These people, being at least
as, ignorant as other men, do not see that what
they receive often comes from the pockets of peo-
ple as miserable as they, and that it is diminished
by all the charges paid to tax collectors and ad-
ministrators, through whose hands the money
passes. Hence we see that public charity demands
intelligent superintendence by the public author-
ities, and that the unfortunate should not be able
to count upon it, save in exceptional cases, and
then temporarily; that the greater number of them
can not experience its good effects, and that it
would be the greatest of wrongs for them to count
upon it to bring up their families and improve
their condition. The greatest aid a state, county
or town could give, would not be worth one hour's
labor daily, or one degree more of activity, morality
and foresight in the family. —If public charity is
inadequate, private charity is still more so. Few
men seem naturally inclined to share with their
fellow-men, and the sublime precepts of the gospel
seem to be neither practicable nor practiced save
by a small number of elect souls, or by a greater
number of persons in quite exceptional cases where
human sympathy is excited to an unwonted degree.
Berenger spoke reasonably, when, presiding over
a benevolent society, he said that charity is a sen-
timent which must be continually aroused by new
demonstrations, by the attraction of pleasures, by
the allurements offered to vanity, so to speak; and
finally, that it procures but ephemeral resources:
that if it were otherwise, as men are constituted,
POPULATION.
297
some would take advantage of the Self-sacrifice
of others, and would be the more improvident,
indolent and intermperate, because they could
count on the aid of their more sober and indus-
trious brethren. This is the difficulty with which
all communistic associations have to contend.
Nothing is simpler in theory than to say: “Let
us live like brethren”; nothing is more difficult
in practice. This, then, is another illusion which
it is both useful and charitable to dispel in the
needy classes, who must be repeatedly taught
that they can only find the means of improving
their condition in themselves, and that they should
endeavor to be charitable in their turn, and not
live at the expense of their fellow-citizens. This
subject admits of lengthy discussion. We shall
not treat of it here, but will simply refer the read-
er to the article CHARITY, with the conclusions
of which we are in accord. — It was with similar
ideas that Malthus approached this great question
of charity; he was led to make a profound study
of charitable institutions in general, and nota-
bly of the poor tax in England. This tax his crit-
ics caused to be very considerably modified for
the better, in 1834. In the course of his treatment
of this extensive subject, Malthus found in his
way the doctrine of the right of the poor to aid;
which was maintained by several publicists of the
last century, was included in the French consti-
tution of 1791 and of 1793, proclaimed again by
the socialistic schools, under the names of right
to employment, right to assistance, right to live,
and right to a minimum of wages, and again em-
bodied in the French constitution of 1848, and
is invoked from time to time by all who desire to
flatter the passions and prejudices of the populace.
We will not dwell longer on this question, but
will recall the fact that it was in connection with
this subject that Malthus used the phrase which
served as a text for most of the declamations
against him. This phrase was suppressed in his
second edition, but it was taken up by Godwin,
and used thousands of times by the opponents of
Malthus, who represented it as the foundation of
his system. “The socialists,” says Bastiat (Har-
monies Economâques, 2d ed., 1854, p. 424), “re-
peat it to Satiety; Pierre Leroux repeats it in a
little 18mo volume at least forty times; it affords
a theme for declamation to all second-class re-
formers.” Here it is: ‘‘ A man born into a world
already full, if his family can no longer support
him, or if society can not utilize his labor, has not
the least right to demand any portion whatever
of food, and is really superfluous on the earth.
There is no place for him at the great banquet of
nature. Nature orders him to withdraw, and she
delays not to put this order into execution.” The
first phrase simply denies the right to employment
and to existence. This is not the one which has
been most criticised. The second is a rhetorical
figure, quite affected and useless, since the idea
expressed by it is found again in the third; and
this last, it must be said, was neither accurate nor
in conformity with the ideas of so excellent a man
as Malthus. Malthus did not mean to tell one
who has not a family able to support him, or
whose labor can not be utilized by society, to
depart, but to convey to him, in the most positive
and most peremptory, in the most frank and true
manner, that he has naught to expect save from
the kindness of his fellow-men, from whom he
has no rights to demand, and nothing to exact,
under penalty of dissolving society. He meant
to say to heads of families and all who help in-
crease the human race, that the limits of charity
are very restricted, and that miseries and suffer-
ings are not slow in shortening the days of those
whose services society can not buy, or, which
amounts to the same thing, who can not render it
useful service. — We do not mean that this truth
is not really distressing, and that it should not
astound those who have cherished the illusion
that by means of emigration, the cultivation of
waste lands, the common use of potatoes, econom-
ical soups, or any other means devised by com-
pulsory philanthropy or credulous policy, we
might be relieved from uneasiness in regard to the
increase of unfortunates; but it should be clearly
recognized that if this condition of things is alarm-
ing, Malthus did not invent it nor counsel it: he
simply showed its existence, and warned heads of
families in regard to it, as well as others who help
increase the human race out of proportion to their
means of labor. It is nature, and not Malthus,
that placed human beings on the verge of a preci-
pice, and yet this unfortunate scholar is held re-
sponsible; much as if a sentinel should be pun-
ished for his cry of alarm, in warning of impend-
ing danger! — We desired to quote this passage,
because it has a scientific and historic interest,
and because it has been said that Malthus shrank
from facing his own work. Malthus, far from
retracting his statement, reproduced the same
idea in another passage in his last edition, in speak-
ing of the liberty which he desires shall be left to
the father of a family, at his risk and peril. Mal-
thus always manifested a good disposition in his
writings; but he never allowed himself to be
turned aside, even by injustice, from what he be-
lieved to be the truth; for his calmness, his self-
possession, his courtesy toward opponents (who
were far from reciprocating it) were truly remark-
able. I might cite here many respectable author-
ities in support of the opinions of Malthus; but I
will only quote Bastiat, whom some have repre-
sented as against him. Bastiat wrote in 1844 (in a
pamphlet on the “Assessment of the Land Tax in
Landes,” p. 25): “The doctrine of Malthus has
been attacked of late ; he has been accused of
being gloomy and discouraging. Doubtless it
would be a happy thing, if the means of subsist-
ence could diminish and even disappear, without
mankind being the worse fed, clothed, lodged and
cared for in infancy, old age and sickness. But
this is not the fact, nor is it possible: it is even
contradictory. I can not understand the Outcry
of which Malthus has been the object. What has
this celebrated economist revealed? His system
298
POPULATION.
is, after all, but a methodical commentary on this
very old and evident truth: When men can no
longer produce a sufficient quantity of such things
as support life, they must diminish in numbers;
and if prudence and foresight do not provide
these things, suffering must ensue.” This is, in
other words, the very proposition which brought
so much reproach on Malthus, most of whose
opinions were shared by Bastiat in his Harmonies,
who, nevertheless, erroneously reproaches him on
some points. – We now arrive at the last category
of methods enumerated, and the one to which, as
we acknowledge, we attribute the greatest efficacy.
Economists are the first to maintain that the Sup-
pression of abuses and monopolies, the repeal of
bad legislative or reglementary measures, that all
economic and financial reforms, may, by produc-
ing a cessation of the causes of impoverishment
and misery, revive labor,"bring competence to a
population subjected to a bad government, and
with competence, morality and instruction, and
with morality, foresight. They aim to find the
means of increasing capital, the conditions under
which land, capital and labor may be more pro-
ductive, and the laws of distributive justice for
the apportionment of the social revenue. They
are the first to proclaim that when over-crowded
populations exist, the best means of either ame-
liorating their lot or of preventing the increase of
misery, consist in the development of labor and
the increase of capital, which raise wages. We
might dwell at length on this point; but we limit
ourselves to recalling the good effects of the
reforms in England, which have had so happy an
influence on the condition of the people of that
country, since they have resulted in obtaining for
them more food, clothing and other means of Sub-
sistence, which they have paid for with more and
better remunerated labor. Now, what does this
example prove? and what are we to conclude from
the remedies favored by economists to improve the
lot of the people, if not that legislators should
study into abuses and charge the government
with the responsibility of making them disappear?
But while waiting for the termination of these
abuses, so slow in becoming eradicated, while
waiting for these improvements, so tardy in arriv-
ing, generations are successively passing away,
and the need of counsels of prudence and fore-
sight continually exists.--Doubtless humanity has
progressed, through all its misfortunes, by its in-
herent attribute of perfectibility; doubtless the
arts of production in general, and of agricultural
production in particular, have continually dis-
tributed a larger share of comfort in the world;
doubtless men multiply on the face of the earth,
finding in their very numbers resources unknown
in countries sparsely populated: but all this in no
wise weakens the force of the principle of popu-
lation, the difficulty of procuring means of sub-
sistence, and the need of men depending first of
all on themselves, that is to say, on their own
activity, foresight and industry, for their support
and that of their families. –VII. CONCLUSION.
If we now attempt to formulate the fundamental
propositions we have set forth in this article, we
shall say: 1. Population has an organic tendency
to increase more rapidly than means of subsist-
ence. 2. In fact, every population is necessarily
limited by the extent of the means of subsistence.
3. But this limitation may be morally preventive
and dependent on the will of man, or physically
repressive through the suffering, misery and vice
which an excess of population entails, or which
arise from the disproportion between the number
of men and the capital which may give them em-
ployment. 4. The absence of the preventive
limitation of the number of children is prejudicial
to the interests of families and society, and, conse-
quently, to morals. – To these conclusions we add
the following, which embrace the principal points
of Mr. Thornton’s book on population (“Over-
Population and its Remedy,” London, 1846, 8vo):
5. A country is over-populated when part of the
inhabitants, although able bodied and capable of
labor, are permanently unable to earn a sufficiency
of the necessaries of life. 6. Over-population is.
generally produced by misery, the essential char-
acteristic of which is improvidence, which leads
to premature (and, we may add, to prolific) mar-
riages.* 7. By parity of reasoning, competence
checks the increase of population by giving those
who enjoy it a desire to retain it, and by conse-
quently opposing the inclination to marriage; and,
we may add, by causing prudence in the married.
8. In countries where population exceeds, not.
subsistence, but the resources of labor, or, to speak
more accurately, the capital which remunerates
labor, the inhabitants either live in poverty, or in
complete misery. In the former case, the popula-
tion increases with a rapidity which is not coun-
terbalanced for a greater or less time; in the lat-
ter, its progress is retarded by the mortality which
results from privation and suffering. 9. The
theory of Malthus is true, if not precisely as he
stated it, yet according to his general tenor. 10.
There are three circumstances which can restore
competence to a population a prey to misery:
emigration on a large scale; the ingrease of the
capital which remunerates labor, or an extended
market for products; and a fall in the price of
such things as are essential to life, in consequence
of trade being unrestricted, though the rate of
wages may be unchanged. 11. A good law in
regard to public aid, which shall provide that the
poor never receive, either in money or goods, more
than the minimum of wages earned by a work-
man; that aid at the workhouse be the rule, and
* Mr. Thornton’s language is as follows: “Misery, the in-
evitable effect and symptom of over-population, seems to be
likewise its principal promoter.” “Except when people
are placed in situations in which, being unable to estimate
correctly the amount of employment, they overrate their
means of subsistence; or, when Some political arrangement,
such as a charitable provision for the poor, encourages them
to get families around them which they can not themselves
maintain, it will, I think, be found that wherever population
has received an undue influence, the people have been first
rendered reckless by privation.”—Translator.
PORTUGAL.
299
home aid the exception; and the prevention of
the more disastrous effects of competition of
workmen, by maintaining a sufficient rate of
wages. This last conclusion has more especial
reference to England. — To these conclusions we
add the following: 12. People should not de-
pend on the power of political constitutions, on
plans for reorganizing society, or on the ephemeral
resources of charity, to counterbalance the effects
of the principle of increase. 13. Emigration,
improvement in agriculture, progress in the in-
dustrial arts, increase of capital, reforms and
economic progress may neutralize, to some extent,
the force of the principle of population; but their
good effects are produced more slowly than the
number of men increases. 14. Families should
rely, above all, on themselves, on their labor, their
conduct, their foresight, and especially their pru-
dence in the marriage relation. 15. The prin-
ciple of population, far from being an invincible
obstacle to the amelioration of the fate of the
masses, is, on the contrary, the leaven of progress,
when it is supported by the prudence of man.
16. It is for the interest of society that the peo-
ple be made acquainted with the actual facts, with
the condition of things such as they may be ac-
cording to the laws of nature, and such as polit-
ical economy, coming to the aid of morals, shows
them to be. This knowledge will lead people to
ask what is possible, and will enable them to
obtain, sooner or later, what is just. It will pro-
tect them against the moral epidemics caused by
those adventurers in the realm of thought, who
throw out upon the world a confused mixture of
truth and error; it will give form to those ideas of
wisdom and dignity, of order and foresight, with-
out which all conceivable improvements would be,
for the poorest classes in particular, and for soci-
ety in general, almost without object and without
significance. (The statistics in this article have
been brought down to date by the translator.)
(See CHARITY, COMPETITION, EMIGRATION, PAU-
PERISM, RENT, RIGHT TO EMPLOYMENT, WAGES,
WoRKMEN.) -
E. J. L., Tr. JOSEPH GARNIER.
PORTUGAL. A kingdom situated in the
southwest extremity of Europe and of the Iberian
peninsula, a sixth part of whose area it occupies.
Its extent is 83,162 square kilometres; the area of
the adjacent islands, Madeira and the Azores, is
1,725 square kilometres; the population was, ac-
cording to the census of 1864, 3,829,618 inhabitants
on the continent, and 358,792 in the adjacent
islands; in 1871 the total population was estimated
at 4,367,882 inhabitants.
census, in 1878, it was found to be 4,160,315 on the
continent, 259,800 on the Azores, and 130,584 on
Madeira and Porto Santo ; a total of 4,550,699.
The total population of the kingdom, leaving
the colonies out of consideration, was, in 1878,
4,745,124. Its colonies have an area of 1,322,099
Square kilometres and a population of 3,306,247,
according to the last official returns.—I. Constitu-
At the taking of the last ||
thon. At the beginning of the Portuguese mon-
archy public affairs were administered by the curia,
an assembly of the bishops and of the nobility. The
first written constitution is made to date back to
the statute of the cortes of Lamégo, which, in
1843, established, it is said, the independence of
Portugal and regulated the order of succession
to the throne. Portugal thenceforth, like Spain,
had cortes, composed of the clergy, the nobility
and deputies from the cities, who defended their
liberties against the kings. The Spanish domina-
tion silenced the cortes. The house of Braganza
constituted them consulting bodies. The govern-
ment ceased, in 1688, to ask them to vote the taxes.
After the war of independence maintained against
Napoleon I. by Spain and Portugal, the insurrec-
tionary juntas demanded the convocation of the
cortes. The king of Portugal had been obliged
to betake himself to Brazil, and the English gov-
erned the country which they had delivered. The
people rose up against English rule, and the cortes
proclaimed, in 1822, a constitution very like the
one which Spain had adopted in 1812, a constitu-
tion which recognized at once the sovereignty of
the people and authorized the exclusive exercise
of the Catholic religion. The laws were made
by one assembly only, without the concurrence of
the king. The king, on hearing this, returned to
Europe. The cortes refused to admit Brazil to
national representation. That vast country sepa-
rated from Portugal, and the eldest son of the
king, Don Pedro, who had remained there, was
declared emperor. Another son of the king, Don
Miguel, attempted in Portugal a counter-revolu-
tion with the aid of the troops; he had the minis-
ters arrested, and put his father under surveillance.
French intervention re-established the authority
of the king, who repealed the constitution, and
replaced it by the feudal charter attributed to
the cortes of Lamégo. At his death, in 1826, the
emperor of Brazil relinquished his rights to the
throne of Portugal, had his daughter Dona Maria
proclaimed queen of the latter, and gave Portugal
(April 12) about the same charter as that which
he had framed for Brazil. But Don Miguel, the
regent, overthrew the charter, had himself pro-
claimed legitimate and absolute monarch, and or-
dered arrests and executions, so that Don Pedro,
who had abdicated in Brazil in favor of his son, re-
turned to Portugal, re-established his daughter in
power and proclaimed his charter anew, Septem-
her, 1833. France, England and Spain guaran-
teed, a year later, by the treaty of the quadruple
alliance, the independence of Portugal, which
was not recognized till 1841, by the three powers
of the north. We shall not relate the military
insurrections which disturbed the new reign. The
constitution of 1822 was re-established in Septem-
ber, 1836, and the charter of Don Pedro in 1842.
But the insurrections continued. The most liberal
chartists averted the dangers of the country by
uniting with the Septembrists (the authors of the
revolution of 1836), and by consenting to modify
the charter. This union formed the progressist
30()
PORTUGAL.
party, called the regeneratory party. The sources
of public law are now the charter, Carta Constitu-
cional, of April 29, 1826, and the additional act,
acta adicional, of July 5, 1852. — The charter
distinguishes four powers: the legislative, the
“moderating,” the executive, and the judicial;
the first is exercised by the king and the cortes,
which has, like him, the right to propose laws.
The cortes makes the laws, and suspends the exe-
cution of them. The king sanctions the laws
or rejects them. The cortes is divided into two
chambers. The chamber of peers is composed of
the infantas, of the bishops, and of citizens nomi-
nated at will by the king; their dignity is hered-
itary. There are about 100 members, but their
number is not limited. The chamber of depu-
ties is composed of 149 members, elected for four
years. The session lasts three months. According
to the charter, they are selected by election of
two degrees. Those eligible for election and the
electors of each degree (in the province and com-
munes) were required to have an income of 400,
200 and 100 milreis respectively. The additional
act of 1852 established direct election by electors
aged twenty-one years (instead of twenty-five) and
lowered the property qualification of those eligi-
ble for election. A new electoral law of Nov. 23,
1859, exacted that the income, theretofore inde-
terminate, should be territorial, but it lowered it
10 per cent., and even 100 per cent., in favor of
the farming population, which renders suffrage
almost universal. It is sufficient to pay about six
francs or ten milreis of personal taxes or of taxes
upon the honararia in the municipal chambers or
in the benevolent corporations, or to be a tenant
of land paying five milreis of a land tax, etc.,
to be an elector. The professors of the higher
branches of instruction are electors, and eligible
without any qualification. The number of elect-
ors was, in 1872, 438,306; the number of those
eligible to office was 87,228. The same law of .
1859 divided Portugal into 165 electoral districts,
each of which appoints a deputy; but this number
was reduced to 107 by a law of 1869. The colonies
are represented in the chamber of deputies by
seven deputies. – Under the name of moderating
power, the charter places in the hands of the king,
the appointment of the peers, the extraordinary
convocation or prolongation of the cortes, the
dissolution of the chamber of deputies, the ap-
pointment or dismissal of ministers, the suspension
of magistrates in cases provided for by the con-
stitution, the exercise of the right of pardon and
of the mitigation of punishments, and the right of
amnesty. These prerogatives, which are found in
all constitutional monarchies, are those of kings
considered as mediators between the different
parts of the nation; this distinction, wholly theo-
retical, which forms the most original of the ele-
ments borrowed by Don Pedro from the ideal
constitution of Benjamin Constant, is found only
in the charters of Portugal and Brazil. — The
second power of the king is the executive power;
he exercises this through his ministers and with
the advice of the council of state, which is rather
a privy council, composed, when full, of thirteen
ordinary and three extraordinary members ap-
pointed for life, and whom the king also consults
when he wishes to make use of the governmental
or moderating power. The privy council in 1882
consisted of twelve members. The king can not
enter into any kind of concordat, agreement or
treaty without the consent of the cortes; the right
of declaring war and concluding a peace rests,
therefore, in the last resort, in the legislative as-
sembly. — The judicial power is exercised by in-
dependent magistrates and by juries.—The charter
guarantees to all citizens individual liberty, invio-
lability of domicile and secrecy of letters, the right
of petition and liberty of the press. But the ex-
ercise of all these liberties may be suspended by the
government or the assemblies, by virtue of the final
article of the charter, of which parties have made
the greatest use. All citizens are equal before
the law, without prejudice, however, to the titles
left to the nobility. The hierarchy of the nobility
comprises the grandeeship, the titled nobility and
the simple nobility of the fidalgos. The peerage
gives a right to grandeeship. Titles have been lav-
ishly bestowed, and the revolutionary nobility is
more numerous than the old nobility. A very great
part of the Portuguese soil is inalienable in the
hands of the nobility, descending with their titles;
hence the progressist party demand that it shall be
changed into allodial estates. – II. Administrative
Organization. The central administration is di-
vided between seven ministries and a financial
committee, the junta of public credit. The fol-
lowing are the names of the seven ministries: 1.
Foreign affairs; 2. Interior (provincial and com-
munal administration, police, health, charity, the
press, public instruction and fine arts); 3. Eccle-
siastical affairs and justice; 4. Public works,
commerce and agricultural and manufacturing
industry (created in 1852 after the triumph of the
progressists); 5. Finance; 6. War; 7. Marine,
and the colonies.—The administration and admin-
istrative law are regulated by a code promulgated
March 18, 1842. The kingdom is divided, accord-
ing to this code, into twenty-one districts, seven-
teen on the continent and four on the islands.
They are not quite so large as the French depart-
ments. The division into provinces (Estramadura,
Upper and Lower Beira, Minho, Tras os Montes,
Alemtejo and Algarve) has no interest except in
view of economic questions, whose study it fa-
cilitates, this division having rather to do with
the configuration of the country. The districts are
divided into 292 concelhas, or cantons, of which
twenty-nine are on the islands, and 3,960 fregue-
2ias, or parishes, of which 172 are on the islands.
Lach district is administered by a governor, each
canton by an administrator, or mayor, appointed
by the king. — In the chief town of each district
a general junta, composed of thirteen elected
procuradores, meets, and a district council, com.
posed of the civil governor as president and four
councilors appointed by the king upon the propo.
*
*
|PORTUGAL.
301
sition of the junta. In the chief place of each
commune there is a municipal chamber, composed
of from five to twelve vereadores and a municipal
council of from five to twelve vogaes. The cham-
ber presents the budget to the junta of the district,
and directs electoral operations; the council ad-
ministers and deliberates with the chamber upon
the more important interests of the commune.
The administrator has only a consulting voice. In
each parish there is a local junta, composed of the
church wardens and of the leading men, presided
Over by the priest of the parish, which regulates
the employment of the revenues applied to the
expenses of building churches, of worship and of
works of charity; a regedor executes the orders of
the junta relative to police matters, and represents
the parish before the council of the commune.
The king can dissolve the chambers of the districts
and of the communes; the governor, that of the
parishes. – The duties of police are fulfilled in
each parish by the regedor and certain police
guards of the middle class of the place; at Lisbon
and Oporto, by a municipal guard and by special
police corps. The surveillance of the practice of
medicine and of the public health is confided to a
board of health. — III. Fºrmances. The adminis-
tration of the finances is divided between the
ministry and the junta of public credit, a com-
mittee charged with the consolidated debt, and
composed of five members, one of whom is ap-
pointed by the king; the others are elected, one
by the chamber of peers, one by the chamber of
deputies, and two by the holders of the bonds
representing the debt. — The taxes are voted for
one year, and the sums voted for each item of ex-
pense can not be otherwise applied without a
Special law. The transfers from one account to
another are voted in the same way, by decree,
with the advice of the council of ministers. —
The government may open supplementary and
extraordinary credits, with the advice of the
council of state. There is always a deficit in the
finances of Portugal. In 1872–3 it was 3,000,000
milreis; the budget of 1873–4 estimated it at
1,054,000 milreis. The causes of the deficit are
of long standing and numerous. (See note.)
These causes may be set down as follows: under
the old régime, emigration to the colonies, the
African and Asiatic wars, the donations to the
clergy, the hereditary pensions of the nobility,
the exemptions from taxes, and the great landed
estates; since the granting of the charter, the
issues of paper money, the loans, the division of
the goods of the clergy among too large a num-
ber of patriots, and political troubles. – Various
measures have been taken to arrest the deficit. 1.
The salaries of all functionaries were reduced.
The civil list did not escape this reduction, and
the crown surrenders every year to the state
nearly a third of its revenues. 2. The liquida-
tion of the foreign debt was suspended. 3. As-
sured pensions are only given to magistrates and
professors; the other functionaries receive pen-
Sions only when the treasury has funds on hand.
A distinction is made between pensions of consid-
eration and of non-consideration; the first are paid
regularly. 4. An unpopular tax was put upon
corn and flour, which has provoked many out-
breaks without accomplishing the desired result.
— The collection of the taxes rests upon very
many inextricable bases, certain taxes being local,
others general; some are collected directly by the
state, others farmed out; some subject to the
previous deductions of various corporations; a
great number are burdened by hypothecation,
often divided among various creditors; almost all
are complicated by accessory duties and additional
hundredths of the monetary unit. A great num-
ber, temporarily established, have become perma-
ment. These complications multiply the expenses
of the administration of the taxes and the diffi-
culties of control. —The following are the receipts
and expenditures for the years mentioned, in
milreis :
YEARS. Receipts. Expenditures.
Milreis. Milreis.
1860–1861------------------ 11,982,580 14,096,950
1861–1862 ----------------- 13,301,512 14,393,702
1862–1863------------------ 14,830,415 15,744,520
1863–1864------------------ 15,371,266 16,910,354
1864–1865------------------ 19,536,747 19,536,745
1865–1866------------------ 20,732,357 20,836,363
1866–1867 ------------------ 15,989,378 21,018,049
1867–1868------------------ 16,884,419 22,695,979
1869–1870------------------ 15,616,096 21,115,460
1871–1872------------------ 18,464,394 20,870,629
The following are the list and figures of the va-
rious direct, faxes for 1873–4. The whole of the
receipts was estimated at 23,164,104 milreis.
Milreis.
Land taxes --------------------------------------- 3,045,395
Sumptuary taxes--------------------------------- 117,040
Taxes on rent------------------------------------ 304,920
Industrial taxes----------------------------------- 1,235,220
Bank taxes--------------------------------------- 147,000
Taxes on the interest on capitals------------------ 235,950
Taxes on pardons, etc.---------------------------- 154,240
University registration---------------------------- 190,710
Taxes on mines----------------------------------- 31,500
Various taxes------------------------------------- 205,244
Stamps, etc.-------------------------------------- 1,987,000
Licenses (sale of tobacco)------------------------ 41,500
3 per cent of debts------------------------------ 38,000
Miscellaneous taxes ------------------------------ 264,354
The following is a table of the indirect taxes
for 1873–4 :
Milreis.
Duties on imports--------------------------------- 5,182,700
Duties on exports--------------------------------- 165,600
Duties on re-exportations------------------------- 34,350
Complemental duties---------------------------- - 320,000
Duties on tonnage, Sanatory taxes, Ctc.------------ 138,664
Duties on consumption at OportO and Lisbon----- 1,460,300
Duties on tobacco--------------------------------
Duties on railway transit-------------------------- 58,500
Duties on fish and cereals------------------------- 162,000
Duties on Wine and meat.------- ---------------- 1,306,000
Postoffice----------------------------------------- 511,000
Telegraphs --------------------------------------- 62,100
Railroads of the South and Southeast -------------- 427,600
National printing office and official journal-------- 116,000
Total ----------------------------------------- 10,231,814
302
PORTUGAL.
Ordinary expenditures— Milreis.
Domestic consolidated debt----------------------- 6,222,620
Foreign consolidated debt------------------------ 3,347,889
Ministry of finances------------------------------ 3,645,078
Ministry of the interior - - ----------------------- 1,852,251
Ministry of justice and ecclesiastical affairs ------- 522,728
Ministry of War----------------------------------- 3,406,022
Ministry of marine and the colonies-------------- 1,084,860
Ministry of foreign affairs------------------------ 247,977
Ministry of public works------------------------- 1,252,186
Total --------------------------------------- 21,581,611
Extraordinary expenditures----------------------- 1,325,380
Total expenditures---------------------------- 22,906,991
(See note.) In the expenditures of the ministry
of finance are comprised the civil list and the
appanages, 612,000 milreis ; the cortes, 92,000;
the debts to be borne by the treasury, 929,110;
pensions, 447,468; customs duties, 633,921; mint
and stamps, 30,732; general administration,
'757,531. — The expenses of the ministry of pub-
lic works comprise: administration, 579,174 mil-
reis; roads, 170,000; railways, 22,835; telegraphs
and lighthouses, 143,200; postoffice, 314,530; for-
ests, 48,282. (See note.) The object of the ex-
traordinary expenditures is also public works
(roads, railways, ports). — The following are the
budgets of the different special funds, of local
and other administrations :
e Expendi-
Receipts. iº
Mill’eis. Milreis.
Dotations of the clergy (1864–5) ------ 641,009 $41,009
Bull of the crusade (1867–8). -- - - - - - - - 64,311 87,363
General councils of districts (1866–7) . 324,721 443,539
Establishments of benevolence (1861)- 1,131,050 | 1,038,178
—The amount of the public debt has been as fol-
lows :
Milreis. Milreis.
1898-------------- 39,100,000 | 1862.-------------- 149,853,788
1838-------------- 26,442,000 | 1864-------------- 185,435,830
1844-------------- 79,528,000 | 1866--------------194,648,456
185?-------------- 88,211,000 | 1869-------------- 293,305,978
1856.------------ 89,824,000 | 1873-------------- 350,000,000
1860-------------- 125,253,216
— IV. Military Organization. The Portuguese
are obliged to serve, from the time they are twenty
years of age till they are twenty-three, in the act-
ive army, and then five years in the reserve. Re-
cruitment takes place by conscription. Substitu-
tion is allowed. Teachers are exempt. The laws
of July 17, 1855, and June 4, 1859, insured the
regular practice of recruitment and the exact
payment of the troops; the absence of these two
conditions had formerly made the army “a dan-
ger to public order.” The present organization
of the army rests upon the law of June 23, 1864,
modified by different decrees of 1868 and by
decree of Oct. 4, 1869; also by the laws of 1875
and 1877. (See note.)—V. Public Charity. Out-
side of Lisbon the public treasury is freed, by the
active charity of individuals and the communes,
from the necessity of all contribution to benevo-
lent institutions. There is hardly a village in
Portugal which has not one or more hospitals or
asylums; and they are all magnificent. Lisbon
has six. Public assistance is directed by a general
board of charity. The institutions of charity
have for resources their own property, contribu-
tions of the communes, subsidies of the state and
the proceeds of the public lottery. But this
charity does not appear to exercise a preventive
influence on the mortality of foundlings, however
Well cared for they may be in the asylums open
to them. Neither does it prevent the misery,
prevalent in the countries of the south of Europe,
which differs in many respects from the pauper-
ism of industrial countries. The only escape,
and that only a contingent one, from this misery,
is emigration, which drives thousands of Portu-
guese every year to Brazil. — VI. Public Instruc-
tion. The decree of Sept. 20, 1844, established
two kinds of primary schools: some elementary,
properly so called, others higher ; in the latter,
geometry is taught. Primary instruction is ob-
ligatory under penalty of a fine imposed on the
parents or of deprivation of political rights for
five years; but this law is hardly ever enforced.
—Although the communes contribute to the pri-
mary and university education by annual contribu-
tions, the grant of the state is the greatest resource
of public instruction. This grant amounted in
1870 to 200,000 milreis; the share of the communes
was only 50,000 milreis. In 1838, there were
only 966 schools for boys, and twenty-five schools
for girls; in 1870 the former numbered 1,950, with
104,000 pupils, and the latter numbered 350, with
28,000 pupils. – Secondary instruction is given
in the lyceums: there is one such lyceum in each
district. The humanities, the sciences and agri-
cultural and industrial economy are taught in
them. Higher education is afforded by the univer,
sity of Coimbra. Its course comprises theology,
civil and canon law (with political economy),
Inedicine, mathematics and the natural sciences.
The king established at Lisbon, in 1859, at his
own expense, a higher course of history, meta-
physics, and ancient and modern literature.
Portugal possesses, besides, three academies of
medicine and surgery, at Lisbon, Oporto and
Madeira ; a polytechnic academy at Oporto, a
polytechnic school at Lisbon, two academies of the
fine arts, and a conservatory of music. The two
most important non-teaching scientific institutions
are: the royal academy of sciences, founded in
1778, which corresponds to the French institute,
and has two branches, one for physical sciences,
and mathematics, and the other for letters and
moral sciences; and gremio litterario, a free in-
stitute. (See note.) — VII. Church and State.
Portugal did not escape from the reign of terror
till the end of the last century, when the marquis
of Pombal abolished the punishments of the in-
quisition and expelled the Jesuits. The Jesuits
returned, but the inquisition was definitively abol-
ished in 1820. The old Kings of Portugal were
only the tools of the clergy, although one of them
subordinated all the ordinances of the pope to
the regio placito. The clergy possessed immense
estates, paid no taxes, and had 750 monasteries
and convents just before the liberal revolution.

PORTUGAL.
303
A royal decree of May 28, 1834, suppressed all
the monasteries, but rather through hatred than
through philosophy; for the Catholic religion has
always remained the religion of the state. Other
religions, however, are tolerated. — The ecclesiasti-
cal hierarchy consists, in the mother country, of the
patriarch of Lisbon, the two archbishops of Braga
and Evora, and sixteen bishops, two of whom are
in Madeira and the Azores; in the colonies of the
archbishop of Goa, the archbishop ad honorem of
Tranganor, and ten bishops. The patriarch has
over the bishops an authority almost equal to that
of the pope. These bishops are appointed by the
king, and confirmed by the holy see. The arch-
bishop of Goa is primate of the Indies; the strug-
gles, which lasted for a century, between the arch-
bishops of Goa, appointed by the king, as patron
of the orient, and the missionaries sent by the
pope, were terminated by the concordat of 1857,
but the number of suffragan episcopal sees of Goa
was reduced. — The state grants aid only to the
prelates of the continent, and all the clergy of the
islands. The parish priests and their assistants
in Portugal are paid by special contributions of
the communes, by fees, and by the property and
rents of the church. These resources were till
recently so insufficient that the ecclesiastics,
brought into contempt by their indigence and the
ignorance which was the result of it, had no in-
fluence upon the education of the people, who
could scarcely be taught except by them. But a
law of April 4, 1862, ordered the sale of the real
estate of the church, and their payment in bonds
of the funded debt.— VIII. Justice. The Porfill-
guese law goes back to the ecclesiastical laws of
the Visigoths, preserved during the middle ages
by the toleration of the Moors, and codified by
the kings; it comprises, besides, the canon law
and Roman law of the renaissance. The civil
code was imposed by the Spaniards. The ab-
sence of a criminal code is to be regretted ; but
the penal code of 1852 is relatively indulgent,
having been drawn up in accordance with the
principles of the charter, which established the
institution of the jury, the independence of jus-
tice, the publicity of debates, oral defense, and the
abolition of torture and confiscation. — Justice is
administered: 1, by the senate, when members of
the royal family, of the council of state or of
the two chambers, and ministers who are accused,
are parties; 2, by the supreme court of justice,
a court of Cassation and of second appeal; 3, by
five courts of appeal, two of which are for the col-
onies; 4, by 142 judges of law and their assess-
ors, judges of first resort (comarcas); 5, by 809
justices of the peace; 6, by 3,938 parish justices.
The last two orders of judges are elected, and
may be dismissed by the courts. All the others
are irremovable, and paid by the state, but they
can also be remunerated by the parties to the Suit.
The judges of law only declare the law; the jury
pronounces upon the fact. The charter provides
for a jury in all criminal and civil cases; but, in
civil cases, it is customary not to summon a jury,
except by consent of the parties to the suit.
There is a public prosecutor in Portugal. —IX.
Resources. The soil of Portugal is volcanic;
earthquakes are frequent. Fertile lands, rivers
and streams rest on beds of fire. The earth hides
all kinds of stones and metals. The Tagus once
flowed with gold, and an ancient king made his
sceptre from the gold found in it. There are
to be found in Portugal, mercury, lead, copper,
manganese, iron, and marble of all colors. But
all this was unworked until the establishment of
the railways. – The provinces of Minho, Beira
and Estramadura are the richest in agricultur-
al lands; Minho, better watered and better culti-
vated, produces almost as much as the rest of the
kingdom. Alemtejo, an immense plain in the
centre and south, has aluminous and Clayey soils;
it furnishes more cereals. The mountains of the
south are covered with calcareous soil, mixed
with iron and clay, especially in the neighbor-
hood of Lisbon. The seashores of Portugal have
sandy or silicious soils.-The forests were former-
ly very considerable; but the knights gastadores
destroyed them through hatred of the Moors, who
exploited the wealth of the country; and the
peasants of Portugal even to-day are rabidly op-
posed to trees, without suspecting whence they
inherit such vandalism. The forests occupy Only
an area of 18,856 hectares, of which 18,163 are
in compact masses. Almost half, 9,914 hectares,
belongs to the forest of Leira, of pines and cy-
presses, planted upon the shores of Estramadura
by an old king, to stop the invasion of the sand.
— One of the greatest sources of wealth of Portu-
gal consists in her mines of sea salt, which con-
stitute one of the principal objects of exploitation.
Portugal has a seacoast of 600 kilometres, low,
and with a sandy-clayey soil, upon which the
evaporation of salt water takes place under the
most favorable conditions for the production of
salt. The total production of salt was estimated,
in 1851, at 225,000 tons, in 1862 at 193,969, in
1864 at 249,750. The yield of salt is much more
considerable in Portugal than in France; it
amounts to 250 tons per hectare, while in France
it is only 100 tons. The alluvial lands of the
Tagus and the Sado are remarkably fertile and
proportionally unhealthy. The cultivation of ce-
reals comprises only a fourteenth of the area of
Portugal. The cultivation of the vine occupies
about half that space, which is relatively consid-
erable. The wonderful fertility of the soil would
allow these two branches to increase many times
their extent. The total area under cultivation is
only 2,500,000 hectares, much less than half the
country. The production of wine, moreover, has
very much increased since the laws of 1852 abol-
ished the monopolies which Pombal had created
in favor of two companies. – The production
of cereals in Portugal, continent and islands, was
estimated, in 1873, at eight or nine million hecto-
litres, and that of wines at 3,400,000 hectolitres.
— There were in Portugal, in 1870, 79,716 horses,
50,690 mules, 137,950 asses, 520,474 horned cattle,
304
|PORTUGAL.
3,543,646 wool-bearing animals, and 776,868 hogs.
—The oils of Portugal, although poorly prepared,
are very highly esteemed, and their production is
considerable. The country produces also lemons,
Oranges, and all the fruits of temperate climates.
Rice is cultivated in Algarve, upon inundated
Shores. Finally, attempts at silk growing have
recently been made with success.--The distant
fisheries of Portugal are almost destroyed. Coast
fishing alone preserves a certain importance. The
absence of routes on land has made coasting an
indispensable means of transport, which is car-
ried on largely by steam navigation. The tonnage
of Portuguese sailing and steam ships is about
800,000.-The shipping in all the ports of Portu-
gal, in 1869, amounted to: entries, 5,887 Portu-
guese and 4,525 foreign vessels; departures, 5,854
Portuguese and 4,428 foreign In 1870 the total
number of ships departing was 10,088, gauging
1,459,008 cubic metres. – Portugal, having prod-
ucts similar to those of the south of Europe, has
not much maritime commerce with the Mediter-
ranean. It is mostly carried on with Brazil and
the west of Europe. The movement of Portu-
guese commerce has constantly increased since
1852; the imports rose from 9,286,023 milreis in
1852 to 25,341,244 in 1870; the exports, in the
same period, rose from 6,580,533 milreis to
20,293,457. (See note.)—There were, in 1856,
only two banks; in 1873, the number had increased
to fifteen, four of which were established during
that year. The Operations of these establishments,
in 1858, were represented by a sum of 11,800,000
milreis; in 1872 by 24,421,400. The amount
of the deposits rose from 3,182,502 milreis to
12,167,916; that of notes from 1,855,083 milreis
to 3,258,978; that of discounts from 4,333,385
milreis to 15,869,442. The activity which the
ministry and the legislative chambers of Portugal
have displayed in comparatively recent years, has
improved the financial situation, commenced a
cadastre, and abolished monopolies. The con-
struction of roads, on which depends the suc-
cess of agriculture and commerce, must not be
forgotten. The company of public works, found-
ed in 1845, built roads from Lisbon to Cintra,
from Oporto to Braga, and from Lisbon to Bad-
ajoz. In 1873 the length of the national high-
ways was 2,918 kilometres, and that of district
highways 569 kilometres; the communal roads,
122 kilometres, and 326 in course of construction.
These roads cost the treasury about 50,000,000
francs. The clearing of the beds of rivers, the ca-
nalization of rivers, the extension of canals, and
the construction of royal highways by the state,
and of district and communal highways by the
districts and communes, have been undertaken.
The length of the principal railways was, in 1873,
804 kilometres; chiefly the one from Lisbon to
the frontiers of Spain (275 kilometres), and to
Oporto and Coimbra (230 kilometres). These
railroads, constructed by the aid of subsidies
from the state, cost the treasury about 90,000,000
francs. Many branches are projected, notably
One from Oporto to Braga and Rego. The length
of the system of telegraphic lines is 3,111 kilo-
metres, and comprises the telegraph from the
frontier, and that from the capital to the prov-
inces of the north and the neighboring cities.
The Spanish wires have been connected with the
Portuguese wires. Up to 1866, Portugal had ex-
pended for all public works (highways, railways,
telegraphs, ports, canals), 45,419,496 milreis.
(For later statistics see note.)*— BIBLIOGRAPHY.
* Political History during the last decade. During the last
decade the history of Portugal was more peaceful than that
of Spain. A few riotous assemblies were held, and a few in-
significant plots took place, but no civil war; neither did the
parliamentary parties combat one another very violently,
because in Portugal the republicans and social-democrats
met with little sympathy among the people. The permanent
financial deficit constituted the principal object of contem-
tion; it furnished to every opposition, whether conservative
or liberal, both the means and occasion for opposing and
overthrowing the cabinet for the time being in power. In
the chambers the regeneradores (conservatives), under the
counselor of state de Fontes Pereira de Mella, on the one side,
were opposed by the historians under Marquis Loulé and
Braamcamp, and the reformers (liberals) under the leader-
ship of the bishop of Vizen. The historians and the reform-
ers at times combined, forming a great progressionist party.
The reformers there, as reformers in general are wont to
do in other parliaments, spoke of retrenching the expendi-
tures of the state, of reducing the taxes, of thorough reforms
in all branches of the administration, and made motions to
that effect, which, however, could not be entertained by a
cautious and conservative government. The regeneradores
tried to restore the national wealth, by going to the utmost
limit of taxation, supporting industry and increasing trade,
thereby gradually doing away with the deficit. One cabinet
after another vainly tried to solve this difficult problem.
The republican and communistic agitation, which originated
in Spain after the abdication of King Amadeus, only slightly
disturbed Portugal. A republican committee, consisting of
Spaniards and Portuguese, in 1873, issued a manifesto to the
people of Portugal, by which the latter were urged to agitate
in favor of an Iberian republic. But just as in 1869, when
King Louis of Portugal, as well as his father, the titular
king, Ferdinand, refused to accept the crown of Spain, which
had been offered to them, the majority of the population
neither felt like tying their future to revolutionary Spain,
divided by exceedingly extreme parties, nor like exchanging
their independence for the blessings of a Spanish province.
The Portuguese press most emphatically rejected the prop-
osition of an “Iberian Union.” The cabinet of d’Avila,
which by imposing new taxes had caused great dissatisfac-
tion, was succeeded, on Sept. 13, 1871, by a conservative
ministry, of which de Fontes Pereira was president and
minister of finances. In a conflict with the chapter of the
cathedral of Braganza the ministry energetically defended
the rights of the state as against the church, and in 1875 a.
majority of the chamber and the press expressed themselves
as opposed to the intentions of the clericals. The chambers
of 1876 passed the bill for suppressing the last remnants of
slavery on Sao Thomé. Although slavery had been abol-
ished there, the emancipated negroes, who had been reduced
to a state of bondage to the planters, were cruelly maltreated
by the latter. Notwithstanding all its exertions within the
province of economy and the increase of taxation, the Fontes
Pereira cabinet was unable to do away with the deficit ; for
which reason the cabinet was violently attacked by the his-
torians and reformers, and being unable to meet these attacks
satisfactorily, the cabinet handed in its resignation March 6,
1877. Thereupon a cabinet of the coalition was formed, Mar-
quis d’Avila e Bolama, whose supporters occupied a position
midway between conservatives and liberals, becoming presi-
dent of the cabinet and minister of foreign affairs and of the
interior. This cabinet, formed from the moderate elements
of the regeneradores and of the opposition, was only able to
maintain itself as long as it did not by any measures arouse
the hostile feelings of those who constituted the majority in
|PORTUGAL.
305
Balbi, Essa? statistique sur le royaume de Portugal Reise mach Portugal im. Frühjahre, 1836, Leipzig,
et d’Algarve, Paris, 1882, and Variétés politico-
statistiques sur la monarchie portugažse, Paris,
1822; Eschwege, Portugal, ein Staats-und Sitten-
gemälde mach 30 jährigem Beobachtungen und Er-
fahrungen, Hamburg, 1837; Heeringen, Meine
the cortes. At the election for members of the city council
in Lisbon the cabinet opposed the regeneradores, and it also
appointed progressionists to the most important offices of the
administration; for which reasons the regeneradores en-
deavored to overthrow the cabinet. In this they succeeded
the more easily as the deficit had increased still more, and as
the ministry had shown great weakness in dealing with the
bishops. The vote of want of confidence offered by the
Tegeneradores on the occasion of the debate on the address,
and by which the ministry was accused of having violated
the principles of liberalism and the rules of proper admin-
istration, was passed, Jan. 26, 1878, by a vote of 69 to 19. The
cabinet thereupon resigned, and Fontes Pereira formed a new
cabinet. This latter, it is true, had a decided majority in
both chambers; but disagreement among the ministers them-
selves caused fle cabineſ fo resign May 29, 1879. The new
cabinet of the 1st of June was formed from the liberal oppo-
sition; Braamcamp, the leader of the historians, occupied
the position of president and of minister of foreign affairs.
But as, on the 3d of June, the conservative majority by 75
to 29 passed a vote expressing a want of confidence in the
ministry, the latter dissolved the chambers and ordered a
new election. The election resulted in a majority of 70 to 80
in favor of the ministry; the republican party was able to
elect but one representative. The submission of the so-called
Delagoa treaty, concluded with England in 1875, gave rise to
severe conflicts. According to that treaty, England was to
have the right to transport its goods through Delagoa Bay, a
Portuguese possession in South Africa, from and to Trans-
vaal free, also to build warehouses for goods free of duty, in
the port of Lorenzo-Marques, to build a railroad from that
city to Pretoria, in the Transvaal, and to operate the same
on its own account. This was considered by public opinion
as an abandonmont of Portugueſe territory and an actual
repeal of the arbitration, made in 1875 by Marshal MacMahon
in favor of the rights of Portugal to Delagoa Bay. The oppo-
ments of the Delagoa treaty, on March 8, 1881, asked to post-
pone the consideration of that matter until the English
squadron should have left the harbor of Lisbon. The cham-
ber of deputies, however, declined to pass this motion, and
on the 10th of March sanctioned the treaty by a vote of 74 to
19; this vote was openly declared by the English press to be
equivalent to a cession of Lorenzo-Marques to the British
crown. The upper chamber, it is true, refused to entertain
the vote censuring the government, which had been proposed,
by a vote of 50 to 49; but, as there were two ministers among
those who voted with the majority, the censure was in reality
voted by a majority of 49 to 48. At that time great excite-
ment prevailed in Lisbon. The republican party took the op-
portunity to call a meeting of the people, in which the govern-
ment and even the dynasty were violently attacked. An em-
phatic protest against the treaty was voted, and handed to the
president of the chamber by a deputation from the meeting.
When the chamber, in spite of this protest, ratified that treaty,
the ministers and their followers were publicly insulted by
the mob, and cries of “Down with the ministry !” “Long
live the republic l’’ were heard. In view of the exasperation
of the populace and of the vote of the upper chamber, the
Braamcamp cabinet was unable to maintain its position, and
it resigned. Thereupon Rodriguez Sampajo formed a new
ministry on the 28th of March, composed of conservatives of
the second class and of members of the independent party.
The chamber was dissolved, and general new elections were
ordered. By these elections the ministry obtained an over-
whelming majority, while the reformers, who, in the previ-
ous chamber had been in the majority, had but six votes
left. Nevertheless, this cabinet tendered its resignation on
the 13th of November, because it had been accused of exces-
sive indifference toward the reformist and republican agita-
tion, and because the municipal elections resulted strictly
in favor of the conservatives. In consequence thereof,
Fontes Pereira, on the 14th of November, formed another
139 VOL. III. — 20
1838; Minutoli, Portugal und seine Colonien im,
Zahre, 1854, Stuttgart and Augsburg, 1855; Vogel,
Le Portugal et ses colonies, Paris, 1861; Diccionario
abrévèado de chorographia, topographia e archeologia
dos citades, etc., de Portugal, Lisbon, 1867; For-
conservative cabinet, which was completed on the 16th of
the same month. Fontes took the presidency, the ministry
of finances, and provisionally that of war. The deficit in
the budget for 1882–3 still amounted to 5,622 contos; the
revenues amounted to 29,654, and the expenditures (including
the extraordinary expenses) to 35,276 contos. Besides the
financial question, public opinion also agitated the question
of reforming the constitution. The general demand was in
favor of transforming the upper chamber into a senate, part-
ly filled by election, and in favor of a change of the elections
for deputies, for the purpose of facilitating the representa-
tion of the minority. Opening the cortes in January, 1883,
the king declared, in his address from the throne, that the
government was considering a reform of the constitution.
For the purpose of securing its authority in the Congo dis-
trict of Africa, threatened by France, Portugal, in March,
1883, concluded a treaty with England, promising freedom
of trade and measures against the slave trade; England, in
turn, acknowledging Portugal's sovereign authority. At the
same time Portugal equipped an expedition for the Congo.
intended to guard Portugal's interests in that part of Africa.
– Late Statistics. The number of Protestants in Portugal,
mostly foreigners, does not exceed 500. They have chapels
at Lisbon and Oporto. The superintendence of public in-
struction is under the management of a superior council of
education, at the head of which is the minister of the interi-
or. Public education is entirely free from the supervision
and control of the church. Within the last few years, there
has been great progress in primary education. The expend-
iture on public education by the government amounted to
868,648 milreis, or £193,033, in 1882–3. —The following were
the estimated sources of revenue and branches of expendi-
ture of the budget, approved by the general cortes, for the
ſiliáilūial year eullilug Julie 30, 1883 :
REVENUE.
Direct taxes------------------------------------- £1,348,140
Stamp and register duties------------------------ 683,488
Indirect taxes and customs---------------------- 3,380,171
National domains and miscellaneous receipts---- 572,941
Repayments and Sundries----------------------- 245,484
º £6,230,224
Extraordinary receipts (loans)------------------- 359,555
Total revenue------------------------------- 36,589,779
EXPENDITURE.
Public debt----------- ** * * * * * * * * = * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ~ * #2,908,738
Treasury---------------------------------------- 1,280,860
Home office------------------------------------- 480,265
Justice------------------------------------------ 139,416
War -------------------------------------------- 1,022,206
Marine and Colonies----------------------------- 369,715
Foreign affairs------- --------------------------. 68,552
Public Works, Ordinary and extraordinary------- 1,569,413
Total expenditure--------------------------- 397,839,155
6,589,779
Estimated deficit, 1882–8--------------------- £1,249,416
As remarked above, there has been no budget for the last
thirty years without a deficit. The revenue of the kingdom
during the thirty years 1850–80 increased by about 60 per
cent. At the end of 1881 the debt was £97,512,000, the an-
nual interest being £3,065,285. Included in the existing debt
is the “old debt,” which has been nearly all converted, only
about £400 000 remaining unconverted. The external debt
amounts to about £50,000,000, the last loan issued being one
of £5,189,000 in 1882. The funded debt of Portugal, per head
of population, is nearly as large as that of the United King-
dom, the quota of debt for each inhabitant amounting to
£20 11s., and the annual share of interest, at 3 per cent., to
13s. 6d. Besides the funded debt, there is a large floating
debt, estimated variously at from £2,500,000 to £4,000,000.
306
POSTOFFICE.
rester, Portugal and its Capabilities, London, 1860;
Pery, Geographia e Estatistica geral de Portugal e
Colonias, Lisbon, 1875; Latouche, Thravels ºn Port-
wgal, London, 1875; Murray, Handbook for Traw-
elers in Portugal, London, 1876; Gebaner, Portu-
giesische Geschichte, Leipzig, 1759; Fortia d’Orbay
and Mielle, Histoire de Portugal, Paris, 1828–9;
Schäfer, Geschichte von Portugal, Hamburg and
Gotha, 1836–54; Rebello da Silva, Historia de Port-
'ugal nos Séculos, a vić, e avčič., Lisbon, 1860–71; S. J.
da Suz Soriano, Historia da Guerra Civil, Lisbon,
1870–76 ; Latino Coelho, Historia Politica e Mālī-
tor de Portugal, Lisbon, 1874; Barbosa de Pinho
Leal, Portugal Antigo e Moderno, Lisbon, 1873–7.
J. DE BOISJOSLIN.
POSTOFFICE. History. The first extensive-
ly organized postal Service was the cursus publicus
of the Roman empire. It was developed in con-
nection with the system of Roman roads, and,
like them, was primarily intended to subserve
military and administrative purposes. It amount-
ed to nothing more than a fully equipped set of
relay stations for the rapid forwarding of official
A large portion of the foreign debt of Portugal consists of
loans raised between 1877 and 1882. The first of these, a
foreign loan of £6,500,000 nominal, at 3 per cent., was issued
at 50 in 1877. Only £4,000,000 of this loan was subscribed
at the time. This was followed by the issue of another for-
eign loan of £2,500,000, on the same terms, in July, 1878, and
by a foreign loan of £5,000,000, issued in December, 1880,
and, finally, in 1882, by a loan of £5,189,000, in 5 per cent.
bonds. The floating debt of Portugal has been increasing in
recent years, although its gradual extinction was decreed in
1873, when the government raised a loan for this special
object. The interest on the public debt has frequently re-
mained unpaid. Portions of the national debt have also
been repudiated at various periods. – The effective strength
of the army is fixed annually by the cortes, and was nomi-
nally 78,200 officers and men, in 1882, on the war footing.
The actual strength of the army in 1882 was reported to con-
sist of 26,059 rank and file, chiefly infantry, the cavalry num-
bering 3,241, and the artillery 2,709, officers and men. The
number of troops in the Portuguese colonies announts to 8,500
infantry and artillery, besides a reserve of 9,500 men. The
navy of Portugal was composed, at the end of 1882, of thirty-
one steamers and sixteen sailing vessels, most of the latter
laid up in harbor. The steamers (1883) comprise : eight
corvettes, of 2,300 horse power, having forty-six guns; ten
sloops, of 637 horse power, having thirteen guns; nine gun-
boats, of 840 horse power, having thirty-one guns; two trans-
ports, of 420 horse power, having four guns; and two torpedo
boats, of 600 horse power ; making a total of thirty-one
steamers, of 4,797 horse power, with ninety-four guns. The
navy is officered by one vice admiral, ten rear admirals,
forty-two captains, forty-one lieutenant captains, 149 lieu-
tenants, and manned by 3,034 sailors. The commercial navy
of Portugal consisted, on Jan. 1, 1881, of 453 vessels, includ-
ing forty-One steamers, of an aggregate burthen of 88,829
tons. – The total length of railways open for traffic in Octo-
ber, 1882, was 1,673 kilometres, or 1,045 English miles, with
144 kilometres, or ninety English miles more, in course of
construction. All the railways receive subventions from the
state. — The number of postoffices in the kingdom, in Sep-
tember, 1881, was 858, besides forty-five on the islands.
There were 20,338,171 letters and postal cards, and 15,276,552
packets and newspapers carried in 1881. — The number of
telegraph offices at the end of 1880, was 196. There were at
the same date 4,369 kilometres, or 2,715 English miles, of
telegraph wires. The number of telegrams dispatched in
the year 1880 was 1,121,384, comprising 423,937 inland dis-
patches, and the remainder international or transit, Of the
whole number, 688,065 were official dispatches,
correspondence, not for the use of the general
public. Traces of it survived the fall of the old
Roman empire, and lasted well on into the middle
ages; but not as an institution with which mod-
ern postage can be shown to have any historical
connection.—The postal systems which sprang up
in the middle ages were, as might be expected,
not centralized, but in the hands of local organi-
zations: commercial cities, universities, or orders
of knights. The city postoffices were the earliest
organized, and in the time of prosperity of the
Hanseatic league attained a high stage of develop-
ment. Originally intended for purposes of trade
communication between the guilds and merchants
of Westphalia and those on the Seacoast, they be-
came an important convenience to the general
public of northern Germany. The postal arrange-
ments of the universities were developed in a
similar way. First intended as a channel of com-
munication between scholars and their homes,
the same facilities were soon afforded to others
who lived where they could avail themselves of
them. The most important example of the third
class was the postal service of the knights of the
Teutonic order, extending over the northeast of
Germany almost as widely as that of the Hanse
towns over the northwest. -- At the end of the
fifteenth century, as centralizing governments
grew up and supplanted the feudal system, na-
tional postal service was attempted, and ultimate-
ly prevailed. In this, as in all other similar mat-
ters, France took the lead. The first steps were
taken by Louis XI., and they were followed up by
Charles VIII. The wars of the sixteenth century
checked this development; but it was resumed
under Louis XIII.; and in 1681 was so far ad-
vanced that letter carrying was made a govern-
ment monopoly, though largely controlled by
private hands till the legislation of 1790. In Eng-
land there are traces of a postal service and postal
regulations going back to a very early time; but
the organized business of letter carrying seems to
date from the reign of James I. It made a gov-
ernment monopoly by the legislation of 1649 and
1657, although the business was farmed out until
1709. – In the countries ruled by the house of
Austria an international postal system was started,
under the administration of the Taxis family.
At the beginning of the sixteenth century they
established regular communication between Brus-
sels and Vienna; soon a line was added to Milan
and beyond, and not long after a further line to
Madrid. In 1595 Leonard von Taxis received the
office of postmaster general of the empire; and in
1615 this dignity was made hereditary. It was
much harder to establish a monopoly here than in
France or England, owing to the extent of ground
to be covered, the full development of Special
postal services, and the weakness of the imperial
authority. The nominal rights granted by the
investiture could only be carried into effect by
treaties with the individual states; and many of
these preferred to maintain postal systems of their
own. This was the case in Austria on the One
POSTOFFICE.
307
hand, and in Brandenburg (and thus eventually
Prussia), as well as many less important states of
North Germany, on the other. The postal service
of the Taxis family was thus chiefly exercised in
the smaller states of middle and southern Germany,
where it survived the fall of the empire, and
lasted till 1866. — A long time elapsed after the
governments took control of the postal service
before they made it efficient. The usefulness
of the English postoffice dates from the year
1784, when measures of reform were introduced
by Palmer, the postmaster general, with the
warm support of Pitt. Previous to his time
the mail conveyance had been infrequent, slow,
irregular, and utterly unsafe. In the eight years
of his tenure of office he doubled the frequency
and Speed of conveyance, and secured a reason-
able degree of regularity and safety, chiefly by
the substitution of coaches for single riders as a
means of carriage. But, though the service was
much improved, the rates continued exorbitant ;
so much so that a vast deal of private letter con-
veyance was done, in defiance of government
rights. In the years 1830–35 the pressure in favor
of low rates began to make itself felt; and the
movement in this direction was ably headed by
Rowland Hill, whose work on “Postal Reform,
its Importance and Practicability,” appeared in
1837. His proposal to reduce inland postage to
about one-tenth of its former figure was so sweep-
ing as to cause a great sensation and not a little
opposition; but the idea was carried out in 1840,
and the example thus set by England was soon
followed by the other civilizcd nations; though
generally with gradual instead of sudden reduc-
tion. — The bill which established penny postage
also introduced the use of postage stamps. The
idea was not a new one ; abortive attempts to
carry it out had been made in France in 1653 and
1758, in Spain in 1716, in Sardinia in 1819–36.
But in connection with the reduced postage and
increased correspondence which followed it,
stamps proved of indispensable service ; and the
example of England in introducing them was,
within ten years, followed by nearly all promi-
nent states. In the years 1869–74 came the still
further reduction in price effected by the use of
postal cards, originating in Austria. — The postal
system of the United States dates from colonial
times, being specially provided for in the postal
act of Queen Anne's reign; and its character was
not very distinctly changed by the separation, or
by any causes other than the natural growth of the
country. Before the passage of the act of 1845,
inland rates varied from six to twenty-five cents a
sheet. The act of 1845 provided for rates of five
and ten cents, according to distance; and in 1847
stamps of these denominations were introduced.
In 1851 postage for nearly all home letters was
reduced to three cents. – The detailed history of
postal development in different countries offers so
few peculiarities that it is unnecessary to treat
them separately. Everywhere we have, first,
gradual improvement of service; then, simul-
taneously, lowering of rates, equalization for dif-
ferent distances, introduction of postage stamps;
abandonment of the sheet as the unit of charge,
and substitution of a unit of weight, at first
almost always somewhat below the present half
ounce (15 grm.) standard. By the year 1851
the postal legislation and policy of civilized na-
tions, as far as concerns home correspondence,
had approached near to its present shape. — Not
so with foreign correspondence. For a long time
nothing was done to encourage that, even by those
administrations that were anxious to extend home
facilities. It was not until 1833 that a daily mail
was established between London and Paris; and
even then there was communication but twice a
week with other parts of the continent. There
were discriminating rates against foreign corre-
spondence, which were sometimes almost prohibit-
Ory. The rate for a letter from London to Dover
was 8d.; but if it was to be forwarded to France,
the charge for the same part of the route in 1834
was 1s. 2d.; if intended for Germany, 1s. 8d.; for
Italy, 1s. 11d. The ship charge for carrying a
letter to the United States was six cents, or 3d. ;
the rate charged by the British postoffice for de-
livering such a letter to the ship was 2s. 2d. For
letters directed to Spain, it was the same ; for
those to Brazil the inland rate was actually 3s.
6d. The rates of other countries indicated a sim-
ilar policy. As international correspondence in-
creased, and with it the demand for more favora-
ble terms, these high charges could not well be
reduced without common action on the part of the
two nations concerncó. Hence resulted a number
of postal treaties, among which may be mentioned,
as leading ones, the system of treaties (1840–50)
between Austria, Prussia, and the smaller German
states—many of the latter still represented by the
heir of the Taxis family; also the series between
France and England. Not the least important
and delicate matter in some of these treaties was
the provision concerning charges for letters in
transit, to be delivered in some third country be-
yond. By means of these treaties the rates between
the different nations of Europe were gradually
reduced. Not so successful was the attempt to
reduce them between Europe and America. The
foreign postage policy of the United States had
been for a longtime exceedingly liberal, and it was
Only the conservatism of England that had pre-
vented cheap postage between the two countries.
Then at the time when England was making her
postal reforms at home, steamships were taking
the place of sailing vessels; and the subsidies
which England wished to pay the steamship lines
made her statesmen unwilling to reduce a postage
rate which seemed to furnish such a suitable means
of defraying the expense. Then came the adop-
tion of the same system on the part of France,
and attempts in the same direction in America;
and every effort to support a subsidized steam-
ship line lessened the strength of the demand for
cheap transmarine postage. The United States
rate for a considerable time Was twenty cents,
308
POSTOFFICE.
except where special arrangements provided other-
wise; and these arrangements were apt to mean
higher instead of lower rates. But with the aban-
donment of the Collins line of steamers, the
United States again took strong ground in favor of
lower rates; and, at its suggestion, a conference
was held at Paris in 1863, relative to common
action in the matter of international postage.
This conference was only deliberative; it did not
do away with the necessity of special treaties,
though there was a continued lowering of rates in
these. A similar conference, to be invested with
greater powers, was invited to meet at Bern, in
1873; but as France, on the ground of financial
embarrassments, declined to take part, it was post-
poned, and reconvened in September, 1874, when
the leading nations were satisfactorily represented.
In spite of some moderate opposition from France,
which was hampered by its subsidy system of mail
contracts, and in spite of great lukewarmness on
the part of England, public feeling in favor of
cheap postage was so strong that, on Oct. 9, a postal
union was formed on a general basis of five cents
per half ounce letter postage, to go into effect, with
some few exceptions, July 1, 1875. Even France
agreed that it would ultimately acquiesce in this
rate. Other nations, not at first included, joined
the postal union in rapid succession, and in 1878
a second congress was held at Bern, which car.
ried out the ideas of the first into the shape of
a postal union treaty, embracing the following
points: 1, harmonious arrangement of lines for
international connection, transit, etc.; 2, avoid-
ance of international competition ; 3, proper dis-
tribution of expenses, and, if necessary, pool-
ing of receipts; 4, international equality of
treatment ; 5, equality of standards of weight,
etc. These postal treaties have now been agreed
to by all. Europe, and most of the other coun-
tries of the world. The postal union has a
permanent organization at Bern, with its regu-
larly published series of reports. – For dealing
with all this business a body of officials and of
official regulations has become necessary, almost
involving a special department of administrative
law. Two points of this deserve mention in a
history of the subject: first, the franking privi-
lege, or right of public officers to send letters free
of charge, a survival of the time when the object
of the postoffice was to transact government busi-
mess, but one which has maintained itself almost
everywhere; and second, the wide application of
the principle of Sacredness of epistolary corre-
spondence. —In this historical account, attention
has been confined to the letter post as the most
important part of the system. The postoffice has
at different times and places attempted the convey-
ance of newspapers, unsealed packages, money,
persons and telegrams; not to speak of matters
like postal savings banks, being quite aside from
its main function. In almost all cases it has done
so in more or less direct competition with private
enterprise: though the English government had,
up to the year 1840, a virtual monopoly of news-
paper carriage; while in many parts of the con-
tinent of Europe the actual competition in for-
warding Small parcels is not to-day noticeable.
The conveyance of money has generally been
effected under a form like a registered letter; but
in England the habitual use of cheques led to the
early development (1838) of the postoffice money
order, which was slow in making its way into
other countries. The rapid conveyance of per-
sons from place to place by government posting
arrangements, was at one time almost as impor-
tant, at least in the eyes of the authorities, as the
conveyance of letters; but it of course nearly fell
away with the introduction of railways, except
in the few countries, like Norway, which combine
considerable demand for communication with the
impracticability of railways. On the other hand,
postal telegraphy seems destined to grow in im-
portance. In many countries of Europe the tele-
graph was from the beginning developed in con-
nection with the postoffice; while in England it
was brought under its control in 1869. — Princi-
ples of Administration. The question whether the
state should control the postoffice need not be se-
riously discussed as an open one. Our experience
with railroads has shown what we may expect
from private management in affairs of this kind
—unsteadiness and discrimination of rates, and
development of competing and favored points at
the expense of all others. When it is impossible,
to avoid this in transportation, unless by combi-
nations and monopolies no less dangerous than
the evil itself, it can hardly be seriously proposed
to introduce it into the system of postal commu-
nication. On the other hand, the question as to
how far the postoffice should extend its activity to
the conveyance of parcels, telegrams, etc., can not
be adequately treated here; partly because the ne-
cessity changes so entirely with varying local con-
ditions, partly because special technical reasons
are involved, to which justice can be done only in
separate articles. – Setting these points aside, we
have two distinct series of questions to deal with:
first, as to the financial or administrative aims with
which the postoffice should be conducted; second,
as to the means to be employed for securing those
aims. Of the two, the first is more difficult, and
at the same time of more general importance and
interest. — We see in the history of the institution
that the postoffice was taken up by governments
far more with a view of strengthening their own
position than for the convenience of their subjects.
This was equally the case whether they used it ex-
clusively for their own business, as in Rome, or
for the sake of getting administrative control into
their hands, as in France. This carelessness of
public interest led to its management under sys-
tems of lease or investiture, whatever means would
Secure money or influence with the least trouble.
That state of things was outgrown in the last
century, and men attained to the conception
(though not always to the reality) of the postal
service as a public interest, to be managed directly
by the state for the public advantage. But the
POSTOFFICE.
309
particular form of public advantage to be aimed
at was not yet settled. The postoffice might be
managed in any one of four ways: 1, as a tax; 2, to
yield good business profit; 3, to pay expenses; 4,
to best accommodate the public. On the whole,
the third of these principles is tending to prevail,
but there has been, and is still, much deviation
from it. — 1. The use of the postoffice as a means
of taxation was an idea belonging distinctly to the
earlier period, now outgrown. Yet, in practice
the lowering of rates was so slow that the gov-
ernment monopoly at the charges ruling previous
to 1840 had all the characteristics of a tax, and of
one placed at the highest limit the business would
bear; making itself felt not so much by the amount
of money collected as by the means adopted to
evade payment, by keeping correspondence within
narrow limits or forwarding it by illegal agen-
cies. The discriminating rates against foreign
postage were still more obviously of the nature
of a tax, and were felt to be so when connected
with the subsidy system; so that the abandonment
of the principle of managing the postoffice as a
tax can not be said to have been complete till the
final lowering of rates by France and Italy subse-
quent to the postal congress of 1878. – 2. The
idea of managing the postoffice to obtain business
profits is much more plausible, and in those
branches of the postal service which come into
competition with private agencies, such as express
companies, is probably sound. But in letter car-
rying, where there is a government monopoly, it
is liable to misapplication in two ways. First,
the absence of competition leaves the decision as
to what constitutes a good business profit in the
hands of the postoffice authorities, who, in the
uncertain conditions and bases of calculation, have
every motive to aim too high, and thus give the
result the character of a tax ; and, second, the
absence of Outside control of rates makes it natural
for the authorities to secure the required excess
of income over expenditure by doing a small
business at high charges, instead of a large busi-
ness at low charges. As a matter of fact, business
profits under a government monopoly are not
clearly distinguishable from taxes. Compare the
arguments used (1835–50) against lowering postal
rates with the results which actually followed
such lowering. The most marked instance of re-
duction and its consequences may be taken from
Towland IIill’s reform, by which postage was
reduced to one-tenth its former figure. The finan-
cial showing did not quite realize Hill's anticipa-
tions, partly on account of a change in the legis-
lation respecting newspapers; nevertheless, the
department continued to do much more than pay
expenses; its gross income reached its former
figure in ten years, its net income in about thirty
years; and in the last case the department was
serving the public by carrying fourteen times as
many letters as in 1839. The system of business
profits is, however, in large measure maintained
both in England and in France. (See figures be-
low.)—3. The idea of managing the postoffice
chosen? is the Second question.
simply to pay expenses gained hold in connection
with the reforms of 1840. Even those writers
who, from a financial standpoint, criticise the sud-
denness of Hill's change, and prefer the conti-
nental and American policy of gradual reduction,
do so on account of the evils of suddenly shifting
the burdens of taxation rather than from any
objection to the principle itself. Yet, while their
theorists hold this view, in practice most Euro-
pean states so far keep to the older policy as
to secure a slight excess of income over expend-
iture in this department, perhaps, in general,
not more than would meet interest on the cost
of buildings. (See figures below.) The disad-
vantages of the profits principle have been al-
ready set forth; the corresponding advantages of
the cost principle are, first, that it takes away the
uncertainty as to the result to be striven for, and,
second, that it furnishes a tangible basis on which
the rates are likely to be computed, with due
regard to the public interest. — 4. To carry let-
ters without paying expenses (that is to say,
below cost) is to tax the general public for the
sake of a special service; usually a thing to be
avoided. Yet, there are considerations which some-
times make it necessary to proceed on this prin-
ciple. In countries like the United States or
Russia, there are strong social and administrative
reasons for establishing long routes over sparsely
populated districts. These involve a large increase
in expense, with no corresponding increase in
revenue, whatever rate of postage is charged upon
them. They have often caused a postal deficit in
Russia, and almost always in the United States.
If the expense of these routes causes a deficit in
the whole department when the rates of postage
are moderate, the additional income which could
be obtained by higher postal rates would not be
likely to cover it, because higher postal rates mean
fewer letters. Thus the government must be pre-
pared to meet the deficit. But—to take another
consideration—suppose that the deficit could be
met by higher rates. Suppose that in America
by such rates a surplus could be obtained in the
already self-sustaining east, sufficient to meet defi-
cits in the south and west, or that such surplus
could be obtained upon the main routes as to
meet deficits upon the minor ones. What then?
Such a proceeding would be a tax upon the cor-
respondence of one section for the benefit of
another. The interests subserved by such routes
are not the postal interests. They are the general
interests of the country; and to force the postage
returns of other sections to pay for this service is
to intensify the unfairness of taxation which it is
intended to avoid. Thus the principle now gen-
erally favored is, that the postoffice should aim to
pay expenses; but the traditional practice of Euro-
pean administrations is to make it do somewhat
more; and the special circumstances of the United
States have justified the practice of allowing it to
do somewhat less. – How shall the rates be ad-
justed in accordance with the financial principle
|Under the older
31()
POSTOFFICE DEPARTMENT.
Systems of taxation or profit, the rate was carried
as high as the business would bear, and often
higher, with the result of causing much smug-
gling. On those principles they of course charged
much more for long routes than for short ones.
Until 1845 the United States minimum charges
were as follows: Under 30 miles, 6 cents; under 80
miles, 10 cents; under 150 miles, 124 cents; under
400 miles, 18% cents; over 400 miles, 25 cents.
Yet, even at this time, before the development of
railways to any extent, it was computed that
the cost of transmission of letters constituted less
than two-sevenths of the whole, and the cost of
collection and delivery more than five-sevenths.
Compared with what it would cost the sender to
evade payment, the differential rates were just;
compared with what it cost to perform the
Service, they were absurd. And, as time went on,
the absurdity increased. Improved means of
Communication rendered the whole cost of trans-
mission a less important element; rapid increase
of communication between distant places still fur-
ther reduced differences in the cost of transmis-
sion. And with the rising feeling in favor of a
system based on expense, not on profit—“freight,
not tax,” in the words of the day—a gradual
equalization of rates for different distances was
inevitable. On the continent of Europe, there was,
for like reasons, a similar tendency, partially car-
ried out, to do away with weight as an element in
letter postage. This idea never took much hold
in America, unless we regard the treatment of
books and newspapers as an instance of it. There
is no inherent reason why the postoffice should
prefer to carry printed matter rather than written
matter of the same weight. But printed matter,
being habitually sent in large parcels, was, weight
for weight, far easier to handle; especially so in the
case of papers which went from day to day on the
Same routes in about equal quantities. Moreover,
monopoly rates had never taken firm root here,
Owing to the competition of private agencies in the
delivery of unsealed matter. All these reasons
combined to produce the lower rates on these
classes of goods. – These practical ideas are fol-
lowed out in the inland postage of almost all civ-
ilized countries, whether the results are such as
to more than cover or slightly less than cover the
expense. In international postage it is sometimes
difficult to carry them out with fairness. The
five-cent rate was based on a rough average of
transmission expenditures; and countries unfor-
tunately situated or organized may be unable to
meet their foreign postal expenses on this rate.
The general advantages of belonging to the postal
union are a sufficient compensation for such of
these inequalities as can not be satisfactorily ar-
ranged. —We present herewith statistics of post-
offices of the different countries named, for the
year 1880:


Average Percent-
Number Number Number of Average age of
* Of * _| Letters and per e Net In-
COUNTRIES Population. | Pºst- |Qí Inhab: fºilo...is Irºb- Revenue. Expenditure. .'; o
offices. tºº, Q | Fºardièi it. Expendi-
each P.O. ture.
United States-------------- 50,153,000 42,989 1,167 | 1,177,620,000 23.4 || $33,315,000 $36,543,000 –9
Great Britain and Ireland--| 35,004,000 14,212 2,463 | 1,299,308,000 37.2 31,153,000 19,288,000 +61}
France -------------------- 36,906 000 5,913 6,242 245,661,000 11.1 23,830,000+ 15,806,000+ +5.1%
Germany------------------ 45 23 CJ0 9,553 4,839 718,241,000 15.9 36,502,000+ 32,324,000+ +13+.
Austria-------------------- 22.131,000 4,025 5,498 282,441,000 12.8 6,706, 5,965,000 +12}
Hungary ------------------ 15,695,000 2,301 6,821 78,179,000 5.0 2,566,000 2,119,000 +21
Italy ---------------------- 28,437,000 3,348 8,494 196,013,000 7.3 5,354,000 4,628,000 + 16
* 1881. + Including telegraphs.
— So much for the economic principles govern-
ing the postal service. Its economic effects it is
impossible to discuss to advantage, for the very
reason that it has become an essential part of Our
modern life. Our whole economic, social and po-
litical system has become so dependent upon free
and secure postal communication, that the attempt
to measure its specific effects can be little else than
a waste of words. ARTHUR T. HADLEY.
POSTOFFICE DEPARTMENT. This is one
of the executive departments of the United States
government, established by act of May 8, 1794.
(1 Stat. at Large, p. 357.) The head of the de-
partment is the postmaster general (Salary $8,000),
who is appointed by the presider ºld Senate, and
is a member of the Cabinet, by a custom dating
back to the administration of President Jackson.
Prior to this the postmaster general, although his
office existed since 1789, had not been regarded as
one of the president's constitutional advisers. His
duties embrace the direction of the postoffice de-
partment, and the management of the domestic
and foreign mail service; the award and execu-
tion of contracts; the negotiation of postal treaties
with foreign governments (under direction of the
president); the appointment of all clerks in his
department; and the commissioning and appoint-
ment of all postmasters receiving salaries of
$1,000 or under per annum (all above that
standard being presidential appointments). This
vast patronage involves the appointment of more
than 40,000 officers of the United States, while the
patronage in the form of mail contracts by rail-
way, steamboat and horse or stage conveyance
(the latter known as “star routes”), extends to
millions of dollars annually. He has, besides,
the power to establish and discontinue postoffices
(that of establishing new post routes being re-
served by congress); to control the styles, etc., of
all postage stamps, envelopes, postal cards, etc.;
to prescribe the manner of keeping and rendering
PRESS.
311
6
accounts; to instruct all persons in the postal
service as to their duties; and to control the
expenditure of all moneys appropriated for the
postoffice service, amounting to over $40,000,000
annually. The postmaster general is required to
make an annual report to congress upon the mail
contracts, land and water mails, receipts and ex-
penditures, postal business, domestic and foreign,
fines imposed upon contractors, etc. He has
power to fix and adjust the salaries of postmas-
ters under the general regulations of congress, to
make special orders providing extra service or
compensation at postoffices, to employ special
agents, to establish money Order offices, etc. —
The subordinate officers employed in the post-
office department comprise three assistant post-
masters general ($4,000 each), an assistant attorney
general for the postoffice department ($4,000), a
superintendent of money order system ($3,500),
a superintendent of foreign mails ($3,000), a chief
clerk ($2,200), a law clerk ($2,500), a topographer
($2,500) and 556 clerks, laborers, etc., at a total
expenditure for salaries of the department, of
$681,980 (fiscal year 1884); besides contingent
expenses, amounting to $129,000. The salaries
of postmasters for the same year amounted to
$9,250,000; cost of mail transportation $21,000,000;
foreign mail transportation, $350,000. — The three
grand divisions of the postoffice department busi-
ness place in charge of the first assistant post-
master general : 1, appointment of postmasters;
2, establishment or removal of postoffices; 3, ad-
justment of salaries; 4, the free delivery or letter.
carrier system in cities; 5, commissions, bonds,
etc., of postmasters; and 6, distribution of of.
ficial blanks, letter balances, etc., to postoffices.
The second assistant postmaster general is charged
with 1, the supervision of all contråcts for carry-
ing the mails; 2, fixing frequency, conveyance
and times on all mail routes; 3, advertisements;
4, the inspection of the carrying and delivery
service, mail failures, etc., and 5, the issuing of
mail locks and keys, mail bags, etc. The office
of the third assistant postmaster general has
charge of financial business, involving: 1, receiv-
ing and issuing drafts; 2, issuing of postage
stamps, envelopes and postal cards; 3, the cor-
respondence of the registered letter system; and
4, the examination and return to the writers
of dead letters. — The money order system is
in charge of a superintendent, who keeps the
accounts, cto., of the issue of domestic and in-
ternational money orders, and of the new post-
al notes. – The Superintendent of foreign mails
supervises the ocean mail steamship service,
and all foreign postal arrangements.--The busi-
ness of the general postoffice is conducted in a
massive and ornate marble building, covering
a square of ground in the heart of Washing-
ton. Its architecture is Corinthian, its dimen-
sions 300 feet by 204 feet, and its cost $1,700,000.
—The following is a list of postmasters gen-
eral, with their terms of office, from the begin-
ning of the government:
1. Samuel Osgood------------------------- Sept. 26, 1789
2. Timothy Pickering---------------------- Aug. 12, 1791
3. Joseph Habersham---------------------- Feb. 25, 1795
4. Gideon Granger------------------------- Nov. 28, 1801
5. Return J. Meigs, Jr. -------------------- March 17, 1814
6. John McLean ------------------------- June 26, 1823
7. William T. Barry------------------------ March 9, 1829
8. Amos Kendall-------------------------- May 1, 1835
9. John M. Niles-------------------------- May 25, 1840
10. Frangis Granger:----------------------- March 6, 1841
11. Charles A. Wickliffe-------------------- Sept. 13, 1841
12. Cave Johnson.----------------------- ----|March 6, 1845
13. Jacob Collamer------------------------- March 8, 1849
14. Nathan K. Hall------------------------ ...July 23, 1850
15. Samuel D. Hubbard--------------------- Aug. 31, 1852
16. James Campbell--------------.... --...--- March 5, 1853
17. Aaron W. Brown------------------------ March 6, 1857
18. Joseph Hoſt----------------------------- March 14, 1859
19. Horatio King--------------------------- Feb. 12, 1861
20. Montgomery Blair---------------------- March 5, 1861
21. William Dennison.----------------------- Sept. 24, 1864
22. Alexander W. Randall.------------------ July 25, 1866
23. John A. J. Creswell------------------- --March 5, 1869
24. Marshall Jewell------------------------- Aug. 24, 1874
25. James N. Tyner------------------------- July 12, 1876
26. David McK. Key------------------------ March 12, 1877
27. Horace Maynard ----------------------- June 2, 1880
28. Thomas L. James.---------------------- March 5, 1881
29. Timothy O. Howe ----------------------- Dec. 20, 1881
A. R. SPOFFORD.
POSTOFFICE SAWINGS BANKS. (See
BANKS, HISTORY AND MANAGEMENT OF SAVINGS.)
POWERS OF CONGRESS.
Powers OF.)
(See Congress,
PRESIDENT. (See ExECUTIVE.)
PRESIDENT PRO TEM. (See PARLIAMEN-
TARY L.A.W.)
PRESS, The Newspaper and Periodical.
The discussion of this topic naturally divides itself
into: 1, some account of the origin of the news-
paper press in this and other countries, and the
statistics of its development at the present time;
2, the relations of government to the press, from
the censorship and licensing of printing to the
complete liberty of the press which now exists in
free countries, with particular reference to the his-
tory of the growth of this freedom in England
and the United States; and 3, the relations of the
press to individuals, and the present condition of
the law of newspaper libel. — 1. Authorities differ
as to the origin of the newspaper. Disraeli gives
the Venetians credit for the invention. Doubt-
less their monthly Gazetta—a title derived from
the name of a farthing coin peculiar to Venice—
were in advance of the English in the periodical
circulation of news in manuscript sheets. But
if we date the origin of the newspaper from the
issue of manuscript sheets for general informa-
tion, we must go back to the time of the Caesars,
when the Acta Diurna, containing brief items of
official news, were circulated under the auspices
of the Roman government. Printed news sheets
appeared in most of the European countries at
various periods in the seventeenth century. In
Germany periodical publications were preceded
by irregular publications of news, summaries of
events, etc., in the sixteenth century. The first
regular newspaper in that country and in Europe,
312
PRESS.
was a weekly paper established at Frankfort in
1615, by Egenolph Emmel, a bookseller. In 1616
Johann von der Birghden, the postmaster at Frank-
fort, established the Frankfurter Oberpostamts-Zei-
tung, the oldest successful German newspaper.
The Allgemeine Zeitung, established at Tübingen
in 1798, by Cotta, the publisher, and still con-
tinued at Augsburg, has been the most successful
and the most influential of the German news-
papers. The German periodical press, both in its
political and literary publications, is now the most
firmly established, the most widely diffused and
the most ably conducted press of the continent,
notwithstanding the repressive restrictions of the
government. The precursor of the French peri-
Odical press was the Gazette, issued by Théophraste
Renaudot in 1631, and continuing, under modi-
fications of title, until 1789, first as a weekly, then
as a semi-weekly, and finally as a daily publica-
tion. The Moniteur, the official organ of the gov-
ernment, was founded in 1789. The first daily
newspaper was the Journal de Paris ow. Poste du
Soir, established in 1777. An enormous number
of political journals have flourished for a greater
or less period in the French capital during the
last 100 years, several of the cheaper newspapers
now published there reaching circulations not par-
alleled in other countries. In Spain a court jour-
nal was founded in the middle of the eighteenth
century. The alternating rigor of government
supervision in Spain has prevented any such de-
velopment of the periodical press of that coun-
try as is seen elsewhere. The first Russian news-
paper was established in 1703, and newspapers
are now published in the principal cities of the
empire, under very rigid censorship. The Ital-
ian and Austrian newspapers are inferior to those
of Germany and France, although several reach
wide circulations and wield a powerful popu-
lar influence. —Nathaniel Butter, who founded
the “London Weekly Newes” in 1622, is regarded
as the father of English journalism. Printing
presses had been at work in England for 150 years
previously, but news had been published only in
stray sheets and pamphlets, issued at irregular
intervals, and without relation to each other.
Crude newspapers became comparatively numer-
ous during the commonwealth, and were freely
used to disseminate political opinions by both
royalists and puritans. They had quaint titles,
such as “The Scot’s Dove,” “The Parliament
Kite,” “The Secret Owl,” etc. With the restora-
tion a strict censorship of the press was resumed.
The first commercial newspaper, “The City Mer-
cury,” appeared in London in 1675; the first
literary journal “The Mercurius Librarius,” in
1680; and the first daily newspaper, the “Daily
Courant,” in 1709. “The London Times” first
appeared in 1785, under the name of “The Daily
Universal Register,” printed and published by
John Walter, of Printing House Square. Its
circulation at the commencement of the present
century was 1,000 copies daily, and the aggregate
circulation of all the other London daily news-
papers published at that time was 4,000 copies a
day. In 1815 the number of newspapers pub-
lished in the United Kingdom was 252, of which
fifty-five were in London, and fifteen of these
daily, 122 in the English provinces and Wales,
twenty-six in Scotland, and forty-nine in Ireland.
From the close of the Napoleonic wars the growth
of English journalism was remarkably rapid.
The reform excitement greatly increased the circu-
lation and influence of newspapers of every shade
and kind. In 1833 there were 400 newspapers
published in the United Kingdom, and 42,000,000
copies annually passed through the postoffices. In
1836 the reduction of the stamp duty still further
stimulated the growth of the press; and note-
worthy development continued after the repeal of
the advertisement duty in 1853, and of the com-
pulsory stamp in 1855. The prices were corre-
spondingly reduced, and new newspaper enter-
prises were abundant in all parts of the kingdom.
In 1880 there were 2,076 newspapers and 921
periodicals published in the United Kingdom.
Of newspapers, there were fourteen morning and
fourteen evening dailies published in London,
ninety-three dailies published in the remainder of
England, four in Wales, twenty-two in Scotland
and eighteen in Ireland. The daily circulation of
the London journals was placed in the same year
at 710,000, and that of all the daily newspapers in
Great Britain at 3,938,938. The aggregate circu-
lation per issue of all the periodical publications of
the kingdom was 29,279,204, and the total num-
ber of copies annually issued was 2,219,329,322. —
Since the removal of all fiscal restrictions the in-
crease in both the number and the circulation of
British newspapers has been much more rapid than
the increase in the population. The ratio of in-
crease in Great Britain still remains behind the same
ratio in the United States, and the development
of the British newspaper press differs from that of
the press in the latter country in several particu-
lars. — The first newspaper in America was Ben-
jamin Harris’ “Publick Occurrances Foreign and
Domestick,” at Boston, Mass. The first and only
number was issued Sept. 25, 1690, and it was ims
mediately suppressed by the colonial authorities,
as “a pamphlet published contrary to law and
containing reflections of a very high nature.”
April 24, 1704, John Campbell, postmaster at
Boston, issued “The Boston News Letter,” which
was continued weekly, under various auspices,
until 1776. The third newspaper, “The Boston
Gazette,” appeared Dec. 21, 1719. Andrew Brad.
ford issued the “American Weekly Mercury” at
Philadelphia, Dec. 22, 1719. James Franklin
established the “New England Courant” at Bos.
ton, Aug. 17, 1721. His attacks upon the govern-
ment, the clergy and private individuals, attracted
the attention of the general council, which in
1722 forbade Franklin to continue to publish the
“Courant,” “ or any other pamphlet or paper of
the like nature, unless it be first supervised by the
secretary of this province.” The next issue ap-
peared with the name of Benjamin Franklin at-
PRESS.
313
tached as publisher, the latter being then but six-
teen years of age, and an apprentice in the office.
For three years the “Courant” eluded super-
vision by this device. The “Philadelphia Mer-
cury,” then the only newspaper in the colonies
Outside of Boston, commented with severity upon
the re-establishment of the censorship in Massa-
chusetts. But only a few years before, the editor
of that paper had been summoned before the Penn-
sylvania governor and council, on account of
an article criticising the general assembly, and
compelled to make humble apology, receiving at
the same time intimation ‘‘ that he must not pre-
sume to publish anything relating to the affairs
of this or any other of his majesty's colonies,
without the permission of the governor or secre-
tary.” The first newspaper published in the
colony of New York was the “Gazette,” estab-
lished by William Bradford in 1725. The “New
York Weekly Journal,” the second periodical in
this colony, was established by John Peter
Zenger in 1733, avowedly for the purpose of op-
posing the government in the interests of the
popular party led by Rip Van Dam. Zenger's
paper may be called the prototype of the Ameri-
can political journal of to-day. Newspapers were
established in the remaining American colonies as
follows: in Maryland, at Annapolis, 1727; in South
Carolina, at Charleston, 1731; in Rhode Island,
at Newport, 1731; in Virginia, at Williamsburgh,
1736; in North Carolina, at New Berne, 1755; in
Nova Scotia, at Halifax, 1752; in Connecticut, at
New Haven, 1755; in New Hampshire, at Ports-
mouth, 1756; in Georgia, at Savannah, 1763; in
Quebec, 1765. By the latter year there had been
established in those American colonies which
afterward comprised the United States, forty-
three newspapers, of which eleven were located
in Massachusetts, eight in New York, five in
Pennsylvania, four in Connecticut, three in Rhode
Island, four in South Carolina, two in Maryland,
two in New Hampshire, two in North Carolina,
one in Georgia and one in Virginia. At the out-
break of the revolution there were thirty-seven
newspapers in existence in the colonies, eight of
which were devoted to the cause of the crown.
During the seventy-one years since the establish-
ment of Campbell’s “News Letter,” seventy-
eight papers had been started. This excessive
mortality, and the limited circulation of the jour-
Imals which survived, are among the evidences that
the influence of the colonial newspaper press was
not as important as is generally supposed, in
moulding the public sentiment which culminated
in the revolution. Much of the political contro-
versy of the period resorted to the tract or pam-
phlet. The temper of the colonial press during
this period was, as a rule, more conservative than
that of the people. The journals that were most
outspoken in the revolutionary cause, and most
influential in advancing it, were the “Boston Ga-
Zette,” which published the celebrated letters of
John Adams, Josiah Quincy, Jr., and others, and
the “Massachusetts Spy,” published by Isaiah
Thomas, who has preserved, in his “History of
Printing,” the only complete record of journalism
in the United States up to the year 1810. Dur-
ing the revolution the number of newspapers did
not increase. The precariousness of the business
was increased by the scarcity of paper and of print-
ing materials, which the colonists had not learned
to manufacture. The British occupation of the
cities of Boston, New York and Philadelphia,
which were the chief newspaper centres, success-
ively suspended the whig papers in those places,
or compelled their publishers to move to interior
towns. It has been estimated that the thirty-seven
papers of 1775 circulated 1,200,000 copies annual-
ly, a weekly average of 23,000 for a population of
2,800,000. Immediately upon the adoption of the
federal constitution the newspaper press received
an extraordinary stimulus from the Organization
of political parties and the exciting controversies
that followed. The press was engrossed in these
controversies, all but a dozen of the 362 journals
in existence in 1810 being warmly enlisted in the
cause of the federalist or the republican party.
Many men of versatility and talent were attached
to this partisan press. The personal bitterness
and vindictiveness which characterized much of
the newspaper controversy of this formative pe-
riod surpassed anything of the kind now common
in the respectable political press of the United
States. Among the journals of the period which
exerted a wide influence, were the “Columbian
Centinel,” established in Boston by Benjamin
Russell, in 1784, and conducted by him with great
ability for forty years; the “New York Minerva,”
established in 1793, and long ably edited by Noah
Webster, the lexicographer; the “New York
Evening Post,” established in 1801, as a central
organ of the federalists; the “Philadelphia Au-
rora,” established in 1790, by Benjamin Franklin
Bache, and edited after his death by William
Duane; the “Philadelphia National Gazette,” es-
tablished in 1791, by Philip Freneau; and the
“Washington National Intelligencer,” established
in 1800, by Samuel Harrison Smith. — The news-
paper press in the United States has kept even
pace with the development of the country. A
newspaper was started in Cincinnati in 1793; in
Vincennes, Indiana, in 1808; in St. Louis, in the
same year; and in Detroit, Michigan, in 1810.
The first daily newspaper appeared in Philadel-
phia in 1784, called the “Américan Daily Ad-
vertiser.” This was eighty-two years later than
the first daily in London, and seven years later
than the first daily regularly established in Paris.
The first New York daily paper was established
in 1785. All of the twenty-seven daily papers in
existence in 1810 were published in the Seven cities
of New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore,
New Orleans, Charleston, Alexandria, Va., and
Georgetown, S. C. The number of daily news-
papers published, increased to 138 in 1840; 254 in
1850; 387 in 1860; 574 in 1870; and 968 in 1880.
In 1860 the aggregate circulation of the daily
newspapers was 1,478,435; in 1870, 2,601,447; and
314
PRESS.
in 1880, 3,637,424, with an aggregate annual issue
of 1,135,532,466 in the latter year. The increase
in the number of daily newspapers between 1870
and 1880 was 69 per cent., and the increase in
their circulation 39 per cent. Several well-defined
causes have contributed to this remarkable growth
of the daily press in the United States. They
are, railroad development, with the corresponding
facilities for early distribution to distant points;
the telegraph, and the telegraphic collection of
news by associated press enterprise, enabling news-
papers published at distant points to print the
news of commercial and political centres simul-
taneously with its publication at these points; and
the improvement of the printing press, permitting
the printing of very large editions of a newspaper
in time for immediate distribution. Contempora-
neous with the operation of these causes came the
successful establishment of the cheap or penny
daily press in the large cities of the United States.
The first of these papers was the “New York
Sun,” established in 1833. The capacity of the
presses of this paper, at its origin, was 3,000 copies
for morning distribution. It now prints and dis-
tributes, before daylight, 147,000 copies six days
in the week.-The growth of the American weekly
press has been equally noteworthy. By the cen-
sus of 1880, prepared under the supervision of
the writer, it appeared that newspapers were pub-
lished in 2,072 of the 2,604 counties then existing.
Every state east of Missouri and north of the
Mason and Dixon line, supported a newspaper in
every county. There were 2,380 towns or vil-
lages where one newspaper was published; 1,018
in which two were published ; 395 with three
newspapers; 197 with four; and 324 in which five
or more newspapers or periodicals were published,
making a total of 4,314 cities, towns and villages
in which the 11,403 periodicals of the census year
were published. These figures indicate that tend-
ency to localization which is a distinguishing and
healthy characteristic of American journalism.
Each paper is champion and representative of its
particular locality, and this fact makes the Ameri-
can newspaper more and more a necessity, recog-
nized and welcomed as such in every community,
and in a constantly increasing number of families.
The number of periodical publications of all
classes in the United States, and their circulation,
at four censuses, is shown in the following table:
All Classes. Dailies.
YEARS
Number. Circulation. Number. Circulation.
1850------ 2,526 5,142,177 254 758,454
1860------ 4,051 13,663,409 387 1,478,435
1870------ 5,871 20,842 475 574 2,601,547
1880- - - - - - 11,403 31,177,924 980 3,637,424
Weeklies. All others.
YEARS - -
Number. Circulation. Number. Circulation.
1850------ 1,902 2,944,629 370 1,439,094
1860------ 3,173 7,581,930 491 4,603,044
1870------ 4,295 10,594,643 1,002 7,646,285
1880------ 8,718 19,459,107 1,705 8,081,393
In 1880 there were 2,077,659,675 copies of peri-
Odicals and newspapers printed in the United
States. Their net earnings were $87,441,132.22,
of which 46.21 per cent. was from subscriptions
and Sales, and 53.79 per cent. from advertisements.
There were 54,654 persons employed in manufact-
ure, and 16,489 in the editorial capacity. —2. We
have thus hastily outlined the history of an ele-
ment in civilization which was unknown and un-
dreamed of two and a half centuries ago, and the
influence of which, upon politics, upon society,
and upon governments, it is difficult to accurate-
ly measure, while well-nigh impossible to over-
estimate. The truism was discovered at the very
dawn of printing, that a free press and an absolute
government are incompatible with each other.
The history of the newspaper press for two cent-
uries was the iterated demonstration of this fact;
and the degree of freedom accorded to the press
is everywhere to-day the index of the freedom of
the institutions of every nation where the art of
printing is practiced. In the infancy of the art it
was easy to keep it under complete governmental
control and surveillance, and such was the uni-
versal practice. The church of Rome naturally
originated the press censorship, as a function es-
sential to the integrity of religion and the prop-
er teaching of the people. Pope Alexander VI.
(Borgia) first placed the authority of the church
over printed books in definite form in 1501, and
in 1515 it was formally decreed by the council of
the Lateran that no publications whatever should
be issued from any place where the church had
jurisdiction, unless such printed work had first
obtained the written sanction of the bishop, or of
the inquisitor of the diocese. All Catholic coun-
tries accepted this censorship, and in all of them
it extended gradually, with the growth of polit-
ical printing, from the ecclesiastical to the civil
power. The gradual and varying modifications
that have been forced in the degree and character
of this governmental regulation of the press, con-
stitute an interesting chapter in the history of
every European state. Whatever of freedom the
press has gained anywhere, except as the result of
revolutions, has been forced piecemeal from un-
willing governments; so that the relations of the
government to the press differ as widely to-day
as the governments themselves differ, and very
much in accordance with the differing character-
istics of these governments. The history of the
press of France has been one of frequent varia-
tion between rigid censorship and a complete
liberty, leading constantly to license. Soon after
the invention of printing, the university of Paris
established a tariff for the sale of books, and ex-
ercised a general supervision over them, in the
interests of both church and state. The censor-
ship passed to the chancellor of the kingdom in
1653. He appointed four royal censors, and with-
out the approval of one of them no writing could
be printed or sold, and no dramatic piece pro-
duced. With the nominal press freedom which
existed in France under the second Napoleon, it is

PRESS.
315
shown in a recent legislative report to the national
assembly, that there were 6,000 prosecutions of
publishers during his reign. This was equivalent,
in its effects upon newspaper utterances in politi-
cal matters, to the control which the censorship
is able to exert. The French press laws under
the third republic reserved in the government the
right of summary suppression of journals whose
utterances are adjudged obnoxious to the public
peace and security. In Switzerland the censor-
ship was abolished in 1830, but the laws regulat-
ing political expressions in the press are extremely
rigid. In Sweden, Norway, The Netherlands,
Belgium and Denmark, no censorship now exists;
but the civil penalties for the violation of the press
laws are very severe, particularly in Denmark.
In Spain the constitution of 1837 abolished the
press censorship, and offenses against the laws
committed in the press were made triable by jury.
After the political reaction of 1866 the journals
of that country again suffered from constant
official prosecution and arbitrary suspension, and
they continue still to do so. In Germany the
government censorship in the seventeenth century
restricted newspapers to official publications in
news matters. In 1819 a decree of the bundestag
placed the German press under a severe censor-
ship, which greatly checked a growth previously
rapid. Many radical journals were suppressed
in 1833, and these suppressions continue in the
empire at frequent intervals. . After the accession
of Pope Pius the Ninth in 1846, Italy produced a
large number of new journals, chiefly revolution-
ary, which were discontinued in 1849, when, with
the exception of Sardinia, the Italian press was
again placed under restraint until 1859–60. The
changes of these years conferred an almost com-
plete freedom upon the Italian press, and brought
into existence a large number of new political
journals. Russia retains to-day as arbitrary a
form of the censorship as has ever existed. The
newspaper publisher in that country must first
obtain permission to print, then lodge 1,500 rou-
bles as caution money, after which he becomes
subject to a régime of “admonitions,” two of
which enfail a suspension for the period of two
months. Those who cannot afford to lodge caution
money (which is forfeited in case of a suppression)
are compelled to submit to a preventive censor-
ship, by sending their articles to the censors three
days in advance of publication. In provincial
towns, where there are no censors, journalism is
non-existent. — In England the gradual advance
of journalism from legal outlawry to a position
of substantial freedom, presents an interesting
evolution, identified in all its stages with the de-
velopment of constitutional government in that
country. At the reformation the crown assumed
the functions of press censorship previously exer-
cised in England by the church of Rome. In
1637 periodical publications had become so fre-
quent that a general system of censorship was es-
tablished by decree of the star chamber, which
an act of parliament confirmed in 1643. This con-
tinued until the civil war and the commonwealth,
during which the press was nearly free and un-
molested. Cromwell's opinion was well expressed
in the remark with which he is said to have or-
dered the release of Harrington’s “Oceana,”
which had been seized as libelous. “Let him
take his book,” he said: “if my government is
made to stand, it has nothing to fear from paper
shot.” He conceded liberty of printing, not as a
right of the citizen, but in contempt of its influ-
ence and effect. One of the first measures under
Charles II. was the suppression of the newspa-
pers. In 1660 an order from the council of state
stopped the “Mercurius Politicus,” and granted
to two persons, Muddiman and Giles, authority to
publish the news on Mondays and Thursdays.
Another act forbade the publication of the pro-
ceedings of parliament, which had been a Com-
mon occurrence in the commonwealth. Subse-
quently Roger L'Estrange was appointed Surveyor
of the imprimary and printing presses, and a royal
patent granted him “the sole privilege of writing,
printing and publishing all narratives, advertise-
ments, mercuries, intelligencers, diurnals, and
other books of public intelligence.” The “Intel-
ligencer,” which appeared under this patent Aug.
31, 1663, set forth in its title that it was published
by royal permission, for the satisfaction and in-
formation of the public. It was succeeded by
the “Iondon Gazette’’ in 1665, and later by the
‘‘ Observator.” Neither the “Gazette’’ nor any
supplementary broadside published by authority
ever contained intelligence that did not accord
with the Sentiment and plans of the court. On
the other hand, the unlicensed press, afraid of
political discussion, indulged in immoral and cor-
rupting publications in an unprecedented degree
— a consequence which has followed the attempt
at government control in many countries. At
the revolution of 1688 L’Estrange was dismissed,
but the office of licensed printer was not abolished.
It is extremely significant of the Small importance
still popularly attached to the public press as a
method of political agitation and reform, that no
allusion to the liberty of the press was made in
the bill of rights or the act of settlement. The
whig government was involved in numerous con-
troversies by the character of political publica-
tions which received the license of L’Estrange's
successors, and the system of licensing was form-
ally abolished in 1694 by the refusal of parliament
to renow the act establishing it. Macaulay de-
clares that this refusal, although Scarcely noticed
at the time “did more for liberty and for civilization
than the great charter or the bill of rights.” Reg-
ular newspapers began at Once to appear, and the
healthy growth of the British press dates from
this event. The publication of political news was
still, however, regarded as illegal. In the reign of
Charles II, the judges had pronounced it a misde-
meanor at common law to publish political intelli-
gence without the king's license. It was the policy
of the whigs to connive at the discreet violation
of this rule, and many political journals continued
316
PRESS.
to appear, particularly during the struggle upon
the exclusion bill. But the rule remained, and,
in addition to it, parliament began to assume and
exercise that control over the press which had
formally belonged to the censor and the licenser.
During the reign of Queen Anne there were nu-
merous acts of great severity against printers and
political writers, in most instances acts of purely
political persecution. Thus, Steele was expelled
for political libels; DeFoe was punished in the
pillory for publishing his “Shortest Way with Dis-
senters”; Tutchin, editor of a paper, by order of
the house was whipped by the hangman; Well-
man, editor of the “Mercurius Rusticus,” Dyer,
editor of the “News Letter,” and Fogg, proprie-
tor of “Mist's Journal,” were compelled on their
knees to express contrition to the commons.
Tracts, books, and newspapers were frequently
Ordered publicly burned by the hangman. The
house of commons claimed for itself collectively,
and for each of its members in his parliamentary
capacity, complete exemption from criticism in
the press. It resolved, “that to print or publish
any books or libels reflecting upon the proceedings
of the house of commons, or any member thereof,
for or relating to his service therein, is a high vio-
lation of the rights and privileges of the house.”
In the meanwhile the first daily newspaper had
appeared ; every large provincial town had its
weekly; newspaper reading was increasing; and
the power of the press as a new political factor
was necessarily recognized in official quarters.
This rapid development continued, though greatly
checked, notwithstanding the fact that in 1812 the
tory ministers of Queen Anne, finding that the
whig press, by its ability and force of invective,
was undermining their influence in the nation,
had, with a view to its repression, imposed a
stamp duty of one half-penny on every newspaper
or pamphlet containing half a sheet or less, the
tax rising to one penny on a whole sheet. At the
same time a tax of one shilling on every adver-
tisement, and also a duty on paper and foreign
books, were imposed. These taxes were the first
affirmative action of parliament negativing the
common law doctrine that a political newspaper
had no right to exist. It is notorious that this
recognition was accorded only as a method of more
effective restraint. It is remarkable, in view of
their origin, that these taxes upon knowledge
should have continued to exist in England, with
various modifications, for nearly a century and a
half. By gradual steps the stamp duty on news-
papers rose until it had increased to four pence in
the reign of George III. After the passage of the
reform act the demand for cheap newspapers be-
came so great that unstamped and illegal publi-
cations abounded. The government of Lord Mel-
bourne, finding it impossible to suppress them by
fines and imprisonment, reduced the duty to one
penny in 1836; the paper tax was reduced; and the
duty on advertisements, which had risen to the
enormous sum of three shillings and six pence for
each advertisement in Great Britain, and two shil-
lings and six pence in Ireland, was reduced to one
shilling and six pence in England, and to one
shilling in Ireland. Several government prose-
cutions against the publishers of unstamped
newspapers had previously failed with juries.
The effect of these taxes upon the circulation
of English newspapers can be judged from the
fact that at the time of this reduction the peri-
odical press of the United States had already
passed that of Great Britain in number, while its
aggregate annual circulation was nearly double
that of the British press, although the population
of the United States, by the census of 1830, was
only half that of Great Britain in the same year.
About 1850 there occurred in Great Britain a
widely organized movement for the release of the
press from these fiscal restrictions, which resulted,
in 1853, in the repeal of the duty on advertise-
ments, and, two years later, in the abolition of the
penny stamp on newspapers. The duty on paper
remained unrepealed until 1861. The circulation
of newspapers increased, as a result of the repeal,
according to Edward Baines, from 38,648,314
copies annually in 1831, to 546,059,400 annually
in 1861, with an accompanying increase in popu-
lation of but 30 per cent. — One of the longest
and most exciting contests for the enlargement
of the privileges of the press, had relation to the
publication of parliamentary debates. From the
restoration to 1729, newspaper reports of the par-
liamentary proceedings were unknown. In that
year fragmentary reports of opposition speeches
gave rise to a ministerial protest against this viola-
tion of the privileges of the house and of the
lords. Sir Robert Walpole urged that if parlia-
mentary proceedings were to be reported at all,
they ought to be reported fully and openly. The
custom of the press was to print fragments of
parliamentary speeches as though they were imag.
inary, designating their authors by initials or nick-
names. The commons resolved that all reporting
was a breach of privilege, on the singular ground
that it tended to make members of parliament
answerable to their constituencies instead of to
their own consciences ; and this remains the par-
liamentary theory to this day. One of the stand-
ing orders still forbids any newspaper to pub-
lish a report of anything said or done within the
halls of parliament. For breaches of this privi-
lege numbers of printers, some of them at every
session for years, were fined £100. Reports con-
tinued to be printed, however, at great personal
risks, and with numerous punishments. In 1764
Mores, editor of the “Evening Post,” paid a fine
of £100 for mentioning the name of Lord Here-
ford in his paper. In 1771 the contest was finally
abandoned, after a memorable struggle, which
began over the arrest of two printers for publish.
ing the debates, involved the arrest and impris-
onment of the Lord Mayor of London and another
city magistrate, and aroused popular excitement
almost to the verge of revolution. The agitations
which had preceded this triumph of the press, in
which the celebrated John Wilkes, editor of the
PRESS.
317
“North Briton,” was the central figure, had done
more than aught else to identify the liberty of
the press with the liberty of the people in the
popular mind, and to restrain the governmental
control of printing. In the famous No. 45 of
the “North Briton,” dated April 23, 1763, Wilkes
attacked with great bitterness the king's speech
closing parliament, pronouncing it “the most
abandoned instance of ministerial effrontery ever
attempted to be imposed upon mankind.” The
ministry preferred to regard this and similar ex-
pressions as direct attacks upon the personal ve-
racity of the sovereign. Although Wilkes was
then the member from Aylesbury, and therefore
protected by the vague and formidable panoply of
parliamentary privilege, he was proceeded against
by the direct orders of the king. The secretary
of state, Lord Halifax, issued a general warrant
directing the arrest of “the authors, printers and
publishers” of the “North Briton,” and the
seizure of the incriminated numbers. Wilkes re-
sisted arrest, but was seized, and confined in the
tower. He was released upon a writ of habeas
corpus, Chief Justice Pratt declaring that “war-
rants to search for, seize and carry away ” papers
on a charge of libel were contrary to law. The
arrest was also declared illegal on the ground
that parliamentary privilege protected the per-
son of a member in all cases save treason, fel-
ony and actual breach of the peace, and that a
libel, though it might tend to produce the lat-
ter offense, could not be regarded as itself a
breach of the peace. From this signal triumph
in the courts, Wilkes passed to the more arbitrary
tribunal of parliament, where his privileges were
in vain interposed to prevent summary expulsion.
The case of Wilkes was one of many which made
the reign of George III. a continued crusade
against the newspapers, carried on with such vin-
dictive determination that the English press may
trace the larger part of its present privileges to the
reaction which resulted. In the year 1764 no less
than 200 informations were filed against printers
in behalf of the crown. In the whole thirty-three
years of the preceding reign, there had not been
so many press prosecutions. Hitherto, when the
author of a libel was known, he alone was prose-
cuted for it. The custom was now introduced of
involving the printers also in the prosecution.
Quite naturally the political discussions in the
press grew more virulent then ever, while the
popular conviction that the judges were illegally
endeavoring in press cases to restrain the freedom
of discussion, tended to make London juries ex-
ceedingly tender of incriminated printers. In
1769 the letters of “Junius” began to appear. No ||
previous writer in the English press had assailed
the government and its members, the parliament,
and even the king himself, with the freedom, the
force, the daring vindictiveness, that marked the
Series of letters in Woodfall’s “Public Adver-
tiser,” written by this unknown, unscrupulous
and unprecedented critic. For nearly a year the
letters and libels of “Junius” continued without
notice from the authorities. When the letter to
the king appeared, in which the latter was accused
of cowardice, the attorney general prosecuted
Woodfall, who had published it, and Almon and
Miller, who had reprinted it. In the case of Wood-
fall, the chief offender, Lord Mansfield clearly laid
down the doctrine that the libelous character of
the article complained of was a question for the
judge, and not for the jury. The jury responded
with a special and irregular verdict of “guilty of
printing and publishing only.” This verdict was
set aside, and a new trial ordered. In the mean-
while, Miller had been tried and acquitted by the
jury, amid unmistakable demonstrations of popu-
lar approval. In the existing temper of London
juries, the retrial of Woodfall promised only dis-
comfiture to the government, and the case was
abandoned. Thereafter, in the words of Lecky,
the historian, ‘‘the torrent of libel flowed on un-
checked and unrestrained.”—But the legal rights
and position of English newspapers continued a
danger to publishers and a perplexity to judges
and juries. The doctrine of libel laid down by
Mansfield in the Woodfall case, was that of a
long succession of eminent judges. The first
traces of it are found in the decisions of Coke,
and it may be called the natural outgrowth of the
censorship and licensing systems, with which it is
contemporaneous. It had its origin in times when
the very act of printing was regarded as illegiti-
mate, and an encroachment upon the prerogatives
of the sovereign. The parliament fortified the
judges in this view of the case. The action of
the commons in excepting libels from the list of
offenses that were covered by parliamentary priv-
ilege, shows the prevailing judgment at a period
when the periodical press was becoming a recog-
nized and important element in the current civili-
zation. The desire to withdraw press cases from
the cognizance and control of juries was as strong
with parliament as with the crown and its agents.
By the old method of ea:-officio informations, the
attorney general was able to send offending pub-
lishers to trial without the previous assent of
grand juries; and when the trials took place, the
judges enforced a doctrine of libel that almost
transferred the decision from the juries to them-
selves. This law of libel was accepted by Holt,
one of the greatest and most constitutional of
English judges. Under George II. the question
of its soundness had been raised, in the prosecu-
tions of “The Craftsman.” Lord Mansfield him-
self declared that for fourteen years he had uni-
formly laid down this doctrine without encounter-
ing question, and with the unanimous concurrence
of associate judges. To amend or determine this
law of libel, so as to bring the question of motive
and of intention within the jurisdiction of jurics,
became, during the reign of George III., one of
the great objects of the whig party, which was
stimulated to agitate the question by the popular
interest in it growing out of repeated prosecu-
tions regarded as arbitrary. The enacting bill of
Dowdeswell appears to have been chiefly the work
318
PRESS.
of Burke; it was introduced and defeated in 1770.
But the great authority in support of the popular
view of the libel law, was Lord Camden, chief
justice of the common pleas, who strenuously
maintained throughout his public career that the
decision of the whole case, in libel suits, belonged
to the jury. He lived to see his view vindicated
in 1792, and that, not by an enacting law, but by
the declaratory act of Mr. Fox, entitled “An act
to remove doubts respecting the functions of ju-
ries in cases of libel.” This act asserted that Lord
Camden’s view of the libel law had always been
the correct one. The real freedom of the English
newspaper press dates from its passage, 100 years
after the abolition of the censorship. Previous
to this declaratory act the theory of the English
law, and, so far as juries would permit, its prac-
tice, was as laid down by Holt in the case of
Tutchin, that to possess the people with an evil
opinion of the government, that is, of the min-
istry, is a libel. A practical illustration of the
meaning of the law was given as late as 1792, in
the case of Sampson Perry, editor of the “Argus,”
who was tried and convicted of libel for saying
in his paper that “the house of commons are not
the real representatives of the people.” This law
rested upon the logic that there can be no reflec-
tion upon those who are in office under the king,
without casting the like reflection upon the king,
who employs them. Hence the deduction, that
such a reflection was none the less a libel because
it was true; and hence the final deduction, that
the greater the truth the greater the libel. In the
system of government which had been growing
up in England this theory resulted in a legal bar
to freedom of political discussion, because it was
in effect a bar to the discussion of the acts, mo-
tives and general conduct of the parliamentary
majority sustaining a king's ministry, and thus it
practically barred any political discussion what-
soever by the newspaper press. The law of li-
bel, up to the passage of this declaratory act, was
merely a protection of the kingly prerogative,
defended on that ground alone, and maintained
by English jurists of high repute, long years after
these prerogatives of the king which the libel law
was framed to guard, had ceased to be regard-
ed as a part of the English constitution. Lord
Campbell's commentary upon the act of 1792
wholly sustains this view of the libel law made
obsolete by that act. “Now that the mist of prej-
udice has cleared away,” he says in his “Lives
of the Chancellors” (vol. vii., p. 47), “I believe
that English lawyers almost unanimously think
that Lord Camden’s view of the question was
correct on strict legal principles; and that the"
act was properly made to declare the right of
the jury to determine upon the character of
the alleged libel, instead of enacting it as an
innovation.” — At the common law it remains
an indictable offense to publish anything against
the constitution of the country, or the established
system of government. It was after the act of
1792 that Thomas Paine was indicted and found
y
guilty of the publication of “The Rights of Man,”
notwithstanding the unsurpassed plea of Erskine
for the liberty of the press, in his defense. Nu-
merous similar prosecutions occurred during the
French revolution and at later periods. If such
governmental prosecutions of the press have prac-
tically ceased in Great Britain, it is not because
the power to enforce them is not dormant in the
common law. Desuetude, however, may be held
to have abrogated the law. It remains an offense
punishable by fine and imprisonment at common
law to publish any attack upon the Christian re-
ligion. However inoffensive in language and pur-
pose such an attack may be, it still remains, ac-
cording to Mr. Justice Stephen, a blasphemous
libel, notwithstanding the fact that the govern-
ment of Great Britain long since ceased to hold
that the dissentient from the creed of the estab-
lished church is an enemy of the state and of re-
ligion. The modification of public opinion on
this subject, running in parallel grooves with the
changes that have taken place in the law of news-
paper libel, is indicated by the proposition intro-
duced by the government in 1881, as a part of
the criminal code, which, when adopted, will re-
move this anomaly from British law. “No one
is guilty of blasphemous libel,” says this proposi-
tion, “for expressing in good faith and decent
language, or attempting to establish by argu-
ments used in good faith and conveyed in decent
language, any opinion whatever upon any relig-
ious subject.” This clause, when adopted, will
convey no protection to men like the publisher of
the “Free Thinker,” who was convicted in 1883
of blasphemous libel, and sentenced to one year's
imprisonment, for the publication of a paper
outrageously caricaturing the Saviour. Similar
prosecutions are now unknown in the United
States. – Turning now to the relations of the gov-
ernment to the press in the United States, we find
a different history, a fact largely due to the cir-
cumstance that the emancipation of the newspa-
per from government surveillance was practically
effected in England before the American press
had become a powerful element in the social and
political life of this country. We have seen, how-
ever, that, in all the British-American colonies
where the press appeared in the Seventeenth cent-
ury, the attempt was uniformly made to intro-
duce the British system of rigid censorship. The
general court of Massachusetts colony appointed
two persons, in 1662, licensers of the press, and
prohibited the publication of any books which .
should not be supervised by them. There was
never under the jurisdiction of the star chamber,
a more inquisitorial and intolerant censorship of
the printing press than existed in this colony
down to about 1725. This censorship put sudden
end to the first journalistic enterprise in America;
it imprisoned the printer, Fowle, on Suspicion,
reprimanded and imprisoned the plucky Frank-
lin, and sought without success to supervise his
newspaper. Even the laws were not at first pub-
lished for general circulation. The magistrates
PRESS.
319
of Massachusetts, when compelled by popular
demand to permit the publication of the general
laws in 1649, did so under protest, alleging it “a
hazardous experiment.” There were numerous
instances of the public burning of books, as of.
fenders against public order. This was the fate
of Eliot's volume in defense of unmixed princi-
ples of popular freedom, and Calef's book against
Cotton Mather. The first printer in Virginia was
summoned before Lord Culpepper in 1681, and
compelled to enter into bonds “not to print any-
thing hereafter until the king's pleasure shall be
known.” His offense had been the publication
of the laws of a session of the assembly. In 1683,
when Lord Effingham followed as governor of
Virginia, he brought with him instructions from
the ministry “to allow no person to use a printing
press on any occasion whatever.” From that date
until 1729 no printing was allowed in Virginia;
and from 1729 until ten years before the revolu-
tion, Virginia had but one printing press, and
even that was known to be “too much under the
control of the governor.” But Virginia was not
an exception as an illustration of the policy of the
British government toward the colonial press.
Down to the advent of revolutionary times the
royal instructions to the governors of all the col-
onies continued to contain the clause invented in
the time of the Stuarts and reading thus: “And
forasmuch as great inconvenience may arise by
the liberty of printing within our province, you
are to provide by all necessary orders that no
person keep any press for printing, nor that any
pamphlet, book, or other matters whatsoever he
printed without your special leave and license
first obtained.”— In the colony of Pennsylvania
the predominating Quaker element showed the
same intolerance of the printing press that distin-
guished the Puritans in New England. William
Bradford, the first printer in the colony, was also
the first man anywhere on the continent to main-
tain its freedom against arbitrary power. In 1689
a schism occurred between the governor and the
people, in the course of which Bradford was in-
duced to print the charter. Anticipating trouble,
he did not put his name as printer upon the
title page. He was immediately summoned be-
fore the governor and council, with a view to fix-
ing upon him, by his own admission, the respon-
sibility for the illegal act. Refusing to accuse
himself, and denying the oxistence of an imprima-
tur, the governor informed him that he was im-
primatur, that Penn had given “particular order
for the suppressing of printing in his province; ”
and he was put under a bond of £500 to print
nothing “save what the governor did allow of.”
Again, in 1792, during a quarrel between factions
of the quakers, Bradford printed a tract, without
his name attached, presenting the arguments of
the faction out of power. He was arrested, and
the sheriff, searching his office, took possession of
his tools, types, and the form from which the ob-
noxious pamphlet had been printed. After a
long confinement, Bradford's trial took place be-
fore two Quaker judges. Bradford conducted
the defense in person, and managed it, says the
contemporary account of David Paul Brown,
“with a fearlessness, force, acuteness and skill
which speak very highly for his intelligence and
accurate conception of legal principles.” Brad-
ford insisted, in defense, that the jury should be
permitted to be judges both as to the fact that
he was the printer, and of the character of the
publication, whether or not it was seditious, as al-
leged. Although the judges overruled this claim,
it is worthy of attention, in the words of Brad-
ford’s biographer, John William Wallace, that
“ the father of the press in the middle colonies as-
serted in 1692, with a precision not since surpassed,
a principle in the law of libel hardly then con-
ceived anywhere, but which now protects every
publication in much of our Union; a principle
which English judges, after the struggles of the
greaf whig chief justice and chancellor, Lord
Camden, through his whole career, and of the
brilliant declaimer, Mr. Erskine, were unable to
reach; and which at a later day became finally
established in England only by the enactment of
Mr. Fox's libel bill in parliament itself.” Gulian
C. Verplanck has traced the origin of Mr. Fox's
bill of 1792 directly to Bradford's position and
efforts in this trial. The jury in the case failed to
agree, and Bradford was returned to jail for trial
at the next session of the court. In the mean-
while, Gov. Fletcher, of the colony of New York,
being also governor of Pennsylvania, secured his
release, and induced him to migrate to New York,
where there was as yet no printing press. The as-
sembly of the latter colony had voted in 1693 to
allow the sum of £40 per annum to any printer
who “will come and settle in the city of New
York for the printing of our acts of assembly and
publick papers,” and “to have the benefit of his
printing besides what serves the publick.”— Ar-
riving in New York, Bradford was at once ap-
pointed royal printer. This office of printer to
the crown, which Bradford held under William
and Mary, Queen Anne, George I. and George
II., first appears in his case. The next success-
ful assertion of the liberty of the press in America
occurred in the colony of New York in 1735,
in the famous trial of John Peter Zenger, editor
and publisher of the “New York Journal,” the
organ of the popular party, and opposed to the
administration of Gov. Cosby, which found a
warm newspaper supporter in Bradford’s paper.
The columns of Zenger's “Journal’’ were filled
with sharp gibes, Satires and criticisms upon the
government, in both prose and verse, undoubtedly
libelous, and ultimately so annoying that he was
arrested upon an information laid by the attorney
general. The papers containing the “false, Scan
dalous and seditious libels” complained of were
ordered burned by the common hangman in the
presence of the mayor and magistrates of the city,
and Zenger lay nine months in prison before he
could secure a trial. At the trial the judges re-
fused to admit evidence intended to show the
320
PRESS.
truth of the libels, following the principle of law
which had then recently been reaffirmed in Eng-
land, in the case of Franklin for the publica-
tion of a libel in the “Craftsman.” The defense
was made by Andrew Hamilton, of Philadelphia,
in a speech which is now classic as a vindication
of the liberty of the press. Hamilton asserted
the right of the jury to judge of the law and the
facts, and in defiance of the peremptory charge of
the court, a verdict of “not guilty” was returned.
Remarkable demonstrations of popular approval
greeted the verdict. Great importance is attached
by historians to the influence of this trial upon
the political destinies of America. Gouverneur
Morris hailed it as “the dawn of that liberty
which afterward revolutionized America.” It
was the last serious attempt made by the royal
authorities to control the press of the colonies.
Bancroft declares, that, in spite of the censorship
which had existed and continued to be claimed,
“the press in America was generally as free as in
any part of the world.” — In every colony, the
breaking loose from England appears to have been
accepted as abrogating inherited laws and customs
which involved either censorship or the govern-
mental scrutiny of the political utterances of the
book or periodical press. As colony after colony
organized state governments, the freedom of the
press, under the restrictions which still obtain for
the regulation and restraint of its utterances with
respect to individuals, was recognized in the con-
stitutions as a cardinal feature of free institutions.
The bill of rights accompanying the constitution
of Virginia (1776) declared “that the freedom of
the press is one of the great bulwarks of liberty,
and can never be restrained but by despotic gov-
ernments.” The first constitution of Vermont
(1777) declared that “The people have a right to
freedom of speech and of printing and publishing
their sentiments concerning the transactions of
government, and therefore the freedom of the
press ought not to be restrained.” Similar decla-
rations were made either in the constitutions or
the bills of rights of New Hampshire, Massachu-
setts, Pennsylvania, North and South Carolina,
Georgia and Maryland. In the subsequent modi-
fications of the state constitutions, not one of the
thirty-eight states has omitted a clause guarantee-
ing freedom of speech and of the press. These
provisions vary in their explicitness, some of them
including definitions and restrictions which in
other states have been embodied in the statutory
or common law. The most common form is that
incorporated in the constitution of New York by
the convention of 1821, as follows: “Every citi-
Zen may freely write, speak and publish his senti-
ments on all subjects, being responsible for the
abuse of that right, and no law shall be passed
to restrain the liberty of speech or of the press.
In all prosecutions or indictments for libels, the
truth may be given in evidence to the jury, and
if it shall appear to the jury, that the matter
charged as libelous is true, and was published
with good motives and for justifiable ends, the
party shall be acquitted, and the jury shall have
the right to determine the law and the fact.”
Several of the states, as Pennsylvania, Delaware
and South Carolina, especially protect newspa-
per criticism upon public officers, the constitu-
tion of Pennsylvania reading as follows: “That
the printing press shall be free to every one
who undertakes to examine the proceedings of
the legislature, or any branch of the govern-
ment, and no law shall ever be made to restrain
the right thereof. The free communication of
thoughts and opinions is one of the inviolable
rights of man, and every citizen may freely write
and print on any subject, being responsible for
the abuse of that liberty. In the prosecutions for
publication of papers investigating the official
conduct of officers or men of public capacity,
or where the matter published is proper for pub-
lic information, the truth thereof may be given
in evidence ; and in all indictments for libels
the jury shall have a right to determine the law
and the facts, under the direction of the courts,
as in other cases; ” and to this was added, in
the amended constitution of 1873, an important
modification of phraseology, as follows: “No
conviction shall be had in any prosecution for the
publication of papers relating to the official con-
duct of officers or men in public capacity, or to
any other matter proper for public investigation
or information, where the fact that such publi-
cation was not maliciously or negligently made
shall be established to the satisfaction of the
jury.” It is clear that these provisions were in-
serted in the organic law of the states for the pur-
pose of uprooting that doctrine of the English
common law with which they are at variance, and
which was not reversed in the mother country by
Mr. Fox’s libel bill until 1792. But in most Of
the states there ensued a protracted struggle, be-
fore the courts were driven to surrender the privi-
lege, borrowed from the common law of England,
of passing upon the question of the libelous
character of a publication, leaving to the jury
only the determination of the fact of publication.
The press, as an agency in the determination of
political questions, was still deprecated by public
men. The constitutional convention of 1787, sat
with closed doors, and the injunction of secrecy
upon its members was never formally removed.
The federal senate for a time followed this ex-
ample, and the first open debate was had in 1793
on the occasion of the controversy over the right
of Mr. Gallatin to a seat in that body. This
broke the spell of deliberations in secret conclave,
and it is noteworthy that the secret executive
session which is still retained is a remnant of the
custom thereafter abandoned with respect to leg-
islative business. The federal constitution, as
originally framed, contained no provision touch-
ing the freedom of the press, the proposition of
Charles Pinckney, of South Carolina, that “the
legislature of the United States shall pass no law
touching or abridging the liberty of the press,”
having been ignored by the body which framed
PRESS.
321
the instrument. The omission was remedied by
the first congress, which by way of amendment
resolved that “congress shall make no law re-
specting an establishment of religion, or prohibit-
ing the freg exercise thereof, or abridging the
freedom of speech or of the press, or the right of
the people peaceably to assemble and to petition
the government for a redress of grievances.”
The law of political libel in the United States
may be said to have originated with the enact-
ment of the sedition law, July 14, 1798. It was
enacted while the federal government was yet
new and untried, and many men feared that the
breath of the heated party discussions which then
absorbed the periodical press, might tumble the
fabric about their heads. It is an historical fact
that the men chiefly instrumental in giving its
turn and tone to the American journalism of the
period were of alien birth and without repub-
lican training. Among them were Williaul Cob-
bett, James Thompson Callender, William Duane,
Joseph Gales, and some twenty others, all of
whom were attached to newspapers opposed to
the administration of Adams and the federal par-
ty, and were conspicuous for the violence of their
journalistic warfare. The sedition law had a di-
rect tendency to produce the state of things it
was passed to suppress. Its constitutionality was
denied by the party opposed to the administration,
and may well be questioned to-day, notwithstand-
ing the fact, that, in several of the numerous trials
which took place under it, this objection was de-
cided in favor of the law; and inasmuch as it
cxpired by its own limitation and was 11ever re-
pealed, the decisions in favor of its constitution-
ality may be said to have raised the presumption
of such a right in congress with respect to the
press of the several states. The unpopularity of
the sedition act made it largely influential among
the causes of the final overthrow of the federalists;
and, in the words of Judge Cooley, “it is impossi-
ble to conceive at the present time of any such
state of things as would be likely to bring about
its re-enactment, or the passage of any similar re-
pressive statute.” Out of the bitter feelings ex-
cited by this act grew many retaliatory political
libel suits in the state courts, the most important
of which was that of the People vs. Croswell, in
the supreme court of New York, Feb. 13, 1804.
It was an indictment against Croswell for an
alleged libel upon Jefferson, then president; and
Chief Justice Morgan Lewis, who tried the case,
rejected Croswell’s offer to prove the truth of the
charges in the libel, charging the jury that the
question of libel or no libel was a question of law,
a legal inference from the facts; that if the jury
were satisfied that the defendant published the
matter complained of, they ought to find him
guilty; that the intent of the publisher, and
whether the publication in question was libelous
or not were to be decided exclusively by the court.
Therefore it was not his duty to give any opinion
to the jury upon those points. He cited the
opinion of Lord Mansfield in the case of the Dean
140 VOL. III. — 21
of St. Asaph, and declared that to be the law in
the State of New York. The case was made fa-
mous, on appeal, by the strenuous effort to lift this
judge-made common law of England from the
jurisprudence of New York. Alexander Hamil-
ton made the last, and in some respects the most
brilliant, Oratorical effort of his life, in denuncia-
tion of the assumption of the court, as grossly in-
consistent with the genius of American institu-
tions in relation to political publications. The
court was evenly divided, and the opinion of the
chief justice still stood as the law. It was on this
Occasion that Judge Kent, adopting the language.
of Alexander Hamilton, crystallized in a single
sentence the doctrine of libel which is now ac-
cepted in all the states, so far as relates to political
publications: “Nothing is a libel which is written
and published from good motives and for justifia-
ble ends; and to show this, the truth of the facts
charged as libelous may be given in evidence, and
this, whether against public measures, public
officers or private citizens.” The decision in the
Croswell case led to the passage of a declaratory
act, by the legislature of New York, requiring the
judges to permit the truth to be given in evidence
in all libel cases. Political press prosecutions, in-
stituted by the government authorities, have since
ceased altogether in the United States. That the
federal government retains a latent control over
the press is, however, the conclusion to be drawn
from the action of that government during the
late civil war, first, in excluding from the mails
newspapers charged with treasonable utterances,
and again, in the temporary suppression of
various New York journals, and particularly
the “World,” for the publication of a forged
proclamation of President Lincoln. The right of
the government to tax newspapers was also as-
serted during the same war, by the internal rev-
enue tax upon advertisements, which yielded in
the years 1863–7, a total income of $980,089. —
Thus, in England and the United States, which
countries exhibit the most complete development
of the liberty of the press, as well as the most
astonishing growth of the press, the relations of
the government and the newspaper have under-
gone a gradual reversal. “No sooner had the
press been emancipated from government censor-
ship,” says Macaulay, “than the government itself
fell under the censorship of the press.” “The
people of Great Britain,” said Mr. Danvers, as
early as 1737, “are governed by a power that
never was heard of as a supreme authority in any
age or country before. It is the government of
the press.” It is true, as declared by Lecky, in
consequence of the liberty of political discussion
legalized by the act of 1792, that “Nowhere else
in free governments [the United States excepted]
do we find so large an amount of power divorced
from responsibility.” But it is not true, as was
predicted by Lord Thurlow and five peers who
joined in his protest against the Fox bill, that the
emancipation of the British press has resulted in
‘‘the confusion and destruction of the law of
322
PRESS.
England.” On the contrary, the century of a
free press in England has been conspicuous as her
most law-abiding and intelligently progressive
and reformatory century. It is not strictly true
that the power of the press, resulting from its
facilities for appealing directly to the popular
passion or impulse, is an irresponsible power.
The English common law still retains a hold upon
the periodical press sufficient to restrain its free-
dom from developing into license. Hallam de-
clares that the liberty of the English press con-
sists merely in exemption from the licenser. De
Lolme' expresses the same view, as does also
Blackstone, and it has been followed by Amer-
ican commentators of standard authority as em-
bodying correctly the idea incorporated in the
constitutional law of the United States by the
provisions of the American bills of rights. (See
Story on the Constitution, p. 1889; 2 Kent, 17 et
seq.; Rawle on the Constitution, chap. 10.) This
view of the law largely reduces the element of
irresponsibility. The accountability of every
newspaper is not only to the law but to its constit-
uency. The value of its property depends wholly
upon the favor of that constituency, and this fa-
vor must be retained by the steadfast pursuit of a
general policy which commands some measure of
popular approval. The multiplicity of newspa-
pers still further reduces the dangers dreaded by
Lord Thurlow. No one journal, nor any junta
of journals, can control or regulate public opinion
in given directions. There are journals enough,
in both England and the United States, to advo-
cate all sides of each recurring public question;
and the sum of the controversial discussion of it
is the enlightenment of public opinion to the true
policy. Thus one newspaper neutralizes another,
So far as to check an undue and irresponsible in-
fluencing of popular sentiment. It is a demon-
strated fact in the history of the journalism of
both countries, that the establishment of a news-
paper devoted to the fortunes of one political
party, in a particular town, is followed almost
immediately by the establishment of a paper of
the opposite political faith; and, as a rule, the
town that can Support One such party paper can
supply nutriment enough for the other. It is
thus the fact, due wholly to the development of
journalism, that every public question is pre-
sented to the people from both points of view.
The consequence is, that so far as the government
is controlled by the people, the only effect of the
press upon that people is to facilitate an enlight-
ened judgment, by which the element of irrespon-
sibility is reduced to the minimum. This remains
the case, even though the temper of the press, in
its discussions, may be, as it so frequently is, a bit-
terly partisan and prejudiced temper. — An even
more important consideration, in estimating the
effects of a free and untrammeled press upon the
government of a nation, is the immeasurable in-
crease of personal responsibility which its exist-
ence introduces and compels in the government
itself. In the universal publicity which the exist-
ence of a free press necessitates, in all the acts
and motives of the men intrusted with the power
of the government, lies the surest attainable guar-
antee against the abuse of that power. It is this
fact which Macaulay had in mind, when he in-
sisted that the history of the English constitution
from the seventeenth century may be compressed
into the record of the struggles of the English
press for its liberty. That history is identified at
every stage with some phase of the popular de-
mand for the enlargement of the rights of the in-
dividual citizen. The original denial of free and
unlicensed printing was based upon the necessity,
in a government by prerogative, of shutting out
all inquiry as to the character and conduct of men
in office, all investigation of errors or abuses in
the laws or government of a nation. The whole
tendency and effect of the old law of political
libel—the common law which made it indictable
to publish anything against the constitution of
the country or its established system of govern-
ment—was to deprive the people of the means of
information as to the extent of their own rights
and privileges, and the infringements made upon
them by the mistakes or the misconduct of their
rulers. All modern arbitrary governments, have
recognized the necessity of some method of inter-
communication between the government and the
people, by the publication of royal gazettes or
official organs, in which is inserted no information
save such as they deem it desirable, in their own
interests, that the people should possess. The
free press, wherever it has forced its way, has
substituted for an irresponsible government by
the prerogative, a government which must do its
deeds in the light of day, and in the face of un-
intimidated criticism, and stand or fall by the ver-
dict intelligently rendered. Except on rare occa-
sions of great popular excitement, where the press
does mischief by inflaming the passions of the
hour, it is difficult to discover consequences of its
freedom in political discussion which are not to
the general advantage of the state. Reflecting
and Organizing public opinion, adding immense-
ly to the facilities for co-operation, diffusing pop-
ular arguments with unparalleled rapidity over
immense areas, repeating them day after day until
they become familiar to all classes, watching with
a sleepless vigilance for the slightest encroach-
ments of power, and for the evidences of offi-
cial dereliction, the periodical press has strength-
ened immeasurably the spirit and resources of
liberty, and has made chimerical dangers which
once seemed imminent. This is the general ver-
dict of historians, one of the latest of whom, Mr.
Lecky, declares: “The growth of the press as
a great power in English politics is perhaps the
most momentous of all the events of the eight-
eenth century. It is not too much to say that
it has modified the political life as profoundly
as steam in the present century has altered the
economical condition of England. Of all the
instruments human wisdom has devised, a free
press is the most efficacious in putting an end
PRESS.
323
to jobs, abuses, political malversation and cor-
ruption. It is difficult to over-estimate its serv-
ices as a means for the political education of the
masses. Few persons will deny, that, in England
at least, they dutweigh the evils which the abuses
of the press have produced. Whether they do
SO everywhere is less certain, and the magnitude
of those evils is usually underrated by those who
judge exclusively from English experience.” The
United States is certainly not the country to
which this exception applies. Here, more than
in England or elsewhere, where the whole fabric
of the government is committed to the frequent
arbitrament of universal suffrage, the importance
of means for the wide and unrestricted diffusion
of political intelligence, is beyond calculation, as
has been many times demonstrated. At the same
time it is proper to admit that the evils attending
the political liberty of the press are greater here
than elsewhere, and are serious enough to justify
the profound apprehension they have excited in
many quarters. But they are evils which are be-
Coming less alarming as the press of the country
grows in resources, in independence, in character
and in influence. With this growth it becomes
less dependent upon political connections, and
therefore less virulent in its partisanship, less
under the control of designing and ambitious
men, less addicted to sensationalism, less liable to
pander to the passions of the hour and the de-
praved tastes of the ignorant. In a country where
the establishment of a newspaper is such a com-
mon and easy affair, it is to be expected that some
newspapers will always exist whose conduct is
not regulated by that scrupulous regard for pri-
vate rights and the public well-being which has
long distinguished the better class of American
journals, and is developed to an admirable degree
in the press of England. The nature of our polit-
ical institutions and the fierceness of our party
politics have always developed a greater freedom
of personal reference, accompanied by a bitter-
ness and vindictiveness of criticism, than is seen
elsewhere. Of this, however, it is safe to say,
that there is much less than existed in the early
history of American newspapers, while the vul-
gar intrusion into private affairs, merely for the
gratification of a prurient public taste for scandal,
has long been confined to publications of no rec-
ognized standing in the community. —3. It re-
mains to consider the relations of the newspaper
press to individuals. The law of newspaper libel,
as it exists in England and the United States to-
day, is an outgrowth of the governmental censor-
ship of the press, and it retains many features
which had their origin in the principle that the
press was an interloper, without any well-defined
rights, such as inhere in other lines of business or
professional occupation. It may be doubted if the
newspaper, as such, has ever influenced the cur-
rent of the common law in any particular impor-
tant to the protection of newspaper publishers.
In pointing out this fact, Judge Cooley says:
“ The railway has become the successor of the
king's highway, and the plastic rules of the com-
mon law have accommodated themselves to the
new condition of things; but the changes accom-
plished by the public press seem to have passed
unnoticed in the law, and, save only where modi-
fications have been made by statute or constitu-
tion, the publisher of the daily paper occupies
to-day the same position in the courts that the
village gossip and retailer of scandal occupied
200 years ago, with no more privilege, and no
more protection.” In the meanwhile, the news-
paper press has become one of the chief necessi-
ties of our alert and commercial civilization. It
bears its official relations to the government, na.
tional, state and local, and it comes nearer to the
popular eye and heart than any other agency for
influencing public opinion. In the main it recog-
nizes the importance of these relations which have
grown up between it and the communities it
serves, and discharges the functions assigned it,
with a dignity, Sagacity, intelligence and enter-
prise not surpassed by laborers in any other field.
But as the law of libel now stands, it is impossi-
ble to publish an allusion to an individual, in a
record of events to which privilege is not ex-
tended, the inference from which is derogatory
to that individual, which will not be construed as .
a technical libel in the courts of all the states,
thus giving the complainant a standing in court,
and placing upon the publisher the onus of prov-
ing the truth of his publication not only, but
the absence of malicious or unworthy motive in
making the publication. In criminal prosecutions
for libel, under the old law, the truth was not in
itself a sufficient excuse, the basis of the prosecu-
tion being that the libel was calculated to disturb
the public peace, a liability assumed to be all the
greater if the injurious charge was true. In civil
suits to recover damages for libel, the truth, when
pleaded and established, is now generally regard-
ed as a complete defense, where it can also be
shown that the publication was made from good
motives and for justifiable ends. On the other
hand, the burden of the decisions is, that malice
is presumptive in publications the truth of which
can not be established. The libel being false, the
malice imputable from the act of publication is a
part of the res gesta, from which the action arises.
And this holds, whether the falsehood was the
result of an inadvertence, error or misfake, or
whether it originated with a reporter, a distant
correspondent, or even when copied from another
newspaper, with due acknowledgment of the
source. These are some of the rulings which
have made the law of libel particularly severe up-
on newspaper publishers. But it is the fact that
the general disposition of juries is, in such cases,
where the malice is a legal fiction, and not an act-
ual fact, to deal leniently with the defendants.
Verdicts of six cents damages are of common Oc-
currence. The significance of these verdicts is,
that while the publisher has been guilty of a tech-
nical libel, his guilt was done in innocence, and the
plaintiff is therefore not entitled to Smart money.
324
PRESS.
The present condition of the libel law undoubtedly
encourages Suits which are in the nature of black-
mail or persecution; but the reputable press rarely
suffers from these suits beyond the annoyance and
expense of preparing for trial. Enough has been
said to show that it is strictly true that no issue of
the daily newspaper of the day can be free from
a greater or less number of libels per se, that is to
Say, actionable publications, and still publish the
current news of the day. The impossibility of
avoiding that class of publications has had a tend-
ency to make the press more careless than it
Ought to be, in the use of language and the form
Of assertion, and has made the public more lenient
in its judgment of these daily violations of pro-
priety. Some of the more noteworthy instances
of the character of publications that have been
held libelous, and of the circumstances under
which the responsibility rests upon the publisher,
may be given. It is no justification or excuse for
a libel that the publisher of a newspaper does not
personally know the person libeled; or that he
did not personally know of the libel inserted in
his paper previous to its publication. In a civil
suit for libel the truth can not be given in evi-
dence as a defense, unless under a special plea or
notice of justification, “framed with the same
degree of certainty and precision as is necessary
in an indictment for the crime imputed.” The
justification must be as broad as the charge. It
is not a justification of publishing rumors against
a plaintiff, to prove that such rumors existed.
Proving the truth of one out of several charges is
not a justification. Each charge must be sub-
stantiated precisely as made. The publisher of
an article is equally liable with the author, and
an action may lie against either or both. It is no
justification for libel, to give the authority for the
statement. Where there is an ambiguity in an
alleged libel, it is for the jury to determine
whether the words were used of plaintiff, and in
what sense they were used. A publication is not
a libel, unless it reflects upon some particular per-
son, who need not be named, but must be plainly
pointed at. Business corporations may maintain
actions for libel, the same as individuals, for
words affecting their business or property, by al-
leging special damages. An imputation contained
in the form of a question, e. g., “Is H. the man
who broke jail?” may be libelous. Criticisms
upon works of art or literary productions are al-
lowable, but they must be fair and temperate, and
the author himself must not be criticised under
cover of a criticism of his works, nor must it be
assumed that because he seeks the favor of the
public for his productions, he thereby makes his
private character and conduct public property.
This rule was established in the celebrated suits of
Cooper the novelist. Publications which reflect
upon the skill of professional men, whose busi-
ness depends upon their reputation, entitle plaint-
iff to recover without proof of special damages.
Vague charges against the character of public
officers are libelous. Where a charge of corrup-
tion is made against any officer, it can only be
sustained by proof of a specific act of corruption
on the part of plaintiff. It is no justification to
Set up that certain honest men believe the allega-
tion to be true. Such language regarding a mem-
ber of congress, as “he is a fawning sycophant,
a misrepresentative in congress, and a groveling
office-seeker,” has been held libelous. To charge
a candidate for office with seeking that office from
motives of private gain, is a libel. In a word,
while the law justifies free criticism upon public
officers and candidates for public office, the news-
paper indulging them must be as careful in the
use of words, and as specific in its proofs, in
an attempt to justify, as though the individual
libeled were a private citizen, Chief Justice Par-
Sons, of Massachusetts, stated the case in this wise:
“When a man shall consent to be a candidate for
a public office conferred by the election of the
people, he must be considered as putting his char-
acter in issue, so far as it may respect his fitness
and qualifications for the office. Publications of
the truth on this subject, with the honest inten-
tion of informing the people, are not a libel. For
it would be unreasonable to conclude that the pub-
lication of truths, which it is for the interest of the
public to know, should be an offense against their
laws. * * For the same reason the publication
of falsehood and calumny against public officers
is an offense most dangerous to the people, and
deserves punishment ; because the people may be
deceived, and reject the best citizens to their great
injury, and, it may be, to the loss of their liber-
ties.” A subsequent publication of the newspaper,
containing a recantation, if fair and explicit, is ad-
missible in mitigation of damages. Such a pub-
lication, not retracting the libelous charge, but
merely attempting to construe it in a different
sense from that fairly imputable, has been held
not admissible. The defendant can not give in
evidence, in mitigation of damages, a former re-
covery of damages against him in favor of the
same plaintiff, in another action for a libel which
formed one of a series of numbers published in
the same paper, and containing the libelous words
charged in the declaration in the second suit. In
disproving malice, though the plaintiff may give
evidence of actual malice and vindictive motives
on the part of defendant, the latter may rebut all
presumption of actual malice by showing facts
and circumstances which induced him to suppose
the charge true when he made it. No facts of
this kind can be shown, however, except such as
were actually known to the defendant when he
made the charge. Although the facts and "cir-
cumstances which tend to disprove malice, by
showing that the defendant, though mistaken,
believed the charge true when made, may be
given in evidence in mitigation of damages, never-
theless, if the facts and circumstances offered tend
to establish the truth of the charge, or go toward
making out a justification, they are inadmissible.
The defense, failing in a pleading of justification,
may rely upon the same evidence in mitigation.
PRESS.
325
All matters occurring after the publication of a
libel, though they prove its truth, are inadmissible,
These rulings do not apply to the class of pub-
lications which are described as privileged. It is
settled that a fair and impartial account of judi-
ºcial proceedings, which have not been ea parte, is
a privileged publication. But any conclusion a
newspaper may draw from the evidence in such a
proceeding is not privileged. The report must
also strictly conform to the actual proceedings in
Court, and must contain no defamatory comments,
to be privileged. It is a well-settled rule that the
publication of ea parte proceedings or preliminary
examinations, although they may be of a judicial
character, is not privileged. When they reflect in-
juriously upon individuals, the publisher derives
no benefit from the fact of their having been al-
ready delivered in court, and must found his de-
fense, not in the truth of the report, but in the truth
of the charge conveyed in the report. The rule of
privilege does not extend to any additions, editorial
comments, or headlines, published in connection
with judicial proceedings. The publication of a
speech made by a convict at the time and place of
execution, is not privileged, and if scandalous im-
putations are used, he who publishes them after-
ward must be responsible for the injury occasioned
to the person attacked. Fair reports of the pro-
ceedings of a legislative body are absolutely privi-
leged; but a privileged publication of this char-
acter, as well as of others, may be libelous, and
the difference consists in the proof necessary to
Sustain the action. In privileged publications,
good faith is presumed, and the plaintiff must not
only show the publication, but also that the de-
fendant, in making it, was governed by bad mo-
tives. Where actual malice is shown to exist, one
who has published that which is prima facie privi-
leged, has no privilege, although without this the
publication would have been privileged and even
justifiable. The definition of privileged publica-
tions is a more modern phase of the law of libel,
and has been established by statute in most of the
states. It is evident that the tendency of the
Courts is to somewhat extend the protection of
privilege to newspapers; and that the relief which
publishers seek from the onerous character of this
law, as now interpreted, is to largely come from
the enlargement of this privilege, in its bearing
upon the ordinary business of newspaper publica-
tion. In a broader sense than the law implies, the
general privilege of a newspaper has come to
cover, in public opinion at least, the right to dis-
cuss public matters, and public men, as they are
inseparably connected with these matters. News
can not be printed with impunity, even when
there is absence of malice; but the privilege of
discussion extends to matters of government in
all its grades; to the performance of official duty
by all classes of public officers and agents; to
courts, prisons, charities, public Schools, to all
means of transportation, even when in private
hands; to all schemes and enterprises of a semi-
public nature, which invite public favor and de-
pend for success upon public confidence. But
these discussions must be carried on in good faith,
and within the limits of truth and fairness. The
border line between that which is libelous and
that which is not libelous is thus a vague and un-
certain one, and the newspaper editor who would
escape the constant liability to be brought into
court in civil actions for damages, must exercise
constant vigilance, caution and discretion. In the
words of Chancellor Walworth, of New York,
“the law recognizes no peculiar rights, privileges
or claims to indulgence on the part of the con-
ductors of the public press. They have no rights
but such as are common to all. They have the
right to publish the truth, but no right to publish
falsehood to the injury of others, with impunity.”
— The actual effects of the law of libel, notwith-
standing the severity of interpretation common on
the bench, are not such as to tempt to frequent
resort to it, in the vindication of private character.
The pecuniary damage to the plaintiff's character
is the matter in issue in all civil suits, and the lat-
itude of cross-examination allowed on this account
involves an Ordeal which few men Care to en-
counter. It is thus a fact, that, while the number
and circulation of newspapers are inordinately
increasing, libel suits are less frequent than for-
merly; and the number of criminal prosecutions
for libel is likewise decreasing, for much the same
reasons. – BIBLIOGRAPHY. The bibliography of
typography is voluminous: it may be found in
John F. Marthens' Typographical Bibliography,
Pittsburgh, Pa., 1875. The bibliography of jour-
nalism is still limited, and the most important
contributions to it are, in England, Alexander
Andrews’ History of British Journalism, from the
Foundation of the Wewspaper Press to the Repeal
of the Stamp Act in 1855; F. Knight Hunt’s
Fourth Estate: Contributions toward a History of
Newspapers and the Liberty of the Press, 1850;
The Newspaper Press: Its Origin, Progress and
Present Position, by James Grant, London, 1871;
A History of Advertising, by Henry Sampson, LOn-
don, 1874; C. Mitchell & Co.'s Wewspaper Press
Directory, published annually since 1846; May's
British and Irish Press Guide, published annually
since 1873; and in the United States, A History of
Printing in America to the Year 1810, by Isaiah
Thomas, Worcester, 1810, of which a second
edition, with many notes and additions, under the
direction of Samuel F. Haven, Nathaniel Paine
and Joel Munsell, was published in 1874 by the
American Antiquarian Society, of Worcester,
Mass., in two volumes; Journalism in the United
States from 1690 to 1872, by Frederic Hudson, New
York, 1873; Specimens of Wewspaper Literature,
with Memoirs and Reminiscences, by Joseph T.
Buckingham, two vols., Boston, 1852; Personal
Memoirs and Recollections of Editorial Life, by the
same, two vols., Boston, 1852; Commemorative
Address upon William Bradford, by John William
Wallace, Albany, 1863; Andrew Bradford, by
Horatio Gates Jones, Philadelphia, 1869; News-
papers and Newspaper Writers in New England,
326
PRICES.
1787–1815, by Delano A. Goddard, Boston, 1808;
American Encyclopædia of Printing, by J. Lu-
ther Ringwalt, Philadelphia, 1871; Autobiography
of Benjamin Franklin, various editions; Life of
Horace Greeley, by James Parton, Boston, 1869;
Henry J. Raymond and New York Journalism, by
Augustus J. Maverick, Hartford, 1870; Schools of
Journalism, by Whitelaw Reid, New York, 1872;
Some Newspaper Tendencies, by the same, New
York, 1879; Typographical Miscellany, by Joel
Munsell, Albany, 1856; The Newspaper Record: A
Complete List of Newspapers in the United States
and Great Britain, with a Sketch of the Progréss
of American Journalism, by W. T. Coggswell,
Philadelphia, 1856; The American Newspaper Di-
Tectory, by George P. Rowell & Co., annual since
1868; The Newspaper Directory of the World, by
H. P. Hubbard, New Haven, 1882; also the Special
Report on the Newspaper Press in the Tenth Cen-
sus of the United States. Upon the relations of
the press to government and the law, see John
Milton's Areopagitica, a Speech for the Liberty of
Unlicensed Printing, London, 1644; Macaulay’s
History of England; May’s Constitutional History
of England, chaps. 7, 9 and 10; Hallam's Consti-
tutional History of England; De Lolme's Comstitu.
tion of England; Cooley's Constitutional Limita-
tions in the United States, in which will be found
citations of libel cases in American courts. Upon
the law of newspaper libel, see Townshend on
Libel; Shortt on Libel; Heard on Libel and Slamder;
Cooper on the Law of Libel and the Liberty of the
Press, Holt on Libel, Starkie on Libel.
S. N. D. NORTH.
PREVIOUS QUESTION. (See PARLIAMEN-
TARY L.A.W.) -
PRICES. The price of a commodity is its val-
ue in exchange, expressed in money. Courcelle-
Seneuil rightly speaks of price as being one kind
of value, as it is merely the value of any com-
modity compared with a certain quantity of a
definite commodity. In a system of barter an
article may have as many different prices as there
are commodities with which it may be compared,
as commodity is exchanged against commodity.
But when the machinery of a monetary standard
is employed, all values are measured and ex-
pressed in terms of that standard. Instead of ex-
changing a coat for a certain number of loaves of
bread, of pounds of meat, or of days’ labor, and
thus roughly arriving at the value of the coat, its
value is estimated in terms of the commodity
which is at the time and place most current
(money), and this is considered to be its value in
exchange, its price. — Adam Smith believed that
every article had two prices, a real and a nominal
price. “The real price of everything, what ev-
erything really costs to the man who wants to
acquire it, is the toil and trouble of acquiring
it. * * Labor was the first price, the original
purchase money that was paid for all things.
* * Labor alone, therefore, never varying its
own value, is alone the ultimate and real standard
by which the real value of all commodities can at
all times be estimated and compared : it is their
real price; money is their nominal price.” (Book
i., chap. v.) He further discriminates between
the natural and the market price of commodities.
“When the price of any commodity is neither
more nor less than what is sufficient to pay the rent
of the land, the wages of the labor, and the profits.
of the stock employed in the raising, preparing
and bringing to market, according to their natural
[?. e., the Ordinary or average] rates, the commod-
ity is then sold for what may be called its natural
price. * * The actual price at which any com-
modity is commonly sold is called its market price.
It may be either above, or below, or exactly the
same with, its natural price. The market price
of every particular commodity is regulated by
the proportion between the quantity which is
actually brought to the market and the demand
of those who are willing to pay the natural price
of the commodity. * * The natural price is,
as it were, the central price, to which the
prices of all commodities are continually gravitat-
ing. * * Whatever may be the obstacles which
hinder them from settling in this centre of repose
and continuance, they are constantly tending
toward it.” (Ibid., chap. vii.) — These few ex-
tracts from the “Wealth of Nations” embody the
principal doctrines regarding prices; and the
labors of economists who have come after Smith,
have only elaborated these heads. What Smith
terms the real price is nothing but the value of a
commodity; the nominal price is what is now
callcd the price, and the distinction he draws be-
tween natural and actual, is to-day expressed by
the cost of producing the article and its market
price. What he terms the nominal price, alone
concerns us in this article, but this involves a dis-
cussion of natural and market prices. – In an
article of this kind it would be impossible to give
even a superficial history of prices, as they have
from century to century been altered almost with
every advance in civilization. Such a history
would have to include a complete examination of
the growth and movements of population, the vari-
ous improvements in agricultural and manufactur-
ing processes, the gradual increase in the wealth of
the people, its division among them, the opportuni-
ties for transporting and marketing commodities,
the laws which favor or restrict the power of capi-
tal to combine and to create monopolies, the regu-
lations of trades unions which restrict the markets,
the systems of taxation employed, the state of the
currency, and a thousand other conditions, all of
which may influence the prices not only of a
single commodity, but even of all commodities.
Out of this complexity it would be almost im-
possible to frame general laws regulating the
fluctuations of prices, which may apply under all
circumstances. But in a theoretical discussion of
prices, certain principles, definite and in the main
general in their application, may be laid down.
It should, however, be understood, that, whatever
PRICES.
327
interferes with the free movement of labor or of
capital, the free exchange of money or of com-
modities exerts an influence upon prices, pre-
venting them from reaching their normal level. —
The price of a commodity is determined by the
relation between demand and supply. It must be
obvious that the price of a commodity may vary
widely, not only in different markets, but even in
the same market. In order to simplify matters,
We will suppose that there is but one market, and
in that market the competition among buyers,
and also among sellers, is so free that there can
be but one price for the same commodity at a
given time. The price is determined by the
struggle of interests between buyers and sell-
ers, and is subject to constant variation, but
always tending to such a rate as will equalize the
supply to the demand. For example, a certain
Quantity of a given commodity is in the market,
and at a given price a number of buyers sufficient
to consume all of this quantity will be found.
Should the quantity offered, or the supply, be in-
creased, without any increase in the number of
buyers, there will be a certain quantity remaining
unsold, and, in their eagerness to dispose of their
stocks, the holders will lower their prices, bidding
for custom against one another. This reduction
in price is usually (some exceptions will be noted
hereafter) followed by an increase in the number of
buyers, as the commodity is now placed within the
reach of a larger circle of customers; so that at the
reduced price the demand may be equal to the sup-
ply, and as in the former case the whole of the stock
may be disposed of. Or another contingency may
arise. There may be a greater demand for a given
commodity than the market is able to meet. In
their eagerness to satisfy their wants, the buyers
will bid against one another, and prices will rise.
But with every rise in price, there will be some
among the buyers who will be unwilling to pay
the increased price, so that prices will rise until
there is only such a number of buyers as will take
the quantity of the commodity offered. Again are
the supply and demand equalized, and this is the
general law of prices. –But this supposes a mar-
ket which has no existence in fact, an ideal mar-
ket; and a somewhat cursory examination will
show that there are an almost infinite number of
circumstances acting and reacting among them-
selves to influence prices; that the commodities
in a market do not possess an equal utility to man,
some being necessary to his existence, others be-
ing consumed at pleasure, and therefore readily
dispensed with; that a commodity may possess at
one time a very different value from that which
it has at another, and yet the conditions attending
its production may have remained unchanged.
For the present we will suppose that the value of
money remains the same (which is by no means
the case), and that any alteration in prices arises
from some change in the Commodity itself.
Again, some variations in prices may be of a per-
manent and others of a temporary character. —
Instead of saying that price depends upon the
$
$.”
equalization of demand and supply, we may say
that it is governed by the conditions of the market.
“Originally,” says Mr. Jevons, “a market was a
public place in a town where provisions and other
objects were exposed for sale; but the word has
been generalized, so as to mean any body of per-
Sons who are in intimate business relations and
carry on extensive transactions in any commodity.
A great city may contain as many markets as there
are important branches of trade, and these mar-
kets may or may not be localized. The central
point of a market is the public exchange, mart or
auction rooms, where the traders agree to meet
and transact business. In London the stock mar-
ket, the corn market, the coal market, the sugar
market, and many others, are distinctly localized;
in Manchester the cotton market, the cotton waste
market, and others. But this distinction of lo-
cality is not necessary. The traders may be spread
over a whole town, or region of country, and yet
make a market, if they are, by means of fairs,
meetings, published price lists, the postoffice, or
otherwise, in close communication with each
other.” In the United States these markets are
known as exchanges. (See ExCHANGES.) — These
markets, standing between the producer and the
consumer, and composed almost wholly of those
whose sole occupation is to trade, tend to equalize
prices. “The market price of many things is
settled from day to day by the action of dealers
rather than by that of producers. Many kinds of
raw produce can only be produced at certain
times of the year; and the immediate effect of a
rise in the price of such things is not to increase
the production of them, but simply to induce
dealers to bring forward larger quantities for sale,
and perhaps to import fresh supplies from distant
places. If we go into any corn or wool or cotton
market, we shall see dealers selling readily on one
day, and holding back on another. The amount
which each of them offers for sale at any price is
governed by his calculations of the present and
future conditions of the markets with which he is
connected. There are some offers which no dealer
would accept; some which no one would refuse.
There is some price which will be accepted by
those whose expectations of the future conditions
of the market are least sanguine; but not by others.
The higher the price that is bid, the larger will be
the sales.” The main purpose attained by these
markets is to afford, as nearly as possible, a com-
plete understanding of the relation between de-
mand and supply at any given time ; and prices
are governed accordingly. In attempting, how-
ever, to anticipate a large demand or an increased
supply, these traders are liable to error, and must
suffer. They also may combine to buy up all the
supply of a commodity, and then force prices up
far above their normal level; but these attempts
have no lasting effects, and although an abuse,
are not sufficient to condemn these exchanges. –
These traders, however, are merely middlemen,
and act upon prices only; they can not increase
directly the supply, nor govern the demand. They
328
PRICES.
are like a paper machine, which takes in at One
end the pulp, and turns out at the other the paper.
The machine can not increase the supply of pulp,
nor can it make a greater amount of paper from
the pulp; it can only work upon what is given to
it. So that while exchanges exert an important
influence upon prices, their action is rather de-
termined by a set of outside conditions, which
might exist were there no such localized markets.
— As extreme examples may be mentioned the
sudden fluctuations in prices caused by a demand
that could not be foreseen. The price of all black
cloths may in a public mourning reach a sum far
above what they usually bring, and yet it would
not increase production, as the demand would be
merely of a temporary character, and not likely
to happen soon again. During an eclipse bits of
colored glass may be in demand and command
high prices. But that is an accidental circum-
stance. On the other hand, by a change in fashion
the demand for a certain class of goods may al-
most entirely cease, and prices fall to a ruinous
rate. Such an event has recently happened to
Irish poplin. — While ordinary variations in prices
may be explained by the altered relations of Sup-
ply and demand, yet in the long run the price of
a commodity is determined by its cost of produc-
tion. Below this cost the price may fall, but it at
once sets in motion a series of events which tend
to raise it. As there would be an excess of Sup-
ply in such a case, when the price fell the pro-
ducers would take steps to curtail their production,
as they could not afford to produce at a loss for
any length of time, until this excess had been dis-
posed of, and the competition of buyers had again
sent the price up sufficiently high to cover the cost
of production. An artificial scarcity is, as it were,
made to clear the market. Nor is the result any
different when there is a deficiency in the supply.
The increased prices offer high profits to pro-
ducers, who increase as far as possible their own
output, and capitalists are tempted to invest their
funds in the manufacturer by the hope of reaping
the high profit, so that in time the Supply is again
equal to the demand, and the price has fallen to
its former rate. — In this discussion it has thus far
been supposed that the Supply is capable of vary-
ing indefinitely with the demand, which is not
the case in fact. A new limitation must now be
made. Commodities may roughly be classed, ac-
cording to the manner of production, into three
groups. The first will include all such as are
strictly limited in quantity. In the second will be
found those that are capable of being increased in
number or in quantity, but at a continually in-
creasing cost. The third group will include those
that may be indefinitely produced at the same
cost. Each of these classes or groups will require
some notice. — 1. Where the supply of a com-
modity is strictly limited, and is not capable of
being increased under any circumstances, it may
be said that its value and price are determined by
the demand. For example, the prices obtained
for rare coins and curiosities, or the works of a
deceased artist, may be enormous, but they are
determined by what Adam Smith calls the hig-
gling of the market, and are as legitimate as is the
price paid for a bushel of wheat. That is to say,
by the competition of the buyers they have been
raised to such a point that the demand is limited
to the supply. Mr. Fawcett, in such cases, divides
the value of the article into two elements, absolute
utility and difficulty of attainment, and both of
these elements must be present whenever an article
has an exchange value. “For an article, however
difficult to obtain, can have no value unless it is
capable either of supplying some want, or grati-
fying some desire; on the other hand, no article
can possess exchange value, if it can be obtained
without difficulty, although the article may be of
prime necessity. * * Utility is, in fact, almost
invariably only partially operative ; this is the
general rule, for the case may be regarded as a
very rare exception when utility, as well as diffi-
culty of attainment, both exert their full influence
upon the price of an article. When such a case
does occur, the purchaser of a commodity is guided
in the price which he offers for it, solely and en-
tirely by the consideration of the use he expects
to derive from the article. This can only happen
when the supply of a commodity is absolutely
limited.” (Book iii., chap. ii.) The same princi-
ple has been expressed by Marshall (“Economics
of Industry”) in what he calls the “law of de-
mand ”: “The price of a commodity measures
its final utility to each purchaser; that is, the value
in use to him of that portion of it which is only
just worth his while to buy.” —2. In commodi-
ties of the second class an increased demand can
only be supplied at an increased cost. As repre-
sentative of this group may be instanced agricult-
ural products. In an old country where the land
is limited in quantity, a new demand for wheat
(as an example) can be met only by a resort to un-
cultivated lands, or by increasing the yield of
those already under cultivation. It must be obvi-
ous, that at a given time all lands that are fitted to
grow wheat and return the average profit to the
cultivator, will be turned to that use. So that in
resorting to new land, it must bring under culti-
vation land of an inferior quality, or situated
remote from the markets, that will yield a less
average product to the tiller. The cost of pro-
ducing the wheat that is grown on these poor
lands will determine the price of all wheat. That
is to say, while wheat may have as many differ-
ent costs of production as there are qualities of
land, its price is determined by the cost of pro-
ducing it under the least advantageous circum-
stances. To secure the fertility of a given piece
of land already under cultivation, additional labor
and capital must be expended upon it. But after
a certain period the returns obtained are not com-
mensurate with the additional expense incurred;
after, a certain amount of capital has been ap-
plied to land every increase in produce is secured
by a more than proportionate increase of capital.
Such an investment of capital must follow, just
PRICES.
329
as a resort to an inferior quality of lands precedes
and enforces a rise in the price of the product.
The general tendency, therefore, of the prices of
agricultural produce, is in the long run to in-
crease. This same principle applies also to mining
operations, as mineral deposits are limited. Of
course the opening up of vast extents of unoccu-
pied and fertile soil, or the discovery of new and
productive mines, may not only counteract this
tendency of prices to rise, but may even produce
a fall, by offering very much greater advantages
than existed before. The application of improved
processes to agriculture, both such as enable the
land to yield a greater absolute produce, with-
out an equivalent increase of labor, and Such as
diminish the amount of labor and expense of ob-
taining a given produce, may prevent a rise in the
price of the produce. Mining operations are more
susceptible of mechanical improvement than agri-
cultural, and therefore the antagonizing agency
against a permanent rise in the prices of mineral
products is more active than in agriculture. The
law of diminishing returns, that natural agents
that are limited in quantity are also limited in
their productive power, but that long before that
power is stretched to the utmost they yield to
any additional demands on progressively harder
terms, holds true, as it is only suspended, not an-
nulled, by improvements in the arts of produc-
tion. (Mill.)— Agriculture has been able to profit
least by the important advances made in recent
times, and consequently there are not such active
forces to counteract the tendency for the prices of
agricultural products to increase, as there exist
in purely industrial operations. The principle of
a division of employments can be applied only to
a limited extent in the cultivation of land, and the
introduction of machinery is not followed by that
wonderful increase which accompanies its use in
manufactures. The land possesses a certain fer-
tility, which becomes exhausted as successive
crops are taken from it, unless it is renewed. At
the beginning of the eighteenth century it was a
common usage to grow successive crops of white
corn until the land was utterly exhausted, when
it was left to recruit itself by resting in a state of
nature, while other portions were undergoing the
same process. The practice of fallowing annually
a portion of the arable land, and of interposing a
crop of peas between cereal crops, was even then
becoming common, and at a later period green
crops, such as turnips, clover and rye grass, were
alternated with grain crops. This rotation of
crops increased the capacity of the soil, and the
improvements in the breeding of live stock, the
preparation of artificial manures, and the appli-
cation of better methods to the cultivation of the
land, were reflected in the increased productive-
mess of the soil. These steps have required a
great outlay of capital, and if the laws prohibit-
ing or restricting the importation of agricultural
produce had not been repealed, England could not
have obtained sufficient food for her population
from her own soil, and what wheat she did grow
would have sold at famine prices. In spite of
these many advances in practical agriculture, the
average yield per acre in England has steadily
diminished. While it was 29.3 bushels during
the decade 1849–58, in the following ten years
it was 29.1 bushels, between 1869–78 only 25.6
bushels, and in 1879 it had fallen to but 16 bush-
els. Mr. Laird then wrote that, “In the United
Ringdom we appear to have approached a point
in agricultural production beyond which capital
can be otherwise more profitably laid out than in
further attempting to force our poorer classes of
soils.” It had become cheaper to take the surplus
production of Russia, India and the United States,
and the tendency of the price of wheat to rise
was thus checked. — It is said that rent does not
enter into the expenses of production, because
the price of a commodity is regulated by the ex-
penses of producing that portion which is raised
under the most unfavorable existing circum-
stances. For example, the price of wheat is gov-
erned by the cost of growing a bushel upon the
poorest quality of land cultivated, so poor that it
can not and does not pay rent. So that if rent,
which is but the surplus produced by the better
lands over this margin of cultivation, as fixed by
the poorest lands, were abolished, the price of
grain would remain unchanged. This was Ricar-
do’s theory, and, if properly understood, is true.
That is to say, rent does not make price, but
price, rent. If a demand for grain arises, and
the increased price will enable lands hitherto not
capable of growing wheat and returning the ex-
penses of production to be cultivated, the rent of
all other more productive lands will rise. The
increased price of grain has extended the margin
of cultivation, and rents have been increased.
The same principle applies also to manufactures.
But in estimating the cost of producing or manu-
facturing, or even selling, any product, rent must
be included as a factor. When water power was
chiefly used in manufactures, the sites where water
power was to be obtained, were sought and com-
manded high rents. The most available business
sites in a city are soon occupied, and may com-
mand almost fabulous prices. The farmer who
pays rent for a certain piece of soil can not com-
pete successfully with another who owns, or hires
at a lower rent, land of a like degree of fertility;
and for this reason, the wheat growers of Eng-
land, who have to pay high rents for their land,
can not contend against wheat grown in Amer-
ica by farmers who obtain rich lands for a mere
trifle. — But as land is limited in quantity, while
population and the demand for land are contin-
ually increasing, the price of land and also the
rent of land rise. An examination into the price
of land in France showed that the average price
per hectare had been quadrupled since 1789, tripled
since 1815, and doubled since the first years of
the rule of Louis Philippe. As regards rents, little
that is definite can be said. In France it is esti-
mated that in rural districts the rents of agricult-
ural lands are about 3 per cent. Of their value,
330
PRICES.
being governed almost entirely by the returns the
land will make to the tenants. In large towns
and cities they may be as high as 20 per cent. of
the value of the land, as the most available busi-
ness sites may command that rent, and yet allow
the full rate of profit to the tenant. Some agri-
cultural lands, such as are fitted to produce cer-
tain vines giving a peculiar wine, may also com-
mand what appear to be exorbitant rents. It may
even happen that the price of land and of rents
diminish, as, for example, in small villages which
are drained of their population by a neighboring
large city. Such cases are, however, not so fre-
quent as to affect the general tendency of prices
with respect to land. — Of commodities in the
third group, that is, such as may be increased to
an almost unlimited extent without an increase in
their cost, manufactures may be said to form a
large part. As most manufactures, however, con-
sume articles that are the produce of the soil, it
might be supposed that they would follow the
laws governing the value of those articles. This
is in a measure true, but only to a limited extent.
The value of an agricultural or mineral product
lies almost wholly in the value of the raw material,
the labor expended being merely one of appro-
priation. Any increase in the difficulty of obtain-
ing the raw material is added, to its full extent,
to its cost. It is not so with a manufacture. Here
there are three elements, or factors, which enter
into the price of the finished product: 1, the cost
of the raw material; 2, the plant necessary to
carry on the process of manufacture; and 3, the
labor employed. Of these three factors the cost
of the raw material plays the least important part,
and a fluctuation in its price must be a great one
to be felt in the product. For example, a rise of
20 per cent. in the price of flax would not cause
the price of linen cloth to rise as much as 5 per
cent. An increased demand for a manufacture,
as a rule, affects only the price of the raw ma-
terial. There may be, and generally is, an in-
crease in the price of the finished product when
the demand is greater than the supply. But this
increase is only temporary, and is corrected by
the increased production which follows the exten-
sion of works by the introduction of new capital.
There need not necessarily, therefore, result any
permanent increase in the cost of production,
and consequently in price, save as respects that
which follows the rise in price of the raw ma-
terial used in the manufacture, and this is gen-
erally so small as to be inappreciable. In this
group of commodities the price more nearly ap-
proximates to the actual cost of production than
in the first and second groups, as the competi-
tion among manufacturers is more active. — It
may even happen that in the face of a greatly
increased demand the prices of manufactured
products may fall. In our former position we
assumed that no increase in the cost of the nec-
essary plant or of the labor employed was oc-
casioned by such an alteration in the demand.
The cost of production may be lessened. This
follows from the increased productiveness that.
may be caused by conducting manufacturing op-
erations on a large scale, as it allows a more
complete division of employments, thereby caus-
ing a greater degree of skill in the labor, a sav-
ing in the material, and an economy in many
of the processes and methods. As the extent to
which this saving process may be carried depends.
upon the extent of the market, and as the market.
is, in the case of commodities that are necessary
or even of voluntary consumption, enlarged by
a reduction in the price, which brings them with-
in the reach of a wider circle of buyers, there
is practically no limit to which the price may
not attain. Through improvements in machinery
and processes of manufacture the price of the
product may fall as the enlarging of the market.
offers new opportunities for applying such, im-
provements. Should, however, a marked rise in
wages occur, the cost of production is increased
and the price of the manufacture generally fol-
lows, but this is neither a usual nor a lasting
result. — General prices have their periods of ebb.
and flow, rising at One time and falling at another,
according to the general conditions of trade and
industry. These general movements have a cer-
tain periodicity, rising until checked by a financial
or commercial crisis, and then falling until again
raised by a new demand. Thus, the years 1837,
1847, 1857, 1866 and 1873 were marked by ex-
tremely high prices, but they were succeeded by
years of falling prices. “When trade is good, a
state of things is created in which a downward
movement of prices is sooner or later inevitable.
A great stimulus has been given to production
in certain favorite industries; capital has been
employed in creating, new establishments, or in
extending fixed works and plant; laborers have
flocked into the trade, attracted by high wages;
at a point the demand is found to be below the
supply, the prices of the manufactured article
become unremunerative, and in time the raw
material and labor employed in the trade are at a
discount. The fall is precipitated, moreover, by
the inability of speculative holders of stocks to
hold on in the face of falling markets. At each
new"stage of the decline new sales become neces-
tary, till there is apparently no limit to the fall,
just as before there seemed to be no limit to the
rise. By sympathy almost all markets come to
be affected, the low prices in one market attract-
ing capital to it, and so weakening other mar-
kets, while speculators who are hit in One depart-
ment of trade seek to cover their losses by Sales
of some commodity or stock which has not depre-
ciated.” (Giffen.) — This course of events may
be illustrated by an example. The year 1873
marked the culmination of an era of great specu-
lation and inflated prices. During the follow-
ing six years, or until 1879, the depression of
trade and industry became more and more ag-
gravated, and was accompanied by a gradual
fall in prices. This will be shown by the follow-
ing table:
PRICES.
331

ARTICLES. Jan., 1878. Jan., 1879. ºš.
e tº 4. S. d. £ S. d.
Pig iron---------- per ton 6 7 0 2 3 0 66
Coals ------------ { % 1 10 0 0 19 0 37
Copper ---------- { % 91 0 0 57 0 0 37
Wheat ----------- per q1. 2 15 11 1 19 7 29
Flour ----------- per Sack 2 7 6 1 17 0 22
Beef, prime----- per 8 lbs. 0 5 3 0 4 9 10
Cotton ------------ per lb 0 0 10 0 0 5; 46
Wool ----------- per pack || 23 0 0 13 0 0 43
Sugar ----------- per cwt 1 ſ 6 0 16 () 26
Coffee ----------- { % 4 0 0 3 5 0 19
Saltpetre -------- * { 1 9 0 0 19 0 34
It will be noted that the fall in the price of food
products was relatively less than of manufactures
and raw materials of manufactures. – As 1873
the year of greatest depression. In that year, how-
ever, a reaction occurred, and was marked in this
country by a great revival in the construction of
railroads, which resulted in a great increase in the
demand for iron and steel. So great was the de-
mand that production could not for some time
meet it, ared the course of prices in the iron trade
during the last four years (1879–83) will afford a
very good example of the manner in which the
supply and demand are equalized, in accordance
with the law we have already described. — At the
beginning of 1879, pig iron was selling at about
$18 per ton. The sudden demand was such that
neither domestic production nor importations of
foreign iron were able to satisfy it, and in Febru-
ary, 1880, the price had risen to $41 per ton. This
exceptional condition could not, however, contin-
ue for any length of time, as the promise of rich
profits induced the blowing in of all furnaces that
had remained idle during the long period of de-
pression, and gave a stimulus to investments in
new blast furnaces. In April, 1879, but 241 fur-
naces were in blast; one year later the number had
increased to 431; at the same time in 1881, to 453,
and in 1882, to 457. Meanwhile, however, the
supply was being adjusted to the demand. Dur-
ing the years 1880–82 there were laid 27,875 miles
of new lines, but the mileage laid down was al-
ready beginning to be less, and new enterprises
were slowly taken up by capitalists. This de-
crease in the construction of railroads was reflected
in the demand for iron and steel. While the price
of pig iron was, in February, 1880, $41 per ton,
the average price for the year was $28.50; for
1881, $25.12, and for 1882, $25,75; showing that
the vastly increased production was bringing prices
to a normal condition. During the first six months
of 1883 the high rate of production was main-
tained, but in the face of a continually diminish-
ing demand, so that prices fell to $20 per ton, and
less. The producers then commenced to restrict
their output, and furnaces were closed, so that
while in April, 1882, there were 457 furnaces in
blast, in April, 1883, there were only 375, and
many others were on the point of shutting down.
In time conditions will again be equalized and pro-
duction resumed. — The fluctuation in prices must
vary widely according as they apply to commodi-
#,
was the period of maximum inflation, so 1879 was"
ties that are necessary to support life, or to those
which may be dispensed with. For example, food
is essential to existence, and any deficiency will
produce an alteration in price out of all propor-
tion to the amount of the deficiency. Men must
have food, and a certain quantity of it; it has been
noted that the consumption of food of men in easy
circumstances does not differ widely in times of
abundance and of dearth. If the price of food
rises, they curtail their expenditures in other direc-
tions, so that a scarcity of food is very apt to be ac-
companied by a general prostration of industry,
and the Only trade that thrives is that which deals
in food products. The fluctuations that occur in
the price of food have a very wide range, and are
great even when there is no famine or real dearth.
At the conclusion of the seventeenth century,
Gregory King estimated that a deficiency in the
harvest would raise the price of corn in the fol-
lowing proportions: A deficit of one-tenth would
raise the price above the common rate three-
tenths; a deficit of two-tenths would raise it
eight-tenths; of three-tenths, one and six-tenths;
of four-tenths, two and eight-tenths; and of five-
tenths, four and five-tenths. (Quoted in Dave-
nant's Works, vol. ii., p. 224.) In a famine there
is no limit to prices of food save the ability of the
consumers to buy. Whatever affects the supply
of grain (taking this as a representative article of
general and necessary consumption) will be re-
flected in prices, and prices will vary in a ratio
very different from the variation in quantity.
Mr. Tooke observes that the price of corn in Eng-
land has repeatedly risen from 100 to 200 per
cent. and upward, when the utmost computed
deficiency of the crops has not been more than
between one-sixth and one-third of an average.
The cause of this is not difficult to determine.
At the time he wrote, there were laws which pro-
hibited, except under certain conditions, the im-
portation of corn into England, and the home
crop was chiefly depended upon. Agriculture is,
however, most uncertain, and until the harvest is
actually secured, it is as likely to be deficient or
to fail utterly through meteorological influences
which it is beyond the power of man to control.
A deficiency, whether it really exists or is only
apprehended, becomes under such circumstances
a serious matter, and, being exaggerated, forces
the price beyond what is justified by the facts.
“The more the mere forces of nature preponder-
ate in production, the less can the supply be in-
creased or decreased at pleasure; the more fre-
quently, as a consequence, do we find monopoly
prices. Thus, the production of wheat is invari-
ably connected with the order of the seasons.
Between seed-time and harvest, there are a num-
ber of months which neither capital nor skill can
shorten to any extent. The cultivation of land,
to be very much greater and more lasting, Sup-
poses so many conditions precedent, increase of
live stock, buildings, etc., that it can be attained
only after a series of years. Hence it happens
that wheat, much more than manufactured prod-
332
PRICES.
ucts, is subject to oppressively high and to op-
pressively low prices, during a long period of
time. No matter what the influence of the
forces operating in the opposite direction may
be, the price of wheat depends most largely on
the result of the last crop.” (Roscher, “Polit-
ical Economy,” cxii.) These violent fluctuations
are, however, corrected in proportion to the ex-
tension of the market. Wheat varies in price
much less now when there are three great wheat
exporting countries, Russia, India and the United
States, than it did when there was but one. — As
regards manufactures, while, as we have already
seen, there may occur violent fluctuations in price
by reason of a sudden demand, yet they are soon
corrected by an increased supply, as capital and
labor may be had to almost any extent. — It is
hardly necessary to more than note the great in-
fluence which the cost of transportation has on
prices, and how great changes have been pro-
duced by every improvement in the means of
carrying commodities from the place of produc-
tion to the place of consumption. — Among the
many circumstances that may artificially affect
prices may be mentioned the attempt to determine
them by law. “Fixed prices by governmental
authority were soonest attempted after bad har-
vests.” Nor was the attempt confined to articles
of necessity, for the rate of wages has also been
subject to such measures. As prices are governed
by a number of conditions over which the law
can have no control, such ill-considered efforts
are worse than useless, because, by interfering
with natural conditions, they may work great
mischief. A curious survival of these laws, which
are to be met with in the history of all nations,
lies in the usury laws, which attempt to fix a limit
to the rate of interest. — There are, however,
other circumstances that may artificially raise
prices. For example, there may not exist free
competition among producers, but one or a limited
number may alone have the power of producing
or of selling the commodity. A man may pos-
sess, say, all the available mines of a certain metal,
and this will enable him to fix his own price; a
patent may confer the same power upon an in-
ventor or one who disposes of the patented article.
In such cases the price depends upon the ability
of the purchaser, and also upon the position of
the vender. If he holds a complete monopoly,
he may almost fix his own price; but if at a cer-
tain limit, competition may be called out, he must
make his price below this limit if he intends to
reap the full profit. In either case the price is a
monopoly price. Caprice or fashion may for a
time succeed in forcing prices far above their
normal level.
mously increased during the time when fashion
dictated the wearing of enormous masses of hair
grown by others than the wearer. In time of war
the supply of some commodity may be partially
or wholly shut off, and almost fabulous prices
may be the result. The price of cotton was quad-
rupled during the rebellion, on account of the
The price of false hair was enor-
blockading of the principal southern ports, and
for a time a veritable famine in cotton existed.
Or the ravages of disease or of insects may pro-
duce a Scarcity. The price of wine in France at-
tained the highest limit when the oidium ravaged
the vines. – It has been assumed that the value
of gold and silver, the currency in which prices
are expressed, remains unaltered. We must now
consider the effects of changes in the value or
purchasing power of the circulating medium.
The value of the precious metals is governed by
the same laws which regulate the value of other
Commodities, and in the long run depends upon
the cost of production. Being, moreover, prod-
ucts of the earth, their supply is in any one dis-
trict limited, and an increased quantity can be
Secured only with a greater expenditure of labor
and capital, arid consequently at a greater cost.
They belong, therefore, in the second group of
commodities. This tendency, however, of the
value of gold and silver from time to time to in-
crease, has been counteracted by the discovery of
new and productive mines, and in sonſe cases the
supply has been so much increased that a marked
fall in prices has resulted. The value of money
is determined by comparing it with other commod-
ities. If at one period a yard of cotton gloth is
worth fifty cents, and at another only twenty-
five cents, two things may have happened. Either
the cost of producing the cloth may have been de-
creased to that extent, or the purchasing power of
money has been increased. In the first case, the
value of the cloth, as compared with other com-
modities and with gold, will have fallen; and in
the second, the value of the cloth, as compared
with other commodities, may have remained un-
changed, and it has changed only as regards gold.
In this latter case the value of gold will have been
altered, and as it measures the value of all other
commodities, their prices will also be changed.
A general rise or a general fall in prices is due
to a change in the value of money. Hence the
value of money varies inversely with general
prices, rising as they fall, and falling as they rise.
— The value of money varies with the supply,
like the value of any other commodity. If the
exchanges of a community remain unchanged
in quantity, by doubling the amount of money
in circulation, general prices would also be doub-
led; by halving it, prices would fall one-half.
“The value of money, other things being the same,
varies inversely as its quantity; every increase of
quantity lowering the value, and every diminu-
tion raising it, in a ratio exactly equivalent.”
(Mill.) In order that this law may be true, we
must suppose that gold and silver alone constitute
the currency, and that credit in no form is used.
Credit has, without regard to the form it may
take, exactly the same purchasing power with
money; and an exercise of the credit power has
the same effect upon prices as would an equal
amount of money, because prices depend upon
purchases. “By far the most powerful influence
exerted by credit on prices is caused by increasing
PRICES.
333
the purchāsing power of the country. If it were
not for credit, the demand for commodities would
frequently be much less than it is. In fact, when
credit is freely given, the demand for a commod-
ity may increase without any assignable limits;
when the demand is so stimulated, prices may
temporarily rise in a very striking manner. We
lay particular stress upon the word “temporarily,’
because, as frequently stated, the price of all
Commodities, except those whose supply is abso-
lutely limited, must always in the long run be
regulated by their cost of production. But al-
though cost of production determines a point to-
Ward which the prices of commodities must ulti-
mately have a tendency to approach, yet the prices
of commodities may temporarily either very much
fall short of their cost of production, or be greatly
in excess of it. These variations in price are due
to sudden fluctuations in the demand and supply
of any particular commodity; nothing exerts so
powerful an influence in producing these fluctua-
tions as an extended system of credit. If no credit
were given, and if everything were consequently
paid for by money directly It was purchased,
there would be little speculation ; commodities
would generally be bought as they were wanted;
everything connected with trade would be regular
and uniform, and there would be no great varia-
tions in the demand.” (Fawcett.) “Money and
credit,” says Mill, “are exactly on a par, in their
effect on prices.” — Any event which largely in-
creases the amount of money in circulation will
alter its value, and cause prices to vary. In an-
cient times, when large stocks of gold and silver
were hoarded by the state, or in the temples, or by
private individuals, the opening of such reservoirs
produced great revolutions in prices, but the effects
were almost wholly local. In modern times such
revolutions have been caused by the discovery and
working of large deposits of gold or silver. Thus,
about the beginning of the sixteenth century the
mines of Peru, and later on, of Mexico, began
to pour their products into the lap of Europe.
Humboldt estimates that the annual export of
gold and silver from America to Europe, between
1492 and 1500, amounted to 250,000 piastres; be-
tween 1500 and 1545 to 3,000,000; and from that
time to 1600, to 11,000,000. According to the same
authority, Europe, before the time of Columbus,
had a circulation of 170,000,000 piastres; about
1600, of 600,000,000. A rapid depreciation in the
value of money occurred in this period. The
prices of rye in Saxony from 1525 to 1ā0 WGI’G
twice as high as from 1475 to 1500. According
to Garnier, the French prices of wheat, from
1450 to 1500, were on an average 4.08 francs of
the present price per Setier: from 1501 to 1520, 5
francs; from 1522 to 1540, 11.26 francs; from 1541
to 1560, 11.69 francs; from 1561 to 1580, 21.33
francs; and from 1581 to 1600, 32.51 francs. In
England the price of wheat from 1560 to 1600
was 2.64 times as high as from 1450 to 1500. Ac-
cording to the French writer Mantellier, the pur-
Chasing power of silver, as compared with the
average value of twenty-seven commodities, as-
suming it to have been 1.0 from 1750 to 1850, was
2.9 from 1350 to 1450; 2.8 from 1450 to 1550; and
1.5 from 1550 to 1650. Mr. Tooke says (“History
of Prices,” vol. vi., p. 232), that “no rise in prices
can be discovered until 1570, fifty years after the
entry of the Spaniards into Mexico, and almost
thirty years after the discovery of the Potosi
silver mine in Mexico.” But the figures we have
just quoted show that the purchasing power of
silver had begun to decline even before the supply
from America could have produced any effect.
Roscher attributes the fall in the value of money
to the fact that at this period in many nations
there was a “transition from a sluggish circula-
tion of money, made still more sluggish by the
custom which everywhere prevailed of hoarding
treasure, to a rapid circulation, which was made
still more rapid by the use of all kinds of substi.
tutes for money. Adam Smith believed that till
1570 the value of silver did not fall, but an his-
torical table of English coins would show that a
great change occurred between 1546 and 1551; for
while the ratio of gold to silver in the former year
was as 1 to 5, in the latter it was 1 to 11, and in
1626 had become 1 to 13.3. It is known that
from 1570 to 1640 the purchasing power of silver
fell rapidly, and the ultimate range of prices was
reached in 1640. Alison (“History of Europe”)
sees important consequences attending the in-
creased supply of money. “The annual supply
of the precious metal for the use of the globe
was tripled; before a century had expired, the
pricos of overy species of produce were quadrupled.
The weight of debt and taxes insensibly wore off
under the influence of that prodigious increase;
in the renovation of industry, the relations of
society were changed; the weight of feudalism
cast off; the rights of man established. Among
the many concurring causes which conspired to
bring about this mighty consummation, the most
important though hitherto the least observed, was
the discovery of Mexico and Peru.” And Mr.
Cairnes declared that the new supplies of gold
and silver “supplied and rendered possible the
remarkable expansion of oriental trade, which
forms the most striking commercial fact of the
age that followed.” (“Essays in Political Econ-
omy,” p. 110.) On the other hand, it was fol-
lowed by much misery and hardship. “So rapid
was the fall, so great the disturbance of trade and
industry that followed, so wholesale the reduction
in the value of fixed incomes and permanent
charges, that widespread distress and much per-
manent pauperism resulted. * * Mr. Jacob
attributes to the overwhelming changes in the pur-
chase power of money, at this period, that sudden
increase of pauperism which gave occasion for the
establishment of the English poor laws, and those
financial embarrassments of Charles I. which led
to the great rebellion. Instead of a slow and
gradual diminution of the weight of indebtedness,
debts were, in many cases, almost confiscated by
the rapid depreciation of the money in which they
334
PRICES.
were to be paid. The creditor class was very
generally impoverished, if not hopelessly ruined.”
(Walker, “Money,” p.
value of money appears to have been quite sta-
tionary, During the seventeenth century the
annual export of gold and silver from America
to Europe was, according to Humboldt, about
16,000,000 piastres; during the first half of the
eighteenth century it was 22,500,000, and during
the second half, 35,300,000. He estimated that in
1700 Europe had a circulation of 1,400,000,000 pi-
astres; and in 1809, 1,824,000,000. But in spite of
these increased supplies the variations of price are
rather to be attributed to alterations in the com-
modities themselves, and not to changes in the
value of money. Mr. Jevons believed that the
value of gold did undergo extensive variations dur-
ing the latter part of this period. “Between 1789
and 1809 it fell in the ratio of 100 to 54, or by 46
per cent. From 1809 to 1849 it rose again in the
ratio of 100 to 245, or by 145 per cent.” (“Jour-
nal Statistical Society,” June, 1865.) And there
are other facts which would prove that there
was an extensive disturbance of values at that
time. ROScher attributes the fall in value to the
restrictions imposed by the war upon the free
circulation of commodities, and the rise which
occurred 1818–48 to the removal of these restric-
tions. – In 1848 large deposits of gold were dis-
covered in California, and three years later in
Australia. The Mexican and Peruvian deposits
were chiefly of silver, but the produce of these
new mines was largely gold. . At about the same
time the Russian gold mines became very produc-
tive. At once a panic arose in Europe over the
results that must flow from such a vast increase
in the supply. M. Chevalier in France recom-
mended the adoption of a single standard of silver
in that country, and his work was translated by
Mr. Cobden in England. But the best examina-
tion into the effects of the new discoveries is to
be found in . Mr. Cairnes’ “Essays on Political
Economy,” to which we must refer our readers.
Mr. Rogers says that it is calculated that, between
the years 1848–68, gold valued at £657,000,000,
and silver at £345,000,000, were added to the
stock of the precious metals of the world. A
goodly share of the silver has been absorbed by
India and China, the “London Economist' es-
timating that, between 1858 and 1872, upward
of £90,000,000 was sent to those countries. As
to the real effect of these discoveries on general
prices little is known. Mr. Jevons believes that
the value of gold fell at least 20 per cent. between
1849 and 1874. As compared with silver, its value
did not materially alter between 1850 and 1866.
The discovery of large deposits of silver in the
United States caused the price of silver to fall,
and the fall was accelerated by its demonetization
in Germany and the Scandinavian countries in
1872–3. So that, while the ratio of gold to silver
was, in 1867, 1 to 15.57, in 1878 it had become 1 to
18. Such was the expansion of trade and the in-
crease in the uses for money during the period
136.) — From 1640 the
the standard of value.
bushel.
that has elapsed since the Californian and Aus-
tralian mines were opened, that it may be doubted
if there has been so great a variation in prices as
Mr. Jevons imagines. And as a proof of this, it
may be noted that during the last few years a
number of economists have raised a cry of a scar-
city of gold, that its value is appreciating, and
prices of commodities are tending downward.
(See Giffen, “Essays in Finance,” and the files of
the “London Economist” during the last four
years.) An exceedingly valuable essay upon the
“Distribution and Value of the Precious Metals
in the Sixteenth and Nineteenth Centuries,” by
Prof. T. E. Cliffe Leslie, will be found in “Mac-
millan's Magazine,” August, 1864. — Prices under
an inconvertible paper currency, whose value is
always purely arbitrary, may reach almost any
limit.— Of prices in the United States, little study
has ever been made. In colonial times prices
fluctuated widely, and indeed until long after the
revolution. This was due, not so much to the
scarcity of money, as to the almost total absence
of a market, which is at Once an incentive to pro-
duction and a regulator of price. The scarcity of
money led to the regulation of prices of labor by
law, and also to a resort to wanpumpeag, or shell
money, and a barter currency. Silver prices fell
enormously, and there were many complaints.
The crops were limited and uncertain, and until
1641 there was little or no trading. In that year
New England commenced to build up her carry-
ing trade, and in 1652 was enabled to establish a
mint, the pine tree shilling then coined becoming
The barter currency was
still maintained, as was also the wanpum, so that
silver was exported. In time, paper issues were
resorted to, at first under such limitations as to
prevent depreciation, but later excessive issues
were made. Every change affected prices in the
same way that like restrictions affect them to-day.
Numberless laws were passed with the intention
of preserving a balance between the prices of la-
bor and merchandise and the currency, but to no
purpose. “Whereas there hath bene divers com-
plaints made concerning oppression in wages in
prizes of commodyties in Smith's worke, in exces-
sive prizes for the worke of druaghts and teames
and the like, to the great dishonor of God, the
scandell of the Gospel, and the griefe of divers of
God’s people both heare in this land and in the
land of our nativity,” etc. (Mass., 1638.)— The
elder Winthrop wrote about 1640, that “the scar-
city ofºmoney made a great change in all Com-
merce. Merchants would sell no ware, but for
money. Men could not pay their debts, though
they had enough. Prices of land and cattle fell
soon to one-half and less, yea, to a third, and after
to one-fourth part.” In that year the price of In-
dian corn was fixed by law at four shillings, of
summer wheat at six shillings, of rye and barley
at five shillings, and of peas at six shillings a
The interest of money was fixed at 8 per
cent. The prices of corn, cattle and other prod-
uce were continually falling, and the Wages of
PRICES.
335
labor was made to follow. In 1646 the law de-
termined the rate at which cattle should be taken
in payment of public dues : cows of four years
old and upward, £5; heifers and steers, between
two and three years old, 50s., and between one
and two years, 30s.; oxen of four years and up-
ward, £6; horses and mares of four years and up-
ward, £7, etc., etc., and such estimations were
frequently made. In 1693 the rate of interest
was reduced to 6 per cent. Prices were in great
confusion by reason of the many currencies then
used. Madam Knight gives this sprightly account
of a bargain : “They give the title of merchant
to every trader, who rates his goods according
to the time and specie they pay in ; viz., pay,
money, pay as money, and trusting. “Pay’ is
grain, pork and beef, etc., at the prices set by
the general court. ‘Money” is pieces-of-eight,
ryals, Boston or Bay shillings, or good hard mon-
ey, as sometimes silver coin is called; also warm-
pum, viz., Indian beads, which serves as change.
‘Pay as money’ is provision aforesaid one-third
cheaper than the assembly set it; and “trust,’ as
they agree for the time.” A knife, worth in hard
money six pence, would cost twelve pence in pay,
and eight pence in pay as money. In 1712 a ré-
gime of depreciated paper money existed, and a
few years later banks were resorted to. Between
1712 and 1716 the price of silver rose from eight
to twelve shillings per ounce. In 1720 a long list
of commodities receivable for public dues at prices
determined by the general assembly, was issued,
but was repealed in 1723, only to be renewed as
occasion seemed to require. In 1727 silver was
at seventeen shillings per ounce; good merchant-
able beef at £3 per barrel; pork, £5 10s. ; winter
wheat, eight shillings; summer wheat, seven shil-
lings; barley and rye, six shillings; Indian corn,
four shillings per bushel; and other commodities
in proportion. The condition of affairs became
worse in spite of numerous financial expedients
for bettering them. In 1741 Gov. Shirley stated
that exchange between sterling and Massachusetts
paper was 450 per cent. in favor of the former.
As showing the condition two lines may be quoted
from an almanac of 1749 :
“The country maids with sauce to market come,
And carry loads of tattered money home.”
In 1748 the price of silver was forty shillings
per ounce, and one year later had risen to sixty
shillings per ounce, the prices of commodities
following. Then began the oppressive meas-
ures of the English parliament, which ended in
the revolution. The issues of continental Cur-
rency deranged values everywhere. — In 1776
monopolies and extravagant prices in the nec-
essaries of life were important questions, and
in 1777 Massachusetts passed a law fixing the
price of labor and of commodities: Farm labor
in summer shall not exceed three shillings per
day; wheat, 7s.6d. per bushel; rye, 5s. ; wool, 2s.
per pound; beef, 3d. and 4d. per pound; cotton,
3s. per pound by the bag; flannel, 3s. 6d. per
yard; flour, 25s. per cwt.; bloomery iron, 30s.
*
per cwt. at the place of manufacture, etc., etc. —
Much the same course of events was experienced
in the other colonies. In Rhode Island, for ex-
ample, rum, which sold for 13s. per gallon in 1746,
brought £1 in 1748, and £18s. in 1754; molasses,
£1 3s. per gallon in 1746, and £2 11s. in 1765;
salt, 14s. per bushel in 1746, £1 16s. in 1748, and
£2 13s. in 1765; flour, £18 1s. per barrel in 1748,
and £45 4s. 9d. in 1769. In 1779 a convention
fixed the price of rum at £6 15s. per gallon; of
molasses at £4 16s. per gallon; and of Salt at £10
per bushel. Tea was worth £5 17s. per pound;
cotton, £1 17s. per pound; wool, 18s. per pound;
Indian corn, £4 10s. per bushel; and bloomery
iron, £27 per cwt. The wages of a common la-
borer was fixed at £28s. per day, and other labor
in proportion. — It must be obvious that little
would be gained by a more extended study of
these prices. They show a period of enormously
inflated prices, induced by excessive issues of an
irredeemable paper currency. When in 1781 the
legislature of Virginia by law fixed the scale of
depreciation of the continental currency at 1000
to 1, values were no longer measured in this
medium. Throughout this period congress passed
legal tender acts, laws determining the prices of
labor and of commodities, and laws against “fore-
stalling” and “engrossing,” but all to no purpose.
The currency was subject to higher laws than
those of a legislative assembly, and prices were
governed by the currency. As illustrating the
effects of an over-issue of an irredeemable cur-
rency, the period is most instructive; but as re-
gards prices, it is almost barren of results. After
1781 specie began to come into the country, and a
more normal régime of prices was established. —
For the subsequent period there exist few data
for any complete history of prices, and before
attempting to summarize what material is at hand
it will be well to look at the conditions of pro-
duction and the means of marketing the results.
The farmer himself was the principal consumer
of the produce raised on his farm, and his few
and simple wants were almost wholly satisfied by
his household. In 1809 Gallatin estimated that
about two-thirds of the clothing (including hosiery)
and of the house and table linen, worn and used
by the inhabitants of the United States not re-
siding in cities, was the product of family manu-
factures. What few things could not be supplied
in this way he obtained of the village tradesman
or mechanic, between whom and the surround-
ing farmers a limited amount of exchanges took
place. But everything was local. The roads
were bad, the cost of transporting produce was
such as to prohibit any resort to a distant market,
and confined as he was to a limited territory there
was little inducement for the farmer to grow more
than was sufficient to supply his own wants.
Prices also were local. In the neighborhood of
cities, farm produce was higher in price than in
the interior, and the further one went from the
city the lower fell the price, because there was no
market for it. Moreover, prices fluctuated wide-
336
PRICES.
ly; wheat might be very low one year, and at
famine prices the next; it might be superabund-
ant in one county while very scarce in a neighbor-
ing district, the difficulties attending its transpor-
tation prevented an equalization of conditions.
Nor were there the means for marketing the prod-
uce, as the merchant class were rather engaged
in a foreign and not in a home trade, the former
being the more profitable. As the markets were
limited, manufactures were in their infancy. In
fact, everything was primitive, and prices also
were in a rudimentary condition. “Where the
economic life of a people is still undeveloped, and
the production of one enterprise is not from the
first based on the estimated consumption of an-
other, the circulation of goods brings with it
great profits and great losses; whereas, profits
and losses grow smaller, but at the same time
more uniform and regular, in proportion as the
circulation of goods increases in rapidity and,
regularity.” (Stein.)—Such was the condition at
the beginning of the revolution. Laws not only
restricting their power of manufacturing, but also
their power of trading, had been imposed on the
colonies by parliament, so that they were forced
to depend upon their own exertions, both for the
munitions of war and the necessary articles of
consumption, which had previously been chiefly
imported from Great Britain. Exhausted by the
long war, and without funds or credit, with no
regular markets for their produce, jealous of one
another on account of commercial regulations,
and pressed with taxes, some of the states had
recourse to paper money and legal tender laws.
It was a period of great suffering and depression,
and the range of prices differed in each state
according to its currency, and in each district
according to its natural characteristics and the
means of access. On the formation of a stable
central government, confidence was restored, and
with the year 1795 one of our tables of prices
begins. Already the chief industries of the coun-
try were agriculture and commerce. The Euro-
pean wars, which began in 1793, gave a great
impetus to both, a great proportion of the carry-
ing trade of the world being thrown into the
hands of the neutral Americans. The wars lasted
until 1807: in that period the registered tonnage
increased from 367,734 to 848,306, and while the
exports of domestic produce increased barely one-
fifth, the export of foreign products increased
nearly 125 per cent. In years of scarcity in Eng-
land the export of grain would expand, and the
export of cotton show some growth; but gen-
erally speaking, the country had only a small for-
eign market, and was content to do the carry-
ing trade for other nations. Pitkin says of these
years: ‘‘We have before us a table giving the
price of flour at Philadelphia from 1785 to 1828,
a period of forty-four years, the accuracy of
which, we believe, may be relied upon. The av-
erage price of flour, from 1785 to 1793, accord-
ing to this table, was $5.41 per barrel, while the
price from 1793 to 1807 (excluding the years
1802–3, when Europe was at peace under the
treaty of Amiens), being twelve years of war,
was $9.12, making a difference of $4.71 per bar-
rel. * * By adverting to the price from 1820
to 1828, after Europe had again settled down in
peace, it was reduced to $5.46, being only five
cents more than in the first-mentioned period.
The advanced price of agricultural productions,
during the long wars in Europe, was accompanied
by a great advance in the price of lands in the
United States.”— In November, 1807, the Berlin
decree and the British orders in council led to the
withdrawal of the larger part of the foreign com-
merce of the country from the Ocean. The value
of the total exports fell from $108,343,150 in 1807
(of which $48,000,000 were of domestic produce),
to $22,130,960 in 1808 (of which but $9,500,000
were of domestic origin). Shut out from foreign
markets for the time, prices naturally fell sharply,
and this our table shows. In 1809, however, the
export of domestic produce rose, but was not so
large as in 1806–7, and was seriously interfered
with by the war of 1812–14, and fell in value in
the latter year to less than $7,000,000, although
our table shows that prices ruled high. The
carrying trade was for that year mil. This com-
pelled a greater attention to the development of
the internal resources of the country, which had
up to this period remained almost unnoticed.
By shutting off commercial relations with the
outer world the embargo acts, non-intercourse
laws, and, finally, the war, gave an impetus to
domestic manufactures, by creating, as it were,
a market for their products. During the war
prices ruled high, and in some of the states
were further inflated by redundant paper issues.
In 1812–13 silver flowed to New England, being
displaced in the other colonies by the paper cur-
rency. In 1814 business was brisk and prices
rapidly advancing, when the bubble burst, and all
banks outside of New England suspended. The
paper issues increased, and prices continued to
rise. “Money lost its value. The notes of the
city banks depreciated 20 per cent., and those of
the country banks from 20 to 50, and specie so
entirely disappeared from circulation, that even
the fractional parts of a dollar were substituted by
small notes and tickets, issued by banks, corpora-
tions and individuals. The depreciation of money,
enhancing the prices of every species of property
and commodity, appeared like a real rise in value,
and led to all the consequences which are ever at-
tendant upon a gradual advance of prices. The
false delusions of artificial wealth increased the
demand of the farmer for foreign productions,
and led him to consume in anticipation of his
crops. The country trader, seduced by a demand
for more than his ordinary supply of merchandise,
was tempted to the extension of his credit, and
filled his stores, at the most extravagant prices,
with goods vastly beyond what the actual re-
sources of his customers could pay for, while the
importing merchant, having no guide to ascertain
the real wants of the community, but the eager-
PRICES.
337
ness of retailers to purchase his commodities, sent
Orders abroad for a supply of manufactures wholly.
disproportioned to the effective demand of the
Country. Individuals of every profession were
tempted to embark in speculation, and the whole
community was literally plunged in debt. The
plenty of money, as it was called, was so profuse,
that the managers of the banks were fearful they
could not find a demand for all they could fabri-
cate, and it was no unfrequent occurrence to hear
of individuals solicited and urged to become bor-
rowers, under promises as to indulgences the most
tempting. Such continued to be the state of things
until toward the close of the year 1815.” (Quoted
in Gouge.) As in New England specie payments
Were maintained, this speculative mania was not
reflected in our table. The abuses of “banking,”
which at that time was considered to be issuing
notes, were the main cause of the fluctuations in
prices from this period even down to 1860. Almost
every state had a circulation of its own, and the
scale of depreciation differed in each state. To
make the currency more uniform, congress estab-
lished a national bank in 1816, and the state banks
resumed specie payments in 1817. In the next
two years banks were greatly multiplied in the
west, nearly all issued circulating notes, and con-
ducted their operations in a reckless manner. The
national bank speculated in its own shares, forcing
the price up to $156.50 per share in September,
1817, but in December, 1818, it had fallen to $110
per share. In 1819 the crisis came, and a period
of stagnation and depression succeeded. Land in
Pennsylvania was worth, on the average, in 1809,
$38 per acre; in 1815, $150; in 1819, $35. “The
newspapers of 1819 contain numerous accounts of
riots, incendiary fires, frauds and robberies. The
house committee spoke of the ‘change of the
moral character of many of our citizens by the
presence of distress.’ The distress extended to
New England, but was less severe there than else-
where. In the west it was intense. * * Stag-
nation and distress lasted throughout 1820. Prices
were at the lowest ebb, and liquidation went
slowly on. Wheat sold at twenty cents per bushel
in Kentucky. A man in western Kentucky stop-
ped “Niles’ Register’ because one barrel of flour
used to pay a year's subscription; now three bar-
rels would not. At Pittsburgh flour was $1 per
barrel ; boards, 20 cents per hundred; sheep, $1.
Imported goods were at the old prices. * * *
Rent of a given house in Philadelphia fell from
$1,200 to $450; fuel from $12 to $5.50; flour from
$10 to $4.50; beef from 25 cents to 8 cents
per pound. * * Wages were low on half
time.” (Sumner and Gouge.) In 1821 occurred
a slight reaction, but prices fell again in 1822.
Stop laws, stays of execution and execution acts
were passed, in the hope of relieving the distress.
Briefly summarized the course of events was as
follows: 1821, business was dull in the beginning
of the year. The effects of an expansion, appar-
ently commenced in the spring, began to be felt
in June or July, and by October the spirit of spec-
141 VOL. III. — 22
ulation was tolerably active. In 1822, a reaction
commenced in May; some kinds of imported goods
fell 15 per cent. in Philadelphia; and United
States bank stock, which had been held at 115 in
February, was sold in New York on the 1st of
May at 102, and before night had fallen to 98%.
The effects of the reaction were felt throughout
the year. In 1823–4, banks extended their oper-
ations, increased their issues, and the spirit of
speculation was excited, resulting in the crisis of
1825. In April (1825) news came of a great rise of
prices in English markets, and excited great spec-
ulation here. Twenty-seven cents were offered
for upland cotton, and refused, though the holders
would, a week before, have been happy to obtain
20 cents; cotton yarn, No. 15, rose from 35 to 45
cents; Muscovado Sugars advanced a dollar on a
hundred, and St. Domingo coffee rose from 17% to
21 cents per pound. The rise in the prices of
tobacco, drugs and spices was very considerable.
The mania applied chiefly to cotton, and lasted
through May and June. The “Charlestown Pa-
triot” mentioned that “the same parcel of cotton
had changed owners six or seven times within
a week without leaving the hands of the factor.”
Corn was uprooted in order that cotton might be
planted. In July the news of a fall of 3d. a pound
in the price of cotton in Liverpool pricked the
bubble and precipitated a crisis. The effects of
the reaction continued through 1826, in a general
dullness of business. “In the Southern states the
consequences were most trying, as the high price
of cotton had led to an over-extension of the cult.
ure of that article, and as the planters, encouraged
by the demand for their staple, had plunged them-
selves in debt to support a splendid style of living.
The manufacturers of cotton were, also, great
sufferers. Cotton cloth, which it cost 18 cents
per yard to import in 1825, was imported in the
spring of 1826, at 13 cents.” (Gouge.) — We
must now retrace our steps, and note two impor-
tant influences which were beginning to be ex-
erted on prices in this period. During the war
large amounts of capital were invested in manu-
factures, especially in woolen and cotton mills.
On the return of peace there occurred, as we have
seen, an era of speculation, and enormous im-
portations were made without regard to the con-
dition of the markets and the ability of the pur.
chasers. During the first three-quarters of 1815
the value of imports was $83,080,073, and from
October, 1815, to the same month in 1816, the value
amounted to the enormous sum of $115,302,700,
of which but $18,000,000 were re-exported. About
$70,000,000 of the imports represented woolens
and cottons. The domestic manufacturers could
not make any progress in the glutted markets,
and appealed to congress. The tariff act of 1816,
having especial reference to cotton and woolen
manufactures, was passed, and as the first really
protective tariff it marks the beginning of that
long course of legislation which has materially af-
fected the prices of manufactured goods. Hence-
forward this must always be taken into account,
338 PRICES.

P. # g * § *
YEARS. $– * & º Q 4-3 ºd fº | 33 § & § § $
É | # | 3 | # | 3 || | | | | # #| # | 3 | # | 3 | #
ſº O £d ſº ſº ſº Pi— Fr. O E- E-i CQ E. O
bbl. bu bu. bu. Cwt. blol. bbl. Gwt. l Cwt. lb. Cwt. gal lb.
1795--------- $12.00 $1.00 || $1.16 |------- $7.00 || $13.00 || $18.00 4.66 |$0.33 $ 6.87 $1.33 || $14.00 ($0.60 |$0.21
1796-------- 16.00 | 1.25 | 1.30 $1.00 8.00 || 14.00 | 18.00 6.00 | .3 7.00 1.25 13.16 | .62 .25
1797--------- 10.00 | 1.00 | 1.33 | 1.00 4.00 13.00 | 18.50 5.50 | .30 9.00 1.50 | 16.00 .68 .26
1798--------- 7.00 .60 75 .90 2.25 || 10.00 | 18.70 4.25 36 | 12.00 1.42 | 15.50 | .56 24
1799--------- 10.00 .67 .83 .83 3.00 8.00 || 17.00 3.50 36 || 10 50 1.50 | 16.00 | .50 30
1800--------- 10 00 .75 | 1.00 .79 4.50 8.00 || 17.00 3.50 40 5.00 1.34 || 14.00 | .48 25
1801--------- 13.00 | 1.16 | 1.20 .90. 7.00 || 13.00 || 26.00 6.00 .30 5.50 1.10 || 14,00 | .56 26
1802--------- 9.00 .63 .83 | 1.25 4.75 | 11.00 | 18.00 4.25 | .25 7.50 1.04 || 15.50 .36 22
1803--------- 7.00 .70 .75 | 1.00 6.25 | 13.00 | 16.00 4.50 . 19 7.25 1.16 || 13.00 | .42 22
1804--------- 7.75 .86 .84 .83 5.50 | 12.00 | 15.50 4.80 | .18 8,50 1.35 | 13.00 | .54 28
1805--------. 13.00 | 1.25 .33 1.00 6.50 | 10.00 | 16.50 5.50 .25 8.00 1.20 | 14.50 | .40 31
1806--------- 7.50 .75 1. 10 92 5.25 10.50 | 21.00 4.25 | .23 7.50 1.20 | 12.00 .38 32
1807--------- 8.25 | 1.00 .96 .90 5.25 | 11.00 22.00 4.50 | .21 8.50 1.12 || 11,50 .41 32
1808--------- 6.00 .65 .65 .90 3.25 | 10.00 || 15.00 3.50 | .17 8.00 1.00 | 12.00 .50 25
1809--------- 7.50 .80 | 1.00 .75 3.75 11.50 | 17.50 3.50 | .17 7.00 1.30 || 13.50 , 52 27
1810--------- 8.25 | 1.15 1.75 .87 4.00 | 10.00 | 19.00 3.00 | . 16 8.00 1.00 | 12.50 .48 24
1811--------- 10.50 .95 | 1.40 .92 3.50 10.00 | 18.00 4.00 | .15 6.00 .95 || 14.00 .54 17
1812--------- 10.75 1.00 1 08 .85 4.75 | 12.00 | 16.00 3.75 | .11 6.00 .95 | 12.50 | .52 16
1818--------- 13.00 1.25 | 1.40 | 1.10 7.00 | 10.00 | 18.00 4.50 | .18 5.00 1.75 15.50 .75 21
1814--------- 14, 50 | 1.67 || 2.25 | 1.20 7.00 11.00 22.00 5.50 | .27 6.50 2.10 | 18.50 .85 24
1815--------- 9.25 | 1.00 | 1.12 | 1.08 3.63 12.50 || 25.00 5.50 | .20 7.00 1.75 | 16.00 .75 23
1816--------- 7.37 | 1.00 | 1.00 | 1.08 4.75 | 11.50 || 22.00 3.75 | .30 | 20.00 1.70 || 17.50 .57 24
1817--------- 14.75 | 1.90 | 1.55 | 1.20 7.25 | 12.00 | 26.00 3.60 | .27 | 13.00 1.20 14.50 | .53 20
1818--------- 10.25 | 1.08 || 1.08 .95 6.75 13.50 | 26.50 |_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ .32 | 12.00 1.20 || 14.00 .54 26
1819--------- 8.00 .80 .90 | 1.00 6.25 || 14.50 | 21.00 3.50 || ||25 | 12.00 1.10 | 16.00 .50 30
1820--------- 5.37 .60 .65 .67 3.50 | 10.00 || 14.50 2.75 | .16 7.00 .95 || 10.00 .30 26
1821--------- 4.25 .43 .45 .50 3.25 8.50 | 11 50 3.00 | . 14 6.00 .94 || 11.00 .28 27
1822--------- 7.00 .84 .78 .65 3.50 7.75 13.00 3.00 | .18 6.50 .90 | 12.50 .32 29
1823--------- 7.75 .63 .70 .65 3.75 8.25 | 13.00 3.00 | .11 || 10.00 .95 || 12.00 | .28 26
1824--------- 6.62 .48 .58 .60 3.75 7.00 12.00 3.00 | . 16 || 10.00 1.00 || 10.00 .27 19
1825--------- 5.87 53 .58 .50 3.75 7.50 || 14 00 2.75 | .20 | 10.00 1.05 || 11.00 .28 18
1826--------- 5.25 85 .75 80 3.50 8.00 | 12.00 2.75 | . 13 9.00 1.06 || 10.50 | .28 17
1827--------- 6.00 75 .90 | 1.05 3.25 8.00 || 10.50 3.50 | .11 9.00 .95 9.75 .33 15
28--------- 5.50 55 .55 70 3.75 8.25 || 13.00 2.62 | .11 6.50 1.05 9.25 .30 15
1829--------- 8.00 63 .82 65 3.92 9.50 | 1.4.00 2.37 || - 12 4.50 .95 || 10.64 .30 13
1830--------- 5.00 55 .65 50 3.00 7.75 | 12.00 2.08 .11 6.00 90 9.50 .25 12
1881--------- 7.25 82 .81 60 3.62 7.75 14.00 3.00 | . 10 6.12 95 9.50 .27 12
1832--------- 5.62 62 .85 75 3.62 8.25 13.00 2.75 | . 11 5.50 80 8.40 .27 13
1833--------- 5.87° 80 .90 65 3.62 8.75 || 13.50 2.50 | . 12}| 5.00 70 | 10.08 .32 13
1834--------- 5.50 66 .62 65 3.36 8.50 | 12.50 2.33 12}| 7.00 70 || 10.64 .34 12
as it artificially raises prices and introduces a dis-
turbing influence. The fact may be noted, with-
out attempting to trace the effects of the many tar-
iff laws on prices. Manufactures began to extend
as population increased, as their demands became
enlarged, and as the great natural resources of
the country were developed. The introduction of
machinery supplanted the household industries,
and the growth of a market for manufactured
goods allowed the concentration of processes in
large establishments, where a more minute divis-
ion of employments could be carried out; the rise
of manufacturing towns, and the wider cultiva-
tion of the raw materials of manufactures, accom-
panied these altered conditions. This resulted in
a gradual fall in the prices of manufactured goods,
as improvements in processes were introduced, or
a wider market, both to buy and to sell in, arose.
From this time on, prices of manufactures became
steadier, and followed, in a general way, the eco-
nomic condition of the markets. – Another im-
portant influence consisted in the improved means
of transportation and of marketing goods, which
brought the producer near to the consumer, re-
duced the cost of transporting products, and thus
extended the markets, while at the same time
equalizing prices by allowing a freer and more
rapid interchange of commodities in all parts of
the country. As early as 1790 Pennsylvania un-
dertook to construct canals, but the attempt was
abortive, and ended disastrously. It was not until
the completion of the Erie canal, in 1825, that
extensive schemes of internal improvements were
laid out. In ten years (1822–32) the amount of
tolls collected on the Erie canal had increased
from $44,486 to $1,196,008. “By means of this
extensive water communication through a coun-
try naturally extremely fertile, the farms of the
west are placed nearly upon an equality with
those of the east, in the vicinity of the great mar-
ket towns and cities.” (Pitkin.) The success at-
tending this canal aroused a spirit of emulation in
the neighboring states, and the construction of
canals in Pennsylvania opened up the coal fields,
thus bringing to the market a most important fac-
tor of production. Delaware, Maryland and Wir-
ginia also constructed canals, and the spirit for
canal improvement passed into Ohio, nearly 400
miles of artificial inland navigation being Colil-
pleted before 1835. Pitkin estimated, that, in
1835, upward of 2,867 miles of canals had been
built, at a cost of $65,000,000, and the expendi-
ture had been made chiefly during the previous
fifteen years. Steam navigation was being intro-
duced on the rivers, and, beginning with 1826,
railways for the transportation of passengers and
merchandise were being built, and their rapid
extension, superseding in a great measure all other
modes of conveyance, has resulted in making the
country practically one market. The two impor-
tant factors in making prices were a vast increase
in production, and a greater degree of accessibility
PRICES.
339
to markets, The population, or market, at each
decade since 1830, is in the following table com-
pared with the growth of railroad facilities:
TYEARS. Population. E. 3.
1830--------------------------- 12,866,020 23
0--------------------------- 17,069,453 2,818
1850--------------------------- 23,191,876 9,021
1800--------------------------- 33,443,321 30,635
1870--------------------------- 38,558,371 52,914
1880--------------------------- 50,155,783 93,671
— From 1831, with which year our second table
of prices begins, it may be said that the prices
follow almost regular cycles of rise and fall, fol-
lowing closely the periods of speculation and sub-
Sequent depressions. Commercial crises occur
periodically, about every ten years, and the course
is pretty much the same in every case. The ex-
tension of credit may occur under a redeemable,
as well as an irredeemable, currency, but the con-
sequent prices are higher, and their fluctuations
greater, under the latter. In 1825, as we have
seen, there was a crisis, which had been preceded
by inflated prices. The years 1837, 1839, 1857
and 1873 were each marked by great financial dis-
turbances, which were reflected in the industry
of the country. — Returning to where we left off
in our examination of prices, in the year 1827
money was plenty, but in 1828 there was an
alarming scarcity of money in May and Septem-
ber, and this continued until July, 1829, when
great distress was felt. Prices ruled low. In
Rhode Island ‘‘ Lhe eInbarrassIIleIILs which have
been realized in this immediate neighborhood for
the last ten days, have had no parallel in the his-
tory of the republic. Men of reputed capital,
who have withstood the shock of former changes
and times; men who for the last forty years have
stood firm, erect and undismayed before the tem-
pests of the times that have assailed them, are
now tottering on the verge of bankruptcy and
ruin. Their fall bears excessively heavy on the
poor and laboring classes, who, by the way, are in
reality the principal sufferers. * * Within the
last ten days, within the circle of the ten adjacent
miles (Providence), upward of 2,500 people have
been suddenly and unexpectedly thrown out of
employment, and the distress that such an event
has produced can be far better imagined than de-
scribed.” In the next two years money was plen-
tiful, and prices began in 1830 to rise. “In 1831,
which was a year of great expansion, rents rose
enormously in many parts of the town (Philadel-
phia), store goods advanced in price, and such
fresh provisions as are sold in the market were
higher than they had been at any time since the
resumption of specie payments; but the money
rate of wages was hardly affected.” (Niles.) In
1834 there was distress, incident to the fear of
results attending the withdrawal of public de-
posits from the United States bank, and in the
same year prices were influenced by an alteration
in the coinage laws which practically changed
the standard from silver to gold. In 1835 the
government was out of debt, and possessed a
Surplus, and the expansion of bank issues began.
A speculative period followed, and speculation
in cotton was especially marked. Whereas the
price of upland cotton in 1834 was 12.5 cents per
pound, in 1835 it was 16.7 cents, and in 1836,
16.6 cents per pound, when its price was sud-
denly lowered by the stringency in the money
market. Thousands of persons had been tempted
by the high prices to embark in the cultivation of
this staple, and when the fall came, it proved dis-
astrous. Speculation had extended in every di.
rection, and even to western lands, an unlimited
quantity of which might be had at a fixed price.
The revulsion ran through the whole speculative
system. In May a delegation of the merchants
of New York represented that real estate in New
York had in six months shrunk $40,000,000; in
two months 250 firms had failed, and stocks had
shrunk $20,000,000; merchandise had fallen 30
per cent., and within a few weeks 20,000 persons
had been thrown out of employment. (Quoted
in Sumner.) The banks throughout the country
suspended, and the distress was increased by a
failure of the wheat crop, grain being imported
from abroad. In 1835 wheat was selling at $1.22
per bushel, in 1836 at $1.78, in 1837 at $1.69, and
in 1838 at $1.90. The next year it had fallen to
$1.24 per bushel. In 1838 a great number of the
banks resumed, but in 1839 came a bank crash,
chiefly due to speculation in cotton. Cotton (up-
land) in 1838 sold for 10.6 cents per pound, in
1839 at 13.3 cents, and in 1840 at 8.7 cents. In
1843 it had fallen as low as 6.6 cents per pound,
nor did it recover until 1847. Prices were falling
until 1843, when they began to rise again under
the more improved conditions, the banks having
resumed in 1842, which allowed a new and
healthy development of industry and credit. The
prices reached in 1843 have rightly been called
the “low-water mark of the century,” as the
limit has never since been reached. “The fall
of prices from 1839 to 1843 was not due to any
forced contraction of the currency. The more
correct explanation of the phenomena is that the
destruction of the banking system brought with
it a collapse of the industry of the country. * *
The year 1843 was one of the gloomiest in our
industrial history. The grand promise of ten
years before was now entirely obscured. Mort-
gaged property was passing into the hands of the
mortgagees. Factories were idle. Trade was
dull, investments slow.” (Sumner.) In 1844
prices began to mend. In 1847 the exports of
breadstuffs were very large, owing to a partial
failure of the crops in England, and the abolition
of the British corn laws opened up a market for
the agricultural produce of the country. Immi-
gration commenced to flow into the country On a
larger scale, and the internal development of the
country kept up with these improved conditions,
The discovery of the California mines in 1847
aided this growth, and in the following year large

| 340
PRICES.

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TABLE SHowING THE ANNUAL AvRRAGE GoLD PRICE OF STAPLE ARTICLES IN THE NEw York MARKET, 1831–81.
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TABLE SHOWING THE ANNUAL AvHRAGE GOLD PRICE OF STAPLE ARTICLES IN THE NEw York MARKET, 1831–81.-Continued.





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PRIMARY ELECTIONS.
343
sums of foreign capital were sent here for invest-
ment. The rise in prices was very rapid between
1850 and 1853, and continued until 1857, aided
by an expansion of bank issues. Cotton sold for
9 cents in 1852; in 1856 for 10.6, and in 1857 for
14 cents per pound. In 1857 the crisis came,
banks suspended, and prices dropped, reaching
their lowest limit in 1861, after which time they
were unnaturally increased by the changed con-
ditions forced upon the country by the rebellion.
All banks suspended in 1861, and in 1862 an era
of irredeemable paper currency was entered into,
which lasted until 1879. The financial policy
pursued, only aggravated the disturbance. In
1863 gold was at 140–150, and the paper dollar
was worth only 65 or 70 cents; under further
issues gold rose to 200–220, making the paper
worth 45 or 50 cents. A tariff, higher and there-
fore more restrictive, than the country had ever
before experienced, was built up between 1861–6,
the duties collected in 1865 being 54 per cent. of
the dutiable imports. An onerous system of in-
ternal taxation was adopted, under which a com-
modity and its various parts were subject to many
different taxes, thus vastly increasing its price.
The special commissioner of the revenue (Mr.
David A. Wells), in his report for 1866, says that
a somewhat extended investigation respecting the
advance in the prices of the leading articles of
consumption and of rents, indicated an increase
of nearly 90 per cent. in the year 1866, as com-
pared with the mean of prices during the four
years 1859 to 1862. The price of cotton varied
from 300 to 500 per cent. above the price in 1860.
The price of labor, however, did not advance in
an equal ratio with the price of commodities,
being but about 60 per cent. The effect of the
great increase and disturbance of prices thus no-
ticed, he summarizes as follows: a decrease of pro-
duction and consumption, and a partial suspen-
sion of national development. — At the end of the
war the country showed a wonderful recuperative
power. In 1868 over-production was complained
of, and prices continued to fall until 1871. Some
of the burdens to which the industry of the coun-
try had been subjected by the war were removed
in these years, and, although prices were low, the
country was being prepared for a period of great
speculation and inflation, which culminated in
1873. During the next six years the country ex-
perienced one of the most, if not the most, severe
periods of commercial and financial depression
it ever felt, and one of its marked characteristics
was the great shrinkage everywhere felt in values.
In 1879 there again occurred a great revival in
business, marked by a rapid increase in prices;
but this led to such an enormous production in
the great industries, notably in iron, woolen and
cotton manufactures, and paper industries, that in
less than three years prices had nearly touched
the low level they had reached in 1878. — Such,
in brief, has been the general course of prices in
the United States. Each commodity, however,
has its own history, and ought to be studied
Carefully, not only by itself, but also in connec-
tion with all other commodities. This, however,
the limits of the present article would not permit,
and this “sketch " must be sufficient. The first
of our tables shows the prices of leading commod-
ities in Boston, and was prepared by Mr. John
Hayward. Our second table is taken from the
report of the director of the mint for 1881; all
gold prices.—AUTHORITIES. The works of Rog-
ers (Agriculture and Prices in England, 1259–1582,
4 vols.) and of Tooke and Newmarch (History of
Prices, 1793–1856, 6 vols.) are two of the most
Valuable contributions ever made to economic
science. The essays of Felt, Phillips, Bronson,
Gouge, and Raquet, on American currencies, are
valuable, and Sumner's History of American Cup-
767-cy is the best work that has yet appeared on
this subject. The same author's Life of Jackson, .
should also be studied. Niles’ Register contains
much that throws light upon the course of prices.
Walker's Money shows the changes that have oc-
curred in the value of the precious metals, and
the reports of the various international confer-
ences on silver should be consulted. The French
economist A. de Foville has made a special study
of prices during the present century, and the re-
sults of his studies were published in L'econo-
'miste Français. Giffen’s Essays in Finance and
Grosvenor's Does Protection Protect? contain sug-
gestive special studies of prices, as does Cliffe-
Leslie's Essays in Political and Moral Philosophy.
The reports of Mr. David A. Wells while special
commissioner of the revenue should be carefully
studied. WORTHINGTON C. FORT).
PRIMARY ELECTIONS. Primary elections,
the caucus and the caucus system, are terms used
to designate the political action through which
nominations for elective Officers are made. In a
restricted sense, primary elections would only re-
fer to the election of delegates and committees in
the primary assemblies of the people, or to politi-
cal associations for political purposes; but the
phrase is used herein as comprehending the theory
and action of both those associations and of the
delegates they select. —By reason of the very re-
stricted suffrage in Great Britain, until within a
few years, her history affords little instruction in
regard to such elections. Her politicians are now
looking to our system, as by far the most de-
veloped, for light in dealing with problems which
the ballot and her enlarged suffrage have lately
presented. — In a sparse population, or even be-
fore considerable cities arise, there are so few
officers elected, and all political affairs are so
simple and transparent, that if what may be called
a “primary system ’’ exists, it rarely develops
abuses. Those who are most worthy of office,
and the merits of those who seek it, are known
to nearly all the voters. Complex machinery for
nominations and for the support of Candidates,
is equally unnecessary and unavailing. The
gains to be derived from controlling caucuses
and coercing officials, are too small to enable
344
PRIMARY ELECTIONS.
political manipulators to convert such matters
into a profitable business. – But the growth of
cities and of the complexity of life which creates
a need for elaborate police and sanitary adminis-
tration, soon causes some organization for making
nominations to be indispensable. At first it is
very simple, hardly more than an informal com-
ing together of the more patriotic citizens just be.
fore the election. The caucus system of New
England, said to have been devised by Samuel
Adams, was in theory, and at least in early prac-
tice, little more than an extemporized consultation
by the voters generally—or by a portion of them
and the recognized leaders of the others acting
publicly for those who did not attend in person—
for the purpose of deciding upon the proper
persons to be voted for at the next elections. The
idea of dictation, monopoly or gain, was no part
of the motive force of the system. Such, too, is
that system as now being generally carried into
effect in the country districts. But in the larger
cities of New England, as in other cities, it has
lost much of its original justice and purity in the
growth of vicious methods more or less analogous
to those of New York and Philadelphia. — The
long habit of treating whatever action precedes
the election as beyond the domain of law, and
hence as within the range of the absolute, irrespon-
sible liberty of the citizen, naturally causes every
proposal to bring primary elections within statute
regulation to be denounced as a species of des-
potism, repugnant to the just liberty of parties
and the private rights of politicians. They ap-
peal to the past as illustrating the true sphere of
law and of the liberty of partisans, precisely as
the authors of intolerable nuisances and the build-
ers of unsafe houses make the same appeal, when
for the first time safe walls and good sewerage
and ventilation are required by law. — A resort
to the same reasoning is also prompted by other
motives.
party managers—by chieftains and bosses in their
final development—creates powerful combinations
and interests in behalf of its continuance. A
specious appeal to a pretended natural right and
to familiar usage is thus made to cover gross
forms of corruption and extreme methods of des.
potism. — Further than this, those who make a
trade of politics, and find a profit in giving their
time to manipulating primaries and dictating
nominations, charge those who can not give so
much attention to politics with neglecting their
political duties, and with complaining of abuses
of which their own neglect is declared to be in
large measure the cause. There is unquestiona-
bly some foundation for this charge ; but it is
vastly overstated. The important question is,
whether we have a good primary system, whether
a better one is practicable, and whether the facili-
ties for making a lucrative trade of politics may
not and should not be checked by law. — There
is yet another cause worthy of notice, which fa-
cilitated the toleration of those abuses until long
after their magnitude had required the hand of
The control of primary elections by
the legislator. Besides, being of a character little
open to observation, they were connected with a
discharge of public duty by those causing them,
the very performance of which seemed to super.
sede the need of the citizens giving much atten.
tion to the elections. To assail the abuses, there-
fore, seemed to combine ingratitude with self-
condemnation. It was only when the evil began
to be alarming that the higher public opinion be-
gan to boldly condemn such specious arguments,
and to reason soundly on the subject. —It was in
the very nature of these abuses that they should
be the greatest in New York city, where popu.
lation is most concentrated, the greatest number
of officers are to be elected, and the extremes of
ignorance, poverty and wealth are the most de-
veloped. They had there become so threatening
before 1866, that in that year the New York legis-
lature, in a statute in a loose way covering the
principle of adequate legislation, made penal cer-
tain forms of bribery at primary elections. The
active and venal classes interested in the corrup-
tions of her primary system have thus far, how-
ever, been strong enough to prevent an efficient
execution of the law. But, in the meantime, the
sense of peril and duty has developed far more
potentially, demanding more comprehensive en-
actments in the same spirit. This demand caused
two limited enactments on the subject by the New
York legislature of last winter. In the same
spirit there has been legislation on the subject in
Ohio, Virginia (applicable to Richmond) and in
Pennsylvania, though on several points it is yet
very defective. The two laws enacted in Penn-
sylvania last winter are far more comprehensive
and penal than those of the same date enacted in
New York. But in some respects the statutes of
Ohio on the subject are superior to both. In
Ohio (Rev. Stat., vol. i., §§ 2916–2921, and vol. ii.,
§§ 7039–7044), primary elections are in large
measure brought under the general election laws.
Notice of the elections must be published and
posted. Judges, clerks and supervisors of the
electious are to be sworn. Any qualified elector
may challenge any one offering to vote, and ques-
tions must be put touching his qualifications.
The offering or accepting of money or reward by a
voter to influence his vote at a primary election, or
the making of threats, or any attempts to intimi-
date or distract a voter at such election, are made
penal, and are also a disqualification; and SO is the
asking or receiving of any money or property by
any delegate from any candidate for nomination,
or the paying or promising of any money by any
candidate to any delegate for the purpose of ob-
taining any influence or vote in a convention. It
is also made penal and a disqualification for hold-
ing the office, for any candidate for nomination by
a political party for an office of trust or profit, to do
any act forbidden as aforesaid, for the purpose of
securing influence in his behalf. These provis-
ions are in a high degree comprehensive and salu-
tary, and they deserve the attention of other
states. Yet they are less complete, in important
PRIMARY ELECTIONS.
345
particulars, than the English bribery and office-
brokerage laws in this article referred to. — The
statutes of California make the calling and hold-
ing of primary meetings under the election laws
optional. But, in case they are so held, some
special provisions of a mild character are add-
ed. The entire provisions are meagre and inad-
equate. (Political Code, section 1357.)—In New
York the corruption and despotism of her sys-
tem of primary elections are now regarded as
so intolerable that the state convention of each
party, for the present year, has made a pledge
in its platform to reform that system. But much
diversity of opinion exists as to the most ap-
propriate and efficient means. –To comprehend
the system is the first essential step toward a
remedy for its abuses. Wherever such abuses
exist, they tend to become identical with those
in New York, falling short as do population,
complexity and ignorance. If a remedy can be
found there, it can be found everywhere. If
the evil grows at that great centre, it encour-
ages imitation in every other city. Let us, then,
see what they have become. — The vastness of
the population and the great number and variety
of the officers to be elected are important elements
of the problem. In towns and villages, every
shoemaker at his bench, and every woman over
her wash tub, may know the merits of the candi-
dates. But in a city of 1,200,000 people, not one
voter in a hundred is acquainted with one in
twenty of the candidates. Besides voting for
governors and federal electors, the city elects sev-
en members of congress, five state Senators, and
twenty-four members of the assembly. To these
the local judges, justices, coroners, the mayor and
aldermen, and other officers, both executive and
judicial, who are elective, must be added. Each
party, and sometimes each faction, has its candi-
dates. An official list of the candidates to be
voted for in November, 1881, though no governor
or lieutenant governor, only two members of con-
gress, and no judge of any one of the three high-
er courts in the city, were to be elected, yet shows
165 candidates in the field to be voted for on the
same day. At some elections hardly less than 200
candidates are pressing their claims. There are
688 different places where the votes are received
in the city. The legislative officers of a town or
village represent the peculiar local interests and
views as to the corporation, of which the voters
are well informed. These views and interests are
the basis of responsibility and the test of fidelity.
In a great city, the districts or wards, in which
such officers are elected, and which in theory they
represent, are little more than nominal divisions—
the dwellers in so many blocks of houses sepa-
rated only by streets from the next divisions—
having no organic relations and no peculiar inter-
est or opinions to be represented; such conditions
are very unfavorable to a high sense of responsi-
bility to constituents. They make all local test of
fidelity almost impossible. The boundaries of
the 688 polling districts are as arbitrary as those
of the districts for representation. The voters,
on an average, perhaps do not know by sight one
in twenty of the persons who vote at the same
place. All such facts add new facilities to those
afforded by the heterogeneousness of the popula-
tion and the great number of the candidates, for
double and treble false voting, fraudulent persona-
tion and counts at these numerous polling places
—evils which the most stringent registry laws and
the most efficient inspection can do little more
than mitigate. Ignorance on the part of the voter
of much that he needs to know, a sense of irre-
sponsibility on the part of candidates and officials,
and an almost impenetrable complication in the
whole machinery of primary elections, are natural
under such conditions. They suggest the possi-
bility of making a vast and profitable business
and a potent influence in politics, through con-
trolling “the primaries,” and thereby predeter-
mining the elections. For many of those candi-
dates the whole city votes; for others only a few
wards or districts: for still others only a single
one of the Smaller districts. The great parties —
the chieftains, bosses and their lieutenants who
have reduced the nominating machinery to a sys-
tem and become experts in its management — are
a central power, the whole force of which can be
concentrated upon the smallest district. Those
who confront it there stand alone. Citizens who
do not make a business of politics lack the organ-
ization and time necessary for resisting success-
fully the aggressive and ceaseless activity of the
great party managers. The greed of many for
office; the ambition of scheming leaders for pat-
romage and Supremacy; the fierce zeal of partisans
for party victory; the heat, recklessness and im-
petuosity born of nearly 200,000 voters contending
together in the political arena of a single city, in
which a nomination at the primaries, unless there
be a popular uprising, is essential to an election:
these are but a part of the elements which give
importance to primary elections, and concentrate
upon them all the cunning, intrigue and interests
of the politician class. That class acts upon the
theory that the primary elections practically de-
cide who is to be elected, and that the control of
them is, in a general way, the control of the legis-
lative, executive and judicial authority, by which
1,200,000 people are governed. — The other ele-
ments of the primary system are more venal and
corrupt, being in part the outgrowth of the abuses
of the primary system itself. 1. There are, sub-
ordinate to these elected officers, about 10,000
officials and many employés in the city, of whom
the annual compensation (including that of the
elected officers) is nearly eleven millions of dol-
lars. And of federal officials there are in the city
more than 2,500 (besides employés), whose annual
compensation exceeds $2,500,000. There are to
be added also many salaried officials of the state
who serve in the city. It has long been the prac-
tice of both parties (and sometimes even of chief-
tains and bosses on their own account) to levy
upon such salaries and wages amounts varying
346
PRIMARY ELECTIONS.
from 1 to 3 or 4 per cent., under the name of “po-
litical assessments” (see ASSESSMENTs, and “North
American Review,” for September, 1882); and
the large sums thus extorted have been used to
meet the expenses both of the primary system and
of party management generally. 2. This habit
of assessment extortion, which is really the en-
forcement of an annual rent upon his office against
the public servant (a practice vigorously supported
by the elected officers) naturally led to the prac-
tice of demanding money for a primary nomina-
tion. Vast sums are thus obtained, to be used for
the same objects as the assessment collections.
Here is a practice having all the iniquity of a
public sale of offices. There is, in fact, what may
be called a customary price required for nomina-
tion to the respective grades of office, and good
reason for thinking that from $500 to $1,000 is ex-
acted for a nomination to the legislature and from
$1,000 to $5,000 for nomination to a judgeship.
(See last citations.) The demoralizing effects of
Such practices, and the vicious and almost irre-
sistible potency they give to the regular nominat-
ing machinery, are obvious. 3. The other great
element of corruption at the primaries is not less
powerful and demoralizing. Under the spoils
system (See article under this heading), this vast
army of subordinates, federal, state and munici-
pal, have had their appointments dictated by the
elected official and the party chieftains. It has
been a part of the conditions of the nomination,
not Only that they should pay such assessments
or be removed, but that, subject to the same pen-
alty, they should render active feudal service to
the powers that gave them places. Failing to do
this, they are, under that system, sure to be re-
moved. (See REMOVALs.) These thousands of
officials under such a tenure, have swelled the
list of obedient voters at the primary meetings,
and of subservient workers for the election of
the nominees of such meetings. – In these facts
we find the intimate relations between the purifi-
cation of the primaries and the great problem of
civil service reform. If the primaries were hon-
est and made worthy nominations, the great offi-
cers could no longer secure money and henchmen
by plundering and enslaving the humble mem-
ber of the civil service. If the civil service was
filled by the more meritorious, selected through
competitive examinations (see CIVIL SERVICE RE-
FORM), subordinate officials would be under no
pledges and have no inclination to pay assessments
or perform degrading partisan work. — With such
facts in mind, let us see what kind of a primary
system has been developed in New York. The
practical methods of that system, as it is now en-
forced by either party, were matured under the
control of the Tammany society. That society,
generally designated as “Tammany Hall,” was
founded in the first year of Washington's adminis-
tration, and was incorporated in 1805. It had
originally a benevolent or patriotic purpose, and a
distinguished membership. But as early as 1812
it was seeking political control. In 1827 it began
to meddle with the primaries, and by 1834 it was
dominant in city politics. There seems to be good
authority for saying, that, in the forty-eight years.
since which New York has elected her mayors,
Tammany Hall has controlled their nomination
for at least thirty years. Its power had become
absolute alike over nominations, appointments,
assessments, removals, and all city expenditures,
long before the Saturnalia of corruption, pillage
and despotism, during which Tweed, Barnard,
Fisk, and their associates, flourished. The society
is permanent. It has a central general committee
with autocratic power, whose action is final and
Secret. There are subcommittees in each of the
twenty-four assembly districts, whose members are
drawn from each of the 784 election districts in
the city; there being, in all, from 2,500 to 3,000
of these working committeemen. The general
Committee appears to have power to supersede
any nomination made in any of the districts, and
it may remove any subcommitteeman for insubor-
dination. While this great central authority has
not wholly prevented the growth of powerful fac-
tions in the democratic party, it has, with slight
exception, controlled with a resistless hand all the
primary elections of the party, and no rebellious
faction has long survived. It has sold nomina-
tions, and levied assessments in vast amounts, to
fill its treasury, and has used the money to pay its
expenses, to bribe the press, to purchase the sup-
port of persons of influence, and to reward its own
chieftains. It has also rewarded its friends and
bribed its opponents by the gift of places in the
public service. It has converted those who fill
that service into henchmen as servile, and into
voters as compliant, as its own dependent commit-
tees. Its perpetuity of corporate life; its long ex-
perience in the arts of manipulation; its ability
to fill its own treasury by indirectly plundering,
through assessments, that of the city, state and
nation, as well as by the sale of nominations; its
great army of workers made up of its own sub-
Ordinates and the public officials: these vast ele-
ments of power have made Tammany Hall almost
as irresistible as it has been audacious, greedy and
aggressive. It only needed the authority to say
who should be members of the primaries, and, as
a result, who should be allowed to vote for dele-
gates and nominations, in order to make such
an organization absolutely despotic. That final
step was not difficult. With resources so unlim-
ited, within the partisan circles, it was easy to
dictate the terms upon which the new generations
should enter them. It was not long after 1834
before such authority was acquired. The pri-
mary organizations in the smallest districts were
changed into partisan (Tammany) clubs, with a
continuing membership and strict tests for admis-
sion. Neither long adhesion to the party, nor
sincere devotion to its principles, would secure
admission to the local primary. Every applicant
must secure the vote or consent of a majority of
the old members after his election, before he would
be admitted. If elected, he must come under two
s
PRIMARY ELECTIONS.
347
pledges: 1, to obey all orders of the general com-
mittee, and 2, to support all regular nominations,
before his membership would be complete. The
members of these primaries were the only recog-
nized members of the party, and hence the only
persons eligible to any office or able to participate
in any action or honors of the party. Whoever
attempted, even in the most obscure district of
the city, to bring forward any candidate not ap-
proved by the great central mercenary authority,
at Once felt the crushing weight of this powerful,
all-pervading, despotic primary system. How
hostile such a system is to all free and noble aspi-
ration, to all exposure of abuses, and to all dis-
interested effort in politics, and how naturally
and rapidly official degradation followed from
Such a system, need not be pointed out. It is
plain enough, too, that such a system would never
give a true representation of the people, especially
of the more patriotic and self-respecting portion
of them. — The republicans not only found this
primary system complete, but, early, there came
into their ranks thousands of politicians familiar
with its enforcement, and greedy for its spoils.
The time and manner of its reproduction in the
republican party we need not recount. It is
enough that, not long after the war, assessments,
nominations made for a price, officials converted
into partisan henchmen, the old democratic prima-
ry methods, an aristocratic secret central commit-
tee, and servile pledges of support and obedience
at the gates of the primaries, were all a part of
the machinery of the new party. No one could
become a member of a primary unless clected by
a majority of the old members. No one not a
member, however true and worthy a republican
or noble a citizen, had any vote for a delegate,
any chance for an office, any recognition by the
party leaders. The smaller the membership of
the primaries, the more easily they were manipu-
lated by the chieftains and bosses, and the more
certainly the henchmen could outvote the more
independent members. At no time did that mem-
bership exceed in number a fourth of the city
voters of the party, and for several years it has
hardly been one-sixth. All nominations and all
platforms, save when the independent unite in
rebellion, are made by the delegates of these pri-
maries. The pledges and servility required for
getting into a primary have excluded the more
independent and conscientious voters. There is
nothing in the republican primaries corresponding
to the original primary meetings of New England,
in which every adherent of the party was pre-
Sumptively a member. Hence there is, even in
theory, no real representation of the party, but
Only a confederation of selfish, partisan clubs,
under the name of primaries and the pretense of
representation. The organization of the twenty-
four republican primaries of the city is as com-
plicated, and the access to mgmbership is as diffi-
cult, as that of any private club. The name of
the applicant must be posted on a bulletin, and
there stand until the next monthly meeting, before
class of citizens.
it can even go to the committee on admissions.
If favorably reported, it must yet gain a majority
of those present at a monthly meeting of the
primary; a result quite problematical if the pliant
Obedience of the candidate is not made clear, or
if he is not a member of the faction or the fol-
lower of the boss domineer in his primary; and
his application must be to the primary of his dis-
trict. If he secures a majority, he must yet not
only take in substance the old Tammany pledge,
“to obey all orders of the general committee,”
(whose action is Secret), and “to support all nom-
inations approved by that committee,” but he must
also bind himself not to join any organization
which does not recognize the authority of the
primary association he seeks to join! This is, of
course, intended to prevent all movements for
reform. If elected, he may at any time be ex-
pelled by a majority of the members at any meet-
ing of the association, if he is held to have violated
any of those pledges. After an expulsion, he can
get back only by a vote of the primary. Such is
the liberty of a member. — The growth of these
evils has long been apparent. The servile con-
ditions of membership have repelled the better
A large part of the money
gained by assessment and the sale of nominations.
has found its way into the pockets of the hench-
men and schemers, by whom, generally, the pri-
maries have been controlled. From the same
fund venal demagogues and mercenary journals.
have secured liberal pay for doing the dirty work
of politics. An unscrupulous, greedy genera-
tion of partisans has made a profitable frade of
party management, and has obtained the control
of the city primaries. These classes have brought
the party management under a low morality and
poor ability, in the same degree that they have
disgusted and alienated its worthy members.
Such causes have greatly increased the indefensi-
ble inclination of many citizens to stand aloof
from politics. –It is in such associations, and
through the votes of members thus deprived of
half their manhood and all their independence,
that the delegates of the republican party are
selected, by whom the seats of its conventions
are filled, the declarations of its principles are
framed, and the nominations of its great officers
are made. Nowhere else in the state is the pri-
mary system so arbitrary as in the city of New
York, but much of its theory is enforced in all
the municipalities, and its spirit is felt even in the
towns. It is such a system in New York, and
hardly less in Philadelphia, which has made pos-
sible the servility in conventions, the feudal des-
potism of party leaders, the shameless forgeries.
for carrying nominations, and the open warfare
of factions, by which the better citizens are dis-
gusted, politics are degraded, and great parties.
have been enfeebled, demoralized and corrupted.
In a letter dated August, 1871, the present gov-
ernor, Mr. Cornell, then chairman of the repub-
lican state committee of New York, after saying
that “the interests of the party could not be in-
348
PRIMARY ELECTIONS.
trusted to the republican primaries, and that their
rolls contain fictitious names,” declares that “when
the delegates to the general committee of 1871
were elected, a very large portion of the true re-
publicans ºn every district declined to take part in
Such election, on account of the frauds and vio-
lence and the facts hereinbefore set forth "; and
that “many of the presidents of the republican
associations were in the direct employment of the
city officials. * * Members of the general com.
mittee have since acknowledged that they were
paid large sums of money to vote in accordance
with the dictates of the Tammany officials. * *
As might be expected, the elections of delegates to
conventions ºn nearly all of the districts were mere
Jarces.”—There has been but very inadequate im-
provement since. George Bliss, district attorney
under President Grant, in a letter to President
Arthur, dated November, 1879, says: “The rolls
are deceptive; in one district half the names of
those On the rolls are not known in the district.
These bogus names afford a convenient means for
fraudulent voting. The rolls of many of the dis-
tricts are full of the names of men not republic-
ans, and are used by the managers to perpetuate
their control of the associations. On the other
hand, desirable members, good republicans, who
have an absolute right to become members, are
excluded. Sometimes this is done by a direct re-
jection, but oftener by a refusal to vote upon the
names presented. * * At elections they are or
are not members, according as they are or are not
prepared to vote a ticket satisfactory to the con-
trolling powers. So notorious is it that elections
in the associations are not fairly conducted, that
contests are of rare occurrence.” He says, “a
reform of the primary system must be made,” or
the republican party of the state “must and will
be swept out of existence.” There has hardly
been any change in New York for the better since
1879, if indeed her primaries have not become
more mercenary and proscriptive. Such are the
reasons which have made the question of primary
elections in the leading states, and must, not long
hence, make them in other states, a subject of
great peril and difficulty. — As the fate of elec-
tions and the general welfare is plainly involved
in this primary action, there can be no more ques-
tion of the sound policy of extending the laws
over it than there is as to the expediency of reg-
istering voters or educating the poor. The real
question is, how to do it effectively. — 1. It is
plain, that, in the voting for members of the pri-
maries, in their proceedings as organized bodies,
in the methods of selecting delegates, and in the
discharge of duties of the delegates, there is every
opportunity for injustice, fraud and corruption
that there is in the formal elections of officers, or
in the discharge of their duties. The New York
state convention, for example, has just been dis-
graced by flagrant cases of forgery which have
affected, if they have not decided, the nomination
of a governor. No New York statute covers such
cases, though that of Ohio probably would. It
is plain enough, therefore, that the provisions, in
principle if not in detail, which punish cheating,
falsehood and violence at the final election, should
be extended to the primary elections also. A com-
mittee of the legislature of New York reported,
last winter, that the fraudulent practices at the
primary elections now unpunished can be pre-
vented from soon extending to the official elec-
tions, only by legal prohibitions. More stringent
legislation on it is essential. The two Pennsyl-
vania laws enacted upon this subject in 1881, go
far beyond the New York statutes of the same
year, and are examples of legislation which well
illustrate the better spirit which is becoming po-
tential in both states. – 2. Recognizing the pos-
sibility that a disciplined band of politicians may
gain too much power in the primaries, whatever
legal safeguards may be thrown around them,
other bills offered on the subject, and especially
in New York, have gone further than mere penal
provisions, by providing for a direct vote of the
people in the primaries for the candidates for elec-
tion, instead of for delegates to make nomina-
tions. The primary elections are thus practically
converted into a first vote for Officers; the sec-
ond vote being the elections themselves, at which,
however, only those can be voted for who have
received the highest vote of the party at the first
election. On this theory, strictly applied, dele-
gates and conventions are made unnecessary, but,
in some forms of its proposed application, dele-
gates for specific purposes are to be voted for at
the time of the first vote. There are also provis-
ions in some of the bills allowing a given num-
ber of citizens to put forward a candidate, at the
first election, they being in the sense of the law
“a party,’” though not in the popular sense of the
word. Their candidate, having the majority of
their votes, could therefore be among the highest
eligible to be voted for at the second or final elec-
tion. Much as that device might at first curtail
the present power of the primary despots, it is
plain that their vicious nominating machinery
could be put in force to forestall the first election
by making nominations therefor. Without ade-
quate provisions for making a fictitious legal
party as aforesaid, it is plain that the rule of Con-
fining the final vote to the party candidates hav-
ing the most votes, would greatly increase parti-
san tyranny and monopoly. It would make par-
tisan tests more mischievous and controlling than
they now are in municipal elections. As both
elections, on this theory, are made legal and pub-
lic proceedings, the expenses of both alike are
to be paid from the public treasury. It can not,
therefore, be doubted that the legitimate expenses
of elections would be considerably increased;
though, if the sums gained by assessments and
the sale of nominations are added, it is very like-
ly the expenses of the new methods would be
less. This experiment of double voting appears
to have been tried with some benefit in Rich-
mond, Virginia. The need of bringing the action
of the primaries under legal provisions is so plain
PRIMARY ELECTIONs.
349
and imperative, the subject is so complicated,
difficult and new to legislation, that the expedi-
ency of attaching to it new and doubtful methods
of elections is at least very questionable. It may
cause great delay.—3. Other legislation and further
remedial measures are needed for the purification
of the primary system. We must by penal statutes
Suppress the raising of money by assessments and
the Sale of nominations. So long as partisan man-
agers are allowed to gain by such means abundant
money for filling their own pockets and those of
their camp followers, for bribing the press, and
for compensating demagogue oratory, they will be
stimulated to a pernicious and almost irresistible ac-
tivity. The unnatural spectacle will continue, of
the lowest class of partisans, having the least stake
in the welfare of the country, being the most active
in politics and the most influential in the elec-
tions. Why should we expect any other result as
long as that corruption fund can be divided among
them by their own vote or the order of their chief-
tains? What is it but partisan despotism award-
ing the prizes for political corruption and servil-
ity? — 4. We must also, as an essential condition
of honest primary elections, take from the great
politicians and the elected officers their corrupt
patronage, by reason of which, through threats
of removal, they make the public officials their
servants, and through actual removals they make
places and spoils for their followers, who do
the basest work of the elections. (See PATRON-
AGE.) The reform of the primaries is largely de-
pendent upon the reform of the civil service. So
long as we allow such opportunities of prostitu-
tion and corruption to be the prizes of elections,
we have no right to expect them to be pure, and
no reason for surprise that honest voters are dis-
couraged and the baser elements so often triumph.
If the better classes would elect their candidates,
they must use their own money to pay expenses,
and must forego the use of places for rewarding
their mercenary supporters. The existing system
allows the public treasury to be indirectly plun-
dered, and the public service to be directly prosti-
tuted, by the politician class for their own ends;
and when that system is arraigned, those who live
upon its spoils declare that the abuses at the
primary are caused by the neglect of the honest
and independent voters to attend. In the very
outset of their resistance, such voters must take
money from their own pockets to match the tens
of thousands which machine politicians plunder
from the public servants, for campaign expenses.
Let both classes alike be compelled to appeal to
the voluntary contributions of the voters. When
corrupt patronageshall be suppressed by filling the
subordinate places through competitive examina-
tions, and assessments and the sale of nominations
shall be made penal, so that all classes alike must
tax themselves for the election of their candidates,
we shall no longer see the most mercenary and
patriotic citizen the most active at the elections.
Take from the vulgar lords of the primaries in
New York or any other great city, the money they
York.
gain by extortion and the patronage they dispense
by favor; force them thus to organize and to vote,
like good citizens, on the basis of principle and
duty, and the feverish, mercenary activity of those
leaders will cease. The most intelligent and pa-
triotic classes will be not only the most active but
the most potentialin our politics. – 5. The abuses
of the primary system are as intimately connected
with the sums which candidates pay, if not direct-
ly as a bribe for a nomination, yet indirectly by rea-
son of its having been made, as they are with the
moneys extorted through political assessments.
A citizen of New York has, in the pending can-
vass, publicly refused to be a candidate, because
the nomination was tendered on the condition of .
a money payment. The funds secretly gained by
either means are secretly expended without legal
responsibility, and often in ways utterly corrupt.
In England, the laws have for some years re-
quired a public statement and official audit of
election expenses; and these safeguards, together
with her office-brokerage laws, have been a con-
siderable check upon the corrupt use of money
for influencing elections. These statutes are
worthy our study. — It might also be found an
improvement if the voting papers were furnished,
and portions, at least, of the legitimate expenses
of the elections were, after proper audit, paid
from the public treasury. Such payments would
remove various excuses for assessment extortion,
and the sale of nominations; and, while taking an
unjust advantage from candidates who can com-
mand money, would make it easier for worthy
and scrupulous citizens of limited means, to stand
as candidates. – It would be altogether reason-
able, and it would not be difficult, to compel every
candidate for an elective Office to file a statement,
for public inspection, which should clearly set
forth all money he had paid or become responsi-
ble for, directly or indirectly, by reason of his
nomination or toward the expenses of his election;
and he might also be made subject to a properly
guarded examination before a judge upon the
whole subject. The British government gave this
theory of opening official doings to public inspec-
tion a very radical application nearly a century ago.
(See 24 George III., chap. 25, sec. 55, and Eaton
on “Civil Service in Great Britain,” p. 140.)
And an application somewhat analogous has been
made in the laws applicable to the city of New
(Laws of New York, 1873, chap. 335, sec.
109.)—The purification of the primaries in great
cities would be much facilitated by increasing the
length of terms and by reducing the number of
elective officers. The great number of candidates
for election confuses and disgusts the voters in
much the same degree that it makes the business
of caucus management intricate, active and profit-
able. The election of such officers as constables,
county clerks, secretaries, justices and judges,
whose functions are in no sense representative,
and who were appointed until the spoils system
had become established, is indefensible upon any
sound principles. The changes that made them
350
elective were naturally desired by all those inter-
ested in the patronage of party chieftains or gains
of primary elections. The honest voters, alarmed
at the abuses of the appointing power, too readily
consented to the change, in the hope that it would
be an improvement. But for the abuse of that
power, such officers would never have been made
elective. With a true reform they will again be
made appointive. (See REMOVALS.) Here, again,
we see the close connection between the reform of
the civil service and the reform of the primary
system. To make the reappointment of such offi-
cers safe and satisfactory, we must reform the
civil service. To relieve the primary system of the
demoralizing duty of selecting officers in no sense
representative, and only ministerial and adminis-
trative, we must make such officers again ap-
pointive. DORMAN B. EATON.
PRIORITY OF DEBTS DUE TO THE
UNITED STATES AND TO THE STATES.
In the first decade of its existence under the Con-
stitution, congress passed several laws giving pri-
ority to debts due to the United States. As early
as July 31, 1789, it was enacted, that the claims of
the national government upon bonds given by im-
porters for the payment of duties should have
precedence over all other obligations. (U. S.
Statutes, 1789, chap. 5, § 21.) Subsequent reve-
nue acts contained similar provisions. (U. S.
Statutes, 1790, chap. 35, $45; Ib., 1792, chap. 27,
§ 18; and Ib., 1799, chap. 22, § 65.) On May 3,
1797, a bill became law which regulated in detail
the settlement of accounts between the government
and revenue officers. (U. S. Statutes, 1797, chap.
20.) It contained a section (§ 5) which gave
preference to debts due to the United States in all
Cases whatsoever, whether “a revenue officer or
other person’’ was the debtor, and however he
might have become indebted, if only the debtor
became insolvent, or if his estate after lais death
was insufficient to pay his creditors. This sweep-
ing clause, curiously inserted in a bill of limited
scope, still remains in force; and in all cases of
insolvency or insufficient assets in the hands of
executors or administrators, debts due to the
United States are first satisfied. —”. It is easy to
ascertain why congress gave priority to the claims
of the government. These statutes were framed
for the purpose of building up our system of cus-
toms, and preference was given the debts of the
government simply to increase the revenue and
make it more certain. The heavy national debt
which the confederation had left behind it made
such a course especially desirable. The section
which extended this preference to all debts passed
as a part of the revenue laws. These statutes
neither recognize nor adopt any traditional pre-
rogative. They rest the right of priority, not on
the dignity, but on the need, of the government.
In 1805 the supreme court at Washington held
that the constitutional right of congress “to pay
the debts of the United States,” (Constitution,
art. 1, § 8), and “to make all laws which shall be
citizens.
PRIORITY OF DEBTs DUE TO THE UNITED STATES, ETC.
necessary and proper for carrying into execution
the foregoing powers,” (Ib. ), included the right
to make laws preferring debts due to the govern-
ment. (Fisher vs. Blight, 2 Cranch, 358.) Our
highest tribunal thus bases this priority on the
power of congress to use whatever means it con-
siders eligible to raise revenue for the purpose of
paying the debts of the nation. No legal objec-
tion to the preference of debts due to the national
government could be made on the ground that it
interferes with the rights of individual states, be-
cause the constitution, and the laws of the United
States made under it, are the supreme law of the
land. (Constitution, art. 6.) The insolvency of
the debtor which gives preference to the United
States under the act of 1797, must be legal in-
solvency, manifested by some notorious act.
Mere inability on the part of the debtor to pay
his debts is not enough, unless it is accompanied
by a voluntary assignment of all his property
for the benefit of creditors. The courts usually
construe the act strictly, and do not allow the
right of priority unless it is clearly established. —
Would this right of preference have existed in-
dependent of statute? Our national and state
governments are the successors of the British
crown, and, as such, they acquired those prerog-
atives of the crown which are adapted to the
changed condition of things in this country.
This right of preference is a royal prerogative in
England. Where the king's right and that of a
subject meet at one and the same time, the king's
is preferred. (8 Bacon’s Abridgment, Preroga-
tive E. 4, p. 91.) In a case which was several
times argued in the court of common pleas dur-
ing the reign of Elizabeth (Skrogs vs. Gresham,
Anderson, 129, case 176), Lord Chief Justice An-
derson decided that the queen should be preferred
in the payment of debts before any subject, partly
because of the requirements of magma charta, and
for various other “self-evident reasons,” (et per
divers auters reasons queur jeo omit pur ceo "que
Sont evidents). These reasons are not as evident
to-day as they were then, and it is a pity that the
learned chief justice did not give them at length.
— Did the United States and the states them-
selves inherit the right of priority from the crown?
Our courts have divided on this question. As the
state and nation are equally sovereign in their own
spheres, the arguments which apply to one apply
also to the other. The supreme court of the
United States has distinctly held that the national
government had no right to prior payment before
the acts were passed. (1815, United States vs.
Bryan, 9 Cranch, 387.) In South Carolina the
state has no right of priority. The court there
holds that the state has not succeeded to all the
prerogatives of the crown. A monarchy is a
government for the benefit of the king, while a
republic is a government for the protection of the
The state, therefore, has no privileges
but such as are granted by its constitution, or
by act of the legislature, or such as are neces-
sary to the proper administration of the govern-
PRISONERS OF WAR.
351
ment. (State vs. Harris, 2 Bailey, 599.) In Mary-
land, on the other hand, preference is given to
debts due to the state. Its court recognizes the
right as a common law prerogative of the gov-
ernment. (State vs. Bank of Maryland, 6 Gill and
Johnson, 205.) In most of the states the question
has never been settled. This is the case in New
York, but at one time the court of appeals seemed
to favor the right of priority. One of the judges,
in an opinion of the court, said that there was
great force in the suggestion that the people of
the state have succeeded to all the prerogatives of
the crown in so far as they are necessary to the
effectual exercise of the essential powers of civil
government, and that consequently taxes should
here be paid first, as they are in England. (In re
Columbian Insurance Company, 3 Abbott's Court
of Appeals Cases, 239.) — The statutes of the
states have declared and altered the law in many
cases. Taxes are usually preferred by express en-
actment, but in some cases this preference only
applies to insolvents, and in others only to bank-
rupt estates in the hands of executors or adminis-
trators. The reader must examine the statutes of
each state to ascertain the law. It is to be noted
that the right of priority existed under the Roman
law, and that it usually prevails now wherever
the civil law is followed. — See on the general
subject, 1 Kent's Commentaries, Lecture 12; see
also U. S. Revised Statutes, § 3466 et seq.
ERNEST HOWARD CROSBY.
PRISONERS OF WAR. Persons coming un-
der any of the following heads can not be regard-
ed as prisoners of war, namely: those who are
connected with the service of the army, but who
do not form part of the combatants; innocent
subjects of the enemy who have not taken part
in the hostilities; soldiers who have committed.
acts of violence without orders from their com-
manders; those who have spontaneously, without
order from the state, armed themselves against
the enemy; spies, deserters and fugitives. These
classes do not include surgeons, chaplains and
Sutlers, quartermasters, drummers and fifers; they
form part of the combatants, and are considered
as belonging to the active army; they are likened
to soldiers, and classified as prisoners of war.
(In pursuance of the convention agreed upon Aug.
22, 1864, between nearly all the countries of Eu-
rope, and completed in 1868 by additional articles,
all medical persons, and even the wounded in
ambulances, as well as chaplains and nurses, are
considered as non-combatants. In the war of
1870–71 complaints were made on both sides of
infractions of these treaties, but we do not believe
that these infractions were voluntary, even sup-
posing that the complaints were well founded.
M. B.) — “Even in the best days of pagan anti-
quity, the laws of war, from which the law of
conquest was derived, said, with inflexible sever-
ity: “For the possessions of the enemy, confisca-
tion and pillage ; for the person of the enemy,
slavery or death.’ But, under the influence of
Christian principles, customs have become modi-
fied. The laws which our fathers, after having
conquered the Roman empire, made in fire, in ac-
tion, in impetuosity, in the pride of victory, they
softened; these laws were harsh, they made them
impartial. The Burgundians, the Goths and the
Lombards always desired that the Romans should
remain a conquered people ; the laws of Euric,
of Gondebaud and of Rotharis made the Romans
and barbarians fellow-citizens.” (Montesquieu,
Esprit des lois, book x., chap. 3.)—To slay an en-
emy after the battle, or to reduce him to slavery,
is no longer permitted by international law; to
make him lay down his arms, and to hold him as
prisoner of war until the re-establishment of peace
(unless a free retreat be granted him, either at once
or at a stated time), are what the laws of mod-
ern warfare prescribe. — The effects of captivity
date from the moment of surrender. The prison-
ers are then placed in the interior of the country
under the surveillance and authority of the con-
queror, and restored to liberty either uncondition-
ally or on bail, or for a ransom, or in exchange. —
The decree of May 25, 1793, breathing the spirit
of human dignity, declares that no person taken
from the enemy shall be forced to serve in the
army of the state which has taken him. — The
law of June 20, 1792, places prisoners of war, in
France, under the safeguard of the nation, and
orders that they shall be protected, the same as
French citizens, against all insult or outrage.
This law contains also other orders full of human-
ity. — A decree of April 4, 1811, says: Any pris-
oner of war, having the rank of an officer, and
any hostage, who, after having given his parol,
violates it, shall, if recaptured, be regarded and
treated like a soldier, as to pay and rations, and
confined in a citadel, fort or castle. — The rules
relating to the exchange of prisoners have been
established by several legislative provisions. Un-
til very recently, it was customary to agree as to
the exchange and the pecuniary ransom according
to rank, at the same time, in Order to settle the
account in case of an inequality in the number or
rank of the prisoners. We find an example of
this in the cartel of March 12, 1780, between
France and England. But France set aside all
ransom during the war of the revolution, by de-
creeing, May 25, 1793, that only an exchange of
man for man and rank for rank should be allowed.
(See ExCIIANGE of PRISONERs.) — We see that
legislation with regard to prisoners of war in Eu-
rope is founded upon generous Sentiments. If
the fatal laws of war permit a belligerent power to
make prisonçrs and to hold them, whether to pre-
vent them from again bearing arms or to weaken
the enemy, or even to lead them to accept equitable
conditions of peace, they do not permit violence
or ill-treatment toward them so long as they do
not disturb the quiet of the state. It is also cus-
tomary to allow a greater degree of liberty to
higher officers than to non-commissioned officers
and soldiers. They are, as a general rule, placed
upon honor (parol) in a certain town, and it is not
352
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
unusual to see them sent back to their own coun-
try upon the promise of paying a ransom, and
virtually under engagement not to bear arms
against the government which has restored them
to liberty. — The victorious state can not, how-
ever, be disarmed against prisoners of war and
their breach of parol. Thus, besides the pen-
alty which we have cited above in the decree
of April 4, 1811, to punish violations of sworn
faith, it was necessary to provide for cases in
which prisoners of war, taking advantage of
their number, might Organize a resistance against
lawful authority. This was done by the decree
of the 17th of frimaire, year XIV., which orders
as follows: “All mutiny, resistance to the police
or the national guard, all plots of which pris-
oners of war may be guilty, shall be punished by
death.” — Outside of this, the life of a prison-
er of war is sacred, inviolable, according to law.
The distinction is easily understood. In the lat-
ter case, there is no longer any question of the
application of the laws of war, but of the defense
of society and the repression of a crime under
the principles of common law. Publicists, how-
ever, have propounded this question : “Are there
cases in which the care of one's own safety, and
the danger to be incurred, will not permit us either
to make prisoners Or to retain those whom we have
already made?” This question recalls a frightful
episode of the French-Egyptian campaign. The
French army had just taken Jaffa and sacked
it during thirty hours of pillage and massacre.
There remained several thousand prisoners who
could not be kept for want of food, nor yet sent
back to swell the ranks of the enemy. The un-
fortunate wretches stood on the shore with their
hands tied behind them, waiting for their doom
to be pronounced. “Bonaparte,” says M. Thiers
(Histoire de la Révolution, vol. viii., p. 401), “de-
termined on a terrible measure, the only cruel act
of his life. Transported to a barbarous country,
he had involuntarily adopted the customs (mor-
als?) of it; he caused the remaining prisoners to be
put to death. The army, appalled but obedient,
completed the execution with which it had been
charged.” “Who shall answer to posterity for
so horrible an act? Those who commanded it,”
adds M. Dalley (“Natural and International Law,”
No. 123), “unless they tried every means, even
in face of the encray, to prevent it. For the prin-
ciple is self-evident, that war, even the most just,
can legalize only such injury to the enemy as is
absolutely necessary.”— Can a monarch and his
family be made prisoners of war? International
law has decided in the affirmative. Nevertheless,
it has long been customary among the civilized
powers of Europe, first, to consider it as contrary
to the laws of war to take aim at a hostile sover-
eign or prince of the blood royal; secondly, to
treat his family with distinction by exempting
them from detention; thirdly, to alleviate for the
hostile sovereign personally, or for his family, the
evils of war, in all respects which would not af-
fect the result of military operations. (It seems
to us that there should be no question as to declar-
ing women and children and non-combatants
prisoners of war, even in the case of queens and
princesses. Nevertheless, if a queen regnant
should command an army, she would be justly
considered a combatant. M. B.)— On the prin-
ciple that war alone can make prisoners, as cause
produces effect, it follows that any act by which
the subject of a nation should be declared prisoner
of war, even though he had not taken an active
part in the hostilities, can be regarded only as a
violent measure, in opposition to all the principles
of civilization. Such is the provision of the de-
cree of Berlin (Nov. 21, 1806), stating that any
English individual in the countries occupied by
France or its allies, is declared a prisoner of war.
Such a principle, poorly veiled under the pretense
of reprisal, demonstrates how far contempt of in-
ternational law may carry a conqueror irritated
by seeing limits put to his ambition. This sad
example is happily the only one presented to us
by modern history. (It is proper to say, that since
the war of 1870 the Germans have been driven
away, even when a long time settled, and that any
of them found upon the territory would have been
made prisoners.) PAIGNON.
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
The extirpation of crime is the highest aim pos-
sible in a penal code. Since to extirpate crime is
practically impossible, all existing penal systems
content themselves with an effort to repress crime.
Crimes are committed by men: therefore they can
be repressed or prevented only by the exercise of
some restraining influence or power upon the men
who commit them. Men are influenced by mo-
tives. Their action is the outgrowth of their per-
sonal character and experience, which produce in
them a greater or less susceptibility to hope, fear,
and the sense of moral obligation, and lead them
to say, as the case may be, I Ought, I must, or, I
will. The efficiency of every actual or proposed
system for the repression of crime may, therefore,
be measured by the knowledge of human nature
and the harmony with its fundamental laws dis-
played in the elaboration of the code. In every
good code there is a distinct purpose, and the
means employed are wisely adapted to secure the
end sought. — Crime may be repressed in either
of two ways, namely, by physical or by moral
agencies. – The highest form of forcible repres-
sion is execution, or the death penalty, called
capital punishment, because it stands at the head
of the list of possible punishments, so that all
other punishments are said to be secondary.
Capital punishment has been inflicted in many
ways, by different nations, and at different
stages of their development, among which may
be named decapitation, Strangulation, burning,
breaking upon the wheel, stoning, crucifixion,
burying alive, drowning, poison, starvation, shoot-
ing, driving a stake through the body, disembow-
eling and quartering. Most of these punishments
are obsolete. The more usual modes of execu-
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
353
tion in modern times are by means of the gallows
and the guillotine, except for military offenders,
who are commonly shot to death. Electricity
has been suggested as an instantaneous and pain-
less mode of inflicting the death penalty, and
an apparatus for its application devised, but not
adopted. It is so obvious that a dead man can
never again commit crime, that the killing of the
offender appears to be the form in which the first
rude conception of justice naturally presents itself
to the Savage mind. It is the usual form in which
punishment is inflicted by a mob. But with the
advance of civilization, we may trace the gradual
disappearance of the stain of blood from the codes
of Christendom. Sentence of death, which was
formerly pronounced against a long list of crimes,
is now reserved, for the most part, for actual mur-
derers. The law even of homicide has been so
modified, by the introduction into it of subtle
distinctions, as to relieve from execution the ma-
jority of those accused of imbruing their hands
in the blood of a fellow-creature, by the substitu-
tion of imprisonment for the gallows. It can not
be denied that the tendency of modern thought
is in the direction of the total abolition of the
death penalty. The arguments urged against it
are: that it is unnecessary; that it is useless, since
men are not in fact deterred from the commission
of crimes through fear of death; that it is unjus-
tifiable, since society has no more right to take
human life than has an individual; that it is un-
scientific, because it does not admit of degrees in
its application, according to the degree of culpa-
bility of the offender; that it is irrevocable, which
no human punishment, in view of the possibility
of a mistaken verdict, should ever be; that it ex-
erts a demoralizing influence upon the spectators
and upon the public at large, by exciting the
worst passions of human nature, by awakening
popular sympathy for the victim, and by render-
ing punishment uncertain, in consequence of the
reluctance of juries to assume the responsibility
for a capital sentence; and finally, that if the soul
is immortal, the consequences of capital punish-
ment may be eternal, for it terminates abruptly the
Supposed or real culprit’s chance of repentance
and reformation. The apologists of the death
penalty, on the other hand, appeal to the authority
of the ancient law recorded in the book of Gen-
esis, in the sacred Scriptures, “Whoso sheddeth
man's blood, by man shall his blood he shed ”;
they insist that retribution is a natural instinct;
a philosophic principle, a divine command; they
urge that Society has the same right to protect
itself, which is conceded to individuals, that in
face of extreme perils, extreme measures of safety
are lawful, and that the fear of death has more
power to deter a criminal from yielding to his
Criminal impulses than any other known motive;
they also point out that there is a natural passion-
ate reaction, on the part of communities, against
flagitious offenders, which, if it does not take the
form of duly authorized legal process, will find
an outlet in mob law, against which it is the duty
142 VOL. III. — 23
of human governments to protect individuals and
the public. The universality of capital punish-
ment is in its favor; opposed to it is the fact, that,
with the gradual amelioration of the severity of
punishments, punishment has become more cer-
tain, and crime has diminished in volume and
intensity. It is evident that the question can be
settled only by experience of the practical results
of the gradual disuse of this extreme penalty.
Executions, in the United States, are almost
wholly private. — A second form of forcible re-
pression is transportation; or the establishment of
penal colonies, remote from the mother country, to
which criminals are removed. England, Russia
and France have resorted to this mode of punish-
ment; but England has abandoned it, and even
in Russia the system appears to be doomed to
speedy extinction. The history of English trans-
portation is a veritable romance. Little more than
a century after the landing of Columbus, the Eng-
lish government began to ship convicts to the
wilds of North America. From the year 1718,
all offenders sentenced for a term of not less than
three years were liable to be transported to Amer-
ica. Convicts were delivered by the courts to
masters of vessels as merchandise, which they were
at liberty to dispose of to the planters of Virginia,
Maryland, Jamaica and the Barbadoes. Not in-
frequently those who were rich enough bribed
the masters to let them go, at landing, and so set
the law at defiance. But with the achievement of
American independence, this practice of necessity
came to an end. The result was, that by the year
1787 the number of prisoners in the hulks on the
river Thames amounted to more than 15,000, for
whom the government was discussing the pro-
priety and necessity of building prisons. Profit-
ing by the preoccupation of Europe with the
events which preceded the French revolution,
England had, however, taken possession of the
newly discovered continent of Australia, of which
the famous navigator, Captain Cook, had given
the most glowing description; and accordingly
New South Wales was determined upon as the
site of a penal colony. On Jan. 18, 1788, after a
voyage lasting eight months, 850 convicts, men
and women, landed on the east coast of Australia,
where the city of Sydney now stands. Thus was
laid the foundation of a new empire, the his-
tory of whose early struggles and rapid develop-
ment constitutes one of the most interesting chap-
ters in the history of the world. A few years
later, a second colony was established in Van
Dieman’s Land, an island south of Australia, now
known as Tasmania. It was the policy of the
government to encourage free emigration to these
colonies by grants of land, which were also made
to convicts who had served their time and were
called emancipists. Subsequently the governor
of the colony was empowered to assign convicts
to landholders or other free colonists, Something
after the manner in which prisoners are leased to
private persons in the southern states of the Amer-
ican Union. This practice led to the formation of
354
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
chain gangs and road parties. The worst convicts
were sent to penal settlements, of which there
were three; that on Norfolk island, which is of
volcanic origin and about 900 miles east of Aus-
tralia, has become famous in the history of prison
discipline through the labors of Capt. Maconochie,
who, from 1840 to 1844, was governor of the island,
where he introduced the mark system, of which he
was the inventor. Transportation was opposed
by John Howard, at the outset, but in vain.
Twenty years after Howard's death, Romilly and
Bentham renewed the attack upon it. But it
may be said to have received its death-blow, when
Richard Whately, archbishop of Dublin, wrote
two letters to Earl Grey, in which he characterized
it as “a system begun in defiance of all reason,
and continued in spite of all experience.” In 1837
a parliamentary commission on transportation was
formed, of which Sir William Molesworth was
chairman, and Robert Peel and Sir John Russell
were members, which reported in favor of its
abolition, on the ground of its excessive cost, the
injustice to the colonies involved in its mainte-
nance, and its effect in increasing crime. This
Committee pointed out, that, as a punishment,
transportation is unequal, because of the extreme
variations in the personal fortunes of the expa-
triated, and because it is the occasion of the se-
verest pain to the better class of convicts, while
habitual and hardened offenders feel it the least.
Its deterrent influence was said to be very slight,
while upon some minds the prospect of emigration
at the expense of the public operates as an in-
ducement to commit crime. Transportation to
New South Wales ceased in 1840, and to Wan
Dieman's Land in 1848. The colony in West
Australia, established in 1829, still remained, but
the number of convicts sent to it was small.
From the year 1847 the principle of probationary
punishment in the mother country, prior to trans-
portation, was incorporated in the English crim-
inal code. In 1853 parliament passed an act au-
thorizing penal servitude at home as a substitute
for transportation. By the act of 1857 trans-
portation was formally abolished, but under the
name of penal servitude it in fact continued until
1867, when the last cargo of convicts was sent to
West Australia. During the latter years of its
continuance the character of the system under-
went a complete transformation. It became a
reward for good conduct on the part of prisoners
during their incarceration. Its final abolition was
not so much the voluntary act of the English gov-
Crnment, as it was a necessity arising from the
vigorous protest against it by the inhabitants of
South Australia. — The transportation of Rus-
sian criminals to Siberia dates from the year 1710,
in the reign of Peter the Great. — France has
made two experiments in this direction. The
first, in Guiana, is admitted to have been a fail-
ure; but it is contended that the penal colony of
New Caledonia is a valuable addition to the re-
Sources of the French penal system. — The ques-
tion of transportation, as an alternative for im-
prisonment, has a certain limited interest for
Americans, Owing to the occasional appearance
in the newspapers of articles suggesting the pro-
priety of converting Alaska into a penal colony
for the United States. But apart from the objec-
tions arising from the location and climate of
Alaska, the realization of Such a scheme as this
would involve a revolution in the entire system of
prisons throughout the Union, and the assumption
of the task of repressing crime by the national
government, instead of leaving it to be dealt
with by the several states. De Tocqueville has
said, in substance, that a nation which does not
know what to do with its criminals at home,
ships them beyond seas, which is a polite way of
saying that nations, like individuals, are selfish,
and seek to make Others bear the burdens which
properly belong to themselves. The question has
three branches, namely, the effect of transporta-
tion upon the criminal himself, upon the colony
to which he is sent, and upon the home country.
It is not easy to defend the system upon either of
these grounds. Transportation has in itself no
reformatory influence; it relieves the home coun-
try from the presence of the criminal, but it does
not, like hanging, relieve the world; it simply
changes the scene of his exploits; and it affords
no guarantee that the exile will not return. The
supervision of criminals at a distance is difficult,
expensive and unsatisfactory. Their presence in
the colony is a constant menace and a social peril.
Under the most favorable circumstances, the sys-
tem needs to be surrounded with proper safe-
guards. In 1846 the Australians demanded of
England that as many honest emigrants should
be sent out as convicts, as many women as men,
and that the families of convicts should be al-
lowed to accompany them. — The third and only
other possible form of forcible repression is im-
prisonment, by which culprits are removed from
society, though not to another world, nor even
to another country. Reduced to its lowest term,
the fundamental idea of the prison is that of for-
cible seclusion from the outside world. Society
ejects the prisoner, with no higher motive than
that of self-protection. According to this view,
the prison is a substitute for execution and for
transportation, but nothing more. — In the history
of the development of the prison it is easy to trace
a certain logical and necessary sequence, corre-
sponding to the order of thought upon this Sub-
ject. In ancient history small mention is made
of prisons, and what little is said about them
leads to the inference that their principal use was
as temporary abodes, for safe-keeping, of Offend-
ers awaiting execution, although there is abun-
dant evidence that prisoners were often released,
probably by an act of executive clemency on the
part of the ruler, and sometimes they were for
years forgotten, as was the case with Joseph, in
Egypt. There can, however, never have been
any age in which prisons, in some form, were not
a necessity, for one purpose or for another; and
while the prison, in its present form, is a modern
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
355
invention, some of the features of our modern
system are clearly foreshadowed in the records of
the past. It is related, for instance, that in China
the young king, Tai-Kia, deaf to the monitions
of his minister, Y-in, instead of following the ex-
ample of his predecessors, gave himself up to
every species of vice.
form him; but the king would not listen. There-
upon Y-in declared: “The conduct of the king
is but a series of vices; his associations accord
with his nature. No communication must be
allowed him with evil companions. (Solitary
confinement.) I will cause to be built a palace in
Tong. There, near the ashes of his royal sire, I
will give him instructions, to the end that he may
no longer pursue a vicious life.” (Reformatory
discipline, with education as its chief feature.)
Accordingly, the king took up his solitary abode
in the palace of Tong, put on mourning (a prison
dress 2), and at length entered into the true path
of virtue. From the statement in the Chinese
work, “Shu-King,” written about 2,600 years
before the Christian era, that a considerable in-
closure of land was assigned to the inmates of a
prison, M. Beltrani-Scalia has argued that the
convicts must have been employed in cultivating
the soil. The allusions to prisons in the Bible are
numerous, but too familiar to require citation
here. It is, however, worthy of remark, that
there is no provision for imprisonment in the
Mosaic law. At one time a single prison sufficed
for the use of the Roman people, as appears from
the third satire of Juvenal:
Felices proav Uruill alawUs! ſelicia licas
Saecula! quae quondam sub regibus atque tribunis
Widerunt uno contentam carcere Romann.
This was probably the Mamertine prison, erected
by Ancius Marcius, to which a second was added
by King Tullius, which is supposed to have been
built immediately under the Mamertine. The
remains of this famous structure are still pointed
‘out to travelers, for many of whom a special in-
terest attaches to the spot, on account of the tra-
dition that the apostle Paul was confined here.
In the subsequent history of Rome, transporta-
tion was known, under the name of relegatio ad
Žnsula.m.; and penal labor was required of offend-
•ers, who were employed upon public works and in
mines and quarries. A description of the latomiſe
of Syracuse may be found in Cicero's oration
against Verres. The great thinker Plato antici-
pated the best thought of our own times, in his
book “De Legibus,” where he has expressed his
opinion in the following words: “Let there be
three prisons in the city—one for the safe-keeping
of persons awaiting trial and sentence ; another
for the amendment of disorderly persons and
vagrants, those guilty of misdemeanors, to be
called a sophronesterion (that is, a house of cor-
rection, a place for teaching wisdom and conti-
nence), which should be visited, especially at night,
by the magistrates called Sophromestoi, a third,
to be situated in the country, away from the hab-
itations of men, and to be used for the punish-
The minister tried to re-
ment of felons.” But this was an ideal not real-
ized by the ancient world, a legacy to us. – In
order to comprehend fully the evolution of exist-
ing prison systems, it is necessary to remember
that the progress of civilization has been from a
condition of slavery to one of freedom, and that
it has been characterized by the gradual substitu-
tion of the will of the community for the will of
the individual, and by legal forms instead of
summary process. Under the patriarchal and
tribal systems of social organization, the father of
the family, or the chief of the tribe, administered
justice, according to his personal conception of it,
which was often crude and barbarous enough.
He alone was free ; all the world beside were
slaves. Then followed the invention of caste, the
emancipation of one portion of the community,
the distinction made between slaves and freemen:
under this system justice was administered to the
slave by his immediate owner and master. The
ergastula of the Romans were the outgrowth of
this phase of progress—strong, well guarded
buildings, in which criminal and refractory slaves,
or slaves disposed to run away, were confined.
The feudal system came next, under which the
face of Europe was dotted with castles, which
served as prisons, as well as fortified places of res-
idence. Our word “dungeon” is a modification
of the French “donjon,” or castle-tower, in which
the feudal lord confined, at his own will, his vas-
sals or his enemies. With the disappearance of
the feudal system, this arbitrary power of im-
prisonment came to an end. The twenty-ninth
Section of magma charta provides that “no free
man shall be taken or imprisoned unless by lawful
judgment of his peers, or the law of the land.”
The liberty of the subject was further guaranteed,
in England, by the writ of habeas corpus. Under
the modern system of criminal jurisprudence,
punishment is inflicted only by order of the courts,
after judicial inquiry into the guilt or innocence
of the prisoner, and the prison itself has become
a mode of punishment, which in ancient times it
was not. — Thus we are led to consider the second
step in the evolution of the modern conception of
the prison. The power to imprison can not, in
any age, have been dissociated from the desire to
make a display of the power possessed, in order to
intimidate others. The appeal to fear always
precedes the appeal to any higher motive. From
the earliest times the greatest crucltics were per-
petrated upon prisoners. Prisons have always
been places of execution. They have often, es-
pecially in the middle ages, been places of torture.
Not only have they been constructed with refer-
ence to their adaptation to create discomfort and
terror on the part of prisoners, of which notable
examples may be found in the pozzi, or wells, in the
ducal palace of Venice, and the oubliettes, or bot-
tled-shaped pits, of which the church name was
wade in pace, into which, from deference to the
maxim Ecclesia abhorret a sang wºme, certain eccle-
siastical prisoners were thrust, to die there of star-
vation; but they have been provided with the
356
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
most elaborate and varied apparatus for the in-
fliction of physical pain. Beccaria, in Italy, whose
book on “Crimes and their Punishment” ap-
peared in 1764, was the first who impressed the
world with a doubt as to the right or the utility of
torture. The rack and the boot and the thumb-
screw have disappeared, together with such cruel
corporal punishments as mutilation, hanging by
the armpits, branding with a hot iron, etc., but
the difference between these and the scourge or
shower-bath is only in degree, not in kind, while
science has invented a new torture, in the applica-
tion of electricity to a refractory prisoner. The
experience of the world has demonstrated the
truth of the principle that punishment in itself
exercises no reformatory influence; on the con-
trary, it hardens the man upon whom it is visited,
and excites his companions in crime to reprisals.
In the war between society and the criminal class
there must be a disarmament upon both sides
before peace can be declared. —But without cor-
poral chastisement the greatest suffering may
exist in prisons, through the ignorance, neglect,
brutality and cupidity of those to whom the cus-
tody of prisoners is intrusted. Promiscuous as-
sociation of prisoners — the innocent with the
guilty, the novice in crime with the hardened vil-
lain, the young with the old—and even, in some
cases, of the two sexes; defective sanitary arrange-
ments; the absence of all attempt at cleanliness or
decency; the lack of discipline, or the failure to
exercise any restraint upon the conduct of prison-
ers to each other, varied by occasional sudden and
violent acts of interference; and the practice of
extortion by granting special privileges to prison-
ers who pay for them; these were the evils which,
little more than a century ago, aroused the world
to a sense of the necessity for a reformation of
prisons. – In order that the reader may have a
more distinct understanding of the order of events,
in the history of the prison reform movement, a
chronological table of principal events is here in-
serted, which is not, however, designed to inter-
rupt the course of the narrative. The list does
not pretend to be complete; it is only intended
1710.
1724.
1728.
1735.
1748.
1764.
1765.
1771.
1772.
1773.
1774.
1776.
1778.
1780.
1783.
1786.
1787.
1788.
1789.
1790.
1791.
1792.
1801.
1813.
1814.
1815.
1816.
1818.
to serve as an illustration.
TABLE.
1618. Geoffrey Munshull, of Gray's Inn, Gent., an insolvent
debtor, published his book, “FSSayes and Character
Of a Prison and Prisoners.”
James I. shipped 100 prisoners to Virginia, the begin-
ning of English transportation.
Vincent de Paul appointed chaplain to the galleys, at
Marseilles.
John Grevius, a minister, who had himself been a
prisoner for a year and a half, on account of his
religious belief, published a book against torture.
Jacob Doepler’s “Theatrum Poenarum.”
Organization of the Christian Knowledge Society.
Dr. Bray, chairman of committee of prisons, re-
ported, and afterward published, an “Essay toward
the Reformation of Newgate and the other Prisons
in and about London,” in which he proposed that
every prisoner should be kept in a separate cell.
Pope Clement XI, built the juvenile prison of Saint
Michael, with the inscription: Parum est improbos
coèrcere poemá, nisi bonos efficias disciplinó.
1619.
1622.
1624.
1693.
1699.
1704.
1819.
1821.
1822.
1824.
1825.
1828.
1829.
1831.
Peter the Great established transportation to Siberia.
“Reflections on the Prisons of the Religious Orders,”
by Mabillon, appeared in France.
General Oglethorpe (afterward the founder of the
State of Georgia) acted as chairman of a committee
of the house of commons, to inquire into the state
of English jails.
A second parliamentary committee, of which William
Hay was chairman.
Montesquieu’s “Spirit of Laws” published. France
abolished the galleys, and substituted for them the
bagnes. -
Beccaria on “Crimes and their Punishment.”
Blackstone’s “Commentaries.” .
Vilain XIV., of Belgium, published his First Memoir,
proposing to convert the citadel of Ghent into a
Workhouse. - t
Charles Lorraine ordered the construction of the orig-
inal prison of Ghent, octagonal and star-shaped.
Organization of the Society for the Relief of Poor
Debtors. Denne's published Letter to Sir Robert,
advocating separate imprisonment.
John Howard, sheriff of Bedford.
Jail ſees abolished in England.
Organization of the Philadelphia Society for Alleviat-
ing the Miseries of Public Prisons.
Howard printed the first edition of his “State of
Prisons.” An act for the establishment of a peni-
tentiary in England was passed by parliament; this
act was the joint production of Howard, Blackstone
and Eden, but remained inoperative in conse-
quence of the determination of the government to
transport convicts to Australia.
The “preparatory question " (torture for the purpose
of securing a confession of guilt) abolished in
France.
Parliament, at the instance of Sir George Paul, passed
i. act for a new jail and penitentiary in Glouces-
CI’.
Capital and corporal punishment abolished in the
state of Pennsylvania, and the solitary system of
imprisonment adopted as a substitute. Construc-
tion of the Walnut street prison.
England sent out the first cargo of convicts to Aus-
tralia.
Organization of the Philanthropic Society of London.
France abolished torture. -
Death of John Howard in the Crimea.
Jeremy Bentham’s “Panopticon.” The French Na-
tional Convention adopted a penal code : simple
imprisonment recognized as punishment for the
first time in France.
The Gloucester jail, in England, completed, on the
Solitary plan.
Torture abolished in Russia.
Elizabeth Fry's visit to Newgate.
Louis XVIII., of France, ordered the construction of
a model prison.
Organization of the London Society for the Improve-
ment of Prison Discipline.
Mrs. Fry opened a school in Newgate. Creation of
the Auburn penitentiary, in the state of New York.
Organization of the New York Society for the Pre-
vention of Pauperism. Buxton’s “Inquiry.”
Milbank penitentiary, in London, begun. Organiza-
tion of the Royal Prison Society of France. Organ-
ization of the Prison Aid Society of St. Petersburg.
John Falk, of Weimar, organized the “Friends in
Need.”
Rdward Livingston, of Louisiana, began the prepara-
tion of his “System of Penal Law.”
Act. 4 George IV., c. 64—the English jail act.
Organization of the Boston Prison Discipline Society.
Opening of the New York House of Refuge for Juve-
nile Delinquents.
M. Charles Lucas published “The Penitentiary Sys-
tem of Europe and America.”
Opening of the Eastern Penitentiary of Pennsylvania,
at Philadelphia.
De Tocqueville and Beaumont's tour of inspection of
the penitentiaries of the United States.
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
357
1833. Dr.Wichern established the Rauhe Haus, at Hamburg.
1835. Colonel Montesinos appointed governor of the prison
- at Valencia, in Spain.
1836. Crawford's report to the English government, on
- American prisons.
1837. Visit of De Metz to the United States.
1838. Juvenile prison at Parkhurst, in the Isle of Wight.
1839. Opening of the Agricultural Colony of Mettray, near
Tours, based on religion, the family principle, and
military discipline. Matthew Davenport Hill made
Recorder of Birmingham.
1840. Alexander Maconochie appointed governor of Norfolk
- Island. Prince Oscar, of Sweden, published a book
- On “Punishments and Prisons.”
1842. Pentonville prison, in London, opened, on the Phila-
delphia plan.
1844. Organization of the New York Prison Association.
1845. International Prison Congress, at Frankfort-on-the-
Main.
1846. International Prison Congress, at Brussels.
1850. Formation of the board of directors of convict prisons
In England.
1852. Creation of French penal colony at Cayenne, in
- Guiana.
1853. English penal servitude act.
1854. Formation of the board of directors of convict pris-
ons in Ireland, of which Capt. Walter Crofton was
made chairman.
1857. Transportation abolished by the English parliament.
International Prison Congress at Frankfort-on-the-
Main. Organization of the British Association for
the Promotion of Social Science.
1870. National Prison Congress at Cincinnati: organization
of the National (U. S.) Prison Association.
1872. International Prison Congress of London.
1877. Organization of the Société Générale des Prisons at
- |Paris.
1878. International Prison Congress of Stockholm.
— The above skeleton will serve its purpose, if it
illustrates the thought that there is a natural order
of progress in prison reform; that prisons are first
places of detention, then of punishment, and, last
of all, of reformation; reformation being their
highest, as custody is their lowest, aim. There
have been isolated spirits who have perceived this
truth in advance; but it was many centuries before
it took possession of the public: yet its acceptance
has in the end been rapid and all but universal, for
which, possibly, thanks may be due to steam and
to electricity, the magicians of the nineteenth
century. A review of the history of the move-
ment will show that the first reformers have been
those who have had opportunities to observe prison
life from the inside; that sympathy has first been
awakened for the innocent victims of the prison
system, namely, for poor debtors; that the cruel-
ties formerly practiced in prisons excited a reaction
in noble minds, which, acting like leaven, com-
municated itself in the end to the public ; and
that science and religion have both contributed to
the development of a more rational and humane
prison discipline. It will also show that the first
step in prison reform, everywhere, is classification
of prisoners, which may or may not go to the
extent of individual separation, but which leads
to a classification of prisons; that for the realiza-
tion of this end, a central administration is essen-
tial. By classification, the action and reaction of
prisoners upon each other is checked, if not wholly
prevented. The second step is kindness and con-
ciliation, which prepare the prisoner for the re-
ception of instruction, and incline him to yield to
the influence brought to bear upon him for his
conversion from an enemy into a friend of social
Order. The third is education, which includes
not only religious instruction, but mental develop-
ment, indoctrination in the laws of social life, and
the acquisition of a trade or some other means of
earning an honest livelihood. The last of these
ends can only be secured by the introduction into
prisons of organized and profitable labor, which
has the further recommendation, that, by employ-
ing the prisoner's time and thoughts, it makes
discipline more easy, while it also tends to reduce
the cost of punishment. A system of reformatory
influence, such as is here indicated, implies trained
officials, by whom alone it can successfully be
administered, and that again implies reasonable
stability and permanence in office, which further
implies non-interference for political reasons. Suc-
cess in the effort at reformation implics the re-
lease of the prisoner, absolutely or conditionally,
when reformed. Failure in this effort implies the
necessity for punishment of the refractory pris-
oner, either by the infliction of suffering, by the
deprivation of privileges, or by the increased du-
ration of his term of imprisonment. Thus it may
be seen that the modern prison system, at every
stage of its evolution, revolves around one central
thought—the possibility of reformation; that the
reformation of the prisoner is its one animating
purpose; that the hope of reformation is the motive
to which it owes its origin; and posterity will pro-
nounce judgment upon it from this one point of
view. All this is clear, from an attentive study
of the history, of which the table given above is
an outline. Reformation, instead of removing the
prisoner from Society, restores him to society, by
removing him from the criminal class. It is,
therefore, the highest interest of society. The
only question is, whether it is possible, which is a
question of the prisoner himself, his nature, his
antecedents and his habits. – The attempt to solve
this question has led to the development of two
distinct systems of prison discipline, which are
commonly known as the Philadelphia and the
Auburn plans, or the separate and the congregate
systems. The first of these insists upon the sep-
aration of prisoners by day and night; the second,
by night only. From these two a third has been
evolved, which is, in a certain sense, a combina-
tion of the two, but has also distinct features of
its own ; this is commonly known as the Irish
system, because, under Sir Walter Crofton, it has
been most fully and successfully applied in Ire-
land. — The first experiment with the strictly cel-
lular system (by day and night), sometimes called
the solitary or separate or individual system, was
made, under the influence of the society of Friends,
in the Walnut street prison, in Philadelphia: it is
sometimes called the Pennsylvania system, because
Pennsylvania is the only one of the United States
which has not abandoned it. Its essential princi-
ple is the complete physical separation of prisoners.
It rests upon the conviction that mutual contact
358
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
between them is of necessity corrupting, and that
classification upon any basis except that of indi-
vidual character is impossible ; in other words,
each prisoner is a class by himself. At the outset,
solitary imprisonment, without labor or recreation
or mental contact with any human being, even
with the officers of the prison, except in case of
necessity, was the form which this experiment
assumed ; but the severity of this rule has now
been relaxed, on account of the injury which it
wrought, in some cases, both to the body and the
mind of its subject. At present, useful, remu-
nerative occupation is furnished to every prisoner,
in his cell, and care is taken to preserve the ac-
tivity of his mind by intercourse with the officials
and with authorized visitors from the outside, who
endeavor to exert upon him a salutary and reform-
atory influence. Certain incidental advantages
of this system are obvious, namely: the impossi-
bility of combination on the part of prisoners,
which renders revolt impossible, and gives to the
prison authorities more easy and certain control;
there is, therefore, less occasion for the exercise
of physical force in the discipline, which is an
advantage to the prisoner himself; the discipline
can be more varied, in accordance with the physi-
cal and mental condition, tastes and aptitudes of
individual convicts; and the prisoner, when dis-
charged, is not liable to be recognized by any who
were incarcerated with him; he makes no acquaint-
ances in the prison. These and other beneficial
features of the system have occasioned its very
general adoption upon the continent of Europe.
Even its opponents concede its merits, when they
advocate cellular imprisonment for short terms of
sentence, and applaud the Irish system, of which
cellular imprisonment is the initial measure. That
it has produced excellent results is beyond dispute,
and its friends claim, that, more than any other
system, it reduces the number, of recidivists, that is,
of discharged convicts who lapse again into crime.
— The Pennsylvania system had no rival in the
United States, for many years. The prison at
Auburn, in the state of New York, was organized
upon this plan ; but after a year's trial it was
abandoned, and the “silent” system was devised,
to take its place. By the new method the pris-
oners were employed in large workshops during
the day, and separation between them, the neces-
sity for which was acknowledged, was secured
by the institution of a rule forbidding them to
communicate with visitors or with each other.
For the enforcement of this rule (which could,
at best, be only partial), flogging was the main
reliance of the keepers, and the use of the whip
was, for many years, a marked feature of the
system. But with the lapse of time the require-
ment of absolute silence has been relaxed, so
that all congregate prisons with separate cells
for sleeping are Said to be on the Auburn plan,
even though two prisoners occupy one cell joint-
ly. In this modified sense the Auburn system
has so far displaced its predecessor and rival,
that the Eastern penitentiary of Pennsylvania, in
the city of Philadelphia, is now the only strictly
cellular prison for convicts of the higher grades,
in the United States. Many causes have con-
spired to effect this result, among which may be
named the impression made upon spectators by
the sight of hundreds of men at work, side by
side, with their eyes bent down, and not utter-
ing an audible word; the comparative cheapness.
of construction and maintenance of congregated
prisons; the ease with which profitable labor can
be introduced into them, especially in connection
with machinery of all sorts; the facilities which
they afford for contracting out the labor of con-
victs, thus relieving the administration of finan-
cial responsibility; and the popular dread of the
consequences of solitary confinement. These have
probably had more to do with it than any higher
considerations relating to the comparative re-
formatory influence of the two systems. – The
Irish system was, in its origin, an outgrowth of
the experience of Capt. Maconochie, as governor
of the penal settlement of Norfolk island. Con-
ditional liberation, or the ‘‘ ticket of leave,” was
an Australian invention; when it was first trans-
planted from Australia to England, it created a
panic. The “mark” system was also an Austra-
lian invention, the product of Maconochie's own
inventive genius. Add to these “progressive”
classification, and the “intermediate’ prison, and
we have the four elements of the Crofton sys-
tem. M. Bonneville de Marsangy, of France, fore-
shadowed it, in an address delivered before the
bench and bar of Rheims, in 1846, in which he
advocated association instead of separation of
prisoners; but association modified by an initial
period of cellular incarceration, by a certain
number of separate and successive stages, by the
employment of marks, by the intermediate prison,
and finally by conditional liberation. In 1854 Capt.
Crofton (afterward Sir Walter Crofton), who had
for one year previous been one of the commission-
ers to inquire into the state of Irish prisons, Was ap-
pointed chairman of the directors of convict pris-
ons in Ireland. He was knighted in 1862 for his
successful administration of this office, which he
held for eight years, during which he established a
mode of dealing with convicts which has attracted
the attention of the world, and received the indorse-
ment of the Baron von Holtzendorf of Prussia,
Count Cavour and M. Beltrani-Scalia of Italy, Dr.
Guillaume of Switzerland, Prof. Mittermaier of
Heidelberg, Lord Brougham of England, and others
equally illustrious and equally competent to judge
of its merits. Briefly described, it is as follows: it
consists of four separate stages, of which the first is
not less than eight months of strictly cellular con-
finement in the Mountjoy prison, Dublin, With
short rations and no employment but picking Oak-
um for the first half of the time; the second is an
indefinite period (not less than one year) of associat-
ed imprisonment at Spike island, at the Southern
extremity of Ireland, where the prisoners are divid-
ed into four classes, and are promoted from One to
the other, according to their conduct, industry and
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
359
diligence at school, an account being kept with
them by the use of marks, and their promotion de-
pends upon their record; the third is a short period
(not less than six months) of probationary detention
in a condition intermediate between imprisonment
and freedom, at Lusk, about twelve miles from
Dublin, where the men are trained for entire
freedom, and their capacity for it is tested, prior
to their liberation; the fourth is conditional libera-
tion, with police supervision. The intermediate
prison for women is the Golden Bridge Refuge,
three miles from Dublin. This system is supple-
mented by a very perfect system of obtaining em-
ployment for prisoners after their discharge. It is
possible that its beneficial influence in preventing
recommitments is also aided by the readiness with
which the Irish emigrate to America. The princi-
ples which underlie it are: an inexorable justice,
Which will not reinil, punishinent in the case of
any convict; the holding out to every prisoner of
the hope of a speedy release, to be effected by his
own exertions; the employment of means to make
him the agent of his own reformation; the re-
gard shown for the public, in refusing to dis-
charge any prisoner until expiration of sentence,
unless he gives positive evidence of his capacity
to resist temptation ; the terrible severity with
which a lapse into crime is punished; and the rec-
ognition of the necessity for mental and social
contact between prisoners, after cellular separa-
ration, in order to prepare them for a re-entrance
into the world. — There can be no prison system
which is not, in some form, a modification of one
of the three here mentioned and described. The
application of these several forms to different
classes of prisoners (to the young, to women, to
first offenders, to misdemeanants, to felons, to
prisoners awaiting trial, to convicts under short
and long sentences, etc.), and their adaptation to
the social state of different nations, constitute
the problem of penitentiary science. — The details.
of prison administration, though of intense in-
terest to specialists, would occupy more space than
can be given them in the present article. Ques-
tions which have been much discussed, and con-
cerning which a great variety of opinion exists,
are such as these: prison architecture and Sanita-
tion; the prison staff; mode of appointment of
officers; tenure of office; prison dietaries; labor
in prisons—as a reformatory measure, as a means
of reducing the cost of crime, as a preparation for
the rehabilitation of the criminal, as it affects
the interests of labor outside the prison walls,
and the best mode of carrying it on, that is,
whether under the immediate control of the pris-
on authorities, or by contracting it out to pri-
vate persons or corporations; prison Schools, in-
cluding the question of normal Schools for train-
ing prison employés in their duties; religious in-
struction in prisons; prison libraries; the cor-
respondence of prisoners; visits to prisoners by
their friends and by other persons; the rights of
convicts in prison; the privileges which it is ex-
pedient to grant them, and especially the effect of
allowing them a percentage of their earnings; the
dress of prisoners; disciplinary punishments in
prison; prison registers, and the use of photog-
raphy as an aid to the identification of escaped
prisoners, or of recidivists; prison statistics; the
proper treatment of sick prisoners and of convicts
who are or who become insane ; the duration of
imprisonment,” as it is affected by life sentences,
* There are but three possible varieties of sentences for
crime, namely: fixed, discretionary, and indieterminate.—A
primitive state of Society can be imagined, in which, in the
absence of any penal code, all offenses are visited with a
single extreme penalty, or, at least, in which the amount of
torture inflicted is limited only by the caprice of the despot
who inflicts it. The invention of a scale of punishments
(échelle des peines), and the application of punishment ac-
cording to this scale, under rules prescribed by a code, may
be regarded as the first step in the onward march of human-
ity in quest of that ideal justice which forever eludes dis-
covery. Under an absolute code, sentences are fixed; that
is, the penalty for each offense is named in the code itself,
and no latitude is left for the exercise of discretion by the
courts. But experience under an absolute code makes it
apparent that the legislature can not adjust punishment to
guilt; that in order to equality of punishment, punishment
must be more flexible; that the heinousness of an offense
depends not merely upon the character of the act, but upon
the circumstances of its commission, and the character and
motives of the actor, which can not be known, except as
revealed by the evidence at the time of the trial. To this
conviction is due the amendment of the code, by substitut-
ing for definite penalties the principle of maximum and
minimum punishments: the amount of punishment in each
actual case is, within certain prescribed limits, determined
by the court, and to that extent the sentence is discretionary.
Under this system the legislature shifts from its own shoul-
ders to those of the judiciary a large share of the respon-
sibility for a just estimate of guilt. But the courts are as
incapable of apportioning punishment as is the legislature:
the inequality of punishment against which the system is a
protest still exists: convicts feel it, prison officers see it, and
judges confess it. One sole resource is left, namely, again
to divide the burden of responsibility, by placing it in part
upon the officials to whom the custody and oversight of pris-
oners are committed. The first suggestion of a possibility of
such a solution was the creation, in the Australian colonies,
of the ticket-of-leave. But the principle of conditional lib-
eration, once recognized, gained adherents everywhere, and
it has been incorporated in many penal codes. The “mark.”
system and “good-time ’’ laws are outgrowths of this prin-
ciple of variability in the duration of imprisonment, de-
pendent upon the conduct of the prisoner himself. The
indeterminate sentence is its highest and latest form. It
exists only in theory, not having been reduced to practice
by any government, but is advocated by many able men who
have had practical experience in the administration of the
criminal law and in the care of criminals. Under this ideal
system, neither the legislature nor the courts prescribe any
definite term of imprisonment; maximum and minimum
penalties are abolished; the court passes solely upon the.
criminality of the prisoner under indictment; his release
from prison depends upon his amenability to discipline, and
the estimate formed of his character by those who hold him
in custody and under observation, and by whom discipline
or “treatment" is to be administered to him. — To this
definition of the indeterminate sentence it is essential to add
the briefest possible account of the nature of the arguments
for and against it. It has a close logical connection with
that theory of crime, according to which criminal actions
are the product of disease; crime is a neurosis, like insanity
or idiocy, and should be so treated; in so far as it is analo-
gous to insanity, the criminal has a right to cure, and in So
far as it is analogous to idiocy, he has a right to education,
training and development; prisons should be regarded and
conducted as moral hospitals or training Schools for moral
imbeciles, rather than as places of punishment. It is also
connected with that theory of moral responsibility which
either denies its existence or denies that it can be judged by
360
PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.
by cumulative sentences, by “good-time” laws,
and by executive interference; the effect of tran-
sition from a state of imprisonment to a state of
freedom upon the prisoner himself, and the ne-
cessity for continued care of him subsequent to
his discharge, with especial reference to securing
him honest employment. — The tests of success-
ful prison administration are: 1. The behavior of
prisoners during incarceration. An increased per-
Centage of suicides, or of attempted escapes, or of
riotous demonstrations, or even of disciplinary
any but Almighty God; which would climinate from crimi-
mal jurisprudence all thought of retribution or expiation;
Which would abandon the attempt to adjust penalty to ill-
desert; and which denies the right of society, if not of God
himself, to inflict punishment upon any sentient creature.
Of the three possible bases of a penal code, it only accepts
two, namely, the protection of society and the reformation
of the Offender. . The status of the criminal is reduced to a
dilemma: he can be reformed, or he can not; if he can be,
he should be; if he can not be reformed, he should be held
for life, if necessary, in order to protect society from injury
at his hands. . Hence, indeterminate sentences are some-
times called reformation sentences. In the terse language
of Mr. Recorder Hill, of Birmingham, “To our limited fac-
ulties, crime and punishment have no common measure;
our [present] course of proceeding is almost as vain in
practice as it is absurd in theory; and in truth, there re-
main for us but two modes of usefully dealing with crim-
inals—£ncapacitation, and réformation.” — It is evident that
the questions raised by the advocates of the indetermi-
nate sentence cover pretty much the whole field of human
thought, in Science, in religion, in philosophy, in morals, in
politics and in law. To argue them exhaustively a pro-
found knowledge of first principles and an extensive ac-
Quaintance with the facts of Science and of history are essen-
tial prerequisites. – But from the practical side, the point of
View of the statesman and the legislator, the question is one
of the concentration or distribution of power: what powers
shall be conferred upon prison officers, what use they might
make of them for good or for evil, what guarantees can be
given that such enormous power over individuals will not be
abused. On the other hand, it is a question what benefit, in
thereformation of prisoners or the repression of crime, would
follow the grant if made. It is an outward obedience only
which is paid to power. The heart is moved by love; and it
is not easy to see wherein there would be any more room for
the exercise of love under the new than under the present
system, while it is quite certain that an increase of power
begets an increase of fear, and that under the influence of
fear the moral character is more likely to deteriorate than to
improve. It may well be asked: If the adjustment of pen-
alty to guilt is a task beyond the power of any legislature or
any court, is it not also beyond the power of any prison
board? Or if we discard the idea of penalty, and consider
the criminal as a man diseased, what assurance can we have,
that the persistence of the criminal, as of the insane, temper-
ament, will not defy every effort for its eradication? If we
concede that the majority are susceptible of cure, is it just to
incarcerate for life those who can not be cured, and yet whose
criminality may be of too feeble a type to involve any seri-
ous peril to society as the result of their liberation? and if
not, then how, and by what tribunal, and upon what princi-
ple, is the date of their release to be determined? —There is
no immediate prospect of the general acceptance of the inde-
terminate sentence; but the discussion opens up such a wide
range of investigation and reflection as to make it interesting
and profitable to all thoughtful students of penology. Its
acceptance would put an end to the debates about cumula-
tive sentences, restitution sentences, life sentences, a scale
of penalties, the assimilation of penalties, and many other
subsidiary questions of criminal jurisprudence. With the
adoption of this form of sentence, society would return to
its original position and conviction, that, in one way or in
another, the expulsion of irreclaimable offenders is a neces-
sity. No more complete confession of the failure of existing
modes of dealing with crime can well be imagined.
punishments, is an indication of weakness, cruelty,
or vacillation in the discipline. 2. The sanitary
condition of prisons, and especially the death
rate. 3. The number of recidivists, or recom-
mitments. 4. The general increase or decrease in
the amount of crime perpetrated. 5. The finan-
cial result; but too much relatively may be made
of financial success, since it may be attained by
the sacrifice of other ends infinitely more impor-
tant. — For the application of these tests, scien-
tific observation, continued for a term of years,
is essential; such observation must be by inspec-
tion, and by the accumulation and digestion of
statistical information: it implies trained observ-
ers with authority to collect information, and
an organized system of returns. Hence the ef-
fort to organize a system of international pen-
itentiary statistics, of which M. Beltrani-Scalia
is perhaps the most intelligent and persistent
advocate, but which has thus far failed. As for
this country, the absence of any approach to
unity in the organization of our prison system
renders it peculiarly difficult to collect data for a
trustworthy estimate of its actual effect in the
repression of crime. The percentage of failure
is undoubtedly large. The causes of this failure
are obscure: whether it is due to the persistence
of the criminal character, or to the want of ex-
perience and of devotion on the part of prison
officers, or to faulty methods of organization and
discipline. — The failure of the prison everywhere
to accomplish the work which is desired and ex-
pected of it, has led some bold thinkers to predict
its abolition, but without clearly indicating what
is to take its place. There are very many who
believe that too much reliance is placed upon it,
and too much use made of it; they would prefer
to see more use made of judicial admonition and
police supervision. One thought seems to run
through all the publications with which the press
has teemed, for some years past—books, pam-
phlets, reports, addresses, transactions of prison
and other societies, and of prison Congresses at
home and abroad: it is that the prevention of
crime is to be aimed at, rather than its repression.
To prevent it, we must stop the operation of the
causes which produce it. These causes are to be
sought, either in the character of the individual
who commits crime, or in his circumstances. The
criminal himself has become the object of atten-
tive study, in his physical as well as in his mental
and moral organization, with a view to determine
how far he is normal and how far abnormal, and
how far any departure from a normal type which
he presents for our consideration, is due to he-
reditary predisposition to crime; in other words,
whether there is a criminal neurosis. The con-
nection between crime and the Social milieu has
become apparent, and causes of crime are found
not only in ignorance, in intemperance, in idle-
ness, in destitution, and in the want of friends
and of a home, but in the relations of labor and
capital, in the character and amount of the food
supply, in bad legislation and Vicious customs, in
PRIVATEERING.
361
inefficient police regulations, and a lax administra-
tion of justice. Human nature is as sensitive to
its surroundings as is an electrometer to the elec-
tric current, and whatever tends to elevate man-
kind, to improve its condition either physically
or mentally, tends also to the elimination of crime.
The reformation of morals is a part of the general
advance of civilization, and each part must ad-
vance with the whole, something as a railway car-
riage goes forward or backward with the train of
which it forms a part. Too much dependence is
not to be placed upon any prison system. It is al-
ways to be remembered that no system will suc-
ceed in the hands of an incompetent or dishonest
man; while even a bad system, in the hands of an
earnest and able man, may be productive of the
best results. FRED. H. WINES.
DRIVATE BILLS.
LAW.)
(See PARLIAMENTARY
PRIVATE CALENDAR.
ARY L.A.W.)
(See PARLIAMENT-
PRIVATEERING is the act or the employ-
ment of attacking and seizing vessels or other
property belonging to an enemy, at sea, by means
of privateers. -- Privateers are armed vessels that
are owned, equipped and officered by one or more
private persons, but sailing under a commission,
usually called letters of marque, from a belligerent
state, which empowers the person or persons to
whom it is granted to attack and seize, at Sea, ves-
sels or other property of its enemy. — The right
to use such vessels in maritime war is recognized
by international law; their employment was nec-
essary till states established permanent public na-
vies; their use since that time has been claimed
to be advantageous to states having Small navies,
because it enables them to increase their naval
force in a short time, and at a small cost, and thus
tends to prevent a state, with a powerful navy,
from having an undue advantage over another
state whose marine is mainly commercial. — The
disadvantages of using privateers are, that, their
services being obtained by allowing their owners
to appropriate to themselves and to their crews
the whole or a part of the vessels or other proper-
ty they may capture, and their officers and crews
not being under naval discipline, the desire of
prize tends to lead both officers and crews beyond
the limits of legitimate war, to produce disregard
of the rights of neutrals, and to continue lawless-
ness after the return of peace. — These evils, the
rapid growth of neutral interests, and the increas-
ing difficulty of fitting out vessels, by private
means, suited to the conditions of modern mari-
time war, have led, during the past century, to
repeated efforts to abolish privateering. In 1785
a treaty between the United States and Prussia,
negotiated by Franklin, bound the contracting
States, in case hostilities arose between them, not
to use privateers. In 1792 the French assem-
bly agreed to suppress privateering, but without
effect. In 1823 the United States unsuccessfully
tried to secure the same object by treaties with
Great Britain, France and Russia. In the Mexi-
can war the United States issued no letters of
marque, and, although Mexico issued such letters,
they were not taken by foreigners, because munic-
ipal laws or treaties forbade. In the Crimean war
neither of the belligerents issued letters of marque.
At the close of this war the principal states of
Europe, uniting in the belief that private armed
ships, maintained at private cost for private gain,
and often necessarily for a long time beyond the
reach of the regular naval force of the state, could
not be kept under proper control, signed the dec-
laration of Paris (April 16, 1856), the first article
of which reads: “Privateering is and remains
abolished.” Since that time all the important
states in Europe and the Americas have become
signataries of the declaration of Paris, except the
United States, Spain and Mexico. This declara-
tion binds only its signataries when at war with
each other, and leaves them free to use privateers
when at war with other states. – The refusal of
the United States to sign the declaration of Paris,
which secured to its signataries privileges which
it had been the traditional policy of the United
States to obtain, was due to a change in the atti-
tude of the government since 1823, and a belief
that the United States, with its large commercial
marine, might be unable to adequately protectitself
against belligerent states with powerful navies,
without the aid of privateers. The United States,
however, agreed to become a party to the decla-
ration iſ its signataries would amond it by adding
a provision protecting from capture all private
property at sea, not contraband. This proposition,
called the “Marcy” or “American” amendment,
not being accepted by the signataries, was with-
drawn in 1857. — In 1861, Great Britain unsuc-
cessfully sought to induce the confederate govern-
ment to accede to the declaration of Paris. The
United States thereupon offered to accede uncon-
ditionally to the declaration of Paris, hoping
thereby to obtain an international right to treat
confederate privateers as pirates. Great Britain,
having accorded the character of belligerents to
the confederates, had practically recognized their
right to employ privateers, and the offer of the
TInited States was declined unless the United
States would admit that its signature should not
have “any bearing, direct or indirect, on the in-
ternal differences (now) prevailing in the United
States.” This attempted restriction by one state
of a declaration of so general and permanent a
character, and to which so many states were par-
ties, was not acceptable to the United States, and
its accession to the declaration of Paris has not
yet been made. The confederate states having
offered letters of marque to subjects of all Coun-
tries, the congress of the United States authorized
the president to issue letters of marque, but, as
nearly all the maritime powers had warned their
subjects, that, if they served in privateers in the
war, their governments would not interfere to pro-
362
PRIZES.
tect them, and as the United States had threatened
to treat such persons as pirates, no avowedly for-
eign private armed vessels took letters of marque
(from the confederate government), and the Osten-
sibly confederate vessels were commissioned as of
its regular navy; and the president of the United
States did not make use of his power to issue let-
ters of marque.— During the Franco-German war,
in 1870, a royal decree of Prussia ordered the cre-
ation of a volunteer navy. The owners of vessels
were invited to fit them out for attack on French
ships of war; bounties were offered ; the crews
were to be under naval discipline, but they were
to be furnished by the owners of the ships; the
officers were not to be regular naval officers. The
French government protested against the use of
such a volunteer navy as an evasion of the en-
gagement not to employ privateers, by which
Prussia was bound by the declaration of Paris.
The sole real difference discoverable between pri-
vateers and such a volunteer navy is, that the
latter is under naval discipline. — In war all cap-
tives vest originally in the state, and the commis-
sion which alone gives privateersmen a legal inter-
est in a valid prize must be kept on board of their
vessel. Sailing under a commission from each of
two belligerent states is piratical ; acting under
two or more commissions granted by allied states
against a common enemy is irregular, but not
piratical.
or citizens, and the conditions upon which, states
issue letters of marque, vary with their municipal
laws. Persons applying for such letters are usu-
ally required to give large bonds that they will
conform to the usages of war, obey the instruc-
tions of the granting state, observe the rights of
neutrals, and bring into port, except in cases of
overwhelming necessity, all captures for adjudica-
tion by a prize court. —Where, as in the United
States, no positive municipal law exists upon the
subject, the general rule is, that the owners and
officers of privateers are liable in damages for ille-
gal conduct, when admittedly engaged in pri-
vateering beyond the amount of security given,
and that the measure of damages is the value of
the property unlawfully injured or destroyed. —
Treaties of varying duration have been made, and
some of them by the United States, with France,
Holland, Sweden, Prussia, Great Britain, Spain,
and Colombia, which forbid the citizens or sub-
jects of either contracting state, while they are at
peace, to accept letters of marque from a third
state, at war with the other contracting state.
Municipal laws often prohibit the citizens or
subjects over whom they are set from taking
privateering commissions from a foreign state.
Thus, the laws of both Great Britain and the
United States impose severe penalties on citizens
or residents who accept commissions, equip pri-
vateers or enlist men for service in any foreign
war. See Wheaton's International Law, 8th ed.,
by Dana, sec. 358, and note; Kent's Commentaries,
12th ed., vol. i., pp. 98–102; Woolsey’s Interna-
tional Law, secs. 127–130; Twiss’ Law of Nations
The persons to whom, whether aliens
(Time of War), chap. 10; Hall’s International Law,
pp. 453-456; Journal of Social Science, No. 10,
1879, art. “United States and the Declaration of
Paris,” by T. S. Woolsey; British Foreign Enlist-
ment Act, 1870; Revised Statutes of the United States,
title 67. JAMES FAIRBANKS Col.BY.
PRIWILEGE. (See PARLIAMENTARY L.Aw.)
PRIZES, Maritime. A maritime prize is a
vessel or cargo or other property which is lawfully
captured in war at sea by authority of a belligerent
state. — By modern international law the fact of
maritime capture does not vest the thing seized
with the character of prize, nor pass a perfect
title to the belligerent state under whose authority
the capture is alleged to have occurred, or, through
it, to any of its agents, until, upon satisfactory
proof that such seizure was made in accordance
with the usages of war, a competent court of the
belligerent state by whose authority the captor
acts, has pronounced a sentence of condemnation.
Nor can property in the thing captured at sea be
transferred in favor of a neutral vendee or re-
captor, so as to bar the original owner, until such
a court has pronounced Sentence of condemnation;
and the possession of the thing captured at sea.
by the belligerent state of the captor, until such
Court has pronounced sentence of condemnation,
is a trust for the benefit of those who may be
ultimately found to be entitled. — A competent
court, for the purpose above described, is any
court of the belligerent state under whose author-
ity the capture is alleged to have occurred, which
has jurisdiction in cases of maritime capture.
Such a court is commonly called a prize court.
In the United States such jurisdiction is confined
to the federal courts, beginning with a district
court, with appeal up through the circuit courts
to the Supreme court. A prize court may sit
either in the territory of the state of the captor
or in that of any allied state, but not in that of
a neutral state, and its sentence of condemnation
may be valid, though the thing captured has never
been in its actual custody, or is in a neutral port
or is not in existence, when pronounced. — The
necessity of inquiry by a prize court into the law-
fulness of maritime captures results from the re-
sponsibility of belligerent states to neutral states
for aggressions upon the persons and property of
their subjects, and the fact that a large propor-
tion of maritime captures are neutral property
‘‘charged as involved in violation of rights of
war, or property whose nationality as neutral or
hostile is doubtful.” — The duty of a captor in
war on stopping a vessel, according to the author-
ities below cited, is to make such examination as
circumstances permit, and to release the vessel
unless there is probable cause for a fuller exami-
nation by a prize court. If such cause is found,
the captor's duty is to send the vessel, as speedily
as possible, into a convenient port of his own state
(the modern practice of neutrals prohibiting the
use of their ports by the prizes of a belligerent,
PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
363
except in cases of necessity, and only while the
necessity exists) for such fuller examination, to-
gether with all the papers, cargo and other evi-
dence on board, unaltered, and with all persons on
board likely to be useful to the owners as witness-
es. If the vessel stopped is a neutral vessel, the
captor's duty is, after examination, either to re-
lease the vessel absolutely with her cargo, papers
and passengers, or to complete his capture, and
send her into a convenient port of his own state
for further examination by a prize court. He can
not take any middle course in such a case. Ne-
cessity will excuse the captor from sending in the
vessel seized. If she is unseaworthy, or there is
imminent danger of immediate recapture, or if
an infectious disease is on board, he may destroy
or abandon the vessel seized, but he must preserve
all papers and persons on board, for the validity
of his acts is, even in such cases, matter for the
adjudication of a prize court. —If, after seizure
of a vessel, she escapes from her captor, or is re-
taken, or if the Owner ransoms her, before sen-
tence of condemnation, the property is thereby
revested. — Even though no controlling necessity
prevents the sending into a convenient port of the
thing seized, some states (among them, the United
States) allow their captors to release the vessel or
other property captured at Sea, upon a written
agreement, made and delivered by or on behalf
of its owners, to give something of value to the
captor. This written agreement is called a ran-
Som bill, and with it hostages have sometimes
been given to the captor as collateral security for
the fulfillment of the contract. The receipt for
the ransom bill is a passport, entitling the releasee
to pursue a definite voyage within a definite time
without liability to capture by any one acting
under authority of the state of the captor, or its
ally. Failure to comply strictly with the terms
of the ransom bill revives the liability to capture,
unless it can be clearly proven that such failure is
due to unavoidable necessity. If the ransomed
vessel or other property is lost before completion
of the prescribed voyage, the ransom is still due,
unless the captor expressly insured the releasee
against the perils of the sea. If the ransomed
vessel or other property is recaptured on a differ-
ent voyage from that described, or after the time
limited, and is adjudged a lawful prize, the price
of the ransom is deducted from the proceeds of
the prize, and given to the first captor, and the
residue is given to the second captor. The recap-
ture of the ransom bill discharges the obligation
of the releasee, but the death or flight of hostages
given with the ransom bill does not. — If a captor,
Stopping a vessel at Sea, is not relieved, after such
examination as circumstances there permit, from
the duty of sending her in for adjudication, and
if she is not revested in her original owner by re-
Capture Or ransom, a fuller examination of the
vessel or other property will be made by the prize
Court, and the property will either be restored to its
Original owner or condemned. The procedure in
prize courts is summary, and not in the nature of
litigation inter partes, or ea parte. Prima facie
the vessel or other property captured is the prop-
erty of the state. Opportunity is given to any
person or state, not an enemy, who has an interest
in the vessel or other property, to establish a right
of restitution. If no claimant establishes a right
to restitution, the vessel or other property is con-
demned. If any claimant establishes a right to
restitution, he is entitled, not only to the cap-
tured property, but to damages from the captor,
if the seizing and sending were without probable
cause. If a state does not submit the question of
prize to adjudication, or if its prize court is not
constituted, or does not proceed, in the manner
recognized by the usages of nations, or if the
state should confiscate property against the decis-
ion of its own prize court, the state whose rights
or whose subject's rights are affected has cause of
complaint, and the question becomes political. —
Upon condemnation, the disposition of the pro-
ceeds of a prize depends upon municipal law.
Some states distribute such proceeds, called prize
or head money, among the captors as a reward for
bravery, and to encourage future maritime cap-
tures from their enemies. – The compensation to
which recaptors are entitled, called salvage, is de-
termined by municipal law between vessels of the
same state, and by treaty between vessels of allied
states, and, commonly, by the principle of rec-
iprocity between vessels of other states. – See
Wheaton's Interm&tional Law, secs. 359–396, and
Dana’s mote, pp. 480–488; Kent's Commentaries,
vol. i., pp. 100–116; Woolsey’s International Law,
secs. 148–153; Revised Statutes of the U. S., secs.
4613–4653. JAMES FAIRBANKS COLBY.
PRODUCTION OF WEALTH. The word
production, which, in ordinary language, means
the giving birth to, or producing, without regard
to the utility of the thing produced, or the outlay
required for that production, takes, in economic
science, a particular meaning, much more restrict-
ed, more exact and more absolute. This word, in
political economy, is applied to that particular
branch of the science which has for its object the
creation of values, considered apart from their dis-
tribution and their consumption; and, Scientific-
ally speaking, it can be applied only to work re-
Sulting in a product of a value Superior, or at
least equal, to that of the services of every kind
which that operation has taken. It is only when
this balance is obtained, that there is truly produc-
tion. There would be destruction on the contrary
hypothesis, that is, if the value produced was
found to be inferior to the sum of those necessa-
rily consumed in order to obtain it; and this is so
true, that, if one attempted to repeat the same
operation a certain number of times he would
finally destroy the entire sum of the values he
had originally employed in the experiment, SO
that it would become physically impossible to re-
peat it. There is, then, no doubt that in political
economy, what is called production, and the only
operation susceptible of being characterized as
364
PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
productive, is that which, taking everything into
account, results in a sum of values superior, Or at
least equal, to that which has had to be devoted to
it; and, in truth, it is this exact estimation of the
result, this strict reckoning of the consequences,
for good or evil, for profit or loss, advantage or
disadvantage, of our labors, our operations, Our
enterprises of every kind, which, more than any.
thing else, has given to the investigations of po-
litical economy the character of a science, and
which has made its intervention sometimes appear
to ignorant or evil-intentioned rulers so much to
be dreaded. — But if it is not possible to raise a
question as to the essential meaning given to the
word production in political economy, we must
admit that we are still far from having exhausted
the controversy: in the first place, on the determi-
nation of the kinds of labor that should be called
productive: and secondly, on the analysis of the
means by which production takes place. This
controversy has lasted ever since the first sys-
tematic efforts were made, more than eighty years
ago [now more than a hundred years ago.—Trans-
lator], to raise political economy to the condition
of a Science; and, first to speak only of the ques-
tion of knowing what kinds of labor are suscep-
tible of being qualified as productive, it seems to
us that people are not yet well settled in that re-
gard, either as to the category of the kinds of
labor which act upon things, or, above all, as to
that of the kinds of labor whose efforts are ex-
erted directly on man. One can not deny, for
example, that the nomenclature of kinds of labor
of the first category presents omissions and inac-
curacies that are quite serious. – There is, in the
first place, one entire class of labors, viz., that of
the extractive industries, which has become far too
considerable for it to be possible to take an ac-
count of it, and which, at the same time, differs
too much from all the others for it to be allow-
able to confound it with any other class. How
incomprehensible that any one should omit to
speak of a class of industries capable of throw-
ing upon the market masses of products compar-
able to those furnished by hunting, fishing, the
industry of the wood cutter, the quarry man,
and, above all, the miner! and, on the other hand,
how permit them to be confounded, as is some-
times done, with agricultural industry! What is
there in common between arts, which, confining
themselves to extracting from waters, forests and
earth the materials for a multitude of industries,
employ for that purpose only mechanical forces,
and an art which, like agriculture, is devoted to
the multiplication and improvement of useful ani-
mals and vegetables, and which, for that purpose,
makes use of a force so special, so little under-
stood, so delicate to manage, as life? Perhaps it
would be better to confound them, as is also done,
with the transportation industry; for, like that in-
dustry, the extractive arts do, in fact, change the
place of things which they supply for consump-
tion. But they are not, like it, confined to bring-
ing about a change of place: their craft especially
consists in the very fact of extraction, an indus-
trial action very difficult to practice, in all cases
very unlike that of transportation; and there is
no other way but to make of it an altogether sep-
arate class of labors, under the name of the ex-
tracting arts or extractive industries. – Another
serious inaccuracy to be noted in the nomencla-
ture of the arts which are exercised in the mate-
rial world, is the application of the term trade to
the business of transportation.* Trade has put
people in the way of that industry, has taught
them to specialize it, has led them to recognize
how an intelligent removal of things so as to
bring them within reach of whoever needs them,
may contribute to production; but it has not, for
all that, become the art of transportation, the car-
rying industry. The carrying industry is a vast
business, clearly distinguished from all others,
and should accordingly have its separate name.
We can not give it the name of trade without do-
ing violence to language, without miserably mu-
tilating it, in fact; and it is so much the more im-
possible to call the transportation industry trade,
because the term trade is applied to a class of facts
altogether different, which should also have its
appropriate appellation. To trade is to buy in
order to sell again; it is not an act peculiar to One
class of workmen; it is an act absolutely common
to all: and, to speak the truth, there is not a busi-
ness, from the highest to the lowest, in which peo-
ple do not begin by purchases and end by Sales.
If the owner of a vessel or other means of con-
veyance buys things in one place to sell them in
another, the manufacturer buys them under one
form to sell them under a different One ; who-
ever practices any handicraft, art or function, has
begun by acquiring aptitudes, talents, faculties,
which he afterward continually sells under the
form of services. Everybody, then, buys and Sells,
and buys in order to sell. Only, between the pur-
chases and the sales which every one makes, there
intervenes some labor, some art, the intelligent
practice of which constitutes his avocation: and,
to recur to the people whose business is to dis-
tribute things abroad in the world, and to put
them within reach of whoever needs them, there
is, between the purchases and the sales they make,
an art, which consists less in the act of buying,
selling and trading, which all kinds of workmen
do, the same as they, than in the judicious change
of place of things, and in the marvelous and
peculiar labor they perform, from which it is but
reasonable that their industry should receive its
name.—Finally, a last inaccuracy to be mentioned
in the nomenclature of the great-classes of labors
which act upon the material world, is the Order
in which they have been arranged. It is certainly
not very natural to call attention first to the one
of these classes which is the most difficult, which
was the last to originate, and which, by the na-
ture of the particular agent it employs, viz., life,
* M. Dunoyer here refers to the expression, “the carrying
trade,” the “commerce of transportation,” and others sim-
ilar. —E. J. L.
PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
365
most nearly approaches the high arts” which act
directly on the human race; and a logical arrange-
ment would have placed agricultural industry
last, instead of first. We have elsewhere given
the order in which we should think it proper to
class the kinds of labor in this first category. —
But if science is not yet well settled as to their
classification, or as to their nomenclature, does it,
at least, now recognize that they all contribute to
production? and does it know how they co-oper-
ate in it? It would be difficult to assert this of
the long category of arts which act directly on
the human race. As to these, we are where
we have long been in §egard to the others. We
know how tardy was the recognition that the
latter participated in the creation of wealth, and
what difficulty there was in discerning how they
participated in it. The truth in regard to this,
which was first admitted in reference to the ex-
tractive arts and agricultural industry, was long
denied in reference to manufactures, and still
longer in regard to the industry of transporta-
tion, improperly called commercial. The Only
real products were those which were the imme-
diate result of the extractive and agricultural
industries. Manufacture transformed them; but
it was supposed, without creating new prod-
ucts, since it took nothing more from the earth.
The industry of transportation changed the places
of things; but still less than manufactures did it
create new products, since those it transported
remained identically the same. It was only after
much difficulty that the matter was relieved of its
confusion, and people were made clearly to per-
ceive how these industries added new values to
existing wealth. — Here is where we now are as to
the arts which act directly on men. People still
deny, at this very day, that they add to the mass
of wealth created. Most books on political econ-
omy, even to the last, including the best,+ have
been written with the supposition that there were
no real riches, or values susceptible of being quali-
fied as wealth, except those which labor had suc-
ceeded in embodying in material objects. Smith
sees scarcely any wealth save in things palpable.
Say starts by designating by the name of wealth,
lands, metals, moneys, grain, dry goods, etc.,
without adding to that enumeration any class of
values not realized in matter. Whenever, accord-
ing to Malthus, wealth is in question, our atten-
tion is drawn almost exclusively to material objects.
The only kinds of labor, according to Rossi, with
which the science of wealth is concerned, are
those which enter into the struggle with matter to
adapt it to our needs. Sismondi does not recog-
nize as wealth products which industry has not
clothed with a material form. Riches, according
* By high arts, M. Dunoyer here refers to such arts as that
of the orator, the actor, the musician, the Sculptor, etc.—
E. J. L.
+ This, however true it may have been when M. Dunoyer
wrote, is, we are happy to say, no longer So, as witness
Macleod’s interesting exposition of the nature of incorporeal
property, and the writings of Whateley, Senior, and others,
J. L.
to Droz, are all the material goods which serve to
satisfy our wants. “The opinion most true,” he
adds, “is that we should see it [i. e., wealth] in all
the material things which serve men.” Finally,
the writer of these lines can not forget that he had
to maintain, only a few months ago [probably writ-
ten in 1863 or 1864.—Translator], a long debate
with several economists, his colleagues in the
academy of moral sciences, without succeeding in
persuading them that there are other riches than
those which are so improperly called material. —
Not only do economists recognize as wealth only
values realized in material objects, but they declare
unproductive the arts which are not exercised on
matter, mentioning by name those which act direct-
ly upon man. Smith, after having enumerated
them, presents them all, from the noblest to the
meanest, as leaving nothing with which one could
afterward purchase an equal quantity of labor.
“Their work,” he adds, “perishes the very instant
of its production.” (“Wealth of Nations,” book
ii., chap. 3.) We have elsewhere cited the opinions
of a list of well-known economists, who all Say
the same thing. Tracy, Malthus, Sismondi, and
James Mill, in speaking of the labor of magistrates,
instructors, priests, Savants, artists, etc., say of
their services that they are productive only at the
moment when they are rendered, and that there
remains nothing of them, or that there remain
only intellectual or moral results, and that people
do not store up that which appertains only to the
soul. Droz, whom we did not mention, after
having represented the arts which act on matter
as the only ones which produce wealth, elsewhere
considers those who work on the mind as not
creating. J. B. Say, who essays an innovation on
this point, represents as productive all the long
category of kinds of labor performed directly on
man; but, from a misapprehension which prevents
him from arriving at the truth, he sees the prod-
ucts of these labors in the works themselves, in-
stead of seeing them where they are, that is to
say, in the useful and lasting results they leave
behind them; and, while qualifying them as pro-
ductive, he is led to say of them all that the others
say to prove that they are not so, namely, that
their products are attached to nothing, that they
perish as fast as they are created, that it is im-
possible to accumulate them, that they add
nothing to the wealth of society, that there are
even disadvantages in multiplying them, and that
the expense incurred to obtain them is unproduc-
tive. — It is very singular, that, while thus in
accord in declaring the arts unproductive which
act directly on the human race, these economists
are unanimous in finding them productive When
they consider them in their consequences, that is
to say, in the utilities, the faculties, the values,
which they finally succeed in realizing in man.
Thus, Adam Smith, after having said, in certain
passages in his book, that literary people, Savants,
and other workers in the same category, are Work-
men whose labor produces nothing, expressly
says elsewhere that “the useful abilities acquired
366
PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
by members of society” (abilities which could
have been acquired only by the aid of these men
whom he calls unproductive) “are a capital fixed
and realized, as it were, in the persons who pos-
sess them, and constitute an essential part of the
general funds of Society—a part of its fixed cap-
ital.” (“Wealth of Nations,” book ii., chap. 1.)
Thus, also, J. B. Say, who says of the same classes
of workers, that their products are are not suscep-
tible of accumulation, and that they add nothing
to the wealth of society, formally pronounces, on
the other hand, that the talent of a public func-
tionary, and that the business of a mechanic
(evidently creations of these men whose products
can not be accumulated), form an accumulated
capital. Thus, M. Sismondi, who, on the one
hand, declares the labors of instructors, etc., un-
productive, affirms positively, on the other hand,
that literary men and artists” (the incontestable
work of these instructors) constitute a part of the
national wealth. Similarly M. Droz, who some-
where makes the observation that it would be
absurd to consider virtue as wealth, properly so
called, terminates his book by saying it would be
falling into a disgraceful error to regard the magis-
tracy which makes justice rule, the savant who
diffuses intelligence, etc., as producing nothing.
It is, however, obvious that the same labor can
not be at once productive and non-productive, result
in products which at the same time perish and
become permanent, which vanish as fast as they are
created, and which accumulate ºn proportion as
they are created; and seeing to what contradictions
the founders of the science are brought on this
capital point, it is easy to recognize that the ques-
tion needs a more Satisfactory explanation than
that which they have given of it. This explana-
tion we have elsewhere produced, and we think it
will compel assent. It arises obviously from the
quite natural distinction to be made between labor
and its results. – It was, as we have said, because
of not having distinguished labor from its results,
that Smith and his principal successors fell into
the contradictions which we have just pointed out,
and that they so badly resolved the question
whether or not the arts, which act directly on
man, should be considered productive. All the
useful occupations, whatever they may be, those
which work upon things as well as those which
operate on men, perform labor which vanishes as
fast as performed, and they all create utility which
is accumulated as fast as it is obtained. It is not
necessary to say, with Smith, that wealth is accu-
mulated labor; we should say that it is accumulated
wtility. It is not labor that one accumulates, it
is the utility which labor produces. The labor
passes away as fast as performed; the utility it
produces remains. – To be sure, the lesson which
a professor gives is consumed while being pro-
duced, the same as the manual labor expended
by the potter on the clay he holds in his hands;
but the ideas inculcated by the professor in the
* M. Dunoyer includes actors, musicians, etc., among art.
lists.-E. J. L.
minds of the men who listen to him, the shape
given to their intelligence, the salutary impres-
Sion wrought on their susceptible faculties, are
products which remain, quite as much as the
form impressed on the clay by the potter. A phy-
Sician gives advice, a judge pronounces a sentence,
an orator delivers a discourse, an artiste sings a
Song or recites a tirade; this is their labor; it is
consumed as fast as produced, like all possible
kinds of labor: but it is not their product, as J. B.
Say erroneously claims: their product, like that of
every kind of producers, is in the result of their
labor, in the useful and durable modifications that
both kinds have wrought on the men upon whom
they have acted, in the health the physician has
restored to his patient, in the morality, the in-
struction, the taste, which the judge, the pro-
fessor, and the artiste have spread. Now, these
products remain, they are susceptible of preserva-
tion and increase, of accumulation; and we can
acquire more or less virtue and knowledge, just as
We can impress upon any portion of matter some
of the utilities which are of a nature to become
fixed in things, and which give them more or less
value. — It is true, that instruction, taste, talents,
are immaterial products; but do we ever create
any other kind? and is it not surprising to see J.
B. Say distinguish between material and immate-
rial, he who has so judiciously remarked that we
can not create matter any more than We can anni-
hilate it, and that in all things we only produce
utilities, values? The form, the figure, the color,
that an artisan gives to rough bodies, are things
just as immaterial as the knowledge that a pro-
fessor communicates to intelligent beings: both
only produce utilities, and the only real difference
that can be observed between their industries, is
that the one aims to modify things, and the other
to modify men. — It can not be said that the labor
of the professor, the judge, the comedian, the
singer, is attached to mothing, nor that nothing re-
mains of it: it is attached to the men upon whom
it operates, and there remain from it the useful
and lasting modifications which it has wrought in
them; just as the labor of the spinner, the weaver,
and the dyer, is realized in the things which
receive it, and leaves upon them the forms, the
figure and the colors which it has impressed on
them. — It can not be said that the values realized
in men, the capacity, industry and talents that
have been communicated to them, are mot SuSCép-
tible of sale. What are not sold, at least in coun-
tries civilized enough to have no more slaves, are
the men in whom human industry has developed
these qualities; but, as to the talents which these
men possess, they are quite susceptible of sale,
and are, in fact, continually being Sold; not, I
readily admit, in kind and in themselves, but
under the form of the services, the labor, and the
instruction which is commonly employed to com-
municate them to others. — No more can we say
that the values which labor succeeds in impressing
upon men are not of a mature to be accumulated: it
is as easy to multiply in ourselves the useful mod-
PRODUCTION
OF WEALTH. 367
ifications of which we are susceptible, as to mul-
tiply, in the things which surround us, the useful
modifications they can receive. — Nor can it any
more be said that there is disadvantage ºn multi-
plying them. What can not be multiplied without
disadvantage, are the expenses necessary in order
to obtain any kind of products whatever; but, as
to the products themselves, it can not surely be
said that there is any disadvantage in increasing
them. We do not hear men complain of having
too much industry, taste, imagination, skill or any
good quality, any more than we hear them com-
plain of possessing too many utilities of any other
kind. — It can not be said that the ea:pense ºncurred
to obtain these products is unproductive. What
would be unproductive, would be the incurring of
needless expense in creating them: but as to the
necessary outlay for that purpose, it is not unpro-
ductive, since it may result in actual wealth, and
in wealth greater than the expense of producing
it. It is surely not rarely that acquired talents
are worth more than the expense incurred to ac-
quire them: it is not impossible that a government
should give rise, by an active and firm adminis-
tration, enlightened by justice, to a value infinitely
superior to the expense required to obtain so val-
uable a result. —It can not, in short, be said that
these products add nothing to the national capi-
tal: they augment it as really as products of any
other kind could do. A capital of mental acquire-
ments or of good habits is worth no less than a
capital of money or of any other kind of values.
A nation has not alone physical wants to be satis-
fied; it naturally experiences many intellectual
and moral wants; and, however little culture it
may have, it will place virtue, instruction and
taste in the category of its most real and most
valuable riches. These things, then, which are
in themselves true wealth, on account of the pure
and elevated pleasures they procure, are, besides,
absolutely indispensable means for obtaining that
Other species of values which we succeed in em-
bodying in material objects. It is not sufficient,
in fact, in order to create these latter values, to pos-
SeSS Workshops, tools, machines, provisions, mon-
eys: there must be strength, health, knowledge,
taste, imagination, good private and social habits;
and the men who work to create and bring to per-
fection these products may justly be considered
producers of the wealth called material, just as
much as those who work directly to create it. It
is obvious, in a word, that if a nation increases
its capital by extending its area of cultivation,
improving its lands, perfecting its workshops, its
implements, and its cattle, still more does it in-
crease it by perfecting itself, that which is pre-
eminently the force, the force which directs and
gives value to all the others. — Will some one be
kind enough to tell us how it is, that, after all this,
any one can maintain that the men whose efforts
are exerted directly in the cultivation of their
fellow-creatures, create products which vanish in
being produced 3 The truth in regard to these
laborers, as well as to all, is, that in the work of
production it is only their labor which vanishes,
and that, as to their products, they are as real as
those those of the classes most manifestly pro-
ductive. What better, in fact, can be done to
increase the capital of a nation, than to multiply
the number of men, vigorous, skillful, educated,
virtuous men, trained to act well and live well?
What wealth, even if we took into account merely
the question of deriving profit from the material
world, could appear superior to this? What wealth
is more capable of giving rise to other kinds?
Now, this is exactly what all classes of laborers
who act directly upon man, produce, different
from those who work for him only by acting on
things. A government, when it is what it ought
to be, is a producer of men subject to public or-
der, and trained to the practice of justice; a true
moralist is a producer of moral men ; a good in-
structor is a producer of instructed and enlightened
men; an artiste worthy of the name is the pro-
ducer of men of taste and of soul, of men trained
to sensibility to all that is good and beautiful; a
teacher of fencing, horsemanship or gymnastics,
is a producer of bold, agile, vigorous men; a phy-
sician is the producer of well men. Or, if we
choose, these various laborers are, according to
the nature of the art they practice, producers of
health, strength, agility, courage, instruction,
taste, morality, sociability—all things which peo-
ple count upon acquiring when they consent to
pay for the services designed to produce them,
and all services whose price is, so to speak, quoted,
having consequently a sale value, and forming
the most valuable and most fecund portion of the
productive forces of society. — These opinions
were published by the author of this article, a
number of years ago (in 1827, in the April num-
ber of the Revue Encyclopédique); and he confesses
that it was not without great surprise, that, re-
ferring lately, at a meeting of the Institute, to
these former remarks, he beheld Savants who were
his colleagues, and, among the number, able pro-
fessors of political economy, combat propositions
so evidently correct, and seriously deny that eco-
nomic science could concern itself with the arts
which act upon man ; relying, to justify their
opinion in that regard, on these two reasons, among
others, viz., that it could not take notice of them
without exceeding its just limits; and that, on the
other hand, it was not possible to make, from the
product of these arts, an article of exchange or of
commerce.—But (to passimmediately on the merits
of the first of these allegations), how, pray, is the
science of political economy naturally limited? Is
it by the nature of the arts alone which they would
have it investigate, or by the general manner in
which it regards all kinds of labor? Does it treat
directly and exclusively of certain arts, for exam-
ple, of those which act on the material world, of
extractive industry, of that of transportation, of
manufacture, or of agriculture? It has to deal
with questions which are peculiar to no art, to
which all arts equally give rise, and which are
the special object of its study: it investigates how
368
OF WEALTH.
PRODUCTION
all kinds contribute to production, what part is
played by the labor of the various orders of
means on which the power of all labor rests, the
separation of occupations, the perfecting of the
instruments employed, the scientific notions, the
talent for applying them, and a number of others
which we refrain from enumerating here: it also
investigates the manner in which the products re-
Sulting from the co-operation of all the social ac-
tivities are distributed among all, by the contri-
vance of exchanges and the aid of everything
that can facilitate them. Now, these questions,
wholly economic, and which it is thought natural
it should discuss relative to the arts exercised on
things, it is obvious it may enter upon, without
departing any more from its object, in reference
to the arts which act directly on man; and if
political economy does not encroach on the in-
struction of the technologist or the agronomist
when it explains how the manufacturer or the
agriculturist adds to the value of the materials he
transforms, it is evident that it no more encroaches
on the labors of the Savant, the artiste, or the
magistrate, when it attempts to show how these
particular orders of workers contribute to the
improvement of the people on whom their influ-
ence is exercised. Certainly, to tell what part a
good division of labor, or the employment of im-
proved instruments, plays in the teaching of the
sciences, is not to devote one's self to teaching
the sciences. Certainly, too, to say the artiste,
the priest, the instructor, can no more do without
security and liberty, than the man who plows his
field or who keeps his workshops in operation, is
neither to be a professor of aesthetics, of morals,
or of pedagogy. Finally, it is manifest, that to
raise an economic question in relation to the arts
which act upon man, is no more to go outside of
the bounds of political economy, than it is going
outside to treat that question in its relation to the
arts whose activity is expended on matter. — And
not only does the economist no more go out from
his domain when he concerns himself, from an
economic point of view, with the arts whose ac-
tivity is devoted to the education of the human
race, than he goes out of it when he gives his at-
tention to those which act on things; but we must
say, that, to completely fill his rôle, he must con-
cern himself with all, without distinction. There
is not one, in fact, which does not indispensably
need the co-operation of all the others; and the
economist would have only a very incomplete
idea of the phenomenon of production, and of
all the means on which the powers of production
are based, if he did not know how every kind of
labor that the economy of society comprises, par-
ticipates in it. The economist, in a word, must
necessarily be instructed in two things: the first
is, that man can not be developed in one respect
alone; that he can not become rich exclusively;
that, in order to become rich, he must also
become skillful, trained, enlightened, polished,
moral, social; and the second is, that there is not
one of these happy qualities which is not a direct
source of wealth to the arts which procure them
for him; that the savant, the artiste, the magis-
trate and the moralist enrich themselves while
laboring for his education, just as the mechanic
and the agriculturist do while adjusting material
nature to his wants. – But, they say (and this is
the second objection brought against us), political
economy treats essentially of eachangeable wealth;
and, for it to concern itself with the high arts
which labor for the education of man, they
should give rise to products which could be a cur-
rent article of exchange. Now, what do, in fact,
come from them, even on the supposition that
they succeed in forming men who are well taught,
able, honest, capable of rendering services in all
respects excellent? and where are the products
susceptible of being exchanged, in which their
labor is realized? The answer naturally arises
from the question. These products are in the
very aptitudes they give the men on whom their
labor is expended, and in the services these apti-
tudes permit them to render. These services are
not palpable products, it is true; but have the
only arts with which some persons think political
economy should concern itself, the arts which act
on the material world, only this kind of products
to offer? Do not these people know that the
larger part of their agents present themselves on
the market with only labor, that they have only
services to offer? And if one will please consider
that labor, industry and human services are a
current article, a constant article, a universal arti-
cle, of exchange, will he deny that the arts,
whose mission is to form men adapted to render
services, contribute as much as those of any other
class to bring exchangeable products into market?
Do not the wholeºworld know that there is a trade
in services going on, as considerable as that in ma-
terial things adapted to serve? And do they not
also know that the most material of products have
been acquired only in view of the services they
can render, and that in reality it is only Services
which are bought and sold 7–This surely is un-
deniable; and if political economy can justly be
reproached with not having made a sufficiently
exact and complete classification of the kinds of
labor acting on material nature, which contribute
to production, it may still more justly be re-
proached with not having also been able to admit
into the number of productive arts the classes
of labor, so important and so numerous, whose
united activity is devoted to the cultivation of
the human race. It is certain, that, in Order to
have a sufficient idea of the phenomenon of pro-
duction, it should embrace them all and investi-
gate both without distinction. There may indeed
be something in this enlargement of the domain
of the science of political economy, to disconcert
a little those who cultivate its acquaintance; and
we can understand, that, after having made the
products clothed with material forms and the
kinds of labor which create that sort of products
the exclusive object, thus far, of their investiga-
tions, it costs them somewhat to extend their at-
*
PRODUCTION
OF WEALTH. " 369
tention to the more complicated arts, which con-
cern man and products so different, which are
put into circulation under the form of services;
but it is nevertheless true, that, to well compre-
hend the phenomenon of production, they must
particularly investigate this class of products and
of labors, and there is likewise an additional rea-
Son for making them the subject of especial in-
vestigation, in the little attention they have hith-
erto accorded them. — We will add, that, if it is
necessary to investigate equally all the kinds of
labor embraced in the economy of society, in
Order to have an adequate conception of the
phenomenon in question, it is not less so to have
accurate and complete knowledge upon the co-
Operation of what means the power of labor nat-
urally depends; and that on this second point, as
We showed at the commencement of this article,
the economists have not yet succeeded in coming
to an agreement any more than on the first. If
they have not made it sufficiently appear what all
the trades and professions are which it is essential
for political economy to investigate, neither have
they sufficiently shown, at least as it seems to us,
by what means the various kinds of business
produce, and in the combination of what causes
lies the potency of their action. That illustri-
ous man, J. B. Say, the one of these writers,
who, in our opinion, has made the most learned
exposition, the most detailed and most extend-
ed analysis, of the general means of industry,
appears to us, nevertheless, to have fallen far
short of having made a complete list of them,
or even, in many respects, an accurate list. --- To
begin with, before entering upon an examination
of that analysis, we will express our regret, in
common with some other economists, that J. B.
Say should have assigned several causes as the
Origin of production, and represented that man
was indebted for the acquisitions he has made, not
alone to his efforts, without which, however, the
forces of nature, beginning with his own facul-
ties, would have been of no value to him, but to ||
his efforts simultaneously with the co-operation of
nature and of capital, which, according to J. B.
Say, have labored for his progress conjointly with
himself. “There exists something else than hu-
man labor in the work of production,” he says.
* * Industry, left to itself, could not give value
to things; it must possess products already ex-
isting, without which, however skillful we may
suppose it to be, it would remain inactive: it is
necessary, besides, that nature should combine
her labor with it and with its instruments.” Hu-
man industry, according to J. B. Say, never
figures as more than one-third in the act of produc-
tion. In every product a part of the result ob-
tained comes from nature, and another part from
Capital. — We fear, as we have already said else-
where, that in thus assigning to production several
primordial causes, J. B. Say has brought con-
fusion where he desired to introduce greater order,
and that, far from throwing light on the subject,
he has made the primitive source of all our prog-
143 VOL. III. – 24
ress more obscure. We think, with Adam Smith,
and particularly with M. de Tracy, who on this
subject was still more clear than Smith, that labor
has been the only generating cause. — To be sure,
human activity is not the only force there is in
nature. Outside of that, there exists a multitude
of others, which man has no more created than
he has created his own faculties, and which he
could no more annihilate, and whose existence is
wholly distinct from and independent of his.
There are dead forces, and there are living ones.
The hardness, the strength, the ductility of cer-
tain metals, are inert forces. The sun, water, fire,
wind, gravitation, magnetism, electricity, the
vegetative force of the soil, the vital force of
animals, are active forces. But if such forces
exist, external to man, there is nothing in them
which announces that they exist for him; and,
left to themselves, they would show themselves
perfectly indifferent to his happiness. For them
to serve him, he must bend them to his service;
for them to produce, he must force them to pro-
duce. To be sure, man does not create them; but
he creates the utility that they are to him: he
creates them as agents of production, as produc-
tive forces. It is also true that he has to take
more or less trouble for that: every kind of steel
is not equally suitable to make a file; every kind
of soil can not be rendered equally adapted to
vegetation; but he must put his hand to all things,
and nothing is arranged by nature to serve him.
How could the qualities of iron have been of serv-
ice to production, if industry had not been able to
separate the metal from the ore, and impress upon
it the form suited to render its qualities useful?
How could the wind have served to turn a mill-
stone without the fans of the mill? How could
the magnetic fluid haye served to direct navigators,
without the invention of the mariner's compass?
How would the rain and the sun make plants
germinate, without the previous labor which pre-
sents to the dew of heaven and the warmth of the
solar rays a plat of land suitably plowed, ma-
nured, prepared and sown? These agents and
many others, in short, are equally at the disposal
of all men: of what use are they to the savage
who has not learned how to derive advantage
from them? Yet again, the forces of nature exist
independently of human labor; but relatively to
man, and as agents of production, they exist only
in human industry, and in the instruments by
means of which industry has taken hold of them.
This it is which has created these instruments
and directs their use; this is the only source from
which have sprung, not things, nor the properties
of things, but all the utility which man derives
from things and from their properties. – J. B. Say
is then wrong, we think, in saying that wealth
originally came from the combination of three
forces, industry, capital and natural agents, among
which he gives land an important place. Indus-
try, he says, would have remained inactive, with-
out the aid of pre-existing capital. But, if this
is so, it is no longer conceivable how it was able
370
PRODUCTION OF WEALTH,
to begin to act; for it is very evident that the ex-
istence of capital could not precede the labor
which gave rise to it. To appropriate things to
his use, man had at first only his native faculties,
his instincts, his intelligence and his hands. Soon,
by the aid of these levers he procured others: he
put tools in his fingers; he substituted machines
for tools; he added to his forces those of animals,
metals, water, fire and wind. By degrees all the
powers of nature, some being subjugated by
others, under the intelligent direction he gave
them, entered his service without disturbance, and
began to work for him. The capital thus com-
posed of the combined forces which he added to
the little he had on coming from the hands of
nature, and including, of course, the successive
developments of his own faculties, is of human
creation. A piece of land is, as M. Tracy well
observes, like a block of marble or a mass of min-
eral, only a certain portion of matter, endowed
with certain properties, and which man may dis-
pose of, and has disposed of, as with a multi-
tude of other things, so as to render its prop-
erties useful. Man does not create this matter,
nor the properties it has, any more than he cre-
ates matter or the properties of matter, from
which are formed a hundred other kinds of cap-
ital; but he creates, by his successive efforts, the
power to derive advantage from both: he creates
them as instruments of production, and these
forces which J. B. Say represents as acting from
the beginning conjointly with human industry,
are themselves, at least as instruments of pro-
duction, creations of industry, and ought to be
included in the list of means which it has given
itself, and of agents which it has made for itself,
while it has developed its own forces. Conse-
quently, and let us note well the fact, it is not
necessary to go outside of human activity, to find
the origin of the powers which human labor pos-
sesses. It is from this that everything visibly
proceeds, and no other force is perceptible at the
beginning. In other words, man has created all
his powers, beginning with those he has derived
from himself and from the marvelous faculties
whose germ Heaven placed within him. He
has created, I repeat, neither these faculties nor
the forces throughout nature; but all the power
that he has of deriving from both, he has, I say,
given himself. — Then, after having thus referred
the forces which J. B. Say represents as acting
from the beginning conjointly with man, to a place
among the general means of production that man
has created, we will repeat that M. Say has made,
and others after him will continue to make, fol-
lowing his example, an analysis of these means
which appears to us neither sufficiently complete
nor even sufficiently accurate. — We will observe,
in the first place, that the author of the Traité
d’Economie Politique excludes from the mass of
its productive funds, as the author of the “Wealth
of Nations” had done, all that part of the general
fund of society which is employed in satisfying
public or private, particular or general, wants.
no part of it.
This is the natural consequence of the error which
makes them consider the arts which act on man
unproductive. Thus all that portion of the social
fund which individuals employ in maintaining
their physical strength, increasing their intellect-
ual faculties, improving their moral habits, bring-
ing up children who will some day be of help to
them, would, according to J. B. Say, constitute
no part of their means of production. And, in
like manner, all that part of the same fund em-
ployed in satisfying public wants, as for example,
maintaining order in the community, creating
habitual respect among its members for person-
al and property rights, procuring instruction for
classes which would not naturally receive it,
would also not constitute any part of the produc-
tive forces of society. All these would serve to
satisfy demands, to be sure, and very imperious
demands; all these would be productive of utility
and gratification, but not of wealth: the service
people made of them would add nothing to the
wealth and forces of society. — This affects us,
we acknowledge, as one of the most obvious of
errors. It is absolutely impossible for us to admit
that the portion of his means that a manufacturer
employs in keeping his manufactory in repair,
constitutes a part of his productive capital; and
that that which he employs in maintaining him-
self, the head of the manufactory and the prime
agent of manufacturing production, constitutes
It is impossible for us to ad-
mit that the buildings and the food which an
agronomist employs for the preservation of his
beasts of burden should constitute a part of his
productive capital; and that his dwelling house,
his furniture, his clothing, his food, and all that
part of his wealth which is employed to keep
him, and he himself, the head and the prime
agent of agricultural production, constitute no
part of it. There are, quite probably, a certain
number of men in society incurably worthless,
either absolute do-nothings, or employing the little
activity they have, in preserving their existence,
seeking enjoyment, and procuring for themselves
agreeable sensations. We are quite willing that
all that part of the capital of society which is em-
ployed in maintaining such beings should be
struck off from its productive funds. But if there
are many people in the world who live only for
pleasure, happily a still greater number live to
act, and make their happiness consist in some
profitable employment of their powers; and who,
in fact, habitually use them in a way that really
benefits humanity. Now, we can not compre-
hend, we say, how any one can strike out from
the productive capital of society the part of its
funds it employs in suitably maintaining these
men, these who are assuredly the most valuable,
the most noble, the most fruitful of all its products,
the one without which no other would exist.
Everything that a worthless man expends for the
satisfaction of his wants is lost: nothing results
from it but the maintenance of a useless man.
Everything that a useful man gives to his pleas-
PRODUCTION
OF WEALTH.
371
ures, without any advantage to the increase or
preservation of his faculties, is equally lost: noth-
ing remains of that expense. But what the same
individual devotes to the maintenance or the in-
crease of his powers, however little the forces
preserved or acquired may be worth above the
outlay in preserving or acquiring them, is repro-
ductively employed, and constitutes part of his
means of production: of this there can be no
doubt. —In this mass of means of every kind, of
which the general productive fund of society is
composed, Smith had already discerned a great
number of means and of forces : he had seen
those prime materials more or less raw, and those
more or less worked; tools and machines of every
sort designed to shorten or to facilitate labor;
buildings devoted to every kind of labor; lands
brought into the condition most suited for culti-
vation and tillage; a great number of talents and
much useful knowledge acquired by the members
of society; a certain total of moneys designed to
facilitate exchanges, etc.; and, of all these means,
he had composed two classes of capital, fixed cap-
ital and circulating capital, both designed to main-
tain that fund for consumption from which men
derive all the means of preserving and improving
their existence. — J. B. Say has gone farther than
Smith, and done better in some respects. He first
divides the productive funds of society into two
great divisions, one of which is composed of the
industrial faculties of the laborers, and the oth-
er of their implements. Then he distinguishes,
among the industrial faculties, that of the Savants,
that of business managers, that of workmen: and,
among the instruments, the natural agents not
appropriated, such as the Sea, the atmosphere, the
heat of the sun, and all the powers of physical
nature; the appropriated natural agents, such as
cultivable lands, regular watercourses, mines in the
way of exploitation, etc.; and the different kinds
of capital, among which he distinguishes unpro-
ductive capital, capital productive of utility and
of gratification, and capital truly productive ;
dividing again the latter into fived and circulating,
and giving particular attention to capital which
exists in the form of machines, and that which
exists in the form of moneys; while Smith only
describes the functions of money, and does not
speak of the influence of machines. Such is the
analysis of J. B. Say. —It is surely having made
progress in analyzing this vast mass of levers and
forces of every kind of which the general pro-
ductive funds of society is composed, to have dis-
tinguished the industrial faculties themselves from
the industrial implements. But, while firmly main-
taining that essential and excellent distinction be-
tween industry and its implements, or, rather,
while forming two well-separated classes of the
natural and acquired powers which man possesses
in himself, and of those which he has appropriated
to himself from all nature, and that it depends
upon him to add to those he draws from his own
resources, we think there is a better analysis to be
made of both. Let us speak first of those which
exist in man himself. — J. B. Say only remarks
here a fund of industrial faculties. We shall soon
See that there is in him something else than indus-
try, and something, too, which, in the interest of
production, it is important to observe. But we
will first investigate the industrial funds. J. B.
Say only distinguishes among industrial funds the
three classes of talents of the Savant, the business
manager and the workman, or, rather, of theory,
administration and eaecution. The first observa-
tion that occurs to the mind, is, that he here con-
founds two very distinct orders of faculties, which
it was essential to keep as separate as possible, viz.,
those which pertain to the understanding and man-
agement of affairs, and those which relate to the
execution and the art. — The talent for affairs is
composed of several sorts of important faculties
which J. B. Say has not described, or even desig.
nated, and of which it was, nevertheless, essential
to speak; for they occupy a high rank and play a
very important part in all kinds of labor, without
exception, which the economy of society embraces.
This is a considerable omission. The Order which
J. B. Say assigns to science, in the faculties which
pertain to art, is not, I think, the true one: things,
in this world, did not begin by theory; a certain
practical acquaintance with a trade preceded sci-
entific instruction. People began by acting empir-
Žcally; then came theoretical knowledge; then the
talent for applications, which J. B. Say places
among the attributes of the business man, and
which is much more in the domain of art; finally,
the eaecution has followed the thought, and has
been more or less skillful, according as the thought
itself has become more elaborated, and as it has be-
come more natural and more familiar. In all this,
as we can See, whether it is a question of business
or of art, the only things concerned are address,
skill, knowledge and capacity. — But how is this!
are these, then, all there is in man? or does he need
no other faculties in order for production? Is he
not quite as susceptible of morality as of knowl-
edge? And should we not regard as indispensable
that his good abilities should be aided by good
breeding, if it is permissible to designate by the
familiar phrases, good abilities and good breeding,
the whole of the intellectual and moral means of
which the powers of the human race are com-
posed? Is a fund of good moral habits any less
necessary to the work of production than a fund
of industrial faculties? Here again, we say, there
seems to us an important and much-to-be regretted
omission in the analysis which Smith, J. B. Say,
and their successors have made of the general
means of production. One can already perceive
how much this analysis leaves to be desired in
what touches upon the social fund, that which is
composed of all the forces which laborers have
developed in themselves. Let us pass on to the
account of those which they have fixed and ac-
cumulated in things. –We have said that here
J. B. Say distinguished unappropriated natural
agents, appropriated natural agents, and capitals.
We will here, to confirm our first remarks, call
372 t
PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
attention to the fact that the forces which he desig-
nates by the term unappropriated natural agents,
such as all the laws of physical nature, could not
be considered as instruments of industry, so long
as man could not get hold of their power. These
agents really exist for him only in the labors, the
works, the machines, by means of which he has
succeeded in getting hold of them and applying
them to his ends. We think we have already
rendered this truth palpable. From the moment
it is perceived that there are no natural agents for
man, except those he has himself got hold of, that
he has succeeded in imprisoning in his sails, his
gearing, his ingenious and innumerable mechan-
isms, and which he has made his own by previous
and adequate labors of appropriation, it is clear that
no such distinction is to be made as unappropriat-
ed and appropriated agents. To human industry,
only appropriated agents really exist. —In the list
of appropriated agents, we discover absolutely no
reason for making two separate classes of capitals
and land. Nothing, in fact, seems to distinguish
the vegetable or mineral land from the other ob-
jects in nature of which man has taken posses-
sion, which he has put to his service, in which he
has accumulated and capitalized more or less of
values; and we can see no more reason for inves-
tigating, as J. B. Say has done, how capital and
land unite to produce industry, than to call atten-
tion to the manner in which industry, capital and
currents of air or currents of water, or vapor, or
the sun, or any other such agent of nature which
man has been able to associate with his labor in
any manner whatever, combine for the same
object. The special distinction of land, in the
number of appropriated agents, should then be
put aside. — In the mass of forces within and
without himself which man has appropriated to
his service, or, to employ language which desig-
nates all these forces by one single word, in the
mass of capitals, J. B. Say distinguishes unpro-
ductive; productive of utility and gratification;
and productive of wealth, or, simply, productive.
Unproductive capitals (and by these J. B. Say
means all buried treasure and unemployed capi-
tal), unproductive capitals, we say, scarcely merit
figuring in an analysis of the instruments of pro-
duction. They are, it is true, a potential force:
they are capable of being employed; but so long
as they remain inactive, they are as if they did
not exist, and can hardly be included in an anal-
ysis of the Social forces. All that part of capitals
productive of utility and gratification, which is
employed in frivolous or harmful expenses, merits
still less being included in the mass of instruments
of industry. All that which, on the contrary,
serves to bring up useful men, to preserve, extend
and improve their faculties, is, as we have ex-
plained above, eminently productive, and demands
to be ranked among the most valuable and the
most effective means of production. There re-
main, then, simply, productive capitals, which Say
distinguishes from natural agents, in which he
includes neither land, mines nor water courses,
and among which he ranks neither the material of
public administration nor the dwelling houses of
private citizens, nor their furniture, their clothing,
their books, or anything that serves directly for
the education of the human race, and in the nam-
ing of which, on the contrary, we need not hesi-
tate to combine all the material elements of human
industry, all the external forces that it has em-
ployed, all the means of action, outside of itself,
which it has learned to draw upon and appropriate
to its ends, and to which it has been able to give
a useful direction. — We will only remark, that,
even in comprehending thus under the term capi-
tal all the external instruments of industry, we
would still be giving to that appellation too re-
stricted an application, and that it is proper to
combine under this word all the forces whatso-
ever that man has accumulated and that he can
employ in acquiring new ones: that a nation’s
capital is composed of the forces it has accumu-
lated within itself, quite as much as of those
which it has put itself in a position to derive
from things; that we may say, and we must say,
a capital of knowledge and of good habits, just
as we say a capital in money, and that J. B. Say
should have been the less averse to this language,
because he calls man an accumulated capital, and
applies the term accumulated capital to the talent
of a workman, an administrator, or an officer.
Consequently, man and the world being given,
such as they were at the beginning, it is necessary,
starting with the active intelligence of the human
race as the primordial cause from which all our
resources have sprung, to consider as capital, not
any particular instruments which man has appro-
priated, rather than certain others, but all the use-
ful forces of every kind, which he has succeeded
in developing either in himself or in the things by
which he is surrounded, or which he has converted
to his use. This being stated, and these various
remarks made, here are what seem to us to be
the composition of the capital or general pro-
ductive funds of society, what the various orders
of means we discover in it, and the total of the
causes with which, in our opinion, the productive
power of all kinds of labor is connected. — In the
first place, the social fund or capital is divided, we
think, into two great classes of forces: that which
labor has developed in men, and that which it
has realized in things. The effective power of all
kinds of labor comes from the combination of the
two classes. In the number of powers which men
have succeeded in developing in themselves, the
first which strikes us, that which naturally takes
a place at the head of all the others, that which
is most indispensable to the success of all enter-
prises and the well-directed action of all the arts,
is the genºus for affairs, a talent in which we
discover several very distinct faculties, such as
capacity for judging of the state of demand
or knowing the wants of Society; that of judg-
ing of the state of supply, or estimating the ex-
isting means of satisfying these demands; that
of administering with ability enterprises wisely
PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
373
conceived; and finally, that of verifying, by reg-
ular accounts, intelligently kept, the previsions of
speculation. After this list of faculties relating
to the conception and the conduct of enterprises,
and of which the genius for affairs is composed,
those which are needed for execution, and from
which is formed the genºus for art, next present
themselves. Such are a practical knowledge of a
trade, theoretical notions, a talent for applications,
and skill in workmanship. — All these faculties
are industrial. But, again, are these all? No,
certainly not; and if, in the fund of the personal
faculties of workmen, we discover a great variety
of industrial forces, we also remark there a great
number of moral qualities. We distinguish in
them all that series of habits which guide them in
their conduct in regard to themselves, and which
concern in some sort only the individual. We
also distinguish there all that series of habits of
another order, which govern relations and which
interest society more particularly. The effective
power and the free action of all branches of busi-
ness depend in the highest degree, as might easily
be shown, on the perfection of both. We could
not take too much pains to note and call attention
to the happy influence exerted in all kinds of la-
bor, by good private morals in laborers and the
improvement of their habits as citizens.— Finally,
outside of these various orders of faculties to
which labor has given rise in men, and which
form, in some sort, the intellectual and moral capi-
tal of society, its fund of personal faculties, we
perceive a multitude of utilities, forces, levers,
powers, which it has succeeded in fixing in things,
and which form, if one chooses so to call it, its
real or material capital. In this part of its general
funds we perceive, under countless aspects, lands
cleared, plowed and planted, regular watercourses,
canals, routes, enclosures, constructions, build-
ings, machines, tools, raw products, provisions,
moneys, wages, and an infinite variety of instru-
ments and means of action of every kind. All
these, variously brought together, form multitudes
of establishments, workshops for labor; and if
we very attentively observe these workshops, we
notice that, however truly appropriated they may
be to their object, it is essential that they be well
situated, well organized, that labor in them be
skillfully distributed, and that they be provided
with a sufficient quantity of well-selected tools,
materials, and supplies of various sorts. – Such
is the analysis of which this general fund of soci-
ety, where are found in deposit all our faculties
and all our resources, seems to us susceptible; and
such are the various elements of power which we
there discover. It would now be necessary, in
order to complete the exposition of the important
phenomenon which this article aims to describe,
to show what particular influence each of the
means we have just pointed out, exerts in produc-
tion. This is a task which we have performed in
our work on “Freedom of Labor,” from which
we have taken almost literally a considerable por-
tion of the remarks that have just been read, and
nearly two volumes of which are devoted to ex-
plaining either the part which these means play
in labor in general, or the diversity of the applica-
tions that are made of them in the various kinds
of labor that social economy embraces; and it
would be impossible for us to give here, even in
a summary, any adequate idea of that analysis.
We can only refer the reader to that book. — It
has been remarked, that, in so extended an analysis
as this of the means of labor, we had omitted to
speak of the most considerable of all, namely, capi-
tal. As if, beginning as we did, with the natural
faculties of man, and enumerating the various
orders of forces that he had developed in himself,
or had appropriated from without, we could have
spoken, and did in fact speak, of anything else!
Asif, under their own names, the various Orders of
intellectual, moral or material means that we had
pointed out, could be and were anything but dif-
ferent portions of the capital of society! As if, in
short, after having spoken successively of all, one
particular class of forces or of resources could re-
main to be treated of, under the name of capital,
especially when we had said, in terms so explicit,
that this term capital did not apply to any one
kind particularly, and that it embraced without
distinction all the means of production that man
had accumulated around him and within himself!
— No; our error, if such it is, consists in having
discarded, at the outset, that trinity of land, labor
and capital, which the school makes assist simul-
taneously in the beginning of all our acquisitions
of wealth and of forces; which appeared to us to
be a cause of trouble and confusion in the expo-
sition of the science; which, while leading to use-
less explanations, had in our eyes the error of be-
ing at the same time incorrect and inadequate,
and, taking man and the world in their primordial
state, of having made everything arise from the
activity of the human race acting at the same
time on things and on itself. But, taking thus
our starting point in the activity of man, we have
the consciousness of having omitted none of the
great categories of productive forces that he has
developed in the external world and in himself,
no portion of the social capital; and we think we
have made a more complete and true analysis of
the general instruments of labor, as well as of the
kinds of labor which social economy embraces,
than we had found in the best books on the Sci-
ence. — We will only say, in closing, that pro-
duction does not alone derive its forces from the
various categories of personal faculties and mate-
rial means which have just been enumerated, but
also from all the great orders of labor which soci-
ety contains; that there is not one of them which
is not indispensable to the activity of all the others,
and that, to make the phenomenon of production
fully comprehended, one would have to designate
the place that each of these kinds of labor occu-
pies in society, the part it performs there, the
mutual assistance they render one another, etc.
This is what we endeavored to do in the work on
“Freedom of Labor,” which we have already
374
|
PRODUCTS ON PAPER.
mentioned, and to which we are obliged again to
refer the reader.
. E. J. L., Tr. CH. DUNOYER.
PRODUCTS ON PAPER.3% A. Curious off-
shoot of the growth of this century is found in
the multiplication of so-called “exchanges.” The
original idea of an “exchange” was a mart where
a man with Some definite commodity to sell could
always find a buyer at some price, and where a
man wanting to buy some definite commodity
could always find a seller at some price. Thus,
in their origin, “exchanges” were economic bless-
ings, for they brought about between buyer and
Seller a maximum of nearness, with a minimum
of friction. As “exchanges” grew, their origi-
mal object pretty nearly vanished, and, instead of
being marts, where commodities are exchanged,
they have become places where bets on prices may
be made, recorded and paid. – In exchange jar-
gon the only term now used, which indicates the
original object of “exchanges,” is “cash sales; ”
the rest savor of their degeneration, or, at least, of
their change. “Shorts,” “longs,” “puts,” “calls,”
* With the principles, moral and politico-economical,
which this article implies, no one will disagree. Yet, while
there is much that is only too true in the views of the writer,
more than enough to warrant its publication in a strictly sci-
entific work, there are some things in which no economist
can agree with him. The two exaggerations into which the
writer has fallen, are, first, his apparently wholesale con-
demnation of “exchanges”; and, then, his seemingly equally
wholesale condemnation of speculation. He plainly con-
founds the use of both with their abuse. “Exchanges,”
though abused, are far from having departed entirely from
their original purpose. They are still real markets, with
some who deal in them, like all other markets; with this
difference, however, that commodities are not carried thither
in kind, and that transactions are closed in them, for goods
previously examined or supposed to have been examined or
represented by samples. –It is by means of “exchanges *
that brokers are enabled to bring buyers and sellers together,
which, after all, constitutes the whole of business. The
utility of these meetings can not be denied, spite of the
ab ises with which they are almost inevitably connected;
They enable merchants to save the time which they would
otherwise have to employ in journeys, to and fro, to meet
each other. Then, they obviate, in certain cases, for the
buyer or seller, the disadvantage it might be to him, to be
the first to take steps to meet the other. Business men will
appreciate this practically ; better, perhaps, than political
economists, theoretically. And so with speculation. A
speculator, in the non-abused sense of the term, is nothing
more or less than a person who buys commodities or other
exchangeable things, when he thinks that their prices have
fallen below their real value, and has reason to believe that
at a future time he will be able to sell them at a higher rate
than that at which he bought them. The difference between
the price which he buys them at, and the price at which he
sells them again, should cover the interest on the sum in-
vested, the costs of storage, etc.; it should, further, cover the
risk incurred in the purchase, and pay a just Compensation
for the personal labor of the man making the operation.
When this care is taken, speculation is entirely legitimate;
but in all cases of speculation, there should be, to render it
legitimate, an actual and not an entirely fictitious investment
of capital. Speculation acts like the governor in a steam
engine ; it prevents the too great fluctuation of prices, in
which respect it serves both producers and consumers. It
intervenes in favor of producers by increasing the demand,
when prices go below the cost of production; in favor of
consumers, it prevents too great a rise in prices by throwing
the products of producers on the market when there is a scar-
city of them. (See ExCHANGE, AN; SPECULATION.)—ED.
“straddles,” “spreads,” “options,” “privileges,”
and the like, are not indicative of commerce, but of
Speculation pure and simple. —Taking the annual
reports of the leading exchanges of the country,
it is manifest that the majority of transactions
are only bets; because far greater quantities of
cotton, corn, wheat, petroleum, etc., are annually
sold than the soil produces. It follows, then,
that in our so-called “exchanges,” the business of
members is not so much to exchange commodi-
ties, either for themselves or their constituents,
as to exchange opinions, and to fix a pecuniary
penalty on the party who happens to be wrong,
making it payable to the party who happens to
be right. Dealing in these opinions may be very
accurately called ‘‘trading in products on paper.”
If the word speculation be preferred, it means, in
its nakedness, giving the producer of food, cloth-
ing, shelter, etc., the least possible for what he
produces, and in making the consumer pay the
most possible for what he eats, wears, builds, etc.
Speculation produces nothing by itself, neither
does it consume anything by itself: hence, the
most flattering term we can give it, is to call it
the middlemanism of trade. Speculation has
never, and can never, benefit any country; the
more rampant it has been, is, or may be, the worse
its effects. Historically, look at the “South sea
bubble,” the craze for French assignats, the
mania for Dutch tulips, etc., etc. — Commerce is
the exchange of facts; speculation is a chase of
phantoms. It follows that the more time people
devote to phantom-chasing, the less they have for
the securing of facts. Suppose every man, wo-
man and child in this country should to-day turn
Speculator, or dealer in products on paper, how
much corn, wheat, cotton, pork, etc., would be
produced? To-day’s stock would be the maxi-
mum supply, and it would dwindle shortly to the
Zero point. Reverse the position, and assume that
all dealers in products on paper should engage in
producing or distributing the products of the
soil, would there be any fewer mouths to feed, or
backs to clothe? Would we have a bale less cot-
ton, or a bushel less wheat?—The flimsy argu-
ment that speculation affords labor a certain mar-
ket hardly needs refuting. What sort of a mar-
ket does speculation cause to exist? It is bound,
by the nature of things, to injure labor either in
its so-called producing or consuming phase. Has
any system of trading any excuse for existence,
when the best that can be said of it is, that it
necessarily does something bad? The moral effect
of dealing in products on paper it always debas-
ing; for such dealings lead to idleness, and the
road from idleness to vice is an air-line with a
single steel-laid track. — “Quick come, quick
go,” is a truth as old as the stars; and the win-
nings made by dealing in products on paper are
far more apt to be dissipated than the slower re-
turns of legitimate ventures. A more practical
way of regarding trading in products on paper is
to examine how the busineSS is done. In a ma-
jority of cases the man who promises to deliver
PROFITS.
375
what he does not possess, deposits in the hands
of a third party some valuable thing, that is,
some product of labor, as a guarantee of his sin-
cerity. In exchange jargon this is called a “mar-
gin,” and is but a fraction of the valuable things
he has promised to deliver. Against this deposit,
the man who promises to receive what he does
not want, deposits a similar “margin.” What
mean these so-called “margins”? Are they not
practically the same as the “stakes” wagered on
a horse-race or a cock-fight? The conclusion,
then, is forced upon us, that trading in products
on paper amounts to gambling, more Or less re-
fined, and is as far removed from legitimate com-
merce as the equator from either pole. By prom-
ising to buy and receive that which he does not
want, a speculator may make higher prices for
producers; so much the worse for consumers.
By promising to sell and deliver what he has not,
he may make lower prices for consumers; so
much the worse for producers. — All production
is the result of labor, capital, and some natural
agent. Consumption is the same, for nothing
can be consumed unless something equal be pro-
duced. Denying this, we must deny the inde-
structibility of matter. The equation of exchange,
then, is P (or production) = C (or consumption):
now, if we add or subtract products on paper
from either side of the equation, we get P + S-C,
or C+ S = P, either of which is absurd; for two
things equal to one another can not remain equal
to one another when either be increased or di-
minished, while the other remains unchanged.
Reducing one and increasing the other makes the
equation of exchange still more absurd. Unless
it be claimed that production can exist without
consumption, or consumption without produc-
tion, it follows, mathematically, that speculation
must injure labor. —If a man have 100 bushels
of wheat, the product of his labor, and I have
ten gold eagles, the product of my labor, and we
exchange each for each, the equation of exchange
is labor =labor; if, however, I bet the man own-
ing the wheat that within sixty days my money
will buy 110 bushels of wheat instead of 100, and
he bets to the contrary, the only exchange is one
of opinion. At the end of the sixty days either
I have some of his wheat and have given nothing
for it, or he has some of my money and has no
return to make. In either case something has
been sliced from somebody’s labor. Philosophi-
cally speaking, then, trading in products on paper
benefits labor in no respect. — And now let us see
how it affects capital. Many speculators borrow
money (which is capital in its most active form),
but they borrow it on the products of others'
labor, not on labor of their own. If the dealer in
products on paper had not “middlemanized,” the
same amount of labor's product would call for
the aid of capital to move it from a point of
abundance to one of Scarcity. If a thousand
bushels of wheat passed through a thousand
hands, it would never be but a thousand bushels
of wheat. — Speculation has for its vade mecum,
the doctrine of chances. Commerce seeks to actu-
ally have those things which people actually want.
The hinges of speculation are two ifs; the hinges
of commerce are two facts. Speculation is the
subjunctive mood of the verb “to trade”; com-
merce is the indicative. — A lighted lamp during
a summer's night draws countless moths and
other insects; the brighter it burns, the more there
are drawn : So it is with speculation ; its lurid
light attracts only to destroy, and its most certain
victims are those who, in their first flight around
it, feel only an exhilarating warmth. The small-
est of the hovering unfortunates generally burn
first, but, sooner or later, a common cremation
furnace is the end of all. — As speculators neither
produce anything, nor consume anything, and,
like all others, must live, it follows that they must
either live on outsiders, or, like fishes, on one
another. — The world has no record of a specu-
lator who died happy and respected. All one
trader in products on paper wins, another must
lose ; the grand law of commerce, the law of
mutual benefit, can not exist between traders in
product on paper ; the knife of every one is
against the throat of every other; to take all, and
give nothing, is the object of all. —If, then, no
one can gain without somebody losing in trading
in products on paper, it seems fair to conclude
that such trading will never add a whit to the
wealth of nations. T. T. BRYCE.
PROFITS. The theory of profits, as devel-
oped by the leading English economists, has been
simple but inadequate. Starting from English
agriculture as a type of productive industry, they
have divided the returns into rent, wages and
profits; have described profits as the surplus re-
maining after rent and wages are paid; and have
analyzed this surplus into the three elements of
interest, insurance and wages of superintendence.
This treatment has caused several mistakes. It
has led men to speak of profits as an element in
the cost of production in the same way that wages
is an element. It has led them to think that what
is here called wages of superintendence is properly
classed with ordinary wages. It has been based
on a circle in the definitions: for after defining
rent as what is left after wages and profits are
satisfied, they go on to speak of profits as what is
left after rent and wages are satisfied. It was
adopted to meet the case of a large body of men
doing business on other people's land with their
own capital, in the production of staple articles
comparatively little subject to speculative change
in value. If any of these conditions are changed,
the theory needs re-statement. And in the United
States to-day nearly all these conditions are
changed. In those industries which furnish the
most serious problems for a theory of profits, we
generally find men doing business on their own
land, but depending for their circulating capital
upon an exceedingly elastic credit system; dealing
in goods and services whose values may change
or vanish in a hundred different ways, and are
376
PROFITS.
made the subject of speculation at every turn. —
In business as now organized the current expenses
may be grouped under three heads: 1, raw mate-
rials; 2, insurance and repairs; 3, wages. The first
of these elements may take the form of a rent
charge, as in certain systems of agriculture and
mining, or may fall away almost altogether, as in
transportation of certain kinds; the Second and
third are tolerably constant in their form, though
of course not in their importance. Any excess in
the value of the product over these expenses may
be termed gross profits, and nearly coincides with
the definition of profits used by the English econ-
omists. But gross profits are received by the
capitalists as a return for two distinct services.
As owners of capital they receive a reward for
their saving in the form of interest; as employers
of capital they receive a reward for their busi-
ness abilities in the form of net profits. Gross
profits consist of earnings less current expenses:
net profits consist of gross profits less interest
on capital invested. — A century ago it was
natural to group these two elements together, be-
cause these two services were largely rendered by
the same men. The employer of capital was then
the owner of capital. In many localities and in-
dustries the same thing is true to-day; mainly so
in the case of handicraft, and partially so in the
case of joint stock companies. But it is certain
that the tendency of the day is to separate these
two functions; for a man of business ability to
control far more capital than he really owns, and
in some form pay the owners a fixed interest on
which he himself takes the chances of loss or of
extraordinary gain. There is no room here for a
systematic discussion of the causes which affect
the rate of interest. We must confine Our main
attention to the element of net profits, or entrepre-
neur's profits, as they are called by Gen. Walker,
who has done more than any one else to develop
this distinction. — The minimum of net profits
is roughly determined in the same way as the
minimum of wages. The business man, like the
workman, must make a living according to his
own standards of comfort and decency. But the
application of this principle to profits is less simple
than its application to wages. In the latter case
we have a large body of men ready to work for
a certain remuneration, but liable to become a
burden on society if the pay sinks below that
amount. In business the margin of difference
between what will induce men to begin and what
will compel them to stop, is far greater. No man
will begin business unless he expects to make
more as a capitalist than he was previously earn-
ing as book-keeper or foreman. But once en-
gaged in business he can not go out of it when he
fails to make the expected profit, without sacrific-
ing a great part of his invested capital and losing
the chance of ever again doing business on the
same terms. He will then hold on as long as he
can meet his expenses and sees any chance of
making a profit in the future. In hard times he
Will actually produce at a loss to save his capital
and connections, in the hope of a better future.
Thus, we have not a fixed but a varying mini-
mum; in times of expanding credit and increasing
production on a level with the wages of a super-
intendent, foreman or head clerk in the same in-
dustry; in times of diminished credit and produc-
tion falling away to nothing, or less than nothing.
— Now, the price of goods is approximately de-
termined by the cost of production of those pro-
duced at the greatest disadvantage, that is, by
men earning this minimum of profits. If any in-
dividuals carry on the business on more advanta-
geous terms, so that the cost of production is less,
every such advantage means, for the time being,
just so much increase in their profits. Cheap raw
materials, cheap transportation, cheap labor, will,
other things being equal, have the effect either to
drive less favored competitors out of the business.
or to secure the margin of advantage to the capital-
ist in the form of additional profit. It is to causes
like these that local variations in the rate of profit
are due. These are not as great as might seem
likely, because in the presence of any of these
special advantages other things are not often equal.
In general, cheap raw material means high interest,
cheap transportation means high rent, cheap labor
means inefficient labor. It is to the personal qual-
ities of the capitalist rather than to his environ-
ment, that extraordinary instances of profit are to
be ascribed. Skill in organizing labor, quickness
in utilizing improvements, and Sagacity in fore-
seeing high prices, are qualities which give the
capitalist the power of raising his own profits
almost indefinitely above the minimum. – The
effect of skill in organizing labor manifests itself
chiefly in capacity for carrying on business on a
large scale. A man who can make a given profit
by superintending the work of ten men, ought to
be able to make nearly twice as much if he can
superintend the work of twenty with equal effi-
ciency; or to sell his goods cheaper (in case he
must do so to extend his market) without Sweep-
ing away all the added profit. Why, then, it may
be asked, does not production on a large Scale
prevail altogether in competing against Smaller
concerns? It undoubtedly tends to do so. In
1850 the establishments enumerated in the United
States census of manufactures employed on an
averageless than 8hands, with an average of $4,300
returned capital. In 1860 the averages were 9
hands, and $7,100. In 1870 this advance had
received a check; but in 1880 the numbers had
risen to 10.7 hands, and about $11,000 capital.
But there are two causes which operate to restrain
this tendency. In most industries and with most
men the efficiency of superintendence rapidly de-
creases when carried beyond a certain moderate
limit. And, on the other hand, a man’s power of
borrowing capital can not be extended out of all
proportion to his own property. Both borrower
and lender feel the growing insecurity as the pro-
portion of borrowed capital increases. The former
is unwilling to take the risk of bankruptcy for the
chance of inordinate gain. The latter indemnifies
PROFITS.
377
himself for the extra risk by a high interest rate,
which soon sweeps away the margin of profit. —
The matter of utilizing improvements in produc-
tion requires a word of explanation. The ultimate
tendency of any such improvement is to cheapen
both the cost of production and the price of the
goods. But until the use of this improvement
has become widely extended, the price will not
fall very rapidly; and those capitalists who first
use the new method gain a great temporary ad-
vantage during the time of adjustment. In con-
nection with this opportunity of gain, there is an
opportunity of loss. The effect of such improve:
ments will render valueless a certain amount of
Capital already invested. The existence of a new
and better machine makes it impossible to run the
old machine except at a loss. In many branches
of industry these changes are so slow that the
expense incurred on their account may fairly be
classed under the head of repairs. But there are
other branches where the liability to sudden
changes of this kind forms a main item of risk
and expense; and the impossibility of estimating
this risk forms a main difficulty in attempting to
draw deductions from the statistics of industry. —
The third element increasing profits is the power
of foreseeing high prices. It differs from the
other two in the fact that the additional profit is
made, not by lessening the cost of production, but
by knowing when to produce a larger quantity.
Apart from this adaptation of the quantity to the
market, these changes of price affect, not the
margin of extra profit, but the minimum rate;
not advancing or depressing the special gains of a
few individuals alone, but the general profits of
the trade. Unless the business is a virtual mo-
nopoly, they thus of necessity cause a reaction.
Men of no special business talent are attracted by
the high temporary rate for every one; they rush
into the business, and cause an over-production,
from which they are themselves the first to suffer.
A sudden increase in demand, or “boom,” in a
particular line of business, furnishes one example
of these effects; a distinct advance in price from
the imposition of a tariff, furnishes another. It is
the men who are already on the ground that gain
the great benefit from the change; those who
follow after them come just in time to suffer from
the over-production. — It is these high margins of
extra profit of a few individuals, who manage to
sell at prices far in excess of what the goods have
cost them, that constitute the important fact for
us to recognize and explain. It is not enough
to treat them as a mere appendage to interest, or
to set them aside as wages of superintendence.
Nor can we, in general, properly speak of them as
insurance against risk. The term is used because
in those industries where there is a chance of great
gain, there is apt to be a chance of great loss. As
long as a capitalist offsets his own losses at one
time or place by his own gains at another, the use
of the term is legitimate. But when we attempt to
Offset as insurance one man's gain against another
man's loss in the same industry, it is as unwar-
ranted as it would be to apply the term insurance
to the gains of a practiced stock operator. The
justification of high profits is found in the fact
that Society can far better afford to pay high re-
wards for this kind of work than to let any of it
go undone. In our present complicated system
of industry, production and consumption are so
widely separated in time and place that it is easy
to make fatal mistakes in adjusting one to the
other. We want to do the right thing with the
least waste of labor ; and as long as a business
man helps to secure that end, society can afford
to pay him almost any price for so doing. As
long as he reaps the advantage of high prices un-
der free competition without securing artificial
monopoly, the interests of the capitalist and of
Society coincide. —We may sum up our conclu-
sions as follows: 1. The minimum of net profits
is, in good times, equal to wages of superintend-
ence; in hard times, it will fall away entirely; 2.
Any exceptional advantage that an individual has
over his competitors raises his profits for the time
being just so much above the minimum. This
excess is not properly regarded as wages of super-
intendence, nor, except in a limited degree, as in-
surance against risk; but as a premium paid by
society in order that its working forces may be
applied in the way best adapted to meet the eco-
nomic wants of the community. — Had the figures
obtainable been more trustworthy, this explana-
tion might well have been cut short to make more
room for statistics concerning the rate of profit in
different times, places and industries. But almost
every cause combines to prevent our obtaining
such statistics. The business men who know the
most striking facts have an interest in keeping
them secret. The reports of experts are few and
fragmentary. The European states make no at-
tempt to give such figures in their census. The
United States makes the attempt, but with so
little power of enforcing accuracy that the total
amount of invested capital may not improbably
vary 300 per cent. from the amount returned.
(“Compendium of the Census of 1870," p. 798.)
The returns of capital are thus all but useless for
our purposes. Those of product, wages and ma-
terials are much better, and can be studied with
advantage. The figures of gross profit obtained
from these data will necessarily include more than
our definition authorizes, because we have no
means of making any deduction for repairs. They
mean value of product less materials and wages.
— 1. Varèations ºn Tºme. Much has been said of
the tendency of profits to fall as a nation advances.
The reasons given are such as affect interest rather
than net profits. Even for interest the figures do
not show this tendency as markedly as we might
expect. Perhaps the most careful investigation
of the facts, though based only on English data,
is given by Farr. (“On the Valuation of Rail-
ways, Telegraphs, Banks, etc.,” Journal of the
Statist. Soc., xxxix., 465.) There is no & prior.
reason why net profits should show this tend-
ency. They are kept above the minimum by
378
PROHIBITION.
complex organization, new improvements, new
ever before. Compare the figures of four suc-
wants. These are to-day increasing faster than cessive censuses.
- Av. Gross Profit
Number of * g º
YEARS. Estºnºts. Product. Gross Profit. . Of §º
1850 -------------------- 123,025 $1,019,107,000 $ 227,228,000 $1,800
1860 -------------------- 140,433 1,885,862,000 475,378,000 3,400
1870 -------------------- 252,148 4,232,325,000 968,314,000 3,800
1880 -------------------- 253,852 5,369,579,000 1,024,801,000 4,000

The values for 1870 should be reduced one-fifth,
on account of the gold premium. Compare, also,
figures cited above as to hands employed and
capital invested. —2. Variations in Place. Here
again the variation of interest has been studied
instead of that of net profit, and the attempt
has been made to value the disinclination of cap-
ital to emigrate. The variations in profit do
not seem as great as we should expect. In these
comparisons we may make a guarded use of the
returns of invested capital, since the causes
which give rise to an underestimate in One local-
ity may be assumed to operate in the same way
in another.

* †
STATES Number of Product Gross Profit A. º #3;
g Establishments. I’OC1URCl5. lishment. Capital.
Per cent.
California --------------- 5,885 $ 116,219,000 $ 22,545,000 $3,800 37
Georgia - --------------- 3,593 36,441,000 ,031,000 2,000 34
Massachusetts----------- 14,352 631,135,000 115,847,000 8,100 38
Michigan---------------- 8,873 150,715,000 32,501,000 3,700 35
Missouri ---------------- 8,592 165,386,000 30,278,000 3,500 42.
New York-- ------------ 42,739 1,080,697,000 202,450,000 4,700 40
Pennsylvania------------ 31,232 744,818,000 145,742,000 4,700 31
The average rate per cent. on reported capital for
the whole country is 36%. While these figures
warrant us in no positive conclusions except as to
concentration of industry, we are put on our
guard against the danger of assuming too great
difference in rates as due to locality. — 3. Varia-
tions in Different Industries. The figures below
are presented as a summary of the facts in the
leading manufacturing industries in the United
States, rather than as a basis for generalizations.
Agriculture could not be included, on account of
inadequate wage returns. Mining, transportation
and mercantile business were, on various accounts,
unavailable for direct comparison.
Av. Gross Profit
INDUSTRIES. EºitS. Product. Gross Profit. oriº,ºb.
Agricultural implements ...--------- 1,943 $ 68,640,000 $21,749,000 $11,200
Boots and shoes (factory)----------- 1 959 166,050,000 20,607,000 10,500
Boots and shoes (wholesale) -------- 17,972 196,920,000 30,958,000 1,700
Brick and tile----------------------- 5,631 32,834,000 9,615,000 1,700
Carriages --------------------------- 3,841 64,952,000 15,366,000 4,000
Clothing---------------------------- 6,166 209,548,000 32,245,000 5,200
Cotton goods ----------------------- 1.005 210,950,000 51,570,000 51,300
Oi!!------------------------------- 24,338 505,186,000 46,219,000 1,900
Foundry---------------------------- 4,958 214,378,000 45,051,000 9,100
Furniture -------------------------- 4,843 68,038,000 16,237,000 3,400
Iron and Steel ---------------------- 1,005 296,558,000 49,810,000 49,600
Leather----------------------------- 3,105 113,348,000 18,795,000 6,100
Malt liquors ------------------------ 2,191 101,058,000 2,023,000 14,600
Lumber ---------------------------- 25,708 233,269,000 55,268,000 2,100
Mixed textiles---------------------- 470 66,222,000 - 15,677,000 33,400
Paper ------------------------------ 692 55,110,000 12,633,000 18,300
Printing---------------------------- 3,467 ,789,000 27,797,000 8,000
Slaughtering --------------------- 872 303,562,000 25,315,000 29,000
Sugar and molasses----------------- 49 155,485,000 7,912,000 16,100
Woolen goods ---------------------- 1,990 160,607,000 33,925,000 17,000
It is worthy of mention, that the two industries
showing decidedly the largest gross profit per
establishment—cotton and iron—also show de-
cidedly the lowest percentage of gross profit to
capital invested, namely, 24 and 22. This fact
may easily be a mere accident of the returns. The
other percentage results have no special interest
to justify their insertion. —This article has been
based on the facts of manufacturing industry, as
furnishing, on the whole, the best type for treat-
ment. It has not seemed necessary to Show how
all the individual points would have to be modi-
fied in applying the same explanation to business
of other kinds. ARTHUR T. HADLEY.
PROHIBITION (IN U. S. HISTORY) has been
an issue in purely state politics, but only in Some
of the states since about 1850. There have been
occasional nominations for the presidency by pro-
hibitionists; but they have met no attention, and
PROHIBITION.
379
it is difficult to see their exact object, for prohibi-
tion is as yet altogether outside of the domain of
the national government. — In state politics the
object of the prohibitionists is well defined: they
aim to prohibit by law the manufacture and sale
of intoxicating liquors, except for use in medicine
and in the arts. The arguments which they offer
seem to be as follows, as far as a summary can
give them fairly : 1. The most moderate estimate
of the annual sales of liquors in the United States
is that of Edward Young, chief of the bureau of
statistics in 1871: he puts it at $600,000,000, more
than the combined manufactures of cotton goods,
Woolen goods, boots and shoes, molasses and su-
gars, and nearly equal to the annual wages of
all the manufactories. Whether this item be one
of $600,000,000 a year or more, it is waste. 2.
Manufacturers generally estimate the loss of pro-
ductive power, due to drunkenness and the in-
efficiency arising from drunkenness, at 8 to 12
per cent. of total wages. As the census of 1880
puts the total annual wages of the United States
at $947,953,795, this per cent. of waste must be
a large amount. 3. Pauperism is, to a large but
doubtful extent, the product of drunkenness, and
the expense of the maintenance of paupers by
the state is, to that extent, chargeable to the sale
of liquors, since open sale is the common induce-
ment to drunkenness. 4. The connection between
crime and drunkenness must be largely a matter
of estimate; but the authorities competent to esti-
mate are practically unanimous in stating that
over 60 per cent, of the crime of the country is
due to drunkenness. From Sir Matthew Hale, in
1670, who put the proportion at 80 per cent.,
down to the various state boards of charities,
prison associations, and prison inspectors of our
own day, no one who has studied the subject
carefully, and has become familiar with it, puts
the proportion of drunkenness to crime at less
than 60 per cent.; and most of them make it
larger. Even if their figures are only estimates,
they can not be successfully impeached by the
naked contradictions of men who profess to know
nothing of the subject. If they remain unim-
peached, a large part of the state's expenditure
for police, criminal courts and prisons, must go
to the account of the sale of liquor. 5. The sale
of liquor tempts men to habits which ruin their
health and unfit them for the physical defense of
the state, when that is necessary. 6. Drunken-
ness bears heavily upon the defenseless classes,
upon women and children, upon the wives and
families of drunkards, of drunken paupers, of
drunken criminals, and of the victims of drunken
crime. These have a right to look to the state for
active protection, instead of being continually
oppressed by the state's permission for the further
sale of liquors. A single case of rape or murder,
due to the state's permission for the sale of liquor,
may entail indirect distress for which the state
can make no money satisfaction. — On Such a
showing, that the open sale of intoxicating liquors
is hostile to the productive energy of the state,
to its moral power, to its physical force, and to
its families, the prohibitionist claims a hearing.
Of his five classes of arguments, the third and
fourth are disputed; it is claimed that drunken-
ness, the accompaniment of pauperism and crime,
is mistaken for their cause; and, as to all of them,
it is asserted that prohibition will not prohibit
them, and that a high license system will be more
efficient than prohibition in controlling an evil
which can never be wholly removed. The pro-
hibitionist answers that prohibition is not expect-
ed to entirely stop the sale of liquors, any more
than laws against stealing will entirely stop steal-
ing; but that, in either case, prohibition will be
more efficient than any license system. The issue
thus made seems to be one which can only be de-
cided by experience. — In Massachusetts, of which
Maine was a part until 1820, the license system
was in force until 1835. Power to grant or refuse
licenses was then given to the county commission-
ers, and they were made elective, so that “ local
option” was practically put in force. In three
years this had become prohibition in nearly all
the counties, and the “fifteen gallon law " was
passed in 1838. It prohibited the sale of less than
fifteen gallons of liquors at one time; but it was
repealed the next year. In 1852 a prohibitory
law was passed, and remained in force, with many
amendments, until 1875, except that a license law
took its place for a year in 1868. In 1875 a license
law was passed, and has since remained in force,
in spite of annual efforts to renew prohibition. —
In Maine the “act to prohibit drinking houses
and tippling shops,” the so-called “Maine law,”
was passed in 1851, and has since been the law of
the state, except for the two years, 1856–7, when
a very stringent license law tºok its place. Ver-
mont passed the Maine law in 1852, and has since
retained and enforced it. New Hampshire passed
it in 1855, and has since retained it without en-
forcing it thoroughly. Rhode Island passed it in
1852, substituted license and local option in 1863–5,
passed the Maine law again in 1874, and returned
to license the next year. Connecticut passed the
Maine law in 1854, never enforced it, and repealed
it in 1872. New York, passed the Maine law in
1855, and repealed it in 1857. The Ohio constitu-
tion forbids the passage of any license law by the
legislature: that is, the sale of liquor must be
free or prohibited. In 1882 the republicans adopt-
ed the policy of taxing the sale by the “Pond
law'”; but the supreme court of the state pro-
nounced it unconstitutional. The dominant party
then proposed a prohibitory amendment to the
state constitution, which has not yet (1883) been
ratified. As a substitute, the “Scott law,” for
taxing sales of liquor, was passed and pro-
nounced constitutional in 1882—3. (See OHIO.)
In Michigan the constitution of 1850 forbade li-
cense laws. The Maine law was passed in 1855,
and repealed in 1875; and in 1876 the no-license
clause of the constitution was repealed. Iowa
passed the Maine law in 1855; and in 1882 a pro-
hibitory amendment to the state constitution, hav.
380
PROMOTION.
ing been passed by two legislatures, was ratified
by a remarkably large popular majority. The
state courts, however, declared it void on account
of informalities in its passage. Kansas adopted
a prohibitory amendment in 1880, and in 1881 the
legislature passed a stringent act to enforce it.
In 1882, Gov. St. John, the leader of the prohibi-
tionists, was renominated by the republicans; but
about 16,000 of his party voted against him, and
he was the only republican candidate defeated.
In 1881 a prohibitory law, proposed for popular
ratification by the legislature of North Carolina,
was defeated by a vote of 166,325 to 48,370.-Noth-
ing is certain in prospective American politics, and
very few things are even probable. But there
are some indications that this question of prohi-
bition is to take a larger place in political-conflict
than heretofore. The only probable alternative,
a high and almost prohibitory license, is now un-
der trial in Nebraska; and much will depend on
the result there and in the other states which may
take the same course. In any event, the opposi-
tion to prohibition will be as sincere and hearty
as its support, and will arise mainly from a dis-
like to that infringement of personal liberty to
buy and sell which is necessarily implied in pro-
hibition. — The views of prohibitionists may be
found in Hargreaves' Our Wasted Resources; Pit-
man’s Alcohol and the State; Lees' Teat Book of
Temperance; Prohibitionist’s Teat Book.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
PROMOTION, in the political sense, is the ad-
vancing of a person in official service to a higher
grade, and generally to a higher salary. In the de-
partments there is a nomination for promotion, as
for an Original appointment, and each promotion
is in law an appointment. The authority for pro-
motion is, in fact, a part of the appointing power,
and should be exercised with a sense of the same
moral and legal obligations which attend any other
exercise of that power. But, on the part of those
who exercise it and of those who are affected by
it, it is not infrequently regarded as a mere matter
of official favor. Yet every conscientious public
official possessing it must, on reflection, feel it to
be a high trust, in the performance of which no
other considerations should have influence except
the interests of the public and the merits of the
applicant. Every omission to promote the most
worthy, hardly less than every promotion of the
unworthy, is a breach of that trust; the first being
a special injustice to the meritorious officer, and
the act and the omission alike being a wrong to
the whole people. — The authority to make pro-
motions is also an important part of the means of
discipline and subordination in the great offices.
Indeed, the incidental effects of the enforcement
of just rules of promotion upon discipline, and all
the conditions of order and efficiency on the part
of numerous officials serving together in the same
office, are so great that these effects, as well as the
character and capacity of the individual seeking
advancement, should be taken into account in the
regulation and ordering of all promotions. If
within certain limits, promotions should be based
solely upon personal worth and efficiency, yet a
wise system for promotions, especially for large
offices, must look beyond the individual promoted,
to the effect of the principle governing them upon
the subordinates as a body. It is of great advan-
tage to the public service, that those who have be-
come most expert and accurate through experi-
ence in doing the public business, though not the
most talented of officials, should be encouraged
to remain. In order to give that encouragement,
it may often be a gain to the public Service to pro-
mote a man of long experience even in preference
to a man of more natural capacity who is new to
the service. The belief that long tried fidelity,
united with fair capacity, is considered in making
promotions may even enable the government to
secure competent service at lower salaries than
would be accepted were promotions hopeless or
but accidental, except on the part of the brightest
minds in its ranks. And experience has amply
shown, in the older countries, that the same per-
suasion is sufficient to induce a better class of
young men and women to enter, than could be
secured without such reasonable assurance of the
higher honors and salaries being awarded with
some reference to seniority or long experience.
It is easy, on the other hand, to go to an extreme
in favoring mere seniority. Superannuated of-
ficials and dullards may be kept too long. The
bright and aspiring, having talents to lead and
direct, may be thus prevented from entering, or
they may withdraw in disgust, by reason of such
obstacles in the way of their promotion. It re-
quires great wisdom to avoid both extremes. –
It needs no argument or experience to make it
plain that the public service must seem far more
honest and respectable, and hence far more at-
tractive, to all worthy young men or women,
when its higher grades and Salaries are present-
ed as so many rewards to be secured either by
fidelity or competency alone, or by good charac-
ter united with mental superiority, than when
they are known to be the good luck of favorites,
the recompense of subserviency, or the bribes of
partisan influence. — But exactly in what degree
either of those meritorious claims should prevail;
how seniority should be weighed against ability,
and experience against quickness of mind—when
good character is in both scales—is not easy
to decide. It should be made a fundamental
rule, however, from which there should be very
few exceptions, that the higher places and Salaries
in every bureau, office and department, are to be
bestowed as the honors and rewards for which
every subordinate, with a confidence proportioned
to his just claims, may justly aspire, and which,
in conformity to a sound principle, his superior
merits may surely gain. Thus hope is kept alive;
an honorable ambition is aroused; and Constant
fidelity and studious preparations for higher func-
tions are stimulated and rewarded.—Every Worthy
subordinate justly feels insulted and wronged,
PROMOTION.
381
every useful quality in the public service is dis-
couraged, and the public interests are grossly dis-
regarded, whenever a favorite of a great official
or politician—perhaps ignorant of the duties he is
to perform—is arbitrarily appointed or promoted,
over those who have been continually faithful
and efficient, to the head of an office. Nothing on
the part of those relying on their own merits in
the public service can be more discouraging or
debasing than the conviction that years of faith-
ful performance of duty and of studious prep-
aration for higher functions are unavailing as
against those who have the favor of great officials
or the influence of party chieftains to advance
them. Toiling on hopelessly, and seeing fortu-
nate dunces and favorite flunkies of party lords
and great officers take the higher places and sala-
ries, the faithful veteran in the public service feels
a natural resentment, if not a spirit of retaliation,
against a government which allows such injustice,
and cares not to honor those who worthily serve
it. Why should he make any special effort for
economy or efficiency in the public service, when
he sees the government neglect those most com-
petent for securing such results, making them the
underlings of novices and favorites? Certainly,
the government which allows such injustice and
folly does not deserve, and is not likely to secure,
the most worthy which its salaries, under wise
and just regulations, might be made to draw into
its service. To deny or defeat in practice the
claim of the most meritorious to promotion, is as
disastrous to the people as it is offensive to the
common sense of right and duty on the part of
all fair-minded men. —In framing a system of
promotion, few points have been found more per-
plexing than the claims of seniority. In some po-
sitions, plodding fidelity and accuracy are the
highest merit; in others, prompt conceptions, tact
for business, and genius for leadership. In the
practical exercise of the power of promotion, those
diverse claims have not been less embarrassing
than they are in theory. —It is one of the difficult
problems of administration to so regulate promo-
tions that the hope of them shall be a salutary stim-
ulant of all subordinates, while the government is
left free to select those for the higher places who
are the most competent to lead and to command.
Nor is this the whole problem; for, in some cases,
as, for example, where capacity is lacking in the
lower grades, or a vicious method has become
chronic in a bureau, the government must be al-
lowed to seek the suitable person Outside the
bureau or department, or even outside public Serv-
ice altogether. But this necessity, always hu-
miliating to subordinates, would be greatly di-
minished, if not well-nigh excluded, by establish-
ing adequate tests of merit (of which the best are
competitive examinations) for original entry to
the service. — These observations have no refer-
ence to the selection of heads of departments,
who, being in a sense political officers, and the
constitutional advisers of the president should,
for that reason, be selected with due reference
to their political opinions. They are members of
the political household of the president, whose
advice he takes upon important questions of pol-
icy.— In aristocratic and despotic countries, it was
almost a matter of course that promotions would
be very generally made by reason of birth, wealth
and influence, rather than by reason of superior
capacity and character. In fact, a monarchy or
aristocracy may be in part described as a form of
government under which the higher offices and
salaries, as well as pensions, titles and decorations,
are by intention bestowed on the basis of birth,
favor and influence; and a republic as a form of
government in the spirit of which all appointments
and promotions alike should be made by reason
of merit alone. How great in later years has been
the departure from intrinsic theory in the practice
of each, has been noticed under the head of RE-
Mov.ALs. – It has been found possible under repub-
lics for partisan influence and the politician class
to secure a monopoly and enforce a proscription,
in the matter of promotions as well as removals,
almost as complete as were ever developed in feu-
dal times under an aristocracy; while, on the other
hand, some of the leading monarchies now base
their promotions almost wholly upon merit alone.
— In the military and naval services of the lead-
ing states of Europe, if in practice favors are still
accorded to the aristocratic class, yet, in general,
merit is quite as much tested by rigid examina-
tions, and is quite as surely honored and encour-
aged by promotions, as in our army and navy;
for, with us, mere political influence is more po-
tential than in those states. The influence of pro-
motions based on merit, and the high capacity
thus secured, have greatly contributed to the
efficiency of European armies and navies in later
years. — It is nearly a century since (in an act
of 1784 relating to British India) the govern-
ment of Great Britain found it needful to make
laws in aid of promoting the most worthy in her
civil service. To defeat favoritism and corrupt
bargains, that statute gave great consideration to
seniority, and required records and public reports
concerning the grounds of promotions. In 1820
Lord Liverpool, at the head of the treasury, with
a view of arresting the pernicious patronage of
members of parliament, laid down and enforced
the principle that “all superior officers in the cus-
toms service should be supplied by promotions
from the inferior ranks.” In 1830 the rule was
formally reaffirmed by Lord Grey, and it has been
enforced in Great Britain ever since. Promotions
in her customs service, as in nearly every part of
her administration, are now made on the basis of
experience and merit alone. Mere patronage,
favor or partisan influence in making promotions,
are thus almost excluded. To a considerable ex-
tent, merit, as the ground of promotions, is tested
by competitive comparisons. And everywhere
careful records are kept, which show the fidelity
and efficiency of candidates. Even in the act for
creating the metropolitan police force, Sir Robert .
Peel caused a provision to be inserted that “no
382
PROMOTION.
one should be an inspector or superintendent who
had not been trained by actual service in each
subordinate rank.” (See “Eaton on Civil Service
in Great Britain,” pp. 140, 156, 301, 302, 382, 383,
446.) These conditions of promotion all British
statesmen, and the British people as well, now
recognize as not only just and invaluable in their
practical effects upon the public servants, but as
having largely contributed to the economy, pu-
rity, and vigor of every branch of the administra-
tion. The placing of mere politicians or manip-
ulators, or, indeed, of any person not experienced
for its administration, at the head of a revenue
office or a large postoffice, in Great Britain,
would be as impossible, without serious dam-
age to a party, as it is disastrous in practice and
absurd in point of theory and principle. We tol-
erate such pernicious trifling with the public inter-
ests only because we have been blinded by long
familiarity with partisan theories and usages. –
Not even a trained subordinate is promoted to
the head of the larger British custom houses,
unless he has had charge of every branch of the
customs service at a port of entry. All recom-
mendations for promotion by outsiders are inter-
dicted; and when made, they are treated, until
the contrary is proved, as having originated with
the person recommended. It is the enforcement
of these principles for promotion, which, united
with competitive examinations of merit for orig-
inal appointment, have so effectually excluded
party politics and official favoritism from British
administration. — In the British service, much at-
tention has been given to the relative advantages
of awarding promotions largely on the basis of
competitive examinations, or solely on that of
carefully kept records of work done. There are
advantages in both forms of tests. If competition
for promotion be made exclusive and Supreme,
there is danger that discipline may be impaired
and mere memory and attainments may be too
much regarded. The best administrative capacity
may not be secured. Sufficient authority and
discretion may not be allowed to the superior of-
ficer. The result has been that, in one office,
the rule has been established that one-half the
promotions are to be made upon each basis: that
of competitive examinations alone, and that of
records of efficiency and good conduct alone.
That competitive examinations for promotion un-
der suitable restrictions are of great advantage
to some parts of the public service, has been
shown in that service, as it has been also in
the limited trials of them in the public service
of the United States; but it is by no means
clear that they should be the sole tests for pro-
motion.— Soon after the adoption of the civil
service rules under President Grant, treasury reg-
ulations were promulgated (in 1874), under which,
(articles 1036 to 1038), promotions in the customs |
service were, in general terms, required to be made
on the basis of merit, length of service, however,
being taken into account. No examinations were
provided for in the regulations, though the presi-
the future.
dent's civil service rules required them for promo-
tions. – These regulations, feebly as they were
generally enforced, unquestionably in some de-
gree, within their limited range, secured justice
and higher qualifications in making promotions.
But the refusal of congress to make any ap-
propriation, in 1875, for the enforcement of the
civil service rules, caused the rules and regu-
lations alike to be disregarded. — Promotions,
with some marked exceptions (especially in the
New York naval office, custom house and post-
office, and in the interior department under
Secretary Schurz), like original appointments,
have since very generally been affected by fa-
voritism, patronage and influence. (See CIVIL
SERVICE REFORM, REMOVALs.)—The importance
of making promotions in the civil service in the
public interest has yet received but the slightest
attention from congress or the writers of text
books. An act of 1879 provides that promotions
from the lower to the higher grade of letter carri-
ers shall be made on the basis of “the efficiency
and faithfulness of the candidate during the pre-
ceding year.” Beyond this, congress has made no
provision (except in the civil service act passed
Jan. 16, 1883) for promoting the civil servants of
the people by reason of their merits. Congressmen
boldly push their favorites for the higher places
and salaries; and executive officers stand against
them and for the public interests and common jus-
tice at the peril of calling down upon themselves
the revenge of all patronage-mongering legisla-
tors.-The regulations of the postoffice department
provide that promotions in the railway mail service
shall be based on “good conduct, faithful service
and efficiency,” and this requirement has doubtless
much improved that branch of the postal service.
The civil service rules promulgated by the presi-
dent in 1883, declare that there shall be competi-
tive examinations for promotion, but reserve the
preparation of special rules on the subject for
These meagre provisions, confined
to such narrow limits—in aid of a better sys-
tem for promotion—but make the more con-
spicuous the facts that the legislators and admin-
istrators of other enlightened states have been
more disinterested and sagacious than our own in
dealing with the subject, and their experience,
rich and abundant, is now open and plain before
us. It will certainly require some self-denial on the
part of our congressmen and politicians, as it did
many years ago on the part of British legislators
and noblemen, to enforce a just and wise system
of promotions, which does not allow members, by
pleading, promising and bullying in the depart-
ments, to advance their favorites and henchmen
over the heads of the most meritorious of those
who serve the people. “Senators and representa-
tives,” said the late President Garfield in a speech
in 1870, “throng the offices and bureaus until the
public business is obstructed and the patience of
officers is worn out; * * they at last give way
and appoint, not because the applicant is fit, but
because we ask it.” — For the army and navy of
PROPERTY.
383
the United States a system of promotions has been
established far more extensively based upon char-
acter, capacity and seniority than any enforced
in the civil administration. Cadets, after passing
successfully the rigid tests of the military acade-
my at West Point, are promoted (by appointment)
to be second lieutenants in the regular army. Any
vacancies left, after exhausting such graduates, are
filled by promoting those shown to be sufficiently
meritorious from among the non-commissioned
officers of the army; and if there are still vacancies
unfilled, appointments to them may be made
from civil life. But neither the promotion nor
appointment last named can be made until after
detailed reports as to merits and an examination
of the qualifications of the candidates by a board
of five officers. The age of the candidate must
be between twenty and thirty years. No officer
of the corps of engineers, below the grade of field
officer, can be promoted until he shall have been
examined and approved by a board of three en-
gineers, senior to him in rank; and very nearly the
same rule of promotion prevails in the ordnance
department. — Promotions to the rank of captain
are made regimentally on the basis of seniority.
Promotions in established regiments and corps are
also made according to seniority. But seniority
does not prevail in the selection of a brigadier
general or of any officer above that grade. And
when, anywhere in the army, an officer in the line
of promotion is retired, the next officer in rank
must be promoted to his place, according to the
rules of the service. Promotions from the army
to be an ordnance officer are based on examina-
tions.— General officers appoint their own aides de
camp, and here, therefore, is a kind of promotion
hardly otherwise regulated than by the discretion
of the general making it. Vacancies in the places
of commissioned officers are filled by promotion
through a nomination by the president in his dis-
cretion, subject to confirmation by the senate.
Promotions in the navy stand upon principles
closely analogous to those enforced in the army.
Appointments to active service are made from
the naval cadets graduated from the academy at
Annapolis. No naval officer can be promoted to
a higher grade, in the active list, until he has been
examined by a board of naval surgeons and found
physically qualified; and no line officer below the
grade of commodore, and no officer not of the
line, can be promoted on the active list until his
mental, moral and professional fitness to perform
all his duties at sea have been established to the
satisfaction of a board of examining officers of
not less than three senior officers appointed by
the president. In time of peace the condition
of a satisfactory examination applies even to a
commodore seeking promotion to the grade of ad.
miral on the active list. The examining board is
authorized to take testimony under oath, and to
examine the files and records of the navy depart-
ment. These, with other provisions for which we
have not space, seem to require in Some particu-
lars a more rigid test of merit for promotion in
the navy than is required in the army. — Our
limits will not allow us to set forth the rigid tests
of promotion enforced in the naval and military
services of the European states. – There can be
no doubt that the higher public respect and social
position enjoyed by officers of the army and navy,
and warranted by their superior qualifications,
and the infrequency of their misconduct, as com-
pared with the civil servants of the government,
are largely a consequence of such wise and just
conditions of appointment and promotion. Every
advance, in the official scale thus made proclaims,
not a triumph of political influence, but a manly
victory won in one of those examinations, in which
the official record and the personal merits of the
candidate are investigated and adjudged. That
the effects of the vicious methods and the selfish
and partisan influences which have so largely pre-
vailed in making promotions in the civil service,
have made themselves felt to a considerable de-
gree in the execution of the army and navy sys-
tems for promotions—causing pernicious excep-
tions and evasions in their enforcement — can
hardly be doubted. To arrest those influences, to
remove political forces and favoritism more com-
pletely, as the means of securing promotions and
privileges in the army and navy, are duties which
congress can not too promptly perform. Every
meritorious officer would welcome such a reform,
and all others would hope for less advantage from
neglecting their duties and studies in order to se-
cure political influence and the interposition of
congressmen and politicians in their favor.
DORMAN B. EATON.
PROPERTY. I. Right of Property. Political
economy inquires into the principles which pre-
side Over the formation and distribution of wealth.
It takes for granted the existence of property,
which is its starting point; it considers it as one
of those primary truths which manifest them-
selves at the origin of society, which are every-
where found impressed with the seal of universal
consent, and are accepted as necessities of the
civil Order and of human nature, without even
dreaming of discussing them. – Read the fathers
of economic science: they are almost uniformly
silent on this great question. The chief and Oracle
of the physiocrates, Quesnay, who understood
and enlarged upon the Social importance of prop-
erty, does not take the trouble to define it, except
in a treatise on natural law. Turgot, the states-
man, philosopher and economist, Turgot, who in
his work On the distribution of wealth, has thrown
brilliant light on the origin, has nothing to say on
the principle, the right or the form of property.
The master of masters, the author of the “Wealth
of Nations,” Adam Smith, scarcely makes men-
tion of it, without doubt because he saw in it no
subject for discussion. J. B. Say decides debate
on this subject to be futile, and undeserving the
consideration of the science. “The speculative
philosopher,” he says, in the fourteenth chapter
of his book, “may busy himself in finding out
384
PROPERTY.
the real foundations of the right of property; the
jurisconsult may lay down the laws which govern
the transmission of things possessed; political sci-
ence may show what are the surest guarantees
of this right; but so far as political economy is
concerned, it considers property simply as the
strongest incentive to the production of wealth,
and pays little attention to what establishes and
guarantees it.” In another place (vol. ii., chap.
iv.) he says: “It is not necessary, in order to
study the nature and progress of social wealth, to
know the origin of property or its legitimateness.
Whether the actual possessor of landed property,
or the person by whom it was transmitted to him,
obtained it by occupation, by violence, or by fraud,
the result, as regards the revenue accruing from
that property, is the same.”— At the time when
J. B. Say wrote, the problem which absorbed
and agitated men's minds was the production of
wealth. The European world felt itself poor; it
began to understand the productiveness of labor,
and craved wealth. Credit extended its opera-
tions; commerce spread in spite of war; and man-
ufacturing industry, developing rapidly, presaged
already the marvels which have since marked its
course. Production in its different forms was the
great business of the time. This rising tide car-
ried all with it, population, labor, resources. All
had a clear road to travel with their goal before
their eyes, nor did they stop to revert to their own
situation or that of others. Property seemed then
a sort of common stock from which all, with a
little effort, might draw in abundance, and which
would reproduce itself unceasingly. No one
dreamed of calling the right to it in question.
The silence of economists is but a translation of
the rational indifference of public opinion on the
subject. — At a later period, population having
increased in all the states of Europe, the value of
land and the rate of wages having generally risen,
personal property, thanks to the progress of com-
merce and industry, equaling or nearly equaling
immovable property, and competition, which af-
fected every kind of work and all investments,
reducing profits as well as the outlets for human
activity, the problem of the distribution of wealth
came to the front. The number of poor persons
seemed to increase with the number of the rich.
It was even believed, for a time, that industrial
civilization tended to increase the inequality which
naturally exists among men. In this transition
period, which still continues, sects were formed
to preach to those discontented with the social
order, we know not what sort of a future, the
first step to which was the abolition or trans-
formation of property. — Favored political revo-
lutions, those fatal doctrines which at first held
subterranean sway in some sort until they had
hardened the hearts and corrupted the minds of
the people, broke loose in the streets of France;
the arguments used against Society served to load
the muskets and point the bayonets of revolt. At
first it was necessary to defend social order by
armed force; and now, whether we be economists,
philosophers or jurisconsults, we all understand
that our duty is to point out in such a way as
shall convince the most incredulous, that society,
having force on its side, has also reason and right
in its favor. — It was in the light of events that
the programme of political economy was ex-
tended. A place has now been assigned it in the
discussion of the origin and right to property. It
must base its intervention here on observation of
facts, just as philosophy does, in expounding and
commenting on principles. Socialism, by attack-
ing the foundation of social order, compels all the
Sciences to contribute, each its share, to its de-
fense. — II. Opinions of Philosophers and Juris-
consults on Property. Until our time the question
of property had been abandoned to philosophers
and jurisconsults. The usefulness of their labors
is incontestable; they prepared the ground and
paved the way for political economy. If they
did not always completely observe and demon-
strate the nature of things, they had at least had
glimpses of it. It was Cicero who showed that
the earth became the patrimony of all by labor,
and proved that the person who attacked this
right of appropriation violated the laws of human
Society. After him Seneca, although he exag-
gerated, in accordance with the ideas of his time,
the rights of sovereignty, yet recognized that
property was an individual right. Ad reges,
potestas omnium pertimet, ad singulos proprietas. –
Nevertheless the person would wander from his
road who sought to find in the writings of philos-
ophers or jurisconsults, either a complete theory
of property, or even an exact definition of it.
Grotius, who is in the front rank of doctors of
natural and international law, has given in a few
lines a history of property from which commu-
nism might draw its arguments. According to this
author, after the creation God conferred on the
human race a general right to everything. “This
was done,” he says, “that each might take for his
use whatever he wished, and consume what it
was possible for him to consume. * * Matters
remained thus until, from the increase in the
number of men as well as of animals, the land,
which was formerly divided by nations, began to
be divided among families; and since wells are a
supreme necessity in dry countries, and are not
equal to supplying a large number, each appro-
priated what he was able to seize.” — Charles
Comte remarks that the publicists of this school,
Wolf, Pufendorf and Burlamaqui, confined them-
selves to paraphrasing the ideas of Grotius. All
supposed that, in the origin of Societies, men, to
satisfy their wants, had only to take what they
found ready at hand, that the earth produced
without labor, and that appropriation was nothing
but occupation or conquest. — Montesquieu did
not understand, any better, the part played by
labor in the formation of individual property.
“Just as men,” he says (book xxvi., of the “Spirit
of the Laws,”) “abandoned their natural inde-
pendence to live under political laws, they re-
nounced the natural community of goods to live
PROPERTY.
385
under civil laws. The first laws gave them lib-
erty, the next property.” Montesquieu, the only
publicist since Aristotle who undertook to base
the laws of social order on observation, was never-
theless unable to prove among any people, how-
ever primitive, the existence of that supposed
community of goods which, according to him, has
its origin in nature. The most savage tribes, in
ancient asin modern times, had a very definite idea
of mine and thine. Property and the family have
everywhere served as the foundations of order, and
law has only confirmed, by giving expression to
them, relations already established. —Blackstone
does not go farther than Montesquieu, whose ideas
agree with those of J. J. Rousseau, on the state
of nature. Bentham himself, the writer who,
more than any other, departed from the accepted
ideas of his times, declares that property does not
exist naturally, and that it is a creation of the
law.— There is some consolation for proprietors
in Bentham's assurance, that property will perish
only with the law. As human society can not
exist without law, and since the end of the law
would be the end of society, property may safely
count on a long lease of life. Besides, Bentham,
following the example of Montesquieu, confound-
ed the idea of property with that of the guarantees
which property receives from civil and political
laws, guarantees fitly represented by taxation. The
best refutation of Bentham's theory is to be found
in some passages from Charles Comte, which it
may be well to reproduce here. “If nations can
Ouly exist, by means of their property, it is im-
possible to admit that there is no natural property
unless it be admitted that it is unnatural for men
to live and to perpetuate themselves.” “It is true
that there is no image, no painting, no visible fea-
ture which can represent property in general; but
it can not from this be concluded that property
is not material, but metaphysical, and that it
belongs entirely to the conception of the mind.
There is no visible feature by which a man in
general can be represented, because in nature there
exist only individuals, and what is true of men is
true also of things.” “Individuals, families and
peoples subsist by means of their property; they
could not live on metaphysical relations or con-
ceptions of the mind. There is in property some-
thing more real, more substantial, than a basis of
expectation. A false, or at least a very incom-
plete idea is given of it when it is defined as if it
were a lottery ticket, which is also a basis of ex-
pectation.” “According to Montesquieu and
Bentham, it is civil laws which give rise to prop-
erty, and it is clear that both mean by civil laws
the decrees of public power which determine the
possessions which each one may enjoy and dis-
pose of. It would, perhaps, be more correct to
Say that it is property which gave birth to civil
laws; for it is hard to see what need, a tribe of
Savages, among whom no property of any kind
existed, could have of laws or of a government.
The guarantee of property is undoubtedly one of
the most essential elements of which it is com-
144 VOL. III. — 25 -
posed; it increases the value of property, and as-
Sures its duration. A great mistake would be
made, however, were it supposed that this guar-
antee was all there is of property; the civil law
furnishes the guarantee of property, but it is
human industry which gives birth to property.
Public authority is needed only to protect it and
to assure to all the power of enjoying and dispos-
ing of it.” “Were it true that property exists or
is created by decrees and by the protection of
public authority, it would follow that the men
who in any country were invested with the power
of legislation, would also be invested with the
power of creating property by their decrees, and
could, without committing injury to the right of
property, despoil some of it to the advantage of
others: they would have no other rules to follow
than their own desires or caprices.” — The Scotch
school, from Locke to Reid and Dugald Stewart,
was the first to give a nearly correct definition of
the right of property; as the physiocratic school
was the only one, previous to 1789, that under-
stood its importance, and brought out into relief
the beneficial influence it exercised on the econo-
my of society. But at the time of the French rev-
olution these teachings had not yet corrected the
ideas of all; for Mirabeau said to the constituent
assembly that “private property is goods acquired
by virtue of the laws. The law alone constitutes
property, because it is only the political will which
can effect the renunciation of all, and give a
common title, a guarantee to the use of one alone.”
Tronchet, one of the jurists who contributed most
to the drawing up of the civil code, shared at that
time this opinion, and declared that “It is only
the establishment of society and conventional
laws which are the real source of the right of
property.”—There is not much difference between
Mirabeau’s statement and that of Robespierre, who
wrote, in his declaration of rights, “Property is
the right that each citizen has to the enjoyment of
that portion of goods guaranteed to him by the law.”
And Robespierre is not far removed from Baboeuf,
who desired that the land should be the common
property of all, that is, that it should belong to
nobody. Mirabeau, who pretends that the legis-
lator confers property, admits, by SO doing, that
he can take it away; and Robespierre, who ex-
pressly reserves the state's right in property, and
reduces the proprietor to the position of a mere
usufructuary, by refusing him the power of sell-
ing or disposing of it by will or otherwise, is the
direct and immediate forerunner of communism.
— I know that the convention gave, in the decla-
ration of rights which serves as a preamble to the
constitution of 1793, a very reassuring and very
sound definition of the right of property. Article
sixteen reads: “The right of property is the right
belonging to every citizen, of using and disposing
as he likes, of his goods, his revenues, of the fruit
of his labor and his industry.” And article nine-
teen adds a guarantee, which all subsequent French
constitutions reproduced: “No one shall be de-
prived of the least portion of his property without
386 &
PROPERTY.
his consent, except when public necessity, legally
proven, evidently demands it, and then only on
condition of just compensation previously made.”
—But, doubtless, the convention reserved the ap-
plication of those fine maxims, as it did the aboli-
tion of capital punishment, for times of peace.
No government ever committed more flagrant out-
rages on the right of property. Confiscations and
maximum laws, to say nothing of the inflation of
assignats and bankruptcy, marked its Savage Sway,
and if it made France victorious and terrible
abroad, it ruined and impoverished her at home.
The convention evidently thought, with Saint-
Just, that “The man who has shown himself the
enemy of his country, can not be a proprietor in
it.” It treated the nobles and priests as Louis
XIV. had treated Protestant refugees after the
revocation of the edict of Nantes. It adopted,
in the interests of the republican state, the theory
of feudal origin, that the sovereign, the king, had
direct and supreme dominion over the goods of
his subjects. – M. Troplong called attention to
the concordance of the demagogical doctrine of
property with the maxims of despotism : “All
that exists throughout the length and breadth of
our states,” said Louis XIV. in his instructions to
the Dauphin, “whatever be its nature, belongs to
us by the same title; you must be fully persuaded
that kings are the absolute lords, and have natur-
ally the full and free disposition of all the goods
possessed both by church people and by laymen,
that they may use it in everything; likewise hus-
bandmen.” Put this absolute sovereignty into the
hands of a socialistic republic, and it will assuredly
lead to the measures demanded in the following
lines by Gracchus Baboeuf: “The land of a state
should assure a subsistence to all the members
of that state. When, in a state, the minority
of its people has succeeded in monopolizing its
landed and industrial wealth, and by that means
holds the majority under its sceptre, and uses the
power it has, to cause that majority to languish
in want, it should be known that such encroach-
ment could only occur through the bad institutions
of the government; therefore what former gov-
ernments neglected to do, at the time, to prevent
that abuse or to stifle it at the beginning, the act-
ual administration should do to re-establish the
equilibrium which should never have been lost,
and the authority of the laws ought to operate a
reform in the direction of the final maxim of the
perfected government under the social contract :
* Let all have enough, and no one too much.’” — At
last the era of the civil code dawned on France
and on Europe. Then for the first time the
public power laid down and sanctioned the true
principles respecting property. M. Portalis ex-
pressed himself before the legislative assembly
in the following terms : “The principle of the
right of property is in ourselves; it is in no
way the result of human convention or of pos-
itive law. It lies in the very constitution of
our being, and in our different relations to the
objects which surround us. Some philosophers
seem astonished that man should become the pro-
prietor of a portion of the earth which is not his
creation, which will outlast him, and which obeys
only laws that are not of his making. But does
not this astonishment cease when all the marvels
of man’s handiwork are considered, that is to say,
all that human industry can add to the work of
nature.” Yes, legislators, it is by our industry
that we have conquered and reclaimed the land
on which we live; by it we have made the earth
more habitable, and better fitted to be our abode.
Man's task, so to speak, was to complete the great
work of creation. * * Let us put no faith in
systems which pretend to make the land the
property of all, that men may have a pretext for
respecting the rights of no one.” — The civil code
(articles 544, 545), collecting and condensing the
principles laid down in previous constitutions,
defined property as follows: “The right of using
and disposing of things in the most absolute
manner, provided that they are not used in a way
prohibited by the laws or regulations.” Charles
Comte has rightly pointed out that this definition
applies to the usufruct’s right as well as to prop-
erty. The definition of the civil code sins in
another way: it does not limit the power which is
given to legislators, or to the administration, of
making rules regarding the use of property. On
that account, property lacks all guarantees; it is
not defended against arbitrary power. The law
might forbid a landowner to sow seed, to plant
vines or trees, to erect any building On his land,
to sell, exchange or give his property away. In
a word, the definition of the civil code admits
of Egyptian monopoly as well as of French
liberty. Fortunately, legislative custom and pub-
lic morals correct the rashness of the legal text.
— The civil code declares property inviolable.
Following the examples of the constitutions of
1791, 1793 and 1795, it declared that no one
should be compelled to part with his property,
unless for the public good, and in consideration
of just compensation previously made. But is
it absolutely the fact, as M. Troplong thinks it
to be, that the state, by these provisions, only re-
served to itself the rights attached to political
requisition? But did the state by those provisions
shelter property from the public power as well as
from the usurpation of private persons? This is
the weak side of the civil code. Its authors laid
down principles, all of whose consequences they
had not drawn. While declaring property invio-
lable, they failed to shield it from sequestration
by government, or from confiscation. — The em-
peror Napoleon said to the council of state, On
Sept. 18, 1809: “Property is inviolable. Napo-
leon himself, with the numerous armies at his
disposal, can not take away a single farm. For to
violate the right of property in one man is to
violate it in all men.” Admirable words, to which
his acts did not correspond. – III. Origin, Char'-
acter and Progress of Property. Why is it that
the great majority of philosophers and juriscon-
sults have succeeded so ill in defining property?
PROPERTY.
387
How does it happen that the origin and nature
of an institution which holds so high a place in
social order, have been revealed to us with any
degree of clearness, only since the end of the last
century? How is it that the highest intellects,
when brought to bear on this study, have too often
evolved only such theories as the humblest of
landowners could not reconcile with his every-day
practice? It is because the phenomenon which
they studied and described has more than once
changed character. Property has shared in the
general progress of civilization; it has, at the same
time, followed a law of development of its own.
It has advanced as liberty, as industry and as
the arts have done, in the world ; it has passed
through different and successive stages, each cor-
responding to a different theory. — The distinction
of mine and thine is as old as the human race.
From the time that man became aware of his per-
sonality, he sought to extend it to things. He ap-
propriated the land and what it produced, animals
and their increase, the fruit of his energy and the
works of his fellow-men. Property exists among
pastoral peoples as well as among those nations
which have reached the highest point of agricult-
ural wealth and of industry; but it exists among
them under different conditions. The occupation
of land was annual before it became lifelong, and
it was lifelong, in the person of the tenant, before
it became hereditary and in some sort perpetual.
It belonged to the tribe before it belonged to the
family, and it was the common domain of the fam-
ily before it took an individual character. Poets,
who were the first historians, attest this gradual
transformation.—The marked distinction between
the ancient and the modern world is, that formerly
property was too often acquired by conquest,
while now its essential basis is labor. Not only
in antiquity and in the middle ages did individuals,
as well as peoples, enrich themselves by usurpa-
tion, but free men disdained industry, and the
earth was tilled by slaves. Armed force, which
was the surest title to the possession of land, pro-
cured also the instruments of production. How
was it possible to sound the nature or take in the
full horizon of property at a time when the con-
queror arrogated to himself the right, at one time
of selling the conquered like beasts of burden, and
at another of making serfs of them; when men
were treated as though they were goods and chat-
tels; when labor passed first through the ordeal
of slavery, and then through that of serfdom,
before it became the honor of free men and the
wealth of nations? — This is not all. Property,
in undergoing a progressive development similar
to that of liberty, has extended and increased,
and has, so to speak, invaded space. When civil-
ization begins, what man possesses is very trifling:
a few herds, some rude implements, a spot of
land which produces corn in the middle of a desert
waste; as yet he has scarcely appropriated any
natural agents. Agricultural peoples, which suc-
ceed the pastoral tribes, soon increase ten-fold and
a hundred-fold the property which now, little by
little, becomes connected with the surface of the
earth. But it remains only for nations skilled in
industry and commerce to bring property to its
highest development. When the land becomes,
in some sort, individualized, and each portion falls
into the hands of an owner who makes it pro-
ductive with his capital and by the sweat of his
brow, those who find themselves left out in this
partition of the land are not, on that account, ex-
cluded from property. Capital has its origin in
accumulation. Personal property is grafted on
landed property. Treasures accessible to all are
formed, of which each can have a share, and
which he can increase by his labor. A parcel of
land which in Algeria is worth perhaps $2, and
in the western states of America about $5, Sells
readily in western Europe for from $100 to $1,000.
In spite of the high price which improved agricult-
ure speedily gives to rural property, there is no
exaggeration in saying that to-day the personal
property of England and France far exceeds the
value embodied in the land. — It may be add-
ed, that, as civilization advances, each citizen wit-
nesses the increase and extension of the common
property which he enjoys equally with all other
citizens of the state. Roads, canals, railways,
schools, and other public establishments are in-
comparably more numerous and better adminis-
tered to-day than they were half a century ago."
What would it be, if we were to compare the sum
of enjoyments and capacities which Society put at
the disposal of its members in the republics of
Greece and Rome and those enjoyed by them in
our day? The humblest of our laborers would not
like to find himself exposed to the misery or the
humiliations which awaited the proletarian of an-
cient days in the agora or the forum. It is, then,
rightly that M. Thiers, calling to mind that prop-
erty is a universal fact, affirms, at the same time,
that it is a growing fact. — Let us listen to Thiers,
portraying the origin and the growth of property
in historic times: “Among all peoples, however
rude they may be, we found property, at first as
a fact, and afterward as an idea, an idea more or
less clear according to the degree of civiliza-
tion attained, but invariably settled. Thus, the
savage hunter has at least his bow, his arrows
and the game which he has killed. The no-
mad, who is a shepherd, at least owns his tents
and his flocks. He has not yet admitted prop-
erty in land, because he has not yet thought
of applying his labor to it. But the Arab who
has raised numerous flocks, is satisfied that he is
the proprietor of the land, and exchanges its
products against the wheat which another Arab,
settled on the land, has produced elsewhere. He
measures exactly the value of the object which he
gives, by that of the object which is given him; he
knows that he is the proprietor of the one before
the barter, and of the other after it. Immovable
property does not yet exist for him. Sometimes
only he is seen, during two or three months of the
year, to establish himself on land which belongs
to no one, to plow it, to sow it with seed, to reap
388
PROPERTY.
the harvest, and then to wander off to other
places. * * The duration of his property is in
proportion to his labor. Little by little, however,
the nomad becomes settled and turns agriculturist,
for it is an instinct in man to wish to have a place
of his own, a home. * * He ends by choosing
a tract of land, by dividing it into patrimonies, on
which each family establishes itself, and works
and cultivates it for itself and its posterity. As
man can not allow his heart to wander among all
the members of the tribe, and as he longs for a
wife of his own, children whom he may love, care
for and protect, in whom his hopes, his fears, his
very life, may be centred, so he has need of his own
parcel of land, which he may cultivate, plant, beau-
tify according to his tastes, fence in, and which he
hopes to transmit to his descendants, green with
trees which have grown not for him, but for them.
Then to the personal property of the nomad, suc-
ceeds the landed property of an agricultural peo-
ple; this second property grows, and with it come
laws, complicated, it is true, which time makes
more just and more provident, but the principle
of which it does not change. Property, at first
the result of instinct, becomes a social agreement,
for I protect your property that you may protect
mine. As man advances, he becomes more at-
tached to what he owns; in a word, more a pro-
prietor. In a barbarous state he is scarcely pro-
prietor at all ; civilized, he is one intensely. It
has been said that the idea of property was weak-
ening in the world. That is an error of fact. Far
from growing weaker, it is being regulated, de-
fined and strengthened. It ceases, for instance,
to be applied to what is not capable of being pos-
sessed, that is, to man, and from that time slavery
is at an end. This is an advance in ideas of
justice, but not a weakening of the idea of
property. * * Among the ancients the land
was the property of the republic; in Asia it is that
of a despot; in the middle ages it belonged to lords
paramount. With the progress of the ideas of
liberty, where man's freedom was accomplished,
the liberty of his chattels and possessions was
secured ; he himself is declared to be the owner
of his lands, independently of the republic, the
despot, or the lord paramount. From that moment
confiscation is abolished. The day the use of his
faculties was restored to him, property became
more individualized; it became more proper to the
individual, more property than it was. – There
is another observation to be made, and one more
directly within the domain of political economy.
It is, that the more property increases, is firmly
established, respected, the more society prospers.
“All travelers,” says M. Thiers, “have been struck
by the state of languor, of misery, and of rapacious
usury, of countries in which property is not suffi-
ciently well guaranteed. Go to the east, where
despotism claims to be the only property owner,
or, which is the same thing, return to the middle
ages, and you will see everywhere the same thing:
the land neglected, because it is the readiest prey
to the avidity of tyranny, and left to the hands of
point of date, is it the first.
slaves, who are not free to chose their own career;
commerce preferred, because it could more readily
escape exaction; in commerce, gold, silver and jew-
els in request, being the valuables most readily
hidden; all capital seeking conversion into these
values, and when it actually seeks employment
concentrating itself in the hands of a proscribed
class, who, making a pretense of poverty, lived
in houses wretched on the outside, gorgeous in-
ternally, opposing an invincible resistance to the
barbarian master who would tear from them the
secret of their treasures, and solacing themselves
by making him pay more dearly for the money,
thus, by usury, revenging themselves for his tyr-
anny.”—Such are the roots of property to be
found in history. As far as the right of property
is concerned, it may be said that the universality
of the fact is sufficient to establish it. Were prop-
erty something accidental in human society, were
the institution established only among an insular
people, and were it an exception to the general
custom, it might be called upon to produce its title
deeds; but it stands to reason that men must have
the right to do as they have done at all times, and in
every inhabited place. Universal consent is an in-
fallible sign of the necessity for, and consequently
of the legality of, an institution. —But the right can
be proved independently of the historic reason.
“Man,” says M. Thiers, “ has a first property in
his person and his faculties; he has a second, less
intimately connected with his being, but not less
sacred, in the product of his faculties, which in-
cludes all that are called worldly possessions, and
which society is in the highest degree interested
in guaranteeing to him, for without this guarantee
there would be no labor, without labor no civili-
zation, not even necessaries, but, instead, destitu-
tion, brigandage and barbarism.” This definition
is neither sufficiently absolute nor complete. M.
Thiers seems to place the foundation of property
in labor alone. Undoubtedly it is its most legiti-
mate source, but it is not the only one, nor, in
At the commence-
ment of social life, man appropriated the soil by
occupation, before he made it his own by the work
of his arms. Everywhere wresting the ground
from man or from beast, the taking possession of
it preceded its cultivation. The land belonged to
a tribe collectively before it was distributed among
its different members. This is what the school
calls the right of the first occupant, a right which
is explained by the very fact of possession being
taken without hindrance, and by the power to
defend, to protect, and consequently to appropri-
ate, the land occupied. — Side by side with the
men who acquired their possessions by Occupancy
or by labor, there are nations and individuals who
usurped what they possess by violence and by
fraud. Laws, and public force at the service of
the laws, justify that usurpation wherever their
power extends, and commands both obedience and
respect. But it happens, and history furnishes
many examples of it, that the property thus wrong-
fully acquired is peaceably handed down from
PROPERTY.
389
generation to generation, gives rise to an infinite
number of contracts, and becomes the basis of
fortunes. After all these faits accomplis, ought
the origin of landed estates to be sought for with
a view to securing their condemnation ? Or,
rather, does not the interest of society demand
that the subsequent transactions be legitimized,
and their origin wiped out? This state of af-
fairs has given rise to the system of prescrip-
tion, which is the real safeguard of property.
“No transaction would be possible,” says M.
Thiers, “no exchange could be made, if it were
not settled that after a certain time the person
who holds anything holds it lawfully, and may
transfer it. Imagine what would be the condition
of society, what acquisition would be certain, if
it were allowed to go back to the twelfth or thir-
teenth century, and dispute possession with the
holder of a piece of property, by proving that a
feudal lord had taken it from his vassal and given
it to a favorite, or to one of his men-at-arms, who
sold it to a member of the guild of merchants,
who, in turn, transmitted it, through many hands,
to a long line of owners more or less respectable.
It is very right that there should be a term fixed,
after which what is, simply because it is, should
be declared lawful and held as good. Were this
not so, what a scene the world would present.”—
It must be said, however, that conquest and usur-
pation are not constant and exclusive facts, al-
though it might be supposed they were, when we
see Assyrians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, and,
finally, the northern barbarians, each in turn dis-
possessing the other, and ruling the world by
force of arms. Violence did not mark the begin-
ning of all property. M. Thiers, after having
stated, in contradiction to the well-understood and
well-interpreted testimony of history, that “all
society presented in the beginning this phenom-
enon of occupation more or less violent,” admi-
rably explains how it is that the greater part of
landed property had its origin in labor. (De la
Propriété, by M. Thiers, vol. i., ch. 10.) — Prop-
erty draws after it, as a consequence, inequality
of conditions in the social order, and this inequal-
ity in condition is itself only the reflection of the
differences which nature has established among
men. All men have not the same muscular
strength, nor the same degree of intelligence, nor
an equal aptitude for or application to work. By
the very fact that there are some who are stronger,
cleverer, and, it must be said, happier than others,
there are some also who tread with a quicker and
surer foot the way to wealth. Property does not
aggravate these irregularities in nature, but it
marks them in durable characters, and gives them
a body. In the beginning the best farmer possess-
es most. What interest could society have in in-
terfering with his better farming? The most skill-
ful and robust cultivator of the soil, while enrich-
ing his family, adds to the general sum of products,
and therefore enriches society also. Equality of
condition, the equal partition of the land, and
equality of wages, are three forms of the same
idea, which amounts to saying that the stronger
Ought not to produce more than the weaker, and
that the thought of the enlightened man ought to
sink to the level of that of the ignorant man; this
would be to limit production, to repress intelli-
gence, and to stifle literature, science and art in
their very germ. — The right of possession in-
cludes, as a natural consequence, the right of dis-
posing of the things possessed by you, of trans-
mitting them to others, either for a consideration,
or as a free gift; of exchanging, selling, or giving
them away during life or by testamentary disposi-
tion, and of leaving them as an inheritance. Prop-
erty implies the right of inheritance. Man is so
Constituted that he wishes to Outlive himself. The
care he feels for his self-preservation extends to
his family; he would work much less for himself
were he not, in working for himself, working for
his family. Property reduced to a usufructuary
interest would be of but half its value to individ-
uals, and of but half its value to society. — This
thought is expressed in pages which I prefer to
borrow rather than attempt to adapt: “A man, if
he had but himself to think of, would stop short
in his career. As soon as he had provided for
his old age, would you, through fear of encourag-
ing idleness in the son, force the father himself
into idleness? But does it follow, that, by per-
mitting the hereditary transmission of property,
the son must necessarily be an idler, consuming
in sloth and debauchery the fortune left him by
his father? Firstly, we would ask, what does the
property which is to support the idleness of the
son represent, after all? It represents previous
work done by the father; and by hindering the
father from working in order to compel the son to
work for himself, all that is gained is that the son
must do what the father has not done. There will
have been no increase in the amount of work done.
In the system, on the contrary, in which the right
of inheritance is recognized, to the unlimited
labor of the father is added the unlimited labor of
the son; for it is untrue that the son remains idle
because the father has left him a more or less con-
siderable amount of property. To begin with, it
is rare for a father to leave his son the means
of doing nothing. It is only in cases of great
wealth that this happens. But usually, in most
professions, the father, in leaving the son his
inheritance, only procures for him a better start
in his career. He has only pushed him a little
further, a little higher; he has given him the
chance of working to greater advantage; of be-
ing a farmer, when he himself was only a farm
servant; of fitting out ten ships, when he could
fit out but one; of being a banker on a large
scale, when he was one only on a small one: or
of changing his position in life; of rising from
one to another; of becoming a lawyer, a doctor,
or a barrister; of being a Cicero or a Pitt, when
he himself was a simple gentleman, like Cicero's
father, or a cornet of a regiment, like Pitt's.”
Thus, the right of inheritance is necessary to
property, as property is to social Order; it is that
39()
PROPERTY.
right which, by permitting the accumulation of
wealth, creates capital and makes labor produc-
tive. The laws of all free and industrious peoples
sanction it; but it is so indispensable to the devel-
opment of families and the progress of Societies,
that were it not the invincible consequence of
human nature and of the social state, that, in a
word, if it did not exist, it would be necessary to
invent it. —IV. Olſections which have been raised
against the Principle of Property. The objections
which have been taken to the principle of prop-
erty are taken sometimes to the right, Sometimes
to the fact itself. The great opponent of property,
M. Proudhon, is forced to recognize, that, as the
possession of property has become general among
all classes, it has approached the ideal of justice.
But this more general possession of property, in-
separably connected with the advance of civiliza-
tion, does not disarm M. Proudhon's hostility, he
contests the principle of property itself. Prop-
erty, according to him, does not exist as a matural .
right; it is founded neither on occupation nor on
labor. “Since every man,” says this author, “has
the right to occupy from the simple fact that he
exists, and that to continue in existence he can
not dispense with a material of exploitation and of
labor; and since, on the other hand, the number
of occupants varies incessantly, owing to births
and deaths, it follows that the quantity of matter
which each worker may claim, is variable like
the number of occupants; that occupation is al-
ways subordinate to population; and finally, that,
possession never being able rightfully to remain
constant, it is, as a fact, impossible that it should
become the basis of property.”
paradox, all that is needed is to refute the point
from which it starts. The prerogatives of the in-
dividual and of the species do not embrace a nat-
ural right to occupation any more than they do a
natural right to labor. Undoubtedly, in the midst
of a vacant space, the man who first occupies a
field or a meadow, incloses it in bounds, and ap-
propriates it, becomes its lawful possessor; but it
is not by virtue of a right of possession inherent
in every man, but because the ground previously
belonged to no one, and because, in leaving his
impress on that ground, he is not interfering with
any previous right.—“A man,” says M. Proud-
hon, “who was forbidden to travel over the high-
ways, to rest in the fields, to take shelter in caves,
to light a fire, pick the wild berries, to gather
herbs and boil them in a piece of baked earth—
such a man could not live. Thus the earth, like
water, air and light, is a first necessity which each
ought to be able to use freely, without injury to
the enjoyment of them by another. Why, then,
is the earth appropriated?” This thesis might
have its good side in a condition of savagery. M.
Proudhon's theory might succeed among a nation
of hunters. But in an industrious and civilized
community, it is but a late and faded echo of the
declamations of J. J. Rousseau. Men nowadays
do not live on wild berries or on herbs gathered
in the fields; they are no longer reduced to live
in matter.
To dispose of this’
in caves, or to prepare coarse food in earthen
vessels. Civilization has bestowed on them pos-
Sessions which far more than compensate for any
supposed natural rights to gather wild fruit, to
hunt or to fish; and the humblest workingman of
the nineteenth century is certainly better lodged,
better clothed and better fed than the typical man
of M. Proudhon could be, with all his right to
common possession of the land. — After having
asserted that occupancy could not serve as a ba-
sis for property, M. Proudhon equally denies the
title of labor. Charles Comte had said: “A piece
of ground of fixed dimensions is only able to
produce sufficient food for the consumption of
one man for one day: if the owner by his labor
can make it produce enough for two days, he
doubles its value. This new value is his work,
his creation; it is not taken away from any one;
it is his property.” M. Proudhon answers: “I
maintain that the possessor is paid for his trouble
and his industry by the double return, but that
he acquires no right in the soil. I admit that the
laborer may make the product of his labor his
own, but I do not understand how property in
the product carries with it property in the soil, or
Does the fisherman who can Catch
more fish, on the same coast, than his companions,
become, because of his skill, proprietor of the
waters in which he fishes? Was a hunter's skill
ever looked upon as conferring on him a right of
property in the game of a whole canton? The
cases are precisely similar: the diligent husband-
man finds in a harvest, abundant and of better
quality, the recompense of his toil; if he has
made improvements on the soil, he has the right
to a preference as possessor of it; never, under
any consideration, can he be allowed to allege his
skill as a farmer as a title to property in the soil
he tills. To transform possession into property,
there is more needed than labor, otherwise man
would cease to be a proprietor as soon as he ceased
to be a laborer: now, what constitutes property,
is, according to the law, immemorial and uncon-
tested possession, that is, prescription; labor is
only the visible sign, the material act, by which
occupation is manifested.” – AS Sources of prop-
erty, occupation and labor are the complements
of each other. Possession would certainly be far
from lasting, if cultivation did not follow to
sanction it, by revealing and bringing into play
the productive forces of the soil; and as for labor,
it does not necessarily imply property, since a
farmer who has spent a large amount of Capital
in the improvement of the land he leases, while
he can demand compensation for that capital, does
not therefore acquire a right of property in the
domain. This much is true, and can be said with-
out exaggeration. But to suppose that the posses-
sor who has cultivated a piece of land, and who,
by so doing, has improved the land and increased
the capital which that land represents, to suppose
that he has no rights beyond the fruit of the year,
is a glaring error. To whom would this improved
land belong? Would any one bestow capital on
PROPERTY.
391
it, give it a new value, just that this value might
become the prize of the first comer? If this were
So, no one would work. — M. Proudhon admits
that the husbandman who has improved land
“has the right to a preference in possession.”
Here, then, is another case, and the case presents
itself often, in which property, to use the lan-
guage of Proudhon's book, ceases to be robbery.
There is no doubt that the proprietor has no need
to work to preserve his right: but work adds to
the titles of property, and makes them still more
honorable. Now, the possessor who cultivates,
even if he does not add to the value of the land,
would very soon grow tired of his passion for
work, if he were only allowed to receive from it
the produce of one harvest. Agriculture is the
'offspring of permanency in property, and with-
out the guarantees which the law attaches to pos-
session, agriculture would make no progress. M.
Proudhon has only to look at what happens to
the best of land when in the hands of nomadic
tribes, among whom the land is only scratched to
secure the meagre harvest of the year. — But, it
will be said, the land thus conceded in perpetuity
is, little by little, sequestered, invaded; and the
last comers are likely to see both hemispheres en-
tirely filled up by the heirs of the first who occu.
pied the land, or of those who wrested it, by vio-
lence or by fraud, from its original owners.
Even if all this were so, the misfortune does not
seem to us a very great one. Land, thanks to the
progress of industry, is not the only source of
wealth. The man who does not own a farm may
buy a house, start a factory, or have an interest
in Some scheme for transportation. Property,
supposing there were not enough for all in the
form of land, would show itself abundant under
new forms. Previous appropriation of the soil,
instead of robbing future races, really tends to en-
rich them. — Very high intellects refuse to admit
this supposed confiscation of the soil to the det-
riment of the latest comers. M. Thiers gives us
considerations on this point which are decisive.
I shall try to epitomize them here. “Some engi-
neers have thought that there was coal enough in
the bowels of the earth to last indefinitely, while
others have thought, that, at the rate at which in-
dustry was advancing, there was not enough for
a hundred years. Should we, then, abstain from
using it, lest there should be none for our poster-
ity? # * The society which should abolish
property in land for fear of the earth’s whole sur-
face being invaded, would be every whit as ab-
surd. Let us make our minds easy on that score.
European nations have not yet cultivated, some
the quarter, others the tenth part, of their terri-
tories; and of the entire globe not the thousandth.
part is occupied. Great nations have run their
course hitherto, without having brought under
cultivation more than a very small part of their
dominions. Nations have passed through youth,
maturity and old age; they have had time to lose
their characteristics, their genius, their institu-
tions, all that they lived by, without having, we
will not say, completed, but even much advanced,
the cultivation of their territory. After all, space
is nothing. Often, on the widest extent of land,
men find it hard to live; and often, on the other
hand, they live in plenty on the narrowest strip
of ground. An acre of land in England or in
Flanders supports a hundred times more inhabit-
ants than an acre in the sands of Poland or of
Russia. Man carries with him fertility; wherever
he appears the grass grows and corn springs up.
He brings with him his cattle, and wherever he
settles he spreads around him a fertilizing soil.
If, then, a day could be imagined when every
corner of the globe should be inhabited, man
would obtain from the same superficies ten times,
a hundred times, nay a thousand times, more
than he obtains to-day. What need be despaired
of when the sands of Holland are transformed into
fertile ground by man? Were he cramped for
room, the sands of the Sahara, of the Arabian des-
ert, of the desert of Cobi, would be covered by
the fruitfulness which follows him; he would lay
out in terraces the sides of the Atlas, of the Him-
alayas, of the Cordilleras, and cultivation would
climb the steepest summits of the globe, and
would only stop where, from the elevation, all
vegetation ceases. This surface of the globe, in-
vaded as is said, will not fail future generations,
and, meanwhile, does not fail those of the pres-
ent: for everywhere land is offered to men; it is
offered them in Russia, on the banks of the Bory-
sthenes, the Don and the Volga; in America, on
the banks of the Mississippi, the Orinoco, and the
Amazon; in France, on the coast of Africa, Once
the granary of the Roman empire. But emigrants
do not always accept, and when they do, if noth-
ing be added to the gift of the land, they go to
their death on those distant shores. Why? Be-
cause it is not surface which is wanting, but sur-
face covered with constructions, plantations, inclo-
sures, the works of appropriation. Now, all these
things exist only where former generations have
been at the pains to put everything in Such a po-
sition that the labor of the new comers may be
immediately productive.” — It is plain, then, that
the earth, in spite of the extent of property, is
not going to fail man. It is property well estab-
lished, fenced around with guarantees, and be-
come hereditary, which makes the land habitable
and productive. Let us add, that under this
régime the lot of the cultivator or filler of the
soil improves more rapidly than that of the owner.
Property is in a special way a benefit to labor.
(Compare CoMMUNISM, MoMOPOLY, LAND, So-
CIALISM, etc.)” L. FAUCHER.
* Property and the family are two ideas, for the attack and
defense of which legions of writers have taken up arms dur-
ing the last half century. Recent systems, founded upon old
errors, but revived by the popular emotions which they
aroused, have in vain disturbed, misrepresented, sometimes
even denied, them. These ideas express necessary facts,
which, under diverse forms, have been and will always be
coming forth; they may thus be justly regarded as the funda-
mental principles of all political Society, because from them
originate, to a great extent, the two principal objects which
392
PROPERTY.
PROPERTY, Landed. (See RENT.)
PROPERTY, Literary. Under the heading
of “Copyright” (see vol. i., p. 642), Mr. Macleod
has given a comprehensive summary of the growth
of the conception of literary property, and a speci-
concern social laws, namely, the rights of man over things,
and his duties toward his fellow-men, - The Right of Prop-
erty. If man acquires rights over things, it is because he is
at once active, intelligent and free; by his activity he spreads
over external nature; by his intelligence he governs it, and
bends it to his use; by his liberty, he establishes between
himself and it the relation of cause and effect and makes
it his own. — Nature has not for man the provident tender-
ness imagined by the philosophers of the eighteenth century,
and dreamed of before them by the poets of antiquity when
they described the golden age. She does not lavish her treas-
ures in order to make life flow smoothly along in abundance
and idleness for mortals; on the contrary, she is severe, and
yields her treasures only at the price of constant labor; she
maltreats those who have not sufficient strength or intelli-
gence to subdue her, and when we consider the primitive
races whom the arts of civilization had not yet raised above
her, we may ask ourselves, with Pliny, if she did not show
herself a step-mother rather than a mother. Left to itself,
the earth presents (here deserts, there marshes or inextrica-
ble forests; the most fertile portions are ordinarily the most
inaccessible, because, situated in the valleys, they are en-
croached upon by stagnant waters, and infected by the mi-
asms which exhale from them, or haunted by noxious an-
imals which seek their food there; poisonous plants grow
among the nutritious ones, without any outward sign by
which to distinguish them, while yet we have not the warn-
ing of instinct which the animals have. The best fruits
themselves have as yet, for the most part, only a coarse savor
before cultivation has corrected their bitterness. Doubtless
man can live, as he has, amidst this indifferent or hostile
nature; but he would live there, timid and fearful as the roe
of the forests, isolated, or collected in small groups, and lost
in the immense spaces, in which his frail existence would be
but an accident in the luxuriant life of organized beings; he
would not feel himself at home, and would in very fact be
like a stranger on an earth which he would not have fash-
ioned according to his will, and where he would be neither
the swiftest in the chase, the best protected against cold, nor
the best armed for strife. —What even now distinguished
him from other creatures, in this state of profound barba-
rism, were the divine powers of soul with which he was
gifted. However torpid they might as yet have been, they
would have taught him, without any doubt, to emerge from
his nakedness and his feebleness: from the earliest times,
they would have suggested the means of arming his hand
with an axe of stone, like those which, buried in the calcare-
ous deposits of another age, tell us to-day of the miserable
beginning of our race upon the globe; they would have
taught him to protect his body against the cold with the skin
of the bear, and to shield his home and family from the at-
tacks of ferocious beasts by arranging a cave for his use or
building a hut in the midst of water, not far from the shore
of a lake. But already man would have left upon matter
Some impress of his personality, and the reign of property
would have begun. —When centuries have elapsed, and gen-
erations have accumulated their labors, where is there, in a
civilized country, a clod of earth, a leaf, which does not bear
this impress? In the town, we are surrounded by the works
of man; we walk upon a level pavement or a beaten road; it
is man who made healthy the formerly muddy soil, who took
from the side of a far-away hill the flint or stone which covers
it. We live in houses; it is man who has dug the stone from
the quarry, who has hewn it, who has planed the wood; it is
the thought of man which has arranged the materials prop-
erly and made a building of what was before rock and
wood. And in the country, the action of man is still every-
where present; men have cultivated the soil, and generations
of laborers have mellowed and enriched it; the works of man
have dammed the rivers and created fertility where the waters
had brought only desolation; to-day man goes as far as to
people the rivers, to direct the growth of fish, and takes
fication of the enactments in Great Britain under
which its status has been defined and regulated.
He has also made reference to the copyright acts
of Some of the other states of Europe, as they
stood twenty years ago. We here propose to sup-
plement Mr. Macleod's statistics with such later
possession of the empire of the waters. We reap the wheat,
our principal food. Where is it found in a wild state? Wheat
is a domestic plant, a species transformed by man for the
wants of man. Thus products, natives of countries most di-
verse have been brought together, grafted, modified by man
for the adornment of the garden, the pleasures of the table,
or the labors of the workshop. The very animals, from the
dog, man's companion, to the cattle raised for the shambles
have been fashioned into new types which deviate sensibly
from the primitive type given by nature. Everywhere a
powerful hand is divined which has moulded matter, and an
intelligent will which has adapted it, following a uniform
plan, to the satisfaction of the wants of one same being.
Nature has recognized her master, and man feels that he is at
home in nature. Nature has been appropriated by him for
his use; she has become his own ; she is his property. —
This property is legitimate; it constitutes a right as sacred for
man as is the free exercise of his faculties. It is his because
it has come entirely from himself, and is in no way anything
but an emanation from his being. Before him, there was
Scarcely anything but matter; since him, and by him, there
is interchangeable wealth, that is to say, articles having ac-
quired a value by Some industry, by manufacture, by hand-
ling, by extraction, or simply by transportation. From the
picture of a great master, which is perhaps of all material
productions that in which matter plays the smallest part, to
the pail of water which the carrier draws from the river and
takes to the consumer, wealth, whatever it may be, acquires
its value only by communicated qualities, and these qualities
are part of human activity, intelligence, strength. The pro-
ducer has left a fragment of his own person in the thing
which has thus become valuable, and may hence be regarded
as a prolongation of the faculties of man acting upon exter-
mal nature. As a free being he belongs to himself; now, the
cause, that is to say, the productive force, is himself; the ef-
fect, that is to say, the wealth produced, is still himself.
Who shall dare contest his title of ownership so clearly
marked by the seal of his personality? — Some authors have
tried to establish the principle of property on the right of the
first occupant. This is a narrow view: occupation is a fact,
and not a principle. It is one of the signs by which the tak-
ing of possession manifests itself, but it is not sufficient to
make it valid before the philosopher or the lawyer. Let a
man land upon a desert, and say: “As far as my eye can
reach, from this shore to the hills which bound the horizon
yonder, this land is mine"; no one would accept such oc-
cuation for a bona fide title. But let the man settle upon.
the most fertile hill-side, build a hut there, cultivate the sur-
rounding fields, and the possession of the portion actually
occupied will become a right, because he has performed a
proprietary act, that is to say, has by his labor thereon im-
pressed on it the seal of his personality. International law.
makes a distinction, in regard to this, between individuals
and states; what it refuses to the former, it grants to the lat-
ter; and it recognizes the validity of a summary taking of
possession, which does not injure any anterior right. It is
because the occupation is of an entirely different nature:
the one having as its object useful possession, the other sov-
ereignty, which implies only a general protection; the proof
of this is, that in modern society the sovereignty frequently
passes from one state to another without property changing
hands.” Montesquieu wrote : “As men have renounced
their natural independence in order to live under political
laws, they have renounced their natural community of pos-
session to live under civil laws. The political laws gave them
liberty; the civil laws, property.” Bentham enlarged upon
the same thought: “Property and law were born together, and
* The word “cultivate ’’ (to work and sow) must not be taken
too literally; possession of land may also be taken by placing
flocks on it, by opening a mine on it, or otherwise. And if the
government has taken possession in the manner indicated in the
text, and an individual buys a piece of ground from it, this
ground becomes individual property even if left unoccupied.
PROPERTY.
393
data as can now be obtained, to include the speci-
fication (not to be found in Mr. Macleod’s article)
of the copyright acts of the United States, and
also to present some of the questions that have aris-
en concerning literary property between nations,
and to describe the conventions in force or under
will die together. Before law, there was no property; take
away the law, and all property ceases.” This was a narrow
view. Montesquieu and Bentham, in order to consider but
one side of the question, approached very near an exceedingly
dangerous error, for it led to this consequence, that if the
law had made property, the law could unmake it, and undid
the very foundation which the authors intended to lay. It is
evident that property originated before law, as before the
formation of any regular society, since there has been appro-
priation of a certain part of matter ever since man has lived,
and began, in order to subsist, to extend his hand and his
intelligence about him. Property and the family have been
the cause, and not the effect, of society; and the laws, to
follow the beautiful definition placed by Montesquieu him-
Self at the beginning of his work, “are the necessary rela-
tions which flow from the nature of things”; the laws have
consecrated this necessary relation which was established
between man and matter, but they have not erected a relation
which would have been factitious and accidental. It is true
that, without law, property has no guarantee against vio-
lence, and that it lacks security and solidity. But what right
is there the exercise of which would be secure outside of the
social condition? — It is also true that there are certain kinds
of property which could not be produced without the pro-
tection of social law, because an advanced civilization and
good government have the effect of widening the circle in
which human activity can with safety move, and conse-
quently extend the field of property. It is true, in short,
that, in a certain number of particular cases in which natural
right does not furnish sufficient light, the law decides and
determines thus a positive right of property which it might
perhaps determine otherwise, because it is important, in well
organized Society, that nothing, in such a matter, should
remain in uncertainty, abandoned to the caprice of arbitrary
power. But care must be taken not to confound a particular
form or case with the principle of right itself. —It is, then,
to the human being, the creator of all wealth, that we must
come back; it is upon liberty that it is expedient to base the
principle of property, and if any one would know by what
sign it is to be recognized, we will answer that it is by labor
that man impresses his personality on matter. It is labor
which cultivates the earth and makes on an unoccupied
waste an appropriated field; it is labor which makes of an
untrodden forest a regularly ordered wood; it is labor, or,
rather, a series of labors often executed by a very numerous
succession of workmen, which brings hemp from seed, thread
from hemp, cloth from thread, clothing from cloth; which
transforms the shapeless pyrite, picked up in the mine, into
an elegant bronze which adorns some public place, and re-
peats to an entire people the thought of an artist. It is labor
which is the distinctive sign of property; it is the condition
(or the means) of it, not the principle, which traces its ori-
gin to the liberty of the human soul. — Property, made mani-
fest by labor, participates in the rights of the person whose
emanation it is; like him, it is inviolable so long as it does
not extend so far as to come into collision with another right;
like him, it is individual, because it has its origin in the inde-
pendence of the individual, and because, when several per-
sons have co-operated in its formation, the latest possessor
has purchased with a value, the fruit of his personal labor,
the work of all the fellow-laborers who have preceded him:
this is what is usually the case with manufactured articles.
When property has passed, by sale or by inheritance, from one
hand to another, its conditions have not changed; it is still
the fruit of human liberty manifested by labor, and the
holder has the same rights as the producer who took posses-
Sion of it by right. — Violence, confiscation, fraud, conquest,
have more than once disturbed the natural order of property,
and mixed their impure springs with the pure source of labor.
But they have not changed the principle. Does the theft by
which a lucky rascal is enriched interfere with the fact that
labor is necessary for the production of wealth? Moreover,
V
consideration for international copyright. — Dur-
ing the past twenty years, there has been a very
considerable increase in the extent of international
literary exchanges, and a fuller recognition, at
least in Europe, of the propriety and necessity of
bringing these under the control of international
we must not exaggerate at pleasure the extent of these devia-
tions from the general rule. It has been said that if we could
go back to the origin of all landed property, possibly none
would be found untainted with some one of these vices, on
the soil of old Europe, overrun and Successively occupied by
so many hordes of invaders in ancient times and the middle
ages. But how far would we have to go back across the cen-
turies? So far that it could not be told in the case of ninety-
nine hundredths of landed estates, except by mere conjecture,
based on the probabilities of history. French laws, for in-
stance, have established the thirty-years limitation, firstly,
because it is necessary, in order to give some fixity to prop-
erty, that it should not be left exposed to endless claims, and
then, because long possession is itself a title, and because a
man who has himself or by his tenantry, or farmers, put con-
tinuous labor on the same soil for a generation, has made, so
to speak, the property his own. Now what is this short legal
limitation beside the long limitation of ages, and how would
any one dare contest the lawfulness of the owner's right
over lands now richly cultivated, covered with farms and
manufactories, under the pretext that a Frank of the fourth.
century expelled from them a Gaul who was herding his
flocks there? On the land has accumulated immovable
wealth, which has sometimes increased the value of it a
hundred-fold, and the origin and transmission of which are
equally lawful. Out of the soil has grown the personal
wealth which now forms a large part of the patrimony of
society, and this wealth, the fruit of modern labor, is for the
greater part free from the stain of brute force. War is no
longer in our day a means of existence; it is rather a cause
of ruin; conquerors aspire to usurp sovereignty, but they
respect property. The political societies which have settled
in new worlds, in America and Australia, have been estab-
lished for the greater part by the clearings of the pioneers
who made the land what it is, and bequeathed it to their
children. There has been little or no violence there, in the
many places where they have not had to strive against Savage
tribes, even in the occupation of the land. In the main, if
we consider property as a wholē, how small a place is occu-
pied by the exception as compared with the rule, by violence
as compared with labor — Social Utility of Property. What
is just is always useful. Property has such a character of
social utility that society could not exist without property,
and there is no thriving society without individual property.
Therefore, when persons have desired to base property upon
utility, arguments were certainly not lacking; but utility,
which must be taken great account of in political subjects, is,
as we have remarked, a result, and not a principle, and we
must content ourselves with saying that the excellent effects
of property corroborate the lawfulness of the right. “Man,”
says M. Thiers, “has a first property in his person and his
faculties; he has a second, less adherent in his being, but not
less sacred, in the product of these faculties, which embraces
all that is called the goods of this world, and which society
is deeply interested in guaranteeing to him; for without this
guarantee there would be no labor, without labor no civiliza-
tion, not even the most necessary. but only misery, robbery
and barbarism.” We can not imagine a Society entirely
devoid of the idea of property; but we can conceive of one,
and even find such in history, where property is in a rudi-
mentary condition, and it would not be difficult to prove
that such a condition is indeed, as M. Thiers says, misery
and barbarism. Man is not a god; labor, which is a health-
ful exercise for both soul and body, is at the same time pain-
ful; it is only at the cost of an effort that man realizes his
thought in matter, and oftentimes he would not make this
effort, so painful to him, if he were not encouraged by the
thought of producing a useful effect, and of himself enjoying
the result of it. Who would take the trouble to fell a tree,
to divide it into boards, if he knew that the next day a Sav-
age would seize upon it to make a fire with it, or even build
a hut? Activity would have no object, because it would
394
PROPERTY.
law. Americans also are beginning to appreciate
how largely the intellectual development of their
nation must be affected by all that influences the
development of the national literature, and to
recognize the extent to which such development
must depend upon the inducements extended to
have no certain compensation; it would retire within itself,
like the Snail when threatened by danger, and would not
venture out save for the satisfaction of the most immedi-
ate wants or the creation of property the easiest to defend
—the hunting of game, or the manufacture of a bow or
of an axe. In societies which have already risen to a cer-
tain degree of civilization, but which have not sufficient
respect for property, this social imperfection alone is enough
to impede progress and to keep men for centuries at a
low level, to rise above which requires unheard-of efforts,
and, above all, the knowledge of right. “All travelers,”
says M. Thiers elsewhere, “have been struck by the state of
languor, of misery, and of greedy usury, in countries where
property is not sufficiently protected. Go to the east, where
deSpotism claims to be the sole owner, or what amounts to the
Samething, go back to the middle ages, and you will see every-
where the same features; the land neglected, because it is
the prey most exposed to the greediness of tyranny, and re-
served for the slaves, who have no choice of employment;
commerce preferred, as being able to escape more easily from
exaction.” A melancholy picture, but which has long been
and still is, on a large portion of our globe, the true picture
of humanity. When property, on the contrary, is fully
recognized, respected and protected in its various forms,
man does not fear to let his activity radiate in every direc-
tion. The picture of society is then entirely different: in
place of a few thin, boughless shrubs, there will be seen a
forest of immense oaks, spreading their branches far and
wide, and exhibiting trunks more vigorous in proportion to
the greater number of pores through which they breathe air
and life. Far from injuring each other, men sustain each
other by their individual development. For property is not
a common fund fixed in advance, which is diminished by the
amount which each appropriates; it is, as we have said, a
creation of the intelligent force which dwells in man; each
creation is added to the previous creations, and, putting new
vigor into commerce, facilitates ulterior creations. The prop-
erty of one, far from limiting for others the possibility of
becoming owners, on the contrary increases this possibility;
it is the strongest stimulus to production, the pivot of eco-
nomical progress; and if the nature of things had not made
a law with regard to it, anterior to all agreement, human law
would have established it as the institution pre-eminently
useful to the welfare and morality of nations. – History of
Property. It will be understood, that, although the principle
of property is always the same, it has not been comprehended
and applied in the same manner at all times and in all coun-
tries. It is with the right of property as with most natural
rights, which remain long buried in barbarism, and emerge
from it gradually with the progress of civilization. We tend
at present toward the plenitude of the right of property, and
the most advanced nations of Europe and the new world
appear to be not very far from the ideal of our conception.
But how many centuries has it taken to free it from the exi-
gencies or the ignorance of the past? The savages of America,
who did not cultivate the soil, had no idea of landed property;
custom made Sacred the right of possession only for personal
property; the land was common to all; it was a vast ter-
ritory for fishing and hunting, open to all belonging to the
tribe, but defended with jealous care against the encroach-
ments of the neighboring tribes. When they improved and
formed Societies wisely organized, as in Mexico and Peru,
they were necessarily obliged to take into account the appro-
priation of land, but their ideas even then did not rise to in-
dividual property. “No one,” says Robertson, speaking of
Peru, “had an exclusive right over the portion allotted to
him. He possessed it only for a year. At the expiration of
that time, a new division was made according to the rank,
the number and the necessities of the family. All these
lands were cultivated by the common labor of all the mem-
bers of the community.” In Mexico the grandees had indi-
vidual property, but, he adds, “the bulk of the nation pos-
literary producers, as well as upon the character
of the competition with which these producers.
have to contend. — Literary property is defined
by Drone as “the exclusive right of the owner to:
possess, use and dispose of intellectual produc-
tions,” and copyright, as “the exclusive right of
sessed the lands in a widely different manner. A certain
quantity of land was allotted to each district proportionate to
the number of families which formed it. This land was cul-
tivated by the labor of the whole community. The produce
was taken to a common warehouse, and divided among the
families according to their respective needs.” — The prim-
itive nations do not appear to have risen much higher in the
conception of the idea of property. Among the pastoral
peoples of the east, property, composed principally of per-
Sonal property and cattle, was almost wholly in the hands of
the father of the family, of the patriarch, of the chief of the
tribe; such are the customs of the Arabs, and we find them
to-day in Algeria, where the land belonging to the mem-
bers of the same douar or village in common, is distributed
among them by the cažd. The same system, ascending from
the head of a family to the prince, has concentrated all prop-
erty in the hands of eastern despots, and enfeebled the prog-
ress of those beautiful countries by cutting into the roots of
individual activity. The Jewish law had conceived the idea
of the cancellation of personal debts every seven years and
the restoration of alienated lands every fourteen years, at the
great jubilee, with the view of retaining property in the same
tribes and families: a law, which appears, however, not to
have been very well observed. In Greece, Sparta and Athens
there were indicated two opposite tendencies: one mutilating
and suppressing almost the right of property, in order to
fashion the citizen according to the will of the state; the
other insuring, notwithstanding certain restrictions, civil
liberty; but it is easy to see to which side the preferences of
the philosophers inclined. Even in the laws, in which he
tries to create a practical policy, Plato expresses himself
thus: “I declare to you, as a legislator, that I regard you and
your property as belonging, not to yourselves, but to your
family, and your entire family, with its property, as belong-
ing still more to the state.” Rome, while sanctioning ter-
ritorial property more solemnly than most other ancient
governments, guaranteed it to her own citizens only, and
centred it in the hands of the father of the family; conquest,
moreover, was still among the principal modes of acquisi-
tion, and had given rise to immense possessions of the state
(ager publicus) and to the agrarian laws. TXuring the empire
the jurisconsults, under the influence of the new ideas prop-
agated by the stoic philosophy and the Christian religion, set
themselves to extricate persons too closely confined by family
bonds, and property was the gainer by this advance in liberty.
But in the middle ages the feudal system weighed heavily
upon the land; confounding the ideas of property and sov-
ereignty, it made the possessor of the land master of chattels
and persons, bound both the one and the other by a multi-
plicity of bonds, the serfs to the glebe, the lords to the fief,
and interwove society in a vast net-work of reciprocal Servi-
tudes. Personal property, long smothered by these various
systems, showed itself only with timidity, under the shelter
of the franchise, in the guilds of the arts and trades; the laws
of the princes protected it only by keeping it under strict
tutelage; it gradualiy increased, however, and was even be-
ginning to develop quite rapidly, when the discoveries of
Christopher Columbus and Vasco da Gama had opened the
great course of the ocean to maritime commerce. But, at
this period, the absolute power of kings was being raised
upon the ruins of feudalism in the principal states of western
Europe, and if property freed itself somewhat de facto from
bonds put on it, it de jure only changed masters without
acquiring any further independence. Louis XIV., who may
be regarded as the most illustrious and most fully convinced
representative of absolute power, wrote, for the instruction of
the dauphin: “Everything within the extent of our states,
of whatever nature, belongs to us by the same title. You
should be fully convinced that kings are absolute lords, and
have naturally the full and free disposition of all property
possessed as well by the clergy as the laity, to use as wise
stewards.” About a century later, in 1809, another Sovereign,
PROPERTY.
395
the owner to multiply and to dispose of copies of
an intellectual production.”—The English statute
(5 & 6 Wictoria) defines copyright to mean “the
sole and exclusive liberty of printing or otherwise
multiplying copies of any subject to which the
word is herein applied.”— The American statute
not less absolute, said, during a session of the council of
state: “Property is inviolable. Napoleon himself, with the
numerous armies at his command, could not take possession
of a single field, for to violate the right of property in one,
is to violate it in all.” His actions did not always exactly
conform to this theory; nevertheless, this declaration shows
what progress the idea of property had made in France, from
the eighteenth to the nineteenth century. This was because
the eighteenth century had passed between the two periods,
and although it had not itself a clear idea of the sacred char-
acter of property, since it based it upon utility and the law,
and declared it to have originated in a so-called primitive
community, it had, nevertheless, shaken off the yoke of
feudal servitude and the divine right of kings; it had plead-
ed the cause of liberty, and the revolution had made this
cause triumph, by emancipating man, labor and the land;
property could now be produced under its principal forms.
— Of the Objections to Property. Property triumphed with
liberty, one of the forms of which it is. It was just the
time when it was about to be obliged to defend itself against
the most malevolent adversaries, who attacked it in the
name of a pretended equality; jealous of seeing large for-
tunes displaying themselves side by side with extreme pov-
erty, they foolishly believed that to deprive of the fruits
of their labor those who had lawfully acquired them, was
to encourage labor and to relieve poverty. The conven-
tion, guided by principles entirely different from those of
the constituent assembly, slid more than once down this
declivity, and following the convention, Gracchus Baboeuf
collected and exaggerated the doctrines of the mountain out
of which he created modern communism. “When,” says
he, “Ulle minority in a statc have succeeded in engrossing
landed and industrial wealth, and by this means hold the
majority under their rod, and use their power to cause them
to languish in want, the fact should be recognized that this
encroachment could take place only under the protection of
the government, and then what the old administration failed
to do in its time to prevent the abuse or to repress it at its
birth, the present administration should do, in order to re-
establish the equilibrium which should never have been lost,
and the authority of the law should effect an immediate change
in the direction of the ultimate principle of the perfected
government, of the Social contract : that all should have
enough, and no one too much.” There have been at all times
those who have dreamed of a community of property, and
who could do so the better, as individual property was in
their time less extended and less firmly estalished. Plato
wrote his “Republic”; Campanella, his “City of the Sun”;
Thomas More, his “Utopia”; Fenelon, his “Baetica” and his
“Government of Salentum ”; but they created a speculative
philosophy rather than a policy, and intended, above all, to
trace for mankind an ideal of virtue: a mistaken, erroneous
conception, but more disinterested, nevertheless, than that.
of modern communists. The principal object of the latter is
enjoyment; their theories have been suggested by the sight
of the wealth which was increasing rapidly in modern soci-
ety, but distributing its favors in an unequal manner, as it
proportioned them to the labor, to the intelligence, to the
capital of each one and to the circumstances of production:
they have wished that those less favored should have a larger
share without laving a heavier burden of labor, and they
have conceived of no better way to do this than to limit or
confiscate capital, that is to say, property, which is the lever
of labor. — The Saint-Simonians, to attain this end, proposed
to organize a powerful priesthood, composed of the ablest
men in science, the arts and manufactures. This priesthood
would have given an impetus to all Society; the priest would
have been “the living law "; there would have been no
longer emperor nor pope; there would have been a father
“disposing of all the capital and products, and distributing
them to each according to his merits.” They arrived at this
conclusion, that “all property is property of the church,”
(U. S. Rev. Stat., Sec. 4952) speaks of copyright
in a book as “the sole liberty of printing, reprint-
ing, publishing, * * and vending the same.”—The
French constitutional convention adopted, in Jan-
uary, 1791, a report prepared by Chopelin, which
declares that : La plus Sacré, la plus ºn attaquable,
and that “every kind of business is a religious function.”
They did not see that property is the very reward of the la-
bor which they were extolling, and the fruit of the economy
without which labor, deprived of capital, is reduced to impo-
tence; they did not see that hereditary transmission is the
consequence and the extension of property, and, under pre-
tense of increasing social wealth, wealth which, for lack of
being managed and renewed by the force of individual inter-
ests, would have insensibly melted away in the hands of their
high priest, they ended in an immense despotism; in order to
pursue the shadow of comfort, they would have forfeited,
without knowing it, their real welfare, and they did not hesi-
tate knowingly to sacrifice liberty, the most important of all
possessions in a society of civilized men. This is where the
first of the systems hostile to property would have led to. –
That of Fourier dates from about the same period, that is to
say, the consulate. But it found no echo until after the great
eclat which Saint-Simonism caused at the beginning of the
reign of Louis Philippe. Fourier was not, properly speaking,
a communist; he proclaimed liberty, and admitted capital.
But, in fact, he incloses both the one and the other in a sys-
tem of exploitation in common which maims them; there is
no longer but one kind of liberty, that of abandoming one's
self without restraint to one's various appetites; there is no
longer but one kind of property, that of the phalanstery. Is
that truly liberty which, with a firm will for a guide and re-
sponsibility for a guarantee, directs the Spirit of man toward
a definitive end? Is this truly property, that is to say, the
full and entire possession of the various things which man
has appropriated to himself by labor? — The latest adversary
of property is M. Proudhon, who in a famous pamphlet has
taken up again a paradox of Brissot's, viz., that property is
theft. M. Proudhon does not recognize, either in possession
or labor, sufficient reasons to justify property. “Since every
man,” he says, “has the right to possess simply because he
exists and can not do without material for exploitation and
labor in order to live; and since, on the other hand, the num-
ber of occupants varies continually by birth and death, it
follows that the quantity of material to which each laborer
may lay claim is changeable, like the number of occupants;
consequently, that possession is always subordinate to the
population; finally, that, as possession in law can never re-
main fixed, it is, in fact, impossible that it should become
property.” Elsewhere, in answering the argument of Ch.
Comte, who sees a title to property in the superior value ob-
tained by the possessor when the latter, thanks to his labors,
has drawn subsistence for two persons from Soil which had
formerly fed but one, M. Proudhon adds: “I maintain that
the possessor is doubly paid for his trouble and his industry,
but that he acquires no right to the land. Let the laborer
claim the fruits as his own; I grant that he should have them,
but I do not understand that the ownership of the produce
involves that of the material.” This concession places all
personal property outside of litigation, as it consists entirely
of the produce which the laborer has made his own and has
not consumed. There remains landed property, or, to ex-
press it more clearly, the very small portion of the value of
real estate which is not the result of labor, a personal capital
buried in the soil and confounded with it. Now, no econo-
mist maintains that every man, on coming into this world,
has a right to a portion of it, and especially to a portion equal
to that of others in the very country in which he is born.
Possession is a fact, and not a right; it may give rise to a
right when, having taken place upon land still unpossessed,
it is sanctioned by labor; that is all. Society guarantees the
rights of individuals, it is her first duty; in the system of M.
Proudhon she would commit the double fault of wishing to
do them too much good by seeking to make a fortune for
them, and of doing them too much harm by spoiling Some of
a right logically anterior to herself, for the purpose of endow-
ing others with a gratuitous benefit. — (The above note is the
joint production of L. Wolowski and Emile Levasseur.—ED.)
396
PROPERTY.
et, 8% je pu's parler aims?, la plus persomelle de toutes
les propriétés, est l'ouvrage, fruit de la pensée d'un
eerivain. And in the decree rendered by the con-
vention, July 10, 1793, the preamble (written by
Lakanal) declares that de toutes les propriétés, la
7moëns Susceptible de contestation, c'est, Sam's contrédit,
celle des productions du génie : et si quelque chose
peut étonner, c'est qu'il ait fallu reconnaitre cette
propriété, assurer son libre eacercice par wme loi posi-
tive, c'est qu'une auss' grande revolution que la
7\otre dºt 6té mécessaire pour mous ramemex' sur ce
point, comme sur tout d'autres, awa, simples élé-
Aménts de la justice la plus commune. — The act
relating to copyright, adopted by the Reichstag of
Germany, in April, 1871, declares that Das Recht,
eim Schriftwerk auf mechanischem Wege 2u verviel-
föltgen, steht dem Urheber desselben ausschliesslich
2u. — Coppinger defines copyright as “the sole
and exclusive right of multiplying copies of an
Original work or composition,” and says that the
right of an author “to the productions of his
mental exertions, may be classed among the spe-
Cies of property acquired by occupancy; being
founded on labor and invention.”— Francis Lieber
says (in an address delivered April 6, 1868), “The
main roots of all property whatsoever are appro-
priation and production. * * Property # *
precedes government. If a man appropriates
what belongs to no one (for instance, the trunk of
a tree), and if he produces a new thing (for in-
stance, a canoe) out of that tree, this product is
verily his own, “ ” and any one who in turn
attempts to appropriate it without the process of
exchange, is an intruder, a robber. * * The
whole right of property * * rests on appropriation
and production: and I appeal to the intuitive con-
viction of every thinking man to say whether a
literary work, such as Baker's description of his
toilSome journeys, or Goethe's Faust, is not a
production in the fullest sense of the word, even
more so than a barrel of herrings, which have
been appropriated in the North sea, and pickled
and barreled by the fishermen; and whether any
one has a right to meddle with this property by
production, any more than you or I with the bar-
rel of herrings.” — Drone says: “There can be
no property in a production of the mind unless it
is expressed in a definite form of words. But the
property is not in the words alone; it is in the
intellectual creation, which language is merely a
means of expressing and communicating.” It is
evident that copyright is in its nature akin to
patent right, which also represents the legal recog-
nition of the existence of property in an idea or a
group of ideas, or the form of expression of an
idea.—International patent rights have, however,
been recognized and carried into effect more gen-
erally than have copyrights. The patentee of an
improved toothpick would be able to secure to-
day a wider recognition of his right than has been
accorded to the author of “Uncle Tom's Cabin’”
or of “Adam Bede.”— Almost the sole exception
to this consensus of civilized opinion on the status
of literary property is presented by Henry C. |
Carey.
He took the position that “Ideas are the
common property of mankind. Facts are every-
body's facts. Words are free to all men. * *
Examine Macaulay’s ‘History of England,’ and
you will find that the body is composed of what
is common property.” Of Prescott, Bancroft and
Webster he says: “They did nothing but repro-
duce ideas that were common property.” Of
Scott and Irving, “They made no contribution to
knowledge.” (“Letters on Copyright,” Phila.,
1854.) Therefore, the author of a work has no
right of property in the book he has made. He
took the common stock and worked it over: and
One man has just as good a right to it as another.
If the author is allowed to be the owner of his
works, the public are deprived of their rights.
Property in books is robbery. But this is simply
a partial or specific application of the well-known
formula of Proudhon : “Property is robbery,” a
theory which it is not necessary to discuss in this
paper. — The conception of literary property was
known to the ancients. A recompense of some
Sort to the author was regarded as a natural right,
and any one contravening it as little better than a
robber. Klostermann says: “The first germs of
a recognition of a property in thought are to be
found in the agreements which authors entered
into with the booksellers for the multiplication
and sale of copies of their works, and in the cus-
tom to treat as unlawful any infringement upon
the bookseller's right in a work which had been
so transferred to him. The booksellers among
the Romans succeeded, through the use of slave
labor, in producing duplicates of their manu-
Scripts at So low a cost, that the use and produc-
tions, centuries later, of the first printing presses,
were hardly cheaper.”, Martial records, in one
of his epigrams, that the edition of his “Xenii”
could be bought from the bookseller Tryphon for
four sesterces, the equivalent of about twelve and
a half cents. He grumbles at this price as being
too high, and claims that the bookseller would
have been able to get a profit from a charge of
half that amount. This poet appears to have had
not less than four publishers in charge of the sale
of his works, one of whom was a freedman of
the second Lucensis. The latter issued a special
pocket edition of the “Epigrams.” The poet
prepared the advertisements for the booksellers,
putting these in the form of epigrams, but not
neglecting to specify the form and price of each
book, as well as the place where it was offered
for sale.* Horace refers to the brothers Sosius as
* Omnis in hoc gracili xeniorum turba libello
Constabit nummis quatuor empta tibi.
Quatuor est mimium, poterit constare duobus.
Bt faciet lucrum bibliopola Tryphon.
(Epigrammata, lib. xiii., ep. 3.)
Qui tecum cupis esse meos ubicunque libellos.
Et comites longae quaeris habere viae, .
tios eme quos arcet brevibus membrana tabellis:
Scrinia da magnis, me manus una capit.
# * : ; ; # 3:
Libertum docti Lucensis quare Secundi
Limina post Pacis, Palladiumque Forum.
(Epigrammata, lib. i., ep. 3.)
A.
PROPERTY,
his publishers, but complains that while his works
brought gold to them, for their author they earned
only fame in distant lands and with posterity.*
Terence sold his “Eunuchus” to the AEdiles, and
his “Hecyra.” to the player Roscius; while Juve-
nal reports that Statius would have starved if
he had not succeeded in selling to the actor
Paris his tragedy of Agave. “Such sales,” says
Coppinger, “were considered as founded upon
natural justice. No man could possibly have a
right to make a profit by the sale of the works of
another without the author's consent. It would
be converting to his own emolument the fruits of
another's labor.” — It is apparent from these and
from similar references, that under the Roman
empire authors were in the habit of transferring
to booksellers for such consideration as they could
obtain, the right to duplicate and to sell their
works, and that, under the trade usages, they
were protected in so doing. There was no im-
perial act covering such transfers, and it does not
appear that in any division of the Roman law
was there provision for the exclusive right in the
“ copy” of literary material. — It is nevertheless
the case that the Roman jurists interested them-
selves in the question of immaterial property, but
it was apparently rather as a theoretical specula-
tion than as a study in practical law. Some of
the earlier discussions as to the nature of property
in ideas appear to have turned upon the question
as to whether such property should take prece-
dence over that in the material which happened
to be made use of for the expression of the ideas.
The disciples of Proculus maintained that the
Occupation of alien material so as to make of it
a new thing, gave a property right to him who
had so reworked or reshaped it; while the school
of Sabinus insisted that the ownership in the
material must carry with it the title to what-
ever was produced upon the material. Justinian,
following the opinion of Gaius, took a middle
ground, pointing out that the decision must be
influenced by the possibility of restoring the ma-
terial to its original form, and more particularly
by the question as to whether the material, or
that which had been produced upon it, was the
more essential. This opinion of Gaius appears
to have had reference to the ownership of a
Certain table upon which a picture had been
painted, and the decision was in favor of the art-
ist. This decision contains an unmistakable rec-
ognition of immaterial property, not, to be sure,
in the sense of a right to exclusive reproduction,
but in the particular application, that, while ma-
terial property depends upon the substance, im-
material property, that is to say, property in ideas,
depends upon the form. — For the centuries fol-
lowing the destruction of the Roman empire,
during which literary undertakings were confined
almost entirely to the monasteries, the Roman
usage, under which authors could dispose of their
* Hic meret aera liber Sosiis, hic et mare transit,
Et longum noto Scriptori prorogat alvum.
- (Art. Poet., 345.)
work “ Phoenix.”
397
works to booksellers, and the latter could be se-
cured control of the property purchases, was en-
tirely forgotten. No limitation was placed on the
duplication of works of literature. According to
Wächter (Das Verlagsrecht, 1857), it was even the
case that by a statute of the university of Paris,
issued in 1223, the Parisian booksellers (who were
in large part dependent upon the university) were
enjoined to extend, as far as practicable, the dupli-
cation of works of a certain class. The business
of bookseller at that time consisted as much in
the renting out for reading and copying of authen-
tic manuscript versions as in the sale of manu-
script copies. In the university of Paris, as well
as in that of Bologna, a statute specified the least
number of copies, usually 120, of a manuscript
that a bookseller must keep in stock, and the
prices for loaning manuscripts were also fixed by
statute. The difficulty and expense attending the
reproduction of manuscripts was in every case
considerable (much greater than in the early days
of the Roman empire), and when, therefore, an
author desired to secure a wide circulation for his
work, he came to regard the reproduction of
copies, not as a reserved right and source of in-
come, but as a service to himself, which he was
very ready to facilitate and even to compensate.
—Throughout the middle ages, whatever imma-
terial property in the realms of Science, art or
technics, obtained recognition and protection, was
held in ownership, not by individuals, but by
churches, monasteries or universities. Before the
invention of printing, the writers of the middle
ages were fortunate if, without a ruinous expend-
iture, they could succeed in getting their pro-
ductions before the public. The printing press
brought with it the possibility of a compensation
for literary labor. Very speedily, however, the
unrestricted rivalry of printers brought into exist-
ence competing and unauthorized editions, which
diminished the prospects of profit, or entailed
loss for the authors, editors and printers of the
original issue, and thus discouraged further simi-
lar undertakings. – As there was no general en-
actment under which the difficulty could be met,
protection for the authors and their representa-
tives was sought through special “privileges,”
obtained for separate works as issued. The earli-
est privilege of the kind was, according to Putter
(Beiträge zum deutschen Staats-und Fürstenrecht),
that conceded by the republic of Venice, Jan. 3,
1491, to the jurist Peter of Ravenna, securing to
him and to the publishers selected by him, the
exclusive right for the printing and sale of his
No term of years appears to
have been named in this “privilege.” It appears,
however, that most of the early Italian enact-
ments in regard to literature were framed, not so
much with reference to the protection of authors,
as for the purpose of inducing printers (acting
also as publishers) to undertake certain literary
enterprises which were believed to be of impor.
tance to the community. — The republic of Ven-
ice, the dukes of Florence, and Leo X. and other
398
PROPERTY.
popes, conceded at different times to certain print-
ers the exclusive privilege of printing, for speci-
fied terms, rarely apparently exceeding fourteen
years, editions of certain classic authors. At this
time, when the business of the production and
the distribution of books was in its infancy, such
undertakings must have been attended with ex-
ceptional risk, and have called for no little en-
Jightened enterprise on the part of the printers.
It is fair to assume that the princes conceding
these privileges were not interested in securing
profits for the printers, but had in mind simply
the encouragement, for the benefit of the commu-
nity, of literary ventures on the part of the editors
and printers. — After Italy, it is in France that
we find the next formal recognition, on the part
of the government, of the rights of property in
literature. From the reign of Louis XII. to the
beginning of the sixteenth century, it became
usage for the publisher (at that time identical with
the printer), before undertaking the publication
of a work, to obtain from the king an authoriza-
tion, or letters patent, the term of which appears
to have varied according to the nature of the
Work and the mood of the monarch or of the ad-
vising ministers. At the close of nearly all of
the volumes issued previous to the revolution,
will be found printed: Les Lettres du Roi, ad-
dressed, A nos amés et feawa, conseillers, les gens
tenoms mos cours de Parlement * * et autres mos
justiciers, et quº font défenses dº tous libra?res et
Żmprimeurs et autres personnes de quelque qualité
et condition qu’elles Solent, d'introduire aucun im-
pression étrangere (that is to say, any unauthorized
reprint) dams awcum lieu de notre obeissance. —
These letters were in the first place obtained, as
in Italy, for the protection of special editions of
the classics, but very speedily the native litera-
ture indreased in importance, and the list of orig-
inal works came to outnumber that of the re-
prints of ancient authors. The rights specified
in the letters were in the first place nearly always
vested in the printers, but it is evident, that, the
longer the terms of the royal concessions, the
larger the remuneration that could be looked for
from the work, and the greater the price that the
printer would be in a position to pay to author
or writer. It is also to be noted that the terms
granted to original French works were usually
longer than those for the new editions of the
classics or of reprints of devotional works.—Ac-
cording to Lowndes, the penalties for infringing
copyright were, until the revolution, heavier in
France than anywhere else in Europe. It was
argued that such infringement constituted a worse
crime than the stealing of goods from the house
of a neighbor, for in the latter case some negli-
gence might possibly be imputed to the owner,
while in the former it was stealing what had been
confided to the public honor. — The status of lit-
erary property was further recognized and defined
by the so-called Ordinances de Moulines of Henry
II., in 1556, the declaration of Charles IX., in
1571, and the letters patent of Henry III., in
1576, but the character of the methods of grant-
ing and defending copyrights was not changed in
any material respects. – By the decree of the
national assembly of Aug. 4, 1789, all the privi-
leges afforded to authors and owners of literary
property by the various royal edicts were re-
pealed. In July, 1793, the first general copyright
act was passed, under which, protection was con-
ceded to the author for his life, and to his heirs
and assigns for ten years thereafter. — The im-
perial act of 1810 extended the term to twenty
years after the author's death, for widow or chil-
dren, the term remaining at ten years if the heirs
were further removed. In 1872 the act now (1883)
in force was passed. Under this the term was ex-
tended to fifty years from the death of the author.
The provisions of the act were also extended to
the colonies. Foreigners and Frenchmen enjoy
the right equally, and no restriction is made as
to the authors being residents at the time the
copyright is taken out. It is, further, not neces-
sary that the first publication of the work should
be made in France. In case the work be first
published abroad, French copyright may subse-
quently be secured by depositing two copies at
the ministry of the interior in Paris, or with the
secretary of the prefecture in the departments.
The provisions of the statute affecting foreigners
may be modified by any convention concluded
between France and a foreign country.—The ear-
liest German enactment in regard to literary prop-
erty was the “privilege” accorded in Nuremberg,
in 1501, to the poet Conrad Celtes, for the works
of the poet Hroswista (Helena von Rossow, a
nun of the Benedictine cloister of Gardersheim).
As this author had been dead for 600 years, the
privilege was evidently not issued for her pro-
tection, but must rather have been based upon the
idea of encouraging Celtes in a praiseworthy (and
probably unremunerative) undertaking. Between
the years 1510 and 1514 we find record of “priv-
ileges” issued by the emperor Maximilian in favor
of the sermons of Geiler of Kaisersberg, and the
writings of Schottius, Stabius and others. In
1534 Luther's translation of the Bible was issued
in Wittenberg under the protection of the “priv-
ilege” of the elector of Saxony. — Penalties for
piratical reprints were sometimes specified in the
special “privileges,” but from 1660 we find cer-
tain general acts under which privileged works
could obtain protection, and their owners could
secure against reprinters uniform penalties. De-
crees of this class were issued by the city of Frank-
fort in 1657, 1660 and 1775, by Nuremberg in
1623, by the electorate of Saxony in 1661, and by
the imperial government in 1646. There were also
enactments in Hanover in 1778, and in Austria in
1795. All of the above specified acts expressly per-
mitted the reprinting of “foreign º’ works, that is,
of works issued outside of the domain covered by
the enactment. Piratical reprinting between the
different German states increased, therefore, with
the growth of the literature, and although the in-
jury and injustice caused by it were recognized,
PROPERTY.
399
and measures for its suppression were promised
by the emperors Leopold II. and Francis II. (1790
and 1792), nothing in this direction could be accom-
plished by the unwieldy imperial machinery. —In
1794 legislation was inaugurated in the Prussian
parliament, which was accepted by the other states
of Germany (excepting Wurtemberg and Mecklen-
burg), under which all German authors and for-
eign authors whose works were represented by
publishers taking part in the book fairs in Frank-
fort and Leipzig, were protected throughout the
states of Germany against unauthorized reprints.
— According to Klostermann these enactments
were only in small part effective, and it was not
until forty years later, that, under the later acts of
the new German confederacy, German authors
were able to secure throughout Germany a satis-
factory protection. It is, nevertheless, the case
that to those who framed the Berlin enactment of
1794 must be given the credit of the first steps
toward the practical recognition of international
copyright. — The copyright statute now in force
in Germany, including Elsass and Lothringen,
dates from 1871. The term is for the life of the
author and for thirty years thereafter. The copy-
right registry for the empire is kept at Leipzig.
The protection of the law is afforded to the works
of citizens, whether published inside or outside
of the empire, and also to works of aliens, if these
are published by a firm doing business within
the empire. — In Italy literary copyright rests
upon the statute of 1865. The term is for the life
of the author and for forty years aſter his death,
or for eighty years from the publication of the
work. After the expiration of the first forty
years, however, or after the death of the author, in
case this does not take place until more than forty
years have elapsed since the publication, the work
is open to publication by any one who will pay to
the author of the copyright a royalty of 5 per cent.
of the published price. It is necessary to deposit
two copies of the work, together with a declara-
tion in duplicate, at the prefecture of the province.
No distinction is made between citizens and aliens,
and the provisions of the law are applicable to the
authors of works first published in any foreign
country, between which and Italy there is no copy-
right treaty.—In Austria the term of literary copy-
right is for thirty years after the author's death, and
the other provisions of the act in force are similar
to those of the German statute. — In Holland and
Belgium, copyright, formerly perpetual, is now
limited to the life of the author and twenty years
thereafter. — In Denmark, copyright, formerly
perpetual, is now limited to thirty years from the
date of publication. — In Sweden, copyright was
also, until recently, perpetual. By the act of 1877,
however, it now endures for the life of the author,
and for fifty years thereafter. The provisions of
the law are made applicable to the works of for-
eign authors only on condition of reciprocity. —
In Spain, copyright rests on the act of 1878, and
endures during the life of the author and for
eighty years thereafter. If the right be assigned
by the author, and the author leave no heirs, it
belongs to the assignees for eighty years from the
author’s death. In the case, however, of heirs
being left by the author, the assignment holds
good for but twenty-five years, after which the
ownership reverts to the heirs for the remaining
fifty-five years of the term. Owners of foreign
works will retain their rights in Spain, provided
they adhere to the law of their own country. The
copyright registry is kept at the ministry of the
interior, and to perfect the registry a deposit of
three copies of the work is required. The Spanish
government is authorized to conclude copyright
treaties with foreign countries on the condition
of complete reciprocity between the contracting
parties. Under such an arrangement any author,
or his representative who has legally secured copy-
right in the one country, would be, without fur-
ther formalities, entitled to enjoy it in the other.—
In Russia, copyright endures for the life of the au-
thor, and for fifty years thereafter.—In Greece the
term is fifteen years from publication. —In Japan
the law of copyright dates from 1874. Manuscript
must be examined by the department of the in-
terior, and if found free from disloyal opinions
or any matter calculated to injure public morals,
a certificate of protection is promptly issued.
Three copies of the work must be deposited in the
department, and the fees amount to the value of
six more copies. – In China, notwithstanding the
large body of national literature, no laws have
been enacted for the protection of literary prop-
erty. —In Great Britain the act of 1842, now
(1883) in force, provides as follows: Copyright in
a book endures for forty-two years from the date
of publication, or for the author's life, and for
seven years after, whichever of these two terms
may be the longer. The first publication of the
work must be in Great Britain. The copy can be
taken out by any author or owner who is a British
citizen, or by an alien who may at the time of the
first publication be within the British dominions
(in any portion of the British empire). The work
must be registered in the records of the stationers’
company, and five copies must be delivered to
certain institutions specified. A bill is now, how-
ever, before parliament, framed mainly upon the
recommendations of the copyright commission of
1878, which provides that the term of copyright
for books shall be fifty years; that in the case of
British subjects copyright extends to all the British
dominions; that aliens, wherever resident, shall be
entitled to British copyright on registering their
work in that part of the British dominions where
it was first published. — The history of the status
of literary property in England prior to 1863, is
given in detail in the article of Mr. Macleod (vol.
i., p. 642). It is in England that the nature and
basis of copyright have received the most thor-
ough consideration, and the English opinions (al-
though representing very wide differences among
themselves) have been the most important con-
tributions to the discussion of the subject. It is
sufficient to note here that the first record of the
400
PROPERTY.
recognition of property in literature appears in
1558 (that is, half a century later than in France
or Germany) when the earliest entry of titles was
made on the register of the company of stationers in
London. As early as 1534, however, Henry VIII.
granted to the university of Cambridge the exclu-
sive right of printing certain books in which the
Crown claimed a prerogative. Afterward, patents
cum privilegio were granted to individuals. Prior
to 1710 there was no legislation creating literary
property or confining ownership, nor any abridg-
ing its perpetuity or restricting its enjoyment. It
was understood, therefore, to owe its existence to
common law, and this conclusion, arrived at by
the weightiest authorities, remained practically
unquestioned until 1774. For the provisions of
the act of 1710 (8 Anne), the details of the cases
of Miller vs. Taylor (1769), and Donaldson vs.
'Becket (1774), the discussions concerning these
cases, with the opinions of Lord Mansfield, Lord
Camden and Justice Yates, and also for the debate
attending the framing of the act of 1842, with the
arguments of Talfourd, Lord Campbell, Justice
Coleridge, Lord Macaulay and Thomas Hood,
the reader is referred to Mr. Macleod’s paper.
—In the United States the first act in regard
to copyright was passed in Connecticut in Jan-
uary, 1783. This was followed by the Massa-
chusetts act of March, 1783, that of Virginia in
1785, and New York and New Jersey in 1786.
These acts were due more particularly to the ef-
forts of Noah Webster, and their first service was
the protection of his famous “Speller.” Webster
journeyed from state capital to state capital, to
urge upon governors and legislatures the imme-
diate necessity of copyright laws, and under his
persistency measures had also been promised and
in part framed in Rhode Island, Pennsylvania,
Delaware, Maryland and South Carolina. The
necessity for state laws on the subject was, how-
ever, obviated by the United States statute of
1790. In creating a public and legislative opinion
which made such a law possible, Webster's writ-
ings and personal influence were all important. —
Previous to the adoption of the federal constitu-
tion, in 1787, a general copyright law was not
within the province of the central government,
and in Order to encourage the states in the fram-
ing of copyright legislation, a resolution, pro-
posed by Madison, was adopted in congress, in
May, 1783, recommending to the states the adop-
tion of laws securing copyright for a term of not
less than fourteen years. The state acts passed
prior to this resolution had conceded a term of
twenty-one years.
the shorter time suggested by Madison. The act
of 1831 extended the fourteen years to twenty-
eight, with privilege to the author, his widow or
children, of renewal for fourteen years more.
The act of 1834 provided that all deeds for the
transfer or assignment of copyright should be
recorded in the office in which the original entry
had been made. In 1846 the act establishing the
Smithsonian institution required that one copy of
Statute.
The act of 1790 provided for
the work copyrighted should be delivered to that
institution, and one copy to the library of congress.
This provision was repealed in 1859, by a statute
which transferred to the department of the inte-
rior the custody of the publications and records.
In 1865 the copies were again ordered to be de-
livered to the library of congress. In 1861 an act
was passed, providing that cases of copyright
could, without regard to the amount involved, be
appealed to the Supreme court. — The act now in
force in the United States, is that of July, 1870,
(see Rev. Stat., secs. 4948–4971). This provides
that the business of copyrights shall be under
charge of the librarian of congress; that copy-
rights may be secured by any citizen of the United
States or resident therein; that the term of copy-
right shall be twenty-eight years, with the privi-
lege of renewal for the further term of fourteen
years, by the author if he be still living and con-
tinues to be a citizen or a resident, or by his widow
or children if he be dead; that two copies of the
work shall be deposited in the library of congress;
that the work must first be published in the United
States, and that the original jurisdiction of all
suits under the copyright laws shall rest with the
Jnited States circuit courts. – Under the present
interpretation of the courts in both the United
States and Europe, copyright in published works
exists only by virtue of the statutes defining (or
establishing) it, while in works that have not been
published, such as compositions prepared exclu-
sively for dramatic representation, the copyright
obtains through the common law. Copyright by
statute is of necessity limited to the term of years
specified in the enactment, while copyright at
common law has been held to be perpetual. The
leading English decisions have before been referred
to. The United States decision, which still serves
as a precedent on the point of the statutory limita-
tion of copyright, is that of the United States
supreme court in 1834, in the case of Wheaton vs.
Peters. This decision involved the purport of the
. United States law of 1790, and the determination
of the same question that had been decided by the
house of lords in 1774, viz., whether copyrightin
a published work existed by the common law,
and, if so, whether it had been taken away by
The court held that the law had been
settled in England, the act of 8 Anne having taken .
away any right previously existing at common
law; that there was no common law of the United
States; and that the copyright statute of 1790 did
not affirm a right already in existence, but created
one. Justices Thompson and Baldwin, in oppos-
ing the decision of the four justices concurring in
the decision, took the ground that the common
law of England did prevail in the United States,
and that copyright at common law had been fully
recognized, and that, even if it were admitted that
such copyright had been abrogated in England by
the statute of Anne, such statute had of course
no effect either in the colonies or in the United
States. “These considerations,” says Drone,
‘‘ deprive Wheaton vs. Peters of much of its
PROPERTY.
401
weight as an authority.” In 1880, in the case of
Putnam vs. Pollard, it was claimed by the plaint-
iff that the decision in Wheaton vs. Peters could
in any case only make a precedent for Pennsyl-
vania; that the English common law obtained in
the state of New York, and could not have been
affected by the statute of Anne ; but the New
York supreme court decided that Wheaton vs.
Peters constituted a valid precedent. — What may
be the Subject of Copyright. In order to acquire a
copyright in a work, it is necessary that it should
be original. The originality can, however, con-
sist in the form or arrangement as well as in the
Substance. Corrections and additions to an old
work, not the property of the compiler, can also
Secure copyright. The copyright of private let-
ters forming literary compositions, is in the com-
poser and not in the receiver. (Oliver vs. Oliver,
Percival vs. Phipps et al., Story’s Com.) — The
English statute, 5 and 6 Wict., defines “book”
“to mean and include every volume, part or di-
vision of a volume, pamphlet, sheet of letter-
press, sheet of music, map, chart or plan sepa-
rately published.” The right of property in
lectures, whether written or oral, is now confirmed
by statute, the most important English decision on
the point being that of Abernethy vs. Hutchinson,
and American precedents being Bartlett vs. Crit-
tenden, Keene vs. Kimball, and Putnam vs. Meyer.
Copyright can be secured for original arrange-
ments of common material, or novel presentations
of familiar facts. In Putnam vs. Meyer the New
York supreme court held that certain tabular lists
of anatomical names, arranged in a peculiar and
arbitrary manner for the purpose of facilitating
the work of memorizing, were entitled to protec-
tion. — Abridgments and abstracts, which can be
called genuine and just, are also entitled to copy-
right. (Lawrence vs. Dana, Gray vs. Russell et
al.) According to English precedent, copyright
can not exist in a work of libelous, immoral, ob-
Scene or irreligious tendency. There is no record
in the United States of a case in which the ques-
tion of copyright in irreligious books has been
considered. Drone points out that the uniform
construction of the law relating to blasphemy is
evidence of the large freedom of inquiry and dis-
cussion allowed in religious matters. On this
point the opinion of Justice Cooley (People vs.
Ruggles, 8 Johns. Rep., N. Y.) is worth citing.
“It does not follow because blasphemy is punish-
able as a crime, that therefore one is not at liberty
to dispute and argue against the truth of the
Christian religion, or of any accepted dogma. Its
‘divine origin and truth’ are not so far admitted
in the law as to preclude their being controverted.
To forbid discussions on this subject, except by
the various sects of believers, would be to abridge
the liberty of speech and of the press on a point
which, with many, would be regarded as the most
important of all.” In quoting a similar opinion
of Justice Story, Drone concludes that “there
appears to be no good reason why valid copyright
will not rest in a publication in which are denied
145 VOL. III. — 26
any or all of the doctrines of the Bible; provided
the motives and manner of the author be such as
not to warrant the finding of a case of blasphemy
or immorality.” – Several of the questions con-
cerning the status and the defense of literary
property in this country are only now beginning
to COme into discussion. The literature of the
Country is still so young that as yet but a small
portion of it has survived the statute term of
Copyright. From the present time, however, as
the terms of works which have established a posi-
tion as classics, begin in part or in whole to expire,
we can look forward to a larger number of issues
and of suits connected with alleged infringements
of copyright. — The case of Putnam vs. Pollard,
decided in the New York supreme court in 1881,
Covered some points that appear to have not be-
fore received consideration. The defendants had
reprinted Some fragmentary and unrevised por-
tions of the works of Washington Irving, on
which the copyright had expired, and offered
these for sale under the designation of “Irving's
Works.” The plaintiff had for a number of
years used this title to describe the authorized,
complete and revised writings of this author
in the shape in which he had finally prepared
them for posterity. The plaintiff sought to enjoin
the sale, under the above title, of the fragmentary
work, on the several grounds that it misled the
public, caused injury to the literary reputation of
Irving, and interfered with the property rights of
Irving's heirs. The courts decided, however, that
as long as the volumes in question contained noth-
ing but material which had actually been written
by Irving, it was not unlawful to designate them
as “Irving's Works,” even though the writings
should not be in complete or in their final form;
and the injunction was denied. The question in-
volved was, it will be noted, one of trade-mark,
and the decision took the ground that an author's
name, combined with the term “works,” does
not constitute a trade-mark. Under this ruling, it
might be proper to add to the title pages of vol-
umes of “fragments’ sold as “works,” the cau-
tion “Caveat emptor.”— The four theories which
have resulted from this discussion of a century,
are thus summarized by Drone: 1. That intellect-
ual productions constitute a species of property
founded in natural law, recognized by the com-
mon law, and neither lost by publication nor taken
away by legislation; 2. That an author has, by
common law, an exclusive right to control his
works before, and not after, publication; 3. That
this right is not lost by publication, but has been
destroyed by statute; 4. That copyright is a mo-
nopoly of limited duration, created and wholly
regulated by the legislature, and that an author
has, therefore, no other title to his published works
than that given by statute. — The first country to
take action in regard to international copyright
was Prussia, which, in 1836, passed an act con-
ceding the protection of the Prussian statute to
the-writers of every country which should grant
reciprocity. In 1837 a copyright convention was
402
PROPERTY.
concluded between the different members of the
German confederation. — This was followed by
the English act of 1838, 1 and 2 Vict., c. 59,
amended and extended by 15 Wict., c. 12. This
act provided that her majesty might, by order in
council, grant the privilege of copyright to au-
thors of books, etc., first published in any foreign
country to be named in such order, provided al-
ways that “due protection had been secured by
the foreign power so named in such order in coun-
cil, for the benefit of parties interested in works
first published in the British dominions.”— Dif-
ferent provisions may be made in the arrange-
ments with different countries. Under the gen-
eral copyright act, no right of property is recog-
nized in any book, etc., not first published in her
majesty’s dominions. Hence, British as well as
foreign authors first publishing abroad, have no
protection in Great Britain unless a convention
has been framed, under the international copy-
right act, between Great Britain and the coun-
try in which the publication is made. It may be
noted here, that the condition of “first publica-
tion” which obtains in the statutes of nearly all
countries, has been held to be complied with by
a simultaneous publication in two or more coun-
tries. – Under this international copyright act,
Great Britain has entered into copyright conven-
tions with the following countries: with Saxony,
in 1846; France, in 1851; Prussia, in 1855; states
of Germany comprised in the German empire:
Anhalt, in 1853; Brunswick, in 1849; Hamburg,
in 1853; Hanover, in 1847; Oldenburg, in 1847;
Hesse-Darmstadt, in 1862; Thuringian Union, in
1847. (It is not clear what effect the absorption
of these states into the empire may have had upon
their several copyright treaties.) With Spain, in
1857 (temporarily renewed in 1880); Belgium, in
1855; and Sardinia, in 1862 (confirmed in 1867 by
the kingdom of Italy). — The conventions with
the several German states contain essentially iden-
tical provisions, which are as follows: “The au-
thor of any book to whom the laws of either state
(English or German) give copyright, shall be en-
titled to exercise that right in the other of such
states, for the same term to which an author of a
similar work would be entitled if it were first
published, in such other state. The authors of
each state shall enjoy in the other the same pro-
tection against piracy and unauthorized republi-
cation, and shall have the same remedies before
courts of justice, as the law affords to the domes-
tic authors. Translators are protected against a
piracy of their translation, but acquire no exclu-
sive right to translate a work except in the fol-
lowing case: The author who notifies on the title
page of his book his intention of reserving the
right of translation, will, during five years from
the first publication of the book, be entitled to
protection, in the treaty state, from the publica-
tion of any translation not authorized by him.
In order, however, to secure this protection, the
author must, within three months of the first pub-
lication of his book, register the title and deposit
a copy in the proper office in the treaty state; part
of the authorized translation must appear within
a year, and the whole of it within three years of
the deposit and registration of the original; and
the translation must itself be duly registered and
deposited. When a work is issued in parts, each
part shall be treated as a separate book; but notice
of the reservation of the right of translation need
be printed only on the first page. The importa-
tion into either of the two states of unauthorized
copies of works protected by the convention, is
forbidden. A certified copy of the entry in the
registry of either state shall prima facie confer an
exclusive right of republication within such state.
— The provisions of the existing conventions be-
tween England and France, Spain, Belgium and
Italy, are essentially identical with those of the
German treaty. The continental book, on the
title page of which has been duly printed the an-
nouncement of the reservation of the right of
translation, must be duly registered at stationers'
hall, London. The English work must be regis-
tered for France at the bureau de la librairie of
the ministry of the interior, in Paris, and for
Spain and Belgium at the corresponding offices
in Madrid and Brussels. – The provisions of the
treaty between Spain and France, which is based
upon the Spanish copyright act of 1878, have,
in the main, been followed in the conventions be-
tween Spain and Italy, Spain and Portugal, France
and Italy, etc. They are as follows: 1. Complete
reciprocity between the contracting parties; 2.
Treatment of each nation by the other as the most
favored nation; 3. Any author or his representa-
tive who has legally secured copyright in the one
country, to enjoy it forthwith in the other, with-
out further formalities; 4. The prohibition in each
country of the printing, selling, importation or
exportation of works in the language of the other
country, without the consent of the owners of the
copyright therein.—The copyright treaty between
France and Germany, as framed in 1883, is a step
in advance in many ways., By article ten, authors
of the two countries are spared all formalities
of registration, and the appearance of the writer's
name on the title page is to be considered suffi-
cient proof of his rights, unless the contrary is
proved. In the case of anonymous or pseudony-
mous works the publisher will be regarded as the
author's representative. The knotty point of the
right of translation has been solved by a compro-
mise. The necessity to print a reserve of the
right of translation on the book is abolished, as is
the registration of translations. The author is to
retain his right of translation for ten years, instead
of the five hitherto allowed. When a work is is-
sued in parts, the ten years are to be counted from
the issue of the last part. Books and acting plays
are put on the same footing; and the treaty will
apply to works already published. — An interna-
tional literary association was organized some
years ago, with Victor Hugo as its first president,
and has been of service in calling attention to de-
fects in existing enactments and conventions for
PROPERTY.
403
the protection of property in literature. It has
recently called special attention to the exceptional
position occupied by the United States toward the
literature of other countries. – Between no two
countries has the exchange of literary productions
been so considerable or so important as between
Great Britain and the United States. The interests
of authors, of readers, of publishers, of nation-
al literature and of national morality, have alike
demanded that the exchange should be placed un-
der international regulation, and that this exten-
sive use by the public of each country of the lit-
erature of the other should be conditioned upon
an adequate acknowledgment of the rights of the
producers of such literature. — It is a disgrace
that the two great English-speaking people, claim-
ing to stand among the most enlightened of the
community of nations, should be practically the
only members of such community which have
failed to arrive at an agreement in this all-impor-
tant international issue; and it is mortifying for
an American to be obliged to admit that the re-
sponsibility for such failure must, in the main,
rest with the United States. – The reproduction
of British literature in this country has, during
the past century, been much more considerable
than that of American literature in Great Britain,
and the direct loss to the English authors, through
the want of an assured and legalized remunera-
tion from the American editions of their works,
has therefore been greater than the correspond-
ing direct loss to American authors. For this
and for other reasons, the suggestions and propo-
sitions for an international arrangement have been
more frequent and more pressing on the part of
England. And although it is certainly true, that
from an early date the rightfulness and desira-
bility of an international copyright have been
maintained in this country, not only by authors,
but by leading publishers and many others who
have given thought and labor to the matter, it
is nevertheless the case that the views of these
advocates of a measure have not as yet been
successful in securing the legislation required to
change the national policy. This policy still per-
sistently refuses to recognize the rights of any
alien writers, and, through such refusal, continues
to inflict a grievous and indefensible wrong, not
only upon such alien writers, but also upon the
authors and the literature of our own country. —
The history of the efforts made in this country to
secure international copyright is not a long one.
The attempts have been few, and have been lack-
ing in organization and in unanimity of opinion,
and they have for the most part been made with
but little apparent expectation of any immediate
success. Those interested seem to have nearly al-
ways felt that popular opinion was, on the whole,
against them, and that progress could be hoped
for only through the slow process of building up
by education and discussion a more enlightened
public understanding. —In 1838, after the passing
of the first international copyright act in Great
Britain, Lord Palmerston invited the American
government to co-operate in establishing a copy-
right convention between the two countries. In
the year previous, Henry Clay, as chairman of
the joint library committee, had reported to the
senate very strongly in favor of such a convention,
taking the ground that the author's right of prop-
erty in his work is similar to that of the inventor
in his patent. This is a logical position for a pro-
tectionist, interested in the rights of labor, to have
taken, and the advocates of the so-called protective
system, who call themselves the followers of
Henry Clay, but who are to-day opposed to any
full recognition of authors’ rights, would do well
to bear in mind this opinion of their ablest leader.
— No action was taken in regard to Mr. Clay’s
report or Lord Palmerston's proposal. In 1840
Mr. G. P. Putnam issued in pamphlet form “An
Argument in behalf of International Copyright,”
the first publication on this subject in the United
States of which we find record. It was prepared
by himself and Dr. Francis Lieber. In 1843 Mr.
Putnam obtained the signatures of ninety-seven
publishers, printers and binders to a petition he
had prepared, which was duly presented to con-
gress. It took the broad ground that the absence
of an international copyright was “alike injurious
to the business of publishing and to the best in-
terests of the people at large.” A memorial, orig-
inating in Philadelphia, was presented the same
year, in opposition to this petition, setting forth,
among other considerations, that an international
copyright would prevent the adaptation of Eng-
lish books to American wants. – In the report
made by Mr. Baldwin to congress twenty-five
years later, he remarks that “the mutilation and
reconstruction of American books to suit English
wants are common to a shameless extent.” — In
1853 the question of a copyright convention with
Great Britain was again under discussion, the
measure being favored by Mr. Everett, at that
time secretary of state. A treaty was negotiated
by him, in conjunction with Mr. John F. Cramp-
ton, minister in London, which provided simply
that all authors, artists, composers, etc., who
were entitled to copyright in one country, should
be entitled to it in the other on the same terms and
for the same length of time. The treaty was re-
ported favorably from the convention on foreign
relations, but was laid upon the table in the com-
mittee of the whole. While this measure was
under discussion, five of the leading publishing
houses in New York addressed a letter to Mr.
Everett, in which, while favoring a convention,
they advised: 1st, that the foreign author must be
required to register the title of his work in the
United States before its publication abroad; 2d,
that the work, to secure protection, must be issued
in the United States within thirty days of its pub-
lication abroad; and 3d, that the reprint must be
wholly manufactured in the United States. – In
1853 Henry C. Carey published his “Letters on
international copyright,” in which he took the
ground that the facts and ideas in a literary pro-
duction are the common property of Society, and
404
PROPERTY.
that property in copyright is indefensible. — In
1858 a bill was introduced into the house of repre-
sentatives by Mr. Morris, of Pennsylvania, pro-
viding for international copyright on the basis of
an entire remanufacture of the foreign work, and
its reissue by an American publisher within thirty
days of its publication abroad. This bill does not
appear to have received any consideration. — In
March, 1868, a circular letter, headed “Justice to
Authors and Artists,” was issued by a committee
composed of George P. Putnam, S. Irenaeus Prime,
Henry Ivison, James Parton and Egbert Hazard,
calling together a meeting for the consideration of
the subject of international copyright. The meet-
ing was held on the 9th of April, Mr. Bryant pre-
siding, and a society was organized under the
title of the “Copyright Association for the Pro-
tection and Advancement of Literature and Art,”
of which Mr. Bryant was made president, and E.
C. Stedman secretary. The primary object of the
association was stated to be “to promote the en-
actment of a just and suitable international copy-
right law for the benefit of authors and artists in
all parts of the world.” A memorial had been
prepared by the above-mentioned committee to be
presented to congress, which requested congress
to give its early attention to the passage of a bill,
“to secure in all parts of the world the right of
authors,” but which made no recommendations as
to the details of any measure. Of the 153 signa-
tures attached to this memorial, 101 were those of
authors and 19 of publishers. — In the fall of 1868
Mr. J. D. Baldwin, member of the house from
Massachusetts, reported a bill, the provisions of
which had in the main received the approval of
the copyright association, which provided that a
foreign work could secure a copyright in this
country, provided it was wholly manufactured
here and should be issued for sale by a publisher
who was an American citizen. The bill was re-
committed to the joint committee on the library,
and no action was taken upon it. Mr. Baldwin
was of Opinion that an important cause for the
shelving of the measure without debate was the
impeachment of President Johnson, which was
at that time absorbing the attention of congress
and the country. No general expression of opin-
ion was, therefore, elicited upon the question
from either congress or the public, and even up
to this date (June, 1883), the question has never
reached such a stage as to enable an expression of
public opinion to be fairly arrived at. In 1871
Mr. Cox, of New York, introduced a bill which
was practically identical with Mr. Baldwin’s meas-
ure, and which was also recommitted to the
library committee. — In 1870 a copyright conven-
tion was proposed by Lord Clarendon, which
called forth some discussion, but concerning which
no action was taken on the part of the American
government until 1872. — In 1872 the new library
Committee called upon the authors, publishers and
others interested to assist in framing a bill. At a
meeting of the publishers held in New York, a
majority of the firms present were in favor of the
provision of Mr. Cox's bill. The report was,
however, dissented from by a large minority, on
the ground that the bill was drawn in the inter-
ests of the publishers rather than that of the public;
that the prohibition of the use of foreign stereo-
types and electrotypes of illustrations was an
economic absurdity, and that an English publish-
ing house could in any case, through an American
partner, retain control of the American market.
During the same week a bill was drafted by C.
A. Bristed, representing more particularly the
views of the authors in the copyright association,
which provided simply that all rights secured to
citizens of the United States by existing copyright
laws be hereby secured to the citizens and sub-
jects of every country the government of which
secures reciprocal rights to the citizens of the
United States. A few weeks later, at a meeting
of publishers and others held in Philadelphia, res-
olutions were adopted (which will be referred to
later) opposing any measure of international copy-
right. — These four reports were submitted to the
library committee, together with one or two in-
dividual suggestions, of which the most note-
worthy were those of Harper & Bros., and of Mr.
J. P. Morton, a bookseller of Louisville. Messrs.
Harper, in a letter presented by their counsel,
took the broad ground that “any measure of in-
ternational copyright was objectionable because
it would add to the price of books, and thus inter-
fere with the education of the people.” It is to
be remarked, in regard to this consideration, that
it is equally forcible against any copyright what-
ever. As Thomas Hood says: “ Cheap bread is
as desirable and necessary as cheap books, but
one does not on that ground appropriate the
farmer's wheat stack.” Mr. Morton was in favor
of an arrangement that should give to any dealer
the privilege of reprinting a foreign work pro-
vided he would contract to pay to the author or
his representative 10 per cent. of the wholesale
price. This suggestion was afterward incorpo-
rated in what was known as the Sherman bill.
In view of the wide diversity of the plans and
suggestions presented to this committee, there was
certainly some ground for the statement made in
his report by the chairman, Senator Lot M. Mor-
rill, that “there was no unanimity of Opinion
among those interested in the measure.” He
maintained further, in acceptance of the positions
taken by the Philadelphians, “that an interna-
tional copyright was not called for by reasons of
general equity or of constitutional law; that the
adoption of any plan which had been proposed
would be of very doubtful advantage to Ameri-
can authors, and would not only be an unques-
tionable and permanent injury to the interests
engaged in the manufacture of books, but a
hindrance to the diffusion of knowledge among
the people, and to the cause of American educa-
tion.”— The commission appointed by the British
government in 1876 to make inquiry in regard to
the laws and regulations relating to home, Colo-
nial and international copyright, made reference
*
PROPERTY.
405
in the following terms to the present relations of
British authors with this country: “It has been
suggested to us that this country would be justi-
fied in taking steps of a retaliating character with
a view of enforcing, incidentally, that protection
from the United States which we accord to them.
This might be done by withdrawing from the
Americans the privilege of copyright on first pub-
lication in this country. We have, however,
come to the conclusion, that, on the highest pub-
lic grounds of policy and expediency, it is advis-
able that our laws should be based on correct
principles, without respect to the opinions or the
policy of other nations. We admit the propriety
of protecting copyright, and it appears to us that
the principle of copyright, if admitted, is of uni-
versal application. We therefore recommend that
this country should pursue the policy of recog-
nizing the rights of authors, irrespective of na-
tionality.” Here is a claim for a far-seeing, states-
man-like policy, based upon principles of wide
equity, and planned for the permanent advantage
of literature in England and throughout the
world. — It is mortifying for Americans, pos-
sessed of any sensitiveness not only for their
national honor but for their national reputation for
common sense, to see quoted abroad as “the
American view of the copyright question” such
utterances as the resolutions adopted in the meet-
ing previously referred to, held in Philadelphia in
January, 1872. The meeting was presided over
by Henry Carey Baird, and may be considered
as having represented the opinious of the Tenn-
sylvania protectionists, opinions which, while not,
as I believe, shared by the majority of our com-
munity, do still succeed in shaping the economic
policy of the nation. The resolutions are as fol-
lows: 1. That thought, unless expressed, is the
property of the thinker; when given to the world,
it is, as light, free to all. 2. As property it can
only demand the protection of the municipal law
of the country to which the thinker is subject.
3. The author of any country, by becoming a cit-
izen of this, and assuming and performing the
duties thereof, can have the same protection that
an American author has. 4. The trading of priv-
ileges to foreign authors for privileges to be grant-
ed to Americans is not just, because the interests
of others than themselves may be sacrificed there-
by. 5. Because the good of the whole people
and the safety of republican institutions demand
that books shall not be made costly for the mul-
titude by giving the power to foreign authors
to fix their price here as well as abroad. — The
first proposition is certainly a pretty safe one, as
thought, until expressed, can hardly incur any
serious risk of being appropriated. — The second
proposition, while admitting for a literary crea-
tion its claim to be classed as property, denies to
it the rights which are held to pertain to all prop-
erty in which the owner's title is absolute. The
property which would, if it still existed, most
nearly approximate to such a definition as above
given, is that in slaves. Twenty-five years ago
the title to an African chattel who was worth in
Charleston say $1,000, became valueless if said
chattel succeeded in slipping across to Bermuda.
It is this ephemeral kind of ownership, limited by
accidental political boundaries, that the Philadel-
phia protectionists are willing to concede to the
Creation of a man’s mind, the productions into
which have been absorbed the gray matter of his
brain, and possibly the best part of his life. — In
regard to the third proposition, it may be said
that the protection accorded to American authors
is, according to their testimony, most unremuner-
ative and unsatisfactory; and it is difficult to un-
derstand why a European author, who has before
Him, under international conventions, the markets
of his native country and of all the civilized
world, excepting belated America, should be ex-
pected to give up these for the poor half loaf ac-
corded to his American brother. — The fourth
proposition strikes one as rather a remarkable
protest to come from Philadelphia. Here are a
number of American producers (of literature) who
ask for a very moderate amount of protection (if
that is the proper term to apply to a mere recog-
nition of property rights) for their productions;
but the Philadelphians, filled with an unwonted
zeal for the welfare of the community at large,
say: “No; this won’t do; prices would be higher,
and consumers would suffer.” — The last proposi-
tion appears to show that this want of practical
sympathy with the producers of literature is not
due to any lack of interest in the public enlight-
enment. It may well, however, be doubted
whether education as a whole, including the im-
portant branch of ethics, is advanced by permit-
ting our citizens to appropriate, without compen-
sation, the labor of others, while through such
appropriation they are also assisting to deprive
our own authors of a portion of their rightful
earnings. But apart from that, the proposition,
as stated, proves too much. It is fatal to all copy-
right and to all patent right. If the good of the
community and the safety of republican institu-
tions demand, that, in order to make books cheap,
the claim to a compensation for the authors must
be denied, why should we continue to pay copy-
rights to Lowell and Whittier, or to the families
of Longfellow and Irving? The so-called owners
of these copyrights actually have it in their pow-
er, in co-operation with their publishers, to “fix
the prices” of their books in this market. This
monopoly must indeed be pernicious and danger-
ous when it arouses Pennsylvania to come to the
rescue of oppressed and impoverished consumers
against the exactions of greedy producers, and to
raise the cry of “free books for free men.”—
Early in 1880 a draft of an international copy-
right treaty was prepared, which received the Sup-
port of nearly all the publishers, including Messrs.
Harper, who had found reasons since 1872 to mod-
ify their views, and of some authors. The latter,
together with the publishing firms which had pre-
viously been most active in behalf of a measure,
gave their assent to this, not because they
406
PROPERTY.
thought its provisions on the whole wise or desir-
able, but because the middle ground that it took
between an author's bill, without any restrictions,
and the extreme “manufacturing view º' of the
Philadelphians, seemed most likely to secure the
general support required; and it was believed, that
if a copyright could once be inaugurated, it ought
not to prove difficult to amend it in the direction
of greater liberty and greater simplicity. — The
proposed treaty provided that copyright should
be accorded reciprocally to English and American
works, the foreign editions of which should be
issued not later than three months after the first
publication: the entries for copyright should, how-
ever, by means of title pages, be made simultane-
ously in the home and the foreign offices of regis-
try, and the several conditions applicable to the
national copyright enactments should be duly
complied with. It was further provided, in order
to secure the protection of the American copy-
rights, that the foreign work must be printed and
bound in this country, the privilege being accord-
ed of importing stereotype plates and electrotypes
of the illustrations. It is to be noted, that this
last clause indicates an advance in liberality of .
opinion since the suggestions of 1872 and of ear-
lier dates, in nearly all of which it was insisted
that the foreign work must be entirely remanu-
factured in this country. The authors and pub-
lishers who gave their signatures, under protest,
to the petition in behalf of this treaty, objected
principally to the brief term allowed for the
preparation and issue of the reprinted editions.
Many of the authors believed that there should
be no limit of time, while some of the leading
publishing houses insisted that the limit ought
to be twelve months, and should in no case ex-
ceed six months. Attention was especially called
to the fact that such a limitation as three months,
while a disadvantage to all authors whose repu-
tations were not sufficiently assured to enable
them to make advance agreements for their
works, would be especially detrimental to Amer-
ican writers, whose books were rarely under-
taken by English or continental reprinters until
they had secured a satisfactory home reputa-
tion. Chas. Scribner, Henry Holt & Co. and
Roberts Bros. united with G. P. Putnam’s Sons
in a protest against what seemed to them the
unwise and illiberal restrictions of the proposed
measure. These firms did not, however, think
best to withhold their signatures from the peti-
tion in behalf of the treaty, being of opinion,
that even if it might not prove practicable to
amend this before it was put into effect, amend-
ments could at a later date be introduced, and
that in any case, even a very faulty treaty would
be an advance over the present unsatisfactory and
iniquitous state of things. –In July, 1880, the
American members of the international copyright
committee, which had been appointed by the asso-
ciation for the reform of the law of nations, ad-
dressed to Mr. Evarts, secretary of state, a memo-
rial in behalf of a treaty practically identical with
the measure above specified, with the exception
of specifying no limit of time for the issue of
the reprint. — In September, 1880, Mr. Lowell, at
that time minister in London, submitted to Earl
Granville the draft of a treaty based upon the sug-
gestions of American publishers. Lord Granville
advised Mr. Lowell, in March, 1881, that the
British government would be interested in com-
pleting such treaty, but that an extension of the
term for republication from three months to six
would be considered essential, while a term of
twelve months was thought to be much more
equitable. —In March, 1881, the international lit-
erary association adopted the report of a commit-
tee appointed to examine the provisions of the
proposed treaty between the United States and
England. In this report the two countries were
congratulated at the prospect of an agreement so
important to the authors of each, and the United
States was especially congratulated upon the first
steps being taken to remove from the nation the
opprobrium of being the only people from whom
authors could not secure just treatment. The
provisions of the treaty calling for remanufacture,
and the brief term allowed for the preparation of
the reprint, were, however, sharply criticised. In
the spring of 1881, Sir Edward Thornton, the
British minister in Washington, received instruc-
tions from London to proceed to the considera-
tion of the treaty, provided the term for reprint
could be extended. President Garfield had taken
a strong interest in the matter, an interest which
Mr. Blaine was understood to share, and it was
expected that the treaty would be submitted to the
Senate in the fall of 1881. The death of Garfield
and the change in the state department appear to
have checked the progress of the business, and
there has since, to the date of this writing (June,
1883), been no evidence of any interest in it on
the part of the present administration. — It ap-
pears as if further consideration for the treaty
can be secured only on the strength of a popular
demand, based on a correct understanding of the
rights and just requirements of authors, Ameri-
can and foreign, and on an intelligent apprecia-
tion of the unworthy position toward the question
at present occupied by the United States, which
alone among civilized nations has failed to give
full recognition to literature as property. — This
brief historical sketch of the various national and
international enactments relating to copyrights, in-
dicates also the lines along which were developed
the ideas relating to authors’ rights. The con-
ception of property in literary ideas is of neces-
sity closely bound up with the conception of
property in material things. In tracing through
successive centuries the history of this last, we
find a continued development in its range and
scope corresponding to the development in civili-
zation itself, of which so large a factor is the
recognition of human rights and reciprocal hu-
man duties. –It would be beyond the scope of
this paper to go into the history of the property
idea. It is sufficient to point out, that what a man
DROPERTY.
407
owned appears in the first place to have been that
which he had “occupied,” and could defend with
his own strong arm. Later, it became what his
tribe could defend for him. With the organiza-
tion of tribes into nations, that which a man had
occupied, shaped, or created, was recognized as
his throughout the territory of his nation. — The
idea of protection by national law was widened
into an imperial conception by the Roman control
of the Roman world. With the shattering of the
empire, the former local views of property rights
(or, at least, of property possibilities) again ob-
tained, and were only gradually widened and ex-
tended by the growth, through commerce, of in-
ternational relations, a growth much retarded by
feudal claims and feudal strifes. The robber-
barons of the Rhine, by their crushing extortions
from traders, did what was in their power to sti-
fle commerce, and unwittingly laid the founda-
tions of the so-called protective system; and later,
the little trading communities, still hampered by
the baronial standard, built up at their gates bar-
riers against the admission of various products
from the outer world, the free purchase of which
by their own citizens would, as they imagined,
in some manner work to their impoverishment.
Barons and traders were alike fighting against the
international idea of property, under which that
which a man has created, or legitimately occu-
pied, is his own, and he is free to exchange it,
that is, entitled to be protected in the free ex-
change of it, throughout the civilized world, for
any other commodities or products. A man’s
ownership of a thing can not be called complete
if it is to be hampered with restrictions as to the
place where, or the Objects for which, he can ex-
change it. — To that extent the idea of interna-
tional copyright is bound up with the idea of free
trade. They both claim a higher and wider rec-
ognition for the rights of property, taking the
position, that what a man has created by his own
labor is his own, to do what he will with, subject
only to his proportionate contribution to the cost
of carrying on the organization of the community
under the protection of which his labor has been
accomplished, and to the single limitation that the
results of his labor shall not be used to the detri-
ment of his fellow-men. The opponents of free
trade would limit the right of the producer to ex-
change his products, saying, as to certain com-
modities, that he shall not be permitted to receive
them at all, and, as to others, that he must give
of his own product, in addition to the open mar-
ket equivalent of the article desired, an additional
quantity as a bonus to some of his favored fellow-
citizens. The opponents of international copy-
right assert that the producers of literary works
shall be at liberty to sell them only within cer-
tain political boundaries. The necessary deduc-
tion from such a position is, that the extent of
an author's remuneration is made to depend, not
upon the number of readers whom he had bene-
fited, but upon the extent of the political bound-
aries of the country in which he happened to be
a resident. —If the recognition of the fact that
aliens and citizens of foreign states (the “barba-
rians” of the Greeks and Romans) possessed rights
deserving of respect, had depended solely upon
the development of international ethics and hu-
manitarian principles, its growth would have been
still slower than has been the case. That growth
has, however, been powerfully furthered by utili-
tarian teachings. When men came to understand
that their own welfare was not hampered, but
furthered, by the prosperity of their neighbors,
reciprocity took the place of reprisals, and com-
mercial exchanges succeeded Chinese walls.-The
same result, in Europe at least, followed the un-
derstanding of the fact, that the development of
national literature, and the adequate compensation
of national authors, is largely dependent upon
the proper recognition of the property rights of
foreign authors: this understanding, added to the
widening conceptions of human rights, irrespect-
ive of boundaries, and the increasing assent to
the claim that the producer is entitled to compen-
sation proportioned to the extent of the service
rendered by his production, and to the number of
, his fellow-men benefited by this, have secured in-
ternational copyright arrangements on the part of
all countries where literature exists, excepting
only the great republic, which is founded on the
“rights of men.” — The question of the proper
duration of literary property has called forth a
long series of discussions and arguments, the
more important of which are referred to in Mr.
Macleod’s paper in this work. Authors have al-
most from the beginning taken the position that
literary property is the highest kind of property
in existence; that no right or title to a thing can
be so perfect as that which is created by a man’s
own labor and invention; that the exclusive right
of a man to his literary productions and to the
use of them for his own profit is as entire and
perfect as the faculties employed and labor be-
stowed are entirely and perfectly his own. “If
this claim be accepted,” says Noah Webster, “it
is difficult to understand on what logical prin-
ciple a legislature or court can determine that
an author enjoys only a temporary property in
his own productions. If a man's right to his
own property in writing is as perfect as to the
productions of his farm or his shop, how can the
former be abridged or limited, while the latter is
held without limitations? Why do the produc-
tions of manual labor reach higher in the scale of
rights of property than the productions of the in-
tellect?”— It is the case, however, that, notwith-
standing the logic of this position, no nation
to-day accords copyright for more than a limited
term, of which the longest is eighty years. In the
only countries in which the experiment of per-
petual copyright has been attempted, Holland,
Belgium, Sweden and Denmark, a return was
speedily made to protection for a term of years.
There appears to have been always apprehension
on the part of the public and the governments lest
an indefinite copyright might result in the accu-
408
PROPERTY.
mulation in the hands of traders of “literary
monopolies,” under which extortionate prices
would be demanded from successive generations
for the highest and most necessary productions of
national literature. It is hardly practicable to
estimate how well founded such apprehensions
may be, as no opportunities have as yet existed
for the development of such monopolies. It
seems probable that accumulations of literary
property would, as in the case of other property,
be so far regulated by the laws of supply and de-
mand as not to become detrimental to the interests
of the community. If a popular demand existed
or could be created for an article, it would doubt-
less be produced and supplied at the lowest price
that would secure the widest popular sale. If the
article was suited but for a limited demand, the
price, to remunerate the producer and owner,
would be proportionately higher. A further con-
sideration obtains in connection with literary
property which has also influenced the framing
of copyright enactments. The possibility exists
that the descendants of an author who have be-
come by inheritance the owners of his copyrights,
might, for one cause or another, desire to with-
draw the works from circulation. A case could
even occur in which parties desiring to suppress
works might possess themselves of the copyrights
for this purpose. The heirs of Calvin, if con-
verted to Romanism, would very naturally have
desired to suppress the circulation of the “Insti-
tutes”; and the history of literature affords, of
course, hundreds of instances in which there
would have been sufficient motive for the sup-
pressing, by any means which the nature of copy-
rights might render possible, works that had been
Once given to the world. It will, doubtless, be
admitted, that, in this class of cases, the develop-
ment of literature and freedom of thought would
alike demand the exercise of the authority of the
government on behalf of the community, to in-
Sure the continued existence of works in which
the community possessed any continued interest.
— The efforts in this country in behalf of inter-
national copyright have been always more or less
hampered by the question being confused with
that of a protective tariff. The strongest opposi-
tion to a copyright measure has uniformly come
from protectionists. – Richard Grant White said,
in 1868: “The refusal of copyright in the United
States to British authors is, in fact, though not
always so avowed, a part of the American pro-
tective system. With free trade, we shall have a
just international copyright.”— It would be dif-
ficult, however, for protectionists to show logical
grounds for their position. American authors are
manufacturers who are simply asking, first, that
they shall not be undersold in their home market
by goods imported from abroad on which no
(ownership) duty has been paid, which have been
simply “appropriated”; secondly, that the gov-
ernment may facilitate their efforts to secure com-
pensation for such of their own goods as are
enjoyed by foreigners. These are claims with
which a protectionist who is interested in devel-
oping American industry ought certainly to be in
sympathy. The contingency that troubles him,
however, is the possibility, that, if the English
author is given the right to sell his books in this
country, the copies sold may be, to a greater or
less extent, manufactured in England, and the
business of making these copies may be lost to
American printers, binders and paper men. He
is much more concerned for the protection of the
makers of the material casing of the book than
for that of the author who created its essential
substance. — It is evidently to the advantage of
the consumer, upon whose interest the previously-
referred-to Philadelphia resolutions lay so much
stress, that the labor of preparing the editions of
his books be economized as much as possible.
The principal portion of the cost of a first edition
of a book is the setting of the type, together with,
if the work is illustrated, the designing and en-
graving of the illustrations. If this first cost of
stereotyping and engraving can be divided among
several editions, say one for Great Britain, one for
the United States, and one for Canada and the
other colonies, it is evident that the proportion to
be charged to each copy printed is less, and that
the selling price per copy can be smaller, than
would be the case if this first cost had got to be
repeated in full for each market. It is, then, to
the advantage of the consumer, that, whatever
copyright arrangement be made, nothing shall
stand in the way of foreign stereotypes and illus-
trations being duplicated for use here whenever
the foreign edition is in such shape as to render
this duplicating an advantage and a Saving in
cost.—The few protectionists who have expressed
themselves in favor of an international copyright
measure, and some others who have fears as to
our publishing interest being able to hold its own
against any Open competition, insist upon the con-
dition that foreign works to obtain copyright must
be wholly remanufactured and republished in this
country. We have shown how such a condition
would, in the majority of cases, be contrary to the
interests of the American consumer, while the
British author is naturally opposed to it because,
in increasing materially the outlay to be incurred
by the American publisher in the production of
his edition, it proportionately diminishes the prof-
its, or prospects of profits, from which is calcu-
lated the remuneration that can be paid to the
author. — The suggestion, previously referred to,
of permitting the foreign book to be reprinted by
all dealers who would contract to pay the author
a specified royalty, has, at first sight, something
specious and plausible about it. It seems to be in
harmony with the principles of freedom of trade,
in which we are believers. It is, however, di-
rectly opposed to those principles. First, it im-
pairs the freedom of contract, preventing the
producer from making such arrangements for
supplying the public as seem best to him ; and
secondly, it undertakes, by paternal legislation,
to fix the remuneration that shall be given to the
PROPERTY.
409
producer for his work, and to limit the prices at
which this work shall be furnished to the con-
Sumer. There is no more equity in the govern-
ment's undertaking this limitation of the producer
and protection of the consumer in the case of books,
than there would be in that of bread or beef.
Further, such an arrangement would be of benefit
to neither the author, the public, nor the publish-
ers, and would, we believe, make of international
copyright, and of any copyright, a confusing and
futile absurdity. — A British author could hardly
obtain much satisfaction from an arrangement,
which, while preventing him from placing his
American business in the hands of a publishing
house selected by himself, and of whose responsi-
bility he could assure himself, would throw open
the use of his property to any dealers who might
scramble for it. He could exercise no control
over the style, the shape, or the accuracy of his
American editions; could have no trustworthy
information as to the number of copies the vari-
ous editions contained; and if he were tenacious
as to the collection of the royalties to which he
was entitled, he would be able in many cases to
enforce his claims only through innumerable law
suits, and would find the expenses of the collec-
tion exceed the receipts. – The benefit to the pub-
lic would be no more apparent. Any gain in the
cheapness of the editions produced would be more
than offset by their unsatisfactoriness; they would,
in the majority of cases, be untrustworthy as to
accuracy or completeness, and be hastily and
flimsily manufactured. A great many enterprises,
also, desirable in themselves, and that would be
of service to the public, no publisher could, under
such an arrangement, afford to undertake at all,
as, if they proved successful, unscrupulous neigh-
bors would, through rival editions, reap the bene-
fit of his judgment and his advertising. In fact,
the business of reprinting would fall largely into
the hands of irresponsible parties, from whom no
copyright could be collected. The arguments
against a measure of this kind are, in short, the
arguments in favor of international copyright. A
very conclusive statement of the case against the
equity or desirability from any point of view
of such an arrangement in regard to home copy-
right, was made before the British commission,
in 1877, by Herbert Spencer. — The recommen-
dation had been made, for the sake of securing
cheap books for the people, that the law should
give to all dealers the privilege of printing an
author's books, and should fix a copyright to
be paid to the author that should secure him
a “fair profit for his work.” Mr. Spencer ob-
jected: 1st. That this would be a direct interfer-
ence with the laws of trade, under which the
author had the right to make his own bargains.
2d. No legislature was competent to determine
what was a “fair rate of profit” for an author.
3d. No average royalty could be determined
which could give a fair recompense for the differ-
ent amounts and kinds of labor given to the pro-
duction of different classes of books. 4th. If the
legislature has the right to fix the profits of the
author, it has an equal right to determine that of
his associate in the publication, the publisher;
and if of the publisher, then also of the printer,
binder and paper maker, who all have an interest
in the undertaking. Such a right of control would
apply with equal force to manufacturers of other
articles of importance to the community, and
would not be in accordance with the present
theories of the proper functions of the govern-
ment. 5th. If books are to be cheapened by such
a measure, it must be at the expense of some por.
tion of the profits now going to the authors and
publishers; the assumption is, that book pro-
ducers and distributers do not understand their
business, but require to be instructed by the state
how to carry it on, and that the publishing busi-
ness alone needs to have its returns regulated by
law. 6th. The prices of the best books would in
many cases, instead of being lessened, be higher
than at present, because the publishers would re-
quire some insurance against the risk of rival
editions, and because they would make their first
editions smaller, and the first cost would have to
be divided among a less number of copies. Such
reductions of prices as would be made would be
on the flimsier and more popular literature, and
even on this could not be lasting. 7th. For the
enterprises of the most lasting importance to the
public, requiring considerable investment of time
and capital, the publishers require to be assured
of returns from the largest market possible, and
without such security enterprises of this character
could not be undertaken at all. 8th. Open com-
petition of this kind would, in the end, result in
crushing out the smaller publishers, and in con-
centrating the business in the hands of a few
houses whose purses had been long enough to
carry them through the long and unprofitable
contests that would certainly be the first effect of
such legislation. — All the considerations adduced
by Mr. Spencer have, of course, equal force with
reference to open international publishing, while
they may also be included among the arguments
in behalf of international copyright. —It is due to
American publishers to explain that, in the absence
of an international copyright, there has grown up
among them a custom of making payments to for-
eign authors, which has become, especially during
the last twenty-five years, a matter of very con-
siderable importance. Some of the English au-
thors who testified before the British Commission
stated that the payments from the United States
for their books exceeded their receipts in Great
Britain. These payments secure, of course, to the
American publisher no title of any kind to the
books. In some cases they obtain for him the use
of advance sheets, by means of which he is able
to get his edition printed a week or two in advance
of any unauthorized edition that might be pre-
pared. In many cases, however, payments have
been made some time after the publication of the
works, and when there was no longer even the
slight advantage of “advance sheets” to be gained
410
PROPERTY.
from them. —While the authorization of the Eng-
lish author can convey no title or means of defense
against the interference of rival editions, the lead-
ing publishing houses have, with very inconsider-
able exceptions, respected each other's arrange-
ments with foreign authors, and the editions an-
nounced as published “by arrangement with the
author,” and on which payments in lieu of copy-
right have been duly made, have not been, as a
rule, interfered with. This understanding among
the publishers goes by the name of “the courtesy
of the trade.” I think it is safe to say that it
is to-day the exception for an English work of
any value to be published by any reputable house
without a fair, and often a very liberal, recognition
being made of the rights (in equity) of the author.
In view of the considerable amount of harsh lan-
guage that has been expended in England upon
Our American publishing houses, and the opinion
prevailing in England that the wrong in reprint-
ing is entirely one-sided, it is in order here to make
the claim which can, I believe, be fully substan-
tiated, that, in respect to the recognition of the
rights of authors unprotected by law, their record
has in fact, during the past twenty-five years, been
better than that of their English brethren. Eng-
lish publishers have become fully aroused to the
fact that American literary material has value and
availability, and each year a larger amount of this
material has had the honor of being introduced to
the English public. According to the statistics of
1878, 10 per cent. of the works issued in England
in that year were American reprints. The ac-
knowledgments, however, of any rights on the
part of American authors have been few and far
between, and the payments but inconsiderable
in amount. The leading English houses would
doubtless very much prefer to follow the Ameri-
can practice of paying for their reprinted material,
but they have not succeeded in establishing any
general understanding similar to our American
“courtesy of the trade,” and books that have been
paid for by one house are, in a large number of
cases, promptly reissued in cheaper rival editions
by other houses. It is very evident, that, in the
face of Open and unscrupulous competition, con-
tinued or considerable payments to authors are
difficult to provide for; and the more credit is due
to those firms who have, in the face of this diffi-
culty, kept a good record with their American
authors. — One of the not least important results
to be looked for from international copyright is
a more effective co-operation in their work on the
part of the publishers of the two great English-
speaking nations. They will find their interest
and profit in working together; and the very great
extension that may be expected in the custom of
a joint investment in the production of books for
both markets, will bring a very material saving
in the first cost, a saving in the advantage of
which authors, publishers and public will alike
share. —It seems probable that the “courtesy of
the trade,” which has made possible the present
relations between American publishers and for-
eign authors, is not going to retain its effective-
ness. Within the last few years certain “libraries”
and “series” have sprung into existence, which
present in cheaply-printed pamphlet form some of
the best recent English fiction. The publishers of
these series reap the advantage of the literary
judgment and foreign connections of the older
publishing houses, and, taking possession of ma-.
terial that has been carefully selected and liberally
paid for, are able to offer it to the public at prices.
which are certainly low as compared with those
of bound books that have paid copyright, but are
doubtless high enough for literature that is so.
cheaply obtained and so cheaply printed. These
enterprises have been carried on by concerns.
which have not heretofore dealt in standard fic-
tion, and which are not prepared to respect the
international arrangements or trade courtesies of
the older houses. – To one of the ‘‘cheap series”
the above remarks do not apply. The “Franklin
Square Library” is published by a house which
makes a practice of paying for its English literary
material, and which lays great stress upon “the
courtesy of the trade.” It is generally understood
that this series was planned, not so much as a pub-
lishing investment, as for purposes of Self-defense,
and that it would in all probability not be contin-
ued after the necessity for self-defense had passed
by. A good many of its numbers include works
for which the usual English payments have been
made, and it seems probable, that, in this shape,
books so paid for can not secure a remunerative
sale. It seems safe to conclude, therefore, that
their publication is not, in the literal sense of the
term, a business investment, and that the under-
taking was not planned to be permanent. — A
very considerable business in cheap reprints has
also sprung up in Canada, from which point are
circulated throughout the western states cheap
editions of English works, for the “advance
sheets” and “American market” of which United
States publishers have paid liberal prices. Some
enterprising Canadian dealers have also taken
advantage of the present confusion between the
United States postal and customs regulations to
build up a trade by supplying through the mails
reprints of American copyright works, in editions
which, being flimsily printed and free of charge
for copyright, can be sold at very moderate prices
indeed. —It is very evident, that, in the face of
competition of this kind, the payments by Ameri-
can publishers to foreign writers of fiction must
be materially diminished. These pamphlet series
have, however, done a most important Service
in pointing out the absurdity of the present con-
dition of literary property, and in emphasizing
the need of an international copyright law. In
connection with the change in the conditions of
book manufacturing before alluded to, they may
be credited as having influenced a material modi-
fication of opinion on the part of certain publish-
ers who have in years, past Opposed an inter-
national copyright as either inexpedient or unnec-
essary, but who are now quoted as ready to give
PROPORTIONAL REPRESENTATION.
411
their support to any practicable and equitable
measure that may be proposed. —We may, I
trust, be able, at no very distant period, to look
back upon, as exploded fallacies of an antiquated
barbarism, the two beliefs, that the material pros-
perity of a community can be assured by Sur-
rounding it with Chinese walls of restriction to
prevent it from purchasing in exchange for its own
products its neighbor's goods, and that its moral
and mental development can be furthered by the
free exercise of the privilege of appropriating its
neighbor's books. GEO. HAVEN PUTNAM.
PROPORTIONAL REPRESENTATION.
Democracy has as its basis the right of the individ-
ual to be represented in the government of his
country. This right has been distorted into the
alleged right of a majority of men to be so rep-
resented, and to deny a like power to all others.
Three causes have led to this: first, the fact, that
all government rests at last upon Superior physical
force, and that in every civilized country a major-
ity of its men is a stronger force than all the rest
of the community; second, the belief that legis-
lative bodies would find it too difficult to do
even the little done now if the minority of voters
was fully represented (the common phrase of a
“working majority” condenses this idea); and,
third, the practical impossibility of representing
all minorities, with the illogical deduction of the
uselessness of representing any. — The first cause
would justify the seizure of a country and the
overtlirow of its institutions by any one who could
persuade one more than half of its adult males to
join him. The second is due to the existence in
legislatures of a foolish partisan spirit, based on
a desire to use public positions as party plunder,
and to the non-existence of reasonable rules of
procedure. Civil service reform will destroy ab-
surd partisanship. Experience will create a prop-
er procedure. It would be difficult, if not im-
possible, to represent all minorities. If 1,000,000
voters elect 100 representatives, one voter whose
views differ wholly from those of all the rest,
can not well be represented. But nearly all mi-
norities can be represented, and should be, unless
government of the people by the people is wrong.
— A crude form of minority representation often
prevails, for a time, when a legislature is composed
of two chambers. Whenever there is a liberal
ministry in England and the house of lords dares
to use its constitutional rights, this is true. The
senate of the United States has not infrequently
occupied the same position, notably in 1876, and
again in 1883. Such a condition of affairs is often a
good one in checkinghasty legislation and insuring
that public opinion, rather than public passion,
shall be reflected in the statutes. But it is politi-
cally wrong. For it gives the minority more than
proportional representation. It gives it a veto on
the measures of the majority. Such a power,
persistently used, would lead to revolution in any
free country. — A few figures may serve to show
the injustice of the existing methods or election
in the United States and in Great Britain. — In the
latter, two men have sat in the same house of
commons, one of whom received 18,292 votes,
and the other 69; ten successful candidates have
polled 159,650 votes, while ten other successful
ones polled 1,873, and ten defeated ones, 83,117;
ten millions of the English people have elected 302
members, when twelve millions returned 187; of
the lucky ten millions, 1,850,000 sent 81 members,
and 3,008,000 sent 22; and 952,000 persons have
returned 120 members, while 7,500,000 returned
96. — In the United States, about 8,000,000 men
voted, in 1882, for candidates for the forty-eighth
congress. More than 3,500,000 of them, nearly
44 per cent. of the whole, voted for unsuccessful
candidates, and therefore have no representation
in the present congress. That is, the American
system of majority representation practically dis-
franchised forty-four out of every hundred men
to whom American laws gave the franchise. If
we take the votes cast for Grant and Greeley in
November, 1872, and divide each by the number of
congressmen elected by the party in question, we
find that a successful republican candidate re-
quired, on an average, 18,076 votes, while a lib-
eral, to insure success, had to get 30,474. That
is, majority representation made one republican
vote worth one and three-fourths liberal votes.
In 1866, when the fortieth congress was elected,
one republican vote equaled two and one-fourth
democratic votes. In 1872 the administration
party received 55.93 per cent. of the popular vote;
the opposition, 44.07 per cent. But the respective
strengths of the two parties in congress were 68.15.
and 31.85 per cent. That is, majority representa-
tion added nearly forty-four per cent. to the just
congressional power of the majority. In 1880 it
took 29,500 votes to elect a republican congress-
man, and 33,500 to give him a democratic col-
league. In 1882 the successful democrat, got, on
an average, less than 21,000 votes, while the suc-
cessful republican had to poll more than 28,000.
Of the 8,000,000 persons who voted in 1882,
1,792,000 elected 163 members of Congress, a
majority of the whole body. If these 163 vote
together on any question (which is merely im-
probable, not impossible), they can carry it,
though they represent less than one-fourth of the
voters who took part in the election, and less than
one-fifth of the voters in the country. A minority
of less than one-fourth would then rule the na-
tion, and perhaps dictate its policy for a term of
years. To prevent the possibility of minority
rule, minority representation must be granted. —
The ideal sought by all systems of proportional
representation is this: Every vote cast at the polls
for a candidate for membership in a law-making
assembly should count in every vote taken in that
assembly, whether or not the particular person
voted for is elected. Seven methods of reform in
representation have been suggested. These are,
the proxy, the limited, the cumulative and the
double vote, the free list or registered ballot, the
Andrae (or Hare) system, and totality representa-
412
PROPORTIONAL REPRESENTATION.
tion. The limited, the cumulative and the Andrae
plans have been tried on a large Scale. — The
proxy vote regards every vote for a legislative
candidate as an informal power of attorney, and
authorizes him, if elected, to cast as many votes as
were cast for him. The fatal objection lies in the
“if.” If a candidate is not elected, his support-
ers have no representation whatever. This plan
merely makes the power of local majorities great-
er than it is now, and so offers a standing reward
for the fraudulent increase of such majoritics. –
The limited vote applies only to elections in which
three or more places are to be filled. Some Eng-
lish boroughs choose members of parliament in
this fashion. Every elector can cast as many votes
as there are vacancies, less one. If three men are
to be chosen, he can vote for two; if four, three.
But he can not give more than one vote to one
man. This plan fails to give representation to
any but a very large minority. Suppose 100,000
electors, and three places to be filled. A minority
of 39,997 can elect nobody, for the majority of
60,003 can cast 120,006 votes, which, divided
among three candidates, will give each 40,002.
In case of an accidental vacancy, under this sys-
tem, a direct majority vote must decide the suc-
cession. — The cumulative vote gives every elector
as many votes as there are places to be filled, and
allows him to concentrate or scatter them as he
will. This plan also recognizes the rights only of
large minorities. It is not proportional. Let the
number of vacancies equal a. A minority of less
than z-H +1 loses all representation. If there are
100,000 electors and three vacancies, 25,001 electors
can secure one member (which is more than their
share), but any less number must go unrepre-
sented. Again, a very large minority does not
get enough representation. If the 100,000 electors
stand 50,001 to 49,999, the minority can get but
one member, provided their opponents concentrate
on two. The cumulative vote usually involves a
great waste. In the first election of the London
school board, conducted on this plan, the leading
candidate received nearly 50,000 votes, while her
colleagues were elected by from 8,000 to 13,000,
and 50,000 were wholly lost. This system also
makes no provision for the filling of accidental
vacancies. Under the last constitution of the
state of Illinois, adopted in 1870, the members of
the lower house of the state legislature are chosen
in this way, three from each district. This llas
been moderately successful. Parties have been
better balanced in the legislature, and some better
men have been sent there from the country dis-
tricts. In the cities and towns, however, the most
marked result has been to make king caucus more
of a monarch than ever. A premium is put on
the bargainings of party managers at the cost of
party voters. By limiting the number of candi-
dates on each side, the managers practically run a
joint ticket, a proceeding which is rarely conducive
to the public welfare. A similar provision in the
same constitution in regard to the election of the
Officers of private corporations seems to have had
no results. – The double vote requires two elec-
tions. The first tests the relative strength of the
Several parties, and so determines how many rep-
resentatives each shall have. If, with a legislature
of 100 members, 600,000 persons vote the liberal
ticket and 400,000 the conservative, the liberals
become entitled to sixty members, and their oppo-
nents to forty. At a supplemental election each
party selects its representatives. The double vote
involves a waste of time, trouble and money, but
it solves to a certain extent the problem of filling
an accidental vacancy, and is worth more atten-
tion than other systems far better known. — The
free list, or registered ballot scheme, provides that
a certain number of citizens can make nomina-
tions by registering a list of names, the number of
which shall not exceed the number of places to
be filled. At the ensuing election only the lists
thus registered can be voted for. The number of
votes needed to elect is found by dividing the
whole number of votes by the number of vacan-
cies. If there are 100,000 voters, and ten places
to be filled, the quota is 10,000. Suppose four
tickets to be nominated, which receive respectively
35,000, 30,000, 27,400, and 7,600 votes. As the
first has three times the quota, the first three men
On it are elected. The second ticket also has three
men elected, and the third two. The largest two
remainders are those for the fourth and the third
ticket, 7,600 and 7,400. The first nominee on the
fourth ticket and the third on the third are there-
fore chosen. There is a waste of votes here. The
men elected on the four tickets represent, respect-
ively, 11,666, 10,000, 9,133 and 7,600 voters.
Since 7,600 ballots suffice to elect a candidate,
24,000 ballots, nearly one-fourth of the whole,
have been wasted. Again, in the event of the
death, resignation or expulsion of a legislator, and
a consequent special election, the free list can not
be used.— The Andrae system of proportional rep-
resentation is commonly known in Great Britain
and America'as the Hare system, but Mr. Andrae
introduced the practice of it in Denmark two
years before Mr. Hare called attention to the
theory of it in England. Under this system the
quota of votes needed to elect a candidate is found
as it is under the free list. Every elector puts as
many names as he pleases on his ballot, numbered
one, two, etc. As the ballots are taken from the
box, each is credited to the name which is first
upon it. If the electoral quota has already been
cast for this first name, the ballot is credited to the
second name upon it, and so on till all the full
quotas have been ascertained. The largest frac-
tions of quotas then elect, as under the free list
system. This plan is somewhat complex, but not
unduly so. It reduces the waste of votes almost
to a minimum, except in the case of a special
election or of an unusual number of candidates.
The gravest objection to it is, that in transferring
votes the real wishes of very many electors may
be wholly ignored; chance may conquer choice.
Suppose 100,000 electors, and two men to be
elected ; A is everybody's first choice; B and C
PROTECTION.
413
each stand Segond on 50,000 papers. It makes a
great difference which 50,000 ballots are counted
for A. Chance or cunning, not choice, will elect
B or C, as the case may be. Again, Suppose B to
stand second on 74,500 papers, and C on 25,500.
If all the ballots counted for A have B as second
choice, B's remaining 24,500 votes are eclipsed by
C’s 25,500, and C is elected, although B’s real
majority over him is 49,000. — The formula of
totality representation is this: after every general
election of a law-making assembly, let the aggre-
gate number of votes cast by each party be ascer-
tained; divide this by the number of representa-
tives elected by the party in question; the quotient
will be the number of votes which each of those
representatives is entitled to cast. — Suppose that
of 8,000,000 voters, who choose a congress of
300 members, 4,500,000 belong to one party and
3,500,000 to the other. It is quite possible that
the congress thus chosen would stand 200 to 100.
This estimate gives the majority less proportion-
al weight than it has had in several congres-
sional elections. While the parties in the nation
were as nine to seven, they would be in the
house as two to one. The legal majority in the
latter would be 100; the equitable, 38. But apply
the plan here proposed. Each of the majority
has (4,500,000 - 200–) 22,500 votes; each of the
minority has (3,500,000 - 100 =) 35,000 votes.
The end sought is attained. The strength of
each party in the house is a precise index to its
strength in the nation. There is not an unrep-
resented man in the country. — Under totality
representation, an independent legislator would
cast the number of votes he received. The bal-
lots thrown for the man he defeated would be
credited to that man’s party. If an independent
candidate were defeated, his supporters’ votes
could be credited to other independents or go to
swell the sum total of one of the two great parties.
His constituents could express their wishes in this
respect on their ballots. –Fraud would be dimin-
ished by diminishing its usefulness. If we take
our hypothetical figures of 8,000,000 voters, di-
vided into two parties, of 4,500,000 and 3,500,000,
represented by 200 and 100 members of congress
respectively, 50,000 fraudulent votes in favor of
the majority would doubtless ensure the return of
ten more members. The party in power would
then have 210 to the opposition’s 90. But under
this system the administration would have a
voting strength of 4,550,000 to its opponents’
3,500,000. In the first case, the fraud would in-
crease the party majority by 20 per cent.; in the
Second case, by 5 per cent. — At first the process
of recording the votes of the legislature might be a
trifle slow, but after two or three days’ experience
under the apportionment which would follow each
general election, a clerk could reckon the result of
a doubtful vote about as quickly as if it were taken
by yeas and nays. – The totality representation
system would make every vote cast at the polls at
an election of a law-making assembly count in
every vote taken in that assembly, whether or not
the particular person, voted for was elected. It
would bring many habitual absentees to the polls,
by giving every vote its proper weight, and would
thus maintain a healthy public interest in poli-
tics. Its introduction would involve no sweeping
changes, either in electoral districts or in modes
of election. The ignorant citizen could vote as
before, without being perplexed by new methods.
All the necessary calculations would be made for
him after the election. The system would stop
“gerrymandering” by making it useless. A vote,
wherever cast, would count. Finally, totality rep-
resentation would allow an accidental vacancy to
be filled at once, without depriving the minority
in the particular district of its due representation.
The new figures from this district would be sub-
stituted for the old ones in the aggregate vote of
each party; each aggregate would be divided as
before; and the quotient would be the number of
votes which each representative of the party in
question would be entitled to cast. — See Memo-
Tandum on the History, Working &nd Results of
Cumulative Voting, by Thomas Hare, 1857; The
Election of Representatives, Parliamentary and
Municipal, by Thomas Hare; Considerations on
Representative Government, by John Stuart Mill,
1862; On Representative Government, by Simon
Sterne, 1871; Essays and Lectures, Political and
Social, by Henry Fawcett and Millicent G. Faw-
cett, 1872; MacMillan’s Magazine, November, 1872;
MŽnority or Proportional Representation, by Salem
Dutcher, 1872; Proportional Representation, by
Charlos R. Buckalew, 1872; The New Englander,
July, 1874; The Science of Polities, by Sheldon
Amos, 1883. ALFRED BISHOP MASON.
PROTECTION. RESTRICTIONS UPON FREE-
DOM OF ExCHANGE. I. Fiscal Duties, or Duties
for Revenue only. Notwithstanding the evident
advantages of freedom of exchange, it has been
restricted by two kinds of measures, fiscal and
prohibitory ones. We shall first consider the
former. — It is easy to conceive how exchanges
came to be restricted with a view to the wants of
the treasury. As soon as avenues of communica-
tion began to be opened and exchanges to multi-
ply, governments began to perceive that it was
both possible and profitable to tax articles which
found a market through the new ways. At first the
tax was a simple toll for meeting the expense of
maintaining the roads worn by the transportation
of merchandise: soon it served also to reimburse
the treasury for other public services, among
which may be counted the security afforded those
making the exchanges. But, in imposing a tax of
this kind, the end in view was not the restriction
of trade, it was simply to procure as much money
as possible for the treasury, and this fiscal end
could not be attained without trade being ham-
pered thereby. — Unfortunately, a good financial
course was rarely adopted. In the middle ages,
for example, every country was divided up into a
multitude of little seignories or chatellanies, whose
proprietors arrogated to themselves the right of
414
PROTECTION.
taxing the exchanges within their territorial limits.
These artificial obstacles, being interposed in ad-
dition to the natural obstacle of distance, resulted
in such an interception of the exchanges as pre-
vented the extension of trade. Consequently, the
industries, being confined to the chatellany or the
commune for a market, long remained in an un-
developed state. As the means of production
could not be developed, wealth and civilization
made no progress, save on the Seacoasts and along
the great rivers, where fewer obstacles impeded
free circulation. — Later, the feudal system having
disappeared, the number of tolls was diminished,
and there was at the same time augmented Secu-
rity of communication. The sphere of the ex-
changes at once became enlarged, a better division
of labor became possible, and public wealth de-
veloped as if by enchantment. The establishment
of the uniform tariff of Colbert in France, and the
abolition of internal customs duties by the Con-
stituent assembly, contributed greatly to these
results. – In our day the Octroi and excise duties,
river tolls, tonnage duties, etc., in Europe, which
directly affect the circulation of supplies, have a
purely fiscal character. Until better means have
been found for providing for the public expenses,
or until the offices for which the tax furnishes the
salaries are by degrees relegated to the domain of
private industry, it will be difficult to find a sub-
stitute for these taxes. It is only to be regretted
that they have become so numerous and are SO
exorbitant; for, by their excess, they hinder the
growth of trade, retard progress in the division of
labor, and consequently prevent, in no small de-
gree, an increase of revenue to the treasury.—Not-
withstanding the hindrance to the development
of trade, resulting from the establishment of fiscal
taxes, the principle of these taxes can not be
assailed. If they restrict the sphere of the ex-
changes, it is inevitable; but their object is not
to restrict. — II. Protective or Prohibitory Duties.
Their character and effects. Protective or prohib-
itory duties have an entirely different character.
These are established with direct view to limiting
the sphere of exchange. They restrict in order to
restrict. The governments which have persistently
imposed them, apparently with the idea that the
organization and development of the exchanges:
could not be safely left to the rule of Provi-
dence, have interposed “to regulate the matter.”
We shall see whether these organizers of the ex-
changes were well inspired. Butletus first ascer-
tain what are the defenses of the protective system.
— Considered as a whole, the protective or pro-
hibitory system includes two kinds of impedi-
ments, viz., prohibitions or protective duties on
the importation of merchandise, and prohibitions
on its export. It includes also premiums awarded
to the exporters or importers of certain classes of
supplies. Finally, it has served as a basis for the
colonial system, as well as for tariff agreements or
commercial treaties. – Prohibitions or protective
duties imposed on imported merchandise, have for
their object to favor the development of certain
spinning it itself?
branches of national production at the expense of
the same industries in foreign countries. – Pro-
hibitions against exporting are sometimes imposed
in order to keep certain supplies, essential to the
industries or to national consumption, at a low
price, or to restrict foreign industries or foreign
consumption. — Premiums on export are pecu-
niary encouragement awarded to certain branches
of national industry at the expense of other branch-
es. Sometimes their object is to hasten the de-
velopment of an industry deemed necessary, or to
counteract the protective duties imposed by foreign
countries. Sometimes, again, they are imposed
simply as a remedy for a sudden panic. The
drawbacks are premiums to reimburse the exporter
of a manufactured product, for the tax paid on
the raw materials imported. Premiums on im-
portation are ordinarily of a transient character:
in past times they were sometimes employed in
cases of dearth, for example, to encourage the im-
portation of food supplies. – Customs agreements
and commercial treaties are partial and temporary
breaches of prohibitory tariffs, in favor of certain
nations with which it is desired to maintain espe-
cially friendly relations. – Prohibitions or protect-
ive taxes on importation constitute the principal
weapon of the system. To obtain a clear idea of
the manner in which they operate, let us take an
example. Suppose the nation A annually fur-
nishes the nation B a thousand tons of spun cot-
ton. Why does B buy this cotton of A instead of
Because the manufactories of
A are so situated and organized as to produce
spun cotton in better quality and at lower price
than manufactories in B could possibly do: be-
cause the nation A is more advantageously situat-
ed in respect to the conditions for the manufacture
of cotton. If it were not so, cotton would be
manufactured in B as well as in A. But here a
statesman of B persuades himself that it would be
useful to “ravish” this industry from the foreign-
er, and that the importation of cotton thread
should be interdicted. Suppose this statesman
can prevent the people of B from receiving the
thousand tons of cotton which had been annually
furnished them by A, as is possible if the frontier
is easy to guard, and is provided with a sufficient
number of proved and well-paid officers. Suppose
he also promotes the erection of a certain number
of mills in B for spinning cotton. Can he place
these spinning mills under conditions of produc-
tion as favorable as those of the mills of A2 Can
he cause cotton to be spun as well and as econom-
ically as in A2 No; for he is not master of the
natural conditions of cotton production: these
he can not change. All he can do, is to prevent
cotton which has been spun at low cost from en-
tering B. There his power stops. The nation B
now ceases to be “invaded '' (this is the conse-
crated term of the prohibitionist's vocabulary) by
the thousand tons of spun cotton from A. It
makes its own cotton; but this cotton costs more
than that of A, and is of a poorer quality; and
less of it is consequently consumed. Before pro-
PROTECTION.
415
hibition, the consumption of B took a thousand
tons of spun cotton; after prohibition, it no longer
takes more than six or seven tenths of this quan-
tity; whence results a diminution, by this differ-
ence, in the total production of cotton. Suppose,
now, that the nation A imitates the course of B,
and prohibits, for example, the importation of
spun flax, which it formerly received in exchange
for its supplies of cotton. Flax will begin to be
spun in A; but as it will be spun at greater cost
than in B, and not so well, the total production
of linen will in turn be diminished. Less will be
produced by both nations, though with as great or
greater expenditure of effort than before; and one
country will not be as well provided with linen,
and the other with cotton. — At the time when
this mischievous policy became the law in inter-
national relations, and every nation was trying to
“ravish” manufactures from foreigners, a very
spirited pamphlet was published in England, un-
der the title “ Monkey Economists.” A vignette
representing a barrack of monkeys served as a
frontispiece. Half a dozen monkeys, placed in
separate compartments, were coming to receive
their regular allowance; but, instead of each one
peaceably consuming the portion allotted him by
his keeper, these animals were each maliciously
attempting to “ravish” the portions of their
neighbors, without perceiving that the latter were
engaged in the same operation. Thus every one
exerted himself to the utmost to obtain by stealth
that which could have been easily found directly
before him; and the common fund of subsistence
was diminished by all that was wasted or lost in
the scramble. — Exactly such has been the con-
duct of governments which have adopted the
errors of the prohibitory system. They have neg-
lected the wealth which Providence bestowed
upon them, to purloin that which had been al-
lotted to their neighbors. They have, by their
mischievous jealousy, rendered production more
difficult and less abundant : they have retarded
the growth of prosperity among the people. A
statesman who imposes a prohibitory or protect-
ive duty, acts precisely the reverse of an inventor
who discovers a new process for rendering pro-
duction more economical and more perfect : he
invents a way to render production more expen-
sive and not so good: he invents a process which
compels people to forsake fertile lands and pro-
ductive mines, to cultivate bad lands and work
poor mines. He is the reverse of an inventor: he
is the agent of barbarism, as an inventor is the
agent of civilization. — This becomes still more
evident when we examine the influence of the
prohibitory régime on progress in the industries.
Division of labor is one chief element of a low-
priced market ; the more labor is divided, the
more the expense of production is reduced, and
the more, consequently, prices are reduced. The
demonstrations of Adam Smith on this point have
become classical. But on what conditions can
labor become more and more subdivided? On
condition that it can find a continually widening
market. “As it is the power of exchanging,” said
Adam Smith (“Wealth of Nations,” book i., chap.
iii.), “that gives occasion to the division of labor,
so the extent of this division must always be
limited by the extent of that power, or, in other
words, by the extent of the market. * : * It is
impossible that there should be such a trade as
that of a nailer in the remote and inland parts of
the highlands of Scotland. Such a workman at
the rate of a thousand nails a day, and three hun-
dred working days in a year, will make three
hundred thousand nails in a year. But in such a
situation, it would be impossible to dispose of one
thousand, that is, of one day’s work, in a year.”
Division of labor, then, can be extended only as
the market is increased. Hence everything that
narrows the market must inevitably retard divis-
ion of labor and industrial progress. Now, by
systematically taking away from the most favored
industries a part of their market, the prohibitory
system compels manufacturers to reduce their
scale of production, and to divide labor less. In
cotton manufacture, for example, it would oblige
the spinners to spin coarse and fine numbers at the
same time, instead of confining themselves to a
few numbers or to one alone. Thus' production
would become more costly and less perfect. It is
true, however, that if prohibition contracts the
business of the established firms, it gives rise to
new ones. But what is the situation of these?
Placed, relatively to their rivals, in unfavorable
conditions of production, they can not create a
sale for their products outside of their own coun-
try. Now, this market is limited. An effort is
made, it is true, to remedy its insufficiency by
establishing premiums on exports, which will per-
mit the protected industries to compete in the
markets of their rivals. But, this proceeding be-
ing extremely costly and manifestly unjust, it
can be employed only to a limited degree. On
the one side, then, the industry situated under
favorable natural conditions is injured ; and on
the other, establishments which prohibition has
made to spring up artificially, find themselves so
situated that they can not extend their market
without imposing the most Onerous sacrifices on
the nation. Thus the artificial breaking up of the
markets, occasioned by the prohibitory régime,
has everywhere retarded division of labor, dimin-
ished progress in the industries, and at the same
time perpetuated high prices. – This is not all.
High prices are not the only evil which the pro-
hibitory régime has perpetuated, if not engen-
dered. To this evil may be added another not
less disastrous, viz., instability. The industries
which prohibition makes spring up under unfa-
vorable economic conditions, are continually ex-
posed to fatal lesions. Let the prohibitory duty
which permits their existence become lowered, or
surveillance be less guarded on the frontiers, and
they will infallibly be deprived of a part of their
trade. They then suffer all the disasters which
are consequent on industrial panics, and their
very existence is compromised. They resemble
416
PROTECTION.
those hot-house plants which perish as soon as
one ceases to supply them with the fuel necessary
to maintain their artificial existence. The condi-
tion of the national industries is no longer secure.
They have nothing to fear, it is true, for their
home market, for they are so situated as to defy
foreign competition; but the markets they have
been able to create abroad are essentially precari-
ous. At any moment prohibition may take from
them these markets, on which their existence in
part depends. The prohibitory régime, then,
causes production to be accompanied by risk,
and this inevitably has a disastrous effect on the
growth of industries as well as on the condi-
tion of the workman. — Prohibitory taxes on ex-
ports are generally less important than others,
but their effects are no more salutary. When re-
course has been had to them, it has usually been
in order to prevent or to restrict the exportation of
articles of subsistence and certain raw materials
essential to the industries of a country. Let us
see how they operate. Two cases may occur:
1st, where the production of the article whose
export is interfered with, is limited by nature;
2d, where it may be indefinitely increased. In
the former case, which is the more rare, prohibi-
tion acts at first simply as a tax levied upon cer-
tain producers for the benefit of certain consumers.
Suppose, for example, the French government
should prohibit the export of the choicest French
wines. What would result? It is not probable
that a smaller quantity of these would be pro-
duced; but the producers, obliged henceforth to
offer their whole vintage of these choice wines in
the home market, would no longer derive as much
profit from them. They would suffer for the
benefit of a certain class of French consumers.
Such would be, the near effect of the imposition
of the prohibitory duty. But the consumers
would have to suffer in their turn. The best
wines being taxed for the benefit of home con-
sumers, the production of fine wines would be
discouraged. No attempt would be made to im-
prove the inferior wines, lest they should also be
taxed. The home consumers would obtain, it is
true, the best wines at a lower price; but they
would have to renounce the advantages they might
have received from an improvement in the inferior
wines. The final result of it all would be that
they would be more poorly provided with fine
wines, and would have to pay more for them. —
In the second case, i. e., where production may be
indefinitely increased, prohibition on export would
be at once followed by diminished production of
the prohibited article. If the latter were, for ex-
ample, wheat or any other article of food, or silk,
flax, or raw hemp, the production of these articles
would be gradually reduced until it was propor-
tioned to the market. Prices would doubtless
fall greatly in the meantime; but they would
again rise. In fact, the diminished market would
compel producers to restrict their operations; and
those who produced on a small scale, no longer
being able to divide their labor so efficiently,
change silk goods.
would eventually be driven from the market, be-
cause production would have become more costly
to them. The remaining producers then having
the monopoly, might raise prices so that the con-
Sumer would in the end suffer from a measure
Originally intended for his benefit. But if the
object of the prohibition is to deprive a rival in-
dustry of its necessary material, this selfish meas.
ure will result in encouraging the production of a
similar article abroad. Thus England, by putting
a high export duty on coal, contributed to the de-
velopment of mineral production in Belgium. —
To sum up, then, high prices on the one hand,
and instability on the other, result from the pro-
hibitory régime; the high prices arising from the
bad conditions of production in which this régime
places the industries, and the obstacle it interposes
to division of labor, when it does not cause a mo-
nopoly; and the instability resulting from modifi-
cations in the tariffs, which continually produce
panics in the markets. –III. Causes which have led
to the establishment of the Protective or Prohibitory
Régime. It must seem astonishing that a system
So clearly disastrous to the people, so opposed to
progress in wealth and civilization, could have
become established. Its origin must be principally
attributed to certain circumstances inherent in the
condition of barbarism and war in the midst of
which it arose. Nations, which had been from
their commencement hostile to each other, and al-
most continually at war, could not exchange their
products in any permanent or regular manner.
Each was obliged to provide for itself most of the
articles of its consumption. War then acted as
an artificial obstacle added to the natural obstacle
of distances. When peace succeeded war, this
artificial obstacle disappeared. Unfortunately, its
removal was only accidental and temporary : a
new war soon arose, when the obstacle reappeared
at once. Let us endeavor to obtain an idea of
the precise effect which sudden changes of this
sort might have on the state of production. Sup-
pose two nations, C and D, the first supplying the
second with woolen goods while receiving in ex-
A war arises, and exchanges
are immediately interrupted. The consumers of
D can no longer receive the woolen goods which
the producers of C had been accustomed to furnish
them. The consumers of C are deprived, in their
turn, of the silk goods they were having from D.
Meanwhile, the demand continues, on the one
side for wool goods, on the other for silk. This,
then, is what will probably happen. The manu-
facturers of woolen goods in C, whom the war
has deprived of their market, will begin to pro-
duce silks, and the manufacturers of silks in D
will set about producing woolen goods. Each
nation will thus succeed in obtaining, as before
the war, the goods it needs. To be sure, the con-
ditions will be less favorable. The silks which C
will manufacture will probably be dearer änd not
so good as those with which it provided itself in
D. The wool goods which D will make will
probably be inferior to those it procured in C ;
PROTECTION.
417
but, on both sides, it will be found more advanta-
geous to employ the capital and the labor whose
market the war has cut off, than to leave them
idle; on both sides, also, people will prefer to pay
a higher price for the goods they need, than to do
Without them. The war, as we see, compels a
Change of place of certain industries, to their in-
jury. It ruins the most vigorous branches of
production, those which had been able to create
an outside market, to substitute for them artificial
industries which only the interruption of inter-
national communication can make subsist. But
peace comes in time: and the protection which the
War gave C in the manufacture of silks, and D in
the manufacture of woolen goods, at once vanishes.
It is evident that these war industries must suc-
Cumb, unless an equivalent obstacle is substituted
for the war, in order to protect them. If the con-
dition of the world is such that the peace can be
lasting, it will most assuredly be better to let them
Succumb, and thus permit production to resume its
natural place; but if war is the natural condition
of communities, if peace intervenes only as a short
truce, perhaps it will be preferable to renounce
relations whose precarious existence is a contin-
ual occasion of disastrous perturbations. Prohi-
bition will then appear as a veritable insurance
premium granted the industries to which war has
given rise, and whose maintenance it has rendered
necessary. — Thus, for example, the prohibitory
system became considerably extended in Europe
and America at the close of the continental war.
During the war the general interruption of com-
munication had led to the establishment of a cer-
tain number of industries under bad economic
conditions. When the war ceased, the manufact-
urers loudly demanded that the impediment of
prohibition be substituted for that of war, to pro-
tect them. Governments hastened to defer to their
demand. This was unquestionably a great mis-
take; for, at a time when peace has become the
normal condition of communities, prohibition is no
longer anything but a costly anachronism. In
this new situation it costs less to suffer the per-
turbations which a temporary war may cause in
international relations, than to pay a heavy war
premium for twenty or thirty years to avoid them.
However, one can conceive how the prohibitory
régime should have come to prevail to a certain
degree at the close of a war which convulsed the
world for a quarter of a century, and made com-
munities retrograde toward barbarism. On the
Other hand, it is more difficult to comprehend how
this war régime could have been extended and
made worse, as it was, long after peace had be-
come established. This is connected with certain
effects of prohibition, of which it is important to
take account.— We have spoken above of a states-
man who should establish prohibitions or protect-
ive duties as the reverse of an inventor. Let us
pursue the comparison, and we shall discover the
motives which have contributed to extend and
make more burdensome the prohibitory régime
in time of peace. Suppose that an inventor dis-
146 VOI. III. — 27
covers a process which permits a saving of 10
per cent. in the cost of production of a certain
article: by lowering the price of that article 5
per cent. he will obtain an advantage over his
competitors, and realize besides a good profit.
This profit is the difference between the saving
effected and the amount by which the price has
been lowered, and constitutes the remuneration
for the invention. Now, what takes place when a
prohibitory duty is imposed? An artificial deficit
is immediately produced in the market, and this
deficit brings about an increase in the price. A
certain article which was procured at an average
price of twenty cents, for example, can no longer
be obtained under thirty cents. This is an arti-
ficial enhancement by one-half, and is caused by
the rupture of communication between the for-
eign producers and the home consumers. Sup-
pose the prohibited article could be produced in
the country at an average price of twenty-two
cents: capital would be invested in that new in-
dustry; for it would receive, besides the ordinary
profits of other branches of production, an ex-
traordinary premium equal to eight cents. This
premium would result from the difference be-
tween the price at which the article can be pro-
duced in the country, and the artificial price
which prohibition has created. It is then mani-
fest that if the profits of invention are based on
the lowering of prices, those of prohibition are
based in just the same way on their enhancement.
—But is the extraordinary premium arising from
prohibition lasting? Must not the profits in the
protected industries finally fall to the level of
those in other branches of production, as a result
of home competition? That will depend on the
nature of the protected industry. If the indus-
try is one whose essential elements are not limited
in the country, the premium will have only a
temporary character; for new manufactories will
be established with a view of obtaining the pre-
mium as long as it shall continue. Home compe-
tition will then lower prices so much as to destroy
the premium. Sometimes even the increase of the
protected industry will not stop at its necessary
limit, and prices will suddenly fall below the ex-
penses of production. The result will be a panic,
which will swallow up a good part of the profits
from the premium which enhanced prices. Prices
will afterward rise again; but the protected in-
dustry will have ceased to realize profits greater
than those of other branches of production. Its
patent will have expired, to use an apt phrase of
Mr. Huskisson. It will be otherwise if the pro-
tected industry is not capable of unlimited exten-
sion; if it is, for example, grain culture in a coun-
try where land adapted to raising wheat is scarce,
or the production of coal, iron, or lead, in coun-
tries where mineral deposits are rare. In such
cases, the enhanced price may be obtained for any
length of time. If prohibition has increased the
price from twenty to thirty, the supply will be
sufficiently small not only to maintain this price,
but even to increase it gradually with the increase
418
PROTECTION.
of population and public wealth. Then the hold-
ers of natural protected monopolies, such as land
or mines, will see their profits increase every year;
they will continually grow rich without having to
take the least trouble. — But, whether the premi-
um which enhances prices be lasting or tempora-
ry, the allurement of that premium is sufficient,
and more than sufficient, to multiply prohibitions.
What more tempting, in fact? While money is
so difficult to win under the abominable law of
competition, here is a process discovered, by the
aid of which one can grow rich by turning over
his hand. Who would not hasten to use and
to abuse so marvelous a process? Who would
not manage to work the machine to manufacture
premiums, until the exhaustion of the material?
To be sure, these premiums can be obtained only
at the cost of the ruin or impoverishment of oth-
ers; they constitute a manifest Spoliation, a verit-
able brigandage. But does one stop for such
slight considerations when a fortune is in ques-
tion? Besides, is not this spoliation legal? Is not
this brigandage consecrated by the practice of all
civilized nations? Is it not universally admitted
that one may confiscate, by means of a simple
statute, the trade of a foreign industry, and im-
pose on the “protected nation ” an extra tax to
enhance the price, payable into the hands of the
beneficiaries of the confiscated trade? — Mean-
while, theorists are taking it into their head to
denounce so unjust and disastrous a violation of
property rights. They demand liberty of the ex-
changes, invoking justice and urging the interests
of the masses. But there is no embarrassment in
replying to these theorists. In the first place,
they are accused of propounding a theory; and,
in the eyes of many people, the accusation is
enough to condemn them. Then, Search is made
in the old arsenal of popular errors and favorite
prejudices, for all sorts of redoubtable weapons
which people use to crush so pernicious a theory.
By the same reasoning that caused inventors in
former times to be persecuted and derided, the
promoters of freedom of the exchanges are treated
as dangerous dreamers, while the Supporters of
the prohibitory régime are considered as benefact-
ors of humanity. — The list is long of the soph-
isms which have been employed to disguise the
true motives for the raising of custom house bar-
riers since the establishment of a general peace.
Often, it is true, these sophisms were employed in
good faith by persons who thought, that, by en-
riching themselves by means of the international
depredations of prohibition, they were contribut-
ing to the greatness and prosperity of their native
land. Almost always, too, ignorance of Sound
economic notions has been SO general, that the
act of profiting by premiums which raised prices
while establishing an industry contrary to nature,
was considered, even by the victims of prohibi-
tion, as a work of patriotic devotion. We do not
intend to take up all the sophisms which have
been forged to justify prohibition and glorify the
prohibitionists. This would be an endless task.
We shall confine Ourselves to a review of those
most frequently employed. — IV. Review of the
Sophisms of Protectionists. 1. That a nation should
'not allow itself to become dependent on foreign coun-
tries, especially for articles of prime necessity. This
argument was the most important of those which
were brought forward by English prohibitionists
against the free traders who advocated the repeal
of the corn laws. “Is it not,” they said, “re-
nouncing our political independence, to put our-
selves under the necessity of having recourse to
foreigners for the means of subsistence? Would
not a nation from which its enemies cut off sup.
plies be obliged to surrender at discretion?” But
what more chimerical than such an apprehen-
sion? When two nations effect exchanges, is not
the dependence which results from them mutual?
If England depends for the means of subsistence
on Russia, France and the United States, do not
these three countries in their turn depend upon
England for their supplies of iron, coal, cotton
goods, wool fabrics, etc.? Besides, even if Eng-
land should become embroiled with most of the
nations which supply her with grain, could she
not, for a small advance in price, supply the defi-
cit from other nations? Did not the gigantic folly
of the continental blockade demonstrate the im-
possibility of commercially isolating a powerful
nation? And as to a small nation, do not the
commercial relations which such a nation estab-
lishes abroad furnish it with new guarantees of
independence, by attaching to its cause all the in-
terests which it has been able to conjoin to its
Own?— One of the most brilliant Orators of the
anti-corn law league in England, Mr. W. J. Fox,
shows up with marvelous skill the superannuated
character of the argument for independence of
foreigners, in the following celebrated passage :
“Independence of foreigners,” he says, “is the
favorite theme of the aristocracy. But surely
the squire is not consistent when he exclaims
against foreign supplies. Let us examine his life.
A French cook dresses his dinner, and a Swiss
valet dresses him for his dinner. The lady
whom he hands from the drawing room, is
adorned with pearls which never grew within the
shell of a British oyster, and the feathers which
nod in her plume belonged to no barnyard fowl.
The viands of his table come from Belgium, his
wines from the Rhºne or the Rhone. His eyes are
delighted with flowers from South America, and
his nose with a leaf from North America. His
horse is Arabian, and his favorite dog of the St.
Bernard breed. His gallery is enriched with
Flemish paintings and Greek statues. Does he
seek diversion? He goes to hear Italian singers,
singing German music, all followed by a French
ballet. Does he rise to judicial honors? The er-
mine which decorates, his shoulders was never
before on the back of a British beast. His mind
even is a picnic of exotic contributions. His
philosophy and poetry come from Greece and
Rome, his geometry from Alexandria, his arithme-
tic from Arabia, and his religion from Palestine.
PROTECTION.
419
His infant teeth were pressed on coral from the
Indian ocean, and when he dies, sculptured mar-
ble from the quarries of Carrara will adorn his
tomb! And this is the man who says, ‘Let us be
independent of foreigners!’” —2. That a nation
should avoid large purchases from foreign countries,
&n order to prevent an eahaustion of its stock of
'money. Here we see the old Sophism of balance
of trade. This sophism, formerly on every one's
lips, is now much less employed, English protec-
tionists, in particular, seeming ashamed of using
it. That an argument, formerly so general,
should have become thus discredited, is due to
several causes: in the first place, to the deadly
war the economists have waged against the doc-
trine of balance of trade, then, to the decrease
in the relative importance of importations and
exportations of money in transactions between
people of different nations; finally, to experi-
ence, which successively demonstrated that the
suppression of custom house barriers between the
different provinces of France, between England
and Ireland, and between the states of the Zoll-
verein, was followed by none of the monetary
disasters predicted by the advocates of the mer-
cantile theory. However, the prejudice has not
disappeared; and so long as the laws of monetary
circulation are not commonly understood, it will
be possible to stir up the masses against freedom
of exchange, by alarming them with the phantom
of an exhaustion of the supply of money. (See
BALANCE OF TRADE.)—3. That it is necessary to
have protective duties, as a compensation for the
Staa!es imposed on home industries. If the English
protectionists made little use of the sophism about
the exhaustion of money, they made, on the other
hand, abundant use of that on compensatory duties.
“The English farmers,” they said, “bear taxes
more numerous and more severe than those of
Russian farmers. Is it not just to make compen-
sation for the difference, by a protective duty?
Is it not just to equalize the conditions of home
production with those of the foreign?” Now, in
the first place, do these differences in the figures
of the taxes always signify what they seem to
signify? It was certainly true that the English
farmers did pay more taxes than their Russian
competitors. But did they not also enjoy more
complete security and freedom? Were they not
better protected against spoliation and despotism?
and was not this greater liberty and security fully
an equivalent for the greater taxes they had to
pay? In the second place, can protection really
compensate for the burdens which excessive tax-
ation imposes on production? Protect home agri-
culture in a country like England, under the pre-
text that it is more encumbered by taxes than its
rivals, and you will doubtless provide a compen-
sation to farmers, by permitting them to increase
the price of their products. But upon whom will
fall the burden from which you have relieved
them? Upon all the other branches of produc-
tion, which will pay more dearly for their raw
materials and the means of subsistence for their
workmen. What is gained on one side is lost on
another. Unless a way can be found by which a
tax which enters the treasury can be paid by no-
body, compensatory duties can not relieve pro-
duction. Now, if they can neither destroy nor
diminish the evil necessarily connected with the
existence of every tax, of what use is it to change
the place of the evil?–4. That home labor must be
protected, to prevent the mumber of employments di-
70%ishing ºn consequence of foreign competition,
and thus to guarantee the means of subsistence to
the workmen. This sophism is worthy of notice,
because it gives prohibition the attractive appear-
ance of philanthropy. If landholders and manu-
facturers loudly demand prohibitory legislation,
it is not to realize extraordinary profits at the ex-
pense of their rivals; O no! it is only to secure
work and good wages for the workmen of their
country; it is to keep the laboring classes from
the sad results of unlimited competition, etc., etc.
But if such were the only aim of the prohibition-
ists, would they confine themselves to interdict-
ing products from abroad? Would they not pro-
hibit, above all, the importation of foreign work-
men who come into competition with their own?
Do we, however, observe that they abstain from
employing foreign workmen, even at the times
when they most energetically plead the necessity
of protecting “home labor” 2 No: they have
no scruples of this sort. There is a striking con-
tradiction between their argument and their con-
duct. (See EMIGRATION.) Now, is it true that
the prohibitory system increases the number of
places in which men can be employed, in the
country? Let us see. We have observed that
prohibitions have just the opposite effect on prices
from that produced by new machines; that by
inducing certain industries to put themselves in
bad economic conditions, and by impeding prog-
ress in division of labor, they bring about in-
crease of prices, while new machines cause re-
duced prices. Now, do machines diminish the
number of men employed in production? Does
not experience, on the contrary, attest that their
final result has been to increase it, by the general
increase of consumption? Are there not to-day,
for instance, more men employed in the cotton
industry, than there were before the steam engine
and the mule jenny had transformed that indus-
try? A man who should propose to break the
spinning machines and the looms of to-day, to
replace them by the spinning wheel and the hand
loom, in order to give more chances for employ-
ing workmen, would justly be deemed insane.
But if new machines result at last in an increase
in the number of persons employed, must not
prohibition diminish the number? If we look at
the interests of the working classes, in what re-
spect are the errors of the prohibitionists better
than those of the destroyers of machines? — By
making the cost greater, the prohibitory system
diminishes consumption, and consequently pro-
duction, and the number of opportunities for em-
ployment. This is how it protects home labor.
420
PROTECTION.
But does it not, at least, tend to give it In Ore Sta-
bility? Does it not afford security to the work-
man against industrial panics, as the prohibition-
ists affirm? or is the contrary the case? We have
already seen that the prohibitory system, by put-
ting industries at the mercy of the changing opin-
ions of legislators, has introduced a constant con-
dition of instability in all branches of production:
we have seen that tariff changes are likely to en-
gender industrial panics. Must not the dreadful
crises which have so painfully affected the sub-
sistence of workmen, be attributed to the incessant
perturbations which the prohibitory system has
occasioned in the markets? The history of mod-
ern industry gives us strange lessons on this sub-
ject. One may read on its every page of the cruel
evils which this system for “protecting national
labor” has brought upon the laboring classes.
(See PAUPERISM.)—5. That nationality should be
made the basis of the system of eachanges. This ar-
gument was the basis of Dr. List’s national system
of political economy. But in studying the history
of the formation of states, and examining into
the elements which constitute them, one readily
perceives that nationality can not serve as a basis
to a system of exchanges. States have been
formed, for the most part, by conquest, and en-
larged either by royal alliances, by wars, or by
diplomacy. No economic consideration has con-
trolled their formation. When the map of Europe
was made over at the congress of Vienna, for ex-
ample, did any one consult the interests of the in-
dustries and the commerce of the peoples whose
nationality they were changing? Did any one
ask whether the situation of the Rhine provinces
and of the other countries which were then sep-
arated from the French empire, rendered that
separation advantageous or injurious to the coun-
tries concerned? No: the question was not even
mooted. Political considerations and diplomatic
intrigues alone decided the new configuration of
the states. Why should an attempt be made to
establish a national system of exchanges based on
pretended economic necessities, in states whose
formation was controlled by no economic views,
states of which the chances of war and of alli-
ances alone decided the boundaries? Is it not the
height of absurdity to transform these boundaries,
which the hazard of events has alone determined,
and which it may enlarge or contract to-morrow,
into rational limits of the exchanges? Is not an
economic system founded on a political basis and
politically modifiable, a monstrosity which good
sense rejects?—6. If the protective system did not
ea'ist, it would perhaps be well not to ºnvent it; but
to attempt to destroy it to-day would be to promownce
a death Sentence on a multitude of industries, to
occasion ruinous displacements of capital and of
labor, etc., etc. We have pointed out above the
striking analogy between the setting up of a new
machine and the suppression of a prohibition.
The result of each is to substitute a good market
for a high-priced one, and abundance for penury.
But all progress, from whatever Source, is accom-
panied by Some disturbance. Must we renounce
a permanent advantage, to avoid this transient
disturbance? Must we give up new machines,
new methods, new ideas, under pretense that they
disturb the old machines, the old methods, the
old ideas? Shall we immobilize humanity, to
prevent Some change of employments? Let us.
hear Dr. Bowring on this subject, in his speech at
the Congress of economists, at Bruxelles, in 1847,
where he admirably refuted this paralytic objec-
tion: “The displacement of capital,” he said,
“the displacement of capital Why, it is a sign
of progress. Has not the plow displaced the
Spade? What became of the copyists after the
invention of printing? # * We formerly had
thousands of little boats on the Thames: what
has become of them, now that the Thames is fur-
rowed by hundreds of steamboats? But are not
the interests of the workman himself subserved
by so rapid and economical means of transporta-
tion? The first time I ever went to London I had
to pay four shillings to go from one part of the
city to the other: to-day I make the same trip
for six pence; and if you ask how this has been
brought about, I answer: by the displacement of
labor and capital. This displacement may be
found everywhere. I was born in a town which
figures in the commercial history of my country.
I have seen there, at Exeter, an entire industry,
the woolen industry, abandoned. I have seen, in
the port of that city, ships from all countries,
and have heard my ancestors speak of their rela-
tions with most distant lands. But as soon as
steam was introduced into manufactories, fuel
being dear in that part of the country, the indus-
try removed to where it was cheap. Well, capi-
tal was displaced; but the population has never-
theless increased. When I left Exeter the popu-
lation was 25,000 inhabitants; now it is 40,000.
The workmen have taken up other employments.
But what has displaced labor? What has dis-
placed capital? What has displaced industries?
What has put them on a false basis? What
has built upon sand? Prohibition. What, we
ask, is to found the industries on a rock which
can not be moved?”—But do the displacements
which the substitution of free exchanges for pro-
hibition may occasion, occur on So large a Scale
as has been attributed to them? Would the ad-
vent of free trade. become the signal for the ruin
of a multitude of industries? Would one see en-
tire countries deserted for others, as the prohibi-
tion pessimists affirm? Observation and experi-
ence agree in contradicting these gloomy predic-
tions. The London exposition convinced the
most prejudiced minds that the great industries
of the various countries of Europe were in a
nearly equal state of advancement, and that no
people possessed a decidedly marked superiority
over their rivals. “The crystal palace,” says
Michel Chevalier, in his interesting letters on the
London exposition, “is a good place to prove this
similarity, this fraternity, this equality of the in-
dustries of the principal nations of Western civili-
PROTECTION.
421
zation. It is manifest there, it forces itself upon
our attention. When I go from the English de-
partment to the French, thence to that occupied
by the Zollverein, or to the Swiss, or the Belgian,
or the Dutch, I find articles of nearly equal merit,
which give evidence of nearly the same aptitude
and experience, and at nearly the same prices.
This is more especially manifest in regard to Eng-
land and France, especially if we take the trouble
to complete our exhibit at London by recalling
the articles we had in Marigny Square in 1849,
of which the abused producers refused to send
specimens to London. In thus speaking of equal-
ity, I do not mean that the productions of the
principal nations are identical: on the contrary,
they are diverse, they have their peculiar stamp.
They reveal special industrial aptitudes, a distinct
originality, but they manifest a nearly equal de-
gree of advancement. If one is surpassed in one
kind of articles, it is first in another, perhaps
similar and equally difficult: and we can not
doubt, that, with a little incentive, each nation
could equal the one which excels it in any par-
ticular product. If prime materials were equally
cheap everywhere (and they would be if the leg-
islators of certain countries would abolish the
wholly artificial causes of high prices which it
has pleased them to multiply), the expense at
which the manufactured articles could be pro-
duced would be nearly the same, and the several
countries would have markets about equally low
priced.”— A well-known French manufacturer,
Jean Dolfus, corroborated the statements of Chev-
alier, and showed how the prohibitory régime
had resulted in preventing the cotton industry
in France from adopting improvements in ma-
chinery. “We do not,” he says, “keep pace
with England in industrial progress. Ten years
ago they commenced there to substitute machines
which twist the thread on the pirn without the aid
of a workman for the old spinning machines: to-
day, for certain numbers, no other machines exist.
All have been obliged to adopt the improvement.
With us, on the contrary, people still make money
while using very antiquated machines; and the
sum appropriated to compensate for the annual
depreciations, at least in the spinning of cotton,
is scarcely necessary, for it is not generally em-
ployed to improve the machines. Why have
not the improvements adopted in England be-
come necessary in France? Because all remain in
the old way, and continue to make spun goods
that could be manufactured at much less expense,
by a little additional outlay. My house has a
spinning mill of 25,000 spindles, 20,000 of which
are for calico; it could, by replacing its looms, a
part of which are nearly forty years old, spin a
kilogramme twenty centimes cheaper than it does
to-day: but home competition is not sufficient to
compel them to do it. Is not this conclusive?
Who pays the twenty centimes? The consumer,
the country. The committee for the protection of
national labor did not think it best to change our
looms, because many spinners might thus be
thrown out of employment. But can we with
impunity resist progress thus? On this principle
we should return to the spinning wheel, and regret
all the mechanical progress realized for the last
fifty years. If spinning can be done more eco-
nomically, consumption will increase; more cotton
goods will be sold, more machines will be con-
structed, and more labor will be needed.” (See
the corroborative testimony of D. A. Wells, when
a special tariff commissioner of the United States
government, showing how the protective tariff has
operated in the United States to keep in use in-
ferior machines long since discarded in England.
—E. J. L.) — Thus, in the view of manufactur-
ers themselves, the prohibitory régime retards
production. Let this régime be abolished, and
every industry which is located under favorable
natural conditions will inevitably become consid-
erably extended. It will doubtless then be neces-
sary to exercise more intelligence, activity and
energy, in order to preserve and increase one's
trade; for freedom of exchange is not so easy a
couch as prohibition. Every industry would be
at once obliged to employ every new improvement
to keep up with its rivals. But would not human-
ity as a whole profit by the great impulse produc-
tion would have received? Would not people be
more abundantly provided with all things, and
their minds, kept active by necessity, become more
accessible to light? Necessity is a powerful in-
centive to progress, and the chief result of free-
dom of exchange will be to render progress more
and more necessary. Look, for example, at Brit-
ish agriculture. How many times the prohibi-
tionists had predicted that it could not endure the
competition of the United States, Poland and Rus-
sia! How many times they had depicted its fields
devastated, its laborers ruined and dispersed, by
the storm of free trade, and old England, deprived
of this main-stay of her power, disappearing from
the list of nations! Well, the corn laws have been
abolished, free trade is enthroned, and what has
become of British agriculture? Has it sunk in the
storm? Has its capital been destroyed, and its
fields submerged by the “deluge of foreign grain”?
Have proprietors and farmers carried into effect
their threat to emigrate to America, abandoning
their fields to the thorn and the briar? No. Scarce-
ly had the corn laws been repealed, when the agri-
culturists, redoubling their efforts, made improve-
ment the order of the day on every hand. The
old instruments and the old methods were aban-
doned; and agriculture, so long given over to
routine, took rank among the most progressive
industries. Thus transformed under the strong
pressure of foreign competition, it now laughs at
the phantom which formerly gave it apprehension.
And this was an industry which was to be infal-
libly ruined by free trade 1 — Observing, then, as
Chevalier and Blanqui did at the universal exposi-
tion at London, the condition of the industries of
the civilized world, and investigating carefully
the results already obtained by tariff reforms, one
becomes convinced that the ruinous displace-
422
PROTECTION,
ments of production, the destruction of protected
industries, and so many other calamities, which,
according to the prohibitionists, were inevitably to
accompany the advent of liberty of the exchanges,
were vain phantoms. One also acquires the con-
viction that the adoption of free trade would
strengthen and develop industries, instead of com-
promising and ruining them. — Here we terminate
our review of the sophisms of the prohibitionists,
although the subject is far from exhausted. But
these unsound arguments have been refuted by all
the economists in succession since Adam Smith
and Turgot. An especially lively and Satirical
refutation of them will be found in Bastiat's Soph-
Žsmes Economiques, to which we refer our readers.
— W. Conclusion. Freedom of exchanges tends
to produce a cheaper market and to favor stability.
Should it become permanently established, the
industries, having no restriction as to market,
would have all the development of which they are
capable. At the same time they would acquire a
maximum of stability, by ceasing to be based on a
precarious foundation. To the high prices and
instability inherent in the artificial régime, would
succeed a return to the order instituted by Provi-
dence. Now, is it chimerical to count on progress
so beneficent? Is free trade an economic ideal
which we are interdicted from attaining? Is it a
pure utopia, a humanitarian dream, as the de-
fenders of prohibition affirm? Observe the signs
of the times, and then reply. Is not one of the
most absorbing interests of our time, the improve-
ment of means of intercommunication? Are not
all civilized nations multiplying railroads, electric
telegraphs, and other means of intercourse? Are
not steam and electricity having a constantly in-
creasing effect in diminishing the natural obstacle
of distance? Now, what is the economic result
of all this? It is to extend the sphere of the
exchanges. Railroads, steamboats, electric tele-
graphs, are powerful instruments in destroying
distance, to the profit of the exchanges from city
to city, and from people to people. But lo! while
nations are imposing on themselves gigantic Sacri-
fices to multiply the ways which facilitate the ex-
changes, they are, on the other hand, maintaining
the prohibitory system, which interrupts them
They would stimulate exchange with one hand,
and cut it off with the other! Such a flagrant
contradiction must eventually impress all minds.
Bither steam locomotion and the electric telegraph
must be abandoned, or else the prohibitory system
must fall; for the simultaneous existence of these
agents of civilization and of this relic of barbarism
is absurd. But there is small likelihood that
steam locomotion and the electric telegraph will
be abandoned. The prohibitory régime, however,
has received severe blows. Governments have
finally perceived that prohibitory duties brought
them nothing, and that it would be an excellent
operation to substitute for them revenue taxes.
Sir Robert Peel took this position as the starting
point of his financial policy, and the budget of
Great Britain, whose accounts showed a continual
deficit before the reforms of Peel, afterward pre-
sented a regular surplus revenue. A similar re-
form in the United States gave like results in 1851.
Under reduced tariff duties, exports doubled, and
the revenue was increased $50,000,000. Financial
necessities thus combine with economic necessi-
ties and the progressive tendencies of our age, to
put an end to the prohibitory régime. Prohi-
bitions may be compared to the chains which were
used in the middle ages to bar the streets. In our
day they are a vestige of a system of defense
which the progress of civilization has rendered
useless and superannuated. Before long, we trust,
the frontiers will cease to be barred, as the streets
have ceased to be so; and, despite those utopists
whose ideal is in the past, liberty will at last
become the law in human affairs. — BIBLIOGRA-
PHY. Adam Smith, Wealth of Nations, book iv.,
chaps. iv. and V., Restraints on the importation
from foreign countries of such goods as can be pro-
duced at home—also chaps. iv. and v., On draw-
backs and bounties; J. B. Say, Political Economy,
chap. xvii., The effect of government regulations
intended to influence production, (trans. from the
French), Philadelphia, 1832 and 1850; Jas. Mill,
Blements of Political Economy, chap. iii., seó. 17,
Bounties and prohibitions, 2d ed., London, 1824;
J. A. Blanqui, History of Political Economy, chaps.
xvi., xx. and xxix., Results of free trade in the
Hanse towns, in Venice, and in Holland — Con-
trasting policy of Chas. .V. given in chap. xxi.,
(trans.), New York, 1880; Wm. Roscher, Political
Economy, app. iii., sec. i , The industrial protect-
ive system and international free trade, (trans.),
New York, 1878; Amasa Walker, The Science of
|Wealth, chaps. ii. and iii., Obstructions to trade,
fallacies of the protective theory, 7th rev. ed.,
Boston, 1874; W. G.' Summer, History of Protec-
tion in the United States, New York, 1877; J. E.
Cairnes, Leading Principles of Political Economy,
mewly earpounded, part iii., chap. iv., Free trade
and protection, New York, 1874; A. L. Perry,
Elements of Political Economy, chap. xiii., Foreign
trade and the mercantile system—also chap. xv.,
On American tariffs, New York, 1866 and 1873;
F. A. Walker, Political Economy, part vi., chap.
xiii., Protection vs. Freedom of production, New
York, 1883; J. S. Mill, Some Unsettled Questions
of Political Economy, chap. i., The laws of inter-
change between nations, 3d ed., London, 1877;
John McDonell, Survey of Political Economy, chap.
xxviii., Protectionism, Edinburgh, 1871; Edmund
About, Handbook of Social Economy, chap. vi.,
Liberty, (trans. from the French), New York,
1873; Frédéric Bastiat, Sophisms of Protection,
(trans.), New York, 1877, 12mo, 397 pp.; S. S.
Cox, Free Land and Free Trade, 16mo, 126 pp.,
New York, 1880; Henry Fawcett, Free Trade and
Protection, 12mo, 173 pp., London, 1878; W. F.
Marriott, Grammar of Political Economy, chap.
xxv., Free trade and protection, London, 1874;
Emil Walter, What is Free Trade # 12mo, 158 pp.,
New York, 1867. To the above list may be added
the following popular tracts, which, with others,
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
423
are circulated by the New York FreeTrade Club:
David A. Wells, The Creed of Free Trade, 8vo, 21
pp., New York, 1875–The Results of Protection in
the United States, 12mo, 31 pp., 1873—How Com-
gress and the Public deal with a great Revenue and
Industrial Problem, 8vo, 26 pp., New York, 1880
—Freer Thrade essential to Future Wational Pros-
perity and Development, 51 pp., New York, 1882
— Why we Trade, and How we Trade, 8vo, New
York; Abraham L. Earle, Our Revenue System,
and Civil Service, 8vo, 47 pp., New York, 1878;
Abram S. Hewitt, Labor, Wages, and the Tariff,
Speech in House of Representatives, March 30,
1882; S. S. Cox, Reciprocal Brigandage of the
Tariff, Speech in House of Representatives, May,
1882; E. P. Wheeler, Crude Materials, Testimony
before Tariff Commission, July, 1882, 19 pp.; J.
B. Sargent, (a New Haven, Conn., manufacturer),
Reduction of Duties, Testimony before Tariff Com-
mission, Aug., 1882; J. Schoenhoff, The Tariff on
Wool and Woolens, 14 pp., New York, 1883; W.
G. Sumner, Protection and Revenue in 1877; Gra-
ham McAdam, The Protective System : What it
costs the American Farmer, 37 pp., New York,
1880—What is Free Trade? 3 pp.—The Tariff in
American Politics, 3 pp.—Protection and Wages,
H. J. Philpott, Free Trade vs. Protection; Horace
White, The Tariff Question; E. J. Donnell, Slav-
ery and Protection, 69 pp., New York, 1882—The
Impending Crisis, 32 pp.; Review of the Tariff
Commission Report, by the Ex. Com. of Brooklyn
Revenue Reform Club, New York, 1882; Free
Trade the best Protection to American Industry,
(12 tracts, of one page each), New York, 1883;
The Tariff Question: A few questions to intelli-
gent voters, one page ; Thos. G. Shearman, Free
Trade the Only Road to Manufacturing Prosperity
and High Wages, 22 pp., New York, 1883. Of
protectionist writers, Henry C. Carey, of Phila-
delphia, has been the most noted. His Principles
of Social Science, (3 vols., Phila., 1858), give an
exposition of his views on this subject. Prof.
Francis Bowen, of Harvard College, in his Amer-
Øcan Political Economy, chap. xx., treats of the
doctrine of international exchanges, and the lim-
its of free trade and the protective system. Geo.
M. Weston, of New York, has also well presented
the arguments of protectionists in his Refutation
of Some Current Errors in Respect to Foreign Com-
merce, (8vo, 33 pp., Cambridge, Mass., 1883), an
argument read before the tariff commission.
E. J. L., Th". . G. DE MOLINARI.
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
UNITED STATESTARIFF. Imposition of duties on
imports from foreign countries for the encourage-
ment, promotion and defense of native industry.
The fundamental principle which justifies this
practice, and makes it needful, is found in the
fact that protection, in the broadest acceptance of
the term, is not only the sole function of govern-
ment, but the primal object sought in establishing
its authority. Although God has constituted man
a social being, so that the race is everywhere and
always in communities, yet man's nature is such
that his emotions, which centre upon himself, are
very much stronger than his sympathies, which
go out toward his fellow-creatures; in other words,
“he feels more intensely what affects him directly
than what affects him indirectly through others.”
In all the elements of reality and importance
his own pains, aches, troubles, plans, desires,
appear to his mind far superior to those of other
people. Consequently, every person has a higher
regard for what he conceives to be his own safety,
or his own welfare, or his own happiness, than he
has for the Safety, welfare and happiness of others,
and, when these come in opposition, is ready to
sacrifice the interests of others to his own. Out
of this constitution of man’s nature arises in so-
ciety a universal tendency to strife between indi-
viduals, leading, unless prevented, to wrongs,
oppressions and crimes of every sort. Restraint
thus becomes indispensable for the preservation
and for the advancement of society. That re-
straint invariably takes the form of government,
which is found, of some description, wherever
there is a community, either civilized, barbarous
or Savage. The sole purpose of instituting gov-
ernment is, therefore, to obtain and secure pro-
tection. All the functions of government, legis-
lative, judicial, executive, and whatever, in all
their branches and acts, resolve themselves into
this—to protect the rights of person and property.
Moreover, the human race is divided into nations,
and these are as different, in their conditions, re-
sources, interests, capacities, motives, as individ-
uals are, with equal tendency to clash, and to
encroachment one upon another. For instance,
England has for her object to manufacture for
the world, to monopolize the bulk of reproductive
power, to keep all lands, especially her own Colo-
nies, in a state of industrial infancy and vassalage,
by political management as well as by the Superi-
ority of her capital, by her cheap labor, by her
skill, and by her navy and her mercantile marine.
Her policy is to have other countries compete in
her home market for the sale of their raw mate-
rials, to the end that she may be enabled to fix
the prices of what she buys; and to have other
countries compete in her home market for the
purchase of her finished products, to the end that
she may be enabled to fix the prices of what she
sells, thus becoming mistress of the globe. These
aims require that England shall be aggressive and
overmastering; hence her trade system first looks
outwardly, and hinges largely upon external cir-
cumstances. On the contrary, the United States
has for its object to bring into harmonious pro-
portion and development, within its own bound-
aries, the four great branches of industry—
agriculture, manufacturing, commerce and trans-
portation—without which national life can not
attain to the highest degree of excellence, because
the history of growing civilization is a history of
a long, tedious, painful progress from a condition
in which occupations are few to a condition in
which they are many. Our republic has for its
424.
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
object, further, to be free, independent, powerful,
but to let every other country enjoy its freedom,
independence and power, in its own way; hence
our trade system first looks inwardly, and hinges
largely upon internal circumstances. These ex-
tremes in method of aggrandizement involve all
the intermediary differences which distinguish
the commercial policy of other nations. Now,
the same constitution of man’s nature which leads
to conflict between individuals in society, leads
also to conflict between political communities un-
der different governments, and renders it needful
to defend the industrial interests of each against
aggression and encroachment from all the others.
The United States, as a distinct aggregate of per-
sons, possessing common government, common
laws, institutions and interests, common history
and destiny, constituting one body politic, free
and independent, can provide common defense
and security of the rights, property and lives of its |
subject to control by internal forces.
citizens, only by following the dictates of self-
protection, in order to create the greatest amount
of common welfare within, and the greatest
amount of safety against danger from without.
Just as it would be foolish in congress to refuse
to have an army, or a navy, or forts, or a military
academy, on the plea that mankind would be bet-
ter off if there was no war, so it would be foolish
in congress to refuse to have protective duties on
imports, on the plea, that, in a perfect but entirely
imaginary state of the human race, foreign free
trade would be beneficial to all. It is not the aim
of protection to supply the wants and regulate the
exchanges of supposititious communities, purified
from the vices, villainies, propensities and ills
which vex ordinary humanity; purged of merce-
nary tradesmen, gainful arts and counterfeit hon-
esty; freed of greediness in getting and tenacity
in keeping, whether it be wealth or authority;
devoid of withering competition, down-trodden
laborers, and hunger-pinched wretchedness; but,
on the contrary, to provide man with what he re-
quires while he continues in society as it is, recog-
nizing the facts, that individual selfishness pre-
dominates over individual benevolence; that the
strong, unless restrained, will not respect the
rights of the weak; that he who plants a sugar
estate, dykes a rice plantation, sows a field, erects
a factory, or constructs a ship, needs the firm
basis of the laws and institutions of his country
to depend upon, as much as he who builds a
house needs a solid foundation; that the great ele-
mentary object of organizing government, and of
conducting legislation under its constitution or
form, is to shield property, foster useful indus-
try, and promote the general welfare; and that
nations often may and do have interests as antag-
onistic as those of persons, making it necessary to
provide for the defense of each against the cupid-
ity, over-reaching or encroachment of the rest,
manifested either in positive ways or through in-
direction. — PRINCIPLES AND FACTS. 1. Freedom
within, but restraint without, the American rule. —
Every analogy of nature supports the policy of
free exchange between the inhabitants of a coun-
try, while it is denied between that and other
countries. For instance, there is free exchange
between the different members of the human body;
and it would be the extreme of folly, for it would
be death, to protect the kidneys or the lungs from
the blood, or the stomach from the liver; yet, it is
highly proper and beneficial to protect all these
organs, by suitable clothing, from aggressive, in-
jurious outside influences, and to protect that
human body, as a united whole, against encroach-
ment from some other human body. So it is with
the body politic. Free exchange between its vari-
ous parts is essential to its healthy development,
and even to its existence; but protection is needed
against aggression and encroachment from foreign
bodies politic. This internal free trade rests upon
the broad foundation of a community of reciproc-
ities or equalities. Whatever there may be of
clash between home interests is minimized, and is
There is
one contiguous territory, One national language,
one central government, one patriotic allegiance,
one kind of political institutions, one code of laws,
one set of civil obligations, one habit of manners
and customs, one standard of societary excellence,
one tendency of public opinion. United under
one flag, associated under one general authority,
and combined into one organism, the people have
rights, duties, privileges, benefits, advantages,
prospects, interests, which can not be safely
shared with any other people. This homogene-
ous condition is what makes free trade both
permissible and beneficent within the borders of
each distinct nationality, as, for instance, be-
tween the several parts of the United States. It
is the lack of a concurrent homogeneousness Out-
side of those boundaries which causes foreign free
trade to be dangerous. Producers and traders in
other countries are not subject to our laws, nor
amenable to the processes of our courts, nor obli-
gated to serve upon our juries, nor liable to be
drafted into our armies, nor bound to contribute
to our internal taxes, nor answerable for non-
performance of any of the duties of American
citizenship. They are total aliens to our national
commonwealth. To permit them to sell their
merchandise in our home markets, free of all tar-
iff charge, free of all local burdens, free of all
allegiance to our government, would be to exalt
perfect strangers above the heads of its own
patriotic people in privilege. The foreigner, abid-
ing in a distant land, and often hostile at heart
to our free institutions, has no right to ask to be
placed on a dead level of commercial benefits
with our citizens, who have a round of local bur-
dens incident to those institutions—burdens from
which he is exempt. It has cost a vast amount of
sacrifice, an immense aggregate of exertion, and
an incalculable investment of Capital, On the part
of our population, through a number of genera-
tions, to transform a perfect wilderness into the
most opulent and the most desirable of the world's
markets. Why should the total alien, without any
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
425
participation in developing our resources, without
sharing in the support of our government, without
a personal stake in the welfare of our Union, be
allowed to be an exceptionally favored beneficiary
of all that toil and effort 2 There is no way in
which he can be compelled to compensate our na-
tionality for the high privilege of admission to
our domestic markets except through duties on
imports. Only by the imposition of such charges,
made adequate to the purpose, Can the unequal
conditions of competition be equalized between
the alien and the citizen, meeting as rivals in trade
upon our soil. — 2. Difference between European
and American protection. The utmost freedom
compatible with liberty regulated by law presides
over the internal affairs of the United States. Not
only to commodities, but also to land, to political
franchises, to education, to religion, to speech,
and to whatever else, is applied this principle of
equal unrestraint. Here, then, is found in com-
pletest operation the great natural law of all Or-
ganized existence, which requires free exchange
within, while demanding protection against with-
out. Defensive duties on imports are thus ena-
bled to promote the welfare of the whole commu-
nity. It is not so in Europe, where restriction,
of one kind or another, represses local freedom,
as the octrol charges in France, the land monopoly
in England, the autocratic method in Russia, and,
generally, the grudging limitation of Suffrage.
Consequently, it is European capitalists, not Eu-
ropean laborers, who reap the solid benefits of
protective duties. In this country, the laborer is
the chief beneficiary. This is the fundamental
difference between tariff protection in Europesand
in the United States. – 3. Weed of diversified ºn-
dustry. The civilization of every community is
necessarily graduated by its individual and col-
lective power to command the services of nature;
the degree to which industry is diversified among
any people affords the surest test of their ability
to call the governing forces of matter to their aid;
variety in the pursuits of society is not a condi-
tion which originates spontaneously the moment
there is room for it, and to the extent that sur-
rounding circumstances will permit, but results
either from the pressure of population upon the
means of subsistence, or from the stimulus of arti-
ficial encouragement. To complete the develop-
ment of man’s power over the forces of matter,
no single kind of labor will suffice, either agri-
cultural, mechanic, scientific, or manufacturing.
Cultivation of the ground subdues the earth only
as regards its vegetative properties, and its highest
excellence depends upon assistance rendered by
the whole circle of the sciences and the arts. Use
of the principles involved in the lever, the wheel
and axle, the pulley, the inclined plane, the wedge
and the screw, while pre-eminently the conquest
of mind over matter, commands the Services of
only one section of the material forces. Delving
for ores merely develops for subsequent operations
certain products which nature has gratuitously
provided in her stupendous laboratory. System-
atizing knowledge, although highly promotive of
utilitarian results, does little more than set up
finger-boards to point out to workers the paths
they must follow in accomplishing their task of
converting the properties of natural objects into
useful and obedient servants. Manufacturing is
limited to the arts of reproduction—to changing
the condition, shape, arrangement, combination,
uses and values of metallic particles, vegetable
fibres, and other raw materials. A widespread
association of these integral elements of national
development is requisite to advance any people to
a high position among political communities of
modern times. Diversified industry thus lies at
the base of all normal progress. The more intel-
ligent, skilled, experienced, productive, prosper-
ous it is, the better for the inhabitants and for the
state, and higher and nobler will be the attendant
civilization. Hence the interests of labor and of
the laborer should be the chief concern of states-
manship ; for whatever shackles, Cripples, under-
mines or prostrates them is retrogressive in tend.
ency and force, and strongly detrimental to
society. Upon the place in the governmental
structure assigned to the industrial element de-
pends the value of the resulting civil and political
institutions. In the work of bringing the forces
of matter under the control of man, diversified
pursuits march hand in hand, evermore co-operat-
ing to produce and hasten the same general attain-
ment. Acting together, they assault nature in
her strongholds, and wrest from her possession
her most treasured secrets, and explanation of her
most occult processes. At every step of this con-
certed movement, knowledge acquires some new
insight into the laws which govern the material
world, resulting in augmented ability to use them
for practical ends. Thus, so long as science main-
tained that earth, air, fire and water were element-
ary substances, it was impossible to find out that
the rusting of metals, the formation of acids, the
burning of inflammable bodies, the breathing of
animals, and the growth of plants by night, in-
volve the same operation : or that the diamond
embodies, under dissimilar conditions, the same
substance as charcoal or graphite; or that water
is composed of two gases, one of which is the
great feeder of combustion. What amazing ac-
complishments have arisen from, and what grand
possibilities are presented by, the chemical demon-
stration that the chief constituents of all organic
matter are carbon, Oxygen, nitrogen and hydrogen,
three of which are gaseous. So long as the nature
of electrical phenomena was a sealed book, the
invention of the magnetic telegraph was imprac-
ticable. What mighty utilitarian results and civ-
ilizing influences have grown out of this conquest
of mind over matter, bringing two continents, al-
though three thousand miles apart, into instant
communication. How meagre would be the ac-
complishments of bleachers and dyers, were it not
for the discoveries of chemistry. How could car.
penters and masons safely and correctly estimate
the strength of timbers, of walls, of arches, but
426
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
for the investigations which have been made in me-
chanical philosophy 2 How would it be possible
for workers in metals to produce the wonderful
results they do, were it not for the accumulated
knowledge about the nature of those substances,
and about their relations to both heat and other
metals, and the airs and liquids with which they
come in contact? The improvements of the steam
engine by Watt resulted from the most learned
inquiry into mathematical, mechanical and chem-
ical truths. Indeed, although a man be neither
artisan nor farmer, but only one who has a pot
to boil, he is indebted to inventive genius, and to
discovered principles which govern matter, for
power to cook his morsel better, and to both vary
and improve his dish. The art of good and
cheap cookery—an art never found separate from
a high state of civilization—embodies the applica-
tion of natural laws, which neither would have
been brought to light nor devoted to practical
purposes by a community of hunters, or of shep-
herds, or of farmers. Among such peoples little
exists to stimulate observation and arouse inquiry
as regards the secret workings of nature. But
diversified industry is everywhere seen to be the
faithful parent of utilitarian investigations, philo-
sophical experiments, scientific discoveries, me-
chanical development, inventive ingenuity, and
serviceable improvements. Its peculiar province
is to enlarge the sphere of mental activity, creating
a demand for, and calling into exercise, the latent
powers of intellect ; to make men more expert,
skillful and useful in the various kinds of work
by which they are to earn their daily bread; and
to supply those cogent instrumentalities by which
they are enabled to make it go far, and taste well,
when earned. Agriculture, science, invention,
mining, manufactures, the mechanic arts, trans-
portation, commerce, esthetics, therefore, all are
factors in the solution of one stupendous prob-
lem—the universal emancipation of mankind from
the thralldom of nature. Whatever reinforces one,
reinforces all; whatever is detrimental to one, is
detrimental to all. —4. Correlation of industries
and human faculties. The protective principle,
when established in full operation, secures a diver-
sity of employments suited to the diversified in-
clinations and aptitudes of the people. Every
body politic, like every human body, is necessi-
tated, by virtue of its existence and nature, as a sep-
arate and distinct Organism, to seek first and pref-
erentially its own safety, welfare, happiness, de-
velopment, strength and excellence. These qual-
ities, however, are nationally manifested largely or
scantily according as they exist largely or scantily
in the individuals who compose the nation. God
has so constituted Society that there must ever be
among its members wide differences of natural
force, talent, appetency and will, unlike capaci-
ties, aptitudes, capabilities, endowments, prefer-
ences, longings; wholly dissimilar powers of body
and of mind. This great diversity in human fac-
ulties requires an equally great diversity in human
occupations. He who makes a very indifferent
farmer, might excel as a machinist. He who is
considered a failure as a carpenter, might achieve
reputation as a musician. He who is a bungler
as a Shoemaker, might win applause and wealth as
an actor. He who fails as a merchant, might
Succeed as an inventor. A sailor, a locksmith, a
bank clerk and a dancer could not exchange func-
tions. Each person is specially qualified for some
One pursuit in life, and less suited for all the rest.
If he can not acquire that pursuit and devote to
it his labors, there must be a waste of his highest
endowment. Its usefulness is lost to the com-
munity in which he resides, and to the nation of
which he is a unit. When this sort of waste is so
general as to embrace a considerable part of the
population, the national power must be very far
less than it would be with full exercise of the idle
adaptabilities. Hence the imperative need of such
a policy of government as will insure the diversity
of Occupations requisite to employ the diversity of
capacities. – An invincible objection to a system
of free trade between this and other countries is,
that it would operate with increasing tendency to
minimize the number of distinct vocations among
our people, and thereby dwarf our national vigor
and importance through waste of human aptitudes.
In a community where agriculture is the sole occu-
pation, there is very little opportunity to develop
and employ the mind in the direction of its best
faculties. Although a man might be pre-eminently
fitted by nature to be a chemist, and although a
knowledge of chemistry is essential to a scientific
cultivation of the soil, what means or incentive to
that end exists in a rural region, where everybody’s
chief talk is about the crops and the weather?
What likelihood is there, in a purely agricultural
country, that many of the rising generation will
choose, in preference to the calling of the father,
to become architects, bookbinders, confectioners,
foundrymen, gunsmiths, jewelers, miners, print-
ers, weavers, and so on through the whole round
of skilled employments? Certainly there is noth-
ing in the every-day life and surroundings of such
a community to call forth the latent capacity for
any of these vocations which may exist in the
minds of its members. Under such circumstances
thousands may continue, to the end of their days,
without once suspecting that they possess facul-
ties which need only to be properly cultivated to
give them eminence and usefulness in some trade
or profession of which they have, perhaps, never
even heard the name. Only where industry is
greatly diversified can there be a field of oppor-
tunity sufficiently comprehensive to permit a man's
own instincts to choose the pursuit which most en-
lists inclination, gives it functional exercise, and en-
gages its steady perseverance. Then production,
whether mental or material, is largest in quantity
and highest in quality, because then each partic-
ular endowment is occupied with its appropriate
work, and available for its utmost contribution to
the aggregate result. Individual and national
wealth augments very rapidly when such condi-
tions exist in a country, and its government is
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
427
rendered powerful and efficient by the symmetri-
cal arrangement and advantageous application of
the capacities of its citizens. All this is promoted
by the atmosphere of intellectual freedom in which
the people live, where there is suitable employ-
ment for physical strength, for manual skill and
dexterity, for inventive genius, for the active and
the sedentary, for childhood as well as youth and
mature age, nay, even for decrepitude. A people
SO situated develop the better part of their natures,
grow intelligent and exceedingly enterprising,
enjoy the maximum of general prosperity, soon
understand and respect one another's rights, and
become imbued with intense patriotism. — In the
United States, where the recognized and approved
Standard of comfort among the masses requires an
expenditure beyond the reach of the earnings of
the masses in any other country, diversity of in-
dustry could neither be created nor maintained
under a system of foreign free trade. The conse-
quent invasion of manufactures from Europe, dis-
placing our own, would be as destructive to our
varied arts as the invasion of the Goths and Wan-
dals was to the Roman empire. Hence protec-
tion, in the form of defensive duties on imports,
is necessary to secure to our people those indus-
trial conditions which are the most potent of all
the auxiliaries of civilization, and without which
its fullest development can not be achieved. — 5.
The rights of labor. Labor is the greatest part of
the capital of every country, because all wealth
proceeds originally from production, and all pro-
ductiou proceeds from labor. Dven the earth,
with its prodigious resources, and man himself,
are the products of labor—of God’s labor—furnish-
ing the basis of all production by the human race.
No One can apply his hand or point his finger to
an object regarded as capital which is not the
result of labor. Whatever exists anywhere under
the name of property is the representative of pre-
vious labor. So, too, of things not commodities.
Government and laws; civil, social and religious
institutions; the entire and comprehensive forms
and values of human society, are all, severally and
collectively, the outcome of human labor.
brief, whatever is has been produced. Produc-
tion is the sole function of labor, either bodily or
mental. But labor's productiveness is dependent
upon its ability to find instant and appropriate ex-
ercise for labor's function. This moment’s power
to produce must be utilized this moment. Yes-
terday's power to produce, unless employed yes-
terday, must remain forever inoperative. Oppor-
tunity to use its potential energies thus becomes
absolutely necessary to enable labor to be efficient
and copious in production. To the extent that
opportunity is absent or neglected, production
must be prevented, and to the same extent
Supply be less for consumption and accumula-
tion. Whatever promotes the activity of labor
stimulates, therefore, the growth of individual
and national wealth; and whatever slackens that
activity retards that growth. The inevitable in-
ference is, that government owes to society the
In
Obligation of shaping legislation so as to secure to
labor every practicable advantage for the exercise
of its productivº capacity. Labor thus consti-
tutes the creative force of all betterments which
are essential to communities of man. Upon it
depend even life, liberty and happiness. Because
the multitudinous interests of society are to labor
what the Superstructure is to the foundation, la-
bor has the first and highest right to full protec-
tion. As, in the present stage of civilization, the
bulk of labor is unable to produce with profit un-
less its Services are hired, its needed protection
Consists in what will insure steady employment and
Jair ºpages. – But these essentials can not be made
Safe to labor in the United States when it is unde-
fended against excessive competition from foreign
countries. This is why : It has been estimated,
after careful inquiries, that, on an average, about
four-fifths of the cost value of manufactured ar-
ticles consists of labor alone. Perhaps the prob-
lem is too complex to permit the ascertainment of
the exact proportion, and the answer which would
be correct at one date might not fit the conditions
at a Subsequent date; but it is unquestionable
that the ratio must be very large. To illustrate
the case, take a steel rail. There is labor in the
Ore, labor in the coal or coke, labor in the lime-
stone, labor in the transportation requisite to bring
these elements together at the furnace, labor in
the pig iron, labor in the spiegeleisen, and labor
in the finished rail, besides the labor which origi-
nally produced the capital invested in the several
mines, investcq in the furnaces, invested in the
railroads or shipping, and invested in the rolling-
mill grounds, buildings, machinery and patents.
This aggregate of labor value in the final product
can leave only a small fraction of the whole to
represent the raw materials of the manufacture,
gratuitously furnished by nature. Since human
labor thus contributes the bulk of the commercial
value of commodities, it is clear that the selling
price must be determined generally by the rate of
pay for labor's services. If this rate be so un-
fairly low as to amount to only subsistence wages,
then evidently the products of labor so paid, will
be able to undersell the products of labor paid
comfort wages, except when the latter possess
countervailing advantages, such as more and bet-
ter labor-saving machinery, or more operative
processes. Now, it is known that wages in Great
Britain are about one-half, and on the continent
of Europe about one-third, on an average, of what
are paid in the United States. If the products of
such scantily paid labor should come, without
let or hindrance, into this country, they would
necessarily be able to undersell the products of
Our highly paid labor, doing great wrong and dis-
tressful injury to our industrious and patriotic .
people, who need to be secured against this en-
croachment upon their rights and the consequent
damage. Protection to our labor, to be adequate,
must therefore have respect to the difference in
the joint cost, price or value of money and labor
in the United States and in the countries with
428
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
which we trade. In no other way than by defen-
sive duties on imports can this difference be off-
set. The very object of a protective tariff is to
equalize between this and foreign nations existing
inequalities in the cost of production and in the
power of competition. These paramount consid-
erations render such a tariff both justifiable and
necessary. To illustrate this position, take a sin-
gle interest. Iron and steel, with their various
forms of reproduction, being admitted, let us sup-
pose, free of duties, or under entry charges low
enough to avoid protection, our home producers
would be unable, generally speaking, to carry on
their business except at a loss, and, sooner or later,
would be compelled to succumb before an out-
rivaling competition, reinforced by the whole
strength of our national legislation. In that case,
what would become of the numerous laborers
who had found remunerative employment in those
various industries? What would become of the
miners, and of the miners’ children; of the fur-
nacemen, and of the furnacemen's children; of
the forgemen, and of the forgemen’s children; of
the moulders, and of the moulders' children; of
the rolling-mill hands, and of the machinists, and
of the engineers, and of the mechanics; of the
men engaged in the allied and dependent arts and
trades; in brief, of the entire body of persons who
can earn a comfortable livelihood because coal
and ores are mined, furnaces in blast, foundries in
operation, iron-works busy, machine-shops crowd-
ed with orders, rolling-mills run to their fullest ca-
pacity, and factories prosperous?
ing the protection of our tariff laws from our do-
mestic industries in general, what would become
of the multitude of men and women who work in
brass, copper, lead, zinc, tin, nickel, stone, glass,
wood, leather, silk, paper, cotton, wool, and other
materials? What would become of the local de-
velopment created and continued in existence by
their labors? What would become of the vast
amount of capital invested in those diversified
pursuits? What would become of the immense
aggregate of machinery and of buildings provided
at enormous expense to carry on special opera-
tions which would have to cease? What would
become of the traders and the transporters who
thrived on the patronage which so much produc-
tion had afforded? Who but the government, re-
missin its obligation to protect the rights of labor
and of property, would have to be held responsi-
ble for the widespread and heavy decline in the
prices of real estate which would necessarily en-
sue upon such a comprehensive and fundamental
alteration in the condition of affairs? Where else
would the blame have to be laid for the increased
local taxation for State, county and municipal
purposes, which would have to be levied upon
other property to make up the deficiency caused
by such prodigious derangement and fall of prices,
and by such an enervating decrease of the pro-
ductive forces? Finally, what substantial or per-
manent gain would there be to show for all this
demolition of home resources, this prostration of
on imports.
On withdraw-
manufacturing industry, this invasion of the rights
of labor, this sacrifice of assured prosperity to
Satisfy a visionary experiment, this paralysis of
vital interests, this inauguration of wholesale suf-
fering among those who live by wages? — It is
asserted that the multitude of skilled laborers
thus thrust out of employment could find work
and pay in more productive occupations, in those
which could exist without the aid of a tariff
But the skill of these laborers —
forming the valuable capital acquired by them
through years of persevering training, fitting them
to perform certain services better and more prof-
itably than any other service — would cease to
be available as an element in reckoning the rate
of wages, and would lose its money value in
any different vocation. Every employer needs
that his employés shall have both aptitude and
knowledge, not the lack of these qualifications;
and the highest capacity will be able to obtain the
most pay. A druggist will not add one cent to
a clerk’s salary because he is an excellent machin-
ist, nor a farmer esteem it a pecuniary advantage
to hire a man who is a first-class puddler, nor the
captain of a vessel feel called upon to give more
compensation to a sailor who is a competent file-
maker. On the contrary, the inexperience of
each applicant for employment in Some Occupa-
tion with which he is unfamiliar, instantly oper-
ates to lower the value of his services, and to
diminish the amount he can earn. Perhaps he
can become a manual day laborer, of whom me-
chanical skill is not required; but the ranks of
that useful class are always full, and, if he adds
himself to them, it will tend to break down the
wages of them all. Perhaps he can become a
farm hand; but there is already a surplus of labor
in agriculture, so much so that corn is frequently
used for fuel in some parts of the rural West.
When a multitude of men are forced, by adverse
circumstances, out of employment in the trades
for which they were trained, they can find new
employment only by being absorbed into other
occupations; and they can be so absorbed only by
reducing the wages in the occupations to which
their labor is transferred. Thus the aggregate
capital represented in the skill of labor suffers a
ruinous depreciation, which is felt, not merely by
the laborer himself, but, through the partial or
total loss of his earning and purchasing powers,
by all with whom he had been accustomed to
deal, extending its injurious influences through-
out an almost unimaginable complexity of rela-
tions. During the years which followed the panic
of 1873, the tramp nuisance signally illustrated
the effect of driving labor out of its legitimate
channels of occupation. Society is obligated,
therefore, as well from what it owes to labor, as
from a regard to its own best interests, and to all
of its interests, to secure to labor those Opportuni-
ties for steady employment, and those advantages
of fair wages, which are indispensable to its wel-
fare, and which will promote its greatest prosper-
ity. This is the only protection which labor asks,
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
429
and is what it has a right to demand from gov-
ernment. —6. Cheap production through sacrifice
of labor. There is only one way in which defen-
sive duties on imports could be discontinued with-
out bringing ruin upon our diversified industries.
If our labor would promptly consent to resign
itself to unfairly low, or subsistence, or slavery
Wages, such as are doled out to European labor,
foreign competition could be overmastered and
our establishments could survive. Here the chief
elements of mere subsistence are already far
cheaper than they are in Europe, and, under a
system of scaling prices down to conformity with
pittance pay to labor, even food would become
much cheaper than it is, while clothing, house-
hold utensils, furniture, tenement rents, and near-
ly all other requirements of the simplest living,
would be reduced in cost much below the average
in any of the manufacturing countries of the old
world. This unparalleled cheapness would en-
able our subsistence wages to be put at a less rate
than they are in any part of Europe. Then we
could produce manufactures cheaper than any
foreign competitor whatever. But the purchasing
power of the masses of our people would be cor-
respondingly low, while their productive power
would be largely in advance of their consump-
tion. This would force our producers, as it does
the British, to look abroad for markets to take off
the surplus, or else a considerable part of produc-
tion would have to cease, with the result of thrust-
ing a multitude of laborers out of employment
and into pauperism, to be supported by public
charity or to starve. Under such circumstances
we would become exporters of immense quanti-
ties and values of finished products, and would
be deeply, even vitally, interested in the abolition
of hostile tariffs everywhere, as Great Britain is
now. Further than that, with the advantage pos-
sessed by us in our superior cheapness, as regards
both productive cost and selling price, we could
and would wrest from Great Britain, not only
her foreign markets, but even her home market,
and ruin her manufacturing industries, as she now
seeks to ruin ours that she may secure a monop-
oly control of our market, and thus take off much
of her surplus. It would be our selfish interest,
as it is hers, to crush out competition wherever
encountered throughout the world, and to destroy
all the rising arts of reproduction set on foot by
other nations. Nor could we be prevented from
accomplishing this result, unless those nations
should adopt defensive tariffs on imports, effi-
ciently framed and adequately enforced, as we
have done. Thus it would be possible for us,
therefore, to beat Great Britain at her own game
of overmastering cheapness. But what, worth
having, would we gain by such a radical change
of our present condition? Nothing whatever.
Instead, the aggregate loss would be enormous
and awful. We would, to begin with, treat man
as made for trade, not trade as made for man.
Our laborers, deprived of justly high, or comfort,
or freedom wages, would quickly sink in the scale
of civilization. Within a few generations they
would cease to be intelligent, and become igno-
rant, debased, superstitious, servile, and unfit to
be trusted with the ballot. No longer having
chances to improve their condition, or to arise
above it, they would lose their present incentives
to Self-respect, to courage, to ambition, to enter-
prise, to hope. The spirit of man falls with his
wages—declines as declines the reward of his
industry, toil and care. Crush the latter, and he
is crushed. Take away from labor in the United
States the elevated, important and commanding
position which it now occupies, and let its wages
and its situation sink to the European level, then
its descent would drag down the edifice of repub-
lican institutions and of human freedom. These
can not long exist where the rights of labor are
not respected. Would general cheapness in the
prices of commodities be any compensation for
this tremendous sacrifice of all we hold dear and
sacred as the results of American liberty?— 7.
Cheap production through defense of labor. Protec-
tion attains to cheapness of money price in a ra-
tional and beneficent way. Under that system the
Apnerican mechanic, educated, well paid, well
clothed, well housed, is not consumed by those
large cares, nor deadened by those cruel priva-
tions, which beset the life of his European Com-
petitor, who rarely has either leisure, inclination
or incentive to study out improvements in the
processes by which he earns his daily bread.
Here, however, the workman, surrounded by a
multitude of different industries, is always in the
path of intelligently perceiving what is wanting
or what is amiss in the old methods, and has a
better chance, as well as a stronger inducement, to
make the needed progress, whether in machinery,
in fabrics or in operations. Without protection,
our widely differentiated industry could not exist;
without such diversity, there would be lacking,
not only the accurate knowledge of details which
is requisite to suggest a higher excellence in pro-
ductive instrumentalities, but also the hope of re-
ward essential to spur the mind to experimental
effort. An improved plow is not expected from
sailors, who are ignorant of agriculture; an im-
proved ship is not expected from farmers, who
have no practical acquaintance with the Ocean.
If Whitney had not seen cotton growing, and
learned both the difficulties and the cost of sep-
arating the seed, it is probable that he would not
have invented the cotton gin. If the spinning of
cotton had not been carried on in England at all,
during Arkwright's life, it is altogether unlikely
that he would have invented the spinning frame.
Our successful inventors have generally been poor
men, whose daily experience at their work has
shown them some defect in its processes, Or Sug-
gested some more useful mode of reaching its
results. In this manner the drudgery of human
hands is gradually transferred to muscles of iron
and steel, one machine doing the work of sev-
eral or many men, with constantly decreasing
cost of its production. These automatic appli-
430
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
ances rise in the scale of excellence until a cor-
respondingly high degree of excellence, which
means intelligence, in the labor, is indispensable.
Then, as prices of manufactures decline, the rate
of wages advances. Cheapness of commodities
thus brought about is allied with the progress of
Civilization; but the cheapness caused temporarily
in an importing country by foreign free trade
both victimizes and debases the people whom it
promises to bless. – 8. Poverty and weakness of a
purely agricultural country. Supposing nearly
the whole body of our population occupied in
cultivating the soil to obtain a livelihood, a home
market for any considerable share of the surplus
of the crops would be a simple impossibility.
The grower of cotton, of tobacco, of rice, of
wheat, of corn, of hemp, or of flax, has neither
need nor desire to purchase a like product; he is
always and everywhere a seller, not a buyer, of
the commodity. If his surplus can not find sale
in his own neighborhood, it must be sent to a dis-
tant place for that purpose; and if customers or
consumers can not be found nearer than Liver-
pool, his crops must cross the ocean in search of a
market, involving the greatest amount and dis-
tance of transportation, and the largest demand
for the always expensive services of the middle-
man, with the least profit to the producer. Thus
dependent upon very far-off markets, the agricult-
urist must conform his crops to the arbitrary and
inexorable requirements of those markets. He is
forced to raise only such things as can with cer-
tainty be sold regularly there; and he must do so
without knowing beforehand whether large or
small quantities of his produce will be needed for
export, or whether the prices he will receive after
harvest will be high or low. Uncertainty, insta-
bility and risk, in an extraordinary degree, must
be the inseparable companions of his toil, and the
constant perils of its reward. An agriculture so.
situated and conducted, being necessarily devoid
of rotation of crops, leads to exhaustion of the
soil, and to the appropriation of other land, in its
turn to be exhausted. As the farmer advances in
this butchery and spoliation of the earth's surface,
he leaves behind him an impoverished region, in-
capable of sustaining a population. Such a plun-
der of the fertilizing and vegetative elements of
the ground unavoidably tends to poverty; hence
agricultural nations, with scarcely any manufact-
uring industry, are always poor nations. Ireland’s
present condition offers a fair illustration of the
invariable result. A like doom would await the
United States under foreign free trade, or under
everſ “a tariff for revenue only,” if either should
be continued to the bitter end. The effects upon
mining, transportation, inventive genius, architec-
ture, education, literature, and the power of com-
bination and association, would all be equally re-
pressive and disastrous. There would be enor-
mous and frightful losses, for which no possible
cheapness of the money prices of commodities
could compensate our people. Further, a poor
nation is necessarily a weak nation. What if war
should come upon us after we had reached our im-
poverished condition as an agricultural country?
We might be unable to maintain the national inde-
pendence of the United States against a war of in-
vasion. Under just such a policy, Turkey has
been slowly crumbling away before continual en-
croachment, until she is upon the perilous edge of
a final catastrophe which will blot her name from
the list of self-governed states. History abounds
with similar warnings, which nothing except the
blind confidence of ignorance or the audacious in-
sanity of folly would refuse to heed. All the voices
of experience combine to teach that the only path.
of safety, and the only road to prosperity, lies
through protection to home labor by means of
defensive duties on imports. – 9. Effect of sepa-
nating producer from consumer. When farmer and
miller are within easy reach of each other, they
divide between them, on some equitable plan, all
the flour made; but when a considerable distance
is interposed between the two, a third party, the
transporter, must be employed, who takes a share
of the grain, or the money price of that share,
to compensate him for his Services in conveying
the grain to the miller; and again, a share of the
flour, or the equivalent of that share, to pay him
for his time and trouble in carrying the flour to
the farmer, leaving less to be divided between the
man who grows the grain and the man who con-
verts it into flour. Ultimately, however, the mill-
er might grind the transporter's share of the
grain, taking therefrom his customary toll, and
thus might secure for himself the same propor-
tion of the whole quantity as if the transporter
had not intervened; but the farmer must, in any
event, suffer a positive and permanent loss. It is
true, the farmer makes a gain by obtaining the
conversion of his grain into flour; but between
his gain and that of the miller and the transporter,
theirs not being complicated with a sacrifice, there
is a large inequality of profitable result. Let this
inequality be extended to a great variety and
number of the farmer's exchanges, covering the
most of his purchases, then his impoverishment,
would be merely a question of time, or else his
power of accumulation would be so seriously crip-
pled as to prevent any considerable or rapid im-
provement of his condition. Extending this idea,
let us suppose A, a country in the western hemi-
sphere, and Z, a country in the eastern hemisphere;
and that A. exchanges its raw products of the soil
for Z's finished products of the loom, the forge
and the workshop. This would be the exchange
of commodities which free traders declare to be
commerce. It clearly belongs to the kind, how-
ever, which would call largely for the services of
the transporter and his allied middlemen. It
would require the investment of a vast amount
of capital in steamships, sailing vessels, railroads,
canals, and other machinery of the carrying trade.
A and Z would severally have to pay the cost of
conveying their commodities to the distant mar-
ket. Much the heavier part of this expense would
fall upon producers in A. Their raw products of
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
431
the soil being bulky, these would necessarily oc-
cupy large space in the holds of the ships, and
being of small money value proportioned to their
size, it would require a considerable percentage
of that value to liquidate the freight charges. On
the contrary, much the lighter part of the expense
would fall upon producers in Z, whose finished
products of mechanical labor would fill Small
space relatively, and being of large money value
in little compass, only a trifling percentage of
such value would be needed to pay for transpor-
tation. A cargo of wheat exported from A to Z
would involve the payment of pretty much the
same amount of freight clarge as a cargo of cloth
exported from Z to A; yet the cargo of cloth
would purchase many cargoes of wheat. Pro-
ducers in A would have to give so considerable a
part of the money value of their products to the
transporter, to compensate him for taking them to
market, as to leave a very scanty margin for a prof-
itable return; and the more inland the producers
were, the greater would they be sufferers in this re-
spect; for, in addition to the cost of Ocean carriage,
they would have that of getting their products to
the seaboard. Moreover, this mode of commerce
would embody the folly of taking food and the
crude materials of manufacture, in unending Se-
ries, immense distances to supply the wants of
the loom, the forge and the workshop, instead of
bringing the loom, the forge and the workshop,
once for all, where they could reproductively con-
sume the food and the crude materials of manu-
facture, thus saving forever all the expenses of a
double transportation. Still further, under such
a system of exchanges, the inhabitants of A
would be compelled to devote themselves to the
growth of such staples as the inhabitants of Z
would purchase, thereby enforcing a uniformity
of crops, and depriving the people of the power
to make exchanges among themselves, except to a
very limited extent. This condition would also
involve a dispersion of population, accompanied
with feeble capacity for combined effort in the
construction of roads and the building of bridges,
and in providing other means to diminish the bur-
densome tax of transportation. A large increase
of the export of the raw products of the soil from
A might indicate, therefore, not an increase of in-
dividual and national prosperity, but a diminished
ability to exchange commodities at home, causing
an expansion of the foreign at the expense of the
domestic commerce. It thus appears that there
may be an exchange of commodities between differ-
ent countries in which all the real gain is on One
side and all the actual loss on the other; or, in other
words, wherein all the aggrandizing tendencies
combine with Z, and all the depreciating tenden-
cies assault A. — 10. Effect of Öringing producer
and comsumer together. Middlemen, whether car-
rier, broker, agent or trader, add nothing to either
quantity or quality of commodities passing through
their hands; yet the pay for their services, includ-
ing their accumulation of wealth as well as their
maintenance, must come out of producers or con-
sumers. Wool will make as much cloth in the
United States as in England. If, however, the
wool is taken to England to be converted into
cloth, and the cloth is brought back to be con-
verted into clothing, then all the intermediaries
required to make the changes in place will obtain
a portion of the values created, and all the other
parties involved will receive less by the amount
thus deducted. When the manufacturer is trans.
ferred to the side of the wool grower, these inter-
vening charges, expenses, losses, are thrust out
and entirely saved. The exchanges becomedirect,
with the minimum of friction, risk, delay and ob-
stacle. Transactions are between principals, nof
through agents. No organized waste of time
separates the moment of completed production
from the moment of commenced consumption,
resulting in a sluggishness of societary movement.
As exchanges between parties distant from each
other are always fewer than between parties near
together, and as frequency and rapidity of ex-
changes are far preferable to their rarity and
tardiness, commerce is rendered capable of confer-
ring its utmost benefits. Protection’s task is to
place producer and consumer side by side, making
them such correlatives in human industry as they
are in nature's operations. The rock collects the
elements of change from the surrounding affini-
ties, not from the far-off ledge or particles. The
plant draws its sustenance from the soil in which
it is rooted, and from the neighboring air, Sun-
shine and showers, not from the remote field, and
from the distant atmosphere, light and rain. The
cow, endowed with the power of locomotion,
browses in the vicinity of her home, not in the
valleys or upon the plains a score of miles away.
Such is the mode of procedure in all nature, ani-
mate or inanimate, below man. He alone has
ever voluntarily pursued a different course : he
alone by distance has separated production from
consumption, thereby establishing impediments
between the two, and injuriously affecting his own
welfare. Considering that iron, copper, lead, coal,
limestone, marble, manganese, porcelain clay,
salt, and many other minerals, are profusely im-
bedded in our soil, and that these substances are
essential to the development of the human race,
by what legerdemain of logic is it to be shown
that this close proximity of Supply to demand is
not an indication, almost imperatorial in its em-
phasis, that demand should seek its supply on the
spot? It will hardly be maintained that the bound-
less presence of these resources has been a matter
of pure chance rather than of deliberate design.
If by design, then what can be the meaning of
that design, unless it be that man, obeying the
divine mandate to “be fruitful and multiply, and
replenish the earth, and subdue it,” should find
the means of satisfying his needs wherever he
might settle? Protection runs parallel with this
broad purpose, in a double sense; for it not only
incites our people to utilize the resources which
impregnate their own soil, but erects a barrier
against those who would entice our people to neg-
432
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
lect the resources under their own feet, in order
to develop and use the resources which lie under
the feet of other men, in other and distant coun-
tries. – 11. Competition ºncreased by protection.
Adequately defensive duties on imports, while
minimizing the destructive manifestations of for-
eign rivalry, secure the maximum amount of
wholesome competition; for, if the tariff be too
much reduced, foreign competition, flooding in
according to its own pleasure, will prostrate and
ruin the native establishments, whereupon all the
competition left will consist of that between for-
eigners for the possession of our market; but, if
the tariff barrier be raised to the protective point,
domestic industry will revive, and competition
will be increased by that between our home pro-
ducers, and by that between our home producers
and the foreign producers, thus insuring a three-
fold competition, moving in legitimate channels,
and acting with a maximum of combined force
to reduce prices to consumers. Protection, there-
fore, does not foster (as is alleged) but antagonizes
monopoly. — 12. Protection to either foreigner or
native is unavoidable. To abolish protection to
home industry, would be to take sides, in the
most positive and damaging manner, with foreign
capital against domestic labor. The inevitable
operation of the repeal would be to give the full-
est practicable force and effect to the advantages
which foreign manufacturers possess over our
own, by removing the barrier which stands be-
tween our producers and the destructive competi-
tion of alien producers. Foreign interests and
native interests are set before congress as objects
of choice, and congress is asked to choose the
former in preference to the latter: the benefit and
welfare of other countries rather than the benefit
and welfare of this country. What can a scheme
be, which takes away from domestic producers,
to whom it naturally belongs, the possession of
the home market, in order to bestow it as a free gift
upon foreign producers, except a scheme which
withdraws protection from a class at home to con-
fer it upon a class abroad? To repeal the laws
which punish crime, is to protect criminals; and
to legislate out of existence the protection which
guards and sustains American industry, is to trans-
fer the protection to European industry. A tariff
too low for home protection thus becomes a law
to protect transatlantic manufacturers against the
rivalry of our manufacturers in the latter's do-
mestic market. The issue between the protec-
tionists and the free traders, when reduced to
its seminal principle, dwindles to simply this,
whether we shall protect our own labor and capital
or those of other nations. Doing the latter may
be symbolized as dismantling our forts, leveling
our breastworks, and disarming our troops, in the
face of an invading enemy, leaving him at his
leisure to reap all the fruits of unopposed con-
Quest. The pretense that the government is to be,
or can be, indifferent in the struggle for the mas-
tery between our own arts and industry and the
antagonist arts and industry of other lands, is as
preposterous as to pretend that the government is
to be indifferent in the case of hostilities between
this and any foreign power. No revenue law was
ever yet enacted, in any country, which did not,
in some way, directly or remotely, affect the
rights and interests of labor for better or for
worse. There is no neutral ground upon which
legislation can stand in respect to material devel-
opment; the inevitable influence of statutory pro-
visions, especially of those regarding taxation,
must be, as common Sense and all experience
teach, to make Or mar, to help or harm, to rein-
force or antagonize, industry. Insomuch as the
productive elements of society find careful and
increasing protection in the general course of
legislation, national, State and municipal, what
just reason exists why any person should advo-
Cate the idea of leaving those fundamental ele-
ments of prosperity to take care of themselves
when the government comes to levy duties on
imports? Why should they be left out of favor.
able consideration at that exact point, and no-
where else? What is there about the arts of
reproduction which should make them an excep-
tion to the general rule of protection? Some
imports are advantageous; some are not, as im-
moral books or licentious pictures. To discour-
age the mischievous class of articles, and to pro-
mote the beneficial class, is to discriminate between
different kinds of trade, that is, different kinds of
production. This regard to the public welfare is,
as it should be, the ruling motive of our tariff
system. — 13. The national constitution eaſpressly
authorizes protection. Andrew Jackson said, in
his second message to congress, Dec. 7, 1830:
“The power to impose duties on imports origi-
nally belonged to the several states. The right to
adjust those duties with a view to the encourage-
ment of domestic branches of industry is so com-
pletely identical with that power, that it is difficult
to suppose the existence of the one without the
other. The states have delegated their whole
authority over imports to the general government,
without limitation or restriction, saving the very
inconsiderable reservation relating to their inspec-
tion laws. This authority having thus entirely
passed from the states, the right to exercise it for
the purpose of protection does not exist in them;
and consequently, if it be not possessed by the
general government, it must be extinct. Our
political system would thus present the anomaly
of a people stripped of the right to foster their
own industry, and to counteract the most selfish
and destructive policy which might be adopted by
foreign nations. This surely can not be the case:
this indispensable power, thus Surrendered by the
states, must be within the scope of the authority
on the subject expressly delegated to congress.
In this conclusion I am confirmed as well by the
opinions of Presidents Washington, Jefferson,
Madison and Monroe, who have each repeatedly
recommended the exercise of this right under the
constitution, as by the uniform practice of Con-
gress, the continued acquiescence of the states,
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
433
and the general understanding of the people.”
The constitution specifies that “the congress shall
have power to lay and collect taxes, duties, im-
posts, and excises, to pay the debts and provide
for the common defense and general welfare of
the United States”; “to regulate commerce with
foreign nations”; and “to make all laws which
shall be necessary and proper for carrying into
execution the foregoing powers, and all other
powers vested by this constitution in the govern-
ment of the United States, or in any department
or officer thereof.” These clauses vest in congress
almost unlimited power of taxation. As regards
imports, save the exception involving state inspec-
tion laws, and, besides, the requirement of uni-
formity in duties, the Senate and house possess
the same supreme authority over the whole sub-
ject as was possessed by the several states before
it was surrendered by them into the exclusive
hands of the general government. When they
parted with their undoubted and unquestionable
right, each for itself, and lodged it in the national
constitution, they endowed the new organism with
all powers and functions in the premises which
they could themselves have exercised individually.
Had the transfer to congress, by the states, of
control over the subject been of a modified or re-
stricted character, the evidences of such a fact
assuredly would have appeared in conclusive form
in the articles of union. The words in which the
qualified authority was delegated would have
been specific and positive, and the limits of its
extent would have been defined with rigid exact-
ness, leaving no room for ambiguity or misappre-
hension. The very absence of confinement within
bounds justifies the logical sequence that none
was intended; for certainly a restraint so impor-
tant would not have been left to implication or
construction. Evidence to the same effect is to
be found in the debates on the constitution, which
took place in the several state conventions called
to ratify or reject the proposed change of govern-
ment, for there the belief was generally enter-
tained that the grant of power over national
taxation was peremptory and supreme. Indeed,
the surrender by the states appeared to some
minds so excessive and impolitic that they pre-
sented it as a serious argument against ratification.
All were deeply anxious for a system which
would avoid the inefficacy of a mere confederacy,
such as they already had, but they felt a dread of
passing into the opposite extreme of a monarchical
consolidation. Those conflicting wishes and fears
led to a protracted, intense, exhaustive scrutiny of
reasons for and against every important sugges-
tion of change. Never before were political insti-
tutions adopted with so much deliberative assent,
with such thorough adjustment in the relations of
the various parts, or with so complete an under-
standing of the nature of the work. Reciprocal
protection against contingencies of foreign inter-
ference and encroachment was the foundation of
the new governmental structure, and it would be
grossly illogical to suppose that the protection of
147 VOL. III. — 28
domestic industry, so intimately connected with
the prosperity of the state, was purposely, negli-
gently or ignorantly excluded from the plan.
Congress, therefore, having entire control over
duties on imports, and this control being coupled
with the power and obligation of providing for
the common defense and general welfare, without
any reference whatever to a revenue standard,
the conclusion is irresistible that both those who
framed and those who ordained the constitution
granted in it full authority to legislate for the pro-
tection of native industry by creating tariff bar-
riers. The phrases “to regulate commerce” and
“regulation of commerce,” which occur in that
instrument, were not accidentally chosen, or used
in any vague, loose or indefinite acceptation, but
had been constant formulas of expression in the
long controversy between the colonies and the
mother country, from the time of the stamp act
onward, and had acquired, by repeated discussion,
and by legal and parliamentary usage, a fixed and
precise meaning. Our revolutionary forefathers,
people and statesmen alike, also Englishmen, re-
garded these phrases as synonymous with what
we now term protection. When, consequent-
ly, in 1787, the federal convention selected these
phrases to express the power over commerce
granted to the new government, in what other
than this familiar and customary sense could such
modes of speech have been employed? James
Madison, Daniel Webster, Rufus Choate, and
others of our great men, have declared, in the
most deliberate, specific, positive manner, that the
language in the constitution was intended to con-
vey the very authority in question; an authority
to be exercised, not held in abeyance. So, too,
was the grant interpreted by the first congress,
which contained fourteen of those who had been
members of the federal convention, its president,
George Washington, having been elected chief
magistrate of the United States, and another del-
egate, Alexander Hamilton, appointed secretary of
the treasury. It is not logically supposable that
these patriots were either ignorant of the design of
their own work, or capable of a plain, palpable,
direct infraction of the organic law; yet the one
or the other horn of this dilemma must be occu-
pied by those who deny the constitutional power
and obligation of protection; for the first tariff
act, approved July 4, 1789, declared, in so many
words, that one of its purposes, one of its objects,
one of its inducing motives, was “the encourage-
ment and protection of manufactures.” Next year,
when still higher duties were imposed, the same
avowal was renewed. The only legitimate Con-
clusion from all these circumstances is, that power
to protect home industry was put in the constitu-
tion in pursuance of a set design to put it there.
Before the Union was formed, the people de-
manded the insertion of that power; the people
expected to find that power in the instrument;
the convention conferred that power in words
familiar to the people from childhood as express-
ing that power; the people adopted the constitu-
434
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
tion, believing that power was in it; and the very
first congress, at its first session, in its first act
of general legislation, proceeded to exercise that
power in express terms, with avowed intent to
give it practical shape. These are historical facts,
which it would be folly to dispute: hence the
only sort of a tariff on imports which conforms to
both the letter and the spirit of the fundamental
law is a protective tariff. — SOME PRACTICAL
RESULTS. The general result of the protective
system is to develop and cheapen production un-
til its superabundance flushes over into the chan-
nels of foreign commerce. To accomplish this
Outcome the protection must be adequate, stable,
prolonged. Alternate changes from this system to
its opposite, as has been the case in the history of
the United States, arrest the movement, more or
less, according as the abandonment of the defen-
sive principle is partial or complete. Only a very
few articles have been both fully and steadily
protected. In those instances the tendency to
ultimate exportation has been most operative and
conspicuous. The universal law which governs
exports is that nothing, except coin and bullion, or
bonds and stocks, tends to go abroad until there
is a surplus of domestic production above domes.
tic consumption. There is no incentive to export
any commodity whatever until the home demand
is satisfied, and an excess remains to seek a foreign
market. Hard times may diminish the home
demand; still, nothing will be exported save what
would surfeit that demand, be it languid or active.
Brazil exports coffee, and China exports tea, be-
Cause each country has more than enough of its
special product for the satisfaction of its own
wants. For this reason Great Britain exports iron
and steel, cottons, woolens, linens, tin plate, and
Other manufactures. For this reason France ex-
ports silks, wines and beet sugar; the United
States, breadstuffs, provisions, raw cotton and to-
bacco; Australia, wool; Cuba, cane Sugar; and so
on to the end of the list. It is plain, therefore,
that we can arrive at the point of exportation only
by so developing the home production that there
shall be something in excess of the domestic sup-
ply. Without protection, either natural, as in the
case of newspapers, or artificial, as in the mass of
Cases, such an expansion of productive capacity
can not take place. This is the teaching of expe-
rience no less than of theory, From 1840 to 1864
we did not export a dollar’s worth of our own
woolen manufactures. The beginning of export
has been reached under our system of protective |
duties. This initiatory export, with its increase,
clearly evidences a highly developed woolen in-
'dustry, and a growing surplus above our own
wants of the grade and kind of fabrics exported.
Under a steadily fostering tariff, a gradual yet
accelerated progress is originated, by which estab-
lishments multiply, production enlarges, rivalry
intensifies, prices diminish, superfluity arises, ex-
portation commences. Such legislation is essen-
tial, therefore, to create that fullness of home
Supply which must always precede any tendency
to seek a foreign outlet. — The cottom crop of the
United States tariff-protected ºnto eatistence and ea:-
port. In 1789, when congress first imposed duties
On imports, all the cotton manufactured in the
American mills came from other countries, prin-
cipally from the West Indies. Only an insignifi-
cant quantity of the staple, locally consumed in
the household industry of those days, was grown
in the south; so little, indeed, that one of the rep-
resentatives in congress from South Carolina de-
clared that the production of cotton was contem-
plated in his state and in Georgia, and, “if good
seed could be procured,” he hoped it might suc-
ceed. Edward Everett, in a public address de-
livered in October, 1831, said: “In 1794, when
Mr. Jay negotiated the treaty with Great Britain,
it does not seem to have been known to that dis-
tinguished statesman that cotton was raised for
exportation in the United States; and he accord-
ingly admitted it among the articles not to be ex-
ported from the United States in American bot-
toms. Even as late as 1796, Ifind in the journals
of congress, that a petition from the proprietors of
a cotton mill on the Brandywine, who prayed for
the repeal of the duty on the raw material, and
the increase of that on cotton goods, was rejected
by the committee of commerce and manufactures,
on the grounds that the existing duty afforded
sufficient protection, and that “to repeal the duty
on raw cotton imported would be to damp the
growth of cotton in our own country.’” Hence,
the duty of three cents per pound in the first
tariff act was laid, not so much to encourage and
protect, as to create the existence of the staple in
this country as a regular and an important crop.
That duty (except during the war of 1812 and
awhile afterward, when all the permanent duties
were doubled) was continued unchanged from
July 31, 1789, to Dec. 1, 1846, or a consecutive
period of fifty-seven and one-third years, where-
upon it was abolished as having ceased to have
either protective or revenue force. In the fiscal
year 1848, the first complete one after the removal
of the duty, we exported, according to the com-
merce and navigation report of the United States
for that year, 7,724,148 pounds of sea island, and
806,550,283 pounds of other raw cotton, together
valued at $61,998,294; and imported 317,742
pounds, valued at $6,814, of which we re-export-
ed 51,001 pounds, valued at $4,727. Since then
we have enormously increased the crop, and an-
nually have found a foreign market for all we
could spare. In this case, protection, steadily
and amply applied, accomplished far more than
was hoped for at first, and was instrumental in
creating, developing, and establishing an ag-
ricultural industry of wonderful and the most
wide-reaching importance. — Aales protected to ea.
portation. The manufacture of axes and other
edge tools was commenced at Hartford, Conn.,
in 1826, by the brothers Collins, who were
the first to supply the markets of this coun-
try with cast steel axes, ready ground for use.
Until then such implements had always been
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
435
imported. By the tariff of 1828 a protective duty
of 35 per cent. was levied upon imported axes.
Under this protection the Collins company intro-
duced labor-saving machinery, much of which
was invented, patented and constructed by them-
selves. Ultimately their axes altogether super-
seded the foreign article, on account of superior
quality and greater cheapness. In 1836 foreign
and home-made axes were selling side by side, in
the American market, at $15 to $16 per dozen,
at which time foreign producers, finding they
could make no money at those rates, and that our
establishments could not be broken down, with-
drew from the competition, abandoning the entire
market to our own manufacturers. Then, other
domestic makers having meanwhile entered the
field, home rivalry and improved methods contin-
ued the decline of prices. Axes were selling, in
1838, at $13 to $15.25 per dozen; in 1839, at the
same; in 1840, at $13 to $14; in 1841, at $12 to $14;
in 1842, at $11 to $14; in 1843, at $11 to $12; in
1844, at $11 to $11.50; in 1845, at $10.50 to $11;
in 1846, at $10 to $11; in 1847, at $9.50 to $10.50;
in 1848, at $8 to $10; and in 1849, at $8 to $10.
These quotations are copied from the finance re-
port of the United States for 1849, and they show
a constant decline of prices, even after the pres-
sure of foreign competition had been entirely
withdrawn. Now, we are exporters of axes, and
are wresting from the English one market after
another. Said the “Sheffield (Eng.) Telegraph,”
as far back as 1874: “The steel of an American
axe is so superior to that of an imported axe that
no pioneer who understands his business will ever
carry any other with him into the wilds.” Simi-
lar testimony might be given by the page. A re-
cent letter from an Australian to an English house,
published for the information of the trade, says,
“It is perfectly useless to try to oust American
taxes from the market, unless the competing article
is at least as good in all points of view, and lower
in price as well.” The same letter further says,
“The Anglo-American axes are invoiced at 54s.
per dozen, while the best American (the ‘Hart-
ford ') are put on board at 48s. 9d. for the same
average weights. Furthermore, the casing on
English axes costs 4s. to 5s. per dozen : on the
American, mºl. It is, therefore, plain that the
trade must go to America, unless a very large re-
duction in the price of the English goods can
be made.” Thus has long-continued protection
placed American axes at the head for quality of
material, style of finish, and cheapness of price,
with surplus at home and growing exportation.
Similar illustrations may be drawn from locks,
Scissors, watches, fire arms, shovels, hay forks,
agricultural machinery, tools, saws, and many
other articles. The necessary corollary is, that
protection, adequate in extent and sufficiently
prolonged, will lead to equal results as regards
the great mass of our manufactures.— MOST FRE-
QUENT OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 1. The import
duty is added to the price of the home-made article.
This is the corner-stone of the argument against
protection. On it is built the charge, as variously
formulated, that prices are enhanced to consum-
ers for the benefit of the domestic manufactures;
that taxes are levied to serve as bounties paid to
privilege; that the many are plundered to enrich
the few; that the tariff is a scheme of spoliation.
Really, however, there is no greater falsity than
the dogma, that, whenever a duty is imposed, the
amount of duty is added to the price, not only of
the foreign article imported, but also of the simi-
lar article manufactured in this country; the fact
being that the tariff barrier merely shields and
permits the natural price, which varies in differ-
ent countries, according to the variation of its
component elements, just as the natural price of
wheat in the United States is made up of cheaper
components than the price of wheat in England;
and just as the natural price of pig iron in Eng-
land is made up of cheaper components than the
price of pig iron in the United States. Our wheat
can undersell English wheat: hence the ruinous
effect of our free competition upon English agri-
culture. On the other hand, English pig iron
can undersell our pig iron : hence the ruinous
effect of her competition, when not restrained,
upon our manufacture. The only way to guard
the natural price from destructive encroachment
from abroad, is to erect the tariff barrier, behind
which healthy competition, skill and invention
will co-operate to bring down the articles to the
lowest point at which a profit can be made. This
is the universal law of domestic prices under a
system of protective duties. It explains all the
phenomena about which there is so much dispute.
For instance, would a duty of $100 per ton on im-
ported pig iron increase the price of domestic pig
iron by that sum? Is there anybody so rash as to
insist that there would be such an enhancement?
If not, for what reason not, if the duty is always
added to the price of the home-made article?
This is one of the predicaments into which the
free-trade dogma forces its votaries; but the law
of prices above stated does not encounter any dif-
ficulty whatever. The explanation under that law
would be, that the duty of $100 per ton would
shield and permit the natural price of pig iron in
this country, and such price would rise no higher
even though the duty should be increased to $200,
to $500 or to $1,000, or be reduced to $10. But
if the duty should be cut down to $3, $2 or $1 per
ton, or to any other sum too small to shield and
permit the natural price, the home price would
fall; and if the competing foreign price should
be low enough to compel an abatement of all the
profit contained in the natural price of the native
article, or to cut below productive cost, then the
effect would be to stop the domestic manufacture,
and hand the market enjoyed by it over into the
hands of the foreigners, or else the chief compo-
nent of productive cost, which is wages, would
have to be so reduced as to give Some remunera-
tion to capital. When a tariff duty does not, or
could not, exert any influence whatever in shel-
tering and allowing the natural price, as in the
436
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
cases of raw cotton, ice and newspapers, its im-
position is a work of supererogation; but we can
not have healthy and prosperous industries at
home unless the natural prices of their products
are adequately protected against those aggres-
sions from abroad which possess overmastering
power. Persons who denounce tariff protection
are therefore compelled to take the untenable po-
sition that they are unwilling to permit the exist-
ence of natural prices for American products;
or, to state the case in another form, are opposed
to the continuance of all domestic industries
which can be undersold in our market by foreign
competition. To go before the people on that
basis of appeal for their votes, is very different
from going before them to get their support of
the proposition, that consumers are taxed by the
amount of the duties added to the home prices
for the enrichment of our manufactures. Nor is
this the whole of the predicament. If the duty
is added to the price of the home-made article,
then the conclusion is inevitable that the repeal
or the decrease of the duty will reduce the home
price by the amount of the duty removed; hence,
when in the summer of 1879, the American mills
were selling steel rails at $40 per ton, the repeal
of the duty of $28 per ton would have brought
the home price down to $12 per ton, although
the English mills could not then sell equal rails
at less than $22 per ton in the English mar-
ket, and although $12 would not have nearly
paid for the raw materials of manufacture, to
say nothing of wages. What value, theoretic or
practical, can belong to a dogma which involves
absurdity like this as an unavoidable corollary?
Nor is this all. Many articles of home produc-
tion, which are dutied in our tariff, are bought
by our consumers as cheap as, or cheaper than,
the equivalent articles can be bought in foreign
countries. How is it possible, in those cases, to
add the duty to the home price? Jaconet sells
(May, 1882) wholesale for 63 cents a yard, and
can not be had for less in Manchester. Abroad
the price of cod-liver oil is $1.30 a gallon, the
duty is 40 per cent., and the price here is 80 cents
a gallon.
presented, all flatly contradicting the free trade
dogma about the incidence of duties on imports.
A theory which allows for no exceptions, yet en-
counters a multitude of them, must be a huge
fallacy. Finally, if the import duties are added
to the prices of the home-made articles, and thus,
as is alleged, organize robbery by law, how is a
revenue tariff without protection to be defended
on principle? Such a tariff must levy duties,
and these, according to the theory, must consti-
tute robbery to that extent. This must be the
position occupied by those who espouse the dog-
ma about prices, unless the extreme view be
adopted of excluding from the tariff charge ev-
erything, of whatsoever kind, produced in the
|United States. But then the revenue raised
would be wholly inadequate to the needs of the
government. Here, consequently, is a very puz-
A long list of such instances might be
zling dilemma, one horn of which is robbery, and
the other horn a deficit. — 2. Free speech, free
press, free soil, free men / why not free trade? Be-
cause what has come to be styled in the discus-
sions of the day, and in the demands of the anti-
protectionists, as “free trade,” is the instrument,
not of freedom, but of slavery. The adjective
“free” does not necessarily dignify, improve, en-
noble, purify or sanction anything to which it is
applied. Good men and women reprobate the
use of liquor in treating on election days, as a
vicious and corrupting device to influence voters;
yet the intoxicant so used is styled “free liquor.”
We may, therefore, repeat the formula, with the
following variation : Free speech, free press,
free soil, free men! why not free liquor? The
answer, as before, is because it is the instrument
of slavery, not of freedom. Again: Indiscrim-
inate love, or the love of one man for many wo-
men, and of many women for one man, would
debauch society; yet this sort of love is advocated
by a class of persons who call it “free love.”
Once more the formula may be varied, thus:
Free speech, free press, free soil, free men! why
not free love? Because it is the instrument, not
of freedom, but of slavery. Trade is not made
really free by chaining it to the epithet free.
Free trade no more emblemizes or establishes.
freedom than a pure fraud emblemizes or estab-
lishes purity. Free men under free trade between
nations are put in bondage, losing their freedom
by becoming the slaves of trade. If trade is
made literally free by coupling the two words,
why is there so much talk in England about “one-
sided free trade ’’ and “fair free trade” 2 What-
ever is truly and properly free can not be one-
sided, and must be fair; yet these descriptives
are employed to designate that very system of
free trade which we are asked to copy, and which
we are told is so beneficial in itself that England
can not afford to surrender it, even although it
should be rejected by all other countries. It is a
very unsound use of logic to base an argument
in favor of an economic policy upon the ambi-
guity of a word in its different connections. The
formula given is only one of those carelessly
phrased propositions; one of those fallacies and
non-sequiturs, which are continually passed off
upon the unthinking as first-class truths; one of
those adroit, pungent, sparkling Sophisms, mak-
ing war for the wrong in the name of the right,
which are apt to dangerously impress such super-
ficial minds as are unaccustomed to independent
thought. —3. Every man has a matural right and
should be free to spend his own money ºn his own
choice of a market. Every right has its duty, and
the two limit each other. Thus, everybody has
a right to love, but that right is restricted by
laws, both human and divine. No man has a
right to love his neighbor's wife; there duty in-
terposes an impediment, while law erects a bar-
rier and provides a punishment. A man has a
right to marry, but not to marry more than one
woman, at least in any civilized country. His
|PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
437
marrying right is a right with fixed boundaries
or restraints, which he can not transgress without
doing an injury to society, and subjecting him-
self to just penalties. A man has a right to
choose his religion, but his right is limited by
the proviso that his religion shall not be such as
to require an invasion of the rights of others,
as, for instance, Mormonism, which exists in its
polygamous form in defiant violation of law, and
needs to be remorselessly crushed out for the good
of the community in general. It is the same in
regard to spending one's own money. The right
to spend is not an absolute right; like other rights
it is hedged in by duties or obligations, which
measure, determine and restrict its exercise. No
one, for illustration, has a right to spend his
money in getting somebody else drunk, with a de-
sign to unsettle the latter's judgment so as to take
advantage of him in sharp bargain-making, or to
trick him out of his signature or out of his vote.
It is not right to spend one's money in building
a dam across a stream, by which water will be
backed up over other people's land without their
consent. It is wrong to spend one's money in any
way which encroaches upon the rights of others.
Even the right to life has its limitations. He who
commits murder forfeits his right to life.
right to happiness is bounded by the duty of
conduct consonant with the attainment of happi-
ness. There are no rights without corresponding
obligations; and any argument which treats of
the rights as absolute, that is, set free from obli-
gation, is obliged to lead to fallacious conclusions,
as in the case of the proposition that every man
has a natural right and should be free to spend
his own money in his own choice of a market. —
Rights are of two sorts: natural and conven-
tional. To breathe, to eat, to live, are natural
rights. To spend one's money, and the general
acts of buying and selling, with the great mass of
what are called rights, are conventional, fixed
*ither by statute or constitution, or by custom,
which is only another name for the common or
unwritten law. Money itself is a conventional
creation for the benefit of society by overmaster-
ing the intricate difficulties, embarrassing delays
and sluggish movements of pure barter—the con-
dition before money was agreed upon as a medium
for effecting exchanges. A conventional right is
necessarily subject to the regulating terms of the
convention or general agreement, whether by law
or custom, which created it a right. What is a
conventional right in one country may be a con-
ventional wrong in another. In some places a
man may spend his money in ways or on objects
prohibited in other places. A man may lawfully
spend his money in Louisiana for a lottery ticket,
but to spend his money in that way in Illinois is
to violate a legal provision. It is a false assump-
tion that the right to spend one's money is a
natural, not a conventional, right—is a right
like that to breathe, to walk, to think, or to live.
It is nothing of the kind, but wholly conven-
tional. Whenever a man enters a community,
The
and becomes one of its integral units, he must
submit himself to the conventional rights which
he finds in operation there. He can not set
up his individual judgment, however wise and
superior he may consider himself, as the deter-
miner of his measure of acquiescence in those
rights; he must submit until he can bring over
enough of the other judgments to his style of
thinking to precipitate the desired change in the
conventional rights. – The argument for a pro-
tective tariff rests upon the experience that the
spending of one's own money for foreign goods,
when it dooms laborers at home to idleness, and
leaves our own good raw materials unused, and our
own natural resources to remain undeveloped, is
detrimental to the mass of the people. No one has a
right to spend his money in such a way as to injure
the community in which he lives. Every time
this country has had a tariff which encouraged
the importation of manufactures from other coun-
tries, the result has been disastrous to our domestic
industry. Wages have gone down, many thou-
sands of men have been thrown out of employ-
ment, and the activities of production have been
reduced to sluggishness and embarrassment. Ex-
actly the contrary have been the circumstances un-
der every tariff enacted with the effect of protect-
ing American labor and capital against encroach-
ment from foreign aggression, Are we to be told
that men have a natural right to spend their own
money in their own choice of a market, despite
the fact that such spending may inflict adversity
upon the nation, impoverish its resources, deplete
its revenue, weaken its political power, impair
its credit, and perhaps render it unable to success-
fully wage a defensive war for the preservation of
its existence? The policy of a protective tariff is
vindicated by the prosperity, strength, vigor and
safety which it confers upon the country. — 4.
Protection is the reign of selfishness, and it antag-
onizes the brotherhood of man. The Bible says:
“But if any provide not for his own, and espe-
cially for those of his own house, he hath denied
the faith, and is worse than an infidel.” Thus we
are taught that the duty to selfhood precedes and
outranks the duty to otherhood. Every man's
mind must be itself educated; every man’s char-
acter must be itself formed; every man's affections
must be themselves cultivated, disciplined, puri-
fied; every man's condition must be itself raised,
before his mind, character, affections and condi-
tion can attain to their utmost usefulness to society,
not only at large, but especially at home, where the
circumstances of daily intercourse multiply his
obligations and preferentially employ his duty.
Communities are not elevated pecuniarily, men-
tally, morally, or religiously, by a process which in-
volves the whole mass as a single entity, but through
individual action, the advance realized by each in-
tegral unit contributing its share to raise the gen-
eral average, and every retrograde movement of
any one of the units detracting from and lowering
that average. In every man there must be a large
development of internal power before there can be
438
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
a large development of external power. No more
than an individual can a nation exert great strength
outwardly until such strength exists inwardly.
Every person, every city, every county, every
state, every people, must look first to its own wel-
fare, to its own improvement, to its own benefit.
This is the great law of universal progress. .
Whenever it is violated it deranges the conditions
of normal advancement. Even Christianity was
for the Jew first, then for the Gentile. The gospel
was preached to all the world, but the beginning
was at Jerusalem. God has wrought the law of
selfhood into every fibre of man’s constitution, but
selfhood and selfishness are distinct, not identical,
the latter being the perversion of the former, bear-
ing toward it the same relation that lust bears to-
ward love. It is beyond controversy, because the
testimony of all experience in all ages and coun-
tries is, that man’s individual feelings are stronger
than his sympathetic emotions; hence the maxim
that ‘‘self-preservation is the first law of nature.”
To breathe is not more natural than to love first
and preferentially one's self, one's own wife, one's
own children, one's own kindred, one's own coun-
try. If this were not so, what would become of
self-improvement, of family, and of patriotism?
The assertion of selfhood is inseparable from
human nature. It is the gift of God, and there-
fore must be beneficial in its exercise. Only when
it is abused does it degenerate into selfishness, as
love in its abnormal and debased manifestations
becomes lust. Indeed, were man differently con-
stituted—if he felt another's woes more than his
own—this world would be turned into a scene of
universal confusion and of still greater suffering.
Then everybody, actuated by a self-sacrificing de-
sire to look after the welfare, safety and benefit of
others, would vastly neglect to look after his own
welfare, safety and benefit. The very sentiment
which would seek to render assistance would
prompt its refusal by the intended recipient; for
the unconquerable tendency would be to give, not
to receive, and, in receiving rather than conferring,
that tendency would be antagonized. Society
would thus fall into inextricable disorder. In-
stead of diminishing misery, such a condition
would augment it, until the earth became a rack
for the incessant torture of human sensibilities,
and extinction of the race ended the scene of
wretchedness and anguish. It is the wisdom of
God that selfhood should be the guide. That has
given the situation as it is, with its capacities and
opportunities of progress. The argument against
the protective system virtually is, that it does not
permit the abnegation of self to be substituted for
this selfhood. But the sweeping away of that
system—the abolition of custom houses and
tariffs—would not get rid of this selfhood. It is
not in the power of man to dethrone self, nor is it
desirable, even could it be accomplished. Self-
hood was bestowed by Infinite Wisdom to be ex-
ercised, not frustrated or perverted. Protection
offers it a fair field for its functional activity.
Home industry outranks foreign industry as home
folks outrank strangers. Free trade, instead of
fostering and developing selfhood, would degrade
and misapply its proper faculties and inclinations,
transforming it into aggressive and unrestrained
Selfishness. Suppose congress should remove all
the restrictions on imports, how could that culti-
vate the spirit of brotherhood? Our manufactur-
ing industries would be partly crippled, partly
ruined, partly extinguished. Immense amounts of
fixed capital would be irrecoverably sunk. Many
ten thousands of our skilled workmen would be
thrown out of employment. All this would hap-
pen because it has happened aforetime, when im-
port duties have been reduced below the level of
protection; much more, then, would it happen if
those duties should be removed altogether. Un-
restrained foreign competition, remorseless as:
monopoly, would be let loose upon this country.
How could such circumstances induce a wider,
deeper, fuller application of the doctrine of the
brotherhood of man? Whatever strengthens the
appeal to the instinct of self-preservation weak-
ens the incentives to sympathetic action. In a
shipwreck the spirit of brotherhood is generally
trampled ruthlessly under foot in the wild scram-
ble for individual safety. When, at the cry of
fire, panic seizes upon an audience, the spirit of
brotherhood vanishes on the instant, and an in-
tense struggle of each for self takes possession of
the scene. These examples illustrate the prin-
ciple. To abolish the tariff, to tear down the cus-
tom houses, or to withdraw protection from the
import duties, and thus to bring risk, loss, danger,
fear, grief, hunger, misery, to the homes of a
multitude of our people, would not yield the
fruits of brotherhood, but those of selfishness.
All the circumstances which centre the embtions
upon self would be reinforced at the expense of
the sympathetic feelings. As a scheme to pro-
mote brotherhood, free trade would be not only
idle and nugatory, but in its operative forces.
the very reverse of what would be intended.
Labor at home would be wronged, depressed,
victimized; and, as whatever harms labor any-
where tends to harm it everywhere, even Euro-
pean labor would be ultimately harmed by the
reflex influence from the harmed condition in
this country. It is protection, not free trade, that
cultivates and strengthens the brotherhood of
man. —5. Industry will thrive best when it is let
alone. This dictum became American free trade
doctrine in the days of Robert J. Walker, who
said, in his annual report for 1845, as secretary of
the treasury: “Let them alone is all that is re-
quired of man; let all international exchanges of
products move as freely in their orbits as the
heavenly bodies in their spheres, and their order
and harmony will be as perfect, and their results
as beneficial, as in every movement under the
Iaws of nature when undisturbed by the errors.
and interference of man.” This argument from
analogy is supremely fallacious, because the as-
sumed analogy is not legitimate, but forced.
Human beings can not, even if they would, exer-
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
439
cise any influence or control whatever over the
motions of planets and suns; but God has com-
manded man to vanquish the forces of nature, so
far as these appertain to our own globe; a com-
mand found in the words, “Be fruitful and mul-
tiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it,” as
addressed to our first parents. From that day to
this, interference, persistent interference, with the
natural order of things, interference for the pur-
pose of obtaining a complete mastery, has been
an imperative law of man’s progress to higher
and still higher levels of social, political, indus-
trial, moral and even religious excellence. There
is no such thing as letting industry alone, without
going back to barbarism, to the lowest depths of
human degradation, privation and wretchedness.
“Strictly speaking,” declares Say, “there is no
act of government but what has some influence
on production.” We know of no writer on polit-
ical economy, entitled to be considered an author-
ity, who disputes Say’s proposition. According-
ly, it is quite obvious, that, in regulating duties
on imports, and in all other legislation, the indus-
try of the country will necessarily be affected for
the better, or for the worse; it will either be pro-
moted and bettered, or be embarrassed and de-
pressed, whether, in making the laws, we take it
into consideration, or disregard it wholly. We
can not, then, let it alone without ceasing to make
or have any laws. We must legislate, and must
administer the laws, in respect to industry, and
So either promote or depress it, or, by ceasing to
have laws, relapse into barbarism, and, by so do-
ing, affect industry in the utmost degree possible,
that is, annihilate it. The let-us-alone dogma is,
therefore, saying in other words, shoot at random
without taking aim, and you will be sure to hit
the mark, or, refuse medical treatment under all
circumstances, and people will be kept in the best
of health. The declaimers in favor of letting in-
dustry alone, raise their absurd cry in the face of
the fact that all the positive and useful knowledge
We possess, all the accumulations we have realized
from the productive forces, whatever of empire
we have achieved over material objects, and the
whole of the civilization we enjoy, have resulted
from réfusing to let things alone: by interfering
with their natural order in the most obtrusive
manner; by interrupting and turning aside their
spontaneous tendencies; by compelling matter to
assume new proportions, to take on predeter-
mined relations, and to exercise unaccustomed
functions; by forcing the natural agents to be-
come the obedient servants of man; in other
words, by subduing the earth, in compliance with
the divine command. We dig down into the bow-
els of the ground, bring coal to the surface, con-
fine it in adaptable receptacles, and compel it to
surrender gas, with which we light our cities.
The let-alone policy would never do that. Water
has a natural tendency to seek a general level,
but we refuse to leave it to flow as it will, and
pump it up into reservoirs, distribute it through
pipes over a wide area, and supply it to the peo-
ple within their very dwellings. What has the
let-alone doctrine to do with such a purpose? For
centuries electricity flashed only in the lightning,
or illuminated the northern sky with the aurora
borealis; but man harnessed this subtle force to
ingenious devices of inventive mechanism, and
converted it, speeding along lines of telegraph,
into the errand boy of commerce. How many
years would it take the let-alone plan to accom-
plish that? We tunnel mountains to provide a
passageway for railway trains; we span broad
streams with bridges to afford easy and speedy
access between the opposite banks; we burrow
under rivers to facilitate the movement of people
and of vehicles; we lay telegraphic cables across
the Ocean to Secure instant communication be-
tween distant continents; we cut a vast canal
through the width of an isthmus, thus connect-
ing seas by navigable waters, and obtaining a
quick transit for large vessels, by which is effect-
ed a Saving of months of time and many thou-
Sands of miles of transportation; we go up in bal-
loons, and explore the secrets of the upper atmos-
phere; we send down a cunningly constructed
apparatus into the depths of the ocean, map out
the altitudes and the depressions of the bottom,
and determine the character of its substance; we
devise immense telescopes, and lay bare to human
vision the mysteries of the heavenly arcana. It
is by thus getting the mastery over nature, by lit-
erally subduing the earth, not by letting things
alone, that the progress of our race has been
realized. Our boasts are about our triumphs over
obstacles, not about our omissions to do. Every
advancing step of this progress has been signal-
ized by an increased persistency of interference.
We refuse to let iron Ore alone beneath the sur-
face, where it has been placed by nature; we dig
it out; we mix it with other materials; we melt
the mass down; we produce pig iron. Then we
refuse to let it alone in that form; we convert it
into bar iron. Still we refuse to let it alone; we
turn it into steel. Next, we refuse to let the steel
alone; we cast it into cannon; we shape it into
tools; we use it to armor-plate ships of war; we
transform it into watch springs. One act of in-
terference is only a stepping-stone to another act
of interference. In like spirit we refuse to let
alone anything which human influence can reach,
from a speck of dust floating in the air to the
morals of a community. Actively and incessant-
ly disturbing the customary courses of nature, we
develop the sour crab apple into the mellow, de-
licious fruit of the cultivated orchard; we marry
One sort of plant to another, and produce a new
variety; we diversify the external appearance of
flowers by artificial applications, and make these
changes permanent in aftergrowth; we domesti-
cate certain wild animals, and improve their
breed. Each successive generation witnesses a
considerable increase in the accumulation and ag-
gregate of these interferences, and each in conse-
quence secures the attainment of a higher level
of civilization. How, then, can it be said with
440
PROTECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
truth that industry will thrive most when it is
least cared for in the tariff laws? Why should it
be abandoned at that exact point, but nowhere else?
Industry must be protected in the laws which
levy duties on imports, no less than in the other
laws, if it is expected to augment, to be diversified
and to prosper; for it surely can not expand un-
der a policy of indifference, inaction, impotence
and folly, such as is involved in the let-alone doc-
trine.—6. Protection has for its essence obstruction,
and for its object Scarcity. This allegation is flatly
contradicted by experience. In the seventy-one
and a half years beginning with 1790 and end-
ing June 30, 1861, our net imports aggregated
$7,488,263,258; in the twenty years ended June
30, 1881, $9,117,531,264, or over 213 per cent.
more of value in about 28 per cent. of the time.
Our net imports in 1860, after thirteen years and
seven months under the revenue tariff system,
amounted to $335,233,232, or to $10.66 per capita;
but, in 1880, after twenty years and three months
under the protective policy, our net imports had
increased to $741,501,725, or to $14.78 per capita.
The idea of obstruction as the essence of protection
is signally refuted by these statistics. In the sev-
enty-one and a half years, our domestic exports
aggregated $6,854,339,383; in the twenty years,
$11,091,223,908, or $4,236,884,525 more in fifty-
one and a half fewer years. Our domestic exports
amounted to $373,189,274 in 1860, or to $11.87
per capita; but, in 1880, they had increased to
$833,294,246, or to $16.61 per capita ; a gain of
$4.74 per capita. As, averaging our domestic
exports, each head of population had this addi-
tional value to send abroad, and as exports always
consist of what the people have in surplus after
the satisfaction of their own wants, it is an auda-
cious and foolish crossing of swords with the truth
to charge that tariff protection in this country
has led to scarcity. There is no escape from the
proofs offered by these figures. They show, be-
yond room for doubt, that net imports and domes-
tic exports augmented faster under the protective
than under the revenue system, even distributed
and measured per capita, the growth of commerce
and trade being far more rapid than the growth of
population. Are these evidences that the defen-
sive policy restricts either imports or exports so as
to tend to Scarcity? Rather, do they not contra-
dict such a theory with all the conclusive authority
of positive knowledge? Our short mathematical
refutation of the absurd dogma of the free traders
is complete. With a prodigality of abundance in
plain sight every day, and in all directions, almost
forcing itself upon recognition, it is effrontery to
raise the cry of “scarcity,” and to stigmatize a
system of legislation which is concurrent with
such prodigious realizations as the skeleton in the
closet of the nation ; as the curse which sits by
their firesides; as the frowning omen of calamities
and still greater “scarcity” to come. The marvel
is, that a doctrine so preposterous should have
found a lodgment in any intelligent mind.— BIB.
LIOGRAPHY. The literature of the subject is very
copious, mainly in the form of pamphlets. Far
the greater part of both the minor publications
and the books has now only stray existence in
private collections and in the libraries of public
institutions. Among the most valuable works to
be occasionally procured at the Second-hand book
stores are Essays on Political Economy, by M.
Carey, Philadelphia, 1822; Propositions Concern-
Žng Protection and Free Trade, by Willard Phil-
lips, Boston, 1850; National System of Political
Economy, by Frederick List, Philadelphia, 1856.
The most important treatises not out of print are
as follows: Principles of Social Science, 3 vols.,
8vo, The Slave Trade, Domestic and Foreign, Har-
'mony of Interests, and Unity of Law, by Henry C.
Carey; American Political Economy, by Francis
Bowen ; A Manual of Political Economy, by E.
Peshine Smith; The Tariff Question, by E. B.
Bigelow; Essays designed to elucidate the Science of
Political Economy, by Horace Greeley; Protection
a Boom, to Consumers, The Solidarity of the Indus-
tries, The Protective Question Abroad, and The
Protective Question at Home, by John L. Hayes;
Protection to Native Industry, by Sir Edward Sul-
livan ; Sophisms of Free Trade, by Sir John Bar-
nard Byles; Speeches and Letters on Industrial
and Financial Questions, by William D. Kelley;
Speeches on the Tariff Question and on Internal
Improvements, by Andrew Stewart; Questions of
the Day, Economic and Social, and Conversations
on the Principal Subjects of Political Economy, by
Dr. William Elder; Social Science and National
Economy, and Political Economy, with Especial
Reference to the Industrial History of Wations, by
Robert Ellis Thompson; How Western Farmers
are Benefited by Protection, by David H. Mason;
Outlines of an Industrial Science, by David Syme;
The Premises of Free Trade Evamined, and Re-
wiews of Sundry Free Trade Arguments, by George
Basil Dixwell. A very large amount of valuable
information is to be found in Alexander Hamil-
ton’s celebrated Report on Manufactures, made to
congress in 1791, and printed in his collected works;
also, in the congressional debates on the tariff from
1789 onward, and in the reports of the house com-
mittee on commerce and manufactures, and the
committee of ways and means.”
DAVID H. MASON.
* In the above article the argument for protection is given.
The principles advocated by the writer of it are at variance
with those demonstrated in the article on FREE TRADE, as
well as with the body of doctrine contained in the various
articles of this work, whether political or politico-economi-
cal. It may be thought, that, on this account, the article
should have no place here; and something may be said in
favor of that view, since the Cyclopædia is a Scientific work;
and a consensus of political economists may be said to exist
as to the truth, and therefore as to the expediency, of the
principles of free trade. But, in the present condition of the
public mind in the United States, when so many are looking
for light, it was thought best not to exclude the argument for
protection, which now has a living, and always will have an
historical, interest. Readers of the Cyclopædia, we presume,
open its pages in search for truth. On the question of free
trade and protection we have furnished them with an article
on both sides. As a further contribution to what is still a
matter of controversy with many in this country, We here
PRUSSIA.
441
PROTESTANTISM. (See CHURCHES, PRot.
ESTANT.)
PRUSSIA. The kingdom of Prussia was com-
posed, before 1866, of many separate pieces of
territory. The largest, situated in the east of
give a summary of the case between free traders and protec-
tionists from a very recent work by an eminent French econ-
omist, Emile de Lavelaye. Says M. de Lavelaye: “Colbert,
the celebrated French statesman, once asked a merchant
what was the best way to promote trade, and the latter an-
Swered: Laissez faire, laissez passer (see LAIssEz FAIRE)
Ż. e., let it alone. The words were taken up by J. V. de
Gournay, and afterward became the watchwords of advo-
cates of freedom of commerce, now called free traders. —
What, indeed, can be conceived more natural than to allow
every man to buy and to sell where he can buy and sell with
greatest advantage to himself, whether in his own country
or out of it? We can excuse a state when it imposes an
entry duty on certain kinds of goods, to procure a revenue,
although such a duty is a bad kind of tax; but to impose
duties under pretext of protecting home industries, is a
measure both iniquitous and contrary to the general interest.
— By forcing consumers to buy of protected manufacturers
dearer than they could buy in a foreign market, the govern-
ment imposes a tax on consumers in favor of the protected
manufacturers, a compulsory buying which has in it all the
elements of injustice. In this compulsion and injustice con-
sists the protective system.— But, say the advocates of pro-
tection, protective duties are imposed to favor labor, and
consequently to favor the working class. – Error 1. The
economic end sought is not to increase but to diminish la-
bor. If I can get a number of yards of linen in a foreign
market by one day's labor, it is contrary to that eco-
nomic end to force me to spend two days’ labor in order
to acquire it. To force one to increase his labor without
increasing the product, is what Bastiat rightly called Sisy-
phism, since it is to strain humanity in a useless effort, like
Sisyphus, who was condemned to roll a rock, which always
fell back again, toward the top of a mountain. The eco-
nomic end to be sought is an increase of wealth and a de-
crease of effort. – Error 2. It is not rendering a service
to workmen to drive them into mammoth factories, by force
of law and contrary to nature. Look at Italy at the present
moment. What a pity that the tariff there has dragged
workingmen and workingwomen from the field and from
labor in the open air in that land of beauty, with its mild
climate, to harness them twelve or fourteen hours in gloomy
factories, while they keep time with the uniform movement
of machinery. — Free trade, by applying to nations the prin-
ciple of the division of labor (see DIVISION OF LABor) as-
sures them the benefit of that division, and thus greatly
increases their well-being. —If, in a family, each of its mem-
bers is employed in doing what he can do best, it is evident
that the aggregate product, and, as a consequence, the share
of each member of the family, will be the greatest possible.
If, on the other hand, each is compelled, by legislative restric-
tion, to devote a part of his time to a kind of work to the
doing of which he is not adapted, all and each will be more
poorly provided. Let us apply this to nations. If each of
them employs its powers in those branches of labor which
the nature of the country occupied by it specially favors, it
will carry to the market a maximum of products obtained
by a minimum of labor; and the consequence will be that
the well-being of humanity will be increased in proportion
to the increase in the productiveness of the labor of each
country. The man who, wishing to be sufficient to himself,
should endeavor to manufacture or produce everything he
needed, food, shoes, clothes, furniture and books, would
clearly be very ill-advised. Would the nation that imitated
him be less so? If my land, which is sandy, is better adapted
to the growing of rye than of wheat, the least onerous way
for me to get wheat is not to cultivate it myself, but to obtain
it in exchange from those who have clayey land. This very
evident truth shows the absurdity of the protective system,
which would compel me, whether or not, to cultivate wheat
On Sand. —- But, say the partisans of protection, foreign
countries will inundate us with their products. Wain fear:
, the labor necessary to obtain a given product.
Germany, comprised the provinces of Prussia,
Pomerania, Brandenburg, Posen, Silesia and Sax-
ony; the other, situated in the west, comprised the
provinces of Westphalia and of the Rhine. We
have embraced in each of these two pieces of ter-
ritory certain detached domains, but so small in
foreign countries will not give us their goods for nothing.
In payment of theirs, they will want ours. Commerce is
always an exchange of products against products. As many
products must leave our ports as enter them. If more enter
them than leave them, so much the better: for in that case
foreign countries pay us a tribute, and we may increase our
consumption. If more leave our ports than enter them, so
much the worse; for then, it is we who pay the tribute. —
Protectionists want to buy little and sell much, in order that
foreign countries may be compelled to pay the excess of their
purchases in coin. What a contradiction in these aims!
How can the different nations, exchanging with one another,
always sell more than they buy? Plainly impossible. — The
principal cause of the progress of industry, is the competi-
tion of persons engaged in industry, each of them striving
to manufacture better and cheaper articles and thus to mo-
nopolize the custom. The more generally the influence of
competition is felt, the greater will be the advantage of all.
Hence competition should not be restricted within the
limits of a state, but extended from country to country. —
Monopoly engenders inertia, and protection routine. On the
contrary, the manufacturer who is compelled to perfect all
his wares; will conquer the market of the world in his
endeavors to keep the national market. What is the effect
of a railroad connecting two countries? To facilitate ex-
changes between them. What is the effect of entry du-
ties on foreign goods? To hamper exchanges. How does
it happen that the same men, at the same moment, do two
things the effects of which are so completely opposed ?
— You spend forty or fifty millions of francs to bore a
tunnel through the Alps, and at both ends of that tun-
nel you, Frenchmen, and you, Italians, station a custom
house officer, who, by the taxes he levies, destroys in
great part the utility of that marvel of engineering skill.
Inexplicable contradiction 1 — A consistent protectionist
should demand the destruction of machinery; for free trade
and machinery have exactly the same effect: they diminish
Thanks
to machinery, the Frenchman can obtain coal at less
cost; thanks to foreign countries, he can get it cheaper:
the result is identically the same to him. – Would you,
Frenchmen, exclude foreign countries, then break your ma-
chinery. In both cases, you would have to put forth a
stronger effort to procure the same quantity of coal. – Cap-
ital spontaneously takes the direction of the most lucrative
employment. Protection directs it toward a less lucrative
employment, causing the difference to be paid by a tax levied
on consumers. Production is diminished by So much. — A
last argument is resorted to by the protectionists. For the
objects of prime necessity, they say, wheat and iron, for in-
stance, a country can not depend on foreign nations: since in
time of war it could neither feed nor defend itself. Answer:
There is no instance in which a people in time of war wanted
the necessary things. In our days such want is less to be
feared than formerly: firstly, because of railroads, which
facilitate revictualing; and then because the treaty of Paris
of 1854 has provided that neutral ships may continue to trans-
port the goods of the belligerents. Hence the hermetic
blockade of a state has become more impossible than ever.
Is it wise to inflict an injury permanent and certain on One's
self, in order to escape another which is remote and improb-
able? --There are some things which free traders have not
seen. To suppress labor, and not to increase it: such is the
end. Free trade attains this end just as machines do. Hence
both are a good. — But, it will be said, there are men who live
by the labor of their hands; and if you suppress them they
have nothing left but to disappear. Free trade, like machines,
may, therefore, cause a displacement of workmen, for they
must leave the place in which the tariff forced sterile labor
on them, to go where, with less effort, they will obtain more
products. This is what happened in France, when the rev-
olution of 1789 did away with the internal tariffs which
442
PRUSSIA.
extent that they scarcely deserve mention. The
war of 1866 gave to Prussia, with the electorate of
Hesse, which was situated between the provinces
of the east and the west, as if between the tree and
the bark, Schleswig-Holstein, Hanover, Nassau,
Frankfort, and some small districts; so that the
Prussian state, including Lauenburg and the two
principalities of Hohenzollern, now forms a com-
pact whole, with an area of 137,066 English square
miles. The area of Prussia in 1740, when Fred-
erick the Great ascended the throne, was 2,160
geographical square miles; 3,539 geographical
square miles at his death, in 1786; 5,551 at the
death of Frederick William II., in 1797; 5,725 be-
fore, and 2,859 after, the peace of Tilsit ; and
5,086 after the peace of 1815. Lastly, in 1865, it had
an area of 5,104 square miles.—In 1865, before the
several annexations to it, the population of Prussia
was about 19,000,000; it had been 10,402,631 in
1816, 12,308,498 in 1825, 13,556,000 in 1834, and
16,181,185 in 1846. The census of 1871 gave the
number of inhabitants as 24,693,066.” Prussia
forms part of the German empire, and its king is
the emperor of Germany. — I. Constitution. Cir-
cumstances, which now belong to history, post-
poned until 1847 the fulfillment of the promises
made by the ordinances of Oct. 27, 1810, May 22,
1815, and Jan. 17, 1820. A part of these promises,
however, was fulfilled in 1823 (ordinance of June
5), by the creation of the provincial estates, di-
vided into four orders—princes and lords, knights.
(equestrian order), towns, country. In 1842.
(ordinance of Jan. 21), the provincial committees
(Provinzial-Ausschüsse) were established ; they
were to be elected by the estates, and consulted
in certain cases by the government. Finally, a
decree of Feb. 5, 1847, established a “united
diet,” composed of the eight provincial repre-
sentative bodies. This “united diet” (Verein-
Žgter Landtag) was convoked April 11, 1847, and
generally carried on its deliberations in two curiæ,
the one composed of princes and lords, and the
other of the three other Orders. This first ses-
sion had produced great effects in the country,
when the revolution of 1848 broke out. The
national assembly, convoked by the royal patent
of May 13, 1848, did not succeed in drawing up
a constitution. It was dissolved Dec. 5, 1848, and
on the same day the king granted a constitution
and an electoral law. The two chambers insti-
tuted by the new constitution assembled at Berlin,
Feb. 26, 1849, recognized in the address to the
crown the constitution thus granted, and immedi-
ately set about revising it. But the second cham-
ber was dissolved April 27, 1849, and after the
promulgation of a new electoral law, dated May
30, 1849, chambers were elected, which assembled
Aug. 7, 1849. With the parliament thus recon-
stituted anew, the revised constitution of Jan.
31, 1850, was deliberated upon; the king and the
chambers took the oath to support it, and it was
published in the official collection of the laws and
ordinances of the kingdom. It is this funda-
mental act, modified in some of its parts by sub-
sequent laws, which we have here to analyze,
taking into account, of course, its subsequent
modifications. In case of conflict between them,
separated the old French provinces. Abolish the tariffs
which in our day separate the different provinces, and the
same fact may be reproduced. The displacement effected,
the men will be everywhere better supplied, for their labor
will be more productive, but they will perhaps be differently
distributed, which will not be done without hardship. The
conclusion is: do not cause Workmen to come into existence
in a place in which nature has not accorded them sufficient
remuneration. But when they exist, reform your tariffs with
foresight and prudence. — Much has been said of a system of
temporary protection. No one has given a better exposi-
tion of this system than a German economist, Frederick List,
the initiator of the customs union (20llverein) of Germany,
which led to the political union of that country. “The final
end,” he says, “is universal free trade; but in order that it may
bring to each state, and consequently to the human race,
the greatest possible good, it is necessary that each people
should turn its natural resources to the best advantage. An
exclusively agricultural country is necessarily a backward
country: instance, Poland in the olden time. Doubtless it
is bad that privilege should cause artificial industries to
spring up, but there are many industries natural to a country
which will not be developed in it, unless they are protected
in the beginning. Hence the best way to reach free trade
and to derive the greatest profit from it is temporary pro-
tection.” — Such is List's opinion. Adam Smith and J. S.
Mill expressed the same opinion. I admit neither the prem-
ises nor the conclusion. An agricultural country is not
necessarily a backward country. If Poland was formerly a
backward country, as List pretends it was, it was because a
frivolous aristocracy, employed in amusements, disposed of
the net revenue, and did nothing to instruct their serfs or
themselves. In no country in the world were intellectual
and moral culture, comfort and happiness so general as in
New England before protection developed manufactures on a
large scale. — People are in the habit of measuring the in-
dustry of a country by the mass of products which its in-
dustry produces. Wrongly so. Never did civilization shine
more brightly than at Athens, where arts and letters attained
the highest point of perfection, but where industry remained
in its infancy. Protection is no longer necessary in our day,
as in the time of Adam Smith. Discoveries and processes
are immediately known everywhere. Capital and the spirit
of enterprise are ceaselessly in search of natural wealth to
exploit it, wherever it is to be found.—Temporary protection
becomes permanent for the reason that the protected interests
enter into a coalition and Oppose all reform.” Compare pre-
ceding article.—ED. -
* The census returns of Dec. 1, 1875, showed that at that
date there were in Prussia 12,692,370 males and 13,050,034
females, being an excess of only 357,664 females, less than
in most other European states; in 1880 there were 13,414,866
males and 13,864,245 females. During the nine years from
Dec. 1, 1871, to Dec. 1, 1880, the ratio of increase amounted to
1.13 per cent. per annum. The census of 1880 gives the
average density of the population at 199 per English Square
mile. The variation, however, is considerable, the density
being highest in the manufacturing districts of Düssel-
dorf, in the Rhine province, where it is nearly four times
the average, and smallest in the district of Köslin, Pomera-
nia, where it amounts to but three-fifths of the average.
There are a great number of towns (1,289) officially en-
rolled as “Städte,” most of them of very limited population,
spread all over the kingdom. As in nearly all other states of
Europe, so in Prussia, there is a strong movement toward
concentration of the population in the towns. At the census
of Dec. 1, 1871, the total population of the 1,289 towns of the
kingdom was 7,968,545, and that of the rural communes
(Landgemeinden), 37,987 in number, 16,637,652. Compared
with the preceding census of Dec. 3, 1867, the increase in the
towns amounted to 466,909, or 6.22 per cent., and that in the
rural communes to but 167,951, or 1.02 per cent. Thus,
while the town population increased at the rate of rather
more than 1% per cent. per annum, the rural population grew
but at the rate of 3 per cent. per annum.—S. M.
PRUSSIA.
443
the constitution of the empire controls the Prus-
sian constitution. — Fundamental rights. All
Prussians are equal before the law ; the nobles
have no privileges. Public offices are accessible
to all citizens who fulfill the conditions provided
by the laws. Personal liberty is guaranteed; no
citizen can be deprived of it except in the cases
and according to the forms prescribed by the laws.
The domicile is inviolable; domiciliary search,
the Seizure of papers and letters, can take place
Only in cases provided by law. No one can be
brought under exceptional jurisdiction. Penal-
ties must have been provided for by law (they
have no retroactive effect). Property is inviola-
ble; expropriation can not take place except com-
pensation is made. There is no such thing as civil
death or confiscation. — Freedom of worship is
guaranteed. The enjoyment of civil and political
rights is independent of the religious belief pro-
fessed by the citizen (law of July 3, 1869). Re-
ligious communities or corporations can not be
declared civil persons except by a law. Each
religious body administers its own affairs and its
own property; it freely enjoys its institutions and
endowments; the relations of the faithful with
their clergy of all grades are not subject to any
restriction, only the publication of religious reg-
ulations is subjected to the rules imposed on all
kinds of publications. – Every Prussian has the
right freely to express his thoughts by words,
writing, printing and drawing. Censure is abol-
ished, and no restriction of the liberty of the
press can be established, except by a law. Citizens
may assemble freely, and are not obliged to obtain
an authorization to so assemble, but without arms
and in an inclosed place; they may form associa-
tions and Societies for any object not contrary to
the law. The right of individual petition belongs
to every Prussian; authorities or corporations alone
have the right of collective petition. The secrecy
of letters is inviolable; the law determines the ex-
ceptions required by criminal procedure and by
the circumstances of war. Seigneurial jurisdic-
tions and other privileges connected with the land
are Suppressed, and can not exist within the limits
of the kingdom. — The King. The person of
the king is inviolable. All official acts must be
Countersigned by a minister, who assumes the
responsibility of them. The king alone has exec-
utive power, appoints and dismisses ministers,
causes the laws to be promulgated, and decrees
the ordinances (cabinet orders, kabīmetoorder) nec-
essary for their execution. He is commander-in-
chief of the army; he has the right to declare
war, and to conclude peace or treaties. Only
treaties of commerce, and those which impose a
burden upon the state, are subject, in order to be
valid, to the approval of parliament. We must
add that the king of Prussia has now lost this
right, as it is the emperor who declares war. The
king has the right of pardon, but can not exercise
it in favor of a minister, except at the request of
the chamber which impeached him. He convokes
and prorogues parliament, and dissolves the second
chamber. In the latter case the elections must
take place within sixty days, and the convocation
of parliament within ninety days. – Succession to
the crown is in the order of primogeniture, in the
Hohenzollern family, and in the male line only.
The king attains his majority at eighteen. He
takes the oath of fidelity to the constitution in the
presence of both chambers.-The funds of the
Jideicommissum of the crown continue the pro-
prietor of the annual revenue of 9,649,121 francs,
drawn from the revenues of the domains and for-
ests under the law of Jan. 17, 1820, an annual
revenue which was increased by the law of April
30, 1859, an annual revenue which has a budget
appropriation of 1,875,000 francs a year. The
royal palaces, with the furniture and works of art
contained in them, as well as the diamonds and
all property acquired by purchase or inheritance,
belong to the royal family in its own right, and
not to the nation. — Since 1871, the king of Prus-
sia is emperor of Germany; this is not a remumer-
ated office, as there is no imperial civil list. The
heir apparent alone is entitled his imperial high-
ness; the other princes of the royal house have
the title of royal highness. – The ministers. The
ministers have the right to participate in the pro-
ceedings in the two chambers, and must be heard
whenever they demand it. But they do not vote,
unless they are members of the chamber. They
may be impeached by each chamber for a violation
of the constitution, malversation in the adminis-
tration of the public moneys, or for treason. The
supreme tribunal, consisting of the united cliam-
bers, are the judges in cases of this kind. Although
there is a president of the council, the ministers
are not jointly responsible; the king may even
retain a minister who has been many times in the
minority, the constitution not expressly requiring
the king to dismiss him. The king, however, has
been obliged more than once to yield to the pres-
sure of public opinion. — Since the creation of
the German empire many ministers find them-
selves serving two masters: the empire (German)
and the state (Prussian). The empire has no
minister of war, no minister of the navy, no min-
ister of finance, but those of Prussia. But they
have no right to take part in the proceedings of
the Reichsrath, except by reason of their being
members of the Bundesrath. The chancellor
covers them with the mantle of his responsibility.
— The parliament. The parliament, called the
Landtag, shares the legislative power with the
king. Financial laws must be presented in the
first place to the chamber of deputies; the cham-
ber of lords must approve the budget, or reject it
as a whole. It is only to maintain public Security
or to organize aid in case of calamity, that the
ministry can, on its joint responsibility, proclaim
regulations having the force of law, while the
chambers are not in session ; these regulations
must contain nothing contrary to the Constitu-
tion, and must be submitted for the approval Of
parliament at its next session. Each Chamber has,
like the king, the initiative in the making of the
i
444
PRUSSIA.
laws; that is, the right to introduce bills. – The
king convokes pi. Liament every year in ordinary
session (in January), and afterward as often as
circumstances require it. Each chamber draws
up its own rules and governs itself; it appoints its
president and Secretary. The sessions are public.
No decision can be made if a majority of the
members is not present. The members of the
two chambers are the representatives of the whole
people (and not each of his own district); they
vote as their conscience directs, and are not bound
by an imperative commission or instructions.
They are not bound to give any reason for their
vote. No member of the chamber can be prose-
cuted during the time the chambers are in session,
unless he be taken flagrante delictu or immediately
after. The consent of the chamber is necessary
to continue the prosecution. — The chamber of
lords. According to the law of May 7, 1853, and
the ordinance of Oct. 12, 1854, modified by the
ordinances of Nov. 10, 1865, Oct. 26 and Nov. '
16, 1867, the chamber of lords is composed as fol-
lows: 1. Princes of the blood who have reached
their majority, and upon whom the king confers
the right to sit in the chamber. 2. Hereditary
members, to wit: the heads of the houses of
Hohenzollern-Hechingen and Hohenzollern-Sig-
maringen; the heads of eighteen houses formerly
sovereign; sixty-seven princes, counts and lords
appointed by the king ; in all, in 1867, eighty-
seven hereditary seats. 3. Members appointed for
life: a, the titularies of the four great offices of
the province of Prussia; b, the persons appointed
by the king upon the presentation of the follow-
ing corporations: the three foundations (stifter)
admitted in 1847 to make part of the curia of the
lords, one member for each foundation; the eight
Colleges (verbände, or unions) of counts possess-
ing equestrian property, one for each college; the
representatives of eleven families of great land-
holders; the colleges of landholders, whose fami-
lies have been established for a long time upon
their property, to the number of ninety members;
the nine universities, one for each university; the
forty-three cities upon which the king has con-
ferred the right of presentation (most of them
present the burgomaster, who ceases to be a mem-
ber of the chamber when he loses or abandons
his municipal functions—the burgomasters are
elected for from six to twelve years, according to
the cities); and the persons whom the king calls
on to sit in the chamber of lords (in 1867 there
were sixty, but the number varies). — The num-
ber of the members of the chamber of lords is
not limited. They must be thirty years old.
They receive no salary or indemnity of any sort.
— The chamber of deputies. The chamber of dep-
uties is composed of 432 members. The election
is of two degrees. Every Prussian twenty-four
years of age, enjoying civil and political rights,
not living on alms, and having lived in the com-
mune for at least six months, is a primary elector.
The electors of each district are divided, accord-
ing to the amount of direct taxes they pay, into
three classes, so that each class represents one-
third of the total amount of the taxes of the dis-
trict. Each of these divisions, or classes, appoints
a third of the electors allowed to the district.
There is an elector of the second degree for every
250 inhabitants; and the districts must be combined
in such a manner as to include a population cor-
responding to six electors of the second degree.
The total number of the latter is about 73,000.
The primary elections, as well as the elections of
the second degree (nomination of deputies), are
made by public vote; the vote of each elector is
officially recorded. An absolute majority of votes
is necessary to make an election valid. In the hall
in which the elections take place, there can be no
discussion nor any decision made. The elections
for the Reichstag are direct and secret.— All Prus-
sians thirty years of age, enjoying civil rights, and
who have lived in Prussia at least a year (if natural-
ized) are eligible to the chamber of deputies. The
deputies are elected for three years. They receive
mileage and compensation during their stay at the
seat of government. The deputies to the Reichs-
tag receive no indemnity (gratuitous service be-
ing the counterpoise to universal suffrage and
universal eligibility). Frequently the same per-
son is both a deputy to the Prussian parliament
and a deputy to the German parliament, in which
case he is paid in one capacity, and serves gratui-
tously in the other.—II. Administrative Organiza-
tion. The administrative organization of Prussia
is considered in many respects a model; it is very
centralized, and yet self-government has a large
part in it. The administration proper is repre-
sented by the ministers, who direct the central
administrations; by the superior presidents in the
provinces; by the governments (whose organiza-
tion we shall explain further on) of the Régierungs-
Bezirke, governmental districts or governments,
corresponding to the French departments; by the
directors of the districts, called Landsråthe, equiv-
alent to the French sub-prefects, but intrusted
with much greater power; finally, in a certain
measure, by the bailiffs (amtmann8) and the bur-
gomasters, also by the Schulze, or administrators
of the commons (Gemeinde-Worsteher), correspond-
ing to the French mayors. Self-government re-
sides in the provincial estates, corresponding, to a
certain extent, to the councils general of the
French departments, but embracing the province;
also in the district, the canton and the commune,
but not in the department (governmental district).
—The treatises on German administrative law and
the royal almanacs still speak of the council of
state, and tell how it is composed (princes, minis-
ters, certain high functionaries, etc.). But as the
constitution of 1850 confides no functions to it, it
scarcely functions at all. The king can convoke
it and ask its advice, but this advice does not bind
the ministers; it has no peculiar privilege or pre-
rogative. The first council of state dates from
1604; its modern reorganization dates from March
20, 1817, when, in the absence of a national repre-
sentation, it was invested with the preparation of
PRUSSIA.
445
laws. The year 1848 abolished it, but it was re-
established by royal ordinance, July 4, 1854. —
We must also speak of the “secret cabinet ’’ (das
géhéâme Cabinet), of which mention is often made
in the journals. Before 1808 this cabinet had an
influence which annulled that of the ministers.
In 1810, under Chancellor Hardenberg, the pow-
ers of the cabinet were diminished; after 1822 the
cabinet recovered all its influence, which the con-
stitution of 1850 lessened, but did not succeed in
destroying completely. At bottom it is only a
secretaryship of the king, a committee of secre-
taries, whose members are functionaries of a high
rank, and who prepare the work for the king. —
Administration. The ministers, as we have said,
are at the head of the administration; their num-
ber is at present nine : of justice, war, the navy,
finances, of foreign affairs, the interior, worship
and instruction, commerce and industry (including
public works), and agriculture. There is, besides,
a minister of the king's household, but he does not
form a part of the council of ministers, or rather,
he is not a political minister, or, as they say in
Prussia, a “minister of state.” Various services
are directly subordinate to the ministry of state
(council of ministers), such as the official journal,
the archives, printing, various others, and notably
the commission of examination for future func-
tionaries. To be a functionary it is necessary to
have studied three years at the university, to have
passed a period of instruction and preparation for
the public service, and to undergo a new exam-
ination, called the state ea:amination, before the
commission. The candidate then obtains the title
of assessor, which confers the right of being em-
ployed and compensated, but some time elapses
before a place with the title of councilor can be
had. The functionaries of lower grade and sim-
ple employés are likewise obliged to pass an ex-
amination, but naturally the requirements here
are not so great. — As to the internal organization
of the public services, some are organized into
bureaus, that is, they have a chief, a sole func-
tionary, and employés; but most of these services
have councils or committees, in which the presi-
dent often has a great preponderance, but in which
each councilor has his powers (decermat) clearly
defined. — At the head of each of the eleven prov-
inces (Prussia, Brandenburg, Posen, Pomerania,
Silesia, Saxony, Westphalia, the Rhine, Schles-
wig-Holstein, Hanover, Hesse-Nassau) is placed
a superior president (Oberpräsident) as an organ
of the government, and whose powers are rather
political than administrative. In case of urgency
he can take any step which the circumstances de-
mand; but ordinarily he has to do chiefly with
the relations with the provincial estates, of which
we shall speak further on, the affairs which con-
cern many governments (district governments,
departments, called sometimes, but wrongly, re-
gencies), the surveillance of the provincial author-
ities depending on the various ministries; he is,
besides, first president of the government which
administers the district (Bezirk) in which he re-
sides. – Each province is divided into several
governmental districts (Regierungs-Bezirk); for the
six of Hanover, the name of Landrosties has been
preserved; their total number is thirty-five or
thirty-six, if Berlin is counted as a government
district. The Hohenzollern country stands apart.
These governments, which correspond to the
French prefectures, are composed of a certain
number of functionaries, each charged with a
service for which he is responsible; these func-
tionaries form a council (often divided into two or
three parts), which meets several times a week;
its decisions are signed by the president of the
council and the directors of the divisions. The
three divisions are: 1, interior (police, communal
affairs); 2, worship and instruction ; 3, finances.
These are collective administrations (German: Col-
legial). The powers of the governments differ
little from those of the French prefectures. It
should be remarked, however, that the council of
schools, which forms a part of the government
(Regierung) and renders useless the academy in-
spector, the council of construction, and others,
fulfills the duties of certain functionaries of the
Trench departments, such as engineer-in-chief,
director of direct taxes, and those of the chiefs
of division and of the bureau of prefectures. –
The circle (kreis) corresponds to the French ar-
rondissement, and the representative of the ad-
ministration is called the Landrath (literally,
country councilor) corresponding to the French
sous-préfet. However, it would be more exact to
call him the mayor of the arrond'ssement, for he
is appointed by the king from a list of candidates
presented by the estates of the circle (conseil d’ar-
Tomdissement); he must be a landed proprietor;
he represents the circle vis-a-vis of the govern-
ment, and the government vis-a-vis of the circle.
He is, however, paid from the funds of the state.
— The bailiffs of the cantons should also be con-
sidered as having part in the administration, be-
cause they are appointed by the superior presi-
dent, and have administrative powers; the burgo-
masters, or mayors, who are appointed by the
king, upon the presentation of the municipal
council, should perhaps be ranked here also; but
practice is not always conformable to the rigorous
classifications of abstract science. We shall now
describe the organs of self-government in Prussia,
remarking that the most important of these is the
Landtag (the parliament), of which we have al-
ready treated above. And first of the provincial
organs, of those of the circles and communes. –
Self-government. The organs of self-government
in Prussia are: 1, the provincial estates; 2, the
communal diets (Communal-Landtag); 3, the dis-
tricts; 4, the cantons, or bailiwicks; 5, the com-
munes. The administrative organization has not
the character of symmetry and unity that it has
in France; it preserves the traditional peculiarities
of the provinces and localities, so that it is diffi-
cult to give an exposition of it in broad outline.
— The provincial estates were created by the law
of June 5, 1823. In each of the eight provinces
446
PRUSSIA.
then existing, a diet was established, made up of
the lords on whom the king had conferred an in-
dividual (viril) vote, of the deputies of the great
landed proprietors or of the possessors of eques-
trian property, of the deputies of the cities, and
of the deputies of the country. The number of
members varies in the different provinces; but
everywhere the cities and the country have the
majority. The provincial diets meet every two
years; they sit in the chief town of their respective
provinces. The government submits to them such
laws of general interest as it deems proper, and
most of the laws of local interest. The diet elects
its president, who bears the title of Marschall,
and the government is represented by a commis-
sioner. These powers were extended after 1866,
in consequence of the annexations which took
place at that time. The old electorate of Hesse
was put in possession of the treasury of the ex-
elector, whose revenues amounted to 300,000
thalers; the diet of the province of Hanover re-
ceived in 1868 a grant of 500,000 thalers a year,
and the old duchy of Nassau an income of
142,000 thalers and a capital of 46,380 thalers,
provided by the funds formerly belonging to
Nassau; finally, the law of April 30, 1873, gave
to the old provinces, as well as to Schleswig-Hol-
stein and to the city of Frankfort, a grant pro-
vided for in the budget of the state, amounting
altogether to the sum of two millions. Various
acts have extended the powers of the provincial
'diet, which has the right to acquire and to man-
age all provincial property; it is specially charged
with public assistance in so far as it is incumbent
upon the state (asylums for the insane, for deaf
mutes, subsidies to poor communes, etc.); it Super-
intends the construction and maintenance of high-
ways and roads, and can, if needs be, levy addi-
tional taxes for this purpose. It is the Organ of
the province.—The “communal diets” are rep-
resentative assemblies for territories less than a
province; in this only do they differ from the
provincial estates. Thus Hesse, Nassau and
Frankfort together form a province, but each of
these territories has its communal diet (the word
communal is not synonymous here with munici-
pal, but means of common interest). Brandenburg
is divided into several Landschaftem, it is detached
from other provinces. This division of territory
is based on historical souvenirs. — The pivot of
the system of self-government is the arrondisse-
ment. The Landrath (sub-prefect), who repre-
sents the government, and who is charged with
the administration proper, presides over the coun-
cil, or better, the diet of the arrondissement.
This diet is composed of at least twenty-five mem-
bers, but most frequently of thirty; the number
depends on the number of the population. Elec-
tion takes place by estates or orders, that is, the
cities, the large landed proprietors and the rural
communes, constitute so many electoral colleges
(Wahlverbände), and each college appoints its rep-
resentatives. The great landed proprietors and
the rural communes elect each the same number
of representatives. . The vote of the representa-
tives of the country is divided by the deputies of
the cities, who are almost everywhere smaller in
number. The arrondissement diets or councils
have extensive powers; they administer the ar-
rondissement, which is charged with the powers
or prestations incumbent, in France, in part upon
the department and in part upon the commune,
and which are too numerous to be enumerated
here. Of course, a certain number of the deci-
sions of the district council must be confirmed
by the superior authority. —Below, and in cer-
tain respects it must be said in, the arrondisse-
ment, is the canton, or bailiwick (Amtsbezirk). The
bailiwick has existed for a long time in the prov-
inces of Hanover and Westphalia (and, if we are
not mistaken, in Nassau). It was established, in
1873, in the provinces of Brandenburg, Prussia,
Pomerania, Silesia, Saxony and Posen. A royal
ordinance of 1867 (Sept. 22) had continued the
provosts who existed in Schleswig-Holstein. The
bailiffs, provosts or heads of the canton are a sort
of cantonal mayor, presented by the diet of the
district, and appointed by the president of the
province. They are paid from the funds of the
bailiwick, and their powers have to do with the
police, which is exercised in the name of the king,
with the maintenance of means of communica-
tion, and, in general, with the execution of the
laws and of the administrative regulations. They
are aided by a council, in which each commune
is represented.—As to its municipal organization,
Prussian legislation distinguishes between the
cities and communes which constitute an arron-
dissement themselves, cities which form part of
an arrondissement, and the rural communes;
moreover, the municipal laws differ according to
the province. There are nine legislative groups,
and in each group a distinction is made between
the city municipalities and the rural municipali-
ties: 1, the six provinces of the east; 2, a certain
part of Pomerania; 3, Westphalia; 4, the Rhenish
province; 5, Schleswig-Holstein; 6, Hanover; 7,
Hesse; 8, Nassau; 9, Frankfort. Perhaps there
are also peculiarities in the old landgraviate of
Hesse, in the Bavarian communes annexed in
1866, Prussia professing a greater regard for tra-
dition than for uniformity, We may add, that,
everywhere, the autonomy of the cities is greater
than that of the rural communes. – The adminis-
tration of cities is regulated in the six eastern
provinces, not including the government of Stral-
sund (Pomerania), by the organic law (Städte-Ord-
nung) of May 30, 1853; in Stralsund by the law
of May 31, 1853; in Westphalia, by the organic
law of March 19, 1856; in the Rhenish province,
by the organic law of May 15, 1856. These laws
apply only to the cities of more than 2,500 inhab-
itants. They have some principles in common,
and notably the following: the city commune
forms a corporation, which freely administers its
own affairs by the organ of an executive commit-
tee called the town magistracy, assisted by a city
or municipal council (Stadtverordneten-Versamm-
PRUSSIA.
447
lung).
(mayor) and two or three deputies take the place
In the Rhenish province a burgomaster
of the magistracy. The magistracy is always
composed of a burgomaster, as president, and
several councilors, some of whom, as well as the
burgomaster, receive a compensation. They are
elected by the municipal council, but in cities of
10,000 inhabitants and more, their election must be
confirmed by the king; in the others, by the govern-
ments. The burgomaster and the paid councilors
are elected for twelve years, the others for six years.
The number of the members of the municipal coun-
cil is in proportion to the size of the city; they are
appointed by the municipal electors, divided into
three classes, each of which chooses a third of the
members of the council, one-half of whom must
be landed proprietors. The term of office is six
years, but the council is renewed one-third every
two years. — Every Prussian twenty-four years of
age, who has lived in the city for at least a year,
punctually and fully paid his taxes, who has a
house within the territory of the commune, or
carries on an industry of a certain importance,
and is inscribed for at least fifteen francs upon the
register of the class taxes or the revenue register,
is a burgher, and has the right to vote at muni-
cipal elections. – The powers of the magistrate
and of the municipal council somewhat resem-
ble those of the mayor and municipal council in
France. The surveillance of the state is exer-
cised, in the large cities, by the governments, and
in the small, by the Lamdraths. Both may annul
illegal municipal decisions, those which involve
an exceeding of power, or which cause prejudice
to the state; they may also, if they see fit, insert
in the budgets the obligatory expenses which the
municipal council has refused to insert in them.
A municipal council can be dissolved by royal
ordinance, but in this case another council must
be elected within six months. The approval of
the superior authority is necessary: 1, to validate
the alienation of urban real estate, or of objects
having a particular historical, artistic or scientific
interest; 2, to contract a loan ; 3, to levy com-
munal taxes; 4, to change the mode of the en-
joyment of a communal right. — The ordinance
of Sept. 22, 1867, for Hanover, and that of March
25, 1867, for Frankfort, differ in some details from
the preceding. — We now come to the rural com.
munes. In the six eastern provinces, to which
the law of 1873, concerning the arrondissements,
of which we have given a brief analysis, applies,
the rural communes consist, on the one hand, of
villages, and in part of great landed properties.
In 1872 these six provinces included 25,446 com-
munes, 14,152 landed estates enjoying municipal
rights, and 82 localities which did not form part
of any municipality; in all, 39,680 communes and
localities. Most of the communes are small, as
the following figures show : Rural communes
with less than 100 individuals, 5,305; with from
100 to 500, 15,676; with from 500 to 1,000, 3,493.
Landed estates with less than 100 individuals,
7,682; with from 100 to 500, 6,260; with from 500
to 1,000, 186. Localities with less than 100 indi-
viduals, 78; with from 100 to 500, 4; with from
500 to 1,000, 186. The rest of the communes and
landed estates have more than 1,000 inhabitants.—
The rural communes are administered by a head
called the schulze (mayor), assisted by two depu-
ties or aldermen; they are elected by the inhab-
itants of the commune, and confirmed by the
Landrath on the recommendation of the bailiff.
The Schulze may have a salary allowed him from
the municipal funds. He administers the affairs
of the commune, convokes the communal assem-
bly, directs its deliberations, and executes the
decrees. He must aid the bailiff in the exercise
of police duties, and provide the proper means in
case of urgent necessity; he is, according to the
expression of the law, the local authority. — In
the landed estates which constitute a commune,
the proprietor represents the local authority. He
exercises authority in person, or by a substitute
approved by the Landrath. On the other hand,
he is liable for all the expenses which are incum-
bent on a commune. — In the province of West-
phalia, bailiwicks have been established composed
of many rural communes. Each commune pre-
serves its own particular interests; it is adminis-
tered by a chief, assisted by landed proprietors
paying a certain amount of taxes (the amount re-
quired is rather large) whose decisions must be
approved by the bailiff, often by the superior au-
thority, in order to be valid. The bailiff, as well
as the chief of the commune, exercises his func-
tions gratuitously. The bailiff is appointed by the
king, upon the presentation of the Landrath, from
among the inhabitants of the district; if there is
no person in the neighborhood capable of properly
exercising this function, a paid bailiff not belong-
ing to the locality may be appointed. — In the
Rhenish province there are paid burgomasters at
the head of the cantons, which form large com-
munes, having their municipal council, without
prejudice to the individuality of each village,
which has its chief, and the inhabitants of which
assemble to deliberate upon their particular inter-
ests. The burgomasters are assisted by a council.
— III. Finances. The good administration of the
finances of Prussia is proverbial. During many
centuries it had princes who took care of its pennies;
the immediate successor of Frederick the Great,
Frederick William II., alone, made a break in the
series. Fortunately, his reign was short (1786–97),
and his son, Frederick William III., devoted him-
self to paying off the debts, by practicing the
strictest economy for many years. The oldest
accounts preserved are on the civil list of Joa-
chim Frederick for the year 1606. This prince
had only 40,000 thalers revenue, which did not
prevent him from undertaking the construction
of a canal. Under George William the domain
revenues Of the elector reached, in 1622, 211,527
thalers, but in consequence of the devastations of
war they fell (account of 1638) to 23,440 thalers.
On the accession of the great elector (1640) the
whole of the revenues of the state were valued at
448
PRUSSIA.
400,000 thalers; on his death (1688) the receipts
were valued at 2,500,000 thalers. His son, Fred-
erick III., who became in 1701 the first king of
Prussia, under the title of Frederick I., brought
the revenues up to 4,000,000 thalers. He died in
1713. Frederick William I. (1713–40) reached the
sum of 6,917,192 thalers (he introduced various
taxes), and the amount in the treasury was 8,700,000
thalers. Frederick the Great (1740–86) had, in
the last year of his reign, 20,000,000 thalers rev-
enue, and at his death, the treasury, despite the
wars and public works which he had undertaken,
was found to contain 55,000,000 thalers. This
money Frederick William II. set himself to work
to dissipate ; he reduced certain taxes, so that
Frederick William III. (who died in 1840) had, in
1797, a revenue of only 20,499,383 thalers. We
know the vicissitudes through which the Prussian
monarchy passed, during the period which termi-
nated with the year 1815. In 1821 the receipts rose
again to 50,000,000 thalers met (costs of collection
deducted); in 1844, to 57,677,194 thalers net, and
74,981,330 thalers gross. From this year (1844)
onward, the budget gave the gross product of the
taxes, but in the case of the postoffice and other
revenues, only the net revenue of the postoffice
was inserted. In 1854 it exceeded 100,000,000,
the account balancing at 107,990,069 thalers; in
1866, the last year preceding the increase of ter-
ritory, it was 168,929,873 thalers. The annex-
ations brought the figures up to 210,620,043 tha-
lers (budget of 1867), of which 168,929,873 were
for the old provinces, 22,589,700 for Hanover,
5,749,000 for the electorate of Hesse, 4,882,303
for Nassau, and 7,671,303 for Schleswig-Holstein;
the rest for the small additions to the frontiers.
From 1868 to 1873 we have the following figures:
1868, 159,757,064 thalers; 1869, 167,536,494; 1870,
168,251,372; 1871, 172,918,937; 1872, 197,059,940;
and 1873, 206,802,643 thalers. — When, from
210,000,000 in 1867, the total of the budget fell
suddenly, in 1868, to 159,000,000, it was because
the establishment of the Norddeutsche Bund, which
became in 1871 the German empire, had exacted
a great alteration, a part of the revenues and ex-
penses of the kingdom of Prussia being transferred
to the confederation. The total of the Prussian
revenues thus transferred to the federal German
budget was (budget of 1868) 62,173,346 thalers in
receipts (customs and indirect taxes, sugar, brandy,
29,616,401; salt, 9,547,737; postoffice, 15,783,899;
telegraphs, 1,594,275, etc., etc.), and 100,254,789
thalers in expenses (salt, 2,866,344; postoffice,
13,945,500; telegraphs, 1,737,230; army,72,994,740;
navy, 8,428,975; consulates, 102,000; civil pensions,
180,000). These changes are due to the fact that
the German empire has charge of the foreign
affairs, of the army, of the navy, and of the post-
office and telegraphs, and that its own revenues
consist of customs duties, duties on salt, the post-
office, and some sources less productive; finally,
that the federated states have to cover the deficit
by a matriculate contingent, an obligation which
is incumbent also upon Prussia. The following is
the Prussian budget, as it has been presented
since 1868; we shall analyze that of 1873, passed
March 24, 1873 (a little later than usual):
GROSS RECEIPTS, IN THALERs.
Receipts collected by the ministry of finance:
Domains (9,475,100) and forests (14,540,000), the
trust fund of the crown (2,573,099) subtracted - 21,442,001
Product of the redemption of rents and Sale of
domains -------------------------------------- 830,000
Direct taxes:
Land tax----------------------------- 13,055,000
House tax---------- > * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 4,867,000
Tax upon incomes of more than 1,000
thalers----------------------------- 7,000,000
Tax upon incomes of less than 1,000
thalers------------------------------ 13,264,000
Industrial tax (patents)---------------- 5,402,000
Railway dues ------------------------- 2,343,000
Miscellaneous ------------------------- 125,000
— 46,056,000
Indirect taxes:
1. Imperial taxes:
Customs 19,577,900, of which there were
turned into the treasury of the empire
17,759,900, leaving for the Prussian
treasury (the equivalent of its ex-
P&nSGS) ----------------------------- 1,818,000
Sugar (gross 10,475,380), remains to
Prussia ----------------------------- 419,000
Salt (gross 6,058,260), remains to Prus-
sia---------------------------------- 36,390
Tobacco (gross 120,020), remains to
Prussia ----------------------------- 18,000
Brandy (gross 12,840,910), remains to
Prussia ----------------------------- 1,926,140
Beer (gross 2,876,640), remains to Prus-
sia---------------------------------- 431,500
Total imperial taxes ------------ - 4,649,030
2. Taxes collected for Prussia, alone:
Tax on the grinding of corn. ---------- 1,750,000
Slaughter-house tax------------------- 2,526,400
Stamps (the taxes were reduced in 1872) 10,000,000
Prussia’s share in the German stamps -- 265,240
Tolls on roads ---- - - ------------. . . . 1,525,880
Tolls on bridges and canals------------ 600,000
Miscellaneous ------------------------- 678,450
Total taxes collected for Prussia.
alone.---- . . --------------------- 17,845,970
Total indirect taxes------------------------- 21,995,000
Lottery ----------------------------------------- 1,340,300
Naval commercial institution (Seehandlung) ----- ,500,000
Bank of Prussia -------------------------------- 2,002,000
The mint --------------------------------------- 344,000
Printing of the state----------------------------- 328,000
General administration of the finances (the prin-
cipal items of which are revenue of the old
treasury, 5,250,000; excess of the receipts 1871,
9,273,920) ------------------------------------ 20,169,650
Total of the collections of the ministry of
117,006,951
Receipts collected by the ministry of commerce
(of which the principal items are mines, manu-
factories, salt works, 29,958,548; state railways,
46,265,100)------------------------------------- 76,835,623
Collections of the ministry:
Of state (sale of the bulletin of the laws)--------- 41,750
Of justice (costs, fines, etc.) ---------------------- 14,005,000
Of the interior (work in the prisons, collections of -
the ordinances of the authorities, etc.)--------- 931,679
Of agriculture (product of the schools, of the *
Stud, etc.)------------------------------------- 1,055,480
Of worship, instruction and public health-------- 166,284
Total receipts.------------------------------- 210,042,767
PRUSSIA.
449
— Domains and forests. The state is proprietor of
1,148 farms or rural domains, comprising a pro-
ductive surface of 354,819 hectares, not including
a quantity of small properties or parts of proper-
ties, the area of which is not known, but which,
to judge from the provinces from which we have
returns, must surpass in extent 200,000 hectares,
and yield about 4,000,000 francs of farm rents,
and besides a sum of 10,000,000 francs of per-
petual rents, due by cultivators for lands which
were formerly abandoned to them. There are,
besides, about 3,000,000 hectares of state forests.
With the exception of a revenue of 9,649,121
francs, drawn from the whole of the domains in
favor of the crown, these latter were declared, in
1820, the property of the state, and pledged at the
same time as a mortgage to its creditors. What
remains of the revenues of the domains and for.
ests, after the payment of the income of the crown,
is devoted to the payment of the interest of the
public debt. The rural domains are farmed out
by adjudication, ordinarily for eighteen years, and
produce a farm rent, the amount of which rises
with the price of commodities. In 1849 an aver-
age obtained was 1 thaler 5 sgr. 7 pf. per morgen,
or 17 fr. 76 c. per hectare; in 1856, 20 fr. 40 c.;
in 1869, 34 fr. 56 c. From 1869 to 1873 the aver-
age was still higher. The rents fixed upon the
portions of land, and which we have qualified as
perpetual, must, however, be discharged by amor-
tizerment in forty or fifty-six years; they are also
redeemable, entirely or in part, at the choice of
the debtors. The amount of these redemptions
may be estimated at 3,000,000 francs a year. The
expenses of administration and other expenses
absorb about 15 per cent. of the gross revenue of the
domains, and about 47 per cent. of the product of
the forests. The expenses of the administration
of the forests are so high, because they include
the expenses of cultivation, of the cutting and
transporting of the wood to the markets. – Direct
taa!es. The land tax is levied in the different
provinces in accordance with old traditions. It
thus weighs very unequally upon immovable
property. To effect an equalization of the bur-
den, the laws of May 21, 1861, prescribed a new
assessment upon general principles, applied every-
where in the same manner. This distribution of
the burden was finished at the ascribed time, but
it operated only in the old provinces. The tax is
levied upon the net product of immovable prop-
erty. Landed estates not built on, in these prov-
inces, yield the treasury a sum of 10,000,000
thalers, or 37,500,000 francs; by adding to this
the product of real estate built on, which is
7,000,000 francs, the land tax rose in 1865 from
38,000,000 to 45,000,000 francs. – The tax upon
classified income and the class taxes (law of May
1, 1851) are personal taxes levied upon the income.
For this purpose tax payers are divided, accord-
ing to their incomes, into several classes, the
amount of income for each class being fixed by
law. The classification is made by commissions
of tax payers appointed by the communal author-
148 VOL. III. — 29
ities, so that, in fact, the tax payers classify them-
Selves. The tax upon classified revenue is paid
Only by persons with an income of more than
1,000 thalers a year, while the class tax is due from
all tax payers who do not live in cities subject to
the tax on the grinding of corn and the tax on the
slaughtering of animals (tax on flour and meat).
There is in Prussia an income tax, but this tax has
'a different name, according as the tax payer has
more or less than 1,000 thalers income. The rate
of the tax also differs; it is about 2 per cent. for
the class tax, and 3 per cent. for the tax on classi-
fied income. The term class has the following
signification: instead of demanding so much per
cent. of income, a poll tax is demanded, graduated
according to the wealth of the tax payer; tax
payers are, therefore, grouped into classes, accord-
ing to the amount of their income (for example,
1,000 to 1,100, 1,100 to 1,200, etc.), and poll taxes
are demanded proportionate to the income. The
result is, that for 1,150thalers income, as much is re-
quired as for 1,101, or 1,199. — The industrial or
license tax (law of May 30, 1820) is levied upon
the exercise of the industrial and commercial pro-
fessions. The different localities are, for this
purpose, divided into four categories, of which
the first three embrace the cities of a certain impor-
tance, while the fourth comprises all the other
communes. The first three categories are deter.”
mined by the number of the population; the local-
ities belonging to the fourth category are joined
together in unions corresponding to the circle
(kreis). The license is always a distributed tax.’
The contingent is fixed in a lump for a city or
circle; it is then divided among those engaged in
industry according to the importance of their
business. – The tax upon railways (law of May 30,
1853) is levied upon their net proceeds. The tariff
is as follows: when the income from shares is 4 per
cent. net or less, the tax is one-fortieth of the in-
come; when the dividend exceeds 4 per cent., the
tax is one-twenty-fourth for the excess between
4 and 5 per cent., one-tenth for what exceeds 5
per cent, and up to 6 per cent., and two-tenths
for the part of the dividend which exceeds 6 per
cent. — The land, class and patent taxes are col-
lected by collectors, who receive allowances for
collection, while the tax upon classified incomes
is collected by the pay offices of the circle (the
receivers of finances), and the tax upon railways
by the provincial pay-offices of the government
(receivers general). — Indirect taates. The customs
duties, the tax upon salt, brandy, malt, native Su-
gar and tobacco, coming within the jurisdiction
of the empire, we have nothing to do with here.
We shall speak here only of taxes purely Prus-
sian. — The stamp duties (law and tariff of March
7, 1822, modified in 1869 and 1873) are in part
fixed and in part proportional. To the first are
subject all instruments submitted for registration,
or which are presented to the public authority,
such as, passports, playing cards, periodicals, SO
long as stamps had to be affixed to them; to the
latter, unilateral instruments concerning objects
450
PRUSSIA.
of a value of at least 187 fr. 50 c., as well as in-
heritances, judicial acts, etc. — To the taxes on
the grinding of corn and slaughtering of animals
(law of May 30, 1820) are subject eighty-three
cities (the number is diminishing) of a certain
importance, designated by the law of May 1,
1854, and exempted, for this reason, from the
class tax, but not from the tax on classified in-
COIII6.
gates of the cities, and levied upon flour and meat,
whatever may be the form under which these
commodities enter the city. The tariff is 5 francs
per 100 kilogrammes of wheat, 1 fr. 25 c. per 100
kilogrammes of other cereals, and 7 fr. 50 c. per
100 kilogrammes of meat. The tax upon meat
may be replaced by a tax per head upon the cat-
tle which enter the cities. A third of the tax
upon the grinding of corn is given to the respect-
ive municipal funds. The share of the state
amounts to a total sum of 12,000,000 francs. A
great number of these cities have also been au-
thorized by the state to add additional taxes to
these. — The tax upon the cultivation of the vine
(law of Sept. 25, 1820) is not important. Wine is
subject to a duty of from 90 c. to 4 fr. 38 c.
(according to the quality) per eimer (70 litres)
of wine produced. It is charged to the pro-
ducer, and is, so to speak, a supplementary
land tax; it is therefore wrong to include it
among indirect taxes. – The tolls of roads and
bridges have been strongly attacked for some
time, but they do not lack defenders. — Other re-
sources of the department of finance. We group
under this designation the lottery, the bank,
the naval commercial institution, the mint, and
the general administration of the finances. The
first three, established by Frederick the Great,
have undergone many changes since. — The lot-
tery (law of May 28, 1810, and regulation of
May 1, 1841) is divided into four classes; it is re-
newed twice a year, so that there are eight draw-
ings in the year. The number of chances in each
lottery, at 195 francs a chance, is 95,000, and the
number of prizes, 34,000. The state collects from
this gain 15 5-6 per cent.; and besides 2 per cent.
is accorded to the collectors charged with the sale
of the tickets and the payment of the prizes. –
The naval commercial institution (Seehandlung),
instituted in 1772 to encourage maritime com-
merce (law of Jan. 17, 1820), is but an institution
of credit and of commerce, intended principally
to effect the purchase of salt abroad, and to take
charge of certain public affairs which require
commercial operations. This institution has been
often and many times justly attacked ; some
demand more publicity, while others do not wish
a banking house carrying on business with the
funds of the state. The Seehandlung having
many times controlled the issue of laws, it has
been said that it made a profit at the expense of
the state. Bergins, author of a “Treatise on Fi-
nances,” echoes this singular reproach (pp. 388,
389). Would people have preferred to see a
banker making this profit? For, what the See-
It is a tax on consumption collected at the
handlung gains, the state receives; and in this
case it performs the office of a public service, as
if it were a section of the ministry of finance.
We do not wish to defend the Seehandlung; we
are only trying to do justice to the value of an ar-
gument. Let us add, that the Seehandlung turns
only a fixed sum into the treasury of the state,
and figures only in the receipts, and not in the
expenditures. Certain deputies have demanded
that the Seehandlung should turn in, every year,
the whole of its gains, instead of increasing its cap-
ital by the surplus; but it would be perhaps better
to abolish that institution than to enfeeble it. —
The gross proceeds of the mint, from the coinage,
are an item in the receipts, and are absorbed by
the expenses of manufacture and administration.
— Collections of the department of commerce, of in-
dustry and of public works. These comprise the
mines, manufactories and salt works, the state
railways and the royal manufactory of porcelain.
The mines, manufactories and salt works of the
state are so numerous and so important that
their gross product amounted, in 1873, to: mines,
20,309,680 thalers; manufactories, 6,702,950; and
salt works, 1,674,660. There are also various
products which reached a total of 1,200,000 tha-
lers; in all, about thirty millions; but about 80
per cent. was absorbed for the expenses of exploi-
tation and administration. The state collects, be-
sides, a tax of 6 per cent. On the gross product of
the mines of individuals (law of May 12, 1854),
which has been for a series of years about 2,000,000
thalers. The manufacture of porcelain is a right
of the state. — In the railway system of Prussia
the following distinction must be made : 1, the
railways of the state; 2, the lines which have
been subsidized by the state, which, besides, as-
sumed certain obligations; 3, the lines to which
the state guarantees a minimum of interest; 4,
the lines acquired by the annexation of Hanover
and other territory; however, the budgets confine
themselves to an enumeration of the lines, indi-
cating separately the proceeds of each of them.
The net product of the railways, augmented by a
sum of about 5,000,000 francs, is applied to the
payment of the interest and the liquidation of the
public debt contracted for the construction and
acquisition of railways. – Collections of the other
ministerial departments. The collections of the
ministry of justice are the most considerable.
They consist of the costs of trials and of judicial
acts, and reach a figure large enough almost to
cover the expenses of the administration of jus-
tice. The receipts of the department of agricult-
ure are made up from redemption of Servitudes
and of other real estate burdens (consolidation of
estates), and of the revenues of the public studs;
they cover, except about 2,500,000 francs, the
expenses of the ministry. The receipts of the
department of the interior comprise fines, taxes
on passports, and the products of workhouses and
houses of correction. — Earpenditures of the State.
The expenditures of the state are divided into
ordinary and ea traordinary, or, to use the Prus-
PRUSSIA.
451
sian phraseology, into permanent and accidental
(einmalige). The following is the table of the
expenditures of 1873, corresponding to the table of
receipts given above :
ORDINARY FXPENSES.
A. Cost of collection and exploitation. Thalers.
Ministry of finance------------------------------ 19,451,025
To wit:
Domains------------------------------ 2,136,750
Forests ----------------------------- * - 7,562,000
Direct taxes--------------------------- 2,351,000
Indirect taxes------------------------- 6,883,500
Lottery ------------------------------- 24,875
Mint ---------------------------------- 278,200
State printing ------------------------- 214,700
Ministry of commerce--------------------------- 53,456,068
Manufacture of porcelain ------------- 148,000
Mines--------------------------------- 14,805,423
Manufactories ------------------------ 6,243,004
Salt Works---------------------------- 1,155,730
Other industries----------------------- 656,096
Total ----------------------- * * * * * * 23,008,253
Railways ----------------------------- 30,447,815
Ministry of state -------------------------------- 48,370
Total costs ---------------------------------- 72,955,463
B. Complements to the civil list.--------------- 1,500,000
Public debt (comprising therein 11,939,134) for the
debt of the railways ---...---------------------- 25,828,800
Expenses of the chambers----------------------- 307,800
Ministry of state-------------------------------- 547,611
Ministry of foreign affairs----------------------- 135,600
Ministry of finance ----------------------------- 31,566,005
Ministry of commerce (of industry and public
Works) ---------------------------------------- 11,508,981
Ministry of justice ------------------------------ 19,459,530
Ministry of the interior ------------------------- 9,766,396
Ministry of agriculture-------------------------- 2,796,043 |
Ministry of worship, education and health. ------ 10,022,017
Extraordinary expenses, divided among the dif-
ferent ministries ------------------------------ 23,450,239
Grand total --------------------------------- 209,844,485
The absence of the ministries of war and of the
navy, in the above table, will be noticed ; this
is because their services depend now upon the
empire, and figure in the latter's budget. The
council of Prussian ministers includes, however,
the ministers who direct these services. – The
dotation of the crown includes the deduction
from the product of domains and forests al-
ready mentioned, and which amounts to 2,573,099
thalers with the premium upon gold. This de
duction was decreed to the civil list, when the
king abandoned the domains of the crown to the
state, as a hypothecation in favor of the cred-
itors of the state (law of Dec. 17, 1808, law of
1810, and law of Jan. 17, 1820). This civil list
was increased 500,000 thalers by the law of April
30, 1859, and by that of Jan. 27, 1868, by a mill-
ion, so that the whole of the dotation of the royal
crown is 4,073,099 thalers, or 12,219,297 marks,
in the new German money. — We speak, a little
further on, of the public debt. The extraordi-
nary expenditures are applied chiefly to public
Works of all kinds, to improvements, to the re-
demption of servitudes with which the domains
and forests of the state are charged, to the im-
provement or extension of useful institutions,
etc. — Public debt. The events of the first fifteen
years of this century imposed upon Prussia a
rather heavy debt; it amounted in 1820, when
peace allowed liquidation to be begun, and regu-
lation to be undertaken, to 206,733,171 thalers
bearing interest, and 11,242,347 thalers of paper
money. A sinking fund was created; economy
reigned in the administration, and in 1848 the
debt was reduced to 122,942,765 thalers. The
events of the times, on the one hand, and the
construction of numerous railroads, on the other,
increased the debt, in 1858, to 225,776,838 thalers,
and in 1867 to 270,661,195. At the end of 1868,
after the addition of the debts of the annexed
provinces, the figures were as follows (the railway
debt being included in the total debt): .

IPROVINCES. Total Debt. Rºy
Thalers. Thalers.
The old territories -------------- 357,857,422 134,703,812
Hanover------------------------ 22,146,050 16,868,730
The electorate of Hesse--------- 15,406,500 15,207,600
Nassau ------------------------- 20,340,628 16,532,286
Hesse-Homburg ---------------- 181,429 |------------
Schleswig-Holstein ------------- 377,092 ||------------
Total ----------------------- 416,259,121 183,312,428
To this must be added 18,250,000 thalers of debt
not bearing interest, or of paper money. We have
seen above that this debt was 11,242,847 in 1820;
it remained at that figure till 1850. At that time
an issue of 9,600,000 thalers was made, which
brought the circulation up to 20,842,347 thalers.
In 1851 ten millions more were issued, but in
1856 the circulation was reduced five millions,
and in 1857 ten millions more, and it remained
15,842,347 thalers until 1867. — The debt of 1868
required an expenditure of 25,704,930 thalers, of
which 10,002,486 was for the railway debt. The
sinking fund in these twenty-five millions com-
prised the amount of 8,178,433 thalers. As the
construction of railroads continued, and as, with
every loan, the dotation of the sinking fund was
increased; and as, besides, the interest of the re-
deemed debts continued for ten years to increase
this fund, the burden was found rather heavy, or,
as was also said, the amortizement was too rapid.
Perhaps this state of things would have continued,
but, the year 1869 showing a deficit, the minister
of finance decided to propose a bill for the com-
Solidation of the debt. This bill, a little modified,
became a law Dec. 19, 1869 (“Prussian Official
Journal,” of Dec. 24). To understand this law,
we must keep in mind that all the Prussian debt,
which was composed of 115 different titles, was
subject to obligatory amortizement. There were
annually redeemed at the Bourse, as far as the
funds intended for that purpose would allow, the
funds (or rather, the capitals) the market price of
which was below par. As for other titles, they
were drawn by lot as obligations (the coupons
were numbered and payable to the bearer). The
consolidation consisted in the exchange of nine-
teen kinds of titles, twelve at 4% per cent., and
452
PRUSSIA.
seven at 4 per cent., for new titles at 4% per cent.,
the obligatory amortizement of which was sus-
pended till 1885, and is to be optional with the
state after that date. That is to say, until 1885
the titles of the consolidated debt can be redeemed
only at the Bourse, at the market price of the day,
and only by means of the budget surplus which
is especially intended for that purpose. From
Jan. 1, 1885, the government may resume the
amortizement by means of drawing by lot and at
par. To attract the holders of titles at 4 per cent.
a premium of 1 per cent. was offered them. The
operation was applied to a sum total of 223,436,175
thalers, which became reduced to 217,551,000
thalers, since 800 thalers of capital at 4% per cent.
were given in exchange for 900 thalers at 4 per
cent. The rest of the debt was maintained under
the former system. The operation, by reducing
the liquidation funds from 8,666,140 to 5,243,285
thalers, set free for other purposes the sum of
3,422,855 thalers. The consolidation, which trans-
formed the capital debt into an interest debt, was
so successful, that, disposing of the great surplus
of receipts, six million thalers for 1870 and more
than nine million thalers for 1871, and the 4% hav.
ing passed par, the minister of finance could ask
of the chambers the authority to resume, as far as
this remainder was concerned, the former mode of
amortizement. — We shall now sum up the situa-
tion of the debt on Jan. 1, 1872, according to the
report of the commission of surveillance, estab-
lished by the law of Feb. 24, 1850:
Debt bearing interest. Thalers.
Debt of Prussia, before 1866--------------------- 354,793,184
Debt of the states annexed in 1866--------------- 61,164,001
Total.--------------------------------------- 415,957,185
From these figures must be deducted the amount
proceeding (except 9,286,200 thalers) from rail-
way loans, the proceeds of which cover the in-
terest and liquidation of the capital employed - 196,858,145
Left to the charge of the state--------------- 219,099,040
Debt not bearing interest.
18,250,000
Paper money (CaSSénéchéine).--------------------
— In 1873 Prussia contracted a loan of 120 mill-
ions of thalers for the construction of new rail-
roads. *—IV. Army and Navy. Whatever may
be the interest which is attached to the organiza.
tion of the Prussian army, we can only relate its
history from the accession of King Frederick Wil-
liam III. In the first year of his reign, in 1797,
he laid down in a law, the principle of obligatory
personal military service; but this law contained
at the same time such a great number of exemp-
tions and privileges, that the service was exclu-
Sively confined to the lower classes. The misfor-

YEARS. Revenue. Expenditure.
1874 & gºod gºod
#} Ending Dec. 31---------- } §§§ tº
1877 (15 mos.) ) ſ|| 808,072,700 || 808,072,700
1878 || 657,520,344 657,520,344
1879 Ending Mar. 314 || 713,857,764 || 713,857,764
1880 | || 711,500,758 || 711,500,758.
1881 J \| 913,070,400 | 913,070,400
— The revenue in the financial estimates of Prussia, is divid-
ed under seven heads, representing the various ministerial
departments. Receipts from state railways form the chief
soupce of revenue, and, next to them, the direct taxes. In
recent years the income from railways and other state under.
takings, such as mines, has been largely increasing, showing
a tendency to become a far more fruitful source of revenue
than all taxation, direct or indirect. — In the budget esti-
mates for the year ending March, 1883, the sources of rev-
enue were given as follows:
Sources of Revenue.
1. Ministry of agriculture, domains and forests: Mark
Income from domains and forests------------- 73,128,214
Various--------------------------------------- 7,000,840
Total -------------------------------------- 80,128,554
2. Ministry of finance:
Direct taxes:
Land tax (Grundsteuer)----------------------- 40,188,000
House tax------------------------------------ 28,056,000
Income tax----------------------------------- 28,827,600
Class tax (Klassénsténér)---------------------- 25,146,100
Trade tax (Geweröestener)--------------------- 18,662,000
Railway dues--------------------------------- 2,986,000
Miscellaneous--------------------------------- 588,000
Total --------------------------------------- 144,453,700
Indirect taxes:
Share of imperial customs and taxes---------- 19,039,690
Succession tax (EröSchaftstener)-------------- 5,200,000
Stamps --------------------------------------- 16,500,000
Bills of exchange----------------------------- 70,440
Bridge, harbor, river, or canal dues----------- 2,200,000
Fines, etc.------------------------------------ 53,500,000
Miscellaneous--------------------------------- 2,051,870
Total --------------------------------------- 98,562,000
State lottery------------------------------------ 4,043,300
Naval commercial institution (Seehandlung)---- 3,000,000
The mint--------------------------------------- 236,820
Miscellaneous----------------------------------- 127,863,384
Total receipts of ministry of finance-------- 378,159,204
3. Ministry of public works: º
Mines, produce of.--------------------------- 60,160,148
Furnaces, iron mills, forges, produce of.----- 19,172,536
Salines, produce of.------- "- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 5,461,970
State railways------------------------------- 369,150,547
Miscellaneous------------------------------- 8,841,682
Total receipts of ministry of public works--- 462,786,883
* The estimates of public revenue and expenditure sub-
mitted by the government to the chambers are always pre-
pared to show an even balance, without surplus or deficit;
but in recent years the former has been constant, as a rule,
and the latter an exception. The surplus of the five years
from 1870 to 1874 varied from £1,425,000 in 1870, to £4,158,000
in 1872, reaching its maximum in the latter year. But there
were deficits in 1875, in 1876 and in 1877. — Up to the end of
1876 the finance estimates were for the calendar year, but it
was then decided that henceforth they should be, as in Great
Britain, for financial years ending March 31. The first finan-
cial year under the new arrangement commenced April 1,
1877, so that the preceding accounts were for a period of fif-
teen months, commencing Jan. 1, 1876, and ending March
31, 1877. —The budget estimates of revenue and expenditure
of Prussia were as follows, during each of the seven years,
1874–81: - -
4. Ministry of justice--------------------------- 6,596,000
5. € $ the interior---------------------- 3,592,383
6. { { commerce and industry---------- 298,603
7. { % public instruction and ecclesiasti-
cal affairs---------------------- 2,233,813
8. & & State----------------------------- 689,310
9. { { foreign affairs-------------------- 4,500
10. & & W8F ------------------------------ 667
Total estimated revenue -------------------- 934,589,917
PRUSSIA.
453
tunes which Prussia suffered in 1806 were the
cause of great modifications in its internal organ-
ization. It was necessary to supply the material
strength which it had lost by the creation of new
moral strength, so that the reform extended to
all públic services. Napoleon, having restricted
—The expenditure in the financial estimates of Prussia is
divided into ordinary (fortalauernde) and extraordinary
(éânmalige und auSSerordentliche) disbursements. The or-
‘dinary is subdivided into current expenditure (Betriels-Aus-
gaben), administrative expenditure (Staatsverwaltungs-Aws-
gaben), and charges on the consolidated fund (Dotationen).
In the estimates for the financial year ending March 31, 1883,
the branches of expenditure were as follows:
Branches of Ea:pendźture.
Current expenditure: Mark.
1. Ministry of agriculture, domains and forests- 37,080,230
2. & 4 Finance------------------------- 37,759,535
3. { % Public works----- -------------- 344,915,267
Total current expenditure------------------- 419,755,032
Administrative expenditure:
1. Ministry of Finance------------------------- 36,738,613
2. 6 & Public Works ------------------- 16,569,612
2 a. & & Commerce and industry-------- : 1,515,075
3. & & Justice-------------------------- 78,762,100
4. & & The interior--------------------- 40,402,367
.5. & & Agriculture, domains and forests. 11,314,550
16. & & Public instruction and ecclesias-
tical affairs-------------------- 50,623,067
7. { { State---------------------------- 2,967,792
8. & 4 Foreign affairs------------------ 500,570
9. & 4 War---------------------------- 107,472
10. 66 General administration of finance 127,074,410
Total administrative expenditure------------ 366,575,628
Charges on consolidated fund:
Addition to the “Krondotation " of the king---- 4,500,000
Interest of public debt, inclusive railway debt--- 87,094,613
Sinking fund of debt---------------------------- 20,480,094
Annuities and management---------------------- 1,914,641
Chamber of lords------------------------------- 171,360
‘Chamber of deputies---------------------------- 1,200,520
Total charges on consolidated fund--------- 115,361.228
Total ordinary expenditure------------------ 901,691,888
Extraordinary expenditure---------------------- 32,898,029
Total expenditure--------------------------- 934,589,917
— In the budget for 1883–4 the revenue and expenditure were
expected to balance at 1,089,583,000 mark. The expenditure
for the army and navy is not entered into the budget of Prus-
sia, but forms part of the budget of the empire.—The pub-
lic debt of the kingdom, inclusive of the provinces annexed
in 1866, was, according to the budget of 1882–3, as follows:
i A tiza-
ITEMS. Amount. mºza
Mark. Mark.
National debt bearing interest:
State treasury bills. -- ------------ 107,666,100 7,070,503
Consolidated debt at 44 per cent---| 526,827,150 ||----------
{ { “ 4 ** - - - 1,159,225,000 |- - - - - - - - - -
Non-consolidated loans------------ 88,694,100 | 6,995,498
J’reference loan of 1855------------ 20,850,000 | 1,545,000
War debt of the Kurmark and Neu-
mark --------------------------- 1,948 860 165,801
State railway debt----------------- 40,476,038 || 1:396,637
Debt of provinces annexed in 1866- 83,994,182 3,306,655
Total national debt bearing in-
terest ------------- --------- 2,029,681,430 20,480,094
National debt not bearing inter-
€St. : -
Floating debt, called “Schatz-Au-
Weisungen”--------------------- - 30,000,000
Total national debt.------------ 2,059,681,430
the effective force of the Prussian army in active
service to 42,000 men, certain illustrious generals,
like Scharnhorst and Gneissenau, and an eminent
statesman, the baron von Stein, consulted as to
the means of giving to Prussia the power and
authority which she had enjoyed before the war
of 1806. To accomplish this aim, it was neces-
Sary to increase, as much as possible, without
awakening suspicions, the number of soldiers,
and to thus prepare to be ready at the first sig-
nal given by circumstances. The royal ordinance
of Aug. 6, 1808, established a system, according
to the terms of which the regiments in active serv-
ice should discharge from time to time a certain
number of well-drilled soldiers, and replace them
by as many more, whom they should instruct, and
discharge again at the end of a given time, to re-
ceive an equal number of new recruits. In this
way, little by little, a drilled reserve was formed,
amounting to a total of 150,000 men. In 1811
dépôts of instruction, so-called, were organized,
whose real purpose was to increase the number
of active officers, in view of an imminent war.
These preparations allowed, in 1813, an army of
200,000 men of troops of the line to be placed in
the field, and the provinces organized an auxiliary
army, composed of able-bodied men who had not
served, called the landwehr, and which the prov-
inces equipped and armed at their own expense.
—The landwehr, springing almost spontaneously
from the patriotic ardor of the people, was pro-
claimed the fundamental principle of the future
military organization of Prussia. On Feb. 9,
1813, the king abolished all exemption from con-
scription, and, Sept. 3, 1814, a royal ordinance
established the new organization of the army as
follows. The land force comprised: 1, the active
army; 2, the first ban of the landwehr; 3, the
second bam of the landwehr; 4, the arrière-ban,
or landsturm. The active army is the practical
military school of the nation ; it comprises: 1,
individuals who wish to embrace a military ca-
reer and to pass the examinations for ensign and
officer; 2, those who present themselves volun-
tarily to satisfy the law; 3, able-bodied young
men, aged from twenty to twenty-five years,
without exception. (There are, however, some
cases of exemption.) The length of service is
three years under the flag; then the soldier, sent
to his home on renewable leave of absence, passes
into the reserve, of which he forms a part for
two years. The first ban of the landwehr, des-
timed to maintain the standing army, comprises
the soldiers who leave the reserve after having

The charges for interest and management of the debt
amounted to 87,620,651 mark in the financial year 1882–3.
Eor the budget year 1883–4 it was reported that a loan of
thirty-two million mark would be required. The interest on
the debt would have to be increased by eighteen million
mark; and it was expected, that on April 1, 1883, the total
debt would be 2,640 million mark, to which would be added
1,860 million, to be issued in treasury bonds, in consequence
of the nationalization of the railways. The total debt of
Prussia would thus amount to 4,500 million mark, or £225,-
000,000.-S. M.
454
PRUSSIA.
completed their five years of service; they form
a part of it for seven years, and are obliged to
present themselves at the musters and at the peri-
odical exercises in their cantons. The second ban,
who are charged with going to the defense of for-
tified places, are likewise subjected to a service of
seven years, but are not bound to take part in the
cantonal exercises, they are only reviewed from
time to time by the military authority of the dis-
trict. The arrière-ban, finally, are simply a home
guard. Thus was the army constituted by the
law of Sept. 3, 1814. A supplementary law,
published April 21, 1815, assigned to each di-
vision of the landwehr its territorial circumscrip-
tion, and regulated its division into (three) battal-
ions, and its general administration. — Such was
the primitive organization of the Prussian army.
Later, it was resolved to place the landwehr in a
more intimate connection with the line, by form-
ing brigades composed of a regiment of the line
and a regiment of landwehr. The line and the
landwehr had the same equipment, the same
armament, and officers of the line were detached
to serve in the ranks of the landwehr, and vice
wersa. But this fusion, instead of creating a
strong and rational whole, produced a system
which was in contradiction with the spirit of
modern times and with the exigencies of practice.
The line would often be despoiled, at a decisive
moment, of its best officers and under officers,
and besides be obliged to share its supplies with
the landwehr. In assembling the latter, the coun-
try was suddenly deprived of a great number of
workmen; the mechanic, the workman, and the
cultivator of the land, were snatched from their
customary occupations. Becoming Soldiers again
after an absence from the corps of from three to
six years, these men formed a body of troops to
whom the experience which arms of precision
and modern tactics demand, was lacking. —
These military arguments found their corollary
in reasons of equity and of public economy.
“Personal conscription,” that is to say, the obli-
gation of every Prussian to serve in the regular
army, could never be applied in all its rigor, and
had become an illusion altogether. Just as in
1848, when the population of the kingdom
amounted to 11,000,000, the annual contingent
remained fixed at 40,000 men at a time when the
census gave a population of 18,500,000; it was
afterward raised to 63,000 men. A drawing of
lots, introduced in 1820, liberated annually al-
most 74 per cent. Of the male population: a very
considerable advantage, if we remember that
those to whom fortune had not been favorable
(about 26 per cent.) were subjected to nineteen
years' service, while also remaining subject to all
civil charges. Cramped in their movements by
the obligation to join the army, they could only
with hesitancy enter upon certain careers, and
could, consequently, contribute only in a meas-
ure relatively restricted to the increase of the
nation’s fortune. On the other hand, the support
of the families, whose heads were called to act-
ive service, was charged to the cantons and
communes, which involved them in debt in an
almost insupportable manner. Finally, the di-
vision of the army into eight corps, gorrespond-
ing to the eight provinces of the kingdom, might
have had as an effect the distribution in an un-
equal manner, and therefore unjust, of the bur-
dens of all kinds which a partial mobilization of
the army imposes on a country. In such cases,
the province had to furnish all that it could in
men, in horses, in provisions, while the others.
were freed from all payments, and scarcely per-
ceived the agitation which reigned among their
fellow-citizens. Such a military system could no.
longer be maintained. It was necessary to change
the very long duration of service of a limited
number of the inhabitants to a shorter service
supported by a larger part of the population. In
other words, it was necessary to increase the an-
nual contingent, and to diminish the obligations.
of the landwehr, of which the year 1859 had
shown the weak side. — In this year, the king of
Prussia, while maintaining the officers and under
officers of the infantry, and of some regiments of
cavalry of the landwehr, sent back the oldest
classes to their homes, and ordered a supple-
mentary levy. In 1860 the government finished
the new organization; it at the same time pre-
sented to the chambers a bill, which the ministry
withdrew at the end of the session without its
having been discussed. The principal features.
of that bill may be summed up as follows:
Every Prussian owes military service from the
age of seventeen. The land force comprises the
standing army and the landwehr. The navy is
composed of the permanent navy and of the naval
militia. The permanent army and navy are al-
ways bound to be ready to enter on a campaign.
The obligatory time of active service on land and
sea is fixed at eight years. Of these eight years,
the soldiers of the cavalry pass the first four years.
in the regular army, those of the other branches
and of the navy the first three years, and those in
the train of the army the first six months. The rest
of the time they are on renewable leave of absence.
The landwehr and the maritime militia are in-
tended to sustain the army and navy. After the
eight years of service are ended, the men enter the
landwehr or the naval militia; one figures upon
the lists of these for eleven years, but in no case
beyond one's thirty-ninth year, and he can be
called to active service only in time of war. Young
men, fulfilling certain conditions of capacity, who
enlist voluntarily and equip themselves at their
own expense, serve for one year only, after which
they pass to the landwehr. This provision was sus-
tained by the law proposed in 1860, and which was
adopted despite the chamber. As for the present
organization, it will be found in the article GER-
MAN EMPIRE, the Prussian army and the German
army being now subject to the same law. —Navy
(see GERMAN EMPIRE). —V. Judicial Organization.
Offenses against police regulations are judged by
police tribunals, composed of a single judge, who
PRUSSIA.
455
can inflict a penalty as high as six weeks’ impris-
onment and 187 francs 50 centimes fine; misde-
meanors are within the jurisdiction of the cor-
rectional tribunal, composed of three judges;
crimes are tried by a jury. — The left bank of the
Rhine and some localities of the right bank have
preserved the French civil legislation, while al-
most all the rest of the monarchy is subjected to
the Prussian code. From this, differences in the
judicial organization of the various provinces re-
Sult. These differences may be thus summed up:
1. While the jurisdiction of the Rhenish tribunals
is restricted to the cognizance of litigated cases, and
while extra-judicial acts, such as wills, etc., are re-
served to ministerial officers, notaries, sheriffs, etc.,
these acts are placed among the prerogatives of a
special chamber of the tribunals, which unites
with the judicial chamber only to judge impor-
tant cases. 2. The Rhenish tribunals can pro-
nounce judgment only in case the matter in con-
troversy has been brought before them by the par-
ties to the suit or by the public ministry; the other
Prussian tribunals can act officially and without
the matter in controversy being so brought be-
fore them. 3. While in the Rhenish districts the
public ministry extends its surveillance over the
whole of the administration of justice, includ-
ing the ministerial, their jurisdiction is limited,
in the rest of Prussia, to affairs pending before
the tribunal and to matrimonial affairs. 4. In
the Rhenish province the execution of judgments
is made by the agency of a sheriff; elsewhere in
Prussia, directly by the tribunals. – A distinction
is drawn between the ordinary tribunals and spe-
cial tribunals. The former are tribunals of the
first resort; there are forty-six in the province of
Prussia, twenty-nine in Brandenburg, twenty in
Pomerania, fifty-three in Silesia, twenty-six in
Posen, thirty-one in Saxony, twenty-nine in West-
phalia, nine in the Rhenish province, etc. The
jurisdiction of most of these tribunals comprises
a circle (district, or arrondissement), the others are
established in cities of more than 50,000 inhab-
itants. Moreover, the tribunals of the Rhenish
province extend their jurisdiction over about a
whole governmental district. But the judicial
jurisdictions do not always correspond with the
administrative division of the country. The
tribunals of the first resort form twänty-six juris-
dictions of courts of appeal, from which the
Rhenish province, which has only two resorts
(like France), can appeal to Berlin, where the
Supreme court sits, forming a third, for the rest
of the kingdom. In the Rhenish province there
are 125 justices of the peace. It is the supreme
tribunal which settles the conflicts of jurisdiction
which may arise between the tribunals; the con-
flicts between the tribunals and the administration
are regulated by the tribunal of conflicts, com-
posed of the president of the council of minis-
ters, of some councilors of the supreme tribunal,
and of some functionaries of the administration.
— The special tribunals are: the tribunals of com-
merce, the judges of which are elected by the
chief merchants, and the conseils de prud’hommes
elected by employers and workmen; the university
tribunals, which extend their jurisdiction over
students, and which can inflict a penalty as high
as four weeks’ incarceration; the customs or fiscal
tribunals; the military tribunals (courts-martial);
finally, the tribunals charged with the regulation
of compensation due for the purchase of servi-
tudes. – To be a judge, it is necessary to have
studied law for three years, to have passed a first
examination, then to go through a stage of trial,
and pass a second examination both theoretical and
practical. Conditions of capacity less rigorous
are imposed upon prothonotaries and ministerial
officers. The latter are appointed by the minis-
ters; the presidents appoint the inferior agents.
The judges are appointed by the king; they are
irremovable, or at least their salary can not be
taken away from them, except in case of crime or
misdemeanor. Each tribunal has its posts more
or less well endowed; a person begins with the
lowest salary, and rises, by seniority and in pro-
portion as vacancies occur, to a higher salary. —
VI. Church and state. The liberty of Christian
religions has been established in Prussia since the
last century. Frederick the Great wished every
one to work out his salvation in his own way. The
code of 1794 recognized this principle in a solemn
manner, and the constitution of 1850 confirmed it,
and even applied it in a broader way by extend-
ing it to Israelites. This act expressly permits the
establishment of reunions for the exercise of wor-
ship in common. These reunions (or parishes)
from the time they are established, possess the
rights of a recognized private society, but acquire
the rights of a corporation only by a law. Each
religion administers its institutions as it wishes. –
The 24,500,000 inhabitants of Prussia were in 1874
about thus divided among the principal religions:
Protestants, 16,000,000; Catholics, 8,000,000; Isra-
elites, 320,000. The rest are divided among many
less numerous sects. The Catholics form the
majority of the population in the Rhenish prov-
ince, in Posen and in Silesia; in the other prov-
inces the Protestants are the more numerous.* —
The king is the supreme bishop of the Protestant
religion in Prussia. In principle the constitution
of 1850 gave worship its independence, but the
complete application of the principle of independ-
ence was not attained until 1873. It was limited,
* At the last census, taken Dec. 1, 1880, the Protestants
in Prussia numbered 17,645,868, being 64.69 per cent. Of the
total population of the kingdom, and the Roman Catholics
9,206,283, or 33.24 per cent. The number of Jews was
363,790, or 1.334 per cent. of the population at the date of the
census. There were, at the census of Dec. 3, 1867 (the last
in which religious statistics were ascertained in the fullest
manner) 9,317 Protestant ministers, and 7,690 Roman Catholic
priests, including chaplains. The Protestants at the same
date had 11,365 churches, and 1,594 other religious meeting
places, while the Roman Catholics had 6,164 churches, and
2,833 chapels, besides 259 convents and monasteries. The
higher Catholic clergy are paid by the state, the archbishop
of Breslau receiving £1,700 a year, and the other bishops
about £1,135. The incomes of the parochial clergy mostly
arise frºm endowments.--S. M.
456
PRUSSIA.
in 1850, to the separation of internal matters from
external matters. The former were confided to a
superior evangelical council (Olerkirchenrath) in-
dependent of the minister of worship, that is to
say, functioning side by side with him. Within
the jurisdiction of the superior council are eight
provincial consistories, which operate under its
authority, and which are presided over by the
superior presidents; they include among their
members a general superintendent, who represents
the minister of worship. The external matters
are administered, as formerly, by the minister of
worship and by the governments of the districts
(the prefects). In matters of a mixed nature the
ecclesiastical and the administrative authorities
deliberate in common. — The internal matters in-
clude dogma, the liturgy, discipline, the synods,
and theological instruction. The candidates for
the evangelical ministry must have studied the-
ology for three years in a university; they must
pass an examination, and are appointed by the
patron (the state or the possessor of the seigniory),
or elected by the parish. The provincial consis-
tories and the superior evangelical council are ap-
pointed by the king. — The external affairs con-
sist in the surveillance over the property, the es-
tablishments and the institutions of the various
churches, in the exercise of the patronate of the
state, which confers upon it besides a direct in-
fluence over the administration of these establish-
ments, over the appointment of the administrators
of the church lands, and over all that relates to
the material interests of the parishes. – The in-
ternal organization of the Protestant, or Evangel-
ical, religion, promised by the constitution, has
its foundation in the communal and synodal regu-
lation of Sept. 10, 1873, which established coun-
cils of ancients, and district and provincial synods,
as well as a general synod. These regulations
enter into all possible details, even to prescribing
that they shall commence their meetings with a
prayer. — The Catholic religion is much more in-
dependent of the state than the evangelical relig-
ion. There is not even a concordat. The bull
JDe Salute anºmarum, dated July 16, 1821, and ac-
cepted by royal ordinance of Aug. 23, 1821, is not
a treaty, although it was preceded by negotiations.
It settles the boundaries of the dioceses, it regulates
what relates to the election of archbishops and
bishops by the chapters of the cathedrals (with
papal approval), and treats of the endowment of
the sees, by right of indemnity for the seculariza-
tion of the property of the church effected in
1810. The state had reserved its rights, and no-
tably that of acting as intermediary in the rela-
tions between the bishops and the holy See. In
1840 the state abandoned this right. Article six-
teen of the constitution of 1850 abolished it, and
allowed the bishops to correspond directly with
their superior. — The bishops enjoyed in Prussia
very extended rights, and the government favored
them in a very special manner. But, although
the reason is not very clear, a conflict arose be-
tween them and the government in 1870, after the
proclamation of the infallibility of the pope, which
was about coincident with the Franco-German
war. The conflict threatened to become more and
more envenomed, the government demanding that
the clergy should recognize the supremacy of the
state, while the priests, and, above all, the bishops,
professed that the orders of the sovereign pontiff
took precedence of the laws of the country. To
combat the ultramontane spirit without meddling
with the internal matters of religion, the govern-
ment proposed and the chambers passed many
laws, of which the following is a very brief analy-
sis. – Law of May 11, 1873. This law applies to
Catholic priests as well as to Protestant pastors or
ministers; it exacts that every ecclesiastic appoint-
ed to a parish shall be German, and that he shall
have studied theology regularly, either in a uni-
versity or in a higher ecclesiastical seminary fur-
nishing an equivalent instruction, and whose plan
of studies shall have been approved by the minis-
ter. Before entering the seminary, or being en-
rolled in the university, the pupil has to pass an
examination to prove that he has made his hu-
manities. The professors of a small or of a large
seminary, although priests, must show their capac-
ity by an examination. In case of transgression,
the state can refuse the subsidies or endowments.
The ecclesiastical superiors (bishops, for example),
before proceeding to an appointment, must present
(make known the name of) the candidate, to the
superior president of the province, and wait thir-
ty days; if there is no objection, the appointment
may be made. Objection may be taken; 1, if the
candidate has not passed through the required
course of study; 2, if he has committed any crime
or misdemeanor; and 3, if his previous conduct au-
thorizes the government to think that he will not
submit to the laws of the country. The nomina-
tions made contrary to these provisions are null and
void; the state can keep back the salary of bish
ops (the German text says only, “of those who
appoint”), and inflict fines upon them, as high
as 1,000 thalers, if they leave the places vacant.
The above provisions have no retroactive effect,
only a delay of a certain time is fixed for foreign
priests to be naturalized. — Law of May 12, 1873.
This law regulates what concerns the discipline of
the various Christian churches. No disciplinary
punishment can be inflicted, except by a German
authority. It may consist of fines, of imprison-
ment (detention in a house of demeritants), or even
of recall; but when it exceeds a maximum fixed
by law, it must be approved by the Superior
authority, to whom a written decision giving the
reasons therefor must be submitted. An appeal
may be taken, in certain cases mentioned, to a
superior ecclesiastical tribunal, whose members,
to the number of eleven, are irremovable. — Law
of May 13, 1873. This law applies equally “to
all churches and all religions,” and forbids the
publication of internal disciplinary measures (ex-
communication, etc.). These measures must not
be dishonoring, under penalty of a fine of from
200 to 500 thalers, and of imprisonment for not
PRUSSIA.
457
over a year. There is question here of measures
taken against laymen; the disciplinary penalties
against ecclesiastics are regulated by the law of
May 12, 1873. – Law of May 14, 1873. This tells
how one may leave a religion (the law does not say
change a religion; its language is broader), and
regulates the civil consequences which may be
attached to this change. This law frees also an
Israelite landholder from contributing to the ex-
penses of the Christian religion. — A law of Feb-
ruary, 1874, established civil marriage in Prussia,
and various decisions recognized as Catholic, the
ecclesiastics who do not accept the infallibility of
the pope. A decree of the superior tribunal (July,
1873) declared that it did not belong to a tribunal
to distinguish between dogmas, and to decide
which are characteristic; it was sufficient for the
“Old Catholics” to declare themselves Catholic, to
be considered as such. — The liberal régime which
existed before 1870 in regard to convents and re-
ligious bodies caused these institutions to multiply
in Prussia, so that certain inconveniences resulted.
However, petitions were addressed to the cham-
ber of deputies of Prussia, and the question was
thoroughly treated in a report of the eminent pro-
fessor Gneist, of the university of Berlin (session
of 1869, document No. 221). We are obliged to re-
fer to that for the explanation and discussion of
principles, limiting ourselves here to giving some
statistical information borrowed from that doc-
ument.
No. Of
No. Of No. Of Novices
Stations. | Members. and Lay
BrOthers.
Religious orders of men------ 63 450 320
Communities of men --------- 32 267 65 .
Religious orders of women -- 41 612 312
Communities of women - - - - - - 690 4 497 867
Total--------------------- 826 5,826 1,564
Ample details will be found in the above men-
tioned report. By a decision of June 15, 1872,
the minister of public instruction excluded, for
the future,the members of religious orders from all
participation in the instruction in public schools.
The Order of Jesuits was, moreover, completely
banished from Germany by the law of July 4,
1872. For the continuation of this subject see
GERMAN EMPIRE. — The Israelite religion is not
subject to any surveillance on the part of the
state, which has also not granted it any subsidy.
It administers its affairs with perfect freedom.
The communities form generally recognized pri-
Vate Societies; some, however, have received cor-
porate rights. – VII. Public Education. The im-
portance of education has been recognized for a
long time in Prussia, and in the seventeenth
century the government took measures to extend
its benefits. The code of 1791 declared that
Schools and universities were public establish-
ments, which could be opened without the au-
thorization of the state charged with their surveil-
lance. This code was the point of departure for
quite a liberal legislation, which the constitution
of 1850 developed. “Science and instruction,” it
said, “are free; education for the young shall be
furnished by public schools. Parents can not
deprive their children of the degree of instruction
which the public primary school is charged with
conferring. All persons who can prove before
the authorities their morality, their capacity and
their knowledge, may teach or open schools. All
public or private establishments, whose purpose is
instruction, are subject to the surveillance of the
state. In establishing public primary schools, the
difference of religion must be taken into consider-
ation as much as possible. Religious instruction
is given in them under the direction of the churches
or religious associations (dissenting parish). The
direction of the external interests of the public
primary schools, in which instruction must be
gratuitous, belongs to the communes, which must
also sustain the expenses of their establishment
and maintenance. The state intervenes only when
the commune is unable to fulfill this duty, and
within the limit of the want. A law shall regu-
late all that concerns public instruction, and,
meanwhile, the existing organization will be pre-
served.”—Such are the principles put forward by
the constitution of 1850; the new law promised
by the constitution was presented Nov. 2, 1869,
but it was not adopted. Till it shall be otherwise
arranged, the primary (or elementary) School is
placed under the local authority, and its support
is in charge of the members of the School commune,
including all the heads of households, while the
political commune includes only the inhabitants
possessing a property or a revenue sufficient to
entitle them to be municipal electors. The heads
of households are required to contribute to the
support of the school in proportion to their
means,” not including the school fee due from
the parents. The expenses of building a school
house are charged to the municipal funds, with
subsidies from the lords or proprietors of noble
properties, if there are any, and finally of the
state. —But if instruction is not yet entirely gra-
tuitous, despite article twenty-five of the constitu-
tion, it has for a long time been obligatory. All
children who do not receive at home the prescribed
instruction must attend the primary School, under
penalty of a fine and even of imprisonment for
the parents.--The number of schools, of teachers.
and of pupils in Prussia, for the dates mentioned,
may be gathered from the following table:


In 1816. In 1846. In 1864.
Number of Schools---------------- 22,479 24,746 26,466
Number of instructors ------------ 25,045 || 33,332 || 36,656
Number of pupils to each instructor 51 73 80
* What is called gratuitous, is the abolishment of the
school payment, and its replacement by a school tax. Actu-
ally there is a mixed combination, which seems to answer
the purpose. Therefore the government has demanded, but
in vain, the repeal of article twenty-five, which prescribe
gratuitous education. -
458
PRUSSIA.
According to a table published in 1869 by the
Zeitschrift of the bureau of statistics, there were,
in the primary schools: 12.8 per cent.; in 1825,
13.5 per cent.; in 1828, 14.6 per cent.; in 1831,
15.2 per cent. of the male population. It re-
mained the same in 1861; in 1864 we find 16.9
per cent. For the year 1872, Brachelli estimated
the number of primary schools at 34,700, and that
of scholars at 3,650,000. In 1870 there were in
Prussia seventy-six normal schools, fifty-six of
which were Protestant and twenty Catholic. Since
1860, eleven normal schools belonging to the for-
mer religion, and five belonging to the latter, have
been established. — Secondary instruction is rep-
resented by schools of different natures and dif-
ferent degrees. The 204 gymnasiums (lyceums)
were attended in the winter of 1870–71 by 52,657
pupils, not including the 5,835 pupils of the pre-
paratory schools, which makes one pupil in 468
inhabitants (the elementary classes not included).
The thirty-three progymnasiums (colleges) had
3,443 pupils, besides 335 pupils of elementary
classes. The seventy-six realschulen (schools of
exact sciences) of the first rank had 20,026 and
2,620 pupils; those of the second rank had 2,950
and 1,002 pupils; the higher city schools, fifty-
nine in number, final examination in which enti-
tled the pupil to enter the military service a year
earlier than provided by law, were attended by
7,093 pupils, not including 1,818 pupils in the ele-
mentary classes; the twenty which did not enjoy
this right had 1,317, and seventy-four pupils.
The total number of pupils receiving secondary
instruction was 89,275 (the elementary classes
included); that is, one pupil in 276 inhabitants.
These numbers indicate those who remained till
the close, but, in reality, the attendance was
99,102 and 15,584; that is, 114,686 pupils, one in
215 inhabitants. – Superior instruction belongs to
the universities of Berlin, Königsberg, Greifs-
wald, Breslau, Halle, Bonn, Göttingen, Kiel,
and Marburg. Münster may be added, although
three faculties only are represented there. Pader-
born and Braunsberg have faculties of Catholic
theology (besides those which are annexed to
many universities). Berlin, Königsberg and Düs-
seldorf have academies of the fine arts, and there
are, in addition, agricultural academies, military
and naval schools, and other institutions which it.
would be tedious to enumerate. The universities
had, in 1873, about 8,000 matriculated students,
and 1,600 to 1,800 young men who are simply
authorized to follow the courses. In 1873 these
universities had 404 professors in ordinary (in-
cumbents), 166 extraordinary professors, and 241
privat-docenten (free professors); 50 masters taught
the languages, etc. — The surveillance of the state
over education is exercised by the minister of
public instruction, and the different authorities
dependent upon him. Such are the provincial
colleges (committees), the district governments
(prefects), and the school inspectors. The inspec-
tion is generally exercised by the priest or pastor.
In consequence of the strife between the state and
the church (chiefly, but not entirely, the Catholic
church), by the law of March 11, 1872, which
accentuates the right of the state to the surveil-
lance of instruction, laymen have been appoint-
ed, but they still constitute the minority. In
execution of the same law, a royal Ordinance
of April 18, 1873, made the opening of schools
or boarding schools depend upon an adminis-
trative authorization. It is not probable that this
authorization will be granted to religious congre-
gations. (See ministerial decree of June 15, 1872.)
— The number of professors, students, etc., at
the Prussian universities, during 1882–3, was as
follows:

- Attendants at Matri
Teachel'S. Students (Summer of 1882-3). Lectures j.
(Summer 1882-3). Stu-
UNIVERSITIES. t;
Total ºº:: Theology. Juris Medi- || Philos- || Total N§. Total cºlºr
OU al. ry Hºro- |− pru - Otjä,I. IIla, UT1C– ; 'L'Olyā, 1. 9–3.
#sº. Evang’l. Catholic dº. cine. ophy. ulated. 1882—3.)
Berlin --------------------- 241 68 385 || --- - - - - - 1,063 || 653 | 1,799 || 3,900 | 1,095 || 4,995 || 4,678
Bonn ---------------------- 128 62 96 61 299 186 507 1,149 41 1,190 973
Breslau -------------------- 123 55 108 129 327 352 616 1,532 150 1,682 1,495
Göttingen.------------------ 119 59 174 |------- 191 153 565 1,083 13 1,096 1,063
Greifswald ----------------- 66 35 105 ! ------- 57 344 153 659 11 670 662
Halle --------------------- 107 49 889 ------- 143 193 652 1,377 37 1,414 1,406
Kiel ----------------------- 72 39 66 ------- 47 126 142 381 18 399 354
Königsberg ---------------- 91 44 126 |------- i52 205 380 863 || 13 876 856
Marburg ------------- ------ 78 47 103 |------- 103 176 384 766 8 774 756
Münster ------------------- 33 17 -------- 116 --------|-------- 210 326 10 336 304
Total ------------------ 1,058 475 1,552 306 || 2,382 2,388 5,408 || 12,036 | 1,396 || 13,432 12,547


— VIII. Besources. Agriculture is very much ad-
vanced in Prussia. There is a rivalry between the
government, the agricultural associations, and
even simple individuals, to forward the progress
of agriculture and the raising of stock. Many of
the most illustrious German agriculturists, Albert
Block, Thaer, Koppe, are Prussians. The flour-
ishing condition of agriculture in Prussia, despite
a rather ungrateful soil and a relatively cold cli-
mate, is due to various causes; but, among those
which have exercised the greatest influence, we
must mention the abolition of Serfdom in 1807,
and the regulation, by the edicts of September,
1811, of the relations between the former lords
and their freed serfs. The point was to give to
these latter their share of the land, which they
had cultivated from father to Son, and at the same
time take into account the rights of the lords.
PRUSSIA.
459
The division had to be made amicably; and in
those cases where there was a disagreement, the
peasants, having the hereditary usufruct of an ag-
ricultural property, gave up a third to the lord,
while the peasants who cultivated on other condi-
tions gave up a half. These provisions could be
fulfilled either by actually giving up a half or
third of the land, or by preserving that portion,
and paying an annual rent in corn or in silver.
Special agents were appointed to put these ar.
rangements into execution according to the views
of the government (“ consolidation of property”).
The effects of this agrarian law were then com-
pleted by a series of measures, which bore their
fruits. We will cite but one proof among many.
In 1858 there were 762,157 agriculturists working
their own properties, against 33,218 farmers, mé-
tayers and stewards. To this number must be
added 421,544 heads of families, who carried on
agriculture as an accessory industry. — The area
of the kingdom is divided as follows, among the
different branches of cultivation : arable lands
and gardens, 50.1 per cent. ; meadows and pas-
tures, 18.3; forests, 23.1; total, 91.5 per cent. ;
lands not cultivated, 8.5 per cent. — The terri-
tory prior to 1866 (102,000,000 hectares) was di-
vided into 1,099,333 properties, of less than five
monºgens (in all, 2,227,812 morgems); 617,420 prop-
erties, of five to thirty morgens (8,428,751 mor-
gens); 391,596, of 30 to 300 morgens (35,918,017
ſmorgens); 15,079, of 300 to 600 morgens (6,048,222
morgens); 18,302, of more than 600 morgens
(41,117,312 morgens in all). The morgen is equal
to .8897 acres. The produce of the land does
not appear to be so high as might be supposed
from the advanced state of agricultural processes.
The average yield of wheat is estimated at 9
scheffels per morgen; of rye, at 8.60; of barley, at
10.75; of oats, at 13.25; of buckwheat, at 7.17; of
pease, at 6.50; and of colza, at 8.60. The average
production is 19 million hectolitres of wheat, 69 of
rye, 12 of barley, 55 of oats, and 176 of potatoes.
— The Rhenish province is superior in fertility to
all the others. It produces the greatest quantity
of wine; out of 500,000 to 600,000 eimers, 450,000
to 550,000 are produced in the Rhenish province.
On the other hand, this province is much less rich
in live stock; the provinces of, Prussia, Pomerania
and Posen are the richest in cattle. According
to the census of 1873, there were in Prussia
2,274,053 horses, 926 mules, 8,751 asses, 8,600,672
horned cattle, 19,589,624 wool-bearing animals,
4,272,901 hogs, and 1,474,586 goats. – Prussia is
rich in mines. The total value of production was
estimated at 59,312,950 thalers in 1867 (the new
provinces included); at 62,221,708 thalers in 1868,
and at 66,473,517 in 1869. By the aid of 110,168
workmen, 480,690,512 quintals (50 kilogrammes)
of coal were extracted in 1869; also 119,551,211
quintals of anthracite (by 14,912 workmen), and
considerable quantities of minerals (57,911,389
quintals), of stones, and other mineral materials.
The total number of miners was 188,606, having
to Support 331,476 women and children. In 1869,
ºt
four kilogrammes of gold and 1,633 kilogrammes
of silver were extracted. In 1871 Prussia pro-
duced 23,874,263 quintals of unwrought cast iron,
5,689,944 quintals of merchandise in cast iron,
1,840,159 quintals of sheet iron, 157,443 quintals
of tin, 1,091,042 quintals of iron wire, 3,664,064
quintals of steel, and a proportionate quantity of
bar iron. The importation of unwrought iron,
amounted, in the same year, to 11,849,410 quin-
tals, and that of wrought iron to 5,664,747 quin-
tals; the exportation amounted to 4,137,844 quin-
tals of unwrought iron, and to 6,357,001 quintals
of wrought iron. — The production of zinc
amounted to more than 1,200,000 quintals of un-
wrought zinc, to 350,000 quintals of carbonate of
zinc, and 350,000 quintals of sheet zinc.; that of
lead to 365,000 quintals; that of copper to 50,000
quintals. Nickel, arsenic and some other metals
in less extent are also found. — The textile indus-
tries are quite important, especially in the western
part of the kingdom. There were in 1861, 651,145
spindles of carded wool, 47,153 spindles of combed
wool, 398,071 spindles of cotton, 106,508 spindles
of flax. The number of looms was in all 190,715,
of which 30,392 were for tissues of silk and half
silk, 76,993 for tissues of cotton, 42,667 for tissues
of flax, 31,880 for tissues of wool or half wool,
2,315 for hosiery, 4,244 for ribbons, and the rest
for various things. In these figures are not in-
cluded 276,266 looms which are in operation only
during the intervals between other labors, and
principally for domestic wants. These figures
(which were the most recent in 1873) have much
increased since; and if we take into account the
annexations, they may be considered as having
doubled. — Among other important industries we
will cite the 254 sugar manufactories, which trans-
form into sugar twenty-five metric quintals of
beet root (1873), producing about 8 per cent. of
brown sugar; the 8,638 distilleries, which used
(1872) 5,800,000 scheffels (55 litres) of grain, and
more than thirty-one million Scheffels of potatoes;
the 8,326 breweries, great and Small, which pro-
duce beer, a part of which is exported. It is
proper also to mention the tanneries, paper fac-
tories, bushel making, and other like industries.—
Transportation by land in 1873 was facilitated by
13,680 kilometres of railway, and by an excellent
net work of highways and roads; the rivers and
canals are also numerous and well kept. — The
commerce of Prussia embraces, for exportation,
agricultural products (cereals, brandy, wool, etc.),
minerals, tissues, and some other merchandise;
for importation, above all, colonial commodities,
cotton and other materials and objects of luxury.
|Besides, almost all raw or manufactured products
figure upon the tables of commerce. It is not
possible, however, to give the amount of exports
and imports, nor the total value of the commerce
of Prussia, because its territory is confounded with
that of the Zollverein. (See this word.) We can
only know what has entered by the frontiers or
the bureaus of Prussia. The institution of the
Zollverein has been eminently useful to Prussian
460
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
commerce, as well as to German commerce in
general, and a part of its progress is due to it.
This progress, very perceptible already, can only
increase by the Suppression of the last vestiges of
the guilds (Zünfte), by the multiplication of asso-
ciations of credit, and the advancement of chem-
istry and mechanics. (Compare GERMAN EM-
PIRE.)* MAURICE BLOCK AND DE STE.
* The following table shows the quantities and value of
coal and of lignite (Braunkohle), the quantities in 1,000 tons,
and the values in 1,000 mark, in the various provinces of
Prussia during the year 1880 :
Coal. Lignite.
PROVINCES. Quantities Value, Quantities Value,
in 1,000 in 1,000 in 1,000 in 1,000
tions. mark. tons. mark.
Brandenburg-------|----------|---------- 1,695.2 4,118
'OBen--------------|----------|---------- 28.7 106
Silesia------------- 12,656.8 57,187 417.8 1,469
Saxony ------------ 35.1 313 7,436.6 || 23,289
Hanover ----------- 414.5 2,744 1.0 4
Westphalia -------- 14,871.0 67,816 ----------|--------
Hesse-Nassau -----. 100.2 919 167.4 830
Rhine-------------- 14,095.3 81,638 128.2 350
Total.---------- 42,172.9 210,617 9,874.9 30,166
The following table shows the quantities and value, in 1,000
tons and 1,000 mark, of the iron and copper ore produced in
Prussia in the year 1880: -
Iron Ore. Copper Ore.
PROVINCES. Quantities; Value, Quantities Value,
- in 1,000 in 1,000 in 1,00 in 1,000
tonS. mark. tonS. mark.
Silesia ------------- 669.4 2,355 7.1 50
Saxony ------------ 53.1 238 405.6 10,748
Hanover ----------- 385.8 1,010 18.1 681
Westphalia ------. 943.5 8,213 44.8 258
Hesse-Nassau ------ 620.0 3,807 1.5 59
Rhine-------------- 1,007.5 9,509 3.8 198
Total.---------- 3,679.3 25,132 480.9 11,994
Not included in the tabular statements given above are zinc
and tin ores, Salines, and other mineral produce. Gold and
silver ores are likewise found in Prussia, the quantities
amounting to 206,000 tons, and the value to 3,812,000 mark,
in 1880. The total mining produce of the kingdom amount-
ed to 577,304,000 tons, and the value to 314,936,000 mark, or
£15,746,800, in the year 1880. — The production of the most
important mineral, coal, in Prussia, after vastly increasing
for about thirty years, from 1840 to 1871, reached its limit at
the latter date, when there came to be an apparent exhaus-
tion of the fields. But the years 1875 and 1876 again showed
a large increase in production. The following statement
gives, after official returns, the quantities of coal, exclusive
of lignite (Braunkohle), raised in the kingdom during the
period from 1838 to 1880 :
Annual Aver- Annual Aver-
YEARS. age. YEAHS age.
Tons. —Fans-—
1838–41--------- 2,901,713 || 1864--------- 21,197,266
1842–46--------- 3,817,190 || 1869--------- 29,775,781
1847-51 -------- 5,027,690 || 1871--------- 32,843,288
1852–56.--------- 8,571,070 || 1873--------- 32,347,909
1857–61.--------- 13,037,015 || 1874--------- 31,938,683
1862 ---------- 16,903,520 || 1876, -------- 43.364,968
1863.----------- 18,330,779 || 1880--------- 42,172,975
The coal mines in the Ruhr-Düsseldorf district, which ex-
tend over more than ten miles in length, contribute nearly
one-half of the total produce, while the coal pits of the river
Saar, situated in the Southwestern angle of the Rhenish
PUBLIC DEBTS. (See DEBTs, NATIONAL,
STATE AND LOCAL.)
PUBLIC LAND'S OF THE UNITED
STATES. The United States has always been
favorably situated as regards land, one of the
three important factors in production. There
has ever been open to the settler an almost un-
limited quantity of rich and uncultivated soil,
On which he may locate, and take such part as
the law allows at a cost which makes it rather a
gift than a purchase. The economic effects of
this are too evident to require any extended
notice. It has permitted an unexampled growth
Of population without that pressure upon the
productive capacity of the soil for the necessary
food which is so marked in older countries; it
has offered to the inhabitants of the more densely
Settled countries of Europe an opportunity to im-
prove their condition by emigration, little or no
capital other than what is necessary to reach the
land being required; it has in this way attracted
the labor, skill, and accumulated experience from
those countries, and thus applied them to develop-
ing the internal resources of this nation, permit-
ting an advance in industry and commerce com-
mensurate with the extension of agriculture; it
has, in a measure, regulated the wages of labor,
maintaining them at a higher level than they
would otherwise have attained, not only by fur-
nishing an abundance of cheap food, but by offer.
ing to the workingman an opportunity of increas-
ing his returns should his wages in industry fall
below what he might obtain from cultivating the
land; it has made the United States the cheapest
market for food products, and has brought the
European nations to its doors for their supplies;
and, finally, it has made us a nation of landowners,
and thus not only a strong nation, able to assimi-
late the vast number of immigrants which an-
nually come to its shores, by giving them a direct
interest in the stability and maintenance of its
institutions, but also a nation in which a marked
distinction of classes is impossible, one man being
as good as another, and all possessing equal rights.
The laws which govern the transfer and disposi-
tion of property have also tended to produce this



province, and which extend their strata into Bavarian and
French territory, furnish about the sixth part of the coal prod-
uce of Prussia. The coal raised in Prussia amounts to 93
per cent. of the total coal production of Germany.— Prussia
has a very large and complete system of railways. On May
15, 1882, the length of the system open for traffic was as fol-
lows :
Length, in kilometres.
Railways owned by the state--------...-------------- 14,843
Owned by private companies:
Under state administration------------------------ 2,394
Under private administration--------------------- 3,745
Total ------------------------------------------- 20,982
English miles--------------------------------------- 13,048
In 1878 the lines owned by the state had a length of only
4,939 kilometres, while those owned by private companies
extended to 12,880 kilometres. – All the lines of the former
territories of Hanover, Hesse, and Nassau are owned by the
state, and the whole of the railways of Prussia will in time
become national property. — S. M.
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
461.
result, and “free trade in land’’ is almost abso-
lute. This, for the most part, results in placing
the land in the hands of those who intend to cul-
tivate and develop its productiveness, and thus
insures a rich return from it. — From the very be-
ginning, there has been an abundance of cheap
and fertile land. The original thirteen states con-
tained 341,752 square miles, or 218,721,280 acres,
but the claims recognized in the definitive treaty
of peace with Great Britain in 1783 increased the
extent of territory to 830,000 square miles, or
531,200,000 acres. Since that time the national
domain has been more than quadrupled. In
1803, 1,182,752 square miles, or 756,961,280 acres,
were purchased from France, and in 1819 a fur-
ther tract of 59,268 square miles, or 37,931,520
acres, was purchased from Spain. The annexa-
tion of Texas, in 1845, brought 274,356 square
miles, or 175,587,840 acres, and in 1850 a purchase
from Mexico added about 522,568 square miles,
or 334,443,520 acres. In 1850 lands to the extent
of 101,767 square miles, or 65,130,880 acres, were
bought from Texas; in 1853, 45,535 square miles,
or 29,142,400 acres, from Mexico; and in 1867,
577,390 square miles, or 369,529,600 acres, from
Russia. Since 1803 the total area of territory,
purchased and annexed, is 2,763,636 Square miles,
or 1,768,727,040 acres. As many of these various
transfers contained matters in doubt or in litiga-
tion, the results do not exactly agree with the de-
tails. – The greater portion of this land was un-
occupied save by Indian tribes, who subsisted
chiefly by hunting and fishing, and therefore had
left almost untouched the natural fertility of the
soil and the rich mineral deposits beneath it. The
original settlers who came to these shores took
possession by right of discovery, and claimed ex-
clusive title and possession for the governments
they represented, a claim which was, according
to the ideas then prevailing, good as against all
other individuals or governments. But the In-
dian tribes, which were at the time settled upon
the territory, also claimed exclusive possession
and occupancy as Sovereign and absolute propri-
etors. This possession was in a measure recog-
nized. “It was deemed a right exclusively be-
longing to the government in its sovereign capac-
ity to extinguish the Indian title, and to perfect
its own dominion over the soil, and dispose of it
according to its own good pleasure. * * This
principle, in the view of the Europeans, created
a peculiar relation between themselves and the
aboriginal inhabitants. The latter were admitted
to possess a present right of Occupancy, or use in
the soil, which was subordinate to the ultimate
dominion of the discoverer. They were admit-
ted to be the rightful occupants of the soil, with
a legal as well as just claim to retain possession
of it, and to use it according to their own discre-
tion. In a certain sense they were permitted to
exercise rights of sovereignty over it. They
might sell or transfer it to the sovereign who dis-
covered it, but they were denied the authority to
dispose of it to any other persons; and until such
a sale or transfer, they were generally permitted
to occupy as sovereigns de facto. But notwith
standing this occupancy, the Eurbpean discover-
ers claimed and exercised the right to grant the
soil, while yet in possession of the natives, sub-
ject, however, to their right of occupancy: and
the title so granted was universally admitted to
convey a sufficient title in the Soil to the grantees
in perfect dominion.” (1 Story Comment., p.
8.) This principle was adopted by the United
States, and its exclusive right to extinguish the
Indian title, by purchase or conquest, has never
been judicially questioned (Kent); and further,
no lands already occupied by Indians have been
thrown open to purchase or settlement until the
title of the tribes has been duly extinguished. —
The ultimate title to the land resided in the sov-
ereign; and when the colonies revolted, this title
became vested in the states. The constitution of
New York (1846) recognized this principle: “The
people of this state, in their right of sovereignty,
are deemed to possess the original and ultimate
property in and to all lands within the jurisdic-
tion of the state,” and the exercise of the right
of eminent domain is based upon it. With lands
already settled, and subject to private ownership,
the states also came into the possession of unoccu-
pied territory, as yet public property, which had
been in very general terms granted to individuals
or to associations by royal charters. This public
land was ceded by the states to the federal gov-
ernment, and formed the nucleus of the public do-
Imain. While the national domain contains about
4,000,000 square miles, the public domain which
has been acquired by the government of the
|United States, to be disposed of under and by the
authority of the national government, has amount-
ed to 2,894,235 square miles, or nearly three-fourths
of the total area of the country. — The title to this
land became wested in the United States, whether
it was obtained by purchase, cession Or annex-
ation. The federal constitution provides, that
“Congress shall have power to dispose of, and
make all needful rules and regulations respecting,
the territory or other property belonging to the
United States; and nothing in this constitution
shall be so construed as to prejudice any claims
of the United States, or of any particular state.”
(Art. IV., § 2.) But is this absolute? Would con.
gress have the power to dispose of the public land
in any way that...may appear good at the time?
In the short sketch of the history of legislation
pertaining to the public lands, it will be seen that
almost every conceivable method of disposing of
them has been adopted, but the United States has
never assumed the position of landlord (Save as
respects mineral lands, an experiment which ended
so disastrously to the interests of the government
as to be speedily abandoned). It has rather been
a trustee, to whose care the management of this
important trust was given. The deed of cession
entered into between New York and the United
States expressly provided that the ceded lands and
territory were to be held “to and for the only use
462
PUBLIC LANDs of THE UNITED STATES.
t
congress.”
and benefit of such of the states as are, or shall
become, parties to the articles of confederation.”
The cession of Virginia was made on the condi.
tion that the lands “shall be considered a common
fund for the use and benefit of such of the United
States as shall become members of the Confedera-
tion, * * and shall be faithfully and bona fide
disposed of for that purpose, and for no other
use or purpose whatever,” As regards the pur-
chased lands, they followed the same rule, as they
had been paid for out of the national treasury,
whose only source of income was from general
taxes levied upon the people of the states. The
United States was bound to hold and administer
these lands as a common fund, and for the use
and benefit of all the states, and for no other use
or purpose whatever. To waste or misapply this
fund, or to divert it from the common benefit for
which it was conveyed, would be a violation of the
trust. — The public land is held and disposed of
in the expectation that new states will be created.
The federal constitution recites that ‘‘ new states
may be admitted by the congress into this Union;
but no new state shall be formed or erected within
the jurisdiction of any other state, nor any state
be formed by the junction of two or more states,
or parts of states, without the consent of the legis-
latures of the states concerned as well as of the
In the articles of confederation the
eventual establishment of new states within the
limits of the Union appears to have been wholly
overlooked, although the possible admission of
Canada was provided for. Under the constitution
the power of congress is absolute, save for the
above restrictions. “The power to expand the
territory of the United States by the admission of
new states is plainly given; and in the construc-
tion of this power by all the departments of the
government, it has been held to authorize the ac-
quisition of territory not fit for admission at the
time, but to be admitted as soon as its population
and situation would entitle it to admission. It is
acquired to become a state, and not to be held as a
colony, and governed by congress with absolute
authority; and as the propriety of admitting a
new state is committed to the sound discretion of
congress, the power to acquire territory for that
purpose, to be held by the United States until it is
in a suitable condition to become a state upon an
equal footing with the other states, must rest upon
the same discretion. It is a question for the po-
litical department of the government, and not the
judicial; and whatever the political department of
the government shall recognize as within the limits
of the United States, the judicial department is
also bound to recognize and to administer in it
the laws of the United States, so far as they apply.”
(Supreme Court U. S., in Dred Scott vs. Sand-
ford, 19 How., 393.) — But land is not valuable
without capital and labor to make it productive;
though it is one of the important instruments of
production, it is not profitable when left to itself.
It must be improved and its fertility developed in
certain lines by the application of labor or the
results of previous labor. At first the public lands
were regarded as a source of revenue. “It is now
no longer,” said the Federalist in 1788, “a point
of speculation and hope, that the western territory
is a mine of vast wealth to the United States; and
although it is not of such a nature as to extricate
them from their present distresses, or for some
time to come to yield any regular supplies for the
public expenses, yet it must hereafter be able,
under proper management, both to effect a gradual
discharge of the domestic debt, and to furnish for
a certain period liberal tributes to the federal
treasury.” But in time the conservative policy
adopted in the first years of the republic was
gradually broken down, and the lands ceased to
be an object of revenue, and began to be disposed
of, chiefly with a view to settlement and cultiva-
tion. Originally selling only in townships, congress
has disposed of the soil in smaller and smaller
portions, until at length it sells in parcels of no
more than forty acres. Large grants have been
made without compensation to states, corporations
and individuals, for all manner of reasons, many
of which were of a very questionable character;
donations which could not but open the door to
abuses, and tempt dishonesty, jobbery and log-
rolling to secure them. The liberal policy of dis-
posing of the lands has been shamefully abused,
and the public lands have ever formed a point of
attack from those who profit by the meanest and
most corruptible characteristics of the legislator.
— In spite of fraud, the land policy has resulted
in making this nation what it is, as its greatness
depends upon the products of the soil. There is
still an abundance of rich land easy of access and
open to the first comer, and the wave of immi-
gration which floods the country proves to how
great an extent the privilege is appreciated. Cen-
sus after census gives evidence of the immense
development of the resources of the country; and
were it not for a restrictive commercial policy, no
nation on the face of the earth could attain the
wealth and power that this nation is capable of
securing, and no country could afford a better
field for enterprise. As it is, this is so now to a
great extent, but it is capable of almost indefinite
extension. The country is still comparatively
sparsely settled, and there is no necessity of offer-
ing any special inducements to settlers. The area
of settlement, population, and average density of
settlement, or number of persons to a square mile,
at each decade, are shown in the following table:

Av. Den-
YEARS. Area, of Settlement. Population. sity of Set-
- tlement.
Square Miles.
1790 -------- 239,935 3,929,214 16.4
1800 -------- 305,708 5,308,483 17.4
1810 -------- 407,945 7,239,881 17.7
1820 -------- 508,717 9,658,453 18.9
1830 -------- 632,717 12,866,020 20.3
1840 -------- 807,292 17,069,453 21.1
1850 -------- 979,249 23,191,876 23.7
1860 ------ º 1,194,754 31,443,321 26.3
1870 -------- 1,272,239 38,558,371 30.3
1880 -------- 1,569,570 50,155,783 32.0
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
463
— As to the future, I can not do better than to
quote from one of our clearest thinkers and writers
on political questions. “If you will think clearly,
you will see that what we want, for the future, is not
more people, but more land. If we should receive
no further additions of population from Europe,
we are now so numerous and so prosperous that
Our numerical increase will be very rapid. But
we shall constantly receive great numbers of Euro-
pean immigrants, and these, who readily adapt
themselves to our customs, are a welcome ad-
dition, and quickly become a part of us. For
their descendants and ours, it would be a great
advantage if we could secure still more vacant
or sparsely settled territory, provided that these
new lands were, by their climate and productions,
fitted for settlement by our own people. * *
Thus, as we want land, and not people, sound policy
tells us not to annex territory which has already
an independent and tolerably dense population,”
(Nordhoff’s “Politics for Young Americans,” 198.)
It would be impossible even to guess in what di-
rection further supplies of land must be sought.
Cuba and San Domingo have been thought of ;
and our relations with Mexico are becoming very
close, and American enterprise and capital are
going there. On the north the rich grain fields
of Manitoba and the Red River valley are being
occupied, so that there is little prospect of any ex-
tension of dominion with a view of securing unoc-
cupied land there. — More than twelve years before
the definitive treaty of peace with Great Britain
the question of boundaries had given rise to dis-
cord among the states, and it was due to their
jealousy that a public domain, as distinguished
from the national domain, was formed; the latter,
however, including the former. So long as the
colonies were subject to Great Britain, and were
governed, directly or indirectly, by parliamentary
control, the question of boundaries did not assume
any great importance, and whatever conflicts did
arise were, as a rule, referred in the last resort to
the king and parliament for determination, and
their decision was acquiesced in. Moreover, such
disputes were local in their character, concerning
only the colonies between which the dispute ex-
isted, while the other colonies remained indifferent
spectators to the confest. But when the colonies
became independent states, and assumed the con-
trol of the lands within their respective boundaries,
and when they came into closer political relations
with one another, in which extent of territory and
population exerted a great influence in determin-
ing the relative importance of the states, then the
question of boundaries and extent of royal grants
became a burning question; then it was that the
congress of the confederation was early forced to
take action with a view to settle peaceably what
might create feuds and threaten the disruption of
the already too loosely connected governments
which had succeeded the colonial administrations.
Prior to 1781 but six of the original thirteen states,
viz., New Hampshire, Rhode Island, New Jersey,
Pennsylvania, Maryland and Delaware, had ex-
bounties by some of the states.
actly defined boundaries. Within these geograph-
ical divisions all right and title to the public domain
became vested in the new states, and this held true
in the cases of those states whose boundaries were
not definitely determined. But here a conflict of
authority arose over the vast extent of territory
in the west. Some of the states, guided by grants
that had from time to time been made to court
favorites or others, claimed to extend to the Mis-
sissippi river; while others claimed to the Pacific
Ocean. As little was known of the character of
the country, the same territory had been covered
by more than one grant, and, being claimed under
two or more charters of equal validity, no real
determination could be reached, because the terms
of the charters were irreconcilable, and each state
was determined to maintain its claims. The treaty
of 1783 declared the national territory to extend
from the Atlantic ocean westward to the Missis-
sippi river, and from a line along the great lakes on
the north, southward to the 31st parallel and the
Southern border of Georgia. This area embraced
about 830,000 square miles, of which but 341,752
were included in the thirteen original states. –
The movement to secure a cession to the confed-
eration of the western territory, originated among
those states which had no claim or title to such
territory, and which regarded with a jealous eye
their more extensive and more powerful neighbors
which claimed to stretch across the continent.
And, when the articles of confederation were pre-
sented to the various states for ratification, this
question formed one of the IIlost difficult to solve.
Thus New Jersey ratified the articles only in the
belief that the candor and justice of the states
would in due time remove as far as possible the
inequality in size that then existed. In February,
1779, the legislature of Delaware memorialized
congress on the subject, and desired “that a mod-
erate extent of limits should be assigned for such
of those states as claim to the Mississippi or South
Sea; and that the United States in congress assem-
bled should and ought to have the power of fixing
their western limits; ” and the suggestion was
then made that the states should cede to the con-
federation such claims, to be a common estate for
the good of all. And in December, 1778, Mary-
land instructed her delegates not to agree to the
confederation unless an article was added pro-
viding for such a limitation of boundaries and
the erection of a public domain. Nor did the
congress itself refuse to take any action on the
question. For by an act of Oct. 30, 1779, the
states were requested to “forbear settling or issu-
ing warrants for unappropriated lands, or grant-
ing the same during the continuance of the war,”
a measure that was called out by the Opening
of land offices, and the granting of lands and
The first state
to take any decisive action was New York, the
legislature of which, in March, 1780, gave to con-
gress the power to limit and restrict her west-
ern boundaries, and furthermore, to assume the
title to all lands not included within Such bound-
464.
PUBLIC, LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
aries, and to use them for the benefit of the
states as it (congress) should see fit.— This resolve
of the New York legislature anticipated congress;
for it was not until September, 1780, that any
action was taken on the various instructions, acts
and resolutions that had been sent in; but the re-
port then presented forms an important point in
the history of the public domain. Without un-
dertaking to pass upon the merits of the policies
as expressed in the instructions or declarations,
the committee conceived “that it appears more ad-
visable to press upon those states which can re-
move the embarrassments respecting the western
country, a liberal surrender of a portion of their
territorial claims, since they can not be preserved
entire without endangering the stability of the
general confederacy”; and “earnestly recom-
mended to those states which have claims in the
western country, to pass such laws, and give their
delegates in congress such powers as may effectu-
ally remove the only obstacle to a final ratification
of the articles of confederation.” This report was
sent to the legislatures of the several states, and
was followed, in October, 1780, by an act provid-
ing for the acceptation and care of such unappro-
priated lands as might be ceded by the states to
the confederation, and for the disposition of the
same for the common benefit of the United States.
These measures resulted in Maryland’s ratifying
the articles, and in the acceptance by congress
of the cession made by New York. The earlier
grants made to the confederation were nominally
large in extent, but actually very limited, as they
were made subject to existing claims and grants
under state laws, and to extensive reservations.
The government formed under the constitution
succeeded to the title of all territory granted to
the confederation, and further cessions were made
to it, the last being that of Georgia, in 1802. The
areas of these sessions, and also the extent of the
public domain as it was on April 30, 1803, are
shown by the following table :
STATES. Sq. Miles. Acres.
Massachusetts (estimated)*------ 54,000.00 34,560,000
Connecticut (disputed) and west-
ern reserve and fire lands (esti-
mated) t------------ ... -----. -- 40,000.00 25,600,000
New York and MaSSachusetts ceS-
Sion (actual)------------------- 315.91 202,187
Virginia cession (disputed and un-
disputed) exclusive of Kentucky
and including area of western re- -
Serve and fire lands------------- 265,562.00 169,959,680
South Carolina cession------------ 4,900.00 3,136,000
North Carolina cession, nominal, -
because the area of Tennessee
was almost covered with reser- -
Vations------------------------- 45,600.00 29,184,000
Georgia cession------------------ 88,578.00 56,689,920
Total actual state cessions to the
United States for public domain 404,955.91 259,171,787
* This area was also claimed by Virginia, and was includ-
ed in her cession. .
t These western reserve and fire lands, amounting in all
to about 4,300,000 acres, were also ceded by Virginia. By
“fire lands” are meant such as were donated by Connecti-
cut to those of her citizens who had suffered by fire and
raids during the revolution.
— No further increase of territory occurred until
the purchase of Louisiana from France. The
question of the right to navigate the Mississippi
river had come before the congress of the confed-
eration, and while its importance was recognized, a
proposition was made to cede the right to a foreign
nation for a pecuniary consideration. Spain at
that time owned the Louisiana territory, and it
was natural to make the offer to that nation, with
a further hope that she would then recognize the
revolutionary government of this country. And
although such a resolution empowering the rep-
resentative of the United States in Spain to enter
into a negotiation of that character was actually
passed by congress, it was never acted upon. A
treaty was in 1795 contracted between this coun-
try and Spain, by which certain commercial ad-
vantages were secured by the former; but diffi-
culties between the two nations were continually
arising, and threats of closing the Mississippi to
all traffic were made. Spain had, in the mean-
time, extended her territory so as to include what
is now comprised in Florida, Alabama, Missis-
sippi, Louisiana, and a part of Texas and Mexico.
In October, 1800, by the secret treaty of San
Ildefonso, Spain ceded to France “the colony
or province of Louisiana, with the same extent it
now has in the hands of Spain, and that it had
when France possessed it, and such as it should
be after the treaty subsequently entered into be-
tween Spain and the other states.” The stipula-
tions of the treaty were not carried into effect
before 1803. The question of allowing Napo-
leon to gain such a territory in this country was
seriously and with no little anxiety considered
in and out of congress. The few years during
which the trading privileges had been enjoyed,
showed how important, if not essential, it was to
secure the free navigation of the Mississippi to
American merchants. And holding guard over
the mouth of that important channel of inter-
na] commerce, it was deemed too great a risk to
allow the territory to fall under the dominion of
a power with which other questions had almost
led to open war. During the years 1798–1800
commercial intercourse between France and the
United States was almost wholly suspended, and
the treaty of 1800, while settling old questions,
gave occasion to new difficulties which hinged
upon this very question of the Louisiana cession.
Mr. Jefferson early recognized the importance of
securing the right to navigate the Mississippi.
“There is,” he wrote to Mr. Livingston in 1802,
“on, the globe one single spot the possessor of
which is our natural and habitual enemy. It
is New Orleans. * * It is impossible that
France and the United States can continue long
friends, when they meet in so irritable a position.
* * The day that France takes possession of
New Orleans fixes the sentence which is to restrain
her forever within her low-water mark. It seals
the union of two nations, who, in conjunction, can
maintain exclusive possession of the Ocean. From
that moment we must marry ourselves to the

PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
465
British fleet and nation.” -— In 1802 the provin-
cial authorities of Louisiana gave notice that the
commercial privileges enjoyed under the treaty
of 1795 had ceased, and, contrary to the provisions
of the treaty, they failed to provide any means by
which, even in a modified form, they might be
continued. This action of the Spanish authorities
naturally aroused great indignation among the in-
habitants of the states bordering the Mississippi,
and on a remonstrance by congress the privileges
were restored. If was not until December, 1802,
that the secret treaty of San Ildefonso became
known to Jefferson, who at once took steps to
secure possession of at least a part of the terri-
tory, the plan at first including only New Or-
leans, the island of New Orleans, and Florida.
But Napoleon, who was at that time too busily
engaged in his attack upon England to pay much
attention to his schemes of colonization, and was
much pressed for money, would sell all or none;
and this was finally agreed to, the price named
being 60,000,000 livres, together with claims
amounting to 20,000,000 livres more. The treaty
of cession was signed April 30, and ratified Oct.
19, 1803. Spain at first showed a disposition
to oppose the sale, as by the secret treaty the
territory was to be first offered to her in case
France decided to part with it; but her objec-
tions were afterward withdrawn. By an act of
congress, March 26, 1804, Louisiana was divided
into two territories, one called the territory of
Louisiana, which in 1812 became the state of
Louisiana, and the other the district of Louisiana.
—Spain now laid claim to what was then known
as East and West Florida, under a cession by
Great Britain made in 1783; and this territory
now became a bone of contention, and continued
such till 1819. It would be of little importance
to trace the many diplomatic attempts that were
made to settle this question, or to trace in detail
the various measures that were undertaken both
by the national and state governments (notably
that of Georgia) to take possession peacefully or
by force of arms. Congress even went so far as
to occupy and hold the territory in dispute under
secret resolutions passed in 1811, but not made
known till 1817. In 1817, under pretext of Indian
outrages, congress ordered Gen. Jackson to obtain
redress, and he construed his orders to mean the
acquisition of Florida. His action brought mat-
ters to a crisis, and in February, 1819, a treaty
of cession was signed, but was not ratified and
proclaimed until 1821. The boundaries of the
ceded territory were in doubt, owing to difficul-
ties between Mexico and Spain, which prevented
the latter from fulfilling her part of the treaty,
and they were only determined by a treaty en-
tered into between Mexico and the United States
in 1828. The total cost of the Florida cession, in
bonds and interest, was $6,489,768. — The ques-
tion of the annexation of Texas was intimately
connected with that of the extension of the slave
power, and with the rapidly increasing interests
of the nation in the Pacific states. Since 1821 the
149 VOL. III. — 30
United States of Mexico had been independent of
Spanish rule, and in 1826 some American immi-
grants at Nacogdoches declared Texas independ-
ent of Mexico, and in the following year Coahuila
and Texas, the northeastern provinces of Mexico,
framed a constitution. In the same year Mr. Clay
instructed the minister of the United States in
Mexico, J. R. Poinsett, to offer $1,000,000 for
Mexico's territory east of the Rio Grande, but
Poinsett never carried out his instructions, plead-
ing the danger of irritating Mexico by an offer
that was sure to be rejected. Meantime Mexico
had abolished slavery in her territory, and thus
the slaveholding states found themselves flanked
north and south by free states, and the extent of
territory from which future slave states could be
formed limited. There had been a free move-
ment of migration between the two nations, and
many slaveholders had crossed the border with
their slaves, and were now met by the abolition of
all slavery. The curious plea was then urged that
the United States should reannex the territory of
Texas, and, owing to the very indefinite boundary
lines, this plea could be supported. In 1829, a
second attempt, made by Van Buren, to purchase
all the territory east of the Nueces river, failed,
and in the next few years the Mexicans passed
laws prohibiting immigration, which had no ef-
fect. In 1835, after the failure of Santa Anna to
extend his power over Texas, Jackson made a
third offer, and wished the boundary line to fol-
low the Rio Grande up to the thirty-seventh par-
allel, and thence on that parallel to the Pacific.
The defeat of the Mexicans by the Texans brought
matters to a head, and in March, 1836, the con-
stitution of Texas was adopted, and annexation
to this country regarded as almost inevitable.
Although this scheme of annexation was rejected
by the senate in 1844 (16 yeas to 35 nays), in 1845
Texas was admitted as a state. It is noteworthy
that the United States never owned public lands
in Texas itself; the state retained the disposition
of her own lands, opened a land office, made
grants to railroads, and for other purposes, and
had her own settlement laws. – In the meantime
the desirableness of acquiring California and other
Pacific states was being agitated. By purchase
or cession the United States claimed all of what
is now comprised in its present boundaries, Save
California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, and the west-
ern portions of New Mexico and Colorado, which
were still under the rule of Mexico. Russia was
making settlements in California, and agents of
Bngland and France were preparing to take steps
preliminary to annexing the territory to one of
their respective nationalities. Great Britain even
had a fleet in the Pacific, for the purpose, it was
said, of seizing California as an equivalent for
the Mexican debt, due to British subjects. Nor
was the United States idle. Jackson, as has
been seen, attempted to purchase a part, and the
expeditions of Wilkes and Fremont created a de-
sire to secure the whole. In 1845 Mr. Buchanan
made an offer to purchase, but it was rejected.
466
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
In 1846 congress declared that “war existed by
the act of Mexico,” and there is every reason to
believe that this war was intended to secure Cal-
ifornia, as the possession of Texas even to the
Rio Grande could have been obtained without it.
The war was successful, and in 1848 all the states
named were obtained by treaty ; and in 1853,
by the Gadsden treaty, a further strip of territory
to make a more regular boundary between the
United States and Mexico, was secured. Both
of these cessions became public domain. — The
final acquisition of territory was made in 1867,
When Alaska was purchased from Russia at a
cost of $7,200,000. These lands have not as
yet been surveyed nor opened to settlement. —
The manner of disposing of these public domains
should be noticed. In many cases they were ob-
tained subject to grants made previous to the
cession, express stipulations being found in the
treaties that such grants should remain good.
The public lands proper were received by the
United States in trust, to be disposed of for the
common benefit of the United States, to be “grant-
ed at such time and under such regulations as
shall hereafter be agreed upon by the United
States in congress assembled, or any nine or more
of them.” The public domain is thus under the
control of congress. Until 1812, the secretary of
the treasury acted as the agent in the sale or dis-
position of the public lands; and when in that
year the office of the commissioner of the general
land office was created, it remained a bureau of
the treasury department, the commissioner being
subordinated to the secretary. In 1836 this bu-
reau was reorganized, still, however, remaining a
part of the treasury; but in 1846, on the creation
of the home or interior department, the bureau of
public lands was very properly transferred to and
made part of the new executive department. This
bureau is charged with the surveying and disposal
of the public lands of the United States. – But
as yet all lands are not in the market. Before the
land is opened up for settlement it must be sur-
veyed, and since 1876 only certain qualities of
lands are surveyed by the government. These
lands include: 1, those adapted to agriculture
without artificial irrigation; 2, irrigable lands, or
such as can be redeemed, and for which there is
sufficient accessible water for the reclamation and
cultivation of the same, not otherwise utilized or
claimed; 3, timber lands, bearing timber of com-
mercial value; 4, coal lands, containing coal of com-
mercial value; 5, exterior boundary of town sites;
and 6, private land claims. As soon as congress
authorizes the extension of surveys over a district
of country, the commissioner of the general land
office directs the district surveyor to see that the
work is performed. There are at present (1882)
sixteen surveying districts, each in charge of a
Surveyor general, with a corps of assistants and
deputies. All Surveys are made in triplicate.
The original is temporarily retained in the office
of the surveyor, to be ultimately delivered to the
State government; the duplicate is sent to the local
land office, where it is used in disposing of the
land; and the third copy is sent to the commis-
sioner at Washington, for the information of the
government. — The manner of surveying public
lands is uniform, and has been so since the com-
mittee of congress, of which Mr. Jefferson was
the chairman, adopted in 1785 the rectangular
system. The committee, in their report, recom-
mended that all public lands should be divided in
hundreds of ten miles square, each hundred to be
subdivided into plots of one mile square, these
plots to be numbered from one to one hundred.
On motion of Mr. Monroe, the township (hundred
in the report) was reduced to six miles Square;
and each subdivision was to be one mile Square,
thus containing 640 acres. This was the system
adopted. In the survey, a base line and meridian
line are first determined, and from the base line
townships of six miles Square are established and
numbered, counting north and south. From the
surveying meridians, ranges (the subdivisions of
the township) one mile Square are mapped out
and numbered both east and west of the principal
meridian. The location of even a part of a sec-
tion is thus a simple matter; and the purchaser
who receives a description of his land as the
“Southwest quarter of Section 20, Township 30,
north, Range 1 east of the third principal merid-
ian,” would have no difficulty to locate his pur-
chase on the survey map, and as some boundary
marks are always placed at the intersection of
divisional lines, his lot would be easily found. It
is the simplicity of this system that has recom-
mended its use, and so well has it served its pur-
pose that little change has been made in it since
it was first introduced into use, nearly a century
ago. The first principal meridian that was estab-
lished was the line dividing Ohio and Indiana,
having for its base the Ohio river, and being coin-
cident with 84° 51' of longitude west of Green-
wich. This line governs all surveys of publig
lands in Ohio. A meridian line may govern the
surveys in more than one state. Thus the sixth
principal meridian, which coincides with longi-
tude 97° 22' west from Greenwich, controls the
surveys in Kansas, Nebraska, that part of Dakota
lying south and west of the Missouri river, Wyo-
ming, and Colorado, excepting the valley of the
Rio Grande del Norte, in southwestern Colorado,
where the surveys are governed by another me-
ridian line. Since 1785, twenty-four initial points
(the intersection of principal bases with surveying
meridians) have been used in the public Surveys.
—The manner of surveying mineral lands differed
in no way from that employed in agricultural and
timber lands up to 1866. The lead, copper and
other mineral districts of Iowa, Michigan Minne-
sota, Wisconsin and Missouri, were Surveyed un-
der the rectangular system, and when sold the soil
carried with it the mineral deposits. In 1866
mineral survey districts were formed, and the
extent of ground that could be claimed was lim-
ited to not exceeding 200 feet in length for each
individual (with one additional claim for discov-
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
467
ery), the width of the claim being regulated by
local custom. In no case, however, could a loca-
tion by an association of individuals exceed 3,000
feet. In 1872 the mineral survey districts were
discontinued, and surveys are now made by dep-
uties under the surveyor-general of the district.
In all cases the claimants bear the expense of the
Survey, and mining claims may be formed from
the public lands, whether surveyed or not. — Sev-
eral qualities of lands are noticed in the laws.
Mineral. Lands valuable for minerals are re-
served from sale except as otherwise expressly
directed by law. Such lands, whether surveyed
or unsurveyed, are open to exploration and pur-
chase by citizens of the United States, or those
who have declared their intention to become such.
The law covers claims for lands bearing gold, sil-
ver, cinnabar, lead, tin, copper, or other valuable
deposits, and titles to such claims may be secured
from the United States under the existing laws at
$5 per acre. No vein or lode claim can exceed a
parallelogram 1,500 feet in length by 600 in width,
but the size of a claim below this maximum is
governed by state laws or the rules of the mining
district. No state or territorial law can limit a
claim, located since May 10, 1872, to less than
1,500 feet in length by 50 feet in width, unless
rendered necessary by existing rights, so that the
maximum claim under the United States law is
about 20.66 acres, and the minimum 1.72 acres.
Costs of survey, etc., are paid by the claimants.
Placer locations are sold for $2.50 per acre, and
can not exceed twenty acres for one person; no
location by an association can exceed twenty acres
for each person. Coal lands. The act of March
3, 1873, gave a pre-emption right of 160 acres of
coal land to a person, and 320 acres to an associa-
tion, upon payment of not less than $10 per acre,
where the lands lie more than fifteen miles from
a completed railroad, and $20 per acre where the
lands lie within fifteen miles of such a road; and
further provided that when any association of not
less than four persons have expended $5,000 in
working and improving any mine, located within
limits as above, they may make an additional entry
of 640 acres at the several limit prices. Lands that
are valuable chiefly for timber and stone, and are
unfit for cultivation, are sold for $2.50 per acre.
Only citizens, or those who have declared their
intention of becoming such, can secure the bene-
fits of this law, and no one person or association
of persons can enter more than 160 acres of such
land. Saline lands, or lands on which are situated
any known salines or mines, are first offered at
public sale to the highest bidder at a price of not
less than $1.25 per acre; and if not then sold are
subject to private sale at a price not less than $1.25
per acre in the same manner as other public lands
are sold. Town site lands. The laws relating to
this subject are very liberal, and not only provide
for the entry of land already settled upon for pur-
poses of trade, for the benefit of the citizens of the
town, but also provide for the selection and reser-
vation of land, whether surveyed or unsurveyed,
for town sites “on the shores of harbors, at the
junction of rivers, important portages, or natural
or prospective centres of population,” in advance
of its settlement or of the surrounding country.
There are two methods of acquiring a title to town
sites: 640 acres may be laid off into lots, and a
copy is filed in the office of the recorder of the
county in which the town is situated, or in the
general land office. The lots (not to exceed 4,200
square feet) are then offered at public sale to the
highest bidder at a price not less than $10 per
acre; whatever is not thus disposed of is subject
to entry at this minimum price. Or, the United
States may grant to the inhabitants of cities and
towns, through the corporate authorities of said
cities or towns, or the judges of the county courts
acting as trustees for the Occupants, the privilege
of entering lands occupied as town sites at a min-
imum price of $1.25 per acre. The quantity of
land allowed varies with the number of inhabit-
ants. If more than 100 and less than 200, 320
acres form the maximum; if more than 200 and
less than 1,000, 640 acres; if over 1,000, 1,280
acres, and for each additional 1,000 up to 5,000, a
further quantity of 320 acres is allowed. Desert
lands, which are unfit in their existing condition
for cultivation, may be entered by any citizen to
the extent of 640 acres, on a payment of twenty-
five cents per acre, and the filing of a sworn state-
ment that the buyer intends to reclaim the tract
within three years from the date of entry by con-
ducting water thereon. If he fulfills this condition
he obtains a full title to the land on the further
payment of $1 per acre. All other lands are
known as agricultural lands, and are taken in
tracts of from 40 to 160 acres under the pre-emp-
tion, homestead and timber-culture acts, or pur-
chased at public sale or private entry. There are
two classes of agricultural lands; the one class,
situated within prescribed limits of works of in-
ternal improvements, is held at $2.50 per acre,
and is designated as double minimum; the other
class is minimum land, and is sold for $1.25 per
acre. Any person who is the head of a family, a
widow or single man over twenty-one years of
age, a citizen of the United States or about to be-
come such, who does not own 320 acres of land
within the United States, and has not abandoned
his land in any state or territory in order to re-
side upon the public lands, may take advantage
of the pre-emption laws. Such a person may, on
payment of a fee for registering the claim, occupy
for a limited period a tract of not less than 40 nor
more than 160 acres of land, with the obligation of
paying to the United States at the end of that
period $1.25 per acre, when a patent for the land
is given him. Credit of from twelve to thirty-
three months is given to the pre-emptor by resi-
dence on the land, and it must be shown that the
settlement is made for the exclusive use and bene-
fit of the pre-emptor, and not for purposes of sale
or speculation. The essence of the homestead
law and the amendments is embodied in the con-
ditions of actual settlement, dwelling on and cul-
468
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES. :
tivation of the Soil embraced in an entry. It gives
for a nominal fee, equal to $34 on the Pacific
coast and $26 in the other states, to a settler—a
man or woman over the age of twenty-one years,
a citizen of the United States or having declared
an intention of becoming such—the right to locate
upon 160 acres of unoccupied public land in any
of the public land states and territories subject to
entry at a United States land office, to live upon
the same for a period of five years, and, upon
proof of a compliance with the law, to receive a
patent therefor free of cost or charge for the land.
But to obtain a final title full citizenship is re-
quired. Under the timber-culture act a person
may enter from 40 to 160 acres of land. One-
fourth part of the tract entered must be devoted to ,
timber for eight years; after eight years, on suit-
able proof that the necessary conditions have been
complied with, a patent will be issued. A clause
in the homestead act (Rev. Stat., § 2317) also offers
a bounty for planting timber. All lands to be
sold must be offered at public sale before they
may be entered at private sale. (See the Revised
Statutes, §§ 2207–2490.) — History. As soon as
the cessions of lands had been made by the states,
congress took steps to determine the manner of
disposing of them, a task that was far from easy.
Many of these cessions were burdened with claims
which must be passed upon before the lands could
be sold. For example: Virginia in her act of ces-
sion expressly reserved the right to enter upon the
lands in case they should be needed to fulfill the
obligations of the state in respect to military
bounties. The cession of North Carolina was
subject to a great variety of claims, and the act of
session contained as many as ten conditions. The
result was, that, when the Indian title was extin-
guished, the North Carolina claims absorbed the
greater part of the eligible lands, and what was
left was in 1841 given to Tennessee; while that of
Georgia was complicated by the famous “Yazoo
claims,” which proved in the end a very costly
experience for the government. Even the lands
purchased from foreign powers were not absolute-
ly free. Much of the land (and this holds true of
lands ceded by the states) was already occupied by
Indians. Could they be ousted by the first comers,
and deprived of their holdings without any com-
pensation? By right of discovery and of conquest
it was claimed that an absolute title to the land
became vested in the crown; but this title was
made subject to the Indian right of occupancy,
which could be extinguished by the crown alone.
The federal government, on acquiring the title to
these lands, without looking into the justice of
the original claim, recognized this condition, and
before even attempting to survey and dispose of
such lands, it has purchased the occupancy right
of the Indians for a sum greater than the use of
the lands is worth to them. The only exceptions
to this practice have been where rebellious tribes
have been put down, and, as a price of peace, com-
pelled to part with the lands they occupied. In
addition to Indian titles, the lands were subject to
rule of France and of Spain.
grants made by the former rulers, and large por-
tions had been successively under the sway of
several foreign powers: what is now Michigan,
Indiana and Illinois, belonged first to France, and
then to England; a part of Mississippi had passed
through periods of French, English and Spanish
possession; while Louisiana had acknowledged the
To quiet the claims
that had arisen under these various governments,
congress created eight boards of commissioners,
to examine into all claims, reject such as were un-
founded or fraudulent, and confirm such as were
just; and also to secure in their possessions all the
actual settlers who were found on the land when
the United States took actual possession, although
they had only a right of occupancy. (Gallatin.)—
The early steps to dispose of this public domain
were tentative, and it was many years.before they
led up to a well-considered and efficient system.
Under the confederation an Ordinance in 1785 di-
rected the secretary of war to draw by lot certain
townships in the surveyed portion for bounties to
the continental army, and the remainder was to be
drawn by lot by the board of treasury in the name
of the western states, to be sold by them at public
sale at not less than “one dollar per acre, paya-
ble in specie, or loan office certificates reduced to
specie value according to a scale of depreciation,
or certificates of liquidated debts of the United
States, including interest, besides the expenses of
survey and other charges thereon,” which were
estimated to be $36 per township. This measure
was a failure, and it was intimated that the states .
which had any lands of their own to dispose of,
took pains to make it inoperative. Meanwhile a
new difficulty, unauthorized entries upon the pub-
lic lands, was to be met, and force was necessary.
Gallatin recalls, in his correspondence with Jeffer-
son, that from 1783 to 1786 immigration into the
territory north of the Ohio was encouraged by the
peacefulness of the Indians; and that a company
was kept going up and down the Ohio from the
Pennsylvania line to Cincinnati, burning every
cabin, and in some instances laying down or burn-
ing the fences. This operation had to be repeat-
ed, and he knew of persons “whose cabins were
burnt and settlement destroyed three times.”
(Writings, vol. i., p. 188.) In 1787 the price per
acre was reduced to 66% cents per acre, and in the
following year, the clauses regulating the drawing
of land being repealed, power was given to the
board of treasury to move about the United States
and sell surveyed lands at pleasure. The low price
soon attracted purchasers, and in 1788 a party
from New England, under the lead of Rufus Put-
nam, settled at the mouth of the Muskingum
river, while another party, made up chiefly in
New Jersey, and among which was John C.
Symmes, who had been a delegate to congress,
aimed at the acquisition of the territory west of
the former grant, and included between the Ohio
and the Great and Little Miami rivers. Without
waiting, however, for congress to act upon their
petition, Symmes and his associates began the sale
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
469
of lands, issued warrants of locations, and even
made settlements. Differences arising between
Symmes and the board of treasury, no satisfac-
tory arrangement was made until 1792, when, un-
der Hamilton's administration, a patent was issued, .
in September, 1794, for as much land as had
been paid for, amounting to about 310,000 acres,
although 1,000,000 acres were called for by the
contract. The difficulty of settling this claim
arose from the general ignorance respecting the
topography of the country; for when the Surveys
were made, it was seen that no tract of 1,000,000
acres could be included within the bounds named
without cutting into former Indian or military
reservations. The patent of 1794 was not re-
garded as final by Symmes, for in 1803 he issued
a circular in which he expresses the belief that in
the end he would receive the full 1,000,000 acres.
On the other hand, congress accepted the patent
of 1794 as a full settlement of Symmes’ claims,
and this involved the latter in difficulties from
which he never entirely extricated himself. The
fault in this matter appears to have rested entirely
with congress. In addition to these two sales of
lands, a third tract of 202,187 acres (now includ-
ed in Erie county, Pa.) was sold to Pennsylva-
nia, and was the last transaction which occurred
before the constitution was adopted. These lands
were paid for in evidences of the public debt
of the United States, and in military land war.
rants. – Among the important questions which
were presented to the first congress under the con-
stitution was that of the public domain. In the
first debate on the subject (May 28, 1789) it was
urged that the existing system tended to favor
speculators and to discourage actual settlers; the
land therefore ought to be sold in quantities to
suit the applicants, and not in large quantities
only. In this way settlement would be encour-
aged, and the public income from this source be
greater and more certain. On the other hand, it
was urged, that, if lands were offered on much
more favorable terms, the eastern states would be
depopulated. The situation was complicated by
other circumstances. Some of the states were in
the market with lands. Connecticut was offering
her “Western Reserve” lands at forty cents per
acre ; Virginia advertised her Kentucky, and
North Carolina her Tennessee, lands; both Penn-
sylvania and Georgia were inviting purchasers,
while Massachusetts had reduced the price of
Maine lands to fifty cents per acre, with the inten-
tion of checking western emigration. Moreover,
the Spaniards in Illinois were at this time bidding
for settlers under even more advantageous terms:
lands without charge, exemption from taxation,
provision, and the implements of husbandry. In
order to arrive at some determination, congress
ealled upon Hamilton, now at the head of the
treasury, to submit a plan, and in July, 1790, he
communicated it to the house. Hamilton's report
forms an important contribution to the history of
the public domain, for many of its features have
been retained to the present time. In his estima-
tion, two objects were to be considered : to in-
crease the facility of effecting advantageous sales,
and the accommodation of those who were already
settled in, or might in the future emigrate to, the
western country. The land should be so offered
as to accommodate three classes of purchasers :
“moneyed individuals, and companies who will
buy to sell again ; associations of persons who
intend to make settlements themselves; single
persons or families now resident in the western
country, or who may emigrate thither hereafter.”
He recommended that a general land office should
be established at the seat of government, and at
least two subordinate offices opened in the western
lands, each office to be under the control of three
commissioners; that the land should be set apart
for sales in townships of ten miles square, after
certain reservations had been made for actual set-
tlers, and for the subscribers to the proposed loan
in the public debt; that no credit be given for any
quantity less than a whole township, nor more
than two years’ credit be allowed for any greater
quantity, and security, “other than the land it-
self,” shall be required of the purchaser to whom
credit is given; that the price shall be thirty cents
per acre, payable either in specie or in public se-
curities; and finally, that it might be advisable to
“vest a considerable latitude of discretion in the
commissioners of the general land office.” (Ham-
ilton's Works, vol. iii., p. 84.) — Congress, how-
ever, was slow to act, and it was not until 1796
that any decided step in advance was taken. It
was then that the rectangular system of Surveying
lands was in substance adopted, and provision
made for the public sale of lands in sections one
mile square at a price not less than two dollars per
acre. This price was determined upon in order to
include all costs of surveying and disposition. It
will be of interest to note the valuation of land
in some of the original states, as estimated two
years after, in 1798:

sº Per
STATES. Acres. Valuation. A Cre.
New Hampshire.-------- 3,749,061 $ 19,028,108 || $5.07
Pennsylvania ----------- 11,959,865 72,824,852 6.09
Maryland--------------- 5,444,272 21,634,004 3.77
Virginia ---------------- 40,458,644 59,976,860 1.48
Sixteen States ---------- 163,746,686 479,293,263 2.92
(American State Papers, Public Lands, vol. iii.,
p. 264.) — Up to the year 1800, when an impor-
tant change was made in the land laws, all sales
were made from the territory now included in
the state of Ohio, and amounted to 1,484,047
acres, realizing 1,201,725.68. — The act of May,
1800, introduced several new features, and may
be said to be the first serious attempt to System-
atize the manner of disposing of the public lands.
Registers, having offices within defined districts,
were created, and at each land office there was to
be a bonded officer known as the “receiver of
public moneys.” But the most important modifi-
cation made, and one that was pregnant with Con-
470
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
Sequences, was that governing the terms of pay-
ment. The lands were, as before, to be offered
at public vendue, and to be sold at a price not less
than two dollars per acre, payment to be made in
specie or evidences of the public debt.
a fourth part of the purchase money was required
at the time; the payment of the balance was to
be spread over three years, one-fourth of the orig-
inal purchase money to be paid in each year, with
interest at 6 per cent. per annum from the day of
sale. A discount of 8 per cent. was allowed
for the prepayment of any of the last three in-
stallments. In case the full payment was not
made within one year after the last installment
was due, the lands were to be resold, or were to
revert to the United States. The opportunities
afforded by this extension of credit were too tempt-
ing to be resisted, and a great increase in the sales
of land at once occurred. While in 1799 nothing
was turned into the treasury from this source,
and in 1800 but $443, in the following three
years the receipts were respectively, $167,726.06,
$188,628.02, and $165,675; and it is reasonable
to suppose that in the larger number of instances
full advantage was taken of the credit offered,
and that these sums were therefore but the first
payment on the purchases. And this conclusion
is further supported by the receipts for the years
1804 – 1806, when the arrears and final install-
ments were falling due, being, in round figures,
$487,500, $540,200, and $765,250 respectively. In
fact, it was soon evident that the long term of
credit allowed, was inducing excessive purchases,
and that, in their eagerness to secure lands, pur-
chasers were assuming debts which only a long
continuation of the most favorable circumstances
would enable them to discharge. For, on lands
sold before 1803, amounting to 900,000 acres, and
sold under the provisions of the act of 1800, but
$800,000 had been paid, while $1,100,000 re-
mained due. Nor did the results of the follow-
ing years tend to prove the wisdom of the credit
system, as in 1804 the unpaid balance was
$1,434,212, and in 1805, $2,094,305, the increase
being due both to increase of sales and to an ac-
cumulation of arrears. The lands might be for-
feited, and put up at public sale, but such at-
tempts were rarely attended with success, and the
lands reverted to the government, encumbered
by the Occupancy of a tenant. Speaking of the
increasing indebtedness on account of land pur-
chases, Gallatin said: “Great difficulties may at-
tend the recovery of that debt which is due by
nearly 2,000 individuals, and its daily increase
may create an interest hostile to the general wel-
fare of the Union.” For this reason he recom-
mended a shortening of credit, and also to allow
the land to be sold in tracts smaller than quarter
sections. Nothing, however, was done with re-
spect to these recommendations, and in 1806 con-
gress still further complicated matters by refusing
to receive in payment for purchases of public
lands any more certificates or evidences of public
debt. The demands for relief now became more
But only
*
urgent, and congress was flooded with petitions,
resolutions, legislative enactments and personal
applications, all seeking to obtain relief from bur-
dens which a little foresight would have origi-
nally prevented. From 1809 to 1824 hardly a year.
passed without a “relief act” being adopted, by
which the operation of the general provisions of
the law was suspended or mitigated. Many of
these measures were but partial remedies, and
only served to complicate matters, while offering
little toward a final and satisfactory solution of
the problem. It was difficult to see how the situ-
ation could be helped by merely extending the
term of credit. If the back interest was remit-
ted for one set of purchasers, others petitioned
for a like favor; if an advantage was given to the
purchasers in one state, arguments were adduced
for extending the same advantage to other states.
So that a privilege or relief measure granted to
apply to a special, and it may be an exceptional,
case, became the basis for demands from other
quarters. One of the most common pleas for de-
manding relief was the expediency of interesting
the purchaser in the Union by giving him a full
and complete ownership in a portion of the soil,
and not weakening his attachment by making him.
a debtor. “It is believed that a government
founded on the general sentiment of the commu-
nity can not, with safety to itself, hold as debtors.
the citizens of any considerable portion of the
country.” But special reasons were not wanting
to those who applied for some favor. In 1809 it
was the embargo, which “had suspended the
foreign trade of the country, ceased that demand
for domestic produce, and that exchange of prod-
uce for specie, so necessary to produce a general,
circulation of it, that, while a redundant moneyed
capital has accumulated in the commercial towns.
and cities, its circulation is proportionally dimin-
ished in the interior and remote parts of the coun-
try.” In 1812 it was the war which prevented
the payment of debts; and in that year a report
was made in congress advocating Some favor.
“The present system can not be continued, and
the laws rigidly executed, without occasioning
great injury to the purchasers. Men are seduced
by the temptation, which the credit held out to
them, to extend their purchases beyond their
means of making payments; the unfavorable fluc-
tuations of commerce can not be foreseen ; and
the pretty general disposition in men to antic-
ipate the most favorable results from the prod-
uce of their labor, are the general causes of
the failure of purchasers in making payments.”
— Yet, in spite of the fact that the buyers of
land were during these years so cumbered with
debt, attempts were made to induce Congress to
give even greater opportunities for running into
debt. Thus, a petition presented to Congress in
1814 recited that there were many thousands of
poor, industrious inhabitants and faithful citizens
of the United States, suffering for Want of a por-
tion of the soil of the country; and from the
scarcity of money, and the high price of lands,
-
they were prevented from purchasing; they there-
fore prayed that every person above the age of
eighteen years may be allowed to hold 160 acres
of the public lands by virtue of settlement, at the
price of 123 cents per acre, payable within the
term of seven years, without interest. Further-
more, during the period between 1817 and 1819,
when commerce was prosperous, prices of produce
high, and speculation, aided by excessive issues
of bank notes, was rampant, large purchases of
public lands were made under the credit system;
and when in the following years the bubble of pros-
perity had burst, few who had entered into these
purchases were able to discharge their obligations.
Again was appeal made to congress, and, in addi-
tion to granting relief measures, it passed an act
in April, 1820, abolishing the credit system, au-
thorizing the selling of land in half quarter sec-
tions, or 80-acre lots, and reducing the minimum
price to $1.25 per acre. The credit system was
prevalent, and left its traces in Ohio, Indiana,
Illinois, Missouri, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisi-
ana and Michigan. Relief acts were, however,
still in demand, for the amount of indebtedness
had largely increased, being, in December, 1820,
$21,213,350.17. The fluctuations in the prices of
commodities, the issues of paper money, Indian
hostilities, which required the personal service of
land cultivators, and many other such excuses,
were, from time to time, urged upon congress
as reasons why relieſ should be granted. And
through the influence of these successive acts,
coupled with the repeal of the credit system of
purchasing lands, the amount of indebtedness
was decreased through payment of arrears and
through a relinquishment of the lands. In 1828
the general land office reported that under the re-
lief laws 4,168,941 acres had been relinquished,
discharging $13,778,347.37 of debt; in 1830 this
land debt was wholly discharged. —In the mean-
while, however, a new difficulty was taking form
by reason of the dissatisfaction openly expressed
by the states with the method of disposing of the
lands. The states which had large tracts of pub-
lic lands within their limits, and were known as
the “land states,” as distinguished from the origi-
nal states, chafed under the apparent injustice of
the land laws to themselves, and even threatened
to resort to measures of force if relief was not
provided for. As all lands, irrespective of their
Quality and situation, were in the market at the
same mºnºmum price, it naturally followed that
the best lands, those that at that time presented
the most promising results to the cultivator at the
least expenditure of labor and money, were taken
first, and the lands of inferior quality were passed
by. It is true, that in many cases these lands were
increased in value by the mere accession of popu-
lation and increase of wealth in the neighborhood.
But scattered throughout the land states, and, in-
deed, in almost every section where public lands
had existed, there remained tracts which were not
at that time worth the minimum price, and which
could not have made any return to the cultivator
TUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
471
in proportion to the expense necessary to purchase
and cultivate them. The result was, these tracts
remaining public lands, bore no share of state or
local taxation, and were even a source of expense
to the state, as were the lowlands of the south,
which were subject to an annual inundation. As
early as 1824 these complaints became frequent,
and Benton introduced into congress a measure
for graduating the price of lands that had been
in the market for a certain length of time, and
for granting pre-emption rights to actual settlers.
The introduction and rejection of this measure
only served to urge the states to new endeavors.
In 1827, Illinois stated, that if the present mini-
mum price be adhered to, “it must be several
hundred years before all the soil of the state can
be passed out of the hands of the federal govern-
ment and be subjected to the laws and jurisdic-
tion of the state.” “The question is one which,
if seriously presented, must involve questions of
the highest importance to a state, and of the most
intense interest to its citizens—no less than of the
deprivation of some of the essential attributes of
its sovereignty; the control of the internal con-
cerns and police of a free state by a power other
than its own; a prohibition to regulate and im-
prove the settlement of lands within its own lim-
its and acknowledged boundaries, according to its
own views of its prosperity and happiness; a dep-
rivation of the collection of revenue from vast
bodies of soil within such limits until the general
government shall choose to assent thereto by the
disposition of the soil—whether the citizens of
such states shall be subject to the operation of
the laws of the United States, confessedly purely
municipal, which have no existence in the older
states, and which they alone have the right to
pass, and to which no other power is competent
without the consent of their own legislative pow-
ers; whether in reality the compact under which
the general government claims these extraordinary
powers, is consonant to the rights reserved to the
states, respectively, by the constitution of the
|United States, or have, in any wise, been granted
by that instrument; and finally, whether the
tenure by which they hold the public lands is
valid and binding on the new states.” The legis-
lature of Missouri went even further, and de-
clared, that in persisting in its land policy con-
gress was infringing the compact between the
|United States and the state; “that the state of
Missouri never could have been brought to con-
sent not to tax the lands of the United States
while unsold, and not to tax the lands sold until
five years thereafter,” if it had been understood
by the contracting parties that a system was to be
pursued which would prevent nine-tenths of those
lands from ever becoming the property of persons
in whose hands they might be taxed.” Indiana
* This exemption from local taxation was part of the
credit system, its intention being to prevent any part of the
means of the debtor from being drawn from him by taxa-
tion during the time given him to comply with his engage-
ment to the government,
472
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
declared that “this state, being a sovereign, free
and independent state, has the exclusive right to
the soil and eminent domain of all the unappro-
priated lands within her acknowledged bounda-
ries,” this right being reserved in the deed of ces-
sion of the northwestern territory to the United
States, and confirmed and established by the arti-
cles of confederacy and the constitution of the
United States. – Another circumstance that led
to these complaints by the states was the great
desire to effect internal improvements, which had
during these years become prevalent. These
states were deprived of the right of eminent do-
main where the public lands were situated, and
were further debarred from what might be a very
profitable source of revenue; for their revenues
were almost wholly derived from a tax upon
land. As the population was much scattered by
reason of the situation of the best lands, the
policy of maintaining a minimum price for all
lands was fastened upon as the cause. “The tide
of population is thus diverted into a thousand
channels, and suffered to roll over immense re-
gions, creating feeble and thinly scattered settle-
ments, and leaving extensive tracts of wilderness
behind.” (Illinois, 1825.) “In a scattered popu-
lation public institutions are seldom established;
systems of education can not be matured; moral
restraints are tardily enforced; laws are feebly
executed, and revenue raised with difficulty.” “It
is the policy of enlightened legislation,” said the
legislature of Indiana, “to curtail this unlimit-
ed range, and by social allurements to reclaim
our wandering tribes to the blessings of human-
ity and refinement.” But the climax of absurd-
ity was reached by Mr. Richard Rush, the secre-
tary of the treasury, in his annual report for
1827, in which he makes a plea for further pro-
tection to manufactures through the tariff, on the
ground that the land laws were protecting agri-
culture. “It can not be overlooked that the prices
at which fertile bodies of land may be bought
of the government under this system, operate
as a perpetual allurement to their purchase. It
must therefore be taken in the light of a bounty,
indelibly written in the text of the laws them-
selves, in favor of agricultural pursuits. Such
it is in effect, though not in form. Perhaps no
enactment of legislative bounties has ever be-
fore operated upon a scale so vast, throughout
a series of years, and over the face of an entire
nation, to turn population and labor into one par-
ticular channel, preferably to all others. * *
It has served and still serves to draw, in an an-
nual stream, the inhabitants of a majority of the
states, including among them at this day a por-
tion, not small, of the western states, into the
settlement of fresh lands lying still farther and
farther off. * * And, as it is the laws that
have largely, in effect, throughout a long course
of time, superinduced disinclinations to manu-
facturing labor, by their overpowering calls to
rural labor, in the mode of selling off the public
domain, the claim of further legal protection to
the former kind of labor, at this day, seems to
wear an aspect of justice no less than of expedi-
ency.” – In December, 1827, the secretary of the
treasury reported that, while more than 261,000,000
acres of land lying within the states and territories
had become the absolute property of the United
States free from Indian claim, since the organiza-
tion of the government but 19,000,000 had been
sold to individuals. At that rate it was estimated
that a period of more than five centuries must
elapse before the whole of the public domain then
under the unrestrained control of congress would
become the property of individuals. In 1880 the
land commission reported, that, at the present rate
of absorption, all the surveyed arable land would
be taken within three years. — Still another cause
for agitation on this subject was the rapid decrease
in the national debt, to provide for which the lands
in a measure stood pledged. As early as 1806,
in view of the ultimate payment of the debt, Jef-
ferson had suggested the appropriation of the .
proceeds of the sales of the lands to works of in-
ternal improvement and to the support of educa-
tion. And between the years 1825 and 1832 many
schemes for disposing of the lands by sale or gift
were advanced in congress, many of which were
very questionable in character. Indeed, in De-
cember, 1829, it was stated in the house, that “it
seemed as if the four quarters of the Union were
striving with one another which should get the
most out of these lands. The appetite for them
appeared to be insatiable and uncontrollable.”
Claims that had been rejected at the land offices
were readily allowed by congress. . During the
session of 1827–8 congress actually gave away to
states and individuals not less than 2,300,000 acres
of choice lands, the donations for internal im-
provements alone exceeding the Sales. In order to
check further concessions it was proposed to give
the states a direct interest in the income arising
from the sales of the public lands. Some states laid
claim to the lands themselves. In 1831 Madison
expressed himself in forcible terms against a claim
“so unfair and unjust, so contrary to the certain
and notorious intentions of the parties to the case,
and so directly in the teeth of the condition on
which the lands were ceded to the Union.” No
account seems to have been taken of the practical
difficulties connected with a donation of lands to
the states: the creation of rivals in her Own land
markets, the difficulty of locating divisions of
equal value, and the establishment of as many
systems of land sales as there were states. – In
December, 1829, a resolution was offered in the
senate by Mr. Foot, of Connecticut, that the com-
mittee on public lands should inquire into the
expediency of limiting the sales of the public
lands to those then in the market, and to suspend
further surveys. A spirited debate followed,
which led up to the famous argument between
Webster and Hayne, which involved a general
examination of the principles of the constitution.
No action was taken. The secretary of the treas-
ury, in his report for 1831, “submitted to the
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
473
wisdom of congress to decide upon the propriety
of disposing of all the public lands, in the aggre-
gate, to those states within whose territorial limits
they lie, at a fair price, to be settled in such a
manner as might be satisfactory to all,” and the
president raised the question of public lands in
his message for 1832. In the meantime the legis-
latures of six of the new states had memorialized
congress in favor of a reduction in the price of
lands, and a cession of them to the states in which
they were situated, being substantially the propo-
sition of the secretary. The Senate instructed the
committee on manufactures to report upon these
propositions. – This able document, prepared by
Mr. Clay, embodies the debates of the previous
years, and clearly states the actual status of the
question. For this reason a summary is here
given of its arguments. A reduction of price, it
asserted, if called for by the public interests, must
be required either because the government now
demands more than a fair price for the public
lands, or because the existing price retards in-
juriously the settlement of the new states and
territories. While it was true that much of the
land then offered might not be intrinsically worth
the minimum price fixed by law, there was also
much that was unquestionably worth more. If
the government was intent upon accelerating the
sales of the lands, some alteration in the price
might be made ; but, under the existing regula-
tions, the acquisition of a home was placed with-
in the reach of every industrious man; and that
the established price was Ilot too higli was demon-
strated by the rapidity with which the land was
taken when offered. In fact, the returns given
by the secretary of the treasury proved this asser-
tion by showing that the receipts from lands “had
gone beyond all former example.” Moreover, if
any reduction was made in the price of the lands,
the value of land throughout the country, and
especially of that in the states which contained,
or were nearest to, the public lands, would be
affected. There would be danger of offering en-
couragement to speculation, and lastly, a reduc-
tion would affect injuriously the interests of the
states, by decreasing the value of the liberal grants
of land made to them for various purposes, much
of which was still in the market. That large
quantities of the public lands remained unsold
was due to the fact that immigration, and the
progressive increase of population, were not suffi-
cient to absorb all that was offered ; and if the
quantity thrown upon the market had been quad-
rupled, the probability is that not much more
would have been annually sold than had been
actually sold. On the second point, the increase
of population in the states where the public lands
were situated clearly showed that no fresh im-
pulse to immigration was required. The popula-
tion of the seven states embracing the public
lands had increased by 85 per cent. between 1820
and 1830, that of Illinois alone showing an in-
crease of more than 185 per cent.; whereas the
population of the seventeen states which embraced
no public lands within their limits had, in the
same period, increased but 25 per cent. Further-
more, while the population of the country was
increasing at the rate of 3 per cent. a year, the .
demand for public lands increased at the rate of
23 per cent. per annum. To the complaint made
by some of the states, that by reason of the ex-
emption of lands from taxation an undue propor-
tion of the expenses of government was thrown
upon the resident population, it was answered,
that congress had in many ways made a liberal
compensation for this apparent injustice: it had
appropriated toward internal improvements 5 per
cent. of the net proceeds of all sales of public
lands within their limits; that a section of land
in each township, or one thirty-sixth portion of
the whole of the public lands, had been reserved
for purposes of education; and that liberal grants
had been made for local and special purposes.
Still, the committee would recommend a further
grant for internal improvements, to the states
having within their boundaries public lands, of
10 per cent. of the net proceeds of land sales, and
for a limited time a division of the residue among
all the states. – As to ceding on reasonable terms
the public lands to the several states in which
they might be situated, it would practically in-
volve a cession of the whole public domain of the
United States; for as new states were created,
similar cessions must be made to them. This
would mean the relinquishment of an aggregate
of 1,090,871,753 acres, or, at the minimum price,
upward of $1,400,000,000. “If such a measure
could find any justification, it must arise out of
some radical and some incurable defect in the
construction of the general government properly
to administer the public domain. But the exist-
ence of any such defect is contradicted by the
most successful experience. No branch of the
public service has evinced more system, uniform-
ity and wisdom, or given more general satisfac-
tion, than that of the administration of the public
lands.” The states are not more competent than
the government to dispose of the lands, for the
regulations would lack uniformity, and might
lead to contests among themselves. “Each state
would be desirous of inviting the greatest num-
ber of emigrants, not only for the laudable pur-
pose of populating rapidly its own territories,
but with the view to the acquisition of funds to
enable it to fulfill its engagements to the gener-
al government. Collisions between states would
probably arise, and their injurious consequences
may be imagined. A spirit of hazardous spec-
ulation would be engendered. Various schemes
in the new states would be put afloat to sell
or divide the public lands. Companies and com-
binations would be formed in this country, if
not in foreign countries, presenting gigantic and
tempting but delusive projects; and the history of
legislation, in some of the states of the Union,
admonishes us that a too ready ear is sometimes
given by a majority, in a legislative assembly, to
such projects.” A decisive objection to such a
474
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
transfer for a fair equivalent was that it would
establish a new and dangerous relation between
the general government and the new states, that
of creditor and debtor; and would involve much
the same consequences, save in a higher degree,
that existed between the general government and
individual debtors under the credit system. The
states would not be able to pay for their lands at
once, and must incur heavy debts. If the debtor
state failed to pay when the debt matured, how
could it be forced to pay? War is the last reme-
dy between independent nations, but the relations
between the general government and the members
of the confederacy excluded all idea of force and
war. Nor would the judiciary be efficient. “On
what would their process operate? Could the
property of innocent citizens residing within the
limits of the defaulting states be justly seized by the
general government, and held responsible for debts
contracted by the states themselves in their sov-
ereign capacity ? If a mortgage upon the lands
ceded were retained, that mortgage would prevent
or retard subsequent sales by the states, and if in-
dividuals bought, subject to the incumbrance, a
parental government could never resort to the
painful measure of disturbing them in their pos-
sessions.” “Delinquency on the part of the
debtor states would be inevitable, and there would
be no effectual remedy for the delinquency. They
would come again and again to congress, Solicit-
ing time and indulgence, until, finding the weight
of the debt intolerable, congress, wearied by reiter-
ated applications for relief, would finally resolve
to sponge the debt; or, if congress attempted to en-
force its payment, another and a worse alternative
would be embraced. * * Upon full and thor-
ough consideration, the committee have come to
the conclusion that it is inexpedient either to re-
duce the price of the public lands, or to cede them to
the new states.”—This report was not, of course,
satisfactory to those who desired to distribute free-
ly the land or proceeds among the states, and the
bill reported by the committee on manufactures
was promptly referred to the committee on public
lands, which but for political reasons would have
had cognizance of the matter from the first, and a
very different report was made. The report of Mr.
Clay was declared to be “founded in error both
in its principles and its details;” its recommen-
dations were rejected, and, in place of them, the
committee recommended the minimum price of
one dollar per acre, such lands as remained in the
market more than five years to be sold at fifty
cents per acre, and finally, the distribution of
15 per cent. Of the proceeds among the states. A
bill embodying Mr. Clay’s recommendations was
passed by both houses of congress, but was vetoed
by the president, and in such a way as effectually
to prevent its being passed over his veto, a suffi-
cient majority in both houses being in favor of the
bill. His main objection to it was, that it pre-
vented any reduction in the price of the land. In
1835 Mr. Clay again passed his bill through the
Senate, but it was lost in the house. — Now oc-
curred one of the most curious episodes connected
with the history of the public lands. Owing to a
number of causes, the chief of which was the
condition of the currency and of banking, an era
of speculation and inflation was introduced, and
was at its height in 1835. Curiously enough, the
public lands became an object of speculation,
although the supply was practically unlimited,
and the expectation of any marked rise appar-
ently too distant to tempt investment for merely
speculative purposes. Furthermore, while the
prices of all other commodities were rising, an
abundance of lands could be had at the minimum
price fixed by law. In 1834 the sales amounted
to $4,800,000; in 1835, to $14,700,000; and in
1836, to $24,800,000. During the fourteen months
between July, 1835, and October, 1836, the sales.
were extraordinary. Yet in 1835 neither the pres-
ident nor the secretary of the treasury appeared
to realize that there was on foot any great specu-
lation in the public lands. Jackson appeared to
regard the increase as a proof of the prosperity of
agriculture, and even hinted at a reduction in the
minimum price; while the secretary of the treasury
was so little impressed with the real situation that
he estimated the probable receipts for 1836 at
$4,000,000, whereas in fact they were more than
eight times as large. “The receipts for the lands.
consisted largely of notes of irresponsible banks.
Land speculators organized a ‘bank,’ got it ap-
pointed a deposit bank if they could, issued notes,
borrowed them and bought land; the notes were
deposited, they borrowed them again, and so on.
There was, of course, little specie in the West, on
account of the flood of paper money.” In con-
gress Benton attempted to pass a bill that nothing
but gold or silver should be taken for public lands,
but failed. But on July 11, 1836, the president
issued the famous “specie circular ” which made
this requirement.* It not only caused great in-
convenience and discontent in the west, but also
precipitated a crisis by drawing specie from the
eastern banks, already hard pressed by the specu-
lative period, which had then reached its culmina-
tion. In December congress passed an act rescind-
ing the circular, but it was vetoed by the presi-
dent. — In February, 1837, Calhoun introduced a
measure for ceding the public lands to the new
states, but the reason he gave will not bear Serious
criticism: “to place the senators and representa-
tives from the new states on an equality with
those from the old, by withdrawing our local con-
trol, and breaking the vassalage under which they
are now placed.” In the same session a bill for
graduating the price of unsold lands passed the
senate, but failed to be acted upon in the house.
A new factor now appeared. Many of the states
had emerged from the period of speculation with
heavy debts, which were chiefly held in England.
About two hundred millions of dollars were due
from states and corporations to creditors in Eu-
rope. (Benton.) “These debts were in stocks,
* A similar law was passed in 1816."
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
475.
much depreciated by the failure, in many instances,
to pay the accruing interest; in some instances, fail-
ure to provide for the principal. These creditors
became uneasy, and wished the federal govern-
ment to assume their debts. As early as the year
1838 this wish began to be manifested; in the year
1839 it was openly expressed; in the year 1840 it
became a regular question, mixing itself up in our
presidential election, and openly engaging the
active exertion of foreigners.” This was Benton's
statement, and it is certain that he made too much
of the proposition. In January, 1840, Mr. Grundy,
of Tennessee, presented a report on it, which con-
tained the following: “We, therefore, conclude
that the application of the moneys arising from
the Sales of public lands to the payment of Said
debts, or their distribution among the states for
such purposes, is as unjust, inexpedient and un-
constitutional as a similar application of any other
portion of the public revenue; and, moreover, in
direct violation of the terms and spirit of the com-
pacts of the cession.” Mr. Webster stated that
he did not know of a man in congress who held
that the government had any more right to pay
the debts of a state than those of a private indi-
vidual. Some color was given to the charge by
the first message of President Tyler. Although
repudiating any assumption by the government of
the debts of the states, he recommended a distribu-
tion among the states of the proceeds of the sales
of the public lands; and intimated that such a
measure would cause an immediate advance in the
price of the stale securities. A measure embody-
ing such a distribution, with many other features,
such as a gift of 500,000 acres of land to the
new states, and pre-emption rights to settlers, was
passed in 1841, and spite of the fact that the con-
difion of the national finances was not such as to
warrant the loss of the land revenue. A further
provision connected it with the tariff. “If, at any
time during the existence of this act, duties on im-
ported goods should be raised above the rate of
the 20 per centum on the value as provided in the
compromise act of 1833, then the distribution of
the land revenue should be suspended.” In like
manner the tariff act passed in the same session
provided that if any duty exceeding 20 per centum
on the value shall be levied before June 30, 1842,
it should not stop the distribution of the land
revenue as provided for in the distribution act.
Both tariff and distribution acts remained in force
less than a year. The progress from relief acts to
a distribution of proceeds of the sales of lands
was logical, but the principles embodied in these
many acts were bad, and undoubtedly strained
the constitutional powers of the government.
Propositions of a like character are met with in
after years, but as they never reached an issue,
there is no necessity for special mention. The
results of such measures were so clearly pointed
out by Jackson, in his eighth annual message, as
to warrant its quotation. “All will admit that
the simplicity and economy of the state govern-
ments mainly depend on the fact that money has
to be supplied to support them by the same men,
or their agents, who vote it away in appropria-
tions. Hence, when there are extravagant and
wasteful appropriations, there must be a corre-
sponding increase in taxes; and the people, be-
coming awakened, will necessarily scrutinize the
character of measures which thus increase their
burdens. By the watchful eye of self-interest,
the agents of the people in the state governments.
are repressed and kept within the limits of a just
economy. But if the necessity of levying the
taxes be taken from those who make the appro-
priations and thrown upon a more distant and less
responsible set of public agents, who have power
to approach the people by an indirect and stealthy
taxation, there is reason to fear that prodigality
will soon supersede those characteristics which
have thus far made us look with so much pride
and confidence to the state governments as the
main-stay of our Union and liberties. The state
legislatures, instead of studying to restrict their
state, expenditures to the Smallest possible sum,
will claim credit for their profusion, and harass
the general government for increased supplies.
Practically there would soon be but one taxing
power, and that vested in a body of men far
removed from the people, in which the farming
and mechanic interests would scarcely be repre-
sented. The states would gradually lose their
purity, as well as their independence; they would
not dare to murmur at the proceedilugs of the
general government, lest they should lose their
supplies; all would be merged in a practical con-
solidation, cemented by wide-spread corruption,
which would only be eradicated by one of those
bloody revolutions which occasionally overthrow
the despotic systems of the old world.” — Coupled
with propositions for graduating the price of the
public lands, for ceding the lands to the states, or
distributing the proceeds from sales among the
states, were measures for extending the privilege
of pre-emption to actual settlers. Pre-emption
gives a settler the first right or preference to pur-
chase as against those who may wish to purchase
and hold for investment or speculation. It is a
premium to those who make a permanent Settle-
ment on the land with the intention of cultivating
it and making a home. “The essential conditions.
of a pre-emption are actual entry upon, residence
in a dwelling, and improvement and cultivation
of a tract of land.” The right or privilege thus
Conferred was first exercised in the case of those
who had suffered from the Symmes purchase, but
between the date of the first pre-emption act and
the year 1841 no less than sixteen such acts were
passed. In fact, some such measure was neces-
sary in order to prevent injustice to those who
had entered upon and cultivated public lands be-
fore they had been surveyed and opened to settle-
ment. In its eagerness to secure the best lands
the population tended to overpass the surveyed
lands and settle in the wilds, and this tendency
was greatly aggravated by the speculation in lands
in 1835–7, when nearly all the best lands that were
476
PUBLIC LAND'S OF THE UNITED STATES.
in the market were controlled by companies or
single proprietors, who had purchased for pur-
poses of speculation. Thus in 1838, “in that
part of Wisconsin which lies west of the Missis-
sippi, there are supposed to be from thirty to
fifty thousand inhabitants. Over this region con-
gress has extended civil government, established
courts of law, and encouraged the building of
villages and towns; and yet the land has not been
brought into the market for sale, except it may
be small quantities for the sites of villages and
towns. In other parts of Wisconsin a similar
state of things exists, especially on and near the
border of Lake Michigan, where numerous settle-
ments have been made and commercial towns
erected, some of them already of considerable im-
portance, but where the title to the land still
remains in the government. Similar cases exist
in Indiana, Illinois and Michigan, and probably
also in the southwestern states.” (Webster.) To
oust these settlers from their holdings appeared to
be a gross injustice, and yet any favor shown to
them would only open the door to future abuses.
It was said that pre-emption encouraged squatters,
that it enabled a man to settle upon a tract of
land and not pay for it until forced to, and that
it was a bounty to the speculator and intruder.
On the other hand, it was urged that the privi-
lege of pre-emption served to invite the immigra-
tion of foreigners, and to encourage the actual
settlement and cultivation of the land, and that it
was not a bounty, gratuity or donation, but merely
a right of previous purchase at a fixed price. Up
to the year 1840 the privilege of pre-emption was
generally conferred only by special enactments,
and such laws, being chiefly of a temporary
nature and applying only to a certain class of
settlers who had made entry upon land before the
date mentioned in the law, were in fact but relief
acts. In 1840 a movement toward a permanent
pre-emption law was started, and under the stim-
ulus of the presidential campaign of that year, in
which the log cabin—the symbol of frontier life
—played an important part, the act of Septem-
ber, 1841, which was supplemented by the act
of March 5, 1843, was passed by congress. The
right of pre-emption was, however, confined to
surveyed lands only By laws passed in 1853 and
1854 the privilege was extended to unsurveyed
lands, thus giving every facility to the speedy
settlement of the public domain. It will be well
to speak here of the origin and result of thus
offering the special privilege of pre-empting lands,
even if we have to anticipate somewhat. “The
pre-emption system arose from the necessities of
settlers, and through a series of more than fifty-
seven years of experience in attempts to sell or
otherwise dispose of the public lands. The early
idea of sales for revenue was abandoned, and a
plan of disposition for homes was substituted.
The pre-emption system was the result of law,
experience, executive orders, departmental rulings,
and judicial construction. It has been many
phased, and was applied by special acts to special
localities with peculiar or additional features, but
it has always, and to this day contains the germ of
actual settlement, under which thousands of homes
have been made and lands made productive, yield.
ing a profit in crops to the farmer, and increas-
ing the resources of the nation.” (Report of
land commission, p. 215.) — The next important
move in respect to the disposing of the public
lands was taken in 1850. As early as 1802 a grant
of land for public improvements in Ohio had
been made to that state, and in later years grants
for wagon roads, for internal improvements and
for canals, were from time to time allowed. Be-
tween 1824 and 1866 more than four millions of
acres of land had been given to five states for
canal purposes, and all of this but some 700,000
acres was ceded prior to 1853. But a more im-
portant agent of transportation—the railroad—was
being introduced, and in a few years superseded
all other agencies. In 1833 congress authorized
the state of Illinois to divert a canal grant and to
apply it to the construction of a railroad, but it
was not utilized by the state. As showing the
small beginnings made in these grants, it is inter-
esting to note, that, in a grant made two years
later, only thirty feet on each side of the line of
the road through the public lands, with use of
timber within 300 feet on either side and ten acres
at terminus, were given. This was little more
than the right of way. In 1836 another grant
only a little more liberal was made to a projected
southern line. Easements were granted for nec-
essary depots, water stations and workshops, in
blocks of not more than five acres on the line of
the road, and adjacent, and at least fifteen miles
apart. Material for construction (earth, stone or
timber) might be taken from the public lands.
These early acts, however, received and indeed
called for little attention. It was not until 1850
that congress was again called upon to aid in
the construction of railroads, but its action was
then very different from what it was in 1835–6.
The important points of the act of September,
1850, which made a grant to Illinois of land to
aid the construction of a railroad (the Illinois Cen-
tral) were as follows: Alternate sections (even
numbered) for six sections in width on either
side of the road and branches were granted;
and if any of this land was already legally occu-
pied, the road could in lieu take a like amount of
unoccupied land within fifteen miles of the road.
This is known as the indemnity practice. The
price of lands situated within the grants and re-
tained by the government was raised to $2.50 per
acre (double minimum), the former price being
$1.25 per acre (single minimum). This was to in-
demnify the government for the lands granted,
and was believed to be just on account of the ad-
vantage accruing to the purchaser of having the
means of reaching the markets with his produce.
It was further stipulated that the road was to be
a public highway, to be used by the government
free of toll or other charges, and the mails were
to be carried at prices to be fixed by congress.
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
477
The whole expense of construction was defrayed
from the proceeds of the land sales, and, in lieu
of the charter and franchises received from Illi-
nois, the railroad stipulated to pay to the state
from 5 to 7 per cent. On its gross receipts.
state thus far has received, in interest alone (the
Illinois Central railroad's gross income being a
perpetual source of income to the state), more than
$3 per acre. The state debt of Illinois, Sept. 14,
1880, was $265,000, which will be paid Jan. 1,
1881, from cash now in hand; and thus the state
will be free from debt, and the income from this
railroad will constitute a fund for state expenses,
doing away, to a great extent, with the necessity
of taxation for state purposes. The income from
this source in 1879 was over $325,477.38.” The
total number of acres given under this grant was
2,595,053. — In 1852 grants for railroads were
made to Missouri, and in 1853 to Arkansas. In
June, 1854, a cession was made to the territory
of Minnesota (an unusual act, as a territory was
not a sovereignty), but it was repealed two months
later. In 1856 and 1857 further grants were made,
in every case to the states themselves. – As early
as 1845 steps were taken to secure government aid
for the construction of a transcontinental road,
but little was accomplished till California was ad-
mitted into the Union, in 1850. From 1850 till
1862 the debates of Congress contain the record
of a large number of bills, resolutions, petitions
and reports upon this project, and the war depart-
ment organized and executed a series of surveys
from the Mississippi river to the Pacific ocean
in order to determine the most practicable and
economical route for such a road. The political
parties took up the subject. In 1856 the demo-
crats, in a national convention at Cincinnati,
adopted a resolution asserting that it was the
duty of the federal government to exercise all its
constitutional power to aid in building the railroad.
to the Pacific, and the democratic platform of
1860 declared that the party stood pledged to aid
the construction of the road by such means as
were constitutional. The republicans took a like
stand. In July, 1862, the Union Pacific railroad
was incorporated by a direct act of congress, and
the grant of land was made to the corporation,
thus marking a complete change in the system.
The company was given right of way, allow-
ances for shops, stations, etc., and in aid of con-
struction, every alternate section of public land
(odd numbered), unless previously disposed of, re-
served or mineral (without indemnity provision),
to the extent of five alternate sections per mile on
either side of the road. It would take too much
space to trace the subsequent legislation on this
subject, or even to summarize the results. That
more properly belongs to the subject of railroads.
From 1850 to 1872 a total of 155,504,994 acres was
granted for railroad construction, of which more
than half was given in the years 1862 and 1864.
Willis Drummond, Jr. (in Major Powell's Report
on the “Lands of the Arid Region,” 1878) esti-
mated, that if the lands embraced in limits of
“The
grants to railroads to June, 1880, were all availa-
ble, and if the corporations, state and national,
built their roads and complied with the laws, it
would require 215,000,000 acres of land to satisfy
their requirements, or only 6,000 square miles less
than the area of the original thirteen states. This
estimate was, however, too large, and the figures
we first gave are nearly correct. Many of these
grants have lapsed, and by appropriate legislation
the land may revert to the United States. – To go
back a little, not content with a pre-emption law,
in 1854 a graduation act was passed to “cheapen
the price of lands long in market for the benefit
of actual settlers and for adjoining farms.” Lands
which had been in the market for more than ten
years were sold to actual settlers at prices ranging
from 12% cents to $1 per acre, according to the
time they had been offered without being taken.
Lands of ten years' standing were appraised at $1
per acre; of fifteen years, 75 cents; of twenty,
50 cents; and so on. The act was repealed in
1862; but under the law 25,696,419 acres were
disposed of.- About 1852 a homestead law, or the
granting of free homes from and on the public
domain, became a national question, and was
pushed by the “free-soil democracy.” In the
years that elapsed between 1852 and 1862, when a
homestead bill was passed, the contest was severe
and bitter, and was marked by a good deal of
foolish rant on the subject of land ownership.
The free-soil democrats in national convention in
1852 inserted the following in their platform :
“that the public lands of the United States belong
to the people, and should not be sold to individ-
uals, nor granted to corporations, but should be
held as a sacred trust for the benefit of the people,
and should be granted in limited quantities, free
of cost, to landless settlers.” In 1859 the contest
in congress centred upon a homestead bill which
gave heads of families the right to enter, free of
cost, 160 acres of public lands. The bill passed
the house, but failed in the senate. In 1860 a
measure passed both houses of congress by which
a head of a family might enter upon a quarter
section of land, and after the expiration of five
years might purchase the same at twenty-five
cents per acre. The bill further provided that
“all lands lying within the limits of a state,
which have been subject to sale at private entry,
and which remain unsold after the lapse of thirty
years, shall be * * ceded to the state in which
the same shall be situated.” President Buchanan
vetoed the measure, on the ground that it was
unequal and unjust. In 1862 a homestead bill
was passed, and this, with the amendments since
adopted, forms the law as it stands to-day. Con-
cerning it, the land commission says: “The pres-
ent homestead law contains all the beneficial
features of the pre-emption act, with the addi-
tions suggested by experience and the changed
condition of national life. The eighth section of
the act contains the substance of the pre-emption
act in the matter of purchase. * * It contains
one feature as broad in its terms and as beneficial
478
PUBLIC LANDS OF THE UNITED STATES.
in its principle as the domain it covers. It is as
follows: “No land acquired under the provisions
of this act shall, in any event, become liable to
the satisfaction of any debt or debts contracted
prior to the issuing of the patent therefor.” The
homestead act is now the approved and preferred
method of acquiring title to the public lands. It
has stood the test of eighteen years, and was the
outgrowth of a system extending through nearly
eighty years; and now, within the circle of a
hundred years since the United States acquired
the first of her public lands, the homestead act
stands as the concentrated wisdom of legislation
for a settlement of the public lands. It protects
the government, it fills the states with homes, it
builds up communities, and lessens the chances
of social and civil disorder by giving ownership of
the soil, in small tracts, to the occupants thereof.
It was copied from no other nation's system.
It was originally and distinctively American,
and remains a monument to its originators.”—
Such, in brief, has been the history of the public
lands in this country. There are a number of
other important measures that have been adopted
for preserving and disposing of these lands, such
as the land bounties for military and naval serv-
ice, the 2, 3 and 5 per cent. funds granted to
the states out of the proceeds of sales of lands,
the Indian and military reservations, scrip lands,
timber and timber-culture laws, and a flood of
donations, public and private; but they need only
be mentioned here, as many will be treated in
other parts of this work. — Statistics. According
to estimates the aggregate area of the public lands
of the United States disposed of and remaining
on June 30, 1880, was 2,894,235.91 square miles,
or, 1,852,310,987 acres. The territory now in-
cluded within the limits of Tennessee was not dis-
posed of under the direction of the executive de-
partment of the general government, and deduct-
ing this, the actual public domain is 1,821,700,922
acres. Up to June 30, 1880, there have been sur-
veyed in the land states and territories, 752,557,195
acres of the public domain, and there remain
to be surveyed, 1,069,143,727 acres. The sur-
veyed lands yet undisposed of are estimated at
204,802,711.12 acres, which, with the unsurveyed,
make a total of 1,273,946,438.12 acres of land
still the property of the United States, and sub-
ject to disposition; from which must be deducted
the grants to railroads and private land claims.
Since the passage of the ordinance of 1785 to
June 30, 1880, a total net sum of $200,702,849.11
has been realized by the national government
from the sales of lands, fees, etc., as follows:
1787. Sold at New York, 72,974 acres (cash)----$ 117,108.24
1790. Sold at Pittsburgh, 143,446 acres (certifi-
Cates and land Warrants)---- - - - - - - - - - 100,427.53
1792. To state of Pennsylvania (certificates of
public debt)--------------------------- 151,640.25
1792. To John Cleves Symmes, 272,540 acres
(army Warrants)----------------------- 189,893.00
1792. To Ohio Co., 892,900 acres (certificates
and army Warrants)-------------------- 642,856.66
Total.------------------------------------- $1,201,725.68
Subsequent to June 30, 1796.
1796----------- $ 4,836. 13 | 1839-----------$ 7,361,576.40
1797----------- 83,540.60 | 1840----------- 3,411,818.63
1798----------- 11,963. 11 | 1841----------- 1,365,627.42
1799----------- ---------- 1842----------. 1,335,797.52
1800----------- 443.75 | 1843----------- 898,158.18
1801----------- 167,726.06 | 1844----------- 2,059,939.80
1802----------- 188,628.02 1845- ---------- 2,077,022.30
1808----------- 165,675.69 | 1846----------- 2,694,452.48
1804----------- 487,526.79 | 1847----------- 2,498,355.20
1805----------- 540,193.80 | 1848----------- 3,328,642.56
1806----------- 765,245.73 1849----------- 1,688,959.55
1807----------- 466,163.27 | 1850----------- 1,859,894.25
1808----------- 647,939.06 | 1851----------- 2,352,305.30
1809----------- 442,252.33 | 1852----------- 2,043,239.58
1810----------- 696,548.82 1853----------- 1,667,084.99
1811----------- 1,040,237.53 | 1854------- - - - 8,470,798.39
1812----------- 710,427.78 1855- - - - - - - - - - - 11,497,049.07
1813----------- 835,655.14 | 1856----------- 8,917,644.93
1814----------- 1,135,971.09 | 1857----------- 3,829,486.64
1815----------- 1,287,959.28 1858----------- 3,513,715.87
1816----------- 1,717,985.03 | 1859----------- 1,756,687.30
1817----------- 1,991,226.06 || 1860----------- 1,778,557.71
1818----------- 2,606,564.77 1861 ----------- 870,658.54
1819----------- 3,274,422.78 1862----------- 152,203.77
1820----------- 1,635,871.61 | 1863. ...--------- 167,617.17
1821-...-------- 1,212,966.46 | 1864----------- 588,333.29
1822----------- 1,803,581.54|| 1865----------- 996,553.31
1828----------- 16,523.10 | 1866----------- 665,031.03
1824----------- 984,418.15 1867 ----------- 1,163,575.76
1825.---------- 1,216,090.56 | 1868-- - - - - - - - - - 1,348,715.41
1826----------- 1,393,785.09 | 1869----------- 4,620,344.34
1827----------- 1,495,845.26 1870----------- 3,350,481.76
1828----------- 1,018,308.75 1871----------- 2,388,646.68
1829----------- 1,517,175.13 | 1872----------- 2,575,714.19
1830----------- 2,329,356.14 | 1873----------- 2,882,312.38
1831----------- 3,210,815.48 1874----------- 1,852,428.93
1833----------- 2,623,381.03 | 1875- - -...------- 1,413,640.17
1888----------- 3,967,682.55 | 1876----------- 1,129,466.95
1834----------- 4,857,600.69 1877----------- 976,253.68
1835. ---------- 14,757,600.75 | 1878----------- 1,079,743.37
1886----------- 24,877,179.86 1879 ----------- 924,781.06
1837----------- 6,776,236.52 | 1880-------- - - - 2,283,118.65
1888----------- 3,730,945.66 *-ºs
Total.------------------------------------ $208,059,657.14
From which must be deducted the amounts paid
to the states ($7,356,808.03), making a net total of
$200,702,849.11. The total cost of the public do-
main, purchases and cessions, surveying and ex-
penses of disposition, extinguishing Indian titles,
etc., has been $322,049,595.96, so that to June 30,
1880, the public domain had cost $121,346,746.85
more than it had realized. It is estimated that
the value of the lands yet to be disposed of is, un-
der.existing laws, $1,159,921,661. — The land has
been in part disposed of as follows:
Cash sales, including pre-emptions, etc., and prob- -
ably 30,000,000 or more acres accounted for under Acres.
other acts, and commutation of homesteads--- 169,832,564
Donation acts, Florida, Oregon, Washington and
New Mexico.--------. ------------------------- 3,084,797
Land bounties, military and naval Service-------- 61,028,430
State selections (act of 1841) for internal improve- *
ments----------------------------------------- 7,806,554
Salines granted to States------------------------- 559,965
Town Sites and County seats--------------------- 148,916
Railroad land grants patented.------------------- 45,650,026
Canal grants------------------------------------ 4,424,073
Military Wagon-road grants.---------------------- 1,301,040
Mineral lands Sold since 1866-------------------- 148,621
Homesteads (other than commuted) ------------- 55,667,044
Scrip lands-------------------------------------- 2,893,034
Coal lands -------------------------------------- 10,750
Stone and timber acts, 1878--------------------- 20,782
Swamp and overflowed lands to states----------- 69,206,522
Graduation act, 1854----------------------------- 25,696,419
Schools, seminaries and agricultural colleges.----- 78,659,439
Area held under the timber culture act----------- 9,346 660
Desert land act.------ ---------------------------- 897,160
— AUTHORITIES. American State Papers, vols. On
Public Lands; Benton’s Abridgment of the Debates
PUBLIC LANDS.
PUBLIC OPINION. 479
of Congress, and the Congressional Globe and Rec-
ord; the Reports of the General Land Office, and lat-
er, of the Secretary of the Interior; Works of Hamil-
ton, Webster, Clay, Calhoun and Adams. The most
complete record of legislation respecting public
lands is to be found in the Report of the Land Com-
mission, Exec. Doc. 47, part 4, H. of R., 46th con-
gress, 3d session. There are also a number of re-
ports on the same subject to be found among the
public documents. WoRTHINGTON C. FORD.
PUBLIC LANDS, Office of. This bureau of
the interior department at Washington is in charge
of an officer styled the commissioner of the gen-
eral land office, which is his legal title, although
he is generally known as commissioner of the
public lands. The first official designation of
such an office was by act of April 25, 1812, which
established it in the department of the treasury;
but the duties were greatly enlarged in 1836
(5 Stat. at Large, p. 107), and the commissioner
was placed under the immediate direction of the
president. The office was placed under the secre-
tary of the interior at the creation of that depart-
ment in 1849. The duties of the Commissioner
are to discharge or supervise all executive acts
appertaining to the Surveying and sale of the pub-
lic lands of the United States. He is to record
and issue all patents for land under the authority
of the government, whether on private claims,
homestead or timber-culture entry, pre-emption
claims, entry by land warrants, or congressional
grants to states or corporations for education or
public improvements. Being thus charged with
the care of the entire public domain, the office
involves great responsibility and legal knowledge.
Besides the commissioner, whose salary is $4,000,
there is a recorder of the general land office, like-
wise appointed by the president and senate, and
three principal clerks (of surveys, of public lands,
and on private land claims), besides a secretary
to the president to sign land patents under the
seal of the office, all of whom are appointed by
the president. The general land office employs
a total force of 218 clerks, costing $287,820 in
1882. The commissioner is required to make an
annual report to congress, embracing all the statis-
tics of surveys and sales of public lands during
the year. These reports make a valuable series
of volumes. Extensive maps of the United States,
showing the public domain unappropriated, are
issued from time to time; also, circulars of in-
formation regarding the method of purchase or
free entry of any of the public lands, which may
be had on application to the commissioner. The
commissioner, and all officers and clerks in the
general land office, are forbidden by law to pur-
chase or to become interested in the purchase of
any of the public lands. All the accounts con-
nected with the public lands are audited in the
general land office. The large number of clerks
required for the current business of the land office
are in the interior department building.
A. R. SPOFFORD.
PUBLIC OPINION. The power of public
opinion has vastly increased in the civilized world
in the last century. Even those who affect to
scorn it, can not deny this, and the statesman is
compelled to take this new “great power” into
consideration. It has become the authority of the
uneducated masses as well as the study of philos-
ophers. What, then, is public opinion? Whereon
does its power rest ? Where are its organs ? At
what does it aim 2 — When a religious impulse
takes hold of the masses, as in times of the found- \
ation of new, or the reformation of old, religions,
and carries them in a definite direction, we do not
call the expression of this common religious sen-
timent “public opinion ”; but we are inclined to
characterize the general, though sometimes bois-
terous, utterance of a popular political desire, as a
demand of public opinion. Whence this differ-
ence? Public opinion always supposes free judg-
ment, which is possible in political affairs, but un-
usual in religious emotions. Therefore, without
cultivation of the reasoning powers and the capa-
bility of judging, there can be no public opinion;
it can only thrive in freedom. The ancients knew
it well and esteemed it highly. Voa, popul; vov
Dei. — In the middle ages public opinion could
make but little progress. Barbarians knew noth-
ing of it, and despotism stified it. It is neither
the opinion of the mighty nor that of a few sages:
it is principally the opinion of the great middle
classes. In the same proportion as the middle
classes give their attention to public affairs and
form an opinion on their political interests, the
power of public opinion prevails; and the more
influential the middle classes become, the more
respect public opinion commands. Hence its great
significance in the present: for the influence of
the middle classes has never been greater in the
state than now. — It is a radical exaggeration to
declare public opinion infallible, and to ascribe
mastery to it as a matter of right. Men with a
deep insight into public life and its requirements
have never been very numerous, and it is very
uncertain whether they can succeed in making
their opinion public opinion. The minority of
learned men and philosophers seldom agrees with
the large majority of the middle classes. The
common judgment of the educated classes, even,
is almost always superficial. It is impossible for
them to know all the particulars and discover all
the causes on which the decision of important
affairs depends. Public opinion may be disturbed,
or may even be artfully misled by the momentary
passions of the multitude. A single prominent
individual may judge aright where every One
about him judges falsely, But, preposterous as
such overrating of public opinion may be, the
haughty contempt with which many doctrinarians
look down upon it, and the vain scorn for it of
petty minds, are no less foolish. Even if public
opinion is misguided and falls into error, it should
not be treated with contempt and Sneered at, be-
cause it is an intellectual power which has an irre-
sistible influence on the rise and downfall of
480 .
PUBLIC POLICY.
leading statesmen and on the destiny of nations.
It is almost impossible, with the representative
constitutions of to-day, that a system opposed to
public opinion should long remain dominant. But
the value of public opinion, has a deeper Cause
than the external influence it exercises. Do not
all political order and all law, in the last analysis,
rest upon the common consciousness of nations?
and in this is not the wisdom of the Creator mani-
fest, who has given human nature a moral con-
science as well as logical intellectual power, so
that it may understandingly and morally discrim-
inate between right and wrong, and decide what
is useful or injurious to the public welfare? The
public conscience, and particularly public opinion,
are chiefly developed in the middle classes, and
hence so much importance is to be attached to
their judgment, where there is question of the
interests of the community, i. e., of the state. —
“Public opinion,” writes Niebuhr, “is that opin-
ion which arises in minds uncontrolled by per-
sonal influênce—an influence which might mislead
those in power—that opinion which, in spite of the
difference in individuals and of the very different
conditions or situations in which they are placed,
is so unanimously expressed, and not merely re-
peated by one man after another, that it may be
taken as an utterance of universal truth and rea-
son, and even as the voice of God himself.” Pub-
lic opinion may be compared to the chorus in
ancient tragedy, which, observing the actions and
sufferings of the dramatis personab, gives expres-
sion to the emotions and opinions of the common
consciousness of all. On the whole, it is equiva-
lent to the verdict of a jury in a case of law. —
Public opinion is formed by innumerable impres-
sions and observations, by deliberations in the
various spheres of society. But it is always con-
trolled and determined by the public conscience
and the established principles of the nation. It
manifests itself in the most varied forms, in free
public speech, in the family, in the drawing room
and the tavern, in meetings of every kind, and,
above all, in the press and the national representa-
tions of the people. In the latter it becomes even
an organic political expression, while otherwise it
manifests itself in a more unorganized and change-
able manner. It sometimes fluctuates, like life
itself, but it is also susceptible of instruction, and
often follows the leaders who are competent to
communicate ideas to the educated classes and to
influence them. Public opinion courts criticism,
while it is not unreceptive of enlightenment offered
by superior minds. In the same degree that schools
and means for the education of the young are pro-
vided, the public sense and love of truth and jus-
tice increase. Besides, public opinion is subject
to the direction of the prevailing spirit of the age,
by which it is determined and moved. But, once
its judgment has been fixed, determined by the
pressure of some general necessity, it becomes a
power which crushes all imprudent resistance and
which commands attention. — It is not true, that
public opinion reigns, since it can neither rule, nor
is it desirous of ruling. It leaves the government
to those intrusted with it. It is not a creative, but
pre-eminently a controlling, power It is no part
of the public authority, but belongs to the na-
tional life. Only exceptionally does it change
from its passive attitude to an active one, when
the course pursued by those administering public
affairs is in opposition to it. It is a public power,
but not a public force. BLUNTSCHLI.
PUBLIC POLICY. This term, in legal accep-
tation, denotes the principle of government and
law which aims at the general welfare, as dis-
tinguished from the welfare of particular individ-
uals, and courts of law do not allow their deci-
sions to conflict with this public policy. Our
tribunals do not confine their justice te the parties
before them. As plaintiff and defendant are rep-
resented by counsel, so the people is represented
by the court, and it is its duty to protect the in-
terests of the people. A litigant might prove the
clearest right to relief, so far as his adversary is
concerned, and yet if his right would in any way
injure the public, it must be denied. There are
three kinds of relief which the court is bound to
refuse on public grounds, viz.: first, that which
conflicts with positive law, the expressed wish and
command of the people, e. g., relief based on a
contract to evade the revenue laws by smuggling;
second, that which is immoral or contra bomos
Anores, i. e., which would have an immoral effect
on the public, such as a judgment for rent under
the lease of a house for disorderly purposes; third,
all other relief which can interfere with the pub-
lic welfare. Each of these three classes of cases
may properly be said to be “against public pol-
icy,” but this expression is usually confined to the
last class, and the claims of positive law and pub-
lic morality are permitted to stand by themselves.
—The third class of cases is somewhat indefinite.
The common law always strove to be definite, and
sought for exact precedents. Hence a general
discretionary power in the court to declare that a
contract or will is void as against public policy,
would seem to be repugnant to the established
rules of law. Such a power has, however, been
held to exist, and, as might have been expected, it
gained currency in an anomalous way. The gen-
eral principle, that a condition in a contract which
is “against the general good" can not be enforced,
was recognized in England at a very early date in
Sheppard’s “Touchstone.” Bracton hints at it
(book iii., p. 100), and lord Coke seems to regard
as void those conditions which are “repugnant to
the state.” Still, the law on the subject was not
developed and formulated until a much later day,
when it became closely associated and even iden-
tified with the law of wagers. The English judges
had by some mischance decided that wagers could
be enforced at law, although in other civilized
countries the contrary rule prevailed. They dis-
covered afterward how pernicious the effects of
betting were, and how much of the time of the
courts was wasted in determining trivial questions,
PUBLIC POLICY.
481
but it was too late to retract. They could not
then hold all wagers illegal, but they found some
relief in the doctrine of public policy. Whenever
they could, they decided that particular wagers
were invalid, as against public policy, and they
displayed considerable ingenuity in extending the
number of such cases. Thus, a wager on the sex
of a third person was held void, as it tended to
call forth indecent evidence, although such evi-
dence would not be considered an objection in any
Other case. A bet upon an election was not en-
forced, as it might have influenced votes, and the
public is interested in removing such influence
from the polls. In short, any wager upon public
matters would have been held bad, because it
would have created a dangerous interest in public
affairs. So in Gilbert vs. Sykes, 16 East, 150,
(1812), it appeared that in 1802 Sir Marks Sykes
received a hundred guineas from one Gilbert,
promising in return to pay Gilbert a guinea a day
until the death of Napoleon Bonaparte, who was
then first consul. The wager arose out of a con-
versation upon the probability of his assassination.
Lord Ellenborough, the chief justice, said, “When-
ever the tolerating of any species of contract has
a tendency to produce a public mischief or incon-
venience, such a contract has been held to be void.”
The court decided that this contract was illegal,
as it would naturally create a desire to assassinate
a public enemy, contrary to the law of nations.
In the case of Eltham vs. Kingsman, 1 Barn. &
Ald., 683, (1818), the rule was carried to an ex-
treme, although the court disposed of the issue on
another point. One proprietor of livery carriages
at Cheltenham bet watches with another proprietor
that a certain Col. Longford would go to the as-
sembly in his “fly by night” (a vehicle) and no
other. The court held that the wager was void,
because it would tend to subject Longford to great
inconvenience by exposing him to the importuni-
ties of the proprietors of these vehicles, one of the
judges remarking that “any person who has
walked through Piccadilly must be sensible that
this is no small inconvenience.” Finally, those
wagers were held bad, 1, which tended to create
an improper bias in the mind of a person with re-
lation to some public duty (as in the election case
above mentioned), or, 2, which had a tendency to
injure third persons or the public. Such wagers
were regarded as “against public policy.”—Mean-
while the doctrine of public policy spread through
all branches of the law. The courts, after intro-
ducing the principle into the law of wagers, soon
found that it was applicable to many other sub-
jects of litigation. It has now been definitely set-
tled that any contract or will may be declared void
as against public policy, if it be calculated to injure
either, 1, the government in its foreign relations,
or 2, the government in its domestic relations and
the administration of justice, or 3, the public gen-
erally by restraining the freedom of individuals.
Under the first head, viz., of contracts, etc., inju-
rious to the government in its foreign relations,
are included those which benefit an enemy or
150 VOL. III. — 31
affront a friendly state. Consequently it is held
that “as the presumed object of war is as much
to Cripple the enemy’s commerce as to capture his
property, a declaration of war imports a prohibi-
tion of commercial intercourse and correspond-
ence with the inhabitants of the enemy's country,
and that such intercourse is illegal,” (Esposito vs.
Bowden, 7 Ellis & Blackb., 763, 779); and a con-
tract between citizens of two countries is annulled
by a subsequent war, as it is against public policy
to enforce it. “On the principles of the English
law, it is not competent to any subject to enter into
a contract to do anything which may be detri-
mental to the interests of his own country.”
(Furtado vs. Rogers, 3 B. & P., 191, 198.) The
Second division, viz., of contracts, etc., injurious
to the government in its domestic relations and
the administration of justice, embraces all agree-
ments contemplating the bribery of public officers,
executive, legislative or judicial, or of any person
having some public duty to perform, such as
voting. The leading English case on the doctrine
of public policy is Egerton vs. Earl Brounlow, 4
House of Lords Cases, 1, and it has reference to
corruptinfluence of this kind. The earl of Bridge-
water died leaving a will, in which he left a very
large estate to a certain legatee on condition that
he should obtain the title of duke or marquis of
Bridgewater. The house of lords held the condi-
tion invalid, as it held out a temptation to the
legatee to indulge in bribery in endeavoring to
obtain the title. In short, contracts creating an
interest at variance with a duty are void. The
sale of offices is also against public policy. So is
the assignment of salary, not yet due, by a pub-
lic officer. It is for the interest of the public that
he should be able to support himself while he is
in office, and he can not place his future salary
out of his power. Again, it is illegal to compound
a felony or misdemeanor, viz., to refrain from its
prosecution for any consideration. This is against
public policy, because it frustrates justice; and,
for the same reason, maintenance and champerty,
i. e., the impertinent encouragement and assist-
ance of litigation by persons who are not inter-
ested, vitiates contracts, Agreements not to bid
at judicial sales are void, and, indeed, all auction
sales are carefully scrutinized to prevent frauds
upon the public. Under the third class, viz., of
contracts, etc., which are injurious to the pub-
lic generally, as restraining the freedom of indi-
viduals, the most important are contracts made
in restraint of trade. A man can not bind himself
not to carry on his business. The people at large
are interested that he should earn a living for
himself and his family, and not become a pauper,
and that there should be the freest competition in
all trades and professions. The enforcement of
contracts, taking away the right of men to pursue
their callings, would discourage industry, diminish
products, prevent competition, enhance prices,
and introduce monopoly. A man may bind him-
self not to trade within certain limits; e. g., a
retiring partner may agree with his copartners
482
QUARANTINE.
not to compete with his firm in a certain town,
the seller of a business with the buyer, or a
Servant with a master who undertakes to teach
him the Secrets of his art; but these are manifestly
Wise exceptions, based on peculiar grounds. A
father can not abdicate his parental rights. It is
the interest of the public that paternal authority
should be upheld. An agreement not to marry
can not be enforced; nor can an agreement not to
marry any one except a certain person ; nor a
“marriage-brocage contract”; viz., a promise to
pay a person a sum of money if he can induce a
Certain person to marry the promisor. All these
Contracts interfere with freedom of choice in mar-
riage, and imperil the happiness of that domestic
system in which the people has everything at
stake. An agreement to use influence with a tes-
tator is also against public policy, — But it is need-
less to multiply instances. The main point to be
remembered is, that the court always protects the
interests of the people. Enough examples have
been cited to show the nature of that protection
in England and America. Our judges are always
ready to annul engagements which are “against
public policy,” but it is probable that the princi-
ple will never be extended much further, for, as
has been ably said, it is paramount public policy
to allow freedom in making contracts, and to en-
force them as made. (19 Equity, 462.)— See
Pollock on Contracts, 251 et seq.; 1 Story’s Equity
Jurisprudence, § 259, note 1; Hubbard, J., in
Sedgwick vs. Stanton, 14 New York Reports,
289, 291. ERNEST HOWARD CROSBY.
PUBLIC REVENUES. (See Revenues,
PUBLIC.)
Q
U AR ANTINE. Theory of Quarantine.
Quarantine is a regulation based upon the
law of self-preservation, by which persons and
things coming from an infected region or place
are subjected to a period of detention. Quaran-
tine is either maritime quarantine, or land quar-
antine (cordon sanitaire); the former applicable to
water craft, and the latter to all vehicles of trans-
portation on shore or to pedestrians. It is now
based upon the principle that all contagious dis-
eases have their origin in a specific, particulate
germ or poison, which is capable of being con-
veyed from place to place. Belief in this theory
of contagion is nearly universal, yet the doctrine
of the prevention of epidemic diseases by means
of quarantine is differently viewed by different
nations. Thus, England, for example, by rea-
son of her insular situation, and the length of
time required to reach her ports from infected
regions, has not heretofore found it necessary to
exact the long detention required by most other
countries, and the medical profession are divided
there, as elsewhere, upon the question whether
cleanliness and sanitary measures alone will serve
to prevent the introduction of contagious diseases,
and their spread from place to place; some hold-
ing that if the ports were always perfectly clean
and in good hygienic condition, there would then
be no need of quarantine; that a clean ship sail-
ing to and from a clean port could in no case
Communicate the contagion; a proposition which
is self-apparent. But every-day experience teaches
us that the millennial period has not yet arrived,
when all cities and common carriers are clean.
Therefore, until hygiene shall become understood
by people of all nations, quarantines in One form
or another are necessary, according to the physi-
cal characteristics of the port, and the presence
or absence of epidemic disease. — The period of
detention at a quarantine was formerly, as the
name implies, forty days; the time has now been
reduced at most quarantines, and, during the ab-
sence of epidemics, a simple inspection is all that
is practiced or required. But the period of de-
tention varies according to the period of incuba-
_tion of the disease quarantined against, and the
time is usually counted from the date of depart-
ure from the last port, or the date of termination
of the last case of sickness on board. — Practice
of guarantôme. A quarantine station usually con-
sists of a hospital for the sick (lazaretto), so named
from the isolation of St. Lazarus on account of
leprosy (mal de Saint Lazare); a boat, usually a
steam vessel, to carry the boarding officer and re-
move the sick, if there be any found on board
vessels, coming into port; and quarters for the
attendants. On arrival of a vessel at the quaran-
tine, she is boarded by an inspecting officer, her
bill of health is examined, the crew and passen-
gers mustered, and the vessel itself inspected in
every part to determine whether it be clean or
foul. At this day the bill of health is not accept-
ed as prima facie evidence of the sanitary condi-
tion of the vessel, but is only corroborative; even
if it be stated thereon that the port from which
the vessel last sailed was free from infectious dis-
ease, the inspector trusts to his own inspection of
the vessel, and examination of the persons on
board and the cargo, to determine whether or not
the vessel should be detained in quarantine. If,
however, the vessel is last from an infected port,
and the period of incubation of the disease has
not elapsed, the vessel is detained in quarantine
until the expiration of that time, whether there
be sickness on board or not. If there be found
contagious sickness, the sick are removed to the
hospital, the bedding and other articles in their
state rooms or berths removed and destroyed, and
the place thoroughly fumigated with the fumes
of burning sulphur. In case the vessel is discov-
QUIDS.
483
•ered to be foul and in an unsanitary condition,
whether there is sickness on board or not, the
vessel is detained in quarantine for the purpose of
cleansing and fumigation, the cargo removed to
a warehouse, or to open lighters, the bilge water
pumped out, and all parts of the vessel fumigat-
ed, and if necessary, painted.— Land Quarantine
(Cordon Sanitaºré). A land quarantine consists in
stationing a guard around an infected place to
prevent the escape of inhabitants until after suit-
able detention; and as well to prevent the ingress
of unacclimated persons likely to furnish fresh
material for the disease. Its success depends en-
tirely upon the vigor and inflexibility with which
it is maintained, and failure has always followed
laxity of administration. In Russia, in 1879, with
other measures, the cordom Sanitaire was success-
fully used to prevent the spread of Oriental plague;
and in Texas, in the United States, the cordon
was successfully maintained against yellow fever
in 1882 under the direction of the surgeon general
of the marine hospital service; and in the same
year by the naval authorities at the Pensacola
navy yard, to prevent the introduction of the dis-
ease from the then infected city of Pensacola, and
while this is being written (September, 1883), an
epidemic of yellow fever has been prevailing on
the naval reservation for upwards of forty days,
which has been prevented from spreading from
the yard by reason of a Cordon Sanitàºre main
tained around it. — Laws of Quarantºne. The
first quarantine regulation in modern times origi-
nated with viscount Bernabo of Reggio, in Italy,
Jan. 17, 1374. In 1448 the first systematic laws
of quarantine were enacted by the Venetian sen-
ate, Venice being at the time the greatest commer-
cial seaport in the world. The present English
quarantine law is based upon the act of 6 Geo.
IV., c. 78, under which act orders in council have
been adopted from time to time, promulgating reg-
ulations necessary to be observed to meet particu-
lar exigencies. The passengers act, 1855 (18 and 19
Vict., c. 119), and the public health act (schedule
v., part iii.), contain provisions affecting vessels
subject to quarantine. In the United States, quar-
antine enactments were passed by the colonial leg-
islatures, and since that time, until a very recent
period, quarantine laws have been enacted by the
several states. The United States passed its first
act respecting quarantine, Feb. 23, 1799, which was
subsequently codified in the Revised Statutes,
sections 4792 to 4800, inclusive. This act was
supplemental to the state quarantine laws, and
required federal officers to aid and assist in the
execution of state or municipal quarantine reg-
ulations. April 29, 1878, a national quarantine
act was passed, authorizing, in Certain Contingen-
cies, the establishment of national quarantines,
and vesting the execution of the law in the sur-
geon general of the marine hospital service. The
portion of the act directing its execution by this
officer was repealed by the act of June 2, 1879,
which itself expired by limitation June 2, 1883;
and although the body of the act of 1878 is still
upon the statute books, no one is charged with
its execution. The appropriation act of March
3, 1883, authorizing an expenditure of $100,000,
to be used in case of threatened or actual epi-
demic, and for maintaining quarantine at points
of danger, conferred upon the president of the
United States authority to maintain quarantine.
In accordance with the discretionary act named,
national maritime quarantines have been main-
tained on the gulf of Mexico, the south Atlantic
coast, and the Chesapeake bay. The expenses of
state quarantines have heretofore been main-
tained by a charge upon the vessel, but a recent
decision by the civil district court of Louisiana,
F. A. Monroe, judge, holds that such fees are in
the nature of a tonnage tax, a tax which the con-
stitution has forbidden states from levying, and
that, while the state has power to establish quar-
antine for the protection of her citizens, she has
no constitutional right to collect this fee from
vessels engaged in commerce. (Morgan's Louis-
iana & Texas Railroad & Steamship Co. vs. Board
of Health of the State of Louisiana.) If therefore,
this decision be sustained by the higher courts, it
would appear to be necessary for the government
to prevent extortionate fees upon shipping, by
taking charge of the maritime or external quaran-
tine for economic reasons; but no such constitu-
tional power has been claimed by any administra-
tion, or held by any court, in regard to munici-
pal health regulations. JOHN B. HAMILTON.
QUIDS (IN U. S. HISTORY), the name applied
to the Randolph faction, in 1805–11. The quar-
rel in which it originated was really only a Vir-
ginia difficulty, a contest as to which of the two
Virginia aspirants should be the successor of Jef-
ferson. The politicians of that state had been
in open antagonism to Washington, had yield-
ed grudgingly to the overwhelming national
strength of Jefferson, and many of them were
disposed to nominate Monroe for the presidency
in 1808, in order at one blow to satisfy their dis-
like to Jefferson and to Madison, who was Jeffer-
Son's choice for the succession. The Ostensible
opposition to Madison was grounded on the lat-
ter's incapacity, his cowardice, his political here-
sies in the “Federalist,” (see that title), and his
general lack of energy. The first breach in the
dominant party occurred on the reference of the
president’s message in December, 1805. That
part which related to the unfriendly actions of
Spain in Florida was referred in the house to
Randolph's committee, as he had been the admin-
istration leader, and he reported in flat opposition
to the president’s views. March 5, 1806, he form-
ally declared war upon the administration as gov-
erning congress by “back-stairs influence,” by
“men who bring messages to this house which
govern its decisions, although they do not appear
on the journals,” and by “the pages of the presi-
dential water-closet.” From that time the name
“quid,” meaning either a tertium quid, as dis-
tinguished from the two great parties, or a cast-
484
RACES OF MANKIND.
Q
out faction, was given to Randolph and a half-
dozen supporters in congress. They opposed the
restrictive system (see EMBARGo) and Madison's
nomination in 1808 (see CAUCUs, CONGRESSION-
AL), and nominated Monroe through a caucus of
part of the Virginia legislature. Monroe's en-
trance into Madison’s cabinet, April 2, 1811,
ended the existence of the faction. — See 3 Ben-
ton's Debates of Congress, 426; 1 Garland's Life of
Randolph, 215, 277; 4 Jefferson's Works (edit.
1829), 44; 5 Hildreth’s United States, 566.
- ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
R
ACES OF MANKIND. Formerly an article
on races would with difficulty have found
place in a political encyclopædia, for men had
not then come to consider this question as any-
thing more than one of anthropology and natural
history, and did not imagine that the differences
which they noticed in the different tribes of the
great human family could possess as much inter-
est for the historian and the moralist as for the
naturalist or the physiologist. It is only in our
own day that general ethnology has become an
important branch of the historical sciences, and
that men have conceived the idea of seeking, in
the physical origin of peoples, for the secret of
their destinies and an explanation of the results
which they have accomplished, or in which they
have participated. Until very recently, historians
acknowledged in the history of humanity but one
Sole physical influence, that of climate, and, as is
well known, it is to this incontestable influence
alone, that Montesquieu attributed the differences
of character which are found among peoples,
and, as a consequence, the differences of the laws
and institutions that govern them. This notion
of climate, formerly so important, is to-day reck-
oned among the secondary causes, and plays only
a secondary part, in the explanation of historical
phenomena. The theory of races has taken its
place completely. There are those who take alarm
at this, and pretend that we have merely ex-
changed one materialistic theory for another more
materialistic still; but such alarm is ill-founded,
and true spiritualism, on the contrary, achieved
an undeniable victory the day that the theory of
races replaced that of the influence of climate in
historical science; for it then ceased seeking in
the external influences of matter alone for the
Secret of human destiny, and applied itself to the
study of man himself for the explanation of man’s
moral and political life. Fatality, it is true, ever
rules in the theory of races as in the theory of
climate, but this fatality has at least the merit of
being so intimately united to the being which it
governs, that it is mingled with the very fact of
his existence, and for man to rebel against it.
would be as if he were to rebel against himself. —
This notion of races is, moreover, moral, and, so
to speak, spiritual, in its Origin. In fact, it was
not the progress of the natural Sciences and of
physiology that led the philosophers and histo-
rians of our time to adopt this theory, which
holds that every tribe of the great human family
carries within itself its own destiny, but rather
the progress of the science of philology. From
the modern Science of comparative philology is.
drawn, among other general results, this impor-
tant conclusion, that all the nations that speak.
languages which can be traced back to a common
Source, exhibit analogous faculties and aptitudes,
and that, with some shades of difference, they
have had the same historical development.
is language as well.
ment of the moral man? It is therefore the mind,
which is thus reached through the medium of
language, as well as the physical conformation of
the body, that determines race.
ical characteristics should manifest such unequal
abilities and such dissimilar instincts, and should
follow such contrary ideals of civilization, if,
despite their external points of resemblance, their
The flesh.
minds were not radically different?
It is.
not, therefore, merely physical characteristics, a.
yellow, black or white skin, smooth or wooly hair,
oblique or horizontal eyes, that constitute race: it.
Now, what is language if it.
be not the expression of the inner man, the instru-
In fact, how can.
We understand that nations having the same phys-
relationship, which seemed so conclusive, was,
after all, but superficial.
lies: the Indo-Germanic and the Semitic races.
Thus this historical theory of races, which has.
been subjected to so many accusations of mate-
rialism, has resulted from the most profound.
meditation upon language, the noblest of man's.
We have just seen, however, that it.
Sought its principle and starting point far beyond.
physical man, in invisible and moral man. — Man-
attributes.
kind is divided, physically, into three great races,
entirely distinct in appearance, color, and even in,
anatomical structure: the black or Ethiopian race,
the yellow or Mongolian race, and the white or
These are the only three pure and
All the other races, the red.
Caucasian race.
simple types of man.
race, the Malayan-Polynesian races, etc., are but
varieties and mixtures of these three primitive:
The particular characteristics that distin-
guish each of these three types are so marked that.
many of the learned have considered them, not as,
I’8,CéS.
different modes, so to speak, of the same human
type, but as three distinct types, as three patterns.
of the human form. Here naturally arises the
great question of the unity of the human species.
Is there but one, or are there several types of
This is especially true.
of the white or Caucasian race, which philologists.
have been obliged to divide into two great fami-
ſº
RACES OF MANKIND.
485
humanity? We shall not presume to analyze this
question, which belongs more especially to natur-
alists and physiologists, but we do not hesitate to
declare our belief in the unity of the species.
The opinion which admits several human types
seems at first sight to render a more rational
account of the existence of the different races,
than the opinion which admits only one; but even
after a superficial examination, we perceive that,
if it is difficult to explain how the different hu-
man races sprung from the same primitive source,
it is still more difficult to explain the existence of
three primitive types; in other words, it is easier
to admit that nature performed her work after
one pattern, which she modified according to
climate and time, than to admit that she followed
three different patterns. In fact, in order to es-
tablish the theory which recognizes several human
types, we would have to admit that these types
are rigorously immutable, that they were settled
once and forever at the time of their origin, that
they are permanent and essential, that they ex-
isted before all mixture of them, and that they
will resist all such mixture. But the physics of
life and nature do not recognize the scientific
rigor and exclusive precision of physics of learned
men. Nature is not angular; it waves and floats;
and the limits of its provinces are singularly un-
certain and difficult to determine. To be sure, it
is very easy to distinguish the black race and the
yellow race from the white race; but where does
the black race end? Where does the yellow race
end? These races, so clearly marked, melt at
their extremes into, and are confounded with, our
own, spite of the fact that they seem so entirely
distinct from it. The Berber, the Abyssinian
and the Nubian differ from the white race only
in the color of their skin; men hesitate to rank
them with the black race by the same title as
the Kafirs, or the negroes of Congo. The Turks
are unquestionably of Mongolian Origin; must
we, however, continue to class them as belong-
ing to the yellow race, or grant them the right
to be numbered among Caucasians?—Whatever
may be the solution of this difficult and perhaps
insoluble question of the unity of the human
‘species, this one thing is incontestably true, viz.,
that history proves the coexistence of these three
races upon the earth from the earliest period, and
that the oldest legends show them to us contend-
ing with one another in that part of the Asiatic
continent which is regarded as the cradle of the
human race. The primitive population of India,
that impure and bestial people which was con-
quered by the noble race of the Aryas, our an-
cestors, was of the black race, and very probably
of the same blood as the natives of Australia;
and the land of Turan, the land of darkness and
evil spirits, which the Persian legends oppose to
Iran, or the land of light, was occupied by peo-
ples of the Mongolian race. But the three races
which we thus see in juxtaposition, so to speak,
in the infancy of the world, have singularly sep-
arated each from the other, although they have
frequently and in numerous cases intermingled,
and thus given birth to new peoples. Each of
these three races inhabits more especially some
one continent, which may be considered as its legit-
imate country. Africa belongs to the black race;
Asia, with the exception of Hindostan, of Per-
sia, Arabia and Armenia, to the Mongolian race;
and Europe, entirely to the Caucasian. Each
of these continents seems so especially intended
for the race which inhabits it, that the other races
could not retain their purity in it. Thus, the Afri-
cans of the north have received the impress of
the black race; the Caucasian peoples of Asia
have undergone a greater or less admixture of
Mongolian or Finnish blood; and the Caucasian
race dissolved and appropriated the foreign races
which established themselves upon its own conti-
ment, the Hungarians, the Turks, etc. — But if
history shows us the three great human races co-
existing from the earliest antiquity, it is far from
assigning them the same rank and attributing to
them the same importance. All three are possessed
of aptitudes for civilization, but these aptitudes,
which are rudimentary and purely instinctive in
the negro, and strong, but narrow and restricted,
in the Mongolian, have an almost infinite power
of expansion in the Caucasian. To speak Cor-
rectly, history belongs to the white race, and to no
other. Civilization is its true work, and all the
societies, political or other, formed by the men of
the other races, are but imperfect, gross or repul-
sive figures of those which had their origin in the
white race. It is through the Caucasian race that
man has taken possession of the earth; it is
through it that he has broken and every day breaks
the net-work of external fatalities with which
nature surrounded him. All the different relig-
ions of mankind sprung up under the pressure of
the force of sympathy of that race; all the litera-
tures of the world were produced by the glow of
its imagination; its power of invention seems in-
exhaustible, and its fertility of combination in-
finite. Only its labor has been blessed, for only
its labor has been truly fruitful. When we take
a rapid glance at all that has been accomplished
by our race, we experience a feeling similar to
that experienced by the traveler, who, from a
mountain height, sees spread before his eyes cul-
tivated fields and rich cities, and we feel Ourselves
taken hold of by veneration and respect.—We do
not experience entirely the same feeling when we
survey the aggregate of the works of the Mongo-
lian race. As far as the eye can reach, we behold
only immense steppes, cut here and there by gigan-
tic swarms of human beings. We no longer feel
veneration and respect, but wonder, fear, and, to
some extent, contempt. We feel as though we
were in the presence of an enemy, and We fear to
see these swarms scattered, broken and fall upon
the rich fields which we contemplated awhile be-
fore. The Mongolian race is the great obstacle
that opposes the development of real civilization.
When we endeavor to discover what benefits it
has conferred upon humanity, we are filled with
486
RACES OF MANKIND.
dismay at the conviction we must come to, that it .
has conferred none, unless it be that it has afford-
ed an asylum to Buddhism, when the latter was
driven from India, and that it developed Budd-
hism within its boundaries. It developed it, but
it did not create it. A truly atheistical race, de-
void of all noble instincts, it was necessary for a
man of the Aryan race to give it the only religion
suited to its instincts, and to teach it the only
truly efficacious consolation in the miseries of this
life, toward which its avaricious, acrid and strong
mind is incessantly turned. The part played in
history by the Mongolian race has ever been
merely accidental, and has always been fatal.'
The Mongolians have figured as conquerors and
devastators, and in this quality have caused some
of the greatest movements recorded in the annals
of mankind. Their aptitude for civilization is
real, but singularly narrow and limited. The
Mongolian race believes only in force, and the
sabre driven into the ground, which the hordes
of Attila adored, is its real god. The most per-
fect, most moral and most peaceful of the politi-
cal communities it has produced, the Chinese na-
tion, forms no exception to this general rule, much
as it may be believed that it does worship any-
thing but force; it has no idea of the value of
human life, of the true dignity of man, or of real
law. This innate belief in force, however, gives
to the peoples of the Mongolian race eminent
political capacity, which renders them singularly
formidable, the capacity for domination. Wher-
ever they pass, life dries up and becomes extinct,
it is true, but they establish themselves in such
places, and last. The societies which they form,
though old and decrepit, still maintain them-
selves with a strength of resistance that is truly
extraordinary; but if their civilization lasts a long
time, it also attains its limit very rapidly, and
never renews itself. The old age of Mongolian
states is infinitely longer than their youth or
maturity. Their force soon reaches the limit of
its expansion, and soon finds its point of equilib-
rium and rest, which is immobility. This is a
perfect résumé of the history of the Mongolian
races. They overflow like a furious torrent; but,
this moment of destructive expansion once passed,
they enter again into the repose of stagnation,
and maintain themselves by the bare volume and
weight of their population.—The black race ranks
last in the Scale of races. This unfortunate race
shows us man approaching almost to the brute
species. Down to the present time the negro race
has produced nothing, has done nothing, for hu-
manity, either for good or evil. So far as any po-
litical Society is concerned, it is made up of a col-
lection of hostile tribes perpetually warring with
one another; its religion consists of ridiculous,
infamous or bloody fetichism; and when we have
said this, we have told the history of the black
race. It is only in our own times that a moral
ray has begun to enlighten this African continent,
in consequence of the expansion of the Caucasian
race on the one hand, and, on the other, of the
spread of Islamism; which, though stagnant every-
where else, has cast itself upon Africa, which it
is about to civilize by means of the sword and the
Koran. The bestial appearance of the negro, his.
instincts, at once childish and fierce, his ridiculous.
vanity and superstitious credulity, his virtues,
which may be compared to those of the dog, and
his vices, which resemble only those of the feline.
species, have at all times excited the horror of the
other human races, which have refused almost to
allow him the name of man, and which have made.
the abhorrence which they feel toward him a rea-
son for denying him all justice, and for pitilessly
compelling him to serve the ends of their cupidity.
Slavery seemed the natural condition of this mis-
erable race, and servitude the only means of bring-
ing them under the influence of civilization. The
negro is not, however, without an aptitude for
civilization; but this aptitude seems to be limited
to only one faculty, extreme sociability. Bestial
or not, the negro, if he is not, as many pretend,
capable of great culture, is, however, capable of
tenderness, love and devotion; if it is difficult to
develop his mind, it is very easy, on the other
hand, to develop his heart. His sensibility leaves.
nothing to be desired, and even surpasses that of
the other races. If he is not the white man’s.
equal, he can live with him: he has nothing of the
haughty and taciturn manner of those Savage
races that fly before the face of civilization and
pine away solitary and silent in the Society of men
of the white race. Far from perishing, he, on the
contrary, flourishes in the bosom of Caucasian.
civilization. This sociability of the negro is a
very great moral fact, which pleads loudly in favor
of his race, and refutes the opinion which holds.
that he is incapable of civilization. Whether he
is inferior to the other races or not, it is evident
that he accommodates himself perfectly to civil-
ization, and finds in it nothing hostile to his in-
stincts.- The other human races, the red race (the
North American Indians), the Malay-Polynesian
race, the boreal race (Finlanders, Laplanders, Es.
quimaux, etc.), may be considered as mixtures of
the three great races, or as degenerations of the
three primitive types. These races have in gen-
eral shown themselves singularly barren in 'a.
moral sense. They live in the savage state or in
an extremely rude state of society; the Mexicans.
and Peruvians, however, reached a very advanced.
state of civilization, and different peoples of Fin-
nish and boreal origin have mingled in the civil-
ization of Europe, and become thoroughly amal-
gamated with it. The boreal race possesses a pe-
culiar characteristic: it is a sort of physiological
cross-road, and the peoples that compose it serve
as a passage from one race to another. On the
one hand, it is related to the Caucasian race, and
on the other, to the red race of America; and it re-
minds us, by the traits of most of the tribes which
compose it, of the Mongolian race, of which it is.
probably a degeneration.—The Caucasian or white
race is divided into two great branches: the Sem-
itic race, and the Indo-European or Japhetic race.
RACES OF MANKIND.
487
All the civilization of modern humanity has come
from these two races; to the Semitic race we owe
our religious and moral life, our life of conscience;
to the Japhetic race we owe our intellectual, po-
litical and social life. — The Semitic race, which
is now singularly reduced in numbers, dissemi-
nated and mixed by the dispersion of the Jews over
the whole surface of the globe, and by the exten-
sion of the conquests of Islamism, comprised, in
olden times, the Hebrews, the Arabs, the Phoeni.
cians, and the numerous tribes which the Bible
mentions as perpetually warring against their
neighbors the Israelites, such as the Canaanites,
the Amalekites, etc. Despite the exclusive spirit
of this race, which endeavored, more than any
Other, to preserve its purity, and which always
considered the nation as the family enlarged, it
did not escape the happy fatality of crossing and
admixture, and even from the very earliest anti-
quity, it seems to have received a very strong in-
fusion of Hamitic blood. . The tribes of Canaan
were but a mixed race, half Hamitic, half Semitic,
and the Hamitic element manifests itself in an un-
mistakable manner in the civilization of Phoenicia.
The Semitic element is also met with, in propor.
tions which it is rather difficult to state exactly,
in those first mighty attempts at civilization which
ancient history presents to us under the names of
Babylon and Nineveh. The Egyptians themselves
were also, in all probability, but a mixture of
Semitic and Hamitic peoples, and their civiliza-
tion, which, even to this day, excites our wonder
and admiration, was the result of the combined
genius of these two great races. No matter what
may be said of these admixtures, the true Shemite
would not have recognized them, and would not
recognize them to-day. For him, the true race of
Shem was to be found in Israel, and he admitted
but one brother, Ishmael, and even branded that
One as a bastard. The Jews and Arabs, there-
fore, to-day, compose the entire Semitic family;
the ancient spirit of exclusion and the ancient prej-
udice have triumphed, for the fatality of history
has brought about the successive disappearance of
all these civilizations and all these peóples which
the descendants of the patriarchs rejected as im-
pure and tainted with idolatry. — The moral life
of the Semitic race has been at once the most ex-
alted and the simplest known to man. Born under
a tent, reared in the desert, and grown up in the
habits of nomadic life, it has ever ignored the
complicated methods of life of other races. It
knows but one sentiment, religious sentiment;
but one life, the life of conscience. This simplic-
ity of soul has engendered an extraordinary social
simplicity: the ties which bind men to one another
among the Semitic races are at once the closest
and the freest which the mind can conceive. The
Shemite does not khow the meaning of the polit-
Žcal state, he has no idea of a civil power distinct
from the religious power, of a society distinct
from the family, of rights and duties proceeding
from any other source than God. Man has no mas-
ter above him but God, and on earth he owes obe-
dience only to those to whom he owes his life,
and who are subject to the same master as him-
self. Religion, therefore, is everything in this
Semitic Society; the fatherland is the temple, the
nation is the family, the king is God, the law
which punishes crime is the same as that which
admonishes the conscience. Theocracy is the
natural form of government of such a race; and
this it has never abandoned either in the most
brilliant or the most perilous moments of its his-
tory. The same genius everywhere attends the
Shemite, whether he be nomadic or sedentary;
whether he live under a tent or in a city, whether
he be a shepherd or conqueror, whether he lead a
patriarchal life or be the founder of empires. The
Hebrew monarchy never was a monarchy after
the oriental fashion, and the kings of Israel en-
deavored in vain to prevail over the power of
Jehovah, the ancient master of their people. The
Arabian conquest and the establishment of the
Societies introduced by Islamism wrought no
change in the simplicity of the Semitic intellect,
and failed to teach it to distinguish between polit-
ical power and religious power, between the citizen
and the believer. The caliphate was the grand
expression of this genius, powerless to conceive
the idea of a state under any but a theocratic
form. — This synthetic genius of a single shoot,
this inability to divide man, enabled the Semitic
race to conceive and preserve their religion free
from all alteration, which religion became that of
the human race. All the feelings of the Semitic
race concentrating into one, that one acquired
extraordinary depth, elevation and power. The
men of the Semitic race not serving two masters,
God took entire possession of them, and while the
sojourn in the desert separated them from the brill-
iant, voluptuous or terrible visions of nature, the
vision of their sovereign master was revealed to
them in all his majesty and all his grandeur. The
Shemite, therefore, was able, for all these reasons,
to conceive God as an infinite and all-powerful
Being, immutable and eternal, one and perfect,
as a pure spirit, master of the world, with which
he has no affinity of nature or of substance.
This idea, which some of our modern metaphy-
sicians may even consider narrow and arid, but
which astonishes us by its moral elevation and its
abstract grandeur and purity, when we contrast it
with the imaginative conceptions and the coarse
and deformed symbols of other peoples, im-
pressed the Semitic tribes themselves, just as it
has impressed the rest of the Caucasian race,
which has finally adopted it as the basis of its
faith, and inspired the Shemites with a pride
which has always manifested itself in the exclu-
sion of other races, and in a contempt for other
religions. They exerted their every power to pre-
serve their religion pure from all idolatry, and
they found powerful auxiliaries for the accom-
plishment of this task in the simplicity of their
social state and in their proximity to the desert.—
Nearly all the nations of modern Europe belong
to the Japhetic or Indo-Germanic races. This
488
RACES OF MANKIND,
name of Indo-Germanic has been given them by
comparative philology, which has established the
relationship of nearly all the European nations
by the analogy of their different languages with
the sacred language of India, the Sanscrit. This
analogy once established, the consequence was
easily drawn; since the Sanscrit was the common
Source of the languages of the different peoples of
Europe, these peoples must evidently have sprung
from a common source, and are all but branches
of the race whose language the Sanscrit was.
What was this race? and what country did it first
inhabit? The most recent researches in ethnology
and philology have established the fact that this
part of the great Caucasian family from which
the Indo-Germanic races have sprung, inhabited
that part of Asia which extends from the Cau-
casus to Bactriana, and was divided into two
great tribes, the Aryans and the Iranians. The
Aryans are the source of the superior classes of
Hindostan, which country they conquered; the
Iranians have continued even to the present time
almost without admixture in Persia, of which
country they still form the chief population.
Everything that is of any capital importance to
us, in the civilizations of the ancient east, every-
thing that interests our imagination in the history
of Asia, everything of oriental origin that has
contributed, either directly or indirectly, to our
modern life, comes to us from these ancestors of
Our race. The aristocratic system of caste, Brah-
manism, and later on, Buddhism, are the work
of men of the Aryan race; the vast undertaking
of the military and administrative monarchy of
ancient Persia, and the religion of the two prin-
ciples, are the work of men of the Iranian race.
— The Japhetic race, the most enterprising, the
most movable and the most inventive of all the
races, seems to have early felt the love of enter-
prise and adventure. If we would present, under
a brief and poetic form, what our imagination per-
ceives confusedly in these remote ages, we must
take as symbols of the genius of our ancestors,
two characters in the great tragedy of Æschylus,
who knew some of the secrets of some of the
Origins of our race, Prometheus and Io, two
victims of ambition, adventure and enterprise.
Prometheus admirably symbolizes the boldness
of invention of the Japhetic race; and the wild
course of Io, goaded by the breeze-fly, their long-
ing for emigration and travel; and, if the word
be not too mean to use in speaking on such a sub-
ject, I would freely add, the mania for change of
place which seems to have possessed our barba-
rous ancestors. The same love of conquest which
urged on the Aryans in India, impelled, at differ-
ent times, other tribes of the Japhetic race into
Europe, and many successive emigrations, the
dates of which are uncertain, landed them upon
that continent, until at length they gained entire
possession of it. The actual descendants of the
peoples who effected these old migrations are di-
vided into innumerable families, but they may
be all ranked under five principal heads: the
Celtic race, the Germanic race, the Slavic race,
the Latin race, and the Greek race. — None of
these races is to-day free from admixture, and in
some of them the primitive type and genius of
the race have almost entirely disappeared before
the frequency and violence of crossings with
other races. Thus, the Latin race, the stock
from which the Italian nation of to-day has come,
has been singularly changed for the worse by the
admixture of Greek, German, Ligurian and Gal-
lic blood which it underwent in the course of its
long history; in France the Celtic blood has been
intermingled with Roman and German blood; in
Spain the Iberian, with Gothic and Moorish blood;
the Germanic tribes, especially in the extreme lim-
its of the vast country which they inhabit, have
received a strong infusion of Slavic blood; and
the Slaves, subject to an influx of German and
Greek blood, mingled with Mongolian and Ougro-
Finnish, can scarcely be said to be any purer than
the others, although they are the latest comers
among the civilized nations, and their primitive
type should, in consequence, be less worn out
than that of their sister races, by the fatigues of
history and the labor of centuries. – The oldest
in the civilization of the races of Europe, is the
Greek or Ionian race, the sons of Javan (Ionians),
as the Bible calls them, a race which succeeded,
on Hellenic soil, to a race called Pelasgic. Next
after the Semitic race, this race has rendered the
greatest services to civilization. If humanity owes
all its religious development to the Semitic race,
it owes all its intellectual development to the
Greek race. It truly deserves the name of the
chosen race among the Japhetic nations, as did
the Jewish people among the descendants of Shem.
They are the true sons of Io and Prometheus, and
when we see the mighty gifts which their imper-
ishable works still present to our admiration, we
are almost inclined to believe that their emigra-
tion carried off the cream of the entire youth of
the great Japhetic family. It is to them we owe
that religion of polytheism, that brilliant inven-
tion of poetic and graceful minds, which subdued
and humanized the old natural religions, and
which, by confounding the mysterious forces
of the world with human force, produced that
conception of the poetic ideal which has since
become the true religion of all poets; for this
conception holds the same place in literature that
the dream of moral perfection does in religion.
It was the Greek race that transformed the bar-
barous industries of primitive times, and devel-
oped the fine arts out of the useful trades, just as
it had developed the literary ideal from the religion
of nature. In all intellectual matters We reap to-
day the benefits of Greek civilization; we are in-
debted to it for our knowledge of the rules of arch-
itecture and sculpture; we have received from it
our philosophy; and half the literature of mod-
ern Europe is but an offshoot of the literature of
Greece. Finally, when Christianity appeared in
the world, it was Greece that undertook to form
its dogmas for it, to construct its metaphysics,
RACES OF MANKIND.
489
and to define its mysteries. Christianity owes the
speculative part of its character to the Greek
race, as it owes its political Organization to the
Roman race. It was the Greek race also that in-
stilled civilization into the barbaric races, against
which it defended the Byzantine empire during a
thousand years, so that the civilization of the fu-
ture, as well as that of the past, belongs to Greece;
for the Slaves, who threaten Europe with a renew-
al or making over again, represent the Byzan-
tine civilization, and consequently the Greek mind.
Crushed by three centuries of oppression, invad-
•ed by barbarism which has incessantly flowed
in upon it for fifteen centuries, marred by ad-
mixtures of Slavic and Turkish blood, the Greek
race of to-day is not what it was; nevertheless,
we still recognize in the modern Greeks the
traits of the ancient type, and the qualities of the
ancient genius of the race, just as we recognize
the beauty of a statue, despite the mutilations
which it has received, and the distinctness of a
likeness, spite of the rust which covers it. — The
Latins, who are the source from which the Italian
people sprang, present a most marked contrast to
the Greek race, a contrast which must have been
peculiarly striking in the beginning, and which is
attested by the differences of the civilizations of
the Greeks and the Romans. As the Greek race
is lively, pliable, made for labor and intelligence,
so the Latin race is strong, serious, heavy, made
for conquest, domination and practical interests.
If the Greek race has the appearance of being
made up of the youth of the Japhetic race, the
Latin race has the appearance of being composed
of an emigration of sedate men, who had reached
the age of serious interests, and know no other
sentiment than ambition, half sacerdotal and half
warlike. This twofold character is found in the
origin of the Latin race; through Etruria it is sa-
cerdotal, through Rome it is warlike; but neither
religion nor glory is its end; with it everything
speedily takes a worldly and practical turn. It
knows only force and interest; but how well it
Rnows these! It was Rome that created the organ-
ization of force called conquest, and that organ-
ization of interests called administration. But it
did not stop here. Inspired by its rugged and
powerful genius, it raised its concrete notions of
force and interest to the height of absolute ab-
stractions; it created the metaphysics of force, and
called it politics, and the metaphysics of interest,
to which it gave the name of jurisprudence. This
instinct is so strong that it does not overlook even
things which seem most opposed to it, literature
and religion. Sacerdotal rather than truly relig-
ious, as soon as Christianity was presented to it,
it hastened to organize it, and gave to it, in the
Catholic church and the papacy, its own political
institutions. The essential traits of this profound-
ly positive genius and of this character made for
domination and the enjoyment of earthly goods,
are found again in the Italians of the middle ages
and of modern times, but with important modifi-
Cations, brought about by time, the accidents of
history and the intermingling of races. The
centre of the Latin race was changed during the
middle ages, and transferred to Tuscany; the Ital-
ian genius gained by this change a flexibility and
aptitude for ideality which it did not possess in
ancient times, and because of this change, Eu-
rope is indebted to Italy more than to any other
nation for the revival of arts and letters at the
end of the middle ages known as the renaissance.
— The Celtic race, which formerly occupied all
of Gaul and Great Britain, and a great part of the
territories of Belgium and Helvetia, can not now
be found anywhere in a pure state except in Ar-
morica, or French Brittany, in Wales, in Scotland,
particularly in the Highlands, in the Shetland and
Hebrides islands, and finally, in Ireland. The
domain of this valiant, imaginative, sensitive and
adventurous race, once so extensive, is now re-
duced to this mere remnant of territory. The
Celts are the most interesting and unfortunate of
all the barbaric races. Their conquerors, exas-
perated by their stubborn resistance, never spared
them, but always pitilessly tracked them, and ex-
terminated them without mercy. This race owes
its cruel destiny in part to its very qualities: its
extreme sensitiveness often turned into harmful
rage, imprudent, hasty hatred, and capricious Sal-
lies of contempt, while it on the other hand, easily
engendered despair, discouragement and silent
melancholy. This sensibility explains why the
Celts have never been able, despite their valor, to
preserve their independence, and why, after hav-
ing lost it, they have never been able to cause their
masters to bid them welcome, or to make their
subjection the starting point of a new destiny.
Conquered races have been known to govern their
conquerors, like the Greeks, or to use the masters
which fate had given them, like the Italians gen-
erally; but the Celts have never been capable of
such miracles. The Celt does not know how to
control his emotions: when victorious, he aban-
dons himself to the proud intoxication of triumph;
when vanquished, he falls into a mournful despair,
or becomes the prey of a frantic rage which injures
only himself and deprives him of all sympathy.
To this extreme sensibility is added a fine and
charming imagination, which renders him the
slave of fancies and of habit, and thus forms a
new source of danger. He is slow to accord his
esteem or love to political or religious innovations;
but once he has given it, it is given for centuries,
and he will not abandon anything which he
has set his heart on, even when experience has
condemned it. Thus he is always behind the
general progress of civilization, and figures in
history as the champion of lost causes. Of all
the barbaric races, the Celts were the last to Sub-
mit to Christianity, and the difficulty of their
conversion seems surprising when we consider the
prompt submission of the Germanic races to the
new religion. The papacy encountered in them
its first adversaries, and, later, its most devoted
defenders; the French monarchy was kept Con-
stantly at war defending itself against their revolts
490
RACES OF MANKIND.
down to the very outbreak of the revolution of
1789; yet this revolution met with no more irrec-
oncilable enemies than the Wendeans and Bre-
tons; and it is a well-known fact that the obsti-
nate resistance of the Highlanders prolonged the
contest entered into in England between the mon-
archy of the Stuarts and the Protestant dynasty.
—The Celtic race is not the only one which pre-
serves itself pure and unmixed only in certain
provinces or portions of territory; the same is true
of the Iberian race, which is the basis of the pop-
ulation of Spain and probably of Portugal, and
which has continued in its purity only within the
narrow confines of the Basque provinces.
the Iberians an Indo-Germanic or an Ougrian
or Finnish race? Opinions are divided, and the
question is a doubtful one. Some ethnologists,
basing their opinion on the characters of the
Basque language, say that the Iberians belong to
the Finnish race; others see in them a separate
branch of the Celtic race. However this may be,
frequent interminglings seem to have occurred at
an early period between the Iberians and the
Celts, and the mixed race thus produced, the
Celtiberians, constitutes, to a great extent the basis
of the population of Ireland. In truth, the genius
of the Iberian race is very different from that of
the Celts; the two races have little more than one
trait in common, a fierce valor ; but this valor
manifested itself among the Iberians from the
earliest ages with a gloomy energy and a firmness
of resistance entirely unknown to the adventur-
ous and brilliant courage of the Celtic race. —
The mixture of the Latin race with the Celtic and
Iberian races produced the nations of central
Europe, which are without distinction called Lat-
in nations, notwithstanding the well-defined dif-
ferences of their inhabitants. France, Spain,
Portugal and Italy constitute this class. The
basis of the population of Spain has remained
Iberian, and that of the population of France,
Gallic ; the admixture of Roman or Germanic
blood has not so changed the characteristics of the
two nations as to render them unrecognizable, and
it is easy to observe in the soldiers of modern
France the descendants of those Galatians who
raised their swords aloft when it thundered to
hold up the heavens if they should fall, as it is
also easy to recognize the descendants of the de-
fenders of Numantia in the defenders of Sara-
gossa. The action of the Latin race upon the
two nations has been more moral than physical;
it has rendered them capable of discipline, initi-
ated them into a higher civilization, and neutral-
ized and even destroyed the fatality of blood and
the obstacles of instinct. Thanks to this initiation,
the Celtic genius especially, crushed or impotent
everywhere else, developed in France, and gave
to the world all that it contained. At once ad-
venturous and fond of routine, utopist and retro-
grade, violently revolutionary, and conservative to
the extreme, the enemy of tradition and the slave
of habit, idealistic and skeptical, quick to under-
take and easily discouraged, the French clearly
Are
manifest all the principal characteristics of the
Celtic race. But what a marvelous transforma-
tion these characteristics have undergone ! The
lively sensibility of the Celt has been changed into
a spirit of humanity and justice; his love of habit
has become a sentiment of patriotism; his lively,
pure, moral, elevated imagination, the most moral,
most elevated and most truly religious of all the
barbaric races, has translated itself into a literature
of a noble, moral, abstract, refined and idealistic
character, disdaining the pleasures of the flesh and
of the blood, and loving the pleasures of the mind,
to such a point as to forget their reality. Thus,
the least carnal of the barbaric races has produced,
under the influence of Latin discipline, the most.
idealistic nation in the world. France is the
champion par eacellence of absolute causes and of
moral interests. She has successively given to the
world the ideal of all the institutions and the moral
theory of all the governments which have appeared,
one after another, during the past fifteen hundred
years. She has been the champion par eacellence of
the papacy, that moralideal of the Catholic church;
she drew from the feudal system the ideal of
chivalry, she conceived the ideal of monarchy,
she produced in Calvinism the most absolute and
most metaphysical form of reformed Christianity;
finally, she conceived, by the French revolution,
the ideal of the government of human societies
based upon absolute right and abstract reason, and
not upon the fatality of circumstances and the
contingency of human events. After Greece and
Rome, no country has done more for humanity
than France. — The Germanic race is the most
powerful, materially, of all the races. It not only
occupies all the vast territory known in Europe
as Germany, but it embraces also, under the name
of the Scandinavian race, Denmark and Sweden,
and under the name of the Anglo-Saxon race,
England, and the United States of North Amer-
ica. It has ever been a remarkable peculiarity
of this race, that it has manifested more life
at its extremities than at its centre, and, to use
the language of its metaphysicians, realized itself
outside itself. This peculiarity is an essentially
distinctive mark of its political, if not of its in-
tellectual and moral, history. If any one desires
an expression of the political genius of the Ger-
manic race, he should seek it, not in Germany,
but in the nations which have sprung from it, in
the branches which its great trunk has put forth,
England and the United States, for instance. The
idea of individual liberty, of self-government and
the sentiment of self-reliance, which are the most
valuable contributions the Germanic race has
made to the world, have found their full and
entire realization in England and the United
States. The material conquest of the globe belongs
more to this race than to any other: in the barbaric
ages they were the most intrepid conquerors, the
best founders of kingdoms, and displayed faculties
which distinguished them as rulers and governors;
in modern times they make the most active mer-
chants, the most adventurous colonizers, the most
RACES OF MANKIND.
491
energetic explorers and pioneers. Moral civili-
zation owes more to other races; material civiliza-
tion owes as much to none; for no other has done
So much in the way of discovery, in the conquest
and transformation of our globe. Its profound
genius seems to be in contradiction with this polit-
ical destiny; but upon close consideration, the
contradiction disappears. This genius seems to be
unreal and mystic; at bottom, it studies only man
and nature, and, profoundly practical even in met-
aphysical revery and speculation, it seeks only to
penetrate into hidden realities, to separate real
from apparent truth, and to comprehend the inner
structure of objects. The end of Germanic specu-
lation is to penetrate the soil of thought to its very
tufa in order to explain the brilliant vegetation
that appears at its surface. Thus it is that Ger-
many, of all nations, has best explained man to
man, has best demonstrated how he thinks, what
instinctive methods he employs, what are the un-
conscious processes of his logic, by what concate-
nation his visions become facts, his ideas civiliza-
tions, his phantoms doctrines; how the conditions
of his existence force him to imagine the truth,
and, as a consequence, to express himself by sym.
bols. The practice of Self-government, the con-
quest of the material world and the revelation of
the internal structure of the moral man : such is
the magnificent part of the Germanic race in gen-
eral civilization. — The Slavic race is the most
widely diffused race of modern Europe. It com-
prises nearly all the peoples subject to the domin-
ion of Austria, with the exception of the Magyars,
who belong to the Ougrian race, and of a few
Wallachians scattered here and there, especially
in Transylvania, who belong to the Danubian
principalities, and are the descendants of Latin col-
onies of the empire established in Dacia; the Dal-
matians, the Illyrians, the Serbians, the Croatians,
the Czechs, etc.; the peoples of the Turkish empire,
known as Greco-Slaves, of Poland and Russia.
Although the youngest of the European races, it
has not escaped intermixture any more than the
others; in Russia there has been an influx of
Mongolian and Finnish blood; in Poland, of Sar-
matian blood; and in other parts, of Turkish, Greek
and Germanic blood. Some peoples, the Cossacks
for example, are a mixture of several races. The
Slavic race has penetrated very far, and in the
middle ages was the warlike and invading race
par eacellence. It required all the strength of Ger-
many to check its inroads; and the history of the
German empire for several centuries is merely
a history of the resistance of the west to this per-
manent inundation of the Slaves, who, at the
same time that they threatened the young civili-
zation of Latin Europe, overran and destroyed
the old civilization of eastern Europe. Prussia,
for example, is the product of an inundation of
Slaves restrained by Germanic barriers, and the
German empire became powerful only after the
two great Slavic monarchies of the middle ages,
Bohemia and Poland, were conquered or en-
feebled. The Slaves are the last comers into
as they have the same bodies.
history, which they ardently aspire to take full
possession of, in Order to inscribe their name on its.
pages with the names of their elder brothers in civil-
ization. Each of the nations of modern Europe.
has aspired to political preponderance, and has.
obtained it for a greater or less length of time.
This is now the ambition of the Slaves, who have
begun, in Russia, the realization of their mighty
dream. The Slavic genius is remarkably mild,
Social, subtle, imaginative, mystical, and entirely
distinct from the genius of the other European
races. It is impossible to tell for what benefits.
civilization will be indebted to this latent genius
in posse, but we may, however, foresee, that, if the
idea of fraternity is to be transformed into insti-
tutions and introduced into the political life of
nations as those of equality and liberty have been
already introduced, humanity will owe this result
to the Slavic race, which understands this senti-
ment more profoundly than any of the other races,
just as the Celtic and Latin races best understand
equality, and the Saxon race liberty. — We have
now reached the end of this long description of the
various races of the human family. What con-
clusions shall we draw from what we have stated?
Shall we admit that these families, irremediably
Separated by their genius, are condemned by the
fatality of their instincts to continue to the end
of time in a state of aggression, or that they are
destined to be melted into a closer and a closer
union? History, which we have just consulted,
teaches us that the mixture of the races is a law
of humanity, that they do not preserve their pu-
rity but in the barbarous state and for a very short
time, and that, on the other hand, the moral bar-
riers of their different genius are not more diffi-
cult to break through than the physical barriers.
of blood. The races understand one another,
when crossed one with another, and thus discover
that the differences which constitute race are but
secondary, and that men have the same souls just
What difference
does it make that the Shemite was the only one
that conceived the idea of one God? If all the
rest were capable of understanding that great
idea, we must conclude that their instincts very
closely resemble those of the Shemite. Buddhism
clearly bears the impress of the Hindoo mind,
and the Mongolian genius is certainly earthly and
hard; but we must admit that this genius pos-
sessed at least some predisposition that destined it
to understand the religion of Buddha; in what,
therefore, is the Mongolian race irremediably sep-
arated from the race which conceived the religion
which it adopted? Christianity is of Hebrew ori-
gin, and still the nations of Indo-Germanic origin
have found it conformable to their nature, since
they have embraced it. Chivalry is undoubtedly
conformable to the instincts of all nations, since
all nations recognized it in the middle ages. Self-
government is of Germanic origin; still, we see
that to-day all nations have an equal inclination
to adopt, practice and love it. There are differ-
ences, however, but if we examine them closely,
492
RADICALISM.
we will find that they exist more especially in the
secondary faculties or inferior part of the genius
of nations; after all, men are separated only by
the evil instincts and vices of their natures. They
are all united and understand one another by the
Superior part of their souls. Thus, this great
question of race is reduced to a question of mor-
als; the differences in the genius of different na-
tions are reduced to mere shades; and history pro-
claims the moral unity of the human race with
still greater certainty than science proclaims its
unity of flesh and blood. -
fMILE MonTÉGUT.
RADICALISM. One may be radical, that is to
say, absolute, in all opinions, in the monarchical
as well as in the republican party; but, as a gen-
eral thing, the words radicalism and radicals are
applied to democratic doctrines more or less ad-
vanced, and to their adherents. It has long
been said that extremes meet: consequently, they
are equally false; the truth lies in the middle.
Hence those who claim the designation of radicals
are to be boldly condemned. They wish to go to
the very end, being aware or ignorant (either Sup-
position is equally unfavorable to them) that the
end is an abyss. We are less severe toward those
who are called radicals by their opponents. In
that case the question is often only one of degree,
of relation ; according to the point of view at
which one is placed, it will be as correct to con-
sider the latter very backward, as the former very
advanced. We should never stop at party names,
but seek to penetrate to the foundation of things.
— Radicalism is characterized less by its princi-
ples than by the manner of their application. Its
political doctrine is that of democracy, and as a
general thing liberal men will approve of it.
Who would raise the slightest objection against
liberty, equality, fraternity, against national Sover-
eignty, the responsibility of power, universal Suffrage
even? But what are we to understand by liberty?
Should it be the universal leveling of all social
enjoyments to the level of the lowest classes 2
Should fraternity encourage idleness and vice 2
Should national sovereignty or the responsibility
of power constitute a permanent insurrection, and
take away the right of decision from peaceable
majorities to confer it on ambitious, turbulent,
audacious minorities 2 Does universal suffrage
admit of absolutely no limit 2 Thus political
formulas lend themselves to more than one inter-
pretation, and radicalism has its own; but it is,
above all, the manner of its application which
characterizes it. It knows only one method of
procedure, which is to make a tabula rasa, to clear
away the ground in order to raise on it a new
structure complete in all its parts. Is it not as
unreasonable to wish to break the chain of the
ages, as to condemn all the accused in a lump, to
declare all diseases incurable, to claim to know,
to foresee everything, and even, which has actu-
ally happened, to wish to clange the nature of
things? — Nature never makes a tabula rasa. She
does not proceed by fits and starts, but by slow
and continuous development, and society itself is a
product of nature. Can any one deny it 2 Will
any one question that Society is composed of men
endowed with reason, and often swayed by pas-
sion? Does any one think that this reason can
be curbed, these passions silenced, by a decree,
however solemn the deliberation and promulgation
of it may have been? Nothing lasting is estab-
lished by sudden or extreme measures. First,
because such measures clash with received opin-
ions, established interests, opinions and interests
which have often their raison d’etre, and which
have a right to demand consideration. But the
principal obstacle to the success of radical meas-
ures lies mainly in the complex nature of man.
He has necessities, aspirations, multiple duties,
often contradictory; you can not fully satisfy some
without, to a greater or less extent, injuring others.
— Radicalism is generally wedded to a few prin-
ciples, sometimes to a single one, to which it re-
fers everything, and which it would wish to adapt
to everything. Now, the infinite variety of social
facts are neither caused nor explained solely by
the principles inscribed upon the banner of a rad-
ical party; these facts overflow in every direction,
and force alone can compel them to return within
their bounds. But radicalism does not draw back
before violence. It is as absolute in its doctrines
as the despot the most thoroughly imbued with
the rights conferred on him by his hereditary
power. — It is by this absolutism, which is always
found united to narrowness of views, that rad-
icalism is distinguished from liberalism (which
see), with which it has, however, some principles
in common. Absolutism prevents all progress,
and narrowness of view renders a lasting founda-
tion impossible, for it does not permit all the im-
portant circumstances to be taken into account,
and produces a certain social blindness, which
makes those afflicted by it incapable of Serving as
guides. Thus, even should the radicals have prin-
ciples identical with those of the liberals, they
would differ from them by their tendency to ab-
straction, to idealization : they would see the
mathematical line, surface or body, where, with
the liberals, the real line, surface or body should
be seen, with all the qualities and defects given
them by nature. — It is perhaps for all these
reasons that Rohmer (see PARTIES, POLITICAL)
attributes to radicalism the character of the boy;
it has the same capacity as well as the same de-
fects. It is enthusiastic, imaginative, to a certain
extent generous, lives in an ideal world, pursuing
a single idea, and pursuing it frantically, without
regard to the evils caused by the efforts to realize
it. Happily, the idea pursued is often a good
one, the realization of which, even if Somewhat
dearly bought, compensates more or less for the
ills which it has caused. Only one thing remains
to be desired, namely, that the end be not attained
with such violence as to go beyond it and give
rise to a reaction which shall call everything into
Question again. MAURICE BLOCK,
RAILWAYS.
493
RAILWAYS, History and Political Econ-
omy of. Of all the factors that have contributed,
during this century, to the growth of wealth, to
the increase of material comfort, and to the dif-
fusion of information and knowledge, the rail-
way plays the most prominent part. It has wid-
ened the field for the division of employments; it
has cheapened production ; it has promoted ex-
Change, and has facilitated intercommunication.
In its aggregate it represents a larger investment
of capital than any other branch of human activ-
ity; and the service that it renders and has ren-
dered to Society is, both from industrial and com-
mercial points of view, greater than is rendered
by any other single service to which men devote
their activities. – Down to a very recent period
in his history, man was remitted to water routes
mainly for the transportation of goods. Migra-
tion of hunters and shepherds could and did take
place over land from zone to zone even without
roads; but the transportation of heavy goods,
such as form the bulk of the consumption of man-
kind, after the agricultural period had fairly set
in, was necessarily committed to the water ways.
The lands bordering rivers and shores were there-
fore the first to be populated by agricultural tribes,
which, by establishing communication with other
tribes by means of the waterways, started an ex-
change of products. Primitive commerce thus
took its origin along the lines of rivers and the la-
goons of coasts, occupied by tribes which were
the forerunners of civilization in its developed
form. — History gives us accounts of Assyrian
and Persian roads that were at best not more than
200 miles in length, which were built for military
purposes mainly. The Greeks made no contribu-
tion to the world’s great highways; the roads to
Olympia and Delphos' comparing unfavorably
with the roads subsequently built by the Romans.
Rome was the first nation that appreciated the ad-
vantages of highways; and its great conquests of
Gaul, Alemanin and of Britain, were due quite as
much to the genius of the Romans for road build-
ing as to their prowess and skill in arms. The
road made the forest insecure to the barbarian.
From the fight in the ambush the road compelled
the fight in the open, and gave to the higher civ-
ilization an immense advantage over the more
primitive arms and the absence of tactical knowl-
edge of less civilized man. The road, therefore,
was the means of conquest of the Roman civiliza-
tion over barbarism in the pre-Christian era. — In
the shape of the railway, the road has become the
principal lever in man’s conquest over want, dis-
tress from the accidents of birth in locality, and
the disadvantages arising therefrom. It has dif-
fused civilization, and has distributed the com-
modities of any one part of the civilized world
over every other part, so that wants and satisfac-
tions become substantially equalized throughout
the industrial world... Famine and great general
distress become impossible; by means of the rail-
way a large degree of well-being has, with but
slight modifications, mainly due to man’s mistaken
legislation, been diffused all over the world. —
The story of the mechanical means by which, in
times within the memory of men of middle age,
this great revolution was wrought, has been so
often told, that it seems almost superfluous to re-
peat it here; and yet the requirements of the title
of this article make it necessary that it should be
briefly recounted once more. — To England the
world owes the railway. In the coal districts of
the north of England, rails of wood were laid
during the last century for the purpose of re-
ducing the friction caused by pulling the coal
cart from the workings to the mouth of the pit.
About 1767 cast-iron rails were introduced. Stone
props, instead of timber, were used by Outram
for supporting the ends of the rails; hence the
term, still used in England, of tram roads. Be-
tween 1784 and 1820, Murdock, Trevethick and
Gray made experiments in steam engines. The
modern railway, however, both by common con-
sent and as the verdict of engineering specialists,
owes its origin, as a success in transportation, to
George Stephenson, who built engine No. 1 for
the Stockton & Darlington railway, which was
originally organized as a horse railroad, but which
was authorized in 1823 to use steam as a motive
force. Stephenson himself acted as the engineer
on the opening of the steam railroad line in the
autumn of the year 1825. Following this, came
the opening of the Manchester & Liverpool rail-
way in 1830, the first engine of which was also
built by Stephenson, and which from the outset
not only proved the success of the railway in the
transporting of persons and goods, but also showed
it to be a financial success to its promoters and
stockholders in their investment of capital. With-
in the first year after the opening of the Manches-
ter & Liverpool line, upward of 500,000 passengers
were carried. — That the railway was not intro-
duced without much opposition would almost go
without saying. The large interest in the stage
coaches had either to be conciliated, bought off,
or fought. The canal proprietors, who had just
gotten well under way with their canal projects,
and were making considerable sums of money
out of them, when this formidable rival appeared
upon the field, were opposed to the competition
of the railway. In the third place, the rich land-
ed proprietor regarded the railway as a devour-
ing monster, which would not only destroy the
value of his fields, but which threatened to de-
stroy his game preserves and his beautiful lawns
and flower beds, and, with but few exceptions,
the rich landed proprietor opposed the railway.
But stronger than all these special interests in
opposition to the railway, was the conservative
spirit of the English people, which found expres-
sion in the “British Quarterly Review,” in the
words, “We should as soon expect the people of
Woolwich to suffer themselves to be fired off upon
one of Congreve's ricochet rockets, as to trust
themselves to the mercy of such a machine going
at such a rate.”—London was first connected by
rail with the interior of England in 1833, when the
494
RAILWAYS.
through line to Birmingham was completed.
From that time forth English railways rapidly
developed, so that at the close of 1881 the rail-
way system of the United Kingdom consisted of
18,180 miles in a country of 120,000 square miles
in area; representing a total capitalization of
£746,000,000, and carrying annually 623,000,000
passengers, with yearly receipts of £64,000,000.
—The success of the Stockton & Darlington ex-
periment produced in the United States a greater
effect than it did in England. Before the Liver-
pool & Manchester line was built, in 1830, many
lines of rail were already projected in the United
States, and as early as 1825 what is now the New
York Central system was begun to be built under
the charter of the Mohawk & Hudson railroad.
In 1827 Massachusetts authorized the appointment
of a board of commissioners, and caused surveys
to be made of the most practicable routes for a
railroad from Boston to the Hudson river at or
near Albany. Two reports were made by these
commissioners in the winter of 1829, giving a sur-
vey of the road, accompanied with the recom-
mendation to make the commencement of the
railroad on both the routes at the charge of the
commonwealth. In 1830 and 1831 the Boston &
Worcester railroad and the Boston & Providence
railroad companies were chartered, and in 1832
work was already under way to connect Boston
with New York. Pennsylvania started its rail-
way system in 1827, and Maryland and South
Carolina in 1828. The Baltimore & Ohio railroad
system was commenced in 1828. In 1830, almost
simultaneously with the opening of the first rail-
road line in England, railways were being opened
in the United States in every direction. — The
growth of the railway system in the United States
is best indicated by the facts, that in 1828 there
were three miles of railway ; in 1830, forty-one
miles; in 1840, 2,200; in 1850, 7,500 ; in 1860,
29,000 ; in 1870, 49,000; in 1880, 93,671; and at
the close of 1881, 104,813 miles. In 1882 the in-
crease was about 13,000 miles, making a grand
total mileage in the United States at the beginning
of the year 1883, of about 115,000 miles of rail.
— The capital account at the close of 1881 shows
a total of $6,815,000,000. Adding, for 1882,
$40,000 a mile for about 13,000 miles, increases
the total capitalization $520,000,000, making a
grand total of about $7,335,000,000. —The gross
earnings of the railways of the United States in
1881 amounted to $725,000,000, $552,000,000 of
which was from freight earnings, and $173,000,000
from passengers; resulting in the payment of
a dividend, over and above fixed charges, of
$93,344,200 interest on the bonds absorbed, of
net earnings of $276,654,119, the sum total of
$128,587,302, in addition to what went into other
sources. In 1881 the tonnage transported was
not less than 315,000,000. — France was much
slower than England and America in adopting
the railway system. Independent of the fact that
the Latin race is not so alert in adopting labor-
saving contrivanges as the Anglo-Saxon, there was
a cause for the slower adoption of the railway in
that country, as it was better supplied with high-
ways than England, and transportation charges
in the early half of this century were compara-
tively much cheaper in France than in England.
With the exception of some few small lines, there
was no development of the railway system in
France until about 1842, when nine great lines
were established, which subsequently were amal-
gamated into six. These at the present day divide
and occupy between them substantially the whole
French territory. Besides these, however, there
are a few state lines and branch roads of insignifi-
cant importance. The names of these six great
lines are Chemºn de fer du Nord, De l'Ouest de l’ést
d’Orleans, Paris-Lyons, Mediterranée and du-Möd.
The extension of the railway system in France
has not been so great as it has been in England or
the United States, owing to circumstances which
will be referred to in the latter part of this article.
— The railway system of Belgium is 2,000 miles
in extent, in a country embracing an area of 11,373
square miles. Two-thirds of the whole of the
railway mileage in Belgium is composed of lines
worked by the state, and one-third by private
companies. – In the Netherlands, with an area of
13,000 square miles, there are 1,230 miles of road,
of which the state owns 630 miles, and private
companies 600. — Germany, Austria and Russia
were somewhat behind the western nations of Eu-
rope in their railway development, but within the
last decade an enormous extension in their devel-
opment has taken place, for the purpose of com-
peting with France for the eastern trade, as well
as for the purpose of military operations of an of-
fensive and defensive character. In the Franco-
Prussian war the seizure and management of the
railroads by the state, for the purpose of aiding
strategical movements, formed so important an ele-
ment in the military operations of Prussia against
France, that throughout central Europe a large
number of lines have since been built, to secure
strategical advantages. – The following table,
taken from “Spofford’s American Almanac ’’ for
1883, gives the statistics of the railways of the
world to Jan. 1, 1881 :
1. North America. Miles.
United States (1883).-------------------------------- 117,717
Canada.-------------------------------------------- 7,894
Mexico--------------------------------------------- 2,219
Total North America--------------------------- 127,830
2. Middle America.
Costa Rica.----------------------------------------- 105
Cuba (Spanish)------------------------------------- 858
Honduras ------------------------------------------ 56
Jamaica (British)----------------------------------- 25
Nicaragua------------------------------------------ 34
Trinidad ------------------------------------------- 16
Total Middle America-------------------------- 1,094
3. South America.
Argentine Republic-------------------------------- 1,619
Bolivia--------------------------------------------- 31
Brazil---------------------------- ------------------ 1,899
Chili----------------------------------------------- 1,193
Colombia (U. S. of) -------------------------------- 99
Ecuador ------------------------------------------- 75
RAILWAYS.
495
South America — Continued. Miles
‘Guiana (British)------------------------------------ 21
Paraguay ------------------------------------------ 44
Peru ----------------------------------------------- 2,030
Uruguay .------------------------------------------ 235
Venezuela ----------------------------------------- 70
Total South America--------------------------- 7,316
4. Europe.
Austria-Hungary ---------------------------------- 11,738
Belgium ------------------------------------------- 2,597
Denmark ----------------------------------------- 978
France--------------------------------------------- 17,027
Germany------------------------------------------- 31.505
Great Britain and Ireland -------------------------- 18,168
Greece --------------------------------------------- 7
Italy ----------------------------------------------- 5,410
INetherlands---------------------------------------- 1,227
Norway-------------------------------------------- 946
Portugal ------------------------------------------- 1,039.
Roumania------------------------------------------ 916
Russia --------------------------------------------- 14,067
Spain ---------------------------------------------- 3,849
Sweden -------------------------------------------- 3,836
Switzerland---------------------------------------- 1,636
Turkey -------------------------------------------- 889
Total Europe----------------------------------- 105,895
5. Asia.
Ceylon (British)------------------------------------ 136
China---------------------------------------------- ------
India (British)-------------------------------------- 9,872
Japan------------------------------------------ sas as sº . e. 96
Java (Dutch)--------------------------------------- 3,498
Philippines (Spanish) ------------------------------ 279
“Turkey in Asia------------------------------------- 250
Total Asia ------------------------------------- 14,131
6. Africa.
Algeria (French) ----------------------------------- 804
Cape Colony (British)------------------------------ 905
Egypt---------------------------------------------- 942
Mauritius ------------------------------------------ 66
Namaqualand-------------------------------------- 95
Natal (British)------------------------------------- 101
"Tunis ---------------------------------------------- 155
Total Africa------------------------------------ 3,068
7. Australia.
New South Wales---------------------------------- 1,183
New Zealand -------------------------------------- 1,258
Queensland ---------------------------------------- 801
South Australia.----------------------------------- 832
Tasmania------------------------------------------ 178
Victoria ------------------------------------------ 1,247
Western Australia---------------------------------- 93
Total Australia--------------------------------- 5,592
Grand total ----------------------------------- - 264,826
— In England, by reason of the high price of land
which the railways must occupy and acquire, and
a rigid application of the rule requiring the rail-
way corporation to pay for consequential and in-
direct damages, its railways represent the maxi-
mum of capitalization. Taking this extreme of
capitalization of the English railways, of $200,000
a mile, as a maximum, and the capitalization of
the cheapest American railways, of $25,000 a mile,
including equipment, as a minimum capitalization,
it is fair to say that the average capitalization of
railways the world over is not less than $50,000 per
mile. Upon that basis the 264,000 miles of rail-
way in the world would represent a total valuation,
in the way of capital invested in these vehicles and
means of intercommunication, of $13,200,000,000.
— Compared with all the debts of all the nations
of the earth, amounting, in round numbers, to
$27,000,000,000, it appears that, within the period
of the last fifty years, the industrial world has in-
vested a capital in means of intercommunication
alone, of about one-half the sum that has been
raised by way of loans for the purpose of carrying
on, during the last few hundred years, all the wars,
and constructing all the internal improvements, of
all the nations of the earth. — So great a manifes-
tation of a social power, representing, as it does, a
growth unprecedentedly rapid, must and does ex-
hibit many peculiar phases of social and politico-
economical problems, and must bring with it evils
incident to its own existence which demand Some
form of intelligent treatment and cure. It would,
indeed, be remarkable and without parallel, that
any human instrumentality, however beneficial,
could grow to such enormous proportions without
having some shadow side in the way of defects,
evils and even crimes attendant and concomitant
to the immense good it brings forth. The first
effect of the development of the railway system
on the intercommunication of men, has been to
give a great impetus to the transmission of intel-
ligence and personal intercourse. One need but
read the letters of Madame de Sevigny to see what
an arduous task it was to travel during the middle
of the seventeenth century. When she proposed to
set out to visit her daughter, 200 miles distant, she
prepared her will, and set about the journey with
a solemnity of mind somewhat akin to that ſell by
a person at the present time who is about to inves-
tigate the sources of the Nile, or make a voyage
to the north pole. But one need not go back SO
far for examples of the dangers, both anticipated
and real, that down to within this century beset
the traveler. The Newgate calendar is part of the
history of the stage-coach, almost to the very time
when railways were introduced. Highwaymen
scoured the country round, within a radius of ten
miles from London. Hounslow Heath, Black
Heath, Epping Forest, Clapham Commons, all
embraced post routes, and were the scenes of the
exploits of many a man who, within this century,
came to his end at Tyburn and at Newgate. The
time occupied in moving from great centres to the
capital is indicated by an advertisement of the
York and London stage coach in 1706, in which
the advertisers promise to be in London on the
fifth day out from York, and to run from London
to York in four days. It is said by Francis, in
his “History of the Railways,” that the abdication
of James II. was not heard of in the Orkneys until
three months after his flight. He says: “In the
seventeenth century the charge for conveyance
amounted, in many instances, to a prohibition
Heavy goods cost, from London to Birmingham,
£7 a ton; from London to Exeter, £12 were paid.
Coal was rarely seen, save in the neighborhood of
the district which produced it. Pack horses, strong,
enduring animals, the breed of which is now ex-
tinct, were employed to carry the produce of the
weaver's patient skill, the pottery of Stafford-
shire, and even the coals of Newcastle, laboring
496
RAILWAYS.
along heavy roads, toiling beneath a burning Sun,
wending their way through bare, bleak moors,
down steep descents, by dangerous rivers, on mar-
row tongues of land, between masses of mire and
mud so deep as to be dangerous if they entered
—a leading horse bearing bells to intimate the
approach of the party he heralded. The group
formed a most picturesque accompaniment to the
wild, weird scenes it enlivened. * * The private
carriage, if such, indeed, should chance to ap-
proach, left the track at the risk of never return-
ing to it, while more numerous parties either re-
sisted the cavalcade, or moved, like the solitary
passenger, out of the way, as their weakness or
strength might dictate. With such difficulties be-
fore them, few persons left their homes but those
who were called by some most special reason.” —
Macaulay says that the inhabitants of London, in
the seventeenth century, were farther removed
from Edinburgh than they are now from Vienna;
and, indeed, it might be said, farther removed from
Edinburgh than they are now from St. Peters-
burgh or New York. The reason why, to this
very day, parliament sits in Summer, is because
the roads in England were so bad, and the diffi-
culty and danger of getting to the capital So great,
that it was impossible in the midwinter months
to convene a parliament with any expectation of
having the members attend from the north, from
the extreme west of the kingdom, from Scotland,
or from Ireland. — In the early part of the nine-
teenth century the difficulty of moving bulky
articles was somewhat overcome by MacAdam's
invention for improving highways, and by the in-
troduction of canals. Part of the politico-econom-
ical results in the way of cheapening and dis-
tributing products was already under way by the
creation of artificial waterways, which were intro-
duced into England, France and Spain in imita-
tion of the Netherlands. – In fixing the price for
the sale of every commodity, the element of cost
of transportation must be considered, with but
the very slight exception of articles that are con-
sumed on the spot where created, like the food
raised by the farmer for his own family. As the
great bulk of commodities consumed in this world
is transported from one point to another, it is
obvious at a glance how important is the rôle that
transportation plays in the work of production as
well as of consumption. Indeed, transportation
is a factor which enters into both the consumption
and production of commodities as largely as money
does into the exchange of commodities, and it plays
even a more important rôle than money does in
determining the price of commodities. – The cer-
tainty, diminished cost and rapidity with which
commodities could be transported from place to
place by the introduction of the railway, not only
increased the exchangeability of commodities,
but also made it possible to forward to distant
places, theretofore unsupplied with such com-
modities, products which formerly were consumed
Only at the spot where created, and the increased
facility of transportation created values which
could not have existed at all but for such improved
methods of transportation. A familiar illustration
of this fact is the great industry which had been
created in Brittany and Normandy in producing
eggs and butter for the London market; and vege-
tables even for Edinburgh's daily consumption.
Before the existence of the railway, the rich
dairies of Normandy could give to Normandy
alone the enjoyment of fine butter, and there was
no possibility for the Londoner or the Scotchman
to enjoy a French egg or a pat of French butter at
his breakfast table without going personally to
France. For 600 or 1,000 miles the railway now
carries the Frenchman’s dairy and farm-yard prod-
ucts as easily as to the neighboring town. The
prices of those commodities have gone up in
France, because a market has been found for
them. But, what is of greater importance, their
enjoyment is possible to a greater number of peo-
ple. Waste, that great destroyer of human efforts,
is eliminated, and unsatisfied wants in the par-
ticulars above mentioned, can no longer exist.
Through the instrumentality of the railway, the
law of competition gets its widest possible exten-
sion, restrained and hampered only by limitations
put by human law, in the way of tariffs, on the
full enjoyment of the results of such competition.
With the extension of the lines of commerce,
within which a given commodity can find its mar-
ket, comes an increased demand, which not only
again reacts to produce an increased supply, but
equalizes prices, so that the element of chance is
eliminated as much as possible from human affairs.
French history gives us the fact, that during a
period of 300 years, there were about 100 years of
famine in one or another part of France, while
absolute abundance contemporaneously prevailed
in other districts. Such a condition of things,
even long before the railway, has not only be-
come impossible for France by the development
of means of intercommunication, but is now made
impossible the world over by reason of the rail-
way, connected with rapid steam communication
by sea. That periods of famine and distress arise
in India, in an abnormally situated community
living upon one vegetable product alone, and pre-
vented by superstition from varying their food,
does not diminish the force of the fact that such
things are impossible in any community which
has emerged from a semi-barbaric condition,
Also, in India, the periods of distress are rapidly
diminishing, and are becoming considerably less
in intensity when they occur. An exaggerated
picture of the evils incident to the present civili-
zation is given by the colors in which the sensa-
tional modern press paints the distress and Crimes
of the day; and the inquisitorial and searching
character of the correspondence produces a vivid-
ness which makes the superficial observer imagine
that both crime and suffering have increased,
whereas, in point of fact, they are constantly de-
creasing. What has increased, is the power and
opportunity for observation and giving detailed
results of such observation to the public eye and
RAILWAYS.
497
ear. — That the several results of the introduc-
tion of the railway have become a common her-
itage of the great mass of mankind, and that its
introduction benefits the laborer more than it
does the millionaire, is indicated by the fact that
the cost of transportation, which bears a greater
and greater relation to commodities which are
bulky and coarse and of general consumption, and
forms a less and less ratio or element of expense in
commodities which are easy of transportation, and
not bulky in form, has been considerably lessened
by the railway. Even during the middle ages the
laces of Mechlin and of Brussels, and the tapes-
tries of the Netherlands and of France, could be
transported the world over. At the courts of
Europe specimens of the art handicraft of the
then known world could be found. Gems, laces
and velvet could be transported on horseback
without difficulty ; but no food or clothes pro-
duced for common use or wear could be brought
from a distance, the cost of transportation, added
to the original cost of the article, increasing the
price to such an extent as to make it beyond the
means of the common man. Hence the individ-
ual born to a particular spot of earth, thus became
the inheritor of all the evils and all the disad-
vantages incident to that spot. What the average
man could not there produce, was not for him to
enjoy. What his neighbor could not produce for
him, he could not obtain in exchange for his own
products. The cost of transportation served as an
impassable barrier to placing himself in more
comfortable condition, either by removal to lands
more favorably situated as a market for his labor,
or by bringing within his reach such more fa-
vorable condition in the shape of the importa-
tion of commodities. – But even in India, the
famine of 1873–4 was counteracted, the distress
overcome, and the consequences removed, with a
rapidity never before known in Indian history.
Theretofore, the distress occasioned by a famine
ordinarily lasted upward of ten years. In the
following year (1875), when the actual season
of dearth ended in India, and some favor-
able results in the way of weather and crops
were produced, the consequences of the famine
were quite removed. Neumann is authority for
the statement that in consequence of the develop-
ment of the railway system, upward of 21,000,000
hundred weight of rice was distributed within
eleven months by the English government during
the prevalence of the famine. Even in the decade
1860–70, before the railway system was developed
in India, several years of dearth and of famine
occurred in the same district, and it is estimated
that from two and a half to three and a half mill-
ion people died during that period. The drought
and failure of crops in 1873 and 1874 were greater
than before, and authentic accounts show us that
there were not at the utmost more than 20,000
persons whose death can directly be attributed to
insufficient food. The accessibility of the news-
paper correspondent, by means of the railway,
enabled the world at large more thoroughly to
151 VOL. III. — 32
realize the distress that occurred during 1873 and
1874, but the actual death rate, as compared with
that from 1860 to 1870, from famine, was not 1
per cent. — As the difficulty of transportation is
an element of cost in the exchange of commodi-
ties, a Saving in the cost of transportation, pro-
ducing an increased market, results also in the
additional effect that the capital which otherwise
would be expended upon transportation is avail-
able for other purposes. It is true that the medium
of transportation in itself is a costly contrivance,
and that it has swollen, as we have seen, to
$13,000,000,000 for railway purposes alone ; but
as the great majority of these enterprises pay a
return to those who have invested their moneys,
the capital is productively employed, profitably
expended, and constantly being reproduced by
the return. The railway, therefore, in its general
effects upon mankind and the investors, has been
a blessing. —The general result of railway con-
struction has been an enormous increase of pro-
duction and productive power on the part of man-
kind, and has also resulted in an enormous de-
velopment in the character of productions, par-
ticularly in the direction of producing, for general
and popular consumption, commodities which,
until the railway was introduced, were in many
cases impossible of transportation, except along
the lines of waterway.— One of the most interest-
ing illustrations of the condition of life before the
railway, is given by the philosophical agricultur-
ist, Von Thünen, and quoted by Sax, in which,
assuming as a central point, a city, he places
around it, within a radius of fifty miles, an agri-
cultural district, composed of six zones, for prod-
ucts which the farmer may raise with profit for
the consumption of the city. In the first zone, ly-
ing closest to the city, he places the production
of garden vegetables, fruit and milk ; in the sec-
ond Zone he places the production of commodi-
ties which cost more to transport, such as pota-
toes, carrots, etc. In the third zone the production
of wood is placed. In the next three zones, in
certain proportions entered into too minutely
for citation here, cereal productions and animals
are put.—The vast benefit conferred by freedom
to cultivate land with alternate crops and with
whatever suits the land best, has become possible
only by the increase of means of transportation.
Doubtless the rules laid down by Von Thünen
were practically adopted in consequence of diffi-
culties of transportation, which, once wiped out,
now not only makes the farm fifty miles remote as
profitable and valuable as the one close to the city,
but enables the latter in compensation to produce
whatever the land is best fitted to produce, in-
stead of simply that which proximity to the mar-
ket compels. In other words, the natural advan-
tages of production have, by the wiping out of the
element of transportation, or rather, reducing it to
a minimum, been permitted to come into full play.
The producer was conditioned, by proximity or
remoteness to the market, as to the proper use of
his instrument, the soil. He now produces that
498
RAILWAYS.
which his soil is best capable of producing : all
the markets have become near, by the railway,
No better illustration can be found of this than
in the development of the fresh fruit industry of
the world within recent times. With the excep-
tion of those that ripen on the stem when de-
tached from the tree, as oranges and bananas, but
a very few years ago the consumption of fruit
other than at the place where it was grown was
almost impossible. To-day, however, the fruit of
California can in lusciousness and perfection be
better found on the tables of the inhabitants of
New York and London than in San Francisco.
Thus the trade in products which require to be
consumed fresh has, by the increase of means of
communication introduced by the railway, been
added to the commerce of the world; and a vast
addition to the world’s wealth has been made by
the exchangeability of natural products which
either would not have been produced at all, or
which, being produced in excess of the local de-
mand, would have rotted upon their stems or
upon the ground. — A like addition has been
made to the commerce of the world in the power
of transporting cereals and bulky productions,
such as grain, iron, wood, etc. The time is not
far behind us when the locomotives of Illinois
burned corn for fuel, in consequence of the high
price of fuel, and the low price of corn, and the
high price of the one and the low price of the
other arose from the insufficient means of trans-
portation of both to the localities where they
could best be used. — The diminishing of the cost
and the increasing of the facilities for transporta-
tion introduced by the railway, have likewise sub-
stantially added to the world’s mineral products.
In parts of this country where the railway has
not yet penetrated, it does not pay to open mines
of silver-bearing ore yielding less than sixty dol-
lars to the ton. The moment that a railway is
opened to the point, bringing fuel thither and
taking away either ore or base metal, the mine
that was valueless before, becomes a valuable prop-
erty if it yields forty or even twenty dollars per
ton, and thus its treasury is added to the world’s
wealth. — The rapidity of transportation has an-
other effect. It diminishes the risk of capital, and
increases its fertility, by securing a speedy return
for money invested; and inasmuch as the return
of the capital comes back more speedily, it les-
sens the rates of profits, thereby securing lower
prices to the consumer. The effect which the
production of our Kansas, Nebraska and Dakota
wheat fields has had upon the English farmers, is
a result, only on a wider field, analogous to that
which has been had on the narrower field of Won
Thūnen’s concentric lines. – The influence of the
railway upon manufacturing industries has been
almost as great as it has been upon agriculture.
In ante-railway days the furnace and the Smelting
works were of necessity compelled to be close to
the ore. It may now be situated close to where
the capital, which contributes to establishing the
works, is located. Although such industries suf-
fer somewhat from the higher price of labor inci-
dent to the denser centres of population, yet the
better supervision and more intelligent workman-
ship that is contributed to the manufacturing
process by reason of the capitalist being able to
superintend the operations of his factory, enable
such ‘works to find, by the securing of a larger
application of capital, compensation, and even
profit, notwithstanding their distance from the
mine, owing to the absence of waste due to per-
sonal supervision. We therefore find the great
manufacturing industries, though being at some
distance from the actual output of raw material,
gradually establishing themselves in the large
cities, which are the centres of capital. Denver,
in Colorado, is rapidly becoming the centre of the
smelting operations of the state, for ores bearing
precious metals. St. Louis is an important ore-
reducing point, and successful reductions of pre-
cious ore are carried on in Philadelphia and in
the city of New York, thousands of miles away
from where the raw material is obtained. Equal-
ly true as to textile fabrics is this condition of
things. Whether in the shape of wool coming
from the cape of Good Hope, cotton from India,
South América or from our own cotton states,
hemp from the far west or from Hungary, the raw
products are all used up at the same manufactur-
ing establishment, at Mánchester or at Paisley, at
Cohoes Or at Lowell, and but for the tariff the
cost of distribution of the raw material would
form but a small item compared with the advan-
tages obtained from water power, proximity to
ships and to coal, and, more especially, facilities
for the obtaining and the supervision of the capi-
tal employed. By delocalizing the working up
of the raw material into its finished product, and
giving to capital the advantage of immediate per-
sonal supervision, a tendency has been produced
which has been a puzzle to many economists—the
centralization of industrial employment, and the
driving of the smaller handicraftsmen from suc-
cessful competition by compelling them to become
a part of vast industrial establishments. The
controlling of millions of dollars of capital gives
to such capital great advantage over the individ-
ual more favorably located as to territory, but
less favorably located in the employment of the
more expensive labor-saving machinery, and facil-
ities for carrying on large enterprises at the low-
est possible rates of interest. The result of this
tendency is not an unmixed good. It causes cities
to become overcrowded; it takes away the inde.
pendence of the individual workingman; it makes
the handicraftsman part of a huge machine, and
compels the workman to give his time more and
more to smaller and smaller parts of the whole
operation necessary to produce a given result.
The smith of the middle ages would produce an
armor, and would even ornament it with devices.
He would also shoe horses. To work in iron aſſid
steel in all its departments was his occupation,
and he was probably a larger man in his develop-
ment than the Smith of to-day. But society is
RAIEWAYS.
499
called upon to pay a penalty for the enormous
counter-advantages of the division of employ-
ments in the decreased development of the work-
man. The division of employments of course
increases considerably the output of each working-
man, and as the sum total of Output is thus enor-
mously increased, the sum total of exchangeable
products is enormously increased. A given amount
of labor will at the present period produce to the
Smith of to-day an exchange of products many
times greater than could be obtained in the middle
ages, by the smith of that time, notwithstanding
the superior general skill and workmanship of the
latter. — Frederick List, in urging upon Germany
the necessity for developing the railway system
in 1841, sums up in the following order the ad-
vantages to be derived from the development of
the railway system: “1. As a means of national
defense, it facilitates the concentration, distribu-
tion and direction of the army. 2. It is a means
to the improvement of the culture of the nation,
as it facilitates the distribution and promotes the
rapidity of distribution of all literary products,
and the results of the arts and sciences. It brings
talent, knowledge and skill of every kind readily
to market, and increases the means of education
and instruction of each individual and of each
class and age. 3. It secures the community
against dearth and famine, and against excessive
fluctuation in the prices of the necessaries of
life. 4. It promotes the hygienic condition of
the community, as it destroys distances between
the sufferer and his means of cure. 5. It pro-
motes social intercourse, and brings friend to
friend, and relative to relative. 6. It promotes
the spirit of the nation, as it has a tendency
to destroy the Philistine spirit arising from iso-
lation and provincial prejudice and vanity. It
loinds nations by ligaments, and promotes an in-
terchange of food and of commodities, thus mak-
ing it feel to be a unit. The iron rails become a
nerve system, which, on the one hand, strengthens
public opinion, and, on the other hand, strengthens
the power of the state for police and governmental
purposes.”—One of the first pathological symp-
toms that this great, beneficent growth has pro-
duced, was the speculative spirit that it promoted
and fed. The era of speculation, however, does
not begin with the development of the railway.
Great speculative manias, destructive in their con-
sequences, and of as far reaching and disastrous
results, form part of the history of trade and
commerce of the past two hundred years. The
Mississippi bubble, under law, the tulip mania
in Amsterdam, and the South Sea bubble in Eng-
land, were eras of as wild speculation as the rail-
way mania in England, and were much more dis-
astrous in their consequences.
of Law’s bank declined, and the South Sea bubble
burst, all money values represented in those ele-
ments of speculation were destroyed beyond re-
, pair. Wild as was the speculation of 1844 and
1845 in England, and culminating as it did in a
great financial crisis in the winter of 1845 and
When the shares -
1846, the railway, the subject-matter of the spec-
ulation, still remained; and although shares were
frightfully depressed during the crisis, they ulti-
mately rose to something approaching their true
value, the excessive premiums paid by individuals
being all that was wasted. Every country which
has allowed the railway to be built by private en-
terprise, has had its share of speculative ventures
and speculative prices. Railway building has
certainly fostered a class of unscrupulous opera-
tors as well as tricky and reckless railway officials,
who found larger profits in the share market, and
more rapid means of achieving great fortunes,
than in finding capital for railway construction,
or honestly and efficiently administering the rail-
way properties and trusts in their hands. Absence
of governmental supervision as to stock capital of
railways, has caused the placing on the money
markets of the world of a vast quantity of ficti-
tious values, not representing actual construction
in money value, but possible value to result from
the development of traffic and anticipated divi-
dends. – In many instances the seemingly exces-
sive profits made in the United States by railway
building were but a fair and natural return for the
great risks incurred. In the event of success the
men who had the foresight and boldness to invest
their capital in building lines like the Transconti-
nental Pacific through the territory of hostile
tribes of Indians, across plains and over deserts,
at the risk of life and fortune, deserved consider.
able remuneration for their boldness and their en-
terprise. Differences of opinion may honestly be
entertained whether they have not been overpaid,
and whether the methods adopted through the
instrumentality of political chicanery were in the
least justifiable. These matters apart, however,
it must be conceded, that but for the inducement
held out of very large profits through the instru-
mentality of fictitious capitalization and subsidies
of land or money, many of the newer territories
of the United States would have been unsupplied
by railways. – What is here said is not meant to
be a justification for fictitious capitalization, which
is an evil of such great and wide-bearing conse-
quence that it were better if railway building
were somewhat delayed than to allow it to come
into existence under such conditions. The writer
simply desires to draw attention to the fact, that
the absence of governmental supervision over cap-
italization leaves individuals or corporations free
to devise whatever scheme they may think best to
enhance profits in conducting doubtful enterprises,
and results inevitably in railway management re-
garding no interest except that of the promoters
and capitalists who respectively lay out the scheme
and find the money, and in such a case the public
will be wofully left out of sight. At the very out-
set of railway development, Stephenson, who was,
from all we can learn of his career, as wise a states-
man as he was an engineer, insisted that railways
should be taken in hand and operated by the gov-
ernment, claiming, that, from its nature and char-
acter, it was a highway which would in time become
500
RAILWAYS.
more important than the ordinary road, and which
also possessed the peculiarity that the owner of the
road would, in time, do the business of transpor-
tation thereon. In terse language he expressed,
before a committee of parliament, his opinion
that competition would not be the means of pro-
ducing in this case, as it does in others, the cheap-
est and best results for the community, because,
said he, “where combination is possible, compe-
tition is excluded.”—Railway development took
its origin in England and in this country contem-
poraneously with the growth of the democratic
spirit, and with the dissemination of politico-eco-
nomical ideas. The democratic spirit was jealous
of governmental power, and aimed at its reduction
and decentralization. The politico-economical doc-
trines taught, as an axiomatic truth, that the gov-
ernment performed its operations at greater ex-
pense than the individual, and that whatever
could be left to individual enterprise should be
excluded from the domain of government. Po-
litical economy at the same time asserted as an
axiomatic truth the proposition that competition
was productive of unmixed good; that it was uni-
versally applicable; that governmental regulation
and interference tended to diminish or destroy
competition; and that it would subserve the best
interests of mankind if government would let
things in commercial and industrial enterprise
work out their own salvation. — In England and
America, therefore, railways were placed in the
hands of corporations, which had power, on pay-
ing its value, to condemn property. In England,
maximum rates of charges were in every case pre-
scribed by the charter constituting the corpora-
tion, but these maximum charges were generally
made so high that they practically did not inter-
fere with the railway corporations; within the
limitation of these maximum charges the railways
were free to make such discriminations or modifi-
cations as they deemed necessary to meet particu-
lar exigencies. For every addition to its public
powers and for every extension of its line, the
railway was compelled to go to parliament for
powers. The opposition of the landowner and
canal proprietor once overcome, however, the
great benefits conferred from the very outset by
the establishment of railway communication be-
came so apparent, that parliament was but too
willing to grant additional powers without inquir-
ing very closely as to what use would be made of
them. —Both in England and America the legis-
latures of the period from 1825 to 1835 made the
mistake of supposing that the railway bore an
analogy to the Canal, and traces of this mistake
appear in almost all of the early charters. It was
supposed, that, like the canal, the railway would
be built by one class of capitalists, but that also,
in the same manner as Over the canals, the traffic
over the railway would be carried on by another
class of individuals or corporations, of forwarders
and common carriers, who, under regulations and
charges for toll established by the railroad com-
pany, would do the transportation business over
the line. It was supposed that the railway was
merely an improved highway, the carriages of
which would run within certain grooves from
which they could not depart, and that in all other
respects the railway corporations would be one
function and the business of transportation over it
would be in the hands of others. — The charter of
the Ithaca & Owego railroad contains the follow-
ing language: “Sec. 12. All persons paying the
toll aforesaid may, with suitable and proper car.
riages, use and travel upon the said railroad, sub-
ject to such rules and regulations as the said cor-
porators are authorized to make by the 9th section
of this act.” (Laws of N. Y., 1827, p. 17.) – Cer-
tain members of parliament foresaw, that, as a .
means of protection of the public, the limitation
upon excessive profits imposed in these undertak-
ings by fixing a maximum rate of charges was in-
sufficient. Pre-eminent among those members of
parliament was Mr. James Morrison, who, in a .
speech delivered in the house of commons May
17, 1836, said: “The limitation of the rates of
charge is in a progressive country good for little
or nothing. The increase of population and trade
has been so very great that a toll that would have
yielded an ample profit on a railway constructed
a dozen or twenty years ago, might now perhaps.
yield an equal amount of profit were the rates re-
duced a half. Nothing in fact can be more im-
provident or more absurd than that parliament.
should once for all fix the rate of toll when an
undertaking is entered upon, and divest itself, un-
less by violating the right of property, of the
power to reduce that rate in all time to come, how
greatly soever it may exceed what would be a lib-
eral return for the capital invested in the under-
taking. I need not add that it is of the greatest
importance to the interests of the public, that the
cost of internal communication should be reduced
as low as possible. The limitation of the dividend
is a practice found to be as ineffectual as the fix-
ing a maximum on the rate of charge. The pub-
lic has no check on the system of management,
nor can it explore the thousand channels in which,
profits may be distributed, under other names,
among the subscribers, nor has it any means of
preventing the wanton and extravagant outlay of
money on the works, etc. To make the provision
for limiting the dividends good for anything, it
would be necessary that all the proceedings of a.
company so limited should be controlled by com-
missioners appointed by the government.” He
therefore insisted that in every case a clause should
be inserted in parliamentary concessions to railway
corporations, by which parliament reserves to itself.
the right to revise the rates of toll every decade,
or oftener. Mr. Morrison also deprecated the idea.
that competition would prevent excessive charges,
and even at that early day he foresaw that a vast
amount of capital would be expended unnecessa-
rily in making duplicate lines, whereby the public
would not be benefited by the securing of lower .
rates of charges, but the existing traffic would be
divided in combination by the new lines and the
RAILWAYS.
§01
prior existing lines, even though the roadbed of the
latter was by no means taxed to its maximum ca-
pacity in doing the traffic on the line. He urged
upon parliament the necessity of preventing such a
waste of capital, claiming that by a reckless char-
tering of new lines competition was not secured,
and that the new lines when built would by combi.
nation with existing lines prevent the public from
securing the benefits to be derived from the char-
tering of the new lines.— In a speech delivered in
1845, nine years after the former speech, Mr. Morri-
son, after showing the gradual reduction in the cost
Of and charge for transportation, and the enormous
benefits which the railway system had conferred
upon England, as well as the great social changes
which were taking place in consequence of the ex-
istence of the railway system, continued: “These
various circumstances prove that the question now
is no longer one of private consideration, but one
of great public policy, a matter not to be left to
the control of inferior boards or private companies,
but one which ought to be subject to the interfer-
ence of parliament, and guided by the wisdom of
the government. A great social change is in the
act of taking place, and it is to this great subject
that I invite the attention of the house, of the gov-
ernment, and more particularly of the right hon-
orable baronet (Sir Robert Peel) at the head of the
administration, and I entreat him to look at this
question as one great whole, and not to regard it
in detached, isolated details and fragments. If he
will view it in all its many and important ramifica-
tions, if he will estimate the combined effects of
all sorts that are certain to follow from this ex-
traordinary combination of influences, he will, I
think, agree with me in believing the subject to be
One of the greatest moment, one fraught with un-
speakable benefits if properly directed, but, if neg-
lected or mismanaged, threatening us with evils of
portentous magnitude.” — He then entered upon
the question of tolls. He said: “I may here be
asked the principle upon which I would regård
the rates of toll. My answer is, that I would de-
termine the rate of toll in every case by the sum
at which the particular line of railway could now
be constructed. The public are not bound to in-
quire what the line really has cost, but merely to
ascertain the sum for which it could at the present
time be constructed, and the railway proprietors
Ought to be compelled to carry the public and their
goods for such fare as would yield a fair profit
upon such outlay.” “So little, indeed,” he con-
cludes, “was the subject of railways understood
in its commencement that the original rates were
fixed upon the supposition that the railway pro-
prietor would be the proprietor of the road only,
and that the persons using it would pay merely
for the means of transit, as upon the canals. It is
well known that such has not been the case. Rail-
way proprietors are almost universally not only the
owners of the line, but the carriers upon it. Still,
strange as it will seem, the legislatures have con-
tinued, in every railway bill down to the last bill
of the last session, to repeat these lists of tolls, al-
though in no single instance, I believe, has it been
found practicable to carry them into effect. These
rates of tolls are practically a mere delusion. In
truth, parliament might just as well have ordered
the several companies to exhibit in their stations
a set of old sheet almanacs. They were a mere
useless incumbrance.”—These were the utterances
of a member of parliament of extraordinary intel-
ligence, of a man who had worked his way up
from a clerkship to the position of being the rich-
est merchant in England, where he occupied a po-
sition somewhat akin to that held at a subsequent
day by A. T. Stewart in the United States. To
him England, and indeed the commercial world,
owes the system of charging in retail transac-
tions one uniform and undeviating price, without
cheapening or bargain, a system which has since
his time been adopted as the sound commercial
rule in England, in America, and in the leading
cities of France and of Germany. — In this coun-
try, a few of the early charters, copied somewhat
from the English parliamentary acts, contained
maximum rates of toll in a schedule of rates. In
some of these early charters the state reserved the
right to purchase within twenty years the railway
thereby authorized to be constructed. No general
act then existed indiscriminately granting the right
of way and the right to condemn property to
any persons who saw fit to organize a railway cor-
poration, but in every instance an application had
to be made to the respective legislatures for the
various powers to be exercised by the corporation.
Some little safeguard was therefore left in the
hands of government against too great an abuse
of public power.— In 1846, owing to the spread of
the politico-economical doctrines before referred
to, and to the corruption incident to the railway
lobby in the legislative halls, the new constitution
of the state of New York required its legislature to
pass general laws under which corporations may
be formed (Art. viii., § 1), and, acting in the spirit
of this requirement, the legislature of 1848 did pass
a general railroad act, substantially like the one re-
enacted in 1850, except that the legislature, by the
act of 1848, did, in each particular case, reserve the
power to grant by special act the right of eminent
domain, and give to corporations about to build
and operate railways a means only, under the gen-
eral law, of organization and of powers. In 1850
that safeguard was surrendered by the passage of
a general railway act omitting such reservation.
Thereafter twenty-five persons could, by the mere
filing of articles of incorporation in the office of
the secretary of state, become a railway corpora-
tion, endowed with power to take property in ºn-
witum, and to run lines wherever and in whatever
form they saw fit, subject only to certain restric-
tions as to rights in cities, and to condemn prop-
erty for such purposes. This placed railway cor-
porations upon the footing of any private enter-
prise in the hands of corporate management, and,
except as to passenger traffic, was a complete Sur-
render of every attempt on the part of the gov-
ernment to supervise, regulate or control the rail-
502
RAILWAYS.
way corporations of the state, or to subject them
to any conditions securing, without discrimination
and injustice, fair and proper rates to the public.
This general railway law did away with the rail-
way lobby; and the immediate benefits in the
way of extensions of the railway systems, and
the freedom from public corruption resulting
from this railroad law, caused other states to
follow in the wake of the state of New York,
and state after state passed general railway acts
in imitation or modification of the one enacted
by the state of New York in 1850. This intro-
duced the era of what was supposed to be Com-
petition, with results which we shall presently ex-
amine in detail. — Now let us look at the course
that the railway question took in other countries.
— Belgium. In Belgium all concessions for con-
structing railways are granted by the minister of
the interior, subject to the ratification of the cham-
ber of deputies and of the king. The expectant
corporators deposit a plan, giving the line of the
route, estimates of its revenue, and the probable
expense of the undertaking, together with a tariff
of tolls for passengers and freight traffic, at which
they propose to carry. The project is then sub-
mitted to the department of roads and bridges,
or to a special commission of engineers for report.
All inquiries to verify the calculations and the
statements of the projectors are made at the ex-
pense of those who deposit the plan, and for that
purpose they are required from time to time to pay
in to the ministry such sums as they may be called
upon to contribute. Then for a period of from
one to three months the whole plan is advertised
in the locality to be affected by it. The local
councils of the municipalities through which the
road is proposed to be laid, consider the project,
and report to the ministry. After these reports
have been presented, a hearing is had, either be-
fore the commission on bridges and roads, or
before the minister himself, at which the engi-
neering work, the guarantees for its execution,
the objections to its being undertaken, etc., are
discussed, and the manner in which the govern-
ment is to exercise surveillance over it is fixed.
The rate of charges by the company, the time
for which they may be demanded, and the time
within which the work is to be commenced
and finished, are also specified. After all these
questions have been settled, the whole matter is
then submitted to the chamber and senate and
the king, either of whom can alter it before it
passes as a law. — In Belgium the government it-
self, however, built the principal lines, or bought
them up, and it now in theory allows private
companies only to build extensions and develop-
ments of the main lines. In 1850, of the lines of
railway in Belgium, 64 per cent. of the whole
were owned by the government, and 36 per cent.
by private individuals. After the construction
of its main lines, however, the Belgian govern-
ment retired from the work of constructing new
lines, and in consequence there was, in 1860, 67
per cent. of the mileage in Belgium in the hands
of private individuals, and only 33 per cent. in
the hands of the state. By amalgamation, how-
ever, these small, feeders in the hands of private
individuals in process of time have developed
into trunk lines, competing with the government
lines on their own field. — The Grand Cemtral
Belge, a private company, was formed out of seven
companies, and the Societé Général d’Ea:ploitation,
another private line, was formed out of nineteen
companies. So long as the government owns,
controls and works its main lines of railway, and
keeps down the interest upon the outlay to 7
per cent., no dangerous combination, however, is
to be feared. It may at any time, if any line be-
comes very profitable, buy it up, as, under the
terms of every concession, a railway line in Bel-
gium is subject to purchase by the state for the
benefit of the commonwealth. The purchase
price is the net receipts of the seven last preced-
ing years of the company’s working, from which
the receipts of two most profitable years are de-
ducted, and an annuity, equivalent to the average
dividend of the five remaining years, with the
addition of 15 per cent., is paid for the road. —
One of the peculiarities of the Belgian system is,
that the government guarantees the line it allows
to be built interest at the rate of 4 per cent. On its
actual outlay; it thus has full justification for Su-
pervising the construction of the railway, and
insisting upon the fullest possible reports, pre-
scribing the method of its book-keeping, desig-
nating some of its officers, and generally regard-
ing the railway corporation as wards of the state.
This method of guarantee also prevents the un-
dertaking of lines which do not promise to be
fairly remunerative from the start. The rates of
charge of both the passenger and freight traffic
of all the railways of Belgium are fixed in the
concessions themselves, which are limited to
ninety years. The rates are, of course, maximum
rates, the companies being at liberty to reduce their
rates to any point below the figures set forth in
the law. But when the state has guaranteed the
4 per cent. Of the capital, the consent of the min-
ister of public works is, however, necessary, be-
fore the tariff is permitted to be lowered. A very
active competition was carried on in past years.
between the railways owned by the state, and
the railways owned by individuals, wherever the
lines touched the same points. This competition
has resulted in the corporate railways being per-
mitted to make special contracts in the same man-
ner as the state railways did down to about 1864,
when a law was passed forbidding the making
of special contracts; and compelling both the state
railways and the individual railways to carry
all their freight at schedule rates. – By this sys-
tem of state guarantee of investment, the state
is prevented from carrying its competition with
the private lines beyond a certain point. The
fact that the private companies must be permitted
to earn a net revenue of 4 per cent. upon the capi-
tal invested therein, or the state must make good
the deficiency, serves as a check upon the compe-
RAILWAYS.
503
tition of the state. — This system resulted in giv-
ing to Belgium the best, and in every way the most
efficient, network of railway service on the face of
the globe. It had low rates of passenger traffic,
and low and certain rates of freight traffic. The
private companies were earning good dividends
upon their capital. The state, on the one hand,
prevented the private companies from becoming a
dangerous monopoly; and, on the other hand, the
constant competition with private enterprise com-
pelled the state to manage its own property with
frugality and intelligence, to be able to sustain the
competition with private enterprise. The state re-
serves to itself the regulation at all times of the
number of trains to be run upon the private roads;
their connections with other railways, and the
amount of the terminal charges, are likewise under
state control. Before any contract between two
different companies can be acted upon finally by
the companies themselves, it must be submitted to
the department of public works and the depart-
ment of roads and bridges, and receive their ap-
proval. —In every concession, clauses are intro-
duced, requiring the companies to take the cars of
other companies at certain rates, and to furnish the
motive power for them to some point upon their
own line, and the state can interfere authoritative-
ly in the event of any company refusing to comply
with these conditions. – Besides the competition
of the governmental railways, the private railways
of Belgium are subjected to the active and con-
stant competition of the numerous canals, which
form quite a network of waterways throughout
that little kingdom. From 1850 to 1860, the tend-
ency in Belgium was toward private ownership ;
since 1860, the tendency has been toward govern-
mental ownership, and this so strongly that prob-
ably in a few more years the government will be
the owner of substantially all the main lines of rail.
In 1870, about 400 miles of railway were bought
by the government, and since that time, about 600
miles more have been purchased. Competition,
however, can scarcely be said now to exist in a
country where the conditions of the competition
are fixed by so powerful a corporation as the state
has become, and the private owner is helplessly
impotent, and has no alternative but to sell out.
Yet the public in Belgium is well and satisfactorily
served by its railway system, and none of the dis-
graceful conditions of our own railway system
are known there. The overpowering force of the
competition of the state, of course, causes consid-
erable criticism and dissatisfaction on the part of
the investors in the shares of private railways, but
this competition on the part of the state is not a
new matter, as the projectors of the private lines
invested their moneys and built their lines with a
full knowledge of the competition to which their
lines should be subjected. In 1870, the net result
exhibited by the state railways was a return of 6
per cent. upon the capital invested, being, on the
whole, as great a net result as any railway system
in the world exhibits. – France. To each of the
great French lines, now six in number (originally
nine), a distinct territory was laid out, in which it
could construct its trunk line, which was supposed
to be a profitable one; it was then required as a con-
dition for having the district handed over to it, also
as part of the condition on which it was to operate
their main lines, to build a number of feeders and
local lines, which were supposed, on the whole,
not to be profitable. It was soon found, however,
that these secondary lines were so unprofitable and
burdensome, that, if they were to be built at all,
without danger to the abandonment of the main
lines, the state would have to come to the aid of
the railways. The state, thereupon, did advance
large sums of money to the railways, for the pur-
pose of constructing their loop lines, and made the
concessions upon the condition, that, at the end
of ninety years, all the lines should become state
property, and the state was to take the rolling stock
at a low valuation. — All the rates of charges, for
both passenger and freight traffic, are regulated
with the utmost minuteness in France. At any
time before the ninety years expire, the govern-
ment can purchase the whole of the road at a cap-
italization of an average of fifteen years' income,
after disregarding the two worst years, and taking
as the minimum figure of the capitalization the
lowest year immediately preceding the purchase,
below which figure it may not be capitalized. This
is done to prevent the state from resolving upon
the purchase immediately after an exceptionally
good year. The rates of fare and of freight traffic
are, of course, mere maximum rates, the compa-
nies being permitted to go as far below such rates
as they see fit. Every tariff of charges must be
submitted to the government for the purpose of
receiving its sanction, and a month’s notice must
be given of any proposed change. — France has a
perpetual committee to supervise its railways and
to arrange the tariff of charges, to settle disputes
between competing lines, and between the public
and the railways. This committee is composed
of the following persons: A president—the min-
ister of public works; a vice-president, who is
the director general of bridges, roads and rail-
ways; three experts appointed by the minister of
war; three experts appointed by the minister of
finance; one expert appointed by the minister of
the interior; one expert appointed by the minis-
ter of commerce; two inspectors general of bridges
and roads; one inspector general of mines, the
inspector general of railways, and a secretary.
This commission exercises both a commercial and
a technical control. — In France, every company
is bound to receive and carry forward all goods
tendered to it, and to publish, one month in ad-
vance, the mileage rate at which it will carry them,
and the time within which it will deliver them,
varying according to the distance carried. No
private arrangement of any kind is permitted to
be made with any organization. The terminal
charges are all prescribed. No one, interested in
the stock of the railway, or in its direction, is per-
mitted to make any contracts with the railway for
supplies, and even every passenger time-table is
504
RAILWAYS.
submitted to the government for approval. — In
France two tendencies have in recent years striven
for precedence : one, the extension of the owner-
ship by the state of the railway system, and the
hastening of the right of the state to purchase, in
less than ninety years, the rolling stock of the rail-
ways, and to acquire the rights of way of the ex-
isting lines; the other, a tendency to postpone the
acquisition by the state of the railway system of
France, coupled with the attempt, on the part of
the railway corporations, to make themselves in-
termediately less dependent on the state. M.
Leon Say, a well-recognized authority in matters
of finance and political economy in France, re-
cently became minister of France. His relation
to the house of Rothschild is a well-known one,
and it is also known that the house of Rothschild
is the largest owner of the share capital of the
most important and richest line of France, the
Chemin de fer du Nord. In his budgets Leon Say
devoted considerable space to the financial compli-
cations which may arise in consequence of the
large additional outlays that may be required by
the French government to acquire the existing
lines of rail, and discouraged as much as possible
additional outlays by the state, for the present,
either to extend the system of existing lines of
state rail, or to make any further attempts to
acquire such transfer by anticipating the time
for the acquisition by the state of the railways.
Notwithstanding his powerful influence and the
ability which all France recognized in him as
pre-eminently the best qualified statistician and
financial administrator, the French chamber of
deputies refused to give countenance to his sug-
gestions, and he was compelled to relinquish power
mainly by reason of the unpopularity of his posi-
tion on the railway question. — The railways owe
the French government about 600,000,000 francs,
and the French government is now in process of
investing additional sums of money, not only for
the purpose of building its own lines, but to enable
the railway companies to build lines of intercom-
munication in territory which is admittedly un-
profitable.—The ablest and strongest opponent to
Say's project was Allain Targé, who, in conclud-
ing the discussion in 1881, said: “You want to
temporize with the financial power of the great
railways. Know you, gentlemen, what this power
is? It is the greatest which now exists in France,
next to the state and the Order of Jesuits. You
are their confederates (addressing the ministry),
and do not as you should stand in a perpetual
condition of warfare with it. You can not deal
with the railways as individual associations which
are to be regarded each by itself, but you must re-
gard them from the point of view that they have
an interest in common, and that this common in-
terest is so great as to make it a serious competitor
to the state. They are indeed an imperium in im-
perio. They have a combined debt of 10,000,000,000
francs, and employ 280,000 officers. They stand
in relation with all the trades, industries, com-
merce and agriculture of the community, and in
the opening of such railway.
their hands rests the fate of all laborers. This
enemy you must fight, and the single weapon that
you have in your hands is the right to acquisition
and purchase. Their first word is, ‘No purchase,
no acquisition.’ You must never surrender this
weapon if you desire to hold power against them.”
The chamber, by an overwhelming majority, de-
feated Say's proposition, and France has again
determined that nothing shall interfere with the
ownership by the state of the railways at the time
Orginally fixed by the concession, and that if pos-
sible that time shall be cut short, under the power
of the French government, by a purchase long
before the ninety years of the original concession
shall expire. — North Germany. All concessions
are made by the minister of commerce, unless
there is to be a guarantee of interest, or a sub-
vention of some kind, in which event it must pass
through the form of a law. Since the formation
of the German empire, the separate states have
agreed to concede to the empire the power of ex-
propriation, and the new lines are to be con-
structed under the empire. This means under the
chancellor of the empire, who thereupon, through
a reichsgesetz, may authorize the construction of
any line involving the interest of the state or of
trade. — Prussia. At the commencement of its
system of railways, Prussia consciously renounced,
as to this service, all the benefits that are supposed
to flow from competition. The laws of 1838, sec-
tion forty-four, enacted that no second railway
running in the direction of the first one, and touch-
ing the same principal points, should be allowed
to be constructed by any promoters or corporators,
other than the promoters and corporators of the
first railway, within a period of thirty years from
The state, for a due
consideration, by the very same law, however, re-
served the right to purchase the property of all
the railways and appurtenances organized under
that law, after the lapse of thirty years. When
such authority was to be exercised, the state was
to pay twenty-five times the amount of the annual
average dividend paid to the shareholders during
the last five preceding years. It was also to pay
the debts of the company in the same manner as
the company would have paid them. — A number
of railways were built by governmental subven-
tion in Prussia, and many of them have since that
time become by foreclosure the property of the
state. To a great many others large loans were
made by the government, subjecting them to such
a measure of governmental control as practically
to make them state roads. As to all others, the
state claims a right of a third part of the net rev-
enue of the lines, beyond 5 per cent. — In 1870
there were in Prussia 3,204 miles of rail which be-
longed to the state, and 3,595 miles of rail which
belonged to private lines. All tariffs, both for
freight and passenger traffic, must be submitted
to the government, and receive its assent. These
tariffs must be published, and can not after-
ward be raised without the consent of the min-
ister of commerce. At the rates adopted, the
RAILWAYS.
505
companies are bound to convey, without distinc-
tion of persons, all goods delivered for convey-
ance, the transport of which is not forbidden by
police regulations. – Since the war with France,
and the consequent acquisition by the empire of
the Alsace and Lorraine lines of rail, by successive
enabling acts, the governmental acquisition of
railways proceeded with great rapidity, so that
each year circumscribed the number of private
lines, and now there are but very few lines to be
acquired to make the whole railway system of
Prussia a strictly governmental institution. In-
• deed, the railway directory never fully survived
the decree of June, 1870, by which the minister
of commerce took possession of the railways for
military purposes, and held possession of them
during the war with France. At the close of the
war, the state claimed and exercised the right to
superwise the expenditure of railways and to take
part in their deliberations, also to determine the
amount that they are to carry to the sinkingfund,
and the amount they are to pay as dividends.
From that time forth the paternal and inquisitorial
power of the government was so relentlessly ex-
ercised against them, that all power of resistance
to state absorption was undermined, and they fell
an easy prey to the will of the iron chancellor
Eismarck, who had determined that the lines
should become the property of the state. The di-
rectors of the private roads protested at first against
this interference, claiming that under the laws
creating them they were exempt from supervision
of that kind. To this the minister of commerce an-
swered, that he claimed the right of the royal com-
mission, to take part at the meetings of the boards
of the private railway companies, so as to see to
it that the object of the meetings was in the inter.
est of the public. He said that the railway admin-
istration could rest assured that the supervision of
the state would make itself less and less felt in
proportion as the railway administration, by a
prompt, cheap and safe service, gave evidence to
the public that they rightly comprehended and
were endeavoring to fulfill, to the satisfaction of
important public interests, the trust placed for
public purposes in their hands. The minister of
commerce closed his answer with the following
significant admonition : “I can not, therefore, but
recommend that the Prussian railway administra-
tions press no further the opinion of the narrow
limits of state supervision over private railways,
as expressed in their memorial presented to the
chancellor, as it is a position which certainly is
not pressed in the interest of the shareholders.
This much is certain, that for a long time past the
Commercial public has demanded the restriction of
the independent power of railway administration,
which went beyond the restraints hitherto en-
forced.” — The rapidity with which the acquisi-
tion of the private railways by the Prussian gov-
ernment has proceeded is indicated by the follow.
ing figures : At the end of 1879 there were 3,800
miles of state railways; 2,170 miles of private
lines under state control; and 6,200 miles of
private lines under state supervision. At the end
of 1881 there were 7,070 miles of state lines; 2,170
miles under state management ; and 3,110 miles of
private lines. At the end of 1882 there were
9,500 miles of state lines, 1,320 miles of private
lines under state management, and 2,400 miles of
private lines. – The control of all this great sys-
tem of ownership of railways in Prussia is given
over to a special administration, at the head of
which is the minister of public works, and under
him are all the administrative officers, who re-
spectively are located at Berlin, Bromberg, Mag-
deburg, Hanover, Ehrfurt, Frankfort, Elberfelt,
Cologne and Breslau. These directors are ap-
pointed by the crown, and are special administrat-
ors to take the place of the private and individual
administrators of the lines to which they respect.
ively relate. These administrators have in charge
the expenditure of moneys necessary for the es-
tablishment of new lines, and by the law of 1883
10,000 miles of new lines, to belong to the state
and to connect with the existing lines, were de-
vised. Mr. Von der Leyen, himself one of the most
intelligent co-operators in this system of state ac-
Quisition, and holding a position of great trust
under the minister of public works, in an article
published in 1883, in the “Annual of Legislation,
Administration and Political Economy,” Berlin,
says that “the first beneficial effects of the acqui-
sition of the railways by the state in Prussia, was
the uniformity of tariffs throughout the empire,
and the impossibility of obtaining special rates
or personal favoritism ; also the extension of the
through ticket system, and the cheapening of
transportation for workingmen and persons of
moderate means.” The beneficial effects of these
reforms is indicated by the increase of business.
From 1879 to 1882 it rose from 12,000 car loads to
15,000 car loads. The surplus available for gen-
eral state purposes, arising from the administra-
tion of the railways, over and above interest on
money expended by the state on its state lines and
operating expenses, was, in 1878–9, $1,660,000; in
1879–80, $3,450,000; in 1880–1, $9,575,000; in
1881–2, $7,862,500. — Nearly all railway conces-
sions contain clauses making it incumbent upon
the board of administrators of the railway in all
cases to come to proper agreements as to corre-
spondence of time tables in the administration of
railways joining each other. The time tables can
only go into force upon the consent of the govern-
ment. Persons and merchandise must be con-
veyed in the order in which the application is
made. No difference is to be made between pas-
sengers and goods which come directly to the lines,
and those which come to them in transit from
other railways. A special tariff is also prescribed.
The state, therefore, in addition to being repre-
sented on every railway board, and being in
itself an administrator of railways, enters to a
large degree as a member into all the councils of
railway management in fixing rates and in deter-
mining through traffic. — A writer in the “Quar-
terly of Political Economy,” Berlin, 1876, in an
506
RAILWAYS.
argument against the maintenance of private Con-
trol of railway property,’ says, “the example of
the United States affords nothing to the point.
There, the administration and construction of rail-
ways in the hands of private individuals and cor-
porations is so bad, and so utterly irresponsible,
that that country affords no argument in favor of
private enterprise, and yet, notwithstanding this
condition of affairs, no one seeks a remedy for
the evils there existing by placing the railways
in the hands of the state, because corruption
has eaten so deeply into the government that its
ethical regeneration is scarcely to be expected
as long as it has a quadrennial rotation of office,
and the state treasury is regarded as the general
pocket from which each one is to abstract as much
as he can.” The reviewer then speaks of the
system in England, in which the railway has, by
amalgamation and consolidation, extended itself
and become a power within the state so great as
to be dangerous to the state. He refers to the
speech made by the president of the chamber of
commerce of Plymouth, who says that “the rail-
ways have become our great highways, and should
be regarded from an entirely different point of
view from any other undertaking.” The writer
further refers in his article to the opinion of the
royal railway inspector of Canada, in which he
says that the monopoly of the railway in that
province has become so great that the question
will very soon be debated, whether the railway
should own the state, or the state the railway.
From all the conditions resulting from allowing
free scope in private enterprise in railway cons,
struction and management, the reviewer comes to
the conclusion, that on the whole it would perhaps
be better for the German states to Own the rail-
ways than to allow them to continue to be private
enterprises, though subject to state control. —
Austria. This country followed the course of
France, by making concessions for the period of
ninety years to the railways. The government
built several important trunk lines at the expense
of the state, some of which are operated by private
corporations, but it still owns its main trunk lines.
Its system of supervision of state lines, as to the
tariff of both passenger and freight traffic, is com-
plete. — Switzerland. No state lines exist in Switz-
erland. The republic has allowed private en-
terprise to build a net-work of railways. It has,
however, an extremely effectual system of super-
vising the tariff of charges which must exist
thereon. A perpetual commission regulates the
relations of the corporations to the stockholders
and the public, and provides for a thorough inves-
tigation of their affairs, and their constant public-
ity. — Italy. This country owns of its lines about
1,000 miles of rail, and is in negotiation for about
4,000 miles more, so that within a very short time
it will possess a large majority of the mileage
of rail within its own territory. — In all these
countries, therefore, even including England, the
railway has never been regarded wholly as a mat-
ter of private enterprise. In the majority the
state built or assumed ownership of the trunk,
lines, and in all of the nations of continental
Europe the proper conduct of these corporations
has been regarded as so bound up with the welfare
of the community that they could not safely be
left wholly to private enterprise, but that the
state, representing the public, should exercise con-
tinuously a more or less rigid control over their
construction and administration. —Taking up the
history of the relation of the government to the
railways in England, where we left it with Mr.
Morrison’s speech in 1839, let us look at the steps.
taken by the English people and government to."
reacquire, as to railway enterprises, the control
which, notwithstanding the warnings given by
men like Stephenson and Morrison, they had al-
lowed to slip from their hands. – In 1839 an at-
tempt was made by royal commission to subject
railway schemes to some harmonious direction as:
to the points from which the roads were to radiate
and to which they were to go, so as to make them.
somewhat analogous to the French system; but
the reply came that it was already too late, be-
cause so many railroads had already been con-
structed and projected, that it would be an unjust
impairment of the rights of property to interfere:
with them; that the roads were already built, and
could not be removed, and that others were too.
far under way to have their powers changed.
Between 1836 and 1839 public agitation was di-
rected mainly against excessive charges for pas-
senger traffic; as to which, limitations were there-
upon fixed. The powers of the railways had
already become so great that many members of
parliament were directly under their influence,
and many others owed their seats to the railway
power. Notwithstanding this influence, however,
a bill was introduced in 1840 to create a commis-
sion for the superintendence of railways, the com-
mission to be a kind of sub-organization to the
board of trade. This bill, after several amend-
ments, was carried, mainly through the influence
of Sir Robert Peel, who, although a few years
before bitterly opposed to any interference with
private control of the railway system, now ad-
mitted “that they were monopolies, and that it
was necessary to create some tribunal as a stand-
ing investigating committee for parliament, to
prevent too manifest and too great an abuse On
the part of these powerful and moneyed Organi-
zations.” The bill was considerably modified dur-
ing its passage through the house, more espe-
cially in the second section, which, as originally
reported, had provided for a uniform system of
book-keeping, and for a very thorough system of
reports on the part of the railways to the board of
trade. This provision, however, in the bill that
eventually became law, was so emasculated as to
require simply reports in such manner as the rail-
ways saw fit to make them. The bill as passed
embodied a clause which established a bureau of
railways as a part of the board of trade. — A.
glance at the 55th volume of “Hansard’s Debates,”
p. 125, etc., will show how greatly the ablest men
RAILWAYS.
507
in parliament were, at that time, under the influ-
ence of general phrases in relation to the non-inter-
ference of government, and how completely they
misunderstood the essentially monopoly character
of the railway corporation, interference with which
was, in this case, a duty which, if neglected, was a
renunciation of one of the chief functions of gov-
ernment. It was assumed in the debate, by those
who were opposed to the bill, that the right of the
state with reference to the railways was entirely
limited to securing the safety of the traveling pub-
lic, and that as to the carrying of freight or goods
the railway was an entirely private enterprise, like
any other common carrier. The first protest of
moment against this view, in addition to Mr. Mor-
rison’s efforts, was the publication of William
Gault's pamphlet on “Railway Reform * in 1843.
After a very thorough examination of the whole
subject, and recognizing fully the fact, that, in its
importance, the railway bore the same relation to
the highway that the highway bore to the foot-
path, inasmuch as the traffic of the country was
being carried, to a very considerable degree, almost
wholly by rail, he came to the conclusion that the
existing lines of rail should be acquired by the
state, and that all further extensions of the rail.
way system should be carried on by the state as
the owner of the public roads. – At the beginning
of the session of 1844, Mr. Gladstone, then presi-
dent of the board of trade, requested the house of
commons to appoint a committee to report what,
if any, changes should be made in relation to the
consideration of railway bills; what amendments
should be made in the railway concessions and
franchises already granted, and what changes, if
any, should be made in the standing orders as to
the manner of the consideration of railway bills.
Mr. Peel objected to the extent of the inquiry,
claiming that it was an interference with vested
rights, to consider grants already made. He ex-
pressed his conviction, at that time, that the fur-
ther development of the railway system would
bring about a competition which in time would do
away with much of the monopoly character of
those enterprises. A committee of fifteen was ap-
pointed, and testimony was taken, mainly upon
the question of the absence of competition and
combination between railways, the building of
loop lines for subserving special interests without
regard to the public needs, and the tendency to
amalgamation which then had begun to make it-
self felt. A large proportion of the time of the
committee was taken up in the examination of the
question of minimum rates for passenger traffic.
Mr. Glyn, the banker, who, next to Hudson, the
railway king, was, at that time, the largest share
proprietor in England, and who had been for many
years, and was then, the president of the London
& Birmingham railway, stated his conviction that
no corporation ought to have any larger powers
than were absolutely necessary for the profitable
working of its line; he conceded that if the mat-
ter were an entirely new question, he had no doubt
whatever but that the best way of dealing with it
was for the state to own the railways, because, he
said, the people as a whole had as much right to
their great public highways as they had to the light
of heaven. On economic grounds, however, he
disapproved of the purchase of the railways by
the state, saying he feared the state would be
cheated in the transaction, and intimating that the
roads had not cost what they were capitalized at;.
but he believed that thenceforth it was the duty
of the state to control the railways with greater
rigor and force. The report finally made by this
committee contained a severe criticism upon the
then existing mode of considering and passing
railway bills, which the report suggested should
all be submitted to the board of trade for criticism
before being entertained by the proper committees.
of the houses of commons and of lords. Parlia-
ment took up the report for action in 1844. The
suggestion was then made, that, when any new
railway shall, after fifteen years, pay for three
successive years, consecutively, 10 per cent. divi-
dends, it shall be in the power of the board of
trade to revise its tariff, but in that event, that par-
liament must guarantee the 10 per cent. dividend
to the railway. This suggestion was again modi-
fied by the further suggestion that the board of
trade could demand a rebate of the guarantee by
reason of bad management. A further limitation
was made by providing, that, during the existence.
of the guarantee, the corporation shall not increase
its capital stock, and that at the end of fifteen,
years the board of trade might purchase every
new railway at twenty-five times the average divi-
dends of the last preceding three years, from
which, however, a deduction was to be made for
insufficiency of the permanent way, and the roll-
ing stock being out of repair. — Against the pass-
age of this bill the railways fought principally for
time. In this they were aided by the powerful Sir
Robert Peel, who suggested that a year's notice,
at least, should be given before a bill of such mag-
nitude could be passed. (Hansard’s Debates, vol.
i., 76, p. 482.) — Mr. Gladstone referred to Mr.
Saunders’ testimony and to that of George Hudson,
showing that the railways did not consider them.
selves free from competition and Opposition by
other lines of rail, and his admission was used by
the opposition to show that the natural law of
competition would apply to cure the evils that
were complained of. Mr. Gladstone, in a speech,
showed that the threat of the passage of this law
did not prevent new railways from being organ-
ized; that fifty new bills, representing £20,000,000,
had been filed since the report was made. He stat-
ed, that, though he knew the railway had become
sufficiently powerful to send representatives into
parliament instead of having them hang around
the lobby, he did not believe they would become so
formidable, or that parliament had sunk so low,
that its members would, at the bidding of the rail-
way interests, refrain from giving their sanction to
the bill unanimously reported by their own com-
mittee.—John Bright was the most formidable Op-
ponent to Mr. Gladstone's suggestion. He was a
508
RAILWAYS.
free trader, flushed with the great victory which
had just attended his efforts in the establishment
of his principles, and was ready to apply these prin-
ciples to the most incongruous subjects. He was
in the full vigor of his power, and had already
made for himself a great reputation for honesty of
purpose and for Oratory. He dwelt upon the enor-
mous benefits which railways had conferred upon
society, showed that they were the benefactors of
mankind, and that monopolies had always been
the enemies of mankind; and therefore, he argued,
it was monstrous to apply the term monopoly to
them. He showed that the railways then al-
ready represented, in the way of vested capital,
£60,000,000 in England; that they were carrying
25,000,000 passengers annually; and that it was
extremely dangerous to interfere with so great and
constantly growing an interest. — Sir Robert Peel
argued on both sides of the question, but insisted,
almost in the spirit of apology, that the govern-
ment had a right to provide the same sort of pub-
licity, with reference to the railways, that it had
provided with reference to the bank of England’s
accounts, and he concluded with asking a vote in
favor of the bill.
reading, 186 votes in its favor, against 98 in oppo-
'sition. Among those who opposed it were Messrs.
Bright, Cobden, Milnor Gibson, Ricardo and Ma-
caulay. The bill was then considerably amend-
ed before it obtained its third reading, all the
amcndments being in favor of the railways. As
modified, it was passed, but the modifications
made it useless legislation. The changes that were
made in it gave the railways twenty-one years in-
stead of fifteen, before their railway tariff could be
changed, notwithstanding the payment of 10 per
cent. dividend. It was then provided that the
guarantee of the state should run for twenty-one
years after the 10 per cent. annual dividend, thus
making it quite certain that the state would never
interfere with the tariff. All the deductions which,
in the event of purchase, were to be made, by rea-
son of bad management and restrictions upon in-
crease of capital, and for want of repair, of per-
manent way and rolling stock, were struck out.
The provisions with reference to the purchase by
the government were thus made extremely onerous
to the state. As the provision in relation to state
acquisition was further modified, so that before it
could take effect it required another act of parlia-
ment to guarantee the purchase money, the act
has remained ever since, to all intents and pur-
poses, a dead letter. — The discussion on this bill
did, however, direct public attention to the ques-
tion, and the “Quarterly Review º' of 1844, in an
article on “Railway Legislation,” (pp. 224, 280),
says in conclusion : “It is perfectly clear that
sooner or later this great public trust can not re-
main in the hands of private corporations. The
railways themselves have given the best evidence
of their desire and of the necessity for amalga-
mation, by which they admit that the individual
corporation can not, in a system which requires
unformity and harmony, exercise absolute sway;
The bill obtained, on the second
and when the time shall have arrived that this
amalgamation will bring the railway into the
hands of the fewer corporations, or of a single
corporation, which means into the hands of a few
individuals, it is then but a step to the suggestion
that the state, for its own safety, is compelled to
take possession thereof; for a system of trans-
portation which permeates every part of the land,
which destroys and devours every other system of
intercommunication, which incorporates itself in-
to every public and private interest, which is as uni-
versal and all-present as the arterial and venous sys-
tems of the human body, sooner or later will come
under the general control, for better or worse, of
the state organization.” — In 1844, a special act
was passed (8 and 9 Victoria, chap. 96) by which
general leasing powers in private railway acts
were restricted, and all powers granted by any pri-
vate act of that session, to lease, were repealed. —
Pursuant to the act of 1844, a railway board, which
existed just one year, was constituted as part of
the board of trade, the duty of which was to re-
port upon new railway schemes and purchases,
and upon proposed extensions, amalgamations and
competition. The board reported by giving its
decisions without assigning reasons. It sat in se-
cret, and published no debates. This un-English
proceeding subjected it to a degree of criticism
and animosity that compelled the government to
recommend that the board be abolished, which
was accordingly done in 1845. In that year the
competition between railway corporations became
so keen, and the canal companies suffered to such
a degree from it, that a law was passed authoriz-
ing the canal companies to vary their tolls, and to
borrow money so as to maintain the competition.
The railways thereupon rapidly bought up the ca-
mals, and canal and railway amalgamations went
on with great vigor. In 1846, one year thereafter,
a committee of parliament reported, that within
that year a large number of canals had passed
practically under the control of the railway cor-
porations, and were working under joint man-
agement. This committee recommended that all
amalgamation between canal and railroad compa-
nies should be forbidden, except under the sanc-
tion of parliament. They also recommended that
it was absolutely necessary that some department
of the executive government should be so consti-
tuted as to command general respect and confi
dence, and to be charged with the supervision of
railways and canals, with full power to enforce
such regulations as might, from time to time, be
indispensable for the accommodation and general
interest of the public. They particularly recom-
mended this in view of the fact that the private
arrangements which are made between railway
companies and railway and canal companies, and
which may or may not be ultra vires, do not come
under the supervision of parliament at all, and ex-
pressed their belief, that, with a properly consti-
tuted executive body, it would come under their
supervision, and could be subjected to restriction.
— Between 1844 and 1846, came the period, al-
TAILWAYS.
509
ready referred to, of the railway speculative mania.
The influence which that had upon parliament is
given by Francis, in his “History of the Railway,”
in these words: “Members were personally can-
Vassed, solicitations were made to peers, influences
of the most delicate nature were used, promises
were given to vote for special lines before the ar-
guments were held, advantages in all forms and
phases were proposed to suit the circumstances of
some and the temper of others. Letters of allot-
ment were tempting, human nature was frail, and
the premium on five hundred shares irresistible.
The ‘Athenaeum,’ about that time, said: ‘It is the
fashion to assume that our legislators are not now
open to pecuniary bribes. It may be so, but we
must leave that question to be decided by our
children’s children. If public rumor be no more
than usually scandalous and false, there are some
Curious revelations yet in store for these young-
sters, relating to railway bills.’ The curious reve-
lations had not to be waited for until the birth of
our children’s children, but they came in 1845, and
in the winter of 1846, with the railway crash. A
return called for by the house of commons, of the
dealers in railway undertakings, formed a very
remarkable blue book. The noble, who, in the
pride of blood and birth, had ever held traffic in
contempt, was there blazoned as a trader. The
priest, who, at his desk, prayed to be delivered
from the mammon of unrighteousness, was there
revealed in the city to sell his scrip at a pre-
mium. There were 900 lawyers, and 364 per-
sons connected with the banking interest, who sub-
scribed contracts for above £2,000; one solicitor
was down for £154,000. There were 157 members
of parliament, of whom one signed for £290,000,
one for £250,000, and one for £171,000; while
the remainder were down for sums which must
have influenced their feelings to a degree which
might have influenced their votes.” (Francis'
“History of Railways,” vol. ii., pp. 188–190.) — In
1846 an act was passed constituting the railway
Commission, which was composed of five persons,
the president of which was paid £2,000 a year,
two members were paid £1,500, and two others
received no pay. The main purpose of this com-
mission was to take into consideration all schemes
which were to be submitted to parliament, to
make special inquiry and reports, and formally
to report upon all bills before parliament on rail-
Way matters, so as to guide the parliamentary com-
mittee. But as the railway committees of the
house of commons and house of lords refused to
be guided by the recommendations of this com-
mission, it was abolished, and their duties were
once more transferred to the board of trade. A
Series of bills was passed to prevent the absorp-
tion of lines by rival companies, but the ingenuity
of railway counsel was superior to the ingenuity
that drafted these bills, and by the purchase of
stock of other railways and appointing railway
directions who were mere simulacrums, the rail-
Way Corporations absorbed each other's lines with-
Out having parliamentary powers so to do. — In
1853 another railway special committee was ap-
pointed by parliament. This committee, after
taking testimony, recommended the appointment
of a committee of a more permanent character
than had theretofore been in existence, to consider
all schemes submitted to parliament at every ses-
Sion, and that a railway department of the gov-
ernment should be created for the purpose of
affording assistance and advice whenever the
committee might desire it. It then pointed out
that amalgamation of railways had proceeded to
such a degree in England, that each particular
part of England had become the centre of a sys-
tem of railway management of its own, and that
the great railway corporations had swallowed up.
all the competing and intersecting lines. It sug-
gested the passage of a bill relating to the traffic
arrangements between different companies, and
submitted a plan of a measure by which the
canals were to be maintained. The result of these
recommendations was the passage of the canal
and railway traffic act of 1854 and a prohibition of
preferences in traffic contracts given by different
railways. Part of the scheme of the act of 1854
was to submit grievances to the board of trade
only, after the court of common pleas, sitting as
a court, assisted by an engineer and barrister,
had determined that an actual grievance existed.
This part of the act proved inoperative. Lord
Campbell foresaw and foretold that it would be-
come inoperative, insisting that a lay tribunal
should be created for the investigation of such
Questions, and that judges were not the proper
persons to consider matters of that kind, as they
were naturally disinclined to act in an advisory
manner to governmental bureaus, and that such
disinclination would render resort to them well
nigh useless. However, the law of 1854 con-
tained one very useful provision, to the effect that
no preferences of any kind should be given by
railways for services of a like character, and for-
bade all discrimination between individuals as to
traffic of like character. — In 1865 a royal com-
mission was appointed to consider the subject of
railway communication. It made its report in
1867, after taking a great mass of testimony as to
British and foreign railways. As regards legisla-
tion, this commission insisted upon the expediency
of requiring the board of trade to assist the parlia-
mentary committees by reports. It made many val-
uable suggestions as to interchange of traffic; it con-
sidered the subject of amalgamation, and the ne-
cessity of checking it; nothing was done, however,
to prevent the proceeding of the amalgamation and
consolidation of English railways, as is shown by
the fact, that, in 1845, the London & North West-
ern railway had owned but 379 miles of road, and
that in 1870 it operated and owned 1,507 miles.
The Great Western, which originally consisted of
118 miles, operated and owned 1,370 miles in the
year 1870. The North Eastern, which in 1846
owned 274 miles, had, in 1870, extended its line so
as to be the owner of 1,281 miles; and the Great
Eastern, which originally had 138 miles of road,
j10
RAILWAYS.
operated and owned 874 miles in 1870. Amalga-
mation had therefore proceeded in England to Such
a degree, that, in 1870, the field was practically
divided between the great lines of railway, so that,
somewhat like France, England had seven great
systems of lines brought into existence without
concessions of fields of territory by the state, but
which by the natural course of development and
consolidation, and the economy produced by such
consolidation, divided the field of railroad enter-
prise in England, and created a concentrated pow-
er that presented at that time to the English govern-
ment the formidable question, whether ultimately
the state should control the railways, or the rail-
ways control the state.—We now come to the most
important epoch in the English railway'history, one
reversing the policy which, down to that period,
regarded the railway as private enterprises—the
appointment of a joint select committee, in 1872, of
the house of lords and house of commons, to con-
sider the subject of railways. This committee was
composed of Mr. Chichester Fortescue, Lord Der-
by, the Marquis of Salisbury, Earl Cowper, Lord
Redesdale, Lord Belpur, Mr. Hunt, Mr. Childers,
Mr. Cross, Mr. Dodson, and Mr. Stephen Cave.—
After taking testimony, covering, with appendix,
upward of a thousand pages of an English folio
blue book, the committee recommended the or-
ganization of a new tribunal to consider railway
grievances, constituted both as a court and as an
advisory committee on railway legislation. The
committee recommended this course in preference
to fixing tariffs by statute, as the change of cir-
cumstances often makes such tariffs inapplicable
or impossible. This was not only the recommenda-
tion of the committee, but followed the opinion of
almost every leading railway official of England
who was examined as to the proposed remedies,
among whom were Mr. Allport, Sir Edward Wat-
kin, Mr. Price, Mr. Broughton, Mr. Dawson, and
others. — The committee conceded that it was
difficult to provide any fixed or self-regulating
rules which would, through the medium of self-
interest or of the ordinary action of law, protect
the public. They recommended that the proposed
tribunal should be endowed with certain func-
tions, among which were, to see to it that railways
publish rates and fares and live up to them, and
to consider and act upon such alterations as from
time to time are adopted in the classifications; to
examine into every case of undue preference; and
to investigate complaints of unfairness between
traders or between towns and districts, so far as
they can be raised under the railway and canal
traffic act (Lord Cardwell’s act of 1854, and amend-
ments). It having been found that the expense
of going to the Court of common pleas was so
great as to give the wealthy companies great ad-
vantages over private traders, and that the non-
publication of rates prevented the trader from
knowing whether he had a case or not, the com-
mittee recommended that exclusive jurisdiction be
given to the tribunal to examine into cases of
preferences, and that appeals from these decisions
be limited to such cases as the special tribunal
should certify involved questions of law which
should be considered by the Westminster tribu-
nals. A further function with which, according
to the recommendations of the committee, the tri-
bunal was to be clothed, was to see to it that
jproper facilities be given for the forwarding of
passengers and goods under the provision of the
railway and canal traffic act relating to that sub-
ject. — It was conceded in the report of the com-
mittee by Mr. Broughton, Sir Edward Watkin
and Mr. Price, that the courts were incompetent
to deal with the subject, and that arbitration was
unsatisfactory; hence the necessity for the Organ-
ization of a tribunal to secure those ends. – The
committee also recommended the control of tolls
on canals by the tribunal, and the enforcement of
any obligation imposed on the railway companies
to secure the proper maintenance of free naviga-
tion on the canals. The tribunal was to settle
Questions between the local authorities and the
companies concerning new branch lines, and also
to settle all disputes between railway and canal
companies. They were also to settle all questions
arising between the war and postoffice depart-
ments on the one hand, and the companies on the
other. — The additional duty to be conferred on
this special body was to advise parliament in refer-
ence to railway legislation. As to the necessity
for constituting this court, the committee say :
“No existing institution possesses the necessary
qualities. The board of trade has not the requi-
site judicial character or means of action, a court
of law fails in practical knowledge and adminis-
trative facility, and the committees of the houses
of parliament have no permanence.” A new body,
therefore, was, in their opinion, to be constituted
for all these purposes, and to wield all these pow-
ers, to be called the railway and canal commission,
and to consist of no less than three persons of
high standing, one of whom should be an eminent
lawyer, and another a person well acquainted with
railway management, their proceedings to be as
simple and inexpensive as is consistent, with giving
due consideration to and hearing questions openly
and fairly. In conclusion, the committee state
that “competition between railways exists only
to a limited extent, and can not be maintained by
legislation; that combinations between railway
companies were increasing and likely to increase,
whether by amalgamation or otherwise; that the
self-interest of the companies alone was not Suf-
ficiently protective of public interests, and that
their interest was only to a limited extent the
interest of the public. And it therefore becomes
necessary,” they add, “to consider what can be
done in the way of enforcing statutory obliga-
tions.” As to the ineffectual character of past
legislation, both in limiting dividends and creating
a maximum of rate of charge, the committee were
by no means mealy mouthed in the way of con-
demnation. They say of the railway companies,
“They are monopolies who are unlimited in their
charges for carriage except by the parliamentary
RAILWAYS.
b11
maximum, and who are restricted by no definite
limit whatever as regards terminal charges; these :
two charges they mix up together, and under the
present system do not separate. They are prac-
tically under no restriction except that of their
own interest, which may not be the same as that
of the public. They claim and exercise the right
to vary their charges to any extent they please
within the parliamentary maximum, to favor one
set of men or description of goods at the expense
of another; to charge high rates for short dis-
tances, and low rates for long distances, or to
charge two different rates for the same service if
they think it to their interest to do so; and not
only do they claim to exercise all these powers, but
they refuse to tell the public how they exercise
them or why they exercise them. The remedies
given by the canal and traffic act of 1854 must,
under such circumstances, fail for want of the re-
quisite knowledge; and the recent act, by which
Companies carrying goods are bound, on applica-
tion made within a week after payment, to give
an account distinguishing between rates for con-
veyance and terminal charges, is wholly useless,
because, in the first place, the trader is practically
unable to enforce the law against the rich and
powerful company; in the Second place, he wants
to know what he has to pay before paying it, and
also what his neighbors and rivals are paying; and
in the third place, because the companies do not
themselves distinguish accurately between terminal
charges and mileage, and, when an inquiry is made,
can only give an approximate answer.” — Upon
the question whether the interest of the public
and that of the companies are identical in the same
Sense that they are in the case of a private trader,
the committee say, “That it must not be hastily
assumed that self-interest will play the same part
in these large undertakings which it plays in or-
dinary trading concerns. There is a powerful
bureaucracy of directors and officers. The real
Imanagers are far removed from the influence of
the shareholders, and the latter are, to a great ex-
tent, a fluctuating and helpless body. The history
of railway enterprise shows how frequently their
interests have been sacrificed to the policy, the
Speculations or the passions of the real managers.
On the other hand, the directors and principal
officers of these great undertakings are often men
of high standing, who feel that their position is
Something different from that of mere managers of
a trading concern, and become in a certain sense
amenable to public opinion, and especially to its
expression in parliament. Thus for good as well
as for evil the management of railways differs
from that of an ordinary trade or manufacture,
and approximates in some degree to the business
of a public department.” And as a summary of
the history of legislation preceding the sessions of
the committee, they state “that committees and
Commissions carefully chosen have for the last
thirty years clung to one form of competition after
another, but that it has nevertheless become more
and more evident that competition must fail to do
for railways what it does for ordinary trade, and
that no means have yet been devised by which
competition can be permanently maintained.” —
This report, made under a liberal government, and
one which was, therefore, considerably under the
influence of the very men who opposed all inter-
ference with railways, on the ground that such in
terference was, in one form or another, a violation
of the principles of free trade, marked a complete
change of the views of the leading political think-
ers of England. Even Mr. Bright no longer opposed
the formation of a railway commission. Experi-
ence had taught the English people that in many
departments of human activity the doctrine of
non-interference of government would not apply,
and not only were railways rapidly being sub-
jected to governmental supervision and control,
but also factories, merchant shipping and other
industrial manifestations. The report of the rail-
way committee of 1872 resulted in the law of 1873,
creating the tribunal recommended by the com.
mission. The gentlemen appointed by the crown
under this commission were Sir Frederick Peel
(the second son of Sir Robert Peel), Mr. William
Phillip Price, who was for many years the chair-
man of the Midland railway company, and Mr.
Macnamara, who held the position until 1877 (the
time of his death), when his place was filled by the
appointment of Mr. Alexander Edward Miller.
Mr. Balfour Browne became the registrar of the
railway commission. A large number of cases
were brought before the commission, which were
promptly and ably dealt with. — The commission
was originally appointed for five years. During
those five years the railroad companies tried two
different methods of discrediting the commission.
One method was, by carrying cases up on appeal,
to show that the commission acted arbitrarily and
against law; the other was, to avoid as much as
possible resort to the commission by complying
with all the laws, and settling cases before they
could be brought to the commission's attention.
By the one course they tried to prove that the com-
mission was composed of men not well qualified
for the work, and by the other, that it was super-
fluous. In both attempts they signally failed.
The cases carried up on appeal by them were gen-
erally affirmed in favor of the commission, and the
fact that the fear of the railway commission in-
duced the railway companies to behave with proper
regard for the laws which constituted them and
in the interest of the public, did not prove that
the rod was superfluous by reason of it not being
necessary to apply it, but proved that the very ex-
istence of the Commission had a wholesome effect
upon the railway companies. In 1878, therefore,
notwithstanding the efforts of the railway corpo-
rations, and more especially the strenuous oppo-
sition of Sir Daniel Gooch, Chairman of the Great
Western railway, the commission was reconstitut-
ed by an act enlarging its powers, and the same
commissioners were continued in office. The rail-
way commission is now a permanent tribunal of
the English judicial and administrative system,
512
RAILWAYS.
and will in all probability be made, within a very
short period, one of the branches of the supreme
court of judicature, with the power of appeal lim-
ited so as to avoid the expensiveness of protracted
litigation ruinous in England to a private litigant
against the practically illimitable purse of a great
corporation such as the London & North Western
or London & Midland railway. — With the ap-
pointment of the commission of 1873, the English
railway system entered upon a new plase. A
proposition of the ownership by the state of the
railways of England, which twenty years ago was
almost looked upon as chimerical, is now regarded
as a very possible; and will very soon be regarded
as a very probable, contingency. The amalgama-
tions which have been going on have somewhat
facilitated this possible acquisition by the state.
Lord Derby, in a discussion at a meeting of the
Society of Arts in 1873 upon that subject, stated
that he had not the slightest doubt, that, if the
public really wanted the railways purchased by
the state, it could be done, and the question of
price would not present any insuperable difficulty.
The first step in that direction has already been
taken in England by the purchase of the telegraph
lines and adding that service to the postal depart-
ment of the government.— Mr. Joseph Parsloe, in
a monograph on the railways, says upon this sub-
ject, after weighing the arguments pro and con. as
to state purchase, ‘‘that an endeavor has been made
to show that enormous benefits would accrue from
the management of railways by the state. At the
same time it should be only after the very fullest
consideration of the question, in all its multitudi-
nous bearings, that such a change in working the
system should be introduced. It has been a com-
mon practice on the part of some critics to char-
acterize as visionaries any who have urged the
adoption of a scheme of state purchase; or the
ability to form a correct judgment upon the mat-
ter has been questioned. For the most part such
criticism has originated with those interested in
keeping things as they are, and who, while ques-
tioning the usefulness of one proposal, have not
been prepared with any other to put in its place.
It will scarcely be questioned that our railways
have in them the material from which it is possi-
ble to obtain a much larger amount of national
benefit than is now derived. What remains to be
done is, that the best means shall be adopted for
the attainment of the greatest public good, and if
any plan preferable to state management can be
devised, it will doubtless be received with satis-
faction.” He himself seems to be doubtful as to
whether any such plan can be devised. — One of
the dangers apprehended by the opponents of state
interference in England was, that in the creation
of a special tribunal to Supervise railway adminis-
tration the individual shareholder would be in-
jured. The very opposite has been the result.
Apart from the fact, that from 1873 there was con-
siderable additional activity in the commerce of
England, a great general rise in the value of rail-
way securities has taken place since that time, not
entirely attributable to the increased activity of
trade and commerce, but due in great part to the
fact, that in England, as in all other countries
where private administrations were freed from the
direct Supervision of the state, the indirect and
comparatively remote supervision exercised by the
shareholders over the corporate managers was not
Sufficient to insure the most economical and wisest
administration. Special interests of railway di-
rectors would interfere with the administration,
would cause the building of loop lines for the
purpose of benefiting special local investments by
them and their friends, and even the management
of English railways is not entirely free from job-
bery to benefit members of the boards of direction.
The Supervision of the state has made this so dif-
ficult and almost impossible, that the administra-
tion of those trusts has sensibly and visibly im-
proved. No interest has reaped a larger benefit,
not even the public, than the shareholder himself,
from the reversal of the policy of the English gov-
ernment. Greater certainty and publicity of rail-
way charges, and the system of interchange of
traffic, facilitated and enforced by the railway
commission, have been of as great a benefit to the
stockholder, on the one hand, as the holding of
boards of direction to a rigid amenability to the
public has been of benefit, on the other hand, to
the people. SIMON STERNE.
RAILWAYS, Legislation Concerning, and
Management of, in the United States. After
the passage by the state of New York, in 1850, of
its general railway act (see the preceding article)
there was inaugurated in the United States a de-
liberate withdrawal of governmental supervision
from railway enterprises, on the theory that they
were private businesses, to be left as unrestricted as
the manufacture of boots or clothing. — The New
York law, with but slight modifications, was en-
acted by the various states, so as to promote rail-
way building, and also to remove the corrupting
tendency of special railway legislation. When
each railway corporation was the recipient of a
special grant by legislative enactment, the rail-
ways, in consequence of the large interests in-
volved, corrupted the members of the legislature,
and it was honestly supposed that by permitting
everybody to build railways the principle of com-
petition would be applicable. It was argued that
there could be no such thing as monopoly in mat-
ters free to all, and that the rivalry between the re-
spective lines for business would create, as to rail-
way administration and railway management, the
same beneficial results that rivalry and competition
create in other private enterprises. The rapid de-
velopment of the country from 1850 to 1857, under
the low tariff, good crops and general confidence,
in connection with the rapid development of the
railway system, prevented, down to that period of
time, any evil effects arising from this absence of
control from becoming apparent. Though some
few evil consequences did come to the surface, yet
these were so largely counteracted by the benefi-
RAILWAYS.
513
cial results of railway construction, that the com-
munity regarded them as but passing vexatious
incidents to a great benefit, and that time would
cure the evil. — When, in consequence of the
financial crisis of 1857, many of the railways be-
came embarrassed and mortgages were foreclosed,
a new device was concocted, which at the outset
appeared conservative and innocent enough, but
brought in its train evil consequences of consid-
erable magnitude in the relation of the railway to
the state. These foreclosures, if carried out rig-
orously, threatened to destroy the value of all
junior mortgages and of railway stock. The jun-
ior mortgagees and the stockholders thereupon
fought desperately in the courts, to delay as much
as possible the right of the holders of the bonds
under the first mortgage either to take possession
of the railway, or, by a sale under the hammer, to
cut out all equities beyond the first mortgage, in
the hope that such delay would tide the road over
into better times. To bridge over these difficul-
ties, and to prevent such delays, railway lawyers
devised a scheme of reorganization committees,
to represent in the reorganization of railways all
the rights existing with reference to the property
at the time of the insolvency, and on their behalf
to repurchase the property, and, by a new capital-
ization, to readjust these rights. Under the reor-
ganization the first mortgage holders received new
bonds representing again a first lien, and certifi-
cates or bonds to represent accrued interest; the
junior mortgages were again recognized by junior
liens or preferred stock; and the stockholders gen-
erally, on condition of making some payment to-
ward defraying the expenses of the readjustment
and putting the line in proper condition, received
scrip or stock to represent their former interests in
the roads. Bankruptcies, therefore, did not, after
this device was generally adopted, produce as to
railways the same result in the way of the de-
struction of fictitious value that they produce by
failure in other departments of business, i. e., to
transfer the commodities or property, by means
of such a sale or title, at bottom or conservative
figures; but, on the contrary, the stock and bond
capital of the corporations which had emerged
from insolvency came to the surface with a larger
capitalization than before default, with no con-
struction to balance such additional capitalization
account. Therefore, to enable the corporation to
pay, in addition to operating expenses, interest
upon its stock, the directions were under the
strongest incentive, and, even necessity, to oppress,
at non-competitive points, the territory where the
railways had a monopoly power. — The courts
lent themselves readily to this new device of reor-
ganization, because it appeared to be conservative
of vested rights of property, and prevented waste
and destruction. The possible influence of these
devices upon the future development of the rail-
way system in its relations to the state and the
people, was either not thought of or disregarded.
— From 1857 to 1860 many insolvent railways
were reconstructed upon this plan, and, at the
152 VOL. III. — 33
end of this reconstruction period these railways
emerged with a considerable additional capitaliza-
tion, representing simply accumulated debt. In
1861 the war broke out, severing the lines running
north and South, and in consequence of the oper-
ations of the government and the increased and
feverish activity of the country during the four
years of the war, the trunk lines running east and
west were greatly developed. It was during this
period of the war that congress began, upon an
extensive Scale, to charter the transcontinental
lines of rail so as to connect the Pacific coast with
the east. — The charter of the Union Pacific rail-
roads was passed July 1, 1862. Under this charter
the right of way, and a subsidy of land and of
money, were granted. By the act of July 2, 1864,
the governmental subsidy was greatly increased.
Land to the amount of five alternative sections
per mile on each side of the road was granted to
the railways. The secretary of the treasury was
required, upon a certificate in writing of the com-
missioners, showing the completion and equipment
of forty consecutive miles of railroad and tele-
graph lines, to issue to the company bonds of the
United States, of $1,000 each, to the amount of
$16,000 per mile; and as to the 150 miles west-
wardly from the eastern base of the Rocky mount-
ains, and 150 miles eastwardly from the western
base of the Sierra Nevada mountains, $48,000 per
mile, and between the two mountain chains $32,000
per mile. The Central Pacific railroad, chartered
under the laws of the state of California, was taken
care of in the same manner. A like amount of
land was granted to it, and a like sum of money
subsidy. These were not, however, the only
grants made by congress in this act. The Hanni-
bal & St. Joseph railroad, the Leavenworth, Paw-
nee & Western railroad and the Kansas Pacific
railroad became the recipients of sections of land
and subsidies of bonds. The Burlington & Mis-
souri railroad was also the recipient of a land grant.
— The act of 1862 gave to the government of the
United States, in return for the subsidy, a first
mortgage upon the railway property to be created
by the Union and Central Pacific railroads. The
act of 1864 allowed the corporation to postpone
the government's lien by a first mortgage to an
amount equivalent to the subsidy given by the
United States, and made the lien of the United
States for its money subsidy subordinate to that
of the bonds of the companies issued under such
first mortgage. About $65,000,000 was thus given
to these corporations, in addition to their valuable
land grants, and the lien of the government post-
ºponed to that of another mortgage, authorized to
be issued for an equal amount. The Union Pa-
cific railroad was thereupon constructed by an
organization known as the crédit mobilier, Com-
posed, as to persons interested therein, mainly
of the persons who were instrumental in pro-
curing the passage of the act, and who were
the real incorporators of the road. To this cor-
poration all the issues of bonds and stock were
made, and it also was the recipient of the Sub-
514
RAILWAYS.
sidy of the United States after building and
equipping certain parts of the road. It proved
an instrumentality of distribution of profits under
the cover of building the road. — The grants of
land to the Union Pacific railroad amounted to
2,000,000 acres; to the Ransas Pacific, 6,000,000
acres; to the Central Pacific, as successor of the
Western Pacific, 1,100,000 acres; to the Burling-
ton & Missouri River, and to the Sioux City &
Pacific, 2,500,000 acres. – On July 2, 1864, the
Northern Pacific railroad was also incorporated,
and although no money subsidy was given to that
corporation, it was the recipient of the largest land
grant of any of the corporations, being entitled to
receive under its grant 47,000,000 acres. By the
act of July 27, 1866, there was granted to the Or-
egon branch of the Central Pacific, 3,000,000 acres;
to the Oregon & California railroad, 3,500,000; to
the Southern Pacific, 6,000,000; and to the South-
ern Pacific branch line 3,500,000 acres. A consid-
erable proportion of this acreage may be saved to
the people by the failure of many of these railway
companies to complete their lines within the time
specified by the acts of incorporation. But these
grants show with how liberal a hand the congress
of the United States disposed of the public domain
in favor of these corporations, to aid them in the
construction of their lines. – During the same pe-
riod of time large grants of land, owned by the
general government within the states, were made
by congress to the states, for the purpose of en-
abling such states to make large land grants to the
railways proposed to be built within their borders.
As early as 1850, about 2,500,000 acres were granted
to the state of Illinois, and by it granted to the Illi-
nois Central railroad, mainly, to aid in its construc-
tion. In 1856 Florida received grants of land
amounting to about 2,000,000 acres, and which
Florida, in turn, transferred in great part to the
Florida railroad and the Florida & Alabama rail-
road. Arkansas was the recipient of more than
2,000,000 acres, which it, in turn, transferred al-
most wholly to railways. Minnesota, Kansas, Wis-
consin, Michigan and Iowa were all the recipients
of large grants of land, from which these states
endowed railway corporations by heavy grants of
land. The territory of the United States appeared
to the legislator of that period an inexhaustible
fund of land, and millions of acres were given
away with what now appears to be reckless extrav-
agance. Long anterior to these munificences on
the part of the general government, some of the
states were called upon to aid, by actual grants of
money, some of the railways which were built
within their borders. The state of New York paid:
to the various railroad corporations within its bor-
ders about $8,000,000, of which about $5,000,000,
granted to the Erie railroad company, was wholly
lost, and granted about $30,000,000 in municipal
and county subscriptions.—The right of the United
States to charter railway corporations was exer-
cised under the power given to it by the constitu-
tion “to regulate commerce with foreign nations
and among the Several states and the Indian tribes,
to establish postoffices and post roads,” and also
under the general authority to execute all powers
vested by the constitution in the government of the
United States, and likewise under the authority
given to congress to provide for organizing the
army. — The lines of the Pacific roads were con-
stituted post roads, as they necessarily carried on
the function of interstate commerce; and, as they
were required to carry the army and army supplies
of the United States, the establishment of these
corporations as United States corporations is war-
ranted under a liberal construction of the consti-
tution. As these corporations have been the recip-
ients of immense gifts of property from the gen-
eral government, and as the latter is in nowise re-
stricted by the prohibition as to impairing obliga-
tion of contracts, these beneficiaries can not possi-
bly make any valid claim against being subjected
to regulation, even if such regulation be in the na-
ture of afterthoughts on the part of the United
States government in the interest of the people of
the country. —The system of through lines, now
known as trunk lines, developed between 1868 and
1872. The Lake Shore road passed under the
control of the Wanderbilt interest, and there was
no longer any necessity to break bulk as far as
Toledo. The Michigan Southern and Michigan
Central likewise passed under the same control,
and through lines were established to Chicago, al-
though the several railways remained state organ-
izations, and were never consolidated as one com-
pany. The Pennsylvania railroad, under the name
of the Pennsylvania company, leased the Fort
Wayne road in June, 1869; the Erie & Pittsburg,
in March, 1870; the Columbus, Chicago & Indian-
apolis, in February, 1870; the Little Miami road
from Columbus to Cincinnati, likewise, in Febru-
ary, 1870, and the Cleveland & Pittsburg road, in
1871. These, together with the Ohio, Madison &
Indianapolis railroad, and the Cincinnati, Wilming-
ton & Zanesville railroad, gave to the Pennsylvania
line practically two lines to Chicago and one to Cin-
cinnati during the same period. The Baltimore &
Ohio road was opened to the Ohio river in 1852: it
leased the Central Ohio road in 1872, and then built
an independent line to Chicago in 1874, completing
its through connection to Chicago. The Grand
Trunk railway, by controlling and leasing other
lines and building links, pushed its connection at
about the same period through to Chicago, so that
there were substantially, from the seaboard to Chi-
cago, five trunk lines vying with each other for
business for the west, from the time these trunk
lines pushed their connections on to Indianapolis
and St. Louis. – Prior to completing the organi-
zation of these trunk lines, freight was compelled
to break bulk and suffer transshipment at the end
of each state line, where a new corporation took
up the traffic and carried it beyond. To prevent
this breaking of bulk, and to expedite the carriage
of freight, fast freight lines on Separate capitaliza-
tions were organized, at first by the managers of
the railways themselves owning or leasing their
freight cars, and then made profitable by special
RAILWAYS
515
arrangements with the railways readily enough
secured, because of the fact that the railway offi-
cials themselves were largely interested in the fast
freight lines. These lines carried a considerable
proportion of the traffic in the period anterior to
the organization of the trunk roads. With the
Completion of the trunk line west came also a
change in the organization of the fast freight
lines. The managers of the railways became more
largely interested in the success of their trunk or-
ganizations than in the subsidiary lines that were
absorbing a considerable proportion of the busi-
ness of the roads. These subsidiary lines were
therefore broken up, and the private corporations
abandoned : and each of the various railroad cor-
porations constituting the trunk lines, in the pro-
portion of the percentage of traffic carried over
their roads, as nearly as that could be ascertained,
contributed freight cars to the formation of fast
freight lines intended to carry through traffic.
Thus a great reduction in the cost and an increase
in the speed with which goods were carried, were
introduced, and it is now no longer necessary to
break bulk at various points, but goods can be
:Shipped to their terminus by either of the trunk
lines through the instrumentality of fast freight
lines connected with them. — From the fact that
a large portion of the business of the roads was
thereupon done by these fast freight lines, and
that these fast freight lines were represented by an
independent organization or staff of officers and
agents, it was supposed by the public that these
lines were barnacles fastened upon the railway
Companies for the purpose of abstracting from
them, to the advantage of the managers and to the
detriment of the shareholders, a large proportion
of their traffic. —Although this suspicion was
well founded in the early history of the fast freight
lines, it ceased to be true after the organization of
the trunkline system. A peculiar result, however,
arose from the existence of the fast freight lines as
an independent organization. In consequence of
the freedom of the freight agent of the fast freight
lines from the direct control of the trunk man-
agers of the railroads, the railroad companies
themselves found it almost impossible to fix a rate
of freight which would not, in the intense desire
to gain traffic, be immediately cut by the fast
freight lines doing business over their roads. Thus,
contemporaneously with agreements between the
trunk line organizations to maintain rates, an
active rivalry was kept up in the rates charged by
the railroad corporations themselves and by the
fast freight lines which ran over the roads and be-
longed to them. — The pool agreement, to which
reference will presently be made, removed this
difficulty. The financial crisis of 1873, like that
of 1857, caused the insolvency of a large number
of railroad corporations, and the same proceedings
which resulted in the emerging from bankruptcy
of the railroad corporations that became insolvent
in the preceding crisis, followed the insolvency of
the railroad corporations in 1873, by which recon-
Struction committees were appointed. The various
corporations emerged after insolvency through
this process of reconstruction with capitalizations
of funded debt and stock capital generally larger
than that with which they entered into this condi-
tion of insolvency, and without any additional
road or construction to account for the increase.
— The general depression of trade and the failure
of crops succeeding the crisis of 1873, and the
struggle for business between the roads, caused
them to carry through traffic to the east at very
low rates, for which they sought to compensate
themselves by excessive charges for local traffic.
This produced in the western states a very general
feeling of dissatisfaction with railway methods and
railway management, and gave rise to what is
known as the granger movement. — The western
states were more liberal than the eastern states in
grants of land and money to railroad corporations.
From 1860 to 1870 these railroad corporations
not only obtained large donations of land, but
counties, townships, cities and villages desirous to
become connected with the net-work of railways
of the United States, and to be brought into active
communication with the movement of commerce
throughout the country, vied with each other in
debt accumulation for the purpose of granting
subsidies to railways. A large proportion of the
whole bonded municipal indebtedness of the
United States is due to what may be termed the
frenzy on that subject. This recklessness of debt
creation for the purpose of obtaining railway com-
munications has some degree of justification in
far western states, which it would not have had in
any community otherwise situated. France, Eng-
land and Germany, and also the Seaboard and mid-
dle states of the United States, had, prior to the
existence of the railway, good means of intercom-
munication by canals and highways. But, in the
far western states, the railway was practically the
only road. The western counties, townships and
cities regarded the expenditures on railways as
something analogous or equivalent to expenditures
on the ordinary roads, and much of this debt crea-
tion was fostered by the influences of the railway
corporations themselves, and a great part of it was
doubtless fraudulently contracted through the
bribing of local officers. In many cases the rail-
ways obtained subsidies of bonds, which they
sold, and never built the railways. A large num-
ber of litigations, on the question of the liability
of the public bodies granting such subsidy bonds,
arose in the states themselves, many of which
were disposed of in the United States courts. The
innocent holders of these bonds sought to obtain
judgment against counties or towns, which, either
failing to obtain the consideration for which the
bonds were issued, or discovering that the bonds
were fraudulently issued, or from the mere desire
to repudiate the burden imposed by the issue,
sought to escape from the payment of the princi-
pal, or the levying of a tax to pay the interest. In
a great number of these cases the decision of the
supreme court of the United States was favorable
to the bondholders, and the burden once imposed
516
RAILWAYS.
was allowed to rest, however recklessly or extrav-
agantly the bonds were issued and the burdens
assumed. — The extent of this indebtedness, how-
ever, added fuel to the spread of the granger agi-
tation. The heavy local taxation reminded the
farmer or local tradesman of the aid which he
assisted in giving and was called upon to pay to
the railway; at the same time, the railway, which
he supposed would confer upon him a great bene-
fit, was placing his particular locality at a disad-
vantage by carrying past his door to more distant
points and to the seaboard freight at rates very
much lower than he was charged as local rates, the
reason being simply that the more distant point was
a competitive point, and he was entirely at the
mercy of a single railroad corporation.— The west-
ern farmer's efforts to seek relief from this condi-
tion of affairs would have met with very consider-
able obstruction had he not been aided by the
wording and language of the constitutions of the
several states, which enabled him to avoid any
contract relation being successfully established be-
tween the state and the railroad corporation by
reason of its original charter. —In the Dartmouth
College case it was decided, in 1819, by the supreme
court of the United States, that, by the legislative
charter to a private corporation, a contract relation
was created, which, under the clause prohibiting
the states from impairing the obligation of con-
tracts, forbade the state from thereafter passing
laws substantially changing property rights of such
corporation. The various states of the Union took
alarm at the possible consequences of that decision,
and, either by general laws or by constitutional
amendment, provided that the legislature shall, at
all times, be at liberty to alter, amend or repeal the
rights or privileges conferred upon corporations.—
The state of New York, after having had for many
years a provision to that effect upon its statute
books, embodied, in 1846, such a provision in its
constitution; and the western states, on their or-
ganization, followed substantially the provision of
the constitution of New York. In obedience to a
strong public sentiment, which made itself felt
during 1871–4, throughout the western territory,
the legislatures of Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois, Ohio,
Missouri, Minnesota and Michigan, passed laws,
known as granger laws, by which railway com-
missioners were appointed, railway tariffs sought
to be regulated, preferences forbidden, and rail-
ways required to carry for the inhabitants of a
locality freight at a rate somewhat proportionate
to that which they established for through traffic.
— This legislation was violently attacked in the
courts by the railways themselves, and the bond-
holders of the railways also called it in question
on the ground that such legislation impaired the
obligation of their contract, because, though it
left the rails and the cars, it substantially took
away the profit of operating, and thus, in disre-
gard of the constitutional provision that no private
property shall, without compensation, be taken
for public purposes, deprived them of property
without compensation. These cases came before
the supreme court of the United States in 1876,
in the test cases of Munn vs. Illinois, and Peake
os. The Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railroad.
This controversy was disposed of by the supreme
court of the United States adversely to the claim
of the railroads and of the bondholders, by up-
holding the validity and right of all such state
legislation. — Panic legislation of this character
was, of course, faulty. It proceeded from an in-
sufficient examination of the whole subject. It
was, in fact, treating the symptom instead of the
disease. Notwithstanding the complete vindica-
tion, by the supreme court of the United States,
of the right of the states to enact legislation laying
down tariff rates for railways, whether remuner-
ative or not, the majority of the states which had
enacted such legislation receded from their orig-
inal position and modified their tariff rates; many
abrogated them, and contented themselves with
the establishment of railroad commissions for
the purpose of investigation and examination of
grievances, and to report thereon to the legisla-
tures, but left on the statute books, however, pro-
hibitions against preferences, and forbade the rail-
ways from destroying the commerce and trade of
a locality by rival contests for through traffic. —
In some of the eastern states, notably in Massa-
chusetts, a different course was pursued. In that
state an excellent board of railroad commissioners.
was appointed by the act of the legislature of 1869,
composed of Charles Francis Adams, Jr., James.
C. Converse and Edward Appleton. The duty of
these commissioners was to inspect the railway
system of the state, and to inquire into accidents.
and the system of management, as well as the
general question of railroad development, and the
relation of the community to its railroad corpora-
tion. To entertain complaints of individuals or
localities against discriminations or unjust treat-
ment, and to report thereon, was also made part of
their duties. Authority was also given them to hold
public sessions, and to make report of their con-
clusions to the legislature. They had no judicial
powers, but were constituted a general board for
public investigation of railway management, thus
to draw public attention to, and to bring to bear
public opinion upon, the subject. To concentrate
responsibility, to sift information, and to advise
the legislature, also appertained to their functions.
They were subsequently empowered to prescribe
and enforce, and they did prescribe and enforce,
a uniform system of accounts. – This board has
been in successful operation since its Organization;
and has been of great benefit to the commonwealth
which appointed it, and of great Service as an
example, beneficially imitated by other states, of
one of the most conservative modes of dealing
with railroad corporations. – Mr. Charles Francis
Adams, Jr., the chairman of this Commission, in
an argument before a committee of the federal
congress in 1880, in speaking of railroad manage-
ment and its relation to the public, says: “I must
ask you to dismiss all preconceptions from your
minds, and to fairly consider what is the real cause
RAILWAYS.
517
of the inequality, the injustice, the discrimina-
tions of the existing railroad service, those ills of
the body politic for which you are now under-
taking to prescribe. I will not stop to dwell upon
them or to denounce them. It is not necessary to
do so, for I hold them to be proven and their ex-
istence notorious. The record is full of evidence
on the subject. We all know, every one knows,
that discriminations in railroad treatment and
charges do exist between individuals and between
places. We all know that railroad tariffs fluctuate
wildly, not only in different years, but in different
Seasons of the same year. We know that certain
large business firms, the leviathans of modern
trade, can and do dictate their own terms between
rival corporations, while the small concern must
accept the best terms it can get. It is beyond dis-
pute that business is carried hither and thither—
to this point, away from that point, and through
the other point—not because it would naturally go
to, away from or through those points, but because
the rates are made on an artificial basis to serve
ulterior ends. In regard to these things I consider
the existing system nearly as bad as any system
can be. Studying its operations as I have, long
and patiently, I am ready to repeat now what I
have repeatedly said before, that the most surpris-
ing thing about it to me is, that the business com-
munity sustains itself under such conditions. The
first principles of law governing common carriers
are habitually violated. Special contracts cover-
ing long periods of time are made every day with
heavy shippers, under which the common carrier,
whose first duty it is to serve all equally, gives to
certain parties a practical control of the markets.
There is thus neither equality nor system, law nor
equity, in the matter of railroad charges. A com-
plete change in this respect is a condition prece-
ident to any just and equitable system of railroad
transportation.” – Coming as they do from a gen-
tleman of high authority, who for ten years held
the position of chairman of the railroad commis-
ision of the state of Massachusetts, and who at the
time when he spoke had held for one year the
position of arbitrator, selected by the great trunk
lines to settle disputes and differences between
them as one of a court of three arbitrators volun-
tarily constituted, these words are more cogent,
and are to be assumed as a more correct represen-
tation of existing conditions resulting from the
development of the railroad system of the United
States, than any speech, either of granger suffer-
ing from his particular grievance, or of railway
president anxious to retain his hold upon a monop-
oly interest. — The attempt to enforce upon the
railways of the state of Massachusetts the adop-
tion of a system of accounts prepared by a set of
“theorists,” was vehemently opposed by the rail-
way corporations, who called it an infringement
of their chartered rights, which would prove a
mere appliance for exacting blackmail, and expose
details of management concerning which the pub-
lic had no interest. The commissioners, on the
other hand, insisted that the community had an
interest in its railroad lines, and that an adminis-
tration which was a mere hot-bed of abuses should
be thereafter managed in full public view. To
the new system of accounts prescribed, the rail-
ways quickly accommodated themselves, and,
much to their surprise, they experienced no evil
result from their rendering of accounts intelligible
to public bodies and to the public at large, but
rather found great benefit flow therefrom. — The
recent instances of the failure of the Eastern rail-
road company, the sudden collapse of the New
Jersey Central and of the Reading railroads, show
how utterly unable was the public to form, from
the published accounts in annual reports, any
adequate conception of the condition of railroad
property. In each of these cases the annual re-
port preceding the insolvency claimed the roads
to be financially in flourishing condition. Against
such abuses as these, the system of uniform ac-
counts and thorough investigation seems to be a
specific. On this subject and its success, the
Massachusetts commissioners, in their report for
1879, draw a very correct line of distinction. In
speaking of the spirit which called forth an inves-
tigating board such as the Massachusetts commis-
sioners, and that which prescribed a hard and fast
tariff of rates for railway companies such as
granger legislation attempted, they say: “After a
careful investigation, which extended through a
year, and the conclusions of which are to be found
in its earlier reports, this board wholly rejected
the idea of attempting to regulate railroads in this
country, at least through direct legislative inter-
vention. It was said that such an attempt would
result only in failure, or perhaps generate new
and dangerous abuses of its own. The board, on
the contrary, maintained that every desired result
or needed reform could be secured by simply de-
veloping in the public mind the idea of corporate
responsibility, and supplying the necessary ma-
chinery to act directly upon it. To bring this
about, it was necessary to force the corporate pro-
ceedings into the full light of publicity, and to
compel those responsible for railroad management,
whenever an abuse was alleged, to submit to in-
vestigation, and to try to show that the abuse did
not exist. Failing to do this, their only alterna-
tive was to discontinue its practice or to persist
in it in open defiance of public opinion. This is
the theory of railroad regulation now known as
the commissioners’ system, in contradistinction to
the granger system. The public supervision of
the accounts of the railroad corporations is an
essential feature in the successful development of
this theory. If that can be established, it will
certainly lead to the gradual abandonment of the
granger system in favor of a supervisory system.
The commissioners believe that it has been estab-
lished in the practical experience of the Massa-
chusetts railroads in the last two years, and they
further believe and say that the system works
well.” (Massachusetts Railroad Commissioners'
Report, 1879, pp. 29, 30.) — In New York state
the board of trade and transportation, a body
518
RAILWAYS.
originally organized under the title of “The
Cheap Transportation Association,” set itself the
task, in 1873, of bringing the railway corporations
of the state of New York to public amenability.
From 1850, down to that period, no serious
attempt had been made in that state to create in
railroad management any sense of public respon-
sibility. The reports which the various railroad
corporations of the state were required to file with
the state surveyor and engineer, were almost whol-
ly meaningless. No balance sheet accompanied
the reports, and the railroad corporations, in con-
forming with the letter of the law, vied with each
other in giving as little information as possible.
The state surveyor had neither power nor desire
to make any independent investigation. He sim-
ply published from year to year such information
as the railway corporations saw fit to give him.
No penalty, which had the slightest deterring
influence, was imposed for giving insufficient or
even false information. The state law forbade
parallel lines from being leased to each other.
Nevertheless, railroad corporations, by purchasing
the majority of the stock of the parallel lines,
ran them in the interest of their main railroads.
— In 1868 a consolidation took place between
the New York Central railroad and the Hudson
River railroad, by which they subsequently be-
came one line. On the consummation of the
consolidation new stock was issued, substantially
doubling the capital, or, in other words, watering
the stock, of both lines. This watering of stock
was promptly legalized by the legislature of the
following year, which conferred authority for
exchanging the certificates into shares of stock.
Thus, these roads in their new capitalization neu-
tralized all the advantages that they had of easier
gradient and no mountains to pass over, which
had given to New York state cheaper railway
construction than to Pennsylvania and Maryland.
Although during the summer months, when canal
competition is active, or under circumstances when
the competition for through traffic with other
roads creates a strife, capitalization is of little or
no consequence, yet, on the local traffic, capitali-
zation produces the result of compelling the local
shipper to pay such a rate as to make it possible
for the proprietors of the road to pay dividends
on their stock. By the general railroad laws of
the state of New York it is provided, that when
the dividends of any railroad corporation shall
reach 10 per cent., the state can declare how
the surplus above the 10 per cent. shall be applied.
This provision, however, was made quite nugatory
by the trick of stock watering. It is clear, if
with each increased valuation of the road the pro-
prietors can declare stock dividends not repre-
senting construction account, that a dividend of
10 per cent. on stock will never be declared, al-
though in point of fact the railway may be earn-
ing 20 or 30 per cent. upon its actual cost of con-
struction. — This bold stroke of financial policy,
which laid the foundation for the colossal wealth
of the Vanderbilts, drew attention to this evil,
and gave to the cheap transportation association:
(subsequently the board of trade and transporta-
tion) an excellent ground for agitating the subject
of railroad abuses. To this agitation considerable
vigor was imparted about this time by the dis-
crimination then practiced against the interest of
the commerce of New York, whereby the railroad
corporations chartered by the state of New York
made more favorable rates to Baltimore, Philadel-
phia and Boston in their charges for all west-
bound as well as east-bound freight, than to New
York. — One of the periodical treaties of peace
after a railroad war of great intensity gave to
Philadelphia an advantage of two cents a hun-
dred on freight rates from the west, to Baltimore
four cents a hundred, and to Boston the same
rate as was given to New York, on the lowest
class of freight. On the western-bound freight
the discrimination against New York in favor of
Philadelphia and Baltimore amounted to from
seven to ten cents a hundred on the different
classifications of freight. This difference in rates
was made on the theory that Philadelphia and
Baltimore were relatively nearer to the western
centres than New York. Boston, however, which
was farther away by two hundred miles than
New York, was given the same rate. On east-
bound freight the theory upon which the dis-
criminations were made against New York was,
that the ship charters from and to New York were
lower as compared with the other seaboard cities.
This, however, on examination, proved untrue.
Upon this state of affairs being made apparent, the
chamber of commeree, as well as the board of
trade and transportation, took up the question of
railroad discriminations, and in a report published.
by the chamber of commerce in 1878, it appeared
that during a considerable part of January of that
year, the rates over the New York Central, the
Erie and the Grand Trunk roads, were from Boston
to Chicago from thirty-five to forty cents a hun-
dred. From Boston to Chicago salt was shipped
at fifteen cents, while forty-five cents was the
lowest rate from New York. From Philadelphia
to Chicago the rates during the same dates were
made as low as seventy cents on first-class goods,
while during the same period the rates were main-
tained at a dollar from New York to Chicago.
The lower classes were relatively as high. The
committee reported that goods stored in New York
were shipped to Boston to be forwarded to the
west through New York over the Erie road, or
via the Boston & Albany over the New York Cen-
tral road, at a saving of almost 50 per cent. Over
direct shipments from New York. Through
freights from Liverpool to Chicago, fourth class,
were as low as twenty to twenty-five shillings per
ton, while the rates remained from Liverpool to
New York forty to forty-five cents per hundred
pounds, equivalent to about thirty shillings per
ton. These facts were brought to the attention of
the railway presidents, and their aid was solicited
to remove the discriminations against New York.
They made a contemptuous answer, Mr. Wander-
RAILWAYS.
519
bilt more especially drawing attention to the facil-
ities offered by other cities to their railroad cor-
porations, and claiming that the New York Cen-
tral had not the same facilities offered to it by the
municipal government, and that the merchants
should use their influence upon the municipality
to extend the facilities afforded the railway cor-
porations in like manner as facilities were ex-
tended to the Pennsylvania railroad by Philadel-
phia, and to the Baltimore & Ohio railroad by Bal-
timore. A commissioners’ bill, which had been
drawn, was, for four successive years, submitted
to the legislative committees of the state of New
York for action, but in almost every instance it
had either been reported upon adversely, or, if
reported favorably, had, through the influence of
the railway companies, been smothered in one or
the other of the houses. – Finding redress impos-
sible through the voluntary action of the corpo-
rations themselves, the chamber of commerce,
through its committee on transportation, there-
fore determined to lend its aid to procure the
establishment of a railroad commission for the
state of New York. — Besides the grievances be-
fore referred to, another, of an extremely burden-
some character, which affected the people of the
state at large, also existed at that time. Between
1875 and 1877 the great railway corporations en-
tered into an active railroad war, and in conse-
quence of the resulting freight rates, cereal prod-
ucts and flour were frequently carried by the com-
panies at a loss from the west to the seaboard.
That loss might possibly have financially ruined
the railway corporations of the state had a corre-
sponding reduction been made in their local tariff;
but to recoup this loss on through rates, they main-
tained, as to the local shipper, rates which under
such circumstances became extortionate ; thus
making the people of the state bear the burden,
through the exactions of the local tariff, of the
trunk line war, in the same manner as though the
state were at war and levied a tax upon its inhab-
itants to maintain it. This discrepancy between
through and local tariffs led to the practical aban-
donment of milling at the great flouring centres of
the state of New York, such as Rochester and
Black Rock. It was impossible for them to main-
tain competition against the Minneapolis miller
who had his cereals produced at his door and had
the flour carried to New York at twenty cents a
hundred, when they were compelled to pay more
than that for the mere carriage of the wheat to
their mills, and a higher absolute rate for the car-
riage of the product of their mills to the seaboard.
— The grazing and cattle interest of the western
part of the state suffered in consequence of the
low rates of carriage from the western country of
cattle on the hoof, and a destruction of interests
took place to such an extent that grazing and cat-
tle raising became a non-remunerative occupation
solely by reason of discriminating freight rates
against the western part of the state. These sub-
jects were taken up and agitated by the state
grange Organizations and the farmers’ alliance,
who joined hands with the chamber of commerce
and board of trade and transportation in insisting
upon some remedial measure against such discrimi-
nations. – Another abuse, which, however, was
carried to its extreme limit by the New York Cen-
tral railroad company, gave additional ground for
complaint. This abuse was the entire abandon-
ment of any fixed schedule of tariff rates for local
traffic. There was a tariff of rates which existed
only for the unwary shipper who made his ship-
ment on the assumption that all shippers were
treated alike, and he was punished for his want of
knowledge by being compelled to pay extortionate
rates. A special rate, which was entirely personal
to the particular shipper, was made almost invari-
ably, on application, by the freight manager of the
New York Central railroad exercising his discre-
tion to make it as he saw fit. At the time when a
legislative investigation was ordered, there were in
existence on the line of the New York Central rail-
road upward of 6,000 different contracts varying
in the most arbitrary manner the published sched-
ule rate for the carriage of local freights. Under-
lying these special rates there was neither prin-
ciple based upon car loads or train loads as con-
tradistinguished from single packages, nor upon
extent of business or readiness of handling, nor
any other well-known basis of railway manage-
ment. They were granted as the caprice, the
whim or the interest of the railway freight agent
dictated at the hour. The charge that such dis-
criminations and special rates existed, when made
to the legislative committee appointed in 1879,
was at first flatly denied, but within the first few
days of the investigation which followed, and to
which reference will presently be made, it was
overwhelmingly proved. — Public opinion had be-
come so agitated upon the subject that at last all
the opposing influences of the railways in the as-
sembly were overcome. An investigation of the
railway system of the state of New York was or-
dered by the legislature of 1879, and a committee
appointed to investigate the abuses alleged to
exist in the management of the railroads of the
state of New York. This committee was com-
posed of A. B. Hepburn as chairman, H. L.
Duguid, James Low, William L. Noyes, James
W. Wadsworth, Charles S. Baker, J. W. Husted,
and Thomas F. Grady. The committee invited
the chamber of commerce and board of trade and
transportation, which had made the charges upon
the basis of which the committee was acting, to
appoint counsel to conduct the examination, and
stated that the committee would give to such coun-
sel standing before it by substantially adopting
him as the counsel of the committee. Under this
invitation the chamber of commerce and the board
of trade and transportation appointed the writer
of this article as its counsel to conduct the inves-
tigation, and then during a period of eight months
the investigation proceeded in the taking of testi-
mony and the preparation of its report. – Prior
to the appointment of this committee a great
change had taken place in the management of the
B20
RAILWAYS.
great trunk lines in their relation to the public.
Mr. Fink—who had been the vice-president of the
Louisville & Nashville railroad, and who was
commissioner or chairman of the committee of
the Southern railway and steamship association,
which was comprised of twenty-five railroads, and
who by a pooling arrangement of freights in the
organization of that association had substantially
stopped railroad wars and competition among
them, and the success of whose management had
drawn attention to his executive ability—was in-
vited by the railroad magnates of the east to or-
ganize, upon the plan of the Southern railway and
steamship association, an organization to keep the
peace and maintain rates for the trunk lines Cen-
tring at New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Balti-
more. Down to that period of time every attempt
to create a “joint purse,” as it is called in Eng-
land, or a “pool,” as it is termed in the United
States, by which, to prevent railway wars, the
proceeds of freight charges were divided between
the railway companies, had proved fruitless.
Scarcely was the ink dry on the contract made
between the railway presidents before each par-
ticular railway company attempted, in one way
or another, to break away from the contract thus
made. So little under control were some of the
freight agents, that even if the railway presidents
desired to maintain the contract in its integrity,
they found it impossible to control the various
freight lines doing business over their own roads,
and the contracts were broken almost as SOon
as made. Thereupon, in June, 1877, Mr. Fink
was appointed commissioner of the four trunk
lines, the Baltimore & Ohio, the Pennsylvania,
the Erie, and the New York Central & Hudson
River railroads. In December, 1878, he was fur-
ther appointed commissioner of the combined
trunk lines of the western roads. A contract was
made, by which, in addition to the agreement as
to regular tariffs, each railroad corporation agreed
to accept a certain percentage of all the freight
that was offered, and to send to the other lines
which had a deficiency whatever surplus was of-
fered to it, in consideration of which it was like-
wise to receive from the other line its own defi-
ciency. Substantially it was then agreed as to
west-bound freight, and subsequently as to east-
bound freight, that the roads were to be operated
with reference to traffic as though they were one
corporation, and Mr. Fink, as a commissioner,
was to see to it that this arrangement was faith-
fully carried out. He had supplied him a large
staff of clerks to make these equalizations from
time to time. A further development of this
principle was the appointment of arbitrators,
three in number, to determine disputed questions.
The system has certainly resulted, first, in main-
taining rates, and secondly, in stopping railroad
wars between the contracting parties. A railroad
war, while, on the one hand, it reduces rates, pro-
duces, on the other hand, great demoralization
in business by the element of uncertainty in com-
mercial transactions caused by the absence of a
certain rate, vastly more expensive in its ultimate
results than the higher rate for freight. — The all
but unanimous report of the investigating com-
mittee appointed in 1879 was made after an ex-
haustive inquiry, contained in five closely printed
volumes of testimony. This committee, in sum-
ming up the condition of railroad management as
they found it in the state of New York, pass in
review the various abuses which have grown up
under the management of these great highways
by private corporations without responsibility to
the state. They refer to the evil of the drawing
room or sleeping car companies, which, by their
contracts with the railroad companies, create a
special interest that diminishes the return of the
shareholders of the railroad companies. They
speak of the fast freight lines and express com-
panies as now conducted as free from evil. They
condemn the methods by which the stock yards
at the terminal points of the railways are let out
to individuals, and speak of this as an instru-
mentality which is usually attended with addi-
tional taxes upon transportation. They consider
the suborganizations of railways in the way of coal
companies and elevator associations, which are
designated as barnacles upon commerce, as organ-
ized for the purpose of tolling the commerce of
that port (Buffalo) to the greatest possible extent.
On alluding to watered stock the committee refers
to the fact that it was proved before them, that
$40,000,000 was probably the whole value of the
property and equipment of the Erie Railway
company, and that $25,000,000 more would cov-
er all the additional value of the road, as repre-
sented by stock and bonds and interests in other
corporations, while it was capitalized at about
$155,000,000; that its construction account cov-
ered in 1873 an item of “legal expenses” of
$891,000; and that the watering of the stock of
the Erie railway, as well as its bonds, is estimated
by them to be not less than $70,000,000. They
proceeded to examine the accounts of the New
York Central railway. They found that in 1853
the stocks and bonds of the roads which at that
time formed the various links of the chain of con-
solidation thus effected, amounted to a total of
$23,000,000, and that at the time when the first
consolidation was effected, premiums, or, in other
words, water, to the extent of almost $9,000,000,
were given to the stockholders and shareholders
of these various roads. From 1868 to 1870, by the
Consolidation of the New York Central and Hud-
son River railroads, over $44,000,000 was added to
the combined capital of both the Hudson River
and the New York Central roads, by stock divi-
dends of 80 per cent. on the New York Central
road in 1868, and 85 per cent on the Hudson
River road. — The committee pass in review local
questions, which it is not necessary to enter into
here, on the subject of the terminal facilities and
the injustice done by the discriminations against
New York by the arrangement of discriminating
rates, and then they touch upon the abuse fully
developed before them, connected with the Stand-
RAILWAYS.
521
ard oil company. —It appeared by the testimony
submitted, that on Jan. 8, 1872, the Central, Erie,
Lake Shore and Pennsylvania roads made an
agreement with the South improvement company,
a Pennsylvania corporation, giving to the improve-
ment company, on shipment of oil to different
points, rebates ranging from forty cents to $3.07
a barrel. The agreement provided that its object
was to maintain the business of the South im-
provement company against loss or injury by
competition, and that the roads would lower or
raise the gross rate of transportation over their re-
spective railways and connections, to such an ex-
tent as might be necessary to overcome all com-
petition. — When the agreement became public,
the legislature of Pennsylvania was compelled by
public opinion to vacate the charter of the corpo-
ration. A more ingenious and secret agreement,
however, was subsequently made with the Stand-
ard oil company, by the railroad corporations, se-
curing to that corporation the objects which were
intended to be secured to the South improvement
company. This company, originally composed
of a few enterprising oil men of the western
states, gradually absorbed into its management
the Standard oil company of Cleveland, the Stand-
ard oil company of Pittsburg, the Acme oil com-
pany of New York, the Imperial oil company of
Oil City, the Atlantic refining company of Phila-
delphia, Charles Pratt & Co. of New York, the
Devoe manufacturing company of New York, J.
A. Bostwick & Co., and Messrs. Rockfeller, Day,
Flagler, Warden, Frew & Co., and others. — This
combination against the remainder of the trade,
now banded together under the name of the
Standard oil company, is characterized by the
committee as a flagrant violation of every prin-
ciple of railroad economy and natural justice. It
resulted in driving out of business nearly all com-
petitors, and enabled the Standard oil company to
purchase, at such rates as they saw fit, the refiner-
ies distributed over the United States which they
desired to control either for the purposes of man-
ufacturing or to dismantle. This threw the pro-
duction, distribution and refining of oil into the
hands of a single corporation, to the extent, esti-
mated at that time, of 95 per cent. of the whole
product. In this regard the committee say, that
from January to October, 1879, the total shipments
from the oil regions to all points were 12,900,240
barrels, and that all shipments to the seaboard
would have easily borne one dollar more per bar-
rel than they did (the rate then being about twenty-
five cents a barrel); that, tested by the charge
which the roads imposed upon every other com-
modity, it should have borne that much more;
and that all the trunk lines have grown into such
relations with this oil company that they were
forced to forego all these millions they might have
earned, and compelled to look to the other prod-
ucts of the country for their revenues; thus
burying their own interest in the interest of the
Standard oil company, and joining in this war of
rates to protect the latter against injury by com-
petition. — The attention of the committee had
been drawn to the evils connected with the proxy
system, by which railways were captured by the
mere purchase of voting power from persons,
mainly bankers, in whose names large amounts of
stock were registered, but which had been sold
and distributed to their customers, and were left
on the stock books of the companies, standing in
their names, simply for prudential reasons. This
situation gave to such persons a large voting
power in the railway without a substantial inter-
est or stake in the result of the vote. To persons
who desired to capture the road, it was a strong
temptation to purchase such voting power; and,
to persons who had no permanent interest in the
road, it was a corresponding temptation to sell the
power, the evil effects of which sale they were
not called upon personally to bear. The commit-
tee, therefore, recommended the passage of a bill
to remedy this abuse. — The committee likewise
condemned the system of the reports to the state
engineer and surveyor, and then passed under
review the system of special rates, which was
founded upon no other basis than the arbitrary
will of the freight agent in giving individual ship-
pers, located in the same town, rates varying as
much as thirty cents a hundred. The committee
investigated the theory that had been advanced by
all the railroad experts of “charging a traffic what
it will bear.” Of this they said, that, “as to an
increase of from fifteen cents in August to forty
cents in November on grain, the rate was raised
simply because the condition of the market war-
ranted it, and the product could bear it. It would
be difficult to make a criticism upon that raise
which public judgment would sustain, but we are
distinctly told that public interest plays an insig-
nificant rôle in the theatre of railroad manage-
ment. It is at best but a service waiting upon
the interest of the stockholders. The wrong con-
sists in exercising a censorship over the business
affairs of the community; secretly, arbitrarily
and unequally varying rates, building up this,
developing that; not only performing the proper
functions of transportation, but taking into con-
sideration the probable or possible profit of a
shipment, and adjusting their rates accordingly.
If the shipper is likely to make a large profit,
they compel him to divide; if the margin is a
close one, they determine whether the shipment
shall be made or not, whether it shall result in
a profit or loss. Thus, under this system of
management and this method of giving rates, is
every merchant, every manufacturer, every ship-
per, and, through them, every individual along
the 5,500 miles of railroad in this state, with its
five hundred millions of capital, measurably in the
power of these corporations. Conciliate their good
will, court their favor, and favorable rates will fol-
low ; incur their hostility, and the margin of their
displeasure may be read on your freight bills.” —
The committee speak of the enormous political
influence which is wielded by corporations having
in their employ, in 1879, upward of 30,000 voters.
522
RAILWAYS.
They speak also of the contemptuous disregard
exhibited by the railroad corporations of the state
to the milling interest, in April, 1879, when they
answered a temperate statement of grievances
by saying, “that the first condition of having
them listened to was to retract their signatures from
a certain circular, dated March 15, 1879,” in which
these grievances were stated in moderate terms,
and “to withdraw their support from a pro rata.
freight bill, which was then before the assembly.”
— The committee conclude their analysis of the
testimony with the citation of the Shoelkopf &
Matthews agreement, whereby the New York
Central railroad bound itself to carry to New
York, for these millers situated at Niagara Falls,
at a pro rate of the through east-bound rate on
grain or flour, whatever it may be, which enabled
these millers to maintain their mill in full opera-
tion while their neighbors were going out of busi-
ness simply because they had not as ſavorable a
contract. The contract appeared to have been
made for five years, and was to be valid on con-
dition that it was to be kept secret. Personal
discrimination could no farther go than was illus-
trated in that case. — This investigation proved
conclusively that every charge that had been made
against the railway corporations by the commer-
cial bodies of the state was under-stated rather
than over-stated ; that these great trusts had fallen
into the hands of persons who exploited them for
their personal benefit solely ; that the public was
only in so far regarded as any tyrant would re-
gard the public ; that it was dangerous to exas-
perate them too much ; and that as freight charges
are in the nature of taxes, if you want a continu-
ous revenue from taxation, it must stop short of
confiscation. — The recommendations of the com-
mittee, therefore, were embodied in bills which
embraced, in substance, the commission bill which,
with some slight modifications, had been pre-
viously drafted at the request of the board of
trade and transportation ; a bill upon the subject
of railway proxies, railway consolidations and
stock waterings; a bill to regulate the transporta-
tion of freight by the railroad corporations, so as
to prevent unjust discriminations; and a bill to
insure a uniform system of accounts and a differ-
ent system of reports. – Of these bills, the one
to create a board of commissioners became law ;
likewise the one, with considerable modification
and amendment, upon the subject of proxy vot-
Ing; also the one which prescribed a different
method of rendering accounts. The other bills
failed of adoption. — During this period, the
valuable reports on internal commerce, issued by
Mr. Joseph Nimmo, chief of United States bu-
reau of statistics, aided considerably in creating an
enlightened public opinion on the relations of the
railways to the state, and the part that they per-
form in the movement of the commerce and de-
velopment of the industry of the nation. — The
New York commission bill was passed, and Gov.
Cleveland, as one of his first acts after his install-
ment into office, appointed Messrs. Kerman, O’Don-
nell and Rogers commissioners. The bill author-
ized the chamber of commerce, the board of trade
and transportation, and the anti-monopoly league,
to nominate one of the commissioners to the gov-
ernor; and Mr. O'Donnell was so nominated by
two of the three bodies, and the governor, under
the bill, made the appointment. — By the estab-
lishment of this commission, the long struggle
between the railways of the state of New York
and the people was brought to a close, favorably
to the people. A body was now interposed, with
power somewhat similar to that of the Massachu-
setts commission, between the people and the
powerful railway corporations, clothed with au-
thority for searching and continuous investigation
and, in all probability, that body will prove to be
a permanent one. The sense of responsibility in
the performance of the task, together with the
natural aptitude of intelligent men to grow to the
work they have in hand, will, in time, make this.
commission a valuable aid to proper legislation.
The important interests constantly connected with
the subject committed to their care, will cause
the work of the commission to be carefully
watched, and the strong temptations that are
placed in the way of these commissioners, in con-
sequence of the enormous wealth and power of
one of the parties constantly before it, will in-
evitably cause the commission to act with pru-
dence, for the purpose of shielding themselves
against suspicion. — During the same years, other
states had parallel experiences with struggles for
the appointment of railroad commissioners. There
are now in existence fourteen railroad commis-
sions in the various states of the Union, whose
business it is to supervise and investigate, if not.
control, the railroad corporations within the state;
to report such amendatory laws as in their opin-
ion are necessary for the purpose of correcting
the abuses incident to railroad management; and
to cause actions to be instituted to prevent either
violations of charter limitations or violations of
the rights of shippers or passengers, which may
be brought to their notice. — During the last
five years, efforts were made in the United States
congress to create a board of railroad commis-
sioners for the United States, to exercise over
all the railway corporations doing an interstate
business the same kind of supervision and con-
trol as is exercised by the various state com-
missions over corporations chartered by the sev-
eral states. Almost part passu with this at-
tempted reform, an annual effort is made in
congress to regulate interstate commerce, with-
out the intervention of a commission, in the pas-
sage of a freight bill, in the nature of a pro rata
bill, containing anti-discrimination clauses. Thus
far, the advocates of the two measures have op-
posed each other, and no good results will prob-
ably be accomplished until the friends of federal
legislation agree upon a commission bill, as the
entering wedge to such legislation as should
properly be passed by the United States, for the
purpose of making this enormous interest, in the
RAILWAYS.
523,
aggregate more powerful than any single state
organization, amenable to the better concentrated
public power, as represented in the United States
congress. The railroad corporations, organized
by the states, have thus far resisted, at every step,
every attempt to make them amenable to federal
legislation. Although many of these corporations
derive their charter powers from several states,
and substantially run cars over the territory of
half the Union, they nevertheless insist that they
are amenable only to such states as have granted
them their charter privileges, and that the United
States congress can not properly exercise any con-
trol over them. The necessity of the case, as well
as Sound logic, fights against their cause; and the
time is not far distant when all the people of the
United States, as represented in the general gov-
ernment, must take in hand the railway corpora-
tions of the United States, concentrated as they
now are in power by becoming more and more un-
der the control of a few leading minds, who can be
gathered together in a single room of a private
gentleman’s house, and, for weal or for woe, can,
and do, more materially affect the welfare of the
people of the United States than can any repre-
sentative body which has been organized in any of
the states of the Union, or under the federal Con-
stitution. It is, therefore, not a figure of speech
to say that an imperium in imperio has grown up
in the community, which, by combination and
concentration of power, is more powerful than
the Community, and that the question of making
it amenable to the general powers of the govern-
ment is no longer one of expediency, but one of
prime necessity. — This brings us to a considera-
tion of some of the general questions, which are
as yet unsolved problems, with reference to the
government of railways, either by the state or by
private management. — The general result of in-
vestigation upon the question of railways within
the past fifteen years, in the United States, and
the development that has taken place, both in rail-
way construction and in many of the evils inci-
dent to railway administration, have modified both
public opinion and the opinion of experts who are
not blinded by personal interest, on the subject
of the extent to which competition is a regulator
of the price of service in railway transportation.
It went hard for the free trader to surrender his
faith in competition, and to admit that it is not a
universally applicable principle. It has now been
ascertained that, notwithstanding the enormous
progress of railway construction in the United
States within the past thirty years, railways can
never be multiplied to such an extent as to make
them compete in the same sense that grocers,
butchers, hatters and shoemakers compete. They
will be at war for a time, and then comes a long
period of peace, when the railways work under
combination even at competitive points. It is
difficult to tell whether the war is not more injuri-
ous than the peace, so far as public interests are
concerned. When there is competition between
rival hatters, customers are treated alike at one or
the other shop in the purchase of the commodity
they want, and even if they were not so treated,
no great harm would be done. A railway war
is generally carried on secretly for a considera-
ble period of time before open hostilities begin.
Railways, in vying with each other, seek to obtain
the more important customers from each other,
and make concessions to larger shippers, which
they are not ready to make to the smaller men.
This instantly gives to the larger shipper so great.
an advantage in addition to that which he already
has by reason of his greater capital over the
smaller man in the same line of trade, that the
smaller dealer does his business at a loss; he dis-
covers that his formidable rival can offer goods at
prices with which he can not compete, and he is.
frequently driven out of business or into bank-
ruptcy by reason of a secret advantage which his
stronger competitor has in transportation rates.
Thus monopoly breeds monopoly, and central-
ization of business is built up, not by greater
natural aptitude, but by injustice and wrong.
Even during periods of railway peace these
advantages are frequently got and maintained
by the more formidable shipper for the purpose
of tying him to a particular railway, with the
mischievous tendency to make the poor poorer
and the rich richer. This personal system of
tariffs produces absolutely the same effect as:
unequal taxation. As the beneficial results of
competition are not obtained by duplicating lines.
such additional routes are an evil rather than a.
good. The large expenditure of capital in creat-
ing the duplicate line might have been saved,
since but very few railway corporations in the
world have their road bed taxed to their maximum
capacity. The existence of the new line built
for competition is in reality an investment of
an enormous amount of capital to divide the traf-
fic which the existing line is perfectly compe-
tent to carry, and results in the traffic being done
at a very much greater expense for fixed charges
than if the existing road had added to its rolling
stock facilities and had been permitted alone to
accommodate such traffic. When peace is made,
rates are fixed so high as to afford a reasonable
expectation of a return upon a very large amount
of capital unnecessarily expended in the build-
ing of so-called rival lines. This has led to the
general conviction, that, for economizing capital
and producing, through these instrumentalities of
commerce and of trade, the maximum result for
the benefit of society, it would be better were we
to start de movo, and instead of dealing with exist-
ing conditions, to transfer to a corporation a defi-
nite field for its operations, under strict Supervis-
ion of its tariff rates, and to stipulate that the Cor-
poration shall not be interfered with as to the field
so long as it keeps down its rate to a certain per-
centage of profit. At almost every western point,
whether in Colorado, Utah or Arizona, we find
railway corporations just constructed, and who
operate upon their roads two or three trains a day
all included, threatened with rival enterprises,
524
RAILWAYS.
which propose to divide between them the little
traffic that there is, and to destroy the profitable-
ness of the capital investment in the original line,
so that in the end the business divided between
them, at extortionate rates, is not sufficient to pay
for Operating expenses and fixed charges on both
capitalizations.
to deal with this question de movo, as railway de-
velopment in the United States has proceeded to a
point to make assignments of fields almost impos-
sible of accomplishment through the instrumen-
tality of legislation. The railway companies them-
Selves are beginning to discuss the expediency, as
a matter of self-preservation, of coming to some
agreement as to fields between them. This, how-
ever, will be extremely difficult to accomplish by
voluntary action. However faithfully existing
railroad corporations adhere to an agreement not
to invade each other's field, the absence of legis-
lation holding the railway corporation to a strict
accountability as to charges within the field with
reference to which it by common consent thus
obtains a monopoly, makes such an agreement
one that the courts would probably declare void
as against public policy, and it would, in reality, in
the absence of such supervision and control, be a
conspiracy against the public. That the railway
corporations already discuss these questions, and
begin to regard the occupation of a field as a
right arising from the circumstances of the case
in favor of the particular railway occupying
it, is an indication that the railways themselves
have abandoned all pretense of competition in
the same sense in which that term is understood
in private enterprises. The practical consolida-
tions rapidly proceeding under the commissioner.
ships such as that of Fink's, will tend somewhat
toward the solution of this problem, because it
will enable the government to deal with these
corporations upon the basis of their dealing with
each other, and at Some day or another to prac-
tically appoint fields to conglomerate bodies of
railway corporations in following out the line
traced by their voluntary action. — One of the
peculiarities of railway competition is, that the
lunsuccessful competitor in a railway war, driven
to insolvency, unlike the unsuccessful competitor
in mercantile life who is driven into insolvency,
is not thereby driven out of the market. The
insolvent corporation becomes in many respects
a menace to the solvent corporation more for-
midable than it was in its solvent condition. It
begins, in railway parlance, to “run wild” after
its insolvency, being exonerated from paying inter-
est upon bonds, or dividends upon stock. Being
required to earn simply operating expenses, it
carries on a war of rates with a recklessness that
threatens to break the solvent corporation fighting
it into the same condition of insolvency. There-
fore, during the active railway war of 1875–7,
carried on between the New York Central, the
Erie, the Baltimore & Ohio and the Pennsylvania
railroads, the more favorably placed New York
Central railroad did not dare to carry the War to
£
But we are not now called upon
a point which would drive its adversaries into in-
Solvency, lest the insolvency of the Baltimore &
Ohio railroad, and possibly of the Pennsylvania
railroad, might threaten the solvency of the New
York Central. The motive and the facility for
combination are so great that combination will
almost invariably take the place of competition;
and railway managers and legislators must now
recognize as a fact that the railways are not, and
can not, without the interference of government,
be subjected, within any period of time about which
we need give ourselves any concern, to the law of
competition to that degree that we may look for
the same results as in other departments of human
activity, with any confident expectation of max-
imum results to Society at minimum expense. The
natural law of competition being inapplicable, the
question of governmental interference, therefore,
resolves itself simply into one of degree: how far
is it expedient to regulate railways by the public?
and that depends very much upon other questions
to which in this country we can not shut our eyes.
— As political machinery has, by a vicious party
system which by no means can find its complete
corrective in the rules of civil service reform, more
and more insidiously divested the people of self-
government within the past generation, we are
in a condition in which is presented the question
when we speak of governmental control, not
whether the railways shall manage themselves, or
the people, through the government, shall control
their management, but whether the railways,
banded together in organizations, having at their
head powerful, astute, intelligent and somewhat
unscrupulous men, shall, in affairs in which they
have a large interest and in which they must
pay to public welfare some regard, varying in
degree according to circumstances, manage those
important trusts, or whether the politicians, equal-
ly unscrupulous and astute, but not quite equal
in intelligence as banded together in party ma-
chinery, shall, in the interest of those political
organizations which represent even more remote-
ly the public interests than the railway direc-
tion represents them, manage those important
trusts for them. There are many important re-
forms, therefore, in our governmental machin-
ery which must proceed contemporaneously with
the transfer of power from the corporation man-
agement to public control before we can hope
for any great relief from public control as com-
pared with corporate management. It is, there-
fore, well to proceed slowly even in a proper
direction until the machinery of government in
the United States shall be emancipated more
from the bossism, political corruption and chi-
canery concomitant and attendant under exist-
ing representative and party conditions. It must
be admitted that the direction must be toward
governmental control, but this imposes upon the
people of the United States the duty of making
its governmental machinery fit to exercise such
control. Neither the state nor federal machinery
is as yet in that condition. — Another important
RAILWAYS.
525
question which must be taken in hand with refer-
ence to railway management, is to find some
proper basis for railway charges. The doctrine
which now prevails among railway managers, of
charging the traffic all that it will bear, the basis
upon which its classification as well as its tariff
rates depends, is monstrously unjust, and should
be radically changed. It is true that the respon-
sibility on the part of a corporation for the car-
riage of a case of silks is greater than it is when
it carries a bale of cotton. But the difference in
the rate charged is not based upon the slight
premium which would represent an indemnity
fund for the losses they might possibly incur by
the loss of the package, but the difference is based
really upon the supposed profit that the merchant
Or jobber makes on a case of silk as compared
with the bale of cotton, and that he can afford,
therefore, to divide with the railway the larger
amount in the general result. This makes this
service differ from that of any other rendered
under competition in society. What regulates
prices ordinarily is the cost of production, not
benefit to the consumer. The ounce of laudanum
that is intended to cure a toothache costs at the
store of the druggist the same sum as the lauda-
num which is to save a life. The use to which
the object is to be put, or the benefit conferred
upon the consumer, does not affect the price. It
is Said, in answer to this position, by the railway
manager, that he must regard his traffic as a
whole, and that, by reason of the greater value of
these first-class goods and the higher charge which
he can make on them, he is enabled to carry the
lowest price goods at a rate at which they can be
moved, and that, if he were precluded from
charging the higher rate on goods as readily
handled, but which are much more valuable in
money, he could not carry ores, coal or stone at
any such rate as would justify their transporta-
tion from place to place. There is force in this
position, but not to the extent to which it is
claimed, and in that respect intelligent investiga-
tion and careful governmental control will have
to strike a mean which will be more just than the
existing classifications, and so adjust the rates
both to consumer and producer as to enable all
classes of commodities to be moved without doing
injustice to the railway corporation. — The appli-
cation of the doctrine of charging what the traffic
will bear, substantially makes the railway cor-
poration a special partner, without investment of
capital, in every enterprise along its line. The
extent to which unscrupulous traffic managers
and agents can, for their private emolument, carry
this power of enforced copartnership, and that
this power is availed of, is exemplified in the fact
that on comparatively moderate salaries these traf-
fic managers very often do become men of great
fortunes, within a very few years. It is a power
to which modern Society has known no parallel
since the days of the farmers general of France,
who, in consideration of a sum total paid into the
French treasury during the corrupt regency of the
duke of Orleans, and the reign of Louis XV.,
obtained the privilege of having a section of
France farmed out to them to tax at their own
will. It is therefore absolutely essential with
reference to transportation lines, that without
thereby fixing absolute rates, severe penalties
shall by legislation be imposed for breach of the
public trust for personal ends, and also stringent
penalties imposed upon the making of discrimina-
tions between persons of the same locality. It is
likewise the duty of the public to see to it that
some unit, whether car load or train load, be es-
tablished, upon the basis of which all shippers
shall be treated alike, and to place the smaller
shipper upon some basis of equality with the
larger shipper. The smaller shipper should by
law be permitted to avail himself, in combination
with other people, of the car load unit. — Maxi-
mum charges have, in the experience of England,
been found to be almost universally useless. The
economies in railway traffic arising from steel
rails, improved roadbeds, better gradients, the
greater power of engines, reduced rates of fuel,
and through lines obviating breaking of bulk,
have been so great within the past fifteen years
that any fair rate at one period of time becomes
at any other period so excessive as to cease to be
a criterion. Maximum rates, therefore, when
fixed, must be so arranged as to be under the
supervision of some tribunal commanding public
confidence and authorized to exercise such super-
vision, and to be from time to time registered
upon a lower scale with reference to cost of traffic.
— A serious grievance in relation to American
railway administration arises from railway tariffs
being secret, and subject to sudden changes or
modifications. No tariff of transportation rates
should be permitted to be changed, except upon
previous notice of a considerable period of time.
Even the lowering of a tariff rate produces at
the outset as much financial and commercial dis-
turbance as the raising of it does. It is said that
the knowledge obtained by the officers of the
Standard Oil company in 1880, that the tariff
rates on oil would be suddenly increased by the
railroad corporations, gave to that combination
a profit of several millions of dollars. Whether
true or not, is immaterial. It is possible for special
favored private interests to be informed secretly
of an intended sudden.change of tariff on an im-
portant commodity. In consequence of that in-
formation, which necessarily changes the price of
that commodity at the point of delivery or at the
point of shipment, the making of a purchase or
a sale in advance, based upon that knowledge,
gives absolute certainty of a large profit, which is
so much wrested from those who do not know it.
This is an advantage which should not be permit-
ted to remain in the hands of railway administra-
tors to make use of, either for personal ends or for
the benefit of friends as they may see fit. A law,
therefore, providing with great stringency that all
tariffs shall be published for at least six months in
advance, and that no modifications thereof shall
526
RAILWAYS.
be permitted during that time, is a necessity to
avoid this mischief. Tariffs also should be pub-
lished at every station, with classifications, so that
every man doing business with the railway corpo-
ration should be permitted, at a glance, at every
station either of delivery or of receipt, to compare
his freight bills with the published tariff rates,
and see to it that he is fairly treated. Every de-
viation from the tariff to a favored shipper should
result in imposing upon the railway corporation
that allows such a deviation the payment, to every
other shipper, of a rebate based upon the lowest
shipment made. This penalty would be so severe
that there would be no longer any favored ship-
pers, and it is right that it should be so, because,
of all evils incident to American railway adminis-
tration, that of personal favoritism has been the
most shameless and the most mischievous. – An-
other problem presented by the existing condition
of the railways in the United States, is that which
arises from secrecy of management. This evil
must be dealt with radically. One of the prime
motives for secrecy of management is the enor-
mous advantage which at the present day it gives
to the managers in the maintenance of their pow-
er. They alone know where the stockholders are
to be found, and can therefore control votes by
the knowledge of how to reach or buy them, thus
perpetuating their control. Another motive is the
advantage thus afforded for stock speculations.
The board of managers, by keeping unto them-
selves the knowledge that their property is losing
heavily in comparative traffic, can sell their own
holdings and go short of the market, under cir-
cumstances which will yield them an absolute
certainty of profit on the transaction. This gives
them an enormous advantage over the community
by depleting the pockets of the unwary, who find
themselves saddled with stocks at high prices,
bought months in advance of the public announce-
ment that the road is in difficulties. The knowl-
edge of rapid gains in the development of busi-
ness likewise gives, so long as it can be kept secret,
a like advantage in purchase of stock. This ad-
vantage has been exploited to such a degree in the
United States that the investing public has become
inspired with a general distrust for railroad stock
investments. – In the states of the Union and in
the United States the existing condition of legis-
lation which gives the absolute control of corpo-
rate enterprises into the hands of majorities of
stock, and which gives to such stock equal weight,
lends itself to this species of management, and
places the stockholders’ interest, as well as the
public, at the mercy of this class of railway di-
rectors. The majority of the holders of record at
the time of the closing of the books of a corpora-
tion, have, at the annual election, the power to
elect the whole board of directors. As much of
the stock of great railway lines in the United
States is held abroad, and is not transferred on
the books to the actual owners of the property,
but remains registered in the names of the per-
sons who had long before parted with all interest
therein, there is, at the time of the closing of the
books in a great many of these railroad corpora-
tions, a large fictitious holdership, ranging from
one-half to one-eighth of the whole capital stock
holding interest, and this fictitious holding fre-
quently controls such election. Who are fictitious
and who are true holders are, as a general rule,
approximately known to the directors. The di-
rectors, therefore, can sell their real holdings at
high prices, and can purchase at low prices the
fictitious holdings or power to wield proxies, and
thus, for the purpose of depleting the road, cap-
ture the railway, in which neither they nor the
constituency that elected them, have a substantial
interest. This evil also can be remedied by legis-
lation. Severe penalties should be imposed upon
any one, having no interest in the corporation, of.
fering to vote, or voting, either personally or by
giving a proxy to vote, at any election of directors
of such corporation. — The severest blow, how-
ever, which could be dealt to corporate misman-
agement, would be the rigorous introduction of
minority representation in boards of direction,
which would make secrecy of management, as
against the interest of shareholders, substantially
impossible, and would prevent the possibility of
the recurrence of some of the worst abuses which
characterize their administration. Suppose twenty
directors were to be elected, the reform would con-
sist in allowing each section of one-twentieth of
the stockholding interest to elect one director, by
accumulating their votes upon a single name, or by
distributing their votes for one or more, as they
may see fit. This is the cumulative plan. An-
other is the preferential or list plan, in allowing
each twentieth part of the constituency to elect
one director, by preferences indicated on a ballot,
in the order of the names as printed. When the
first name has a quota sufficient to elect him,
Ż. e., one-twentieth of the votes cast, the ballot is
counted for the second name, and so forth. The
result of this system of minority representation
would be to make of the board of direction a re-
duced photograph of the whole constituent body,
and make it impossible to capture an organization
like a railway from the actual owners thereof. Any
one of the numerous plans suggested for securing
minority representation, if applied to corporate
management, would successfully accomplish that
result. The objection which has been urged to
the adoption of minority representation in public.
representative bodies, has no validity to corporate
elections, as in corporations neither localities nor
persons are supposed to be represented, but pecu.
niary interests only. It would better secure fair
representation than does the English system of
diminished value of votes in proportion to stock-
holders’ interests, i. e., one vote for every share up
to ten, an additional vote for every five others
beyond the first ten, and one vote for every ten
beyond one hundred shares; or the classification
plan, by which only a few directors of the whole
retire each year; minority representation would
give permanency in management, and prevent
RAILWAYS.
527
the swamping of the interests of the smaller
shareholders. — Pro rata tariffs are the refuge of
people of little thought on the subject of railway
management. It is fair that for the haul or for
the car load alone there should not be permitted a
higher rate for the shorter distance than for the
longer, as it is manifestly unjust artificially to
wholly wipe out and even to reverse the advan-
tages of proximity to the market; but to arrive at
anything like a just conclusion on this subject,
it will be necessary for the railways themselves, or
through legislation to be compelled, to make a
distinction in their freight rates between what
they charge for terminal handling and what they
charge for the haul. The terminal handling at
a great market is effected on so large a scale
that it can be done at very much lower rates for
each particular package than the terminal hand-
ling at a way station. The cars are more likely
to be filled than they are at way stations, so that
a perpetual difference must exist in favor of the
facilities of commerce which the great centres of
activity produce. This would be represented by
lower terminal charges for places like New York,
Buffalo and Chicago, than at the Small way sta-
tions or small hamlets along the line. And the
haul would be proportionately much less, and
justly so, from extreme points of concentration.
of freights to extreme points of market, because
the whole train loads would go unbroken straight-
through. On the other hand, it should not be
permitted to be so much less as to invert the situ-
lation, and to make the more distant point more
favorably situated to the seaboard than the nearer
point. — Pro rata freight rates disregard the laws
of commerce in that particular, and must there-
fore be receded from wherever introduced. On
the other hand, we must not be blind to the
justification which lies at the root of the demand
for pro rata rates, i. e., the unrighteousness of
inverting the natural situation, which is ordi-
marily done under the spur of a railroad war at
competitive points, under the effect of which the
intermediate localities, which are at the mercy of
the monopoly power of the railway, must suffer
the burden of the war. This can be remedied only
by legislation, but in that particular care must be
taken that the legislation shall not go too far, as
in doing so it defeats its own ends, because it be-
comes impracticable to work under it, and the re-
peal of the law leaves matters worse than before
the law was enacted, as the unsuccessful law is
used as an argument against the expediency of any
law on that subject.—A director found speculating
in the stock of his own road, either by purchase on
margins or sales on margins, should be severely
punished. The temptation to sacrifice the inter-
ests of the road to subserve his stock operations is
too great to be permitted to exist.
desires to speculate in the stock of his own rail
way should be required first to leave the board of
direction ; if he fails to do so, he should, on de-
tection, be punished as a malefactor. — The ficti-
|tious capitalization of railroads in the United
The man who
States is an evil more difficult to deal with. Many
motives combine to create such fictitious capitali-
zation. Some are justifiable, others are sinister.
Take the case of a mining property. A prospector
discovers a silver mine; he sells it for $30,000 to a
capitalist in the neighborhood. The property is not
developed; the discovery may amount to nothing.
It may also be worth millions of dollars. The cap-
italist, the first investor, spends a few thousand
dollars in developing the property, and thereby as-
certains that the leads open into a vein within the
domain of the lines of the stakes. He has his ore
analyzed, and discovers that it yields from sixty
to eighty dollars a ton. He thereupon proposes to
sell this property, and does sell it to a stock com-
pany, who capitalize the property at a million of
dollars, pay him a hundred thousand dollars cash,
and something less than half the capital stock, and
with the remainder of the capital stock, they sup-
ply the treasury sufficiently to develop the prop-
erty. They find some takers on the basis of a
million; others on the basis of half a million ;
others on the basis of a quarter of a million; but,
as it is possible that the mine may be worth a
million of dollars by capacity to yield sufficiently
to pay interest upon such a sum and to return the
capital invested within a given period of time,
there is no public wrong in such fictitious capitali-
zation, unless it is accompanied by fraudulent pre-
tenses. The injury, if any is done, is limited also.
The individual has invested his money at an ex-
cessive valuation, and there is an end. Railway
corporations are, however, organized upon ficti.
tious capitalization upon a different basis. A line
from one point to another, Say a distance of a, hun-
dred miles, is surveyed. It is ascertained that it
will cost about $15,000 a mile to build, including
acquisition of land, and about $5,000 a mile to
equip; a total of $20,000 a mile. Application is
then made for town and county aid, which aid is
generally represented by investment in the stock
of the road. The first purpose is to give as little
as possible in the way of value in return for such
money aid, and it is, therefore, necessary to inter-
pose between the stock and the property a suffi-
cient number of mortgages to make the prospect-
ive value. of the stock of little or no value. A
construction company is then organized, which
takes the town and county aid as part of its cap-
ital, and the railway corporation, instead of mak-
ing its contract upon the basis of Cash, issues to
the construction company, say first mortgage
bonds of $20,000 a mile, or possibly $25,000 a
mile ; second mortgage bonds of $20,000 a mile,
and stock of an equal sum, making a total cap-
italization of $65,000 a mile, instead of the $20,000
a mile at which the road could be constructed.
The construction company is composed gener-
ally, directly or indirectly, of the officers of the
road and their friends, who build the road upon
the basis of cash obtained by negotiating through
bankers the securities represented by the bond is-
sues of the railroad company; they acquire the
stock for little or nothing, and also frequently a
528
RAILWAYS.
large proportion, if not the whole, of the second
mortgage, and in prosperous times they may suc-
ceed in building and equipping the road on the
issue of the bonds secured by the first mortgage
alone. By this system the road comes into ex-
istence laboring under the necessity to earn, over
and above operating expenses, interest on a
funded debt, about double the cost of the enter-
prise, and, if possible, to earn dividends on the
stock beyond that sum. That this rate of earn-
ings has been accomplished in the United States
to a very considerable degree is an illustration of
the remarkable development which the country
has experienced in every direction during the past
twenty years, and is an illustration, likewise, of
the enormous growth and progress of all material
interests which have taken place ; because this
mode of stock and bond issue is the all but uni-
versal rule with reference to the construction of
new lines in the United States.— The excuse made
by railway builders for this course of proceeding
is, that upon the basis of an ordinary profit no
one would undertake the extremely hazardous
task of introducing railways into new territory.
The peculiar risks incident to such an enterprise
are, that if the traffic fails to come they lose their
money, and if the traffic develops they are in im-
minent danger of being immediately compelled
to divide such traffic with some other rival line;
that, therefore, they must find the return of the
capital and their profit, not in waiting for the de-
velopment of the business, but in selling bonds
and stock to the investing public upon a basis of
fictitious value. So long as investors purchase
without proper investigation this class of secu-
rities, it is difficult to see how they have any
ground for complaint; as the mode of manufact-
uring these securities is sufficiently well known
to be a matter of public notoriety. As to the peo-
ple at large, however, the effect of this fictitious
capitalization bears a different aspect. It is true
that the cost of a road and its capital account
have but little to do with the rate at which it is
required to carry to and from a few competitive
points. It has, however, very much to do with
the fixing of the local rates, and is a constant in-
centive to increase the rates for the purpose of
paying interest and return upon all the capital is-
sues of the road. For the state to interfere and
absolutely forbid any false capitalization, which
is, in other words, the anticipation in the capital
account of the development in time of the traffic,
would probably interfere considerably with the
undertaking of new railroad building, unless such
interference and prohibition are accompanied
with some guarantee of the field. — The two
evils, unrestricted competition in railroad build-
ing and false capitalization, hang together. Were
railway projectors secure that a certain territory
would be left in their possession until they could
receive back the return of their capital and a rea-
sonable percentage on the outlay, there would be
no reason for continuing the incentive to railway
construction of false capitalization, so that the
promoters can immediately obtain by means of
this quasi-fraudulent element a return and profit
for the outlay of their money; they could then
contentedly wait to receive an adequate return
for their money upon the basis of a capitalization
bearing a close relation to the actual cost of the
construction and its equipment. Justified as is
the opposition to stock watering, both on the part
of the investor and on the part of the public, the
reform of this evil can only then be safely entered
upon, so as not to avoid materially checking new
railway enterprises, with a concomitant change
in the policy of the state governments as well as
the national government, recognizing the fact
that railway construction should not be left to
absolute free competition, but is a trust which
should be given with circumspection, and, when
given, surrounded, first, with guarantees to the
state and to the people that the men who under-
take it will faithfully perform their trust, and
Secondly, with guarantees from the people and
the state to the entrepreneurs that they will per-
mit them for a given number of years undisturb-
edly (under limitations as to charges) to obtain
the advantage of the traffic development which
their enterprise has created, without incurring
the danger of being compelled to divide such traf-
fic with another organization, which takes pos-
session of the developed field, not to render addi-
tional services to the public embraced within its
line, but simply to take away from and divide
the income of the existing road. — There is no
question but that the system is entirely vicious,
but it is a system that has its roots in the false
path which the public has traveled in relation
to railway enterprises by treating them as private
enterprises instead of public ones, and therefore
has given a basis for the railway speculators
point of view, that it is their business, and not
the public’s business, at what rate they see fit to
capitalize their roads; and, as the public gives
no care to protect the railway constructor in his
enterprise, the railway builder, in his turn, im-
agines that he owes nothing to the public in that
regard. — Mr. Poor, in his introduction to his
Manual for 1883 (and he speaks from the rail-
road point of view), can not but admit “that the
increase of share capital and indebtedness of the
railroad companies for the three years ending Dec.
31, 1882, was $2,023,646,842, the average cost per
mile of the new roads being in round numbers
$70,000.” He estimates that the cash cost of all
the railroads built in the United States in the last
three years did not exceed probably $30,000 per
mile, or $900,000,000 in all. He estimates, there-
fore, t. at more than half of this enormous capital-
ization is entirely fictitious. He says, with great
frankness, “Of course such an enormous increase
of liabilities over cash outlay is to be greatly re-
gretted, and is well calculated to create a distrust
of all securities, good and bad.” There is an abuse
connected with railway administration which re-
quires legislative remedy—the granting of the right
of way for telegraphic purposes at the same time
RAILWAYS.
§29
with that for railway purposes. With every ex-
tension of an old railroad or the building of a
new one, the Western Union telegraph company is
ready to step in and stretch wires for the new cor-
poration or line, under a contract that the railway
company gives to the Western Union telegraph
company the exclusive right to maintain the tele-
graph service to the towns and stations along the
line, in consideration of which the railway com-
pany can, for its purposes in the management
of its road and in the dispatching of its trains,
use the telegraph line thus built. This gives to
the telegraph line a free right of way; and, as the
railway in all territory west of the Mississippi and
south of the Potomac is in reality the main line of
travel, along the line of which towns spring up
and population congregates, it gives to that par-
ticular organization an enormous advantage over
its competitors and all new organizations, inas-
much as it not only gives the free right of way
along the line of the railways, but an exclusive
service in connection with the railways. This
abuse, which as yet has scarcely attracted public
attention, came to the surface only during the
recent controversies in relation to the stock water-
ings and acquisitions of rival properties by the
Western Union telegraph company. This is also
difficult of remedy without legislation recognizing
the monopoly character of railroad and telegraph-
ic enterprises, and should, if permitted hereafter,
be allowed only on condition that such field may
be secured in consideration either of lower charges
to the community, or providing some species of
sinking fund by which the community shall ul-
timately acquire the property. — This brings us
to the final consideration of what is the probable
future of the railway question in the United States.
The railways now represent an aggregate capital
of something approaching $7,000,000,000. A con-
siderable proportion of that total capitalization is
in the hands, or largely under the control, of less
than one hundred men, who are not the highest
type of modern civilized life. After giving them
credit for business capacity, shrewdness and in-
telligence, there are still lacking some elements of
character which are created by living up fully at
all times to contracts, the basis of the modern
social organism. Unlike increase of capitalization
in any other business, increased capitalization in
railroad enterprises does not increase the number
of great capitalists engaged in the business, but
has a tendency to decrease them, because amalga-
mation and consolidation proceed with greater
rapidity than extension of mileage. Compared
with the power represented by this vast aggregate
of capital, the power and the influence of nobility
in any civilized community are small. — One of
the arguments in favor of a great national indebt-
edness at the time when it was in process of
growth, was, that, though unfortunate for the
country to be compelled to roll up so large a debt,
yet it had a counterbalancing good, inasmuch as it
interested vast numbers of people in the success
of the government and in its stability by the pecu-
153 VOL III. — 34
niary interest of the bondholders. As the indebt-
edness of the United States was, at its very high-
est, less than one-half of the aggregate capital
now represented by the railway interest, it is
clear that there is a larger pecuniary interest on
the side of the railway to-day, arising from cap-
ital investment in its obligations, than there was
at any time on the side of the government. Rail-
way capital is now four times the amount of the
public debt. In any contest, therefore, between
the government and the railway enterprises, it
is clear, that, so far as mere pecuniary interests
are concerned, the railway enterprises largely
preponderate. Adding to this the circumstance of
the concentration of this great railway power in
comparatively few hands, the extent to which they
can corrupt the commonwealths is practically
limited only by their will. — At the time of the
institution of the government of the United States
and of the various states, European governments
were great monopolies in the hands of the few.
From the corrupting influence of a like power
American statesmen sought to shield the Ameri-
can people. Governmental responsibility and pre-
rogatives of executive power, instead of being
centralized, were diffused and split up, and to a
large extent sacrificed, for the purpose of creating
a larger degree of individual freedom. The gov-
ernments of the states of the Union were there-
fore loosely put together, so that public opinion
could break through at any point and influence
them. Permanent large ownerships of land; titles
of nobility, special privileges and great accumula-
tions of capital were guarded against by abolish-
ing the right of primogeniture, of patents of nobil-
ity and of accumulations. The corporation was
but little extended, because credit was but little
developed at the time of the organization of the
United States government. Hence it was not ob-
served that some of the evils which were thus
carefully intended to be guarded against, such as
primogeniture and accumulations, were allowed
to come back in more aggravated form through
the perpetual existence of the corporation, making
a continuous increase of capital accumulations
possible through its instrumentality, with the ag-
gravating circumstances, that, instead of those
vast properties being in the hands of individuals
responsible for their right conduct in their indi-
vidual capacity, and distributed by the natural
process of death into a greater number of portions,
the great accumulations and vast possessions of
modern times are under the control of boards of
directors having less immediate responsibility than
the individual to legal influences, and being less
governed by considerations of a social character
properly to administer their trusts. The United
States constitution and the constitution of the
states contain provisions against unjust taxation
by carefully worded provisions that taxation shall
be equal. The amount collected for freight and
passenger traffic in the United States by the rail-
ways of the United States in 1882 was $770,000,000,
an amount double that of the revenues of the
530
RAILWAYS.
United States government. Every dollar of this, as
to mode and manner of expenditure, is in the hands
of boards of direction, with scarcely any accounta-
bility to the public, and but a very remote one to
their own shareholding interests. –In every pres-
idential election for the past twenty years the rail-
way corporations took an important part. In the
election of governors in the various states and
in the formation of the state legislatures, in influ-
encing appointments of committees, they play a
significant rôle, and one which is scarcely any
longer disguised. They do this avowedly on the
theory of self-protection; but no irresponsible
body ever stopped short at self-protection, be-
cause the power which enables them to protect
themselves against aggression is likewise a pow-
er which may be wielded in aggressing upon
the rights of others. — The mode and manner of
the collection of this revenue is not yet amena-
ble to public control in the United States, and
yet the cost of transportation more closely resem-
bles taxation in all its incidents than any other
method of receiving return for services in the
industrial world. — When the railway corpora-
tions, under the administration of Mr. Fink, in
July, 1882, raised their rates on west-bound
freight from New York to Chicago, from forty-
five to sixty cents per hundred pounds on first
class, from thirty-two to fifty cents on second
class, from twenty-six to forty cents on third
class, and from nineteen to thirty cents on fourth
class, every commodity transported from New
York to Chicago had this additional tax imposed
upon it as part of its cost of production in Chi-
cago, in the same manner as though the govern-
ment had imposed the tax, and there was little
and even less possibility of escaping from that
imposition than there is from a governmental tax.
— It is, therefore, of at least as much importance
to a community to be fairly and equitably dealt
with in its cost of transportation as it is to be
fairly and equitably dealt with as to taxation.
And unfairness and injustice in the cost of trans-
portation bring about the same disastrous conse-
quences to individuals and to classes as unfair
and unjust taxation does. It is, indeed, a mild
statement of the case to say that the injury in-
flicted by the unfair cost of transportation is as
great as that inflicted by unequal taxation, be-
cause the mischievous consequences of unfair or
unwise transportation rates are necessarily great-
er than those that arise from unequal taxation,
• and dry up, more rapidly than would bad taxing
laws, the prosperity of a community. Therefore,
by carefully worded constitutional provisions, to
protect the community from the evils of oppres-
sive and unequal taxation by government, and
then to leave this great and growing power of
private taxation without responsibility to govern-
ment in its administration, is to guard the public
against the ravages of the wolf, and to leave it
unguarded from the attacks of the tiger. That
already the legislative bodies of the states of the
Union are as wax in the hands of the modeler un-
der the manipulations of these great corporations,
is a truth which, in all the more densely popu-
lated states, in the north and the east, the people
have been made to feel. How to get back their
control, and yet not change it into a control of a
very dangerous character, by adding the Supervis-
ion of the expenditures of the enormous revenues
of the railways to the supervision of the enor-
mous revenues of the United States, and of state
and local administrations, administered as they are
in the main by politicians not much, if any, above
the status of the railway magnates, is probably the
most serious problem which, since the abolition of
slavery, has confronted the people of the United
States. There is much keen perception and wis-
dom in the way Professor Sumner puts the rela-
tion of the government to the people in the United
States, when he says that the government, in the
abstract, is all of us, and, in the concrete, some of
us, who, by accident or chicane, obtain control,
and those some of us not the best of us, and that,
therefore, it always becomes a serious question
what these some of us should be permitted to do
for all of us. Therefore, no heroic measures can,
in the present aspect of political conditions in the
United States, safely be entered upon. These very
political conditions suggest a possible point of
view from which we can regard this powerful
*mperium in imperio of the aggregated railway
corporations as something other than an unmixed
evil. The corruption of our political machinery
has proceeded almost simultaneously with the
growth of the railway corporation. As the basis
of civilization, the security of capital is certainly
of as much importance to a community as its form
of government. Peoples have become civilized,
and enjoyed a certain degree of prosperity, under
forms of government other than our own. No
community can enjoy prosperity, or attain any
high degree of civilization, where property rights
are not secured. Property protects itself best from
aggression, or unjust tribute, when it is congre-
gated under corporate management, in few hands,
because it becomes, in its centralized form, capa-
ble of wielding a power which the politician is
bound to respect. Under the corrupting condi-
tions of existing administrations, it has, perhaps,
been one of the modes of preserving property
from the grasp of those who, in national, state
and municipal governments, represented public
power ostensibly, but really represented their per-
sonal interests first, and party caucus and boss in-
terests in the second rank. In the long run, how-
ever, this condition becomes intolerable. No
community can safely pursue its course of hap-
piness and well-being where the actual highest
power wielded in the community is not responsi-
ble to the people, where its government is a mere
simulacrum, and all real power is moulded behind
the throne by a moving power. It is just as ob-
jectionable if this moving power be a band of
railroad directors who move the government, as
that it should be the mayor of the palace, a church
institution, a cabal of courtiers or loose Women.
RAILWAYS.
531.
Against such an insidious power the ballot is inef-
fectual, and even revolution almost hopeless.— It
is, therefore, essential, as a necessary part of the so-
lution of the problem before us, that the people of
the United States should awaken to the fact that
their methods of legislation and their methods of se-
lecting legislators, their political organization and
political administration, must be reformed as well
as the railway administration, and.that the amen-
ability of railways to the public is very largely
dependent upon such reform in political adminis-
tration. The civil service reform is already a step
in the right direction, and its permanent estab-
lishment will make thoughtful investigators on
current events less fearful of clothing govern-
ments, both state and national, with the additional
powers necessary to cope with the railway prob-
lem. The other more important reforms, how-
ever, are those of methods of legislation and
representation. (See LEGISLATION, REPRESENTA-
"TION.) The people must concede, once for all,
that the line of policy as to railway management
has proceeded upon a mistake. They must recog-
nize the fact, that in all services, the supply of
which is limited to a certain locality, and which,
:as to such locality, can practically be indefinitely
increased without proportionately increasing the
plant, there is a monopoly character implanted
upon such service, whether it be the supply of
ways and means of transportation, of gas, of
water, of electricity, or of motive power on some
general plan, which takes these enterprises out of
the domain of competition, and compels a treat-
ment separate and apart from that of strictly pri-
vate enterprises. Some modification must be
made, limiting the existence of corporations, so
that from time to time something analogous to
the service that death performs in the individual
world shall happen to their accumulations and
power. Some plan should be provided, by way
of sinking fund, or gradual acquisition by the
government, by which enterprises of this char-
acter shall in time become the property of the
state. Such a plan of compulsory sinking fund
to repay capital must, of course, in all cases be
accompanied by some guarantee against invasion
of the field by other organizations; and, as Mr.
Fink observes, in his answer to inquiries of Mr.
Nimmo, in his report for 1878, “In the consid-
•eration of this subject one important fact should
always be kept in view, to-wit, that the effect of
the construction of a greater number of railroads
than are necessary to accommodate, the traffic, is
to increase to a great extent, not decrease, the
cost of transportation. The interest on the cost
of two roads built for the purpose of transacting
the business that could be transacted by one, and
the cost of maintaining the two roads, are of
course twice as much as the interest and the cost
of maintaining one road.” The interest and cost
of maintaining a road, he estimates as from 40 to
60 per cent. of the whole cost of transportation.
“It follows, therefore,” he continues, ‘‘ that for
every additional road built for the purpose of
transacting the business that could be accommo-
dated by the road already built, the cost of trans.
portation is increased from 40 to 60 per cent.”
This truth borne in mind would enable the gov-
ernment to give practical control of the field,
without thereby adding to the cost of transporta-
tion. It could at all times annex the condition
that no more than a certain percentage of profit
shall be earned, and that out of this surplus a
sinking fund shall be provided, to repay capital
outlay, and that, when the cost shall be repaid,
the road shall become public property. — We are
very far yet from this solution. The course which
is likely to be run in the United States in regard to
the railway problem is the extension of the com-
missioner system by state legislation and its adop-
tion by the federal government. A mass of light
thrown through the investigations of these bodies
upon the subject will make matters appertaining
to railway administration more generally under-
stood by the people of the United States. And,
by the time the railways are ripe for more heroic
treatment of the question, the people in all proba-
bility will also be ripe to treat it more intelligent-
ly, and will have made such progress in the moral
development of the administrative machinery of
the government that the additional powers to be
intrusted to that machinery can safely be to it
delegated by the people. SIMON STERNE.
RAILWAY CLEARING House.
CLEARING, AND CLEARING HOUSES.)
(See
RANDOLPH, John, was born in Chesterfield
county, Va., June 2, 1773, and died at Philadel-
phia, May 24, 1833. From 1799 until 1813 he was
a democratic congressman from Virginia. After
1801 he was for some years the administration
leader in the house ; but in 1805 he quarreled
with his party (see QUIDs), and for some years he
was a free lance, claiming to be a better democrat
than the dominant party, and yet opposing the
embargo and the war of 1812 in company with
the federalists. He was out of congress 1813–15,
having been defeated by Jefferson's son-in-law,
John W. Eppes, but was again in congress 1815–17,
1819–23 and 1827–9, and in the last interval was
United States senator, 1825–7. During a part of
the year 1830 he was minister to Russia. — Ran-
dolph's attenuated frame, his shrill voice, his
powers of bitter sarcasm, his extraordinary eccen-
tricities of speech, dress and manner, his pride of
descent from Pocahontas, and, with it all, his real
political power of thought, made him the problem
of his own time. He was variously supposed to
be crazy, emasculated, or guilty of some enor-
mous secret crime; but he seems to have been
only a supremely selfish spirit, loving a few others
because they belonged to him, and his selfishness
was concentrated into disease as they were taken
from him by death. — See Garland's Life of Ran-
dolph, F.W.Thomas’ John Randolph, Parton's Fa.
mous Americans; 2, 5 Harper's Monthly; 103 North
American Review. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
532
FEBELLION.
REBELLION. By rebellion is understood the
act of resistance by one or more individuals to
lawful authority acting within the limits of its
power. Insurgents are those who attack the gov-
ernment with the intent of overturning it, and
rebels those who refuse to obey it. It is true that
rebellion quickly becomes insurrection. The dis-
tinction between them, consequently, exists espe-
cially at the beginning, but exact definitions are
necessary in political language. Rebellion is, at
bottom or in principle, a refusal of obedience,
which manifests itself either by violence and as-
sault, or by passive resistance.—There is no rebel-
lion unless the public force, against which the
rebels rise, be acting in the execution of the laws,
or of legitimate orders of the authorities or the
courts. This is the essential element of rebellion.
When peace officers act outside of their right, or
exceed their power, resistance is not rebellion.
This principle was written in the Roman law (see
law 5, of the Code De jure fisci); it was even
taught in French law by Jousse (Traité des mat.
crim., vol. iv., p. 79). In such a case, the act of
the officer is an act of brute force. But the pre-
sumption of legality is in favor of the officer, and
it is for the person who believes himself to have
the right to resist, to show grounds of excuse in
justification. And, further, when a public officer
acts within the limits of his power, an irregularity
of form which clouded his title or acts would not
constitute an excuse, because then the officer com-
mits no violence, and at bottom his title and acts
are legal. But if, for instance, the officer purposes
to make an arrest, except in the case of flagrante
delictu, or to effect an execution without a judg-
ment, resistance is an act of lawful defense, pro-
vided that it does not go beyond the bounds of
strict necessity. — These are the least serious cases
of rebellion. They are what may be said to con-
stitute petty rebellion. Rebellion, in its greatest
development, goes much farther than contesting
the acts of a police officer; it calls in question the
very government whose orders he executes; it
raises against the government the same objections,
of incompetency, or of exceeding its powers,
which we have just supposed in the case of pub-
lic officers. The same principle, as to the lawful-
ness of the resistance, must be applied here. —
Rebellion, we have said, may show itself without
violence, and be entirely passive. Thus, breaches
of certain legal obligations are, in our opinion,
acts of rebellion. If the commander of an armed
force refuse to cause it to act, though he be law-
fully required to do so by the civil authority, he
deserves, according to our idea, the title of rebel,
quite as much as the wretch who meets a sheriff
with a blow from his fist. F. A. HäLIE.
REBELLION, The (IN U. S. HISTORY). The
name rebellion has been retained in this article
for the struggle of 1861–5, in preference to that of
civil war, which has latterly obtained considerable
currency as a milder expression. Whether it was
a rebellion or a civil war could only be decided
by its result. If it had been successful, it would
have decided that the United States had never
been a nation in its domestic relations, and the
conflict between the states of a voluntary con-
federacy might very properly have been termed a
civil war. As it was unsuccessful, and as the
nation maintained its previous and future entity,
the logic of events has stamped the struggle as a
rebellion by individuals, not a civil war between
states. It is true that many of the enactments of
congress and of the judicial decisions from 1861
to 1867 can only be explained on the theory that
the war was maintained against states: these in-
stances have been collected by Mr. Hurd, as cited
below. But they are opposed by more numerous
instances to the contrary, and are rather proofs.
of haste than of a consistent theory or policy.
Legally, it may have been a civil war as well as a
rebellion; politically, it was a rebellion only. Mr.
A. H. Stephens, who regards the struggle as a
revolution by which a voluntary confederacy was
transformed into a nation, very properly entitles.
his history of it “A Constitutional View of the
War Between the States”; but even he would be
compelled to call any similar struggle in the future
a rebellion. The name is retained here, therefore,
not in any invidious sense, but as one which can
not truthfully be avoided. (See NATION, STATE
SOVEREIGNTY.)—It is impossible to date the out-
break of the rebellion exactly. The secession of
South Carolina, or of any other state, can not be
taken as the date, for it might have been possible
for a state to pass an ordinance of secession, refuse
to take part in the government, and yet remain
peacefully in the Union so long as the execution
of the laws was not resisted. The seizures of
federal forts, arsenals, mints and vessels in Janu-
ary, 1861, bear far more affinity to a rebellion;
and yet these were so irregular and scattered,
Some of them with, others without, and others
disavowed by, the authority of the state, that
there seems even yet to have been a locus peniten-
tia, to the participants. But the organization of
the new government at Montgomery (see CoN-
FEDERATE STATES), was a different matter; this
was a step which there was no retracing, and with
it the rebellion takes a tangible form. From that
time there were two incompatible claims to the
national jurisdiction of the seceding states, and
neither of the two claimants could exist except
by forcibly ending the claim of the other. War
was a necessity, and the rebellion a fact to be
acknowledged. — The rebellion, however, was not
at first acknowledged, nor were instant measures
taken for its suppression. The responsibility for
this mistake has been concentrated by popular
belief upon the head of President Buchanan (see
his name), but it is unfair to deny a very large
share of it to the politicians of all parties in and
out of congress, to their complete ignorance of
their constituents, of their associates, and of them-
selves, and to the inevitable tardiness of action in
a republic. Hardly a northern man in congress
felt sure of his footing, or felt certain how far his
REBELLION.
533
constituents, who were quietly and steadily work-
ing at the plow, or in the office, or at the mill,
would support him in the hitherto unheard-of
measure of “making war upon a sovereign state.”
And so, through the whole dreary winter of
1860–61, the air of congress was redolent with
propositions for compromise; with protestations
of belief that the seceding states could never
mean it, and that the republic would yet go safely
through this crisis; and with appeals to the erring
sisters to reason together, to pause a moment, to
reflect and see if something may not yet be done;
but, so far as preparations to suppress the rebel-
lion were concerned, that congress, on its final
adjournment, was as if it had never existed. It
is not true that northern politicians hurried the
northern people into the war against the rebellion;
it is rather true that the uprising of the north and
west, after the capture of Fort Sumter, April 13,
1861, educated their politicians as they had never
been educated before. A decade before, July 22,
1850, Clay had passionately said of Rhett in the
Senate, “If he pronounced the sentiment attrib.
uted to him, of raising the standard of disunion
and of resistance to the common government, if
he follows up that declaration by corresponding
overt acts, he will be a traitor, and I hope he will
meet the fate of a traitor.” Unfortunately, it
required a popular uprising to bring the average
congressman up to Clay’s level. — It is, therefore,
almost a waste of space to detail the failures of
congress to act in 1860–61. The president aus-
piciously opened the session with a message which
John P. Hale, in the senate, very fairly summed
up under three heads: ‘‘first, that South Carolina
has good cause to secede; second, that she has no
right to secede; third, that we have no right to
prevent her from seceding.” Much of the time
of the session was consumed in the consideration
of proposed compromises (see, for the principal
ones, COMPROMISES, WI.; Congress, PEACE; Con-
STITUTION, III., B.), the debates being occasionally
interrupted by the farewells and departure of the
representatives of the states which seceded with-
out waiting to be conciliated. In the south
everything was drifting straight toward war. In
Charlestoll harbor Maj. Anderson, with his force
of eighty men, had abandoned Fort Moultrie,
Dec. 26, 1860, and established himself in Fort
Sumter, a far stronger position, commanding the
mouth of the harbor. The same day commis-
isioners from South Carolina to the president ar-
rived in Washington, but he refused to recognize
them officially, and they went home again, Jan.
3. Thereafter the state continued to erect bat-
teries at every advantageous point around the
fort, and these were strong enough to fire upon,
Jan. 9, and drive back the steamer “Star of the
West,” with provisions for the fort. The con-
federate government, immediately after its organ-
ization, appointed three commissioners to treat
with the federal government. These arrived at
Washington March 5, and at once opened com-
munication with Seward, the new secretary of
state. March 15, Seward refused to recognize
them as diplomatic agents of any government,
but his reply was not delivered to them until
April 8, on which day official notification was
sent to Gov. Pickens, of South Carolina, that Fort
Sumter would be provisioned at once, and by
, force, if necessary. On this delay of twenty-
three days in delivering the reply, the commis-
sioners based a charge of bad faith against Sew-
ard, but it seems to be unjust. Seward seems to
have been personally in favor of abandoning Fort
Sumter, and the reply was sent only when the
rest of the cabinet had persuaded the president
not to yield. The notification to Pickens was
effectual in one way. Before the relief expedition
could reach the fort, it had been summoned and
bombarded, and had surrendered. — Some of the
northern states were at least partially prepared for
the struggle. In 1857 and 1858 the militia of
Ohio had been thoroughly reorganized by Gov.
Chase. Gov. Andrew, of Massachusetts, in his
inaugural address, in January, 1861, had advised
the legislature to put a part of the militia on a
war footing, and immediately afterward had sent
an agent to Europe to purchase arms, and invited
co-operation by Maine and New Hampshire. Jan.
11, the New York legislature voted to offer the
whole military force of the state to the govern.
ment, and five days later the New York city
militia formally offered their services to the presi-
dent. But all these were exceptional instances,
and as a general rule the northern and western
states were quite unprepared. The president’s
proclamation, April 15, commanding insurgents
to disperse within twenty days, and calling for
75,000 of the militia to secure the execution of
the laws in the southern states, met with varying
responses. In the south the proclamation was
answered by the rapid secession of those states
which had hitherto refused to secede, but were
opposed to coercion. (See SECESSION.) In the
border states, Missouri, Kentucky, Delaware, and,
probably most important of all, Maryland (see
that state), refused to secede, and gradually came
over to an acceptance of the idea of coercion. In
the north the response to the call for men was
instant, and the quotas of the states were filled
twice over. One regiment, the Massachusetts
sixth, mustered early on the morning of April
16, and reached Washington three days after-
ward, after the first loss of life in the rebellion,
during a street fight with a mob in Baltimore,
April 19. The day before, several hundred un-
armed Pennsylvania troops had arrived. April
25, troops began to pour into Washington, hav- ,
ing made their way around Baltimore, and the
capital became, as it remained for four years, an
entrenched camp. — In the meantime, by alter-
nate proclamations of Presidents Lincoln and
Davis (see ALABAMA CLAIMS), open War had be-
gun, the latter regarding it as a war declared by
the United States against the confederate states,
the former as the suppression of a rebellion. The
two difficulties which most embarrassed President
534
REBELLION.
Lincoln are elsewhere detailed (see INSURRECTION,
I.; HABEAS CORPUS); but, besides these, there
were others, more serious, if not so annoying.
The loss of Harper's Ferry, April 18, involved a
loss of very much of the government machinery
for making arms. The burning of Gosport navy
yard, April 20, almost annihilated the little rem-
nant of the federal navy. The wholesale resigna-
tions of southern-born and even northern-born
officers in the public service had seriously crip-
pled it, and of those who remained it was impos-
sible to know whom to trust, or to be confident
that any given officer would not resign without
notice and betake himself to Montgomery. The
treasury had been so nearly bankrupted in the
preceding December that the robbery of about
$1,000,000 from the Indian trust fund in the war
department could hardly be made good. An
army, navy and treasury were to be evolved out
of nothing, by an administration and a people
who knew nothing of war, and all was to be done
without legal appropriations of money or authori-
zation by law, for congress, by the president’s
summons, was not to meet until July 4. For this
failure to summon the special session for an earlier
date, Lincoln has been sometimes severely cen-
sured, but it was either very fortunate, or the re-
sult of a wise forecast. So late as July there
were among the members of congress several,
such as Breckinridge and Burnett, of Kentucky,
who were with the confederacy in spirit, and
were soon afterward with it in the body. The
number of such would undoubtedly have been
much larger if May 1 had been fixed for the meet-
ing of congress. And, further, congress would
have been divided and probably incompetent at
the earlier date. A part of its members would
have come only to renew the tedious attempts at
compromise of the past winter, and a part ani-
mated only by the enthusiasm of the Sumter
rising; and internal dissension would have had
more attention than the public good. As it was,
when congress met, the time for conciliation and
compromise was evidently past; a sober realiza-
tion of the enormous task to come had taken the
place of the first inconsiderate, and sometimes
foolish, excitement; and congress was a homo-
geneous body, well fitted for the emergency. —
When congress met, the area of the rebellion had
been fairly defined. Its northern boundary was
an irregular line from the Atlantic to the gulf of
Mexico, following the Potomac and the southern
boundary of Pennsylvania to the Blue Ridge;
then trending Southwest through western Vir-
ginia and west through southern Kentucky to the
Mississippi; thence west through central Missouri
to Kansas, and south and southwest to the gulf
of Mexico, taking in the Indian territory, whose
people had replaced their former treaties by new
ones with the confederate states, and Texas.
South of this line the whole people was in rebell-
ion, for the sincerest Union men among the local
leaders felt bound to obey the final action of the
State (see ALLEGIANCE), and the new national
government claimed and received the allegiance of
the doubtful mass. Within this line the southern
states stood in the attitude of a beleaguered for-
tress, covering an area of more than 700,000 square
miles, with a line of investiture of 10,500 miles,
and containing within it a population of 8,000,000.
whites, 1,400,000 of them fighting men, and
4,000,000 blacks, most of whom remained faith-
ful laborers to the end. The military and naval
events of the rebellion need be only briefly
summed up here. — At first the rebellion was to
be overthrown by the “anaconda system,” if it
can be called a system. The line of investiture
was to be assailed at every available point, and
the rebellion was to be pressed to death. In the
east this idea had several important results, only
one of which, the blockade, was of any use, if
the captures of Port Royal and Hatteras are to be
considered as an integral part of the blockading
system. Outside of the blockade, without which
the rebellion could never have been suppressed, it
is very doubtful whether any military operations.
in the east were ever of any great service, beyond
employing a large part of the confederate armies
to counteract them. Even if they had been suc-
cessful in the first years of the war, they could
only have had the distinctly evil result of pushing
the rebellion, with its natural energies unimpaired,
into the infinitely stronger positions of its central
territory. In the west the one great object of de-
sire was at first the opening of the Mississippi to
the gulf, and this was effected by the capture of
New Orleans, April 24–27, 1862, by the capture
of Wicksburg and Port Hudson, July 4 and 8,
1863, and a countless number of subordinate bat-
tles. But during this struggle the war had prac-
tically been ended, though indirectly, for the enor-
mous wedge of highland east of the Mississippi,
running south into the heart of the confederacy,
and the natural citadel of the continent, was al-
most entirely in the hands of the western armies.
In November, 1864, Sherman’s army, gathered on
the southern edge of the great citadel, and, as-
sured of Thomas’ ability to master the only con-
federate army in their rear, had only to choose.
the direction in which they should pour down
upon the plains below and push the rebellion from.
the mountains to the coast. Thereafter there.
could be but one object for the officers and men
of the confederate armies, to maintain undimin-
ished to the end that high reputation for personal
bravery which the national armies have always
and cheerfully acknowledged. Lee's surrender
took place April 9, 1865, and the first amnesty
proclamation of President Johnson, May 29 (see:
AMNESTY), may be taken as the formal close of
the rebellion, though isolated Surrenders con-
tinued throughout the following month. — Dur-
ing this long struggle, another was going on at.
Washington, even more difficult. In the field the
general line of success was only developed when
the original disadvantages of civil life had worn
away, when the original leaders, who fought with
one eye on the war and the other on home poli-
REBELLION.
§35
tics, had been eliminated or forced to subordinate
positions, and when the new group of professional
soldiers had been developed, Grant, Sherman,
Sheridan, McPherson, and others, who were for
the time absolutely reckless of political and civil
considerations, and who knew but one object—
war. But at Washington no such development
could or ought to have taken place. There poli-
tics had to have at least an equal consideration
with war, and the difficulties arising from the
complication of the two subjects did not cease
even with the cessation of the war itself. — The
37th congress met July 4, 1861. In the senate
there were thirty-one republicans and eighteen
opposition, ten of the latter being democrats, and
eight “unionists,” remnants of the old “Ameri-
can party,’” such as Garret Davis, of Kentucky,
and Anthony Kennedy, of Maryland, supporters
of the war, and opponents of every interference
with slavery. In the house there were 106 repub-
licans and seventy-two opposition, forty-two of
the latter being democrats and thirty “unionists.”
The house voted to consider at this session only
bills relating to the military, naval and financial
operations of the government; and July 15, by a
vote of 121 to 5, it pledged itself to vote any
number of men and any amount of money neces-
sary to put down the rebellion. Laws were
passed, by heavy majorities, to authorize a loan
of $250,000,000, to define and punish conspiracy,
to increase the tariff, to appropriate money for
the army and navy, to suppress insurrections (see
INSURRECTION, I.), to authorize the president to
collect the revenue in federal vessels or to close
southern ports in case collection was impossible
(July 13), to call out 500,000 volunteers, if the
president should think so many necessary (July
22), and to confiscate property, including slaves
(see ABOLITION, III.), if permitted to be employed
against the government (Aug. 6). A resolution
to validate and confirm the president’s “extraor-
dinary acts, proclamations and orders,” his call-
ing out men, blockading Southern ports, and sus-
pending the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus,
failed to pass, but was made the third section of
the act of Aug. 6, to increase the pay of the army.
(See HABEAs CoRPUs.) An important act of the
session was the passage of a resolution that the
war had been forced on the government by south-
ern disunionists; that it was waged by the govern-
ment in no spirit of Oppression, and for no pur-
pose of conquest, subjugation, or interfering with
the rights or established institutions of the seced-
ing states, but to defend and maintain the Suprem-
acy of the constitution, and to preserve the Union
with all the dignity, equality and rights of the
several states unimpaired; and that, as SOOn as
these objects were accomplished, the war ought to
cease. It passed the house, July 22, by a vote of
117 to 2, and the senate, July 26, by a vote of 30
to 5. (See RECONSTRUCTION.) Aug. 6, congress
adjourned, having voted all that the executive had
asked for. When it reassembled in December
(see CoNGRESS, SESSIONS OF), the Scattered drops
of July had settled down into the heavy and steady
Storm of war which was to beat upon the country
for more than three years to come. From the
first day of meeting, it was evident that congress
had very considerably changed its views as to the
proper mode of dealing with slavery. In both
houses a large number of resolutions were imme-
diately introduced, looking toward emancipation,
and with them began the course of legislation
which ended in the general abolition of slavery.
(See ABOLITION, III.; FUGITIVE SLAVE LAws;
WILMOT PROVISO.) These acts were then, and
have since been, denounced as in violation of the
good faith pledged in the resolution of July 22,
above mentioned. That resolution undoubtedly
expressed what was then the policy and intention
of both congress and its constituents, when the
magnitude of the war was not yet apparent, and
its interdependence upon slavery was not yet plain-
ly perceived. But a congressional resolution is
certainly not a part of the organic law, but a mere
piece of legislation open to change or repeal at any
moment. Other governments are never reproached
for vitally changing their policy as a war in which
they are engaged grows more desperate. It is a
tribute, though sometimes a provoking tribute, to
the exceptional good faith of the American repub-
lic, to find canons of good faith laid down for it
which would not be considered applicable else-
where. Outside of anti-slavery legislation, and
the appropriation bills, the most important action
of the session was the act of Feb. 25, 1862, author-
izing the issue of $150,000,000 non-interest bear-
ing notes, receivable for all dues to the United
States, except duties on imports, and for all claims
against the United States, except interest on the
public debt, and a legal tender for all debts, pub-
lic and private, within the United States, with
the exceptions above noted, which were to be paid
in coin. The legal tender clause was much dis-
liked by Secretary Chase, who only finally yielded
to it on the score of military necessity, and as a
war measure. (See, in general, FINANCE.) This
development of anti-slavery feeling and action in
the dominant party, the preliminary proclama-
tion of the president looking toward emancipa-
tion (see EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION), and the
summary suppression of opposition to the war
by arrest (see Arbitrary Arrests, under HABEAs
CORPUs), produced almost a complete political
change of relations in the north. Hitherto, demo-
crats in and out of congress had very steadily
voted for all measures designed to suppress the
rebellion by arms, while they as steadily accom-
panied their votes with the declaration that the
republicans, by abolition agitation, had been as
much to blame for the war as the secessionists.
They now alleged that the new anti-slavery policy
had been adopted mainly for the purpose of for-
cing their party into an attitude of opposition to
the war itself. If there was any truth in the
charge, the manoeuvre was successful: the demo-
cratic party gradually became a peace party (see
DEMOCRATIC PARTY, VI.), and those of its mem-
536
REBELLION.
bers who were willing to include slavery as one of
the vulnerable points of the confederacy were
forced into the “union party,” as the republican
party was henceforth frequently termed. The
first results of this bouleversement were unfavor-
able. In the autumn elections of 1862 the great
middle and western states, New York, New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and
Wisconsin, all of which had voted for Lincoln in
1860, gave democratic majorities. But, as it hap-
pened, the democrats gained and the republicans
lost little by these elections: in only two of these
states, New York and New Jersey, the election
involved a change of state government; and in the
members of the house of representatives of 1863–5,
chosen this year, the republican majority was
hardly impaired. The results were just sufficient
to confirm the democrats in opposition to the
War, and the republicans in active opposition to
slavery, while it should have been evident that, as
the two ideas became familiar in the future, the
tide of recruits must run steadily from the demo-
crats to the republicans, and no longer from the re-
publicans to the democrats. The democratic party
touched high-water mark in 1862–3; thereafter it
could only recede. — The session of congress
which began in December, 1862, was used by the
republicans mainly in Securing the positions which
they had already gained, and in making the neces-
Sary appropriations for the war. No great advance
was made in anti-slavery legislation, except that
the final thirteenth amendment was introduced
and left to become familiar. The fundamental
idea of final reconstruction by congress was also
plainly put into form, and left to become familiar.
(See RECONSTRUCTION.) In practical legislation
the great features of the session were the conscrip-
tion act (see DRAFTS), by which the national power
to compel the military service of its citizens was
for the first time declared and maintained; and
the national bank act of Feb. 25, 1863. (See
National Banks, under BANKING...) West Virgin-
ia was admitted (see that state); and the sus-
pension of the writ of habeas corpus was con-
firmed and regulated. (See HABEAs CoRPUs.)
The appropriation for the navy this year footed up
$71,041,401.01; and for the army $729,861,898.80,
with $108,807,645.20 for deficiencies. – The won-
derful tenacity with which the majority in con-
gress held its ground during this last session, tak-
ing no step backward on the slavery question,
and actually advancing in other respects, in the
face of the adverse majorities of 1862, was fully
justified by the event. Every day increased the
number of democrats to whom the idea of eman-
cipation as an incident of the war became less
dreadful as it became more familiar. July 4,
1863, seems to have been the political as well as
the military turning point of the war. From that
day it was certain that the confederate armies in
the east were to be so held in play as to be unable
to defend successfully their vital point in the west.
Nothing succeeds like success; and every mile of
advance by the western armies was a new guaran-
tee to the republicans of security for the past and
for the future. Everything had been gained, and
nothing lost, and it was only necessary now to
pass at leisure the crowning amendment for gen-
eral emancipation (see CONSTITUTION, III., A.),
and to wait patiently while the armed forces
worked out the already secured political future.
The autumn elections of 1863 were not generally
for important offices; but they indicated a strong
republican gain for the first time since 1860; and
in the states of Ohio and Pennsylvania, where the
control of the state government was involved in
the election (see those states), the republican major-
ity was decisive. — A new congress met in Decem-
ber, 1863, the republican majority being 36 to 14
in the senate, and 102 to 84 in the house. Its
action was mainly confined to the routine busi-
ness necessary for prosecuting the war, and to the
amendment and enforcement of previous legisla-
tion. Provision was also made for the admission
of Nevada, Colorado and Nebraska as states (see
those states), and for the repeal of the fugitive
slave laws. (See that title.) A first attempt was
made to pass the thirteenth amendment; the por-
tentous question of reconstruction was fairly in-
troduced; and the existence of the new class of
professional soldiers was recognized by the revival
of the grade of lieutenant general commanding all
the armies. This last grade was intended to be
filled by Gen. Grant. — With the adjournment of
this session of congress, the political history of
the rebellion practically ends. Little was to be
done by the dominant party, beyond gathering up
the fruits of victory, and drawing breath for the
coming struggle of reconstruction. Lincoln's re-
election, in the autumn of 1864, hardly doubtful
in the event of any action by the opposition, was
made certain by the democratic peace platform of
that year. This was followed by the final adop-
tion of the thirteenth amendment, abolishing
slavery, the only work of the session of 1864–5
which rises above routine. During the year, it
was ratified by the states. (See CONSTITUTION,
III., A.) — Throughout the political work of con-
gress in these eventful four years, its main char-
acteristics are its general reflection of the will of
its constituency, its openness, and its determined
resolution to retain the Supremacy of Congress
over the generals and armies in the field. In the
last two points it differed absolutely from its ri-
val, the confederate congress. (See CONFEDERATE
STATES.) At the opening of the war, while most
of the military leaders retained the habits of civil
and political life, these characteristics led to many
evils; annoying interferences and conflicts by the
committees on the conduct of the war, with vari-
ous military leaders; needless assertions of power
and dignity by the disputants; and the revelation
in the debates, of things in which not only military
science, but common sense, should have dictated
secrecy. But these evils cured themselves. As
the new class of generals grew up, habituated to
regard congress as a master, not as a would-be
tyrant, congress itself learned self-control by bit-
RECIPROCITY.
537
ter experience ; and the war ended with entire
harmony between the civil and military agents in
it. — Nor can it be doubted now that congress
generally reflected the will of its constituents.
The single plausible exception is the winter of
1862–3, above referred to. But, in that instance,
the majority in congress, if its members chose to
risk their political existence on the supposition,
had a fair right to presume, 1, that the elections
of 1862 were lost through their own lack of im-
portance, and the consequent neglect of many
republicans to take part in them; 2, that the co-
incident choice of a republican majority in the
next Congress was a fair popular indorsement of
their own change of policy; and, 3, that every in-
dication showed that the popular tide in their
favor would inevitably be strengthened by the
success of the union forces, without which any
policy would, of course, have proved a failure.
The result proved that in all three suppositions
they were correct. — For the special lines of work
done by the congresses of 1861–5, see ABOLITION,
III.; AMNESTY; BANKING; CONSTRUCTION ; DIS-
TILLED SPIRITs; DRAFTS ; ELECTORs, III. ;
FREEDMEN’s BUREAU; FUGITIVE SLAVE LAws;
HABEAS CORPUs; INCOME TAx; INSURRECTION,
I.; INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTs; INTERNAL REV-
ENUE ; JUDICIARY; MONROE DOCTRINE ; RECON-
STRUCTION, I.; SLAVERY : TERRITORIES; WAR
POWERS ; WILMOT PROVISO ; and the authorities
cited under them. See also (GENERAL) 2, 3 Dra-
per's History of the Civil War ; 12–14 Stat. at
Large ; Moore's Rebellion Record; Guernsey and
Alden's Pictorial History of the Rebellion ; Apple-
ton's Annual Cyclopædia (1861–5); 3 Wilson's
Rise and Fall of the Slave Power; 2 Greeley’s
American Conflict; Victor's History of the Rebell-
£om , 4 Bryant and Gay’s History of the United
States ; Botts’ Great Rebellion Pollard's Lost
Cause; (POLITICAL) McPherson's Political History
of the Rebellion ; Raymond’s Life of Lincoln,
Giddings’ History of the Rebellion (to 1863); Wil-
Son's Anti-Slavery Measures in Congress, Hurd's
Theory of Our Wational Evistence (index under
States, status of); Boutwell's Speeches and Reports;
H. W. Davis’ Speeches and Addresses; Hurlburt's
McClellan and the Conduct of the War, 2 A. H.
Stephens' War Between the States ; Harris' Politi-
cal Conflict, Gilletts' Democracy in the United
States ; (MILITARY) Callan's Military Laws of the
United States; Wilson's Military Measures in Com-
gress; Count of Paris’ History of the Civil War;
Gen. U. S. Grant's Report of the Armies (1864–5);
Reports of the Committees on the Comduct of the
War ; W. T. Sherman's Memoirs ; Swinton's
Twelve Decisive Battles of the War, Appleton's
Campaigns of the Civil War; Ingersoll's History
of the War Department; Boynton's History of the
Navy During the Rebellion ; Records of the Rebell-
Žon, Confederate Official Reports (1863); (FINAN-
CIAL) Schuckers' Life of Chase, 216, 293.; Won
Hock’s Die Fºnanzen der Ver-Staaten; Laws of the
United States relating to Loans and Currency (to
1878); Spaulding's History of the Legal Tender
Paper Money of the Rebellion; Perry's Elements
of Political Economy, 459; Gibbons' Public Debt;
McPherson's Indea of House Bills on Banks, Cur-
'rency, Public Debt, Tariff, and Direct Taa’es (1875);
Lamphere's United States Government, 44; John
Sherman's Select Speeches on Finance ; Nimmo’s
Customs Tariff Legislation, and, in general, Bart-
lett's Literature of the Rebellion (6,073 titles of
books, pamphlets and magazine articles relating
to the rebellion, directly or indirectly, up to 1866).
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
RECIPROCITY is a relation between two in-
dependent powers, such that the citizens of each
are guaranteed certain commercial privileges at
the hands of the other. Up to the middle of the
present century the term referred almost exclu-
sively to the grant of privileges to foreign ship-
ping. The earlier English policy had been very
illiberal in this respect, carrying out the principles
of Cromwell's navigation act, and of the colonial
system of the last century. But as time went
On, it became more important for England to ex-
tend her carrying trade in foreign lands than to
monopolize it in her own; and in the early part of
this century, under the influence of statesmen like
Huskisson, reciprocity treaties were concluded
with the leading maritime powers, by which each
of the contracting parties admitted the other's
Ships in its ports to the same privileges as its own
in the matter of the international carrying trade.
This system aroused much opposition at different
times in England; and in the United States was
strongly opposed by Webster; but it soon became
the prevailing one. — The commercial treaties of
earlier times aimed at Securing special privileges
and discriminating rates of duty. The one most
commonly referred to as a type of them all is the
Methuen treaty of 1703 between England and
Portugal, by which England made special rates
for Portuguese wines, and Portugal removed her
prohibition of the import of English woolens.
The same general principles, but applied with far
Sounder judgment of political and social needs,
appear in the series of German treaties beginning
with that between Prussia and Hesse in 1828, cul-
minating with the establishment of the Zollverein,
and ending with the treaty between the Zollverein
and Austria in 1853. — The treaty between Eng.
land and France in 1860 was the beginning of a
new order of things. Preceding treaties had been
dictated by special reasons of social policy: this
was intended and understood as an attempt in the
direction of free trade. France had an almost
prohibitive tariff; Napoleon wished to reduce it,
but in the existing state of public opinion dared
not do so without the appearance of international
co-operation. He had in view the general devel-
opment of French commerce, but he wished to
be able to show definite advantages to distinct in-
terests. The treaty with England, arranged in
1860 by Chevalier and Cobden, was the first result
of this policy. The English tariff was already on
a revenue basis; yet in return for the important
§38
RECIPROCITY.
French concessions it was still further reduced
on French articles of export. But what distin-
guished this treaty from preceding ones was the
fact that these reductions were not bargained for as
special and exclusive privileges. This treaty was
intended to become part of a system; it was con-
templated that both England and France would
make similar treaties with other nations, and in
view of this it was provided, that in case either of
the contracting powers should subsequently grant
to a third power conditions more favorable in any
respect, the other should have the benefit of such
conditions. This provision constitutes what is
known as the most favored nations clause; it was
incorporated in subsequent treaties, as had occa-
sionally been done in previous treaties, and soon
became the important element in them; for by it
a special concession made in favor of any one na-
tion at once inured to the benefit of all who had
similar treaties. It is this provision that distin-
guishes the modern European reciprocity system,
and has caused that system to work so strongly in
favor of free trade. — The gain to the commerce
of France and England was so great that other
nations hastened to secure the same advantages.
Similar treaties with France or England were
made by Belgium in 1861, Prussia in 1862, Italy
and Spain in 1863, Switzerland in 1864, and by
most of the other European states in 1865 and
1866. Even Russia ultimately secured at the
hands of some of the powers the benefit of the
most favored nations clause, though without much
reciprocity on her part. Within ten years the sys-
tem seemed to be firmly established all over Eu-
rope, and to insure steady progress in the direc-
tion of free trade. (For certain special statistics,
see Leone Levi in Journ. of Stat. Soc., 40, 1; for
discussion of principles, a work entitled “Letters
on Commercial Treaties,” etc., “by a disciple of
Richard Cobden.”) — But several circumstances
combined to stop this, progress, and to a certain
extent unsettle the system. The first of these was
the downfall of Napoleon III. He had not only
started the system, but had by his strong influence
done more to extend it than most people were
aware of. It had never been really popular in
the sense of calling forth general enthusiasm. It
Savored too much of bargaining, too little of prin-
ciple. And it was rendered less popular than
ever by wars like that of 1870, which intensified
the opposition of national feeling, and substituted
a spirit of embittered rivalry for one of mutual
help. This acted against the reciprocity system
in a variety of ways. Increased military expend-
iture demanded larger revenue; and nations chafed
under treaty restrictions which hampered them in
raising this revenue. The commercial treaties
looked toward free trade; but national pride and
the constant possibility of war led men to demand
a protective system. While men's minds were in
this state came the crisis of 1873; and public
feeling was only too ready to attribute the hard
times which followed to the one tangible grievance
of foreign competition, and to seek to be rid of
this grievance in all possible ways. – The diplo
matists were mainly free traders; and it was some
time before they understood the strength of the
feelings they had to contend against. The failure
of the English negotiators in 1876 to obtain some
expected concessions from France, began to reveal
the true state of the case. The termination in
the same year, by the action of Italy, of the
French-Italian treaty, and the rejection by France
of a proposed compromise treaty in 1877, were
equally significant. Of still greater importance
was Bismarck's change of attitude in 1878. Ever
since the year 1818 the Prussian government leaned.
toward a free trade policy, much more so than any
other great power except England. In 1862 their
steps in support of the reciprocity system had
been bold in the extreme. Now, such a change.
on the part of Prussia, as well as France and
Italy, rendered the future of the system extremely
doubtful.—To understand the negotiations which
followed, we must observe that in the applica-
tion of these treaties of commerce, two different
courses had been pursued by different states. One
group of states, headed by England and Prussia,
had no sooner made a concession to a single nation,
than they modified their whole tariff in accordance
with it, so that all nations, even those outside of
the system, at once had the benefit of the change.
Another group, represented by France, left their
general tariff unchanged, but in the collection
made a deduction of that amount in favor of na-
tions having the benefit of a treaty. Spain went
so far in this direction as to have two tariffs, the
lower for “most favored nations,” the higher for
all others. — As long as the statesmen on both
sides were animated by common aims, this dis-
tinction made very little difference. But when it
became a matter of international bickering, the
nations of the first group found themselves at a
great disadvantage. What special privileges are
you offering us under the treaty? French negoti-
ators constantly asked of the representatives of
those nations which had reduced their general
tariff. To this question there was no thoroughly
available reply; and it was this diplomatic help-
lessness that led to the “fair trade ’’ agitation in
England, and to a full discussion of certain points
in the theory of reciprocity into which we can
not here enter. (Westminster Rev., 112, 1; Con-
temp., 35, 269; Nineteenth Cent., 5, 638, 992; 6,
179; Fawcett, “Free Trade and Protection,” last
chapter.)—In the year 1881 a number of French
treaties were about to expire; and it was felt that
a critical point had come in the history of the
system. After some difficulties, particularly in
connection with the Italian and Swiss treaties,
they were nearly all renewed on the basis of in-
creased duties on either side. The treaty with
England was not renewed, but a special act was
passed placing England on the footing of the
most favored nations. On the whole, it may be
said that the continuance of the system has been
secured, but its efficiency in the direction of free
trade destroyed. — The United States has never
RECOGNITION.
b39.
been in any way connected with the system. At
the time of its adoption and growth, American
tendencies were all in the direction of increased
duties. Our reciprocity treaties have all belonged
to the earlier type of special arrangements. By
far the most important of them was the one with
Canada, proclaimed Sept. 11, 1854, and terminated
March 17, 1866, on notice given by the United
States one year previous. By the terms of this
treaty food products of all kinds, nearly all raw
materials, and some half-manufactured articles,
were allowed to pass free from one country to the
other. The dissatisfaction with the treaty arose
from the owners of mines, timber, etc., in the
United States, who found the price of their prod-
ucts kept down by Canadian competition. A
memorial in favor of its renewal was presented
to the United States government by the national
board of trade in 1873, but without calling forth
vigorous general support. — A similar treaty was
concluded with Hawaii in the summer of 1876,
for the benefit of certain business interests of the
Pacific states, particularly the sugar refiners. It
was severely criticised by Secretary Sherman,
after having been in operation about two years;
but it now seems to have accomplished what was
expected of it. The position of the United States
government on the subject of commercial treaties
is illustrated by the fact, that, when the Hawaiian
authorities attempted to negotiate a similar treaty
with Germany in 1879, they were checked by an
intimation from the United States that the value
of those privileges lay largely in their exclusive-
ness, and that the treaty must guarantee the
United States exclusive rights. – In the years
succeeding the exhibition of 1876, strong efforts
were made by French exporters to secure reci-
procity privileges from the United States. It was
hoped that if France would place America on the
basis of the most favored nations, America would
lower its duties on French wines and silks. In
spite of the repeated efforts of the French manu-
facturers’ agent to secure public sentiment in its
favor, the subject was never officially taken up.
ARTHUR T. HADLEY.
RECOGNITION. It is customary for princes
to notify the states with which they hold relations
of their accession to the throne. The same is the
case with all new governments. As a rule, es-
pecially in the case of a prince who succeeds
regularly and peaceably, this announcement is
met by congratulations and sometimes by send-
ing ambassadors, more or less extraordinary. At
other times only an official certificate of the notifi-
cation is given, and the receipt of it acknowledged.
There are even cases in which, at the time of a
change, no formality is employed; relations with
the new government are entered upon, and it is
thus recognized de facto. — International recogni-
tion was formerly of much greater import than in
our day. The dogma of national Sovereignty had
as yet been accepted by but a few daring innova-
tors; and right, justice and law were summed up
in the will of the prince. This was the period in
which a haughty king could say: l'état, c'est moč.
— It is now admitted that a people is independent
by its own right, exclusive of any recognition. Let
an island arise in the Atlantic to-morrow; let peo-
ple land and settle there; let them form themselves.
into an independent political Society and choose a
government; and that island would form a state
as lawful and regular as any other. International
recognition is at bottom only the authentication
of a fact, an anthentication which requires no
formality. In entering into relations with Japan,
with Burmah, or with any country, the remote-
ness of which preserves it from European enter-
prise, it never occurs to any one to begin by rec-
ognizing the government with which they are
about to treat. It is sufficient that it exists, and
in treating with it recognition is implied. — In
such cases as these, there could never be any doubt;
but doubt has arisen sometimes, when, in conse-
quence of internal revolution, one government has.
been replaced by another. The independence of
the state is not called in question, but it is hoped to
authenticate or legitimatize the new government
by recognizing it, though often again family mo-
tives or interested motives may prevent this being
done. The principle of national sovereignty,
better understood, has silenced all these scruples.
Recognition no longer implies approbation, and
foreign countries are not obliged to distinguish
between the government de jure and the govern-
ment de facto.
lished, if the nation accept it, and, above all, if it
has appointed it, it has all the legitimacy neces-
sary in order to be recognized. — Thus recogni-
tion adds nothing to the right of existence of a
state; it is only a means of facilitating interna-
tional relations. A state which is not recognized
is regarded as not existing for those which deem
it expedient to remain a stranger to it; but if any
inconvenience result from this lack of intercourse,
both the states suffer. The injury is greater, how-
ever, to the state which refuses recognition than
to the one which is deprived of it. Spain lost
nothing from the fact that the emperor of Russia.
would not recognize Isabella II., while Nicholas
I. made it impossible to exercise an influence over
Spain. Besides, it was Russia which was destined
to yield in the end, and, in such a case, the longer
the Sulkiness has lasted, the more it costs to effect
a reconciliation. — We have just been speaking of
governments established in consequence of a pro-
found change, violent or peaceful, in the constitu-
tion of a state. But before the new public powers.
are well established, several cases may occur, and
we must review them. In the first place, there
may be a “provisional government.” A diplo-
matic official agent, ambassador or minister is
never accredited to a provisional government; but
power may be given to an agent more or less offi-
cial to enter into relations with it, and to treat
with it on all pressing matters. In reality, such
an agent is an ambassador deprived of the honor-
ary immunities customarily enjoyed by the repre-
If the government appear estab-
º
540
RECONSTRUCTION.
sentatives of foreign powers. However, many
shades of difference are possible here. Then, two
parties may be contending for power. As long
as there is a doubt as to the definitive success,
foreign governments recognize only the one to
which its agents have been accredited. The new
government does not as yet exist; there is, conse-
quently, no occasion for recognizing it. Besides,
if relations are prematurely entered into with the
chiefs of an insurrection, the government still
established would have a right to consider itself
Qffended. When there is too much haste to recog-
nize, it is often in order to aid or intervene. The
third case to consider is, when a part of the ter-
ritory, a province, or colony, wishes to detach
itself from the state of which it has hitherto
formed a part. If this territory be victorious in
the contest, to the extent that its independence is
recognized even by the state from which it has
separated, foreign powers can have no doubt what
to do: recognition is then a simple authentication
of a patent fact. If peace have not been formally
concluded, each foreign state will be able to esti-
mate, at a given moment, if the territory which
claims to be independent has acquired sufficient
political stability to offer a guarantee for the
future. But we must not lose sight of the fact
that a state threatened with the loss of a province
will always see with displeasure that the separa-
tion is looked upon as accomplished, and, accord-
ing to circumstances, it will protest or declare
itself offended. A powerful country will pay no
attention to these complaints, but a weak country
will act with prudence. — We do not need to say
that to recognize the independence of a country
at the moment when the insurrection begins, con-
stitutes a real casus bell. War will not be recoiled
from, unless the insult come from too powerful a
state. — In 1861 a new situation was introduced
into international law, the recognition of bellig-
erents. We have had as yet but one example of
this, that which recognized as belligerents the
confederate states fighting to separate themselves
from the United States. It will be understood
that to recognize the southern states of the Ameri-
can Union as belligerents, was to close the English
ports to war vessels from the northern states,
which was an act of indirect hostility. Sympathy
was extended to the confederates, not because
their cause was considered just, but because their
Cotton was needed. We can not foresee what use
may be made one day of this semi-recognition, the
only example of which we have just cited, but
we instinctively regard the precedent as a thing to
be regretted. It may more than once encourage
malcontents to revolt, without its being deemed
expedient to come to their assistance otherwise
than by this indirect aid, which we can not help
regarding as a sort of intervention, perhaps with-
out danger, but more generally without honor or
profit. — When one state does not recognize a
change in the constitution of another, diplomatic
relations cease, as in war, and the subjects of the
disaffected states are commended to the good
offices of an allied state; they are thus officiously
(officieusement), using the term in a good Sense,
instead of officially, protected.
MAURICE BLOCK.
RECONSTRUCTION (IN U. S. HISTORY), the
political problem of the restoration of the seced-
ing states to their normal relations with the Union
after the suppression of armed resistance therein
to the constitution and the laws. Such a problem
would have been easy of solution under a simple
and direct acting government; in a highly com-
plicated system like that of the United States, in
which the parts and their action are so delicately
adjusted, any derangement shows its effects every-
where; and a derangement So great as was intro-
duced by secession, since it can not check the
national force, is almost certain to throw all the
wheels out of gear, convert the national machine
into a blind and guideless power, and make a bad
master out of a good servant. In the matter of
reconstruction the difficulty was increased, 1. By
the length and bitterness of the war. The terms
of reconstruction which were possible in 1862,
1863, 1864, or 1866, were each of them impossible
within a year thereafter. Every battle lost and
won, every vessel sunk, every house burned,
every case of mistreatment of prisoners, was in its
way a factor not only in anti-slavery action, but
in final reconstruction. 2. By the status of the
freedmen. It was impossible that the successful
party should feel no interest whatever in the fate
of the beings who had been converted by its suc-
cess from chattels into persons. It was natural
that the disposition of the conquered toward the
freedmen should be keenly and suspiciously scru-
tinized; and thus every act of individual violence,
every appearance of organized repression, which
came to light before the work of reconstruction
was completed, became a silent factor in the work.
3. By the existence of a written constitution which
provided for no such state of affairs. An omnip-
otent British parliament would have Soon hit on a
formal settlement, though its success in Solving
the Irish problem has not been so Swift or Sure as
to make us wish for a change of régime. The
American government could only engage in a
series of experiments, more or less successful, and
finally rest content with that solution which seemed
to offer the least difficulty and the greatest advan-
tages to the nation. “Happily for the nation,”
says Brownson, “few blunders are committed
that with our young life and elasticity are irrep-
arable, and that are greater than are Ordinarily
committed by older and more experienced nations.
They are not of the most fatal character, and
need excite no serious alarm for the future.” —
In considering the question, it is proposed, 1, to
give, as briefly as possible, the successive theories
of reconstruction; 2, to detail the Work as it was
finally done; and 3, 4, to consider its failures and
its successes. In so doing, there are certain prece-
dents which are often referred to by all of them,
and these may as well be given now, for reference.
RECONSTRUCTION.
541
— The Guarantee Clause. The constitution (Art.
IV., § 4) speaks as follows:... “The United States
shall guarantee to every state in this Union a
republican form of government.” To this was
often added the following paragraph from the
powers of congress (Art. I., § 8): “To make all
laws which shall be necessary and proper for car-
rying into execution the foregoing powers, and all
other powers vested by this constitution in the
government of the United States or in any depart-
ment or officer thereof.” This, it was claimed,
gave congress power to pass all laws which it
should consider “necessary and proper”. for car-
rying into effect the guarantee clause. This would
have been undeniable if the language of the clause
had been “congress shall guarantee,” or “the
government shall guarantee,” or even any “de-
partment or officer shall guarantee”; but the pecu-
liar phraseology, “the United States shall guar-
antee,” Seems to exclude all these interpretations,
and give the power concurrently to all the gov-
ernmental agents, executive, legislative and judi-
cial. Even in this view, however, the case of
Luther vs. Borden would seem to show that con-
gress has the power to enact laws to carry into
execution its concurrent power in the premises,
and that the president is bound to execute them.
— The Resolutions of 1861. At the special session
of 1861 joint resolutions were introduced to define
the objects of the war. That which was perti-
ment to this subject was as follows: “* * That
this war is not prosecuted upon our part in any
spirit of oppression, nor for any purpose of con-
quest Or subjugation, nor for the purpose of over-
throwing or interfering with the rights or estab-
lished institutions of those states, but to defend
and maintain the Supremacy of the constitution
and all laws made in pursuance thereof, and to
preserve the Union with all the dignity, equality
and rights of the several states unimpaired; that
as soon as these objects are accomplished, the war
Ought to cease.” It passed the house, July 22,
1861, 117 to 2; and the senate, July 26, 30 to 5. —
The Law of 1861. The act of July 13, 1861,
authorized the president, when he should have
called out the militia against insurgents claiming,
without dispute, to “act under the authority of
any state or states,” to proclaim the inhabitants
of the insurgent states to be in insurrection against
the United States; and ordered commercial inter-
Course with the insurgent states to cease. Accord-
ingly the president issued a proclamation, Aug.
16, declaring the inhabitants of Georgia, South
Carolina, Virginia (except those west of the Alle-
ghanies), North Carolina, Tennessee, Alabama,
Louisiana, Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Flor-
ida, to be in insurrection. — For the blockade of
1861 see ALABAMA CLAIMs. – I. THEORIES OF
RECONSTRUCTION. As a summary of the changes
of theory, we may say that the war was begun
under the theory of “restoration,” and that
this theory was persistently maintained by the
democrats to the end; that the presidential the
Ory was developed by Lincoln in 1863, and car-
| the rebellion shall have been put down.”
ried out by Johnson in 1865, but fell back under
the hands of the latter into a modification of
the restoration theory; that the Sumner and Ste-
vens theories received no formal ratification
from any quarter; but that congress, having ad-
vanced so far as the Davis-Wade plan of 1864,
was pressed by the force of contest with the presi-
dential theory into a plan of its own in 1867,
consisting of the Davis-Wade plan, increased by
the suffrage features of the Sumner theory, and
the whole based on a modification of the Stevens
theory of the Suspension of the constitution. — 1.
Restoration. The war began under the influence
of the idea that there was “not one of these
states in which there were not ample numbers of
Union men to maintain a state government after
There
were some warnings to the contrary. “It may
be,” said Baker, of Oregon, in the senate, “that
instead of finding, within a year, loyal states
Sending members to congress and replacing their
Senators upon this floor, we may have to reduce
them to the condition of territories, and send
from Massachusetts and Illinois governors to con-
trol them ; and, if there were need to do so, I
would risk even the stigma of being despotic and
oppressive rathcr than risk the perpetuity of the
union of these states.” But such warnings were
unheeded, and the general feeling was well repre-
sented by the resolutions of 1861. The actual
shock of war, and the evidently universal transfer
Of allegiance in the south to the confederate states
(see that title),at once worked a change. In Decem-
ber, 1861, the resolutions of July were again offered
in the house, but were laid on the table by a vote of
71 to 65. The same result with increasing major-
ities met subsequent reintroductions of the reso-
lutions. In December, 1862, these resolutions took
another shape, that of a simple declaration that the
war was prosecuted only to maintain the integrity
of the Union and of the states as they were at the
beginning of the war. In this form they were
ruled out of order, or laid on the table, by major-
ities small at first but steadily increasing. They
owed their defeat mainly to the fact that they
squinted at slavery and the admission of West
Virginia : if confined to the question of restora-
tion, they could as yet hardly have been defeated.
IEven Wallandigham's resolutions, long, cum-
brous, and containing the invidious word “pro-
fessedly ” in reference to the original object of the
war, were only defeated by a vote of 79 to 50.
Generally, however, democratic members hardly
felt it to be necessary to defend their position wig-
orously until reconstruction began to loom up
plainly in 1863–4. Pendleton's statement of demo-
cratic views may then be taken as authoritative.
“These acts of secession were either valid or in-
valid. If they are valid, they separated the state
from the Union. If they are invalid, they are
void; they have no effect; the state officers who
act upon them are rebels to the federal govern-
ment; the states are not destroyed; their consti-
tutions are not abrogated; their officers are com-
542
RECONSTRUCTION.
mitting illegal acts, for which they are liable to
punishment; the states have never left the Union,
but so soon as their officers shall perform their
duties, or other officers shall assume their places,
will again perform the duties imposed, and enjoy
the privileges conferred, by the federal compact,
and this, not by virtue of a new ratification of the
constitution, nor a new admission by the federal
government, but by virtue of the original ratifica-
tion, and the constant, uninterrupted maintenance
of position in the federal Union since that date.
Acts of secession are not invalid to destroy the
Union, and yet valid to destroy the state govern-
ments and the political privileges of their citizens.”
This ground was held thereafter by the democratic
conventions of all the states, and by the nation-
al convention of 1868, but it was unsuccessful.
Indeed, it was worse. Nothing is more curious
in the congressional votes on this question than
the manner in which democratic consistency and
persistency thwarted all propositions for mild
terms to the insurrectionary states. The names of
democrats and “radical” republicans, of Fernando
Wood and Thaddeus Stevens, appear side by side
in voting down the successive and increasingly
Severe propositions for reconstruction, until, after
1865, the “radical” republicans, falling back a
step, united with the moderate republicans and
swamped the democrats. – Kindred to this gen-
eral principle were the constant demands of the
democrats for a national convention of states.
They began July 15, 1861, when Benjamin Wood,
of New York, offered a resolution recommending
such a convention, which was tabled by a party
vote of 92 to 51; and they continued until the
democratic national convention of 1864 demanded
“a cessation of hostilities with a view to an ulti-
mate convention of all the states.” Toward the
end of the war, and particularly just before the
presidential election of 1864, many southern au-
thorities inclined to accept this scheme, if offered
to the seceding states; but they still insisted that
the states were not to be bound by the action of
the convention. — Another kindred proposition,
offered in December, 1861, and several times there-
after, was to appoint ex-Presidents Fillmore and
Pierce, Chief Justice Taney, Edward Everett, and
seven other commissioners, to confer with a like
number from the seceding states for the preserva-
tion of the Union. It was either left unconsidered
or tabled. — In the conference at Hampton Roads,
Feb. 2, 1865, between Alex. H. Stephens, R. M. T.
FIunter, John A. Campbell, President Lincoln, and
Secretary Seward, Mr. Stephens says that he asked
“what position the confederate states would oc-
cupy toward the others, if they were then to aban-
don the war? Would they be admitted to con-
gress? Mr. Lincoln very promptly replied that
his own individual opinion was that they ought
to be. He also thought they would be, but he
could not enter into any stipulations upon the sub-
ject. His own opinion was, that, when the resist-
ance ceased and the national authority was recog-
nized, the states would be immediately restored
court of the United States.”
to their practical relations to the Union.” This
statement, however, is opposed to the known fact
that the president was then fairly committed to
the presidential theory of reconstruction. — The
last attempt at “restoration * was the memoran-
dum of April 18, 1865, between Generals W. T.
Sherman and Joseph E. Johnston. It provided
for the disbandment of the confederate forces at
their state capitals, the re-establishment of the
federal courts, and “the recognition by the execu-
tive of the United States of the several state gov-
ernments on their officers and legislatures taking
the oath prescribed by the constitution of the
|United States; and, where conflicting state gov-
ernments have resulted from the war, the legiti-
macy of all shall be submitted to the supreme
The agreement was
repudiated by President Johnson, and an uncon-
ditional surrender took its place, April 26. —2.
The Presidential Theory. President Lincoln seems
to have held from the beginning, that while, as
commander-in-chief, he was bound to carry the
war into the heart of the seceding states, he was
also bound, as civil executive, to endeavor to
restore civil relations with the states themselves.
His theory is detailed in his proclamation of
Dec. 8, 1863, and his defense of it in his an-
nual message of the same date. The proclama-
tion, 1, offered amnesty to all but specified classes
of leading men; 2, declared, that a state gov-
ernment might be reconstructed as soon as one-
tenth of the voters of 1860, qualified by state laws,
“excluding all others,” should take the prescribed
oath (see its form under AMNESTY, I.); 3, declared
that, if such state government were republican in
form, it should “receive the benefits” of the guar-
antee clause; 4, excepted states where loyal gov-
ernments had always been maintained ; but, 5,
added the caution that the admission of Senators
and representatives was a matter exclusively
“resting with the two houses, and not to any ex-
tent with the executive.” The proclamation fur-
ther remarked, that “any provision which may
be adopted by such state government in relation to
the freed people of such state, which shall recog-
nize and declare their permanent freedom, provide
for their education, and which may yet be con-
sistent, as a temporary arrangement, with their
present condition as a laboring, landless, homeless
class, will not be objected to by the national ex-
ecutive.” The message says: “There must be
a test by which to separate the opposing elements,
so as to build only from the sound, and that test
is a sufficiently liberal one which accepts as sound
whoever will make a sworn recantation of his for-
mer unsoundness.” The presidential programme
thus included but four points: cessation of resist-
ance, the appointment of a provisional governor,
the taking of the oath of amnesty by at least one-
tenth of the white voters, and the formation of a
republican government; there was no negro Suf-
frage or supervision by congress in it, and the only
action of congress was to be the separate decision
of the two houses on the admission of members.
RECONSTRUCTION.
543
It is impossible to see any difference between this
and Johnson’s “policy.” The features are identi-
cal. Johnson always declared that they were the
same, and in his speech of Feb. 22, 1866, asserted
that Lincoln had told him, a year before that time,
that he was ‘‘ pretty nearly or quite done with
amendments to the constitution,” provided the
13th amendment were ratified. Seward and other
intimate friends of President Lincoln maintained
the identity of the systems. Gen. Grant, in his tes-
timony before the house judiciary committee, July
18, 1867, said that the first of Johnson's recon-
struction proclamations (for North Carolina) was
the same, and he thought the same verbatºm, as One
which had been read to him twice in a cabinet
meeting before Lincoln's assassination. We may
safely take the two systems as identical, as the
“presidential theory.”— So long as slavery was
not a point of attack, it is evident that restoration
and the presidential theory were very much the
same thing, the only new point in the latter being
the exclusion of white voters unable or unwilling
to take the oath. In this sense, Virginia (see that
state) was restored or reconstructed from the be-
ginning: the Pierpont government was recognized
by the president at first as the government of all
Virginia, then of the conquered portion of Vir-
ginia proper (after the separation of West Virgin-
ia), and at the close of the war it superseded the
rebellious government of Virginia, without objec-
tion from any quarter. Nor did it lack congres-
isional recognition, in both its aspects: Congress
admitted West Virginia by virtue of the formal
assent of the “Wirginia government” of Pier-
pont; and the separate action of the two houses,
according to the presidential theory, was illus-
trated by the refusal of the house to admit Pier-
pont members after 1863, while the Pierpont
senators held their seats, one until 1865, and the
other until his death, in 1864, when the senate
refused to admit his successor. — A new feature
came in with the president’s adoption of an anti-
slavery policy, in September, 1862. Thereafter,
the presidential theory included the abolition of
slavery, and a recognition of the anti-slavery
laws and proclamations in the amnesty oath. In
other points, it remained the same : no legislation
by congress, and separate action of the houses on
the admission of members. In this way, Louisi-
. . ana, Arkansas and Tennessee (see those states)
were reconstructed, in 1863–5. The legality of
these governments was always stoutly maintained
by President Lincoln. In his proclamation of
1864, hereafter referred to, in regard to the Davis-
Wade bill, he says that he is “also unprepared to
declare that the free-state constitutions and gov-
ernments already adopted and installed in Arkan-
sas and Louisiana shall be set aside and held for
naught, thereby repelling and discouraging, as to
further effort, the loyal citizens who have set up
the same.”— The counter-proclamation of Davis
and Wade alleged that an unsuccessful expedition
into Florida had the same object, to Organize a
presidential government. However true that may
be, the operation of the presidential theory, in its
second aspect under Lincoln, stopped with Vir-
ginia, Arkansas, Louisiana and Tennessee. Even
these examples were fortified by the separate
action of the houses upon them : the Louisiana
representatives were admitted in February, 1863,
while the senators were refused admission, as
were the representatives also after March 4, 1863;
the Arkansas Senators and representatives did not
apply for admission until 1864, and then the tem-
per of congress had risen so high that they were
refused; the admission of the Tennessee senators
and representatives, in July, 1866, was, as is here-
after noted, the point where the congressional
theory superseded its predecessor. — Congress ad-
journed, March 3, 1865, until Dec. 4 following;
Lincoln died April 15, 1865; and Johnson suc-
ceeded to his theory, with far inferior prospects
of success. Precedents were in his favor, the ad-
mission of West Virginia, the presence of senators
from Virginia 1861–5, of representatives from Vir-
ginia 1861–3, and of representatives from Louisi-
ana in 1863; he was supported by Lincoln's name
and cabinet ; and, above all, he had a clear field
for nine months before congress could meet.
Against him were his unfortunate temper, his in-
ability to temporize, and his controlling sympathy
with non-slaveholding southerners. It was certain,
that, at the first sign of failure in the presidential
theory, popular opinion would strike at Johnson
far more willingly than at Lincoln, and that John-
son was far less qualified than Lincoln to meet or
evade the attack. — Gen. Johnston surrendered
April 26, 1865, and May 29 following, President
Johnson began to put into operation the presiden-
tial theory, accompanying it with a new amnesty
proclamation (see AMNESTY, II.), such a measure
being an integral feature of the plan. In each
state, the sequence of events was, 1, the appoint-
ment of a provisional governor; 2, the summon-
ing of a convention, composed of, and voted for,
by whites able to take the amnesty oath ; 3, the
adoption of a constitution, or ordinances, forbid-
ding slavery, repealing or declaring null and void
the ordinance of secession, prohibiting persons in
the “excepted classes” from voting or holding
office, and repudiating the rebel debt; 4, the rati-
fication of these by popular vote; and, 5, the
election of legislatures, state governments, and
members of congress. There seems to have been
absolutely no check upon the action of the con-
ventions, except the president's proclamations,
and telegraphic information from him that their
action seemed to him satisfactory, or the reverse.
Excluding the states (Virginia, Arkansas, Tennes-
See and Louisiana) already reconstructed, there
remained but seven states. In each of these, pro-
visional governors were appointed, as follows:.
North Carolina, Wm. W. Holden, May 29; Mis-.
sissippi, William L. Sharkey, June 18; Texas,
Andrew J. Hamilton, June 17; Georgia, James
Johnson, June 17; Alabama, Lewis E. Parsons,
June 21 ; South Carolina, Benj. F. Perry, June
30; Florida, William Marvin, July 13. The first
544
RECONSTRUCTION.
proclamation of the series, as to North Carolina,
may stand for all : its preamble recited that the
United States guarantee to each state a republican
form of government, that the president is bound
to take care that the laws be faithfully executed,
that the rebellion had deprived the state of all
civil government, and that it was now necessary
and proper to carry out the guarantee of the United
States to North Carolina. In Mississippi, Georgia
and South Carolina, the late governors attempted
to convoke the legislatures, and anticipate recon-
struction, but the attempts were promptly sup-
pressed by the military commanders. The gov-
ernments of Virginia, Louisiana, Arkansas and
Tennessee were left undisturbed. In all the others
the work of reconstruction was so actively carried
on during the summer and autumn of 1865, that,
when congress met in December, claimants for
seats in the house and senate were ready from all
the seceding states, except Texas. The work of
reconstruction was then ended, so far as the presi-
dential theory could carry it ; and, as if to clinch
and fasten it permanently, Secretary Seward is-
sued his proclamation, Dec. 18, 1865, announcing
the ratification of the 13th amendment. In its
adoption, the ratifications of the legislatures of the
seceding states had been essential, and it seemed
as if no one could now reject the presidential the-
ory, without impugning the validity of the amend-
ment. — 3. The Summer Theory. Mr. Sumner of:
fered a series of resolutions in the senate, Feb.
11, 1862, ‘‘ declaratory of the relations between
the United States and the territory once occupied
by certain states.” The preamble recited the ac-
tion of the several seceding states, through their
governments, in abjuring their duties, renouncing
their allegiance, levying war on the government,
and forming a new confederacy. The resolutions
were nine in number, as follows: 1, that an ordi-
mance of secession is inoperative and void against
the constitution, but is an abdication by the state
of its rights under the constitution, and thence-
forward the state, felo de Sé, ceases to exist, and
its soil becomes a territory, under the exclusive
jurisdiction of congress; 2, that secession is a
usurpation, and action under it is without legal
support; 3, that the suicide of a state puts an
end to any peculiar institution upheld by the
state's sole authority; 4, that slavery is such an
institution; 5, that it is the duty of congress to put
a practical as well as a legal end to slavery; 6,
that any recognition of slavery is aid and comfort
to the rebellion; 7, that it is also a denial of the
rights of persons who have been made free; 8,
that, as the allegiance of all the inhabitants of the
seceding states is still due to the United States, the
protection of the United States is equally due to
all the inhabitants, regardless of color, class, or
... previous condition of servitude; 9, that congress
will proceed to establish republican forms of gov-
ernment in the “vacated territory,” taking care
to provide for the protection of all the inhabitants.
The essence of the resolutions is the idea of “state
Suicide”; that no territory can be compelled to as-
Sume, and no state can be compelled to retain, the
public rights and duties of a state against its will;
that, as Brownson expresses it, “a territory by
coming into the Union becomes a state, and a
state by going out of the Union becomes a terri-
tory.” The resolutions were never formally con-
sidered or adopted; but their theory remained,
and undoubtedly colored to some extent the final
work of reconstruction. — 4. The Stevens Theory.
From the outbreak of the rebellion until the end
of reconstruction but two parties consistently
maintained a consistent theory, the democratic
party and Thaddeus Stevens (see his name). The
democratic theory has already been given. The
Stevens theory may be briefly stated as the sus-
pension of the constitution in any part of the
country in which resistance to its execution was
too strong to be suppressed by peaceful methods.
He held that the mere fact of resistance suspended
the constitution for the time; that it could not
truly be said that the constitution and laws were
in force where they could not be enforced; that
the termination of the suspension was to be decided
by the victorious party; that, if the rebellion was
successful, the suspension would evidently be per-
manent; and that, if the rebellion was suppressed,
the suspension would continue until the law-mak-
ing and war-making power should decide that the
resistance had been honestly abandoned. Here
the theory shaded into the indefinite “war-power”
(see that title). But it differed more than it agreed.
Republicans generally held that armies were
marching and battles were fought and states were
reconstructed throughout the south by virtue of
the constitution and its war power, and they were
forced to strain the written instrument into the
most extraordinary shapes, and to take lines of
action which were radically contradictory. To
cite a single example: unless the Pierpont govern-
ment was the legal government of Virginia in 1861,
West Virginia is not, and never has been, a state
of the Union; and yet, if the Pierpont govern-
ment was legal in time of war, its reconstruction
by congress in a time of profound peace was un-
warranted by any law. But both these contradic-
tions were accepted. West Virginia was retained
as a state, and its members even voted on the
reconstruction of the parent state of Virginia.
All this, and countless other contradictions, were
blotted out by Stevens’ all-embracing theory.
From it he never swerved. At the special session
of July, 1861, he declared it as follows: “These
rebels, who have disregarded and set at defiance
that instrument, are, by every rule of law,estopped
from pleading it against our action. There must
be a party in court to plead it; and that party,
to be entitled to plead it, must first acknowl-
edge its supremacy, or he has no business to be
in court at all. Those who bring in this plea
here, in bar of our action, are in a legal sense the
advocates of rebels, their counselors at law; they
are speaking for them, not for us, who are the
plaintiffs in the action. I deny that they have
any right to plead at all. I deny that they have
RECONSTRUCTION.
545
any standing in court.” For this reason he voted
for the admission of West Virginia, while he still
considered the Richmond legislature the legisla-
ture of Virginia, and ridiculed unsparingly the
action of “the highly respectable but very small
number of the citizens of Virginia, the people of
West Virginia,” who had “assembled together,
disapproved the acts of Virginia, and with the ut-
most self-complacency called themselves Virgin-
ia.” In the same way he voted for every war meas-
ure without leaving any unpleasant precedents
for the final work of reconstruction. Throughout
the war his views were always repudiated by Col-
fax and other leading republicans, and he said in
1863: “I know perfectly well that I do not speak
the sentiments of this side as a party. I know,
that, for the last fifteen years, I have always been
a step ahead of the party I have acted with in
these matters; but I have never been so far ahead
but that the members of the party have overtaken
me and gone ahead, and they will again overtake
me before this rebellion is ended. They will find
that they can not execute the constitution in the
seceding states; that it is a total nullity there; and
that this war must be carried on upon principles
wholly independent of it.” Even in the final
process of reconstruction he took no step back-
ward. In his theory the guarantee clause and
the other constitutional grounds of congressional
action had no place. Congress had omnipotent
power, because the seceding states had repudi-
ated the constitution. If that body chose to offer
mild terms, so much the better for the conquered;
if harsh, no one had a right to complain. Demo-
cratic votes aided him in defeating the offer of
any terms until his own party was so near him
that he could rejoin it with the sacrifice of little
in fact and nothing in theory. This result came
about in December, 1865, when he became the
leader of the joint committee of fifteen on the re-
bellious states; and from that time much of the
work of reconstruction was his own, modified by
the restraining influence of his colleagues. The
fundamental condition of negro suffrage was one
of his purposes, but he persistently advocated even
harsher terms of peace. In a speech at Lancaster,
Pa., in September, 1865, he proposed the confisca-
tion of the estates of rebels worth more than
$10,000 or 200 acres of land, forty acres of land
to be given to each freedman, and the balance,
estimated at $3,500,000,000, to go toward paying
off the national debt. He supposed that only one-
tenth of the whites would lose their property,
while nearly all southern property would be con-
fiscated. This proposition was never formally
considered, but it made Stevens the incarnation of
all evil in the eyes of southerners. His name and
his purposes occur in the debates of all the south-
ern conventions of 1865, and are introduced as in-
centives to the prompt acceptance of the presiden-
tial policy. —5. The Davis-Wade Plan. The adop-
tion of an anti-slavery policy during the war made
necessary the imposition of some condition on re-
Construction; and this condition was first stated
154 VOL III. — 35
in the presidential plan of 1863, in the form of the
Oath to support the anti-slavery proclamations and
laws, as well as the constitution. But, if any such
condition could be imposed, there was practically
no limit in theory to the conditions which might
be imposed: there was no middle ground between
unconditional restoration and the discretion of the
conquering government. The appearance of a
condition in the presidential policy was there-
fore the signal for the appearance of a condi-
tion in congress also. In the president’s policy
no security was asked for the faithful execu-
tion of reconstruction, beyond the taking of the
oath, the oversight of the president, and the
separate action of the houses in admitting mem-
bers. To fill this defect, a bill was privately
drafted in 1863, reported to congress by the com-
mittee on rebellious states, of which Henry Win-
ter Davis and Benj. F. Wade were the leaders,
and came fairly before the house, March 22, 1864.
By its terms the president was to appoint pro-
visional governors, who were to enroll the white
citizens through the aid of United States mar-
shals. When a majority of these citizens in any
state should take the oath of allegiance, they
were to hold a state convention, excluding from
voting or being delegates, all confederate office-
holders and all who had voluntarily borne arms
against the United States. The constitution was
to repudiate the rebel debt, abolish slavery, and
prohibit the higher military and civil office-hold-
ers of the state and confederacy from voting for
or serving as governors or members of the legis-
lature. When this was done, the provisional gov-
ernor was to notify the president; when the assent
of congress was obtained, the president was to
recognize the new government by proclamation;
and then senators and representatives were to be
admitted. It declared forever free the slaves in
seceding states, and made the holding of any
such person in slavery an offense punishable by
fine and imprisonment; but there was still no at-
tempt to introduce negro suffrage. The bill was
defended on the ground that “we are now en-
gaged in suppressing a military usurpation of the
authority of state governments, and our success
will be the overthrow of all semblance of govern-
ment in the rebel states. The government of the
United States will then be in fact the only gov-
ernment existing in those states, and it will be
charged to guarantee them republican govern-
ments. When military opposition shall have been
suppressed, not merely paralyzed, driven into a
corner, and pushed back, but gone, then call upon
the people to reorganize in their own way a repub-
lican government in the form that the people of
the United States can agree to, subject to the con-
ditions that we think essential to our permanent
peace, and to prevent the revival hereafter of the
rebellion.” Its basis was therefore the same as
that of the final congressional plan: that of a war
measure passed, if not bello flagrante, at least bello
mon cessante. Its advocates objected to the presi-
dent's plan for the reason that the latter “pro-
546
RECONSTRUCTION.
posed no guardianship of the United States over
the reorganization of state governments, no law
to prescribe who shall vote, no civil functionaries
to see that the law is faithfully executed, no Su-
pervising authority to control and judge of the
elections.” These defects the Davis-Wade bill
proposed to rectify by the introduction of the
local machinery of marshals, and the final author-
ity and assent or rejection of congress. But who
or what was to prevent reconstructed govern-
ments, after the admission of their senators and
representatives, from amending their constitu-
tions and eliminating the conditions of recon-
struction? Here was the weak point of the bill,
which congress finally endeavored to strengthen
in 1867 by negro suffrage and constitutional
amendment. — The bill was passed by the house,
May 4, by a vote of 73 to 59, but did not come
up in the senate until July 1. On the last day of
the session it was passed by the senate, but the
president refused to sign it for the reason that he
had not sufficient time to examine it. July 8,
1864, he issued a proclamation explaining and
defending his reasons for not signing the bill.
Messrs. Davis and Wade replied in a counter
proclamation “to the supporters of the govern-
ment.” They had read the president's proclama-
tion “without surprise, but not without indigna-
tion.” They asserted, on the contrary, that the
substance of this bill had been before the presi-
dent for more than a year for consideration; that
he himself had intrigued to delay the passage of
the bill so as to obtain an excuse for refusing to
sign it; that senator Doolittle, of Wisconsin, had
written to the Louisiana authorities that the house
bill would be held as long as possible in the sen-
ate, and finally killed by a pocket veto; that the
president’s persistence in his own plan, and his
hostility to that of congress, were both inspired
by the desire to use, if necessary, the electoral
votes of Louisiana and Arkansas to secure his
own election in November, and that an abortive
military expedition into Florida had the same ob-
ject; and they ask, “if those votes turn the bal-
ance in his favor, is it to be supposed that his
competitor, defeated by such means, will ac-
quiesce?” In conclusion they warn the president
that their support “is of a cause, and not of a
man; that the authority of congress is paramount
and must be respected; and that, if he wishes
their support, he must confine himself to his ex-
ecutive duties, to obey and execute, not make the
laws, to suppress armed rebellion by arms, and
leave political reorganization to congress.” In
the following session the bill was again intro-
duced in the house, but it was already obsolete,
and was laid on the table. Instead of it, the bill
of 1865 (see ELECTORs, W.) forbade the count-
ing of electoral votes from any of the seceding
states, for the reason that their inhabitants had
rebelled, and that the states were “in such con-
dition” that no valid election could be held. The
phrase quoted was a compromise between the
views of those who wished to except Louisiana
from the list of states excluded, and of those who
wished to declare explicitly that all the states (in-
cluding Louisiana, Arkansas, Tennessee and Vir-
ginia) were “still in such state of rebellion ” in
November, 1864. Electoral votes were sent by
Louisiana and Tennessee, but were rejected un-
der the law. Thus the whole question was still
left in suspension, and the war ended with no
other preparation for reconstruction than the pol-
icy which Lincoln had inaugurated, and Johnson
was to carry into general effect. — 6. The Con-
gressional Plan. The acceptance of the presiden-
tial policy by the state conventions of Southern
whites was so swift that northern democrats, be-
fore the end of July, 1865, generally supported
the whole scheme as the best practical form of
“restoration,” taking the changes in state consti-
tutions as the voluntary act of the states, not as
conditions imposed by the president. The reso-
lutions of successive state conventions of 1865
show constant change. Democratic resolutions
grow steadily stronger in their approval of the
presidential policy. Republican resolutions grow
steadily more reserved in their approval of the
president and his policy, and steadily stronger in
their approval of “impartial suffrage” as a con-
dition precedent to the reconstruction and recog-
nition of seceding state governments. For this
change in the republican position, there was un-
doubtedly party reason. Stevens said frankly in
1867: “White union men are in a minority in
each of those states. With them the blacks would
act in a body, form a majority, control the states,
and protect themselves. It would insure the as-
cendency of the union party, for I believe, on
my conscience, that on the continued ascendency
of that party depends the safety of this great na-
tion.” But this reason alone, however it might
have controlled the policy of the party, could
never have made that policy a success: it could
never have carried as it did the elections of 1866,
the very crisis of congressional reconstruction.
The controlling reason will be found in the con-
stant irritation kept up by the general cast of the
legislation in regard to freedmen by the recon-
structed legislatures of 1865–6, supplemented by
the indiscreet, unconciliating and inflammatory
tone of the president himself. — In regard to mar-
riage and testimony or standing in court, most of
the southern legislation was alike. Former slaves,
who had cohabited as man and wife were to be
deemed and taken as married, but marriage be-
tween the two races was forbidden under penal-
ties. Negroes were to sue and be sued like whites.
The testimony of a negro was only to be received
in cases where a negro should sue a white, where
a white had injured a negro, or where the rights
of a negro were in question, always provided that
the testimony offered was essential to the case.
Contracts between blacks and whites Were to be
void unless put in writing and witnessed by a
white man. A benevolent exception should be
noticed in the law of Virginia, that contracts be-
tween blacks and whites were not to be binding
RECONSTRUCTION.
547
"upon the black unless put in writing before a mag-
istrate and fully explained by him. The criminal
laws were generally fair and equal, except that rape
of a white woman by a negro was made punishable
by death. In many minor points this species of
legislation was no doubt objectionable. Taken as
a whole, and considered as the work of men who
had within a year been absolute masters of the
freedmen, and who had been dispossessed of their
Control by war and conquest, it must be conceded
that it exhibits remarkable self-control, public
spirit and equity. — The case was very different
with the vagrancy and stay laws passed by most
of the southern legislatures. We have already
noticed that the proclamation of 1863 made “no
objection ” to a temporary regulation of the status
of the freedmen, “as a laboring, landless, home-
Hess class.” On this subject the legislation of
North Carolina, Tennessee and Texas, was com-
paratively unobjectionable. The Virginia act de-
clared all persons vagrants who refused to work
for the wages common and usual in the place
where they lived, or who broke a contract with
an employer, and in the latter case authorized the
employer to work the runaway an additional
month, with ball and chain, if necessary. The
act was revoked by Gen. Terry, Jan. 24, 1866, for
the reason that combinations of employers were
reducing wages below a fair rate, and then pun-
ishing as vagrants the laborers who refused to
accept them. The most comprehensive system
was that of Mississippi, passed at various times
during the last two weeks of November, 1865.
Negroes who were orphans or unsupported were
to be apprenticed until the ages of twenty-one for
males and eighteen for females, and the masters
were to have power to inflict “moderate corporal
chastisement,” and to recapture fugitives. Ne-
groes, or whites habitually associating with ne-
groes, were declared vagrants if they had no
lawful employment, or assembled themselves to-
gether unlawfully. They were to be arrested and
fined, and, if unable to pay the fine, were to be
hired out to the bidder who would pay the fine
for the shortest term of service. The evidence
of a “lawful employment’’ was to be the negro's
written contract for labor, or his license from a
mayor or police board to do job work. These,
renewed annually, were to serve as a pass: with-
out them the negro was a self-confessed vagrant.
All the laws respecting crimes committed by
“slaves, free negroes or mulattoes,” were re-
enacted, and declared to be in full force and effect
against “freedmen, free negroes and mulattoes.”
Any negro who “carried arms without a license,
committed riots, routs, affrays, trespasses, mali-
cious mischiefs or cruel treatment to animals,
seditious speeches, insulting gestures, language or
acts, or assaults on any person, or disturbance of
the peace, or who exercised the functions of a
minister of the gospel without a license from
some regularly ordained church,” was to be fined,
and hired out if unable to pay. Any laborer who
should break his contract, and leave his employer,
was to be arrested and returned to his labor, and
the expenses of the arrest were to be deducted
from the runaway's wages. Any attempt to en-
tice a contract laborer from his employer was
made a finable misdemeanor. The fundamental
features of the Mississippi code, its application of
the vagrant laws to recalcitrant laborers, its hir-
ing out of those unable to pay fines, and its pro-
hibition of the enticing away of laborers, were
adopted by Florida, Alabama and Georgia; but
none of them had by any means so comprehensive
a negro code. In December, 1865, South Caro-
lina adopted a vagrant code much like that of
Mississippi, but with some features of its own.
Persons of color (defined as persons with more
than one-eighth negro blood) were not to pursue
any trade, business or occupation, other than that
of husbandry or contract service, without paying
a fee of $100 a year if a shopkeeper or peddler,
or $10 a year if a mechanic, for a license; and
they were not to sell any farm product without
written license to sell. It was made felony for
any person of color to attempt rape upon a white
woman; for any person under sentence of trans-
portation from the state to return before the end
of his term; or for any person to steal a horse, a
mule, or cotton packed in a bale ready for mar-
ket. No negro was to enter the state to reside
there without giving bonds for his good behavior
and support. The whole code of laws was re-
voked by Gen. Sickles, Jan. 17, 1866. The Lou-
isiana law, in December, 1865, required ‘‘ agri-
Cultural laborers ” to make written contracts for
a year's labor before Jan. 10 in each year, and
forbade the laborer to leave his place of employ-
ment before the end of his time of service, unless
by consent of his employer, or on account of
harsh treatment or breach of contract by the em-
ployer. Refusal to work out the time of contract
was to be punished by forced labor on public
works, unless the offender should consent to re-
turn to his labor. Runaways from an employer
were declared vagrants, and were to be hired out
for not more than twelve months, the employer
having the preference, and the wages to go to the
poor fund. An aggravation of the contrast be-
tween the status of the two races was presented
in those states in which suits of the employer
against the laborer were decided summarily by
arrest and hiring out ; at the same time “stay
laws” operated to postpone execution of judg-
ment in suits at law for one, two, three CT more
years for different fractions of the judgment debt,
so that a laborer had little prospect of satisfaction
from a suit against an employer. — Such legisla-
tion as this is mainly responsible for the recon-
struction of the seceding states by congress. It
forced a very fair observer to conclude, in 1865,
that, if they should “get the troops away and
the states into congress, three-fourths of the coun-
ties in the state [Georgia] would vote for such a
penal code as would practically reduce half the
negroes to slavery in less than a year.” In the
northern states it came to be generally believed
548
RECONSTRUCTION.
that this was the deliberate southern policy; and
this belief carried with it a majority ready to
support congress in any counteracting policy
whatever, no matter how radical. Not that the
vagrant laws worked any great harm in practice:
when they were not formally suspended by the
strong arm of military power, the officers of the
freedmen's bureau (see that title) withheld from
state courts the cognizance of cases in which
freedmen were interested. They served, then,
only as an irritation; and the utter futility of the
irritation only makes its folly the more glaring.
And it was accompanied by other irritations,
smaller, indeed, but perhaps as effective. Almost
the first business of the reconstructed legislatures,
still existing only under military sufferance, was
to pass acts laying special taxes, or setting aside
portions of the state's income, for pensioning
confederate soldiers, widows and orphans; to pass
resolutions demanding the pardon of leading con-
federates; and to change the names of counties
to honor their captured chieftains. In the state
conventions, highly injudicious language had been
used by a few of the more violent delegates; and,
though few of these delegates had been warlike
during the war, their utterances were quotable.
Further, the peculiar action of the North Caro-
lina, South Carolina and Georgia conventions,
which “repealed ” the ordinance of secession,
instead of declaring it null and void, was impru-
dent, to say the least. If it is prudent to build a
Bridge of gold for a flying enemy, it is infinitely
more advisable to avoid irritating a victorious
enemy who is disposed to be at peace. —Before
congress met, in December, 1865, the mass of legis-
lation above summarized had fairly taken shape;
and, as it seemed to look toward the re-establish-
ment of an imperium in imperio, it had already
swung the whole republican party into opposition
to the presidential policy. The elections of 1864
had given the republicans a majority of 40 to 11
in the senate, and 145 to 40 in the house ; and
southern vagrant laws and similar legislation had
at last brought this majority abreast of Stevens
and made him its leader, as he remained until his
death, in 1868. The first step was taken on
the opening day in the house, when the clerk,
McPherson, in calling the roll, declined to call
the names of any of the seceding states, even of
Tennessee, Louisiana and Virginia. He refused
to state his reasons, unless by desire of the louse.
Immediately after the election of a speaker, Ste-
vens offered the concurrent resolution which Con-
tained the essence of reconstruction: that a joint
committee of nine representatives and six senators
should inquire into the condition of the seceding
states, and report whether any of them were
entitled to be represented in either house; that,
until the committee should report and their report
should be finally acted on by congress, no mem-
ber should be received by either house from any
of said states; and that all papers relating to the
matter should be referred to the committee with-
out debate. On this pregnant resolution he called
for the previous question; debate was shut off,
and the resolution was carried by a party vote.
This was a declaration of war against the presi-
dential policy, under which the two houses were
Only to decide separately upon admission of mem-
bers; and the more cautious senate, Dec. 12,
struck out the last two of its three features. The
house agreed, Dec. 14, but pledged itself against
any admissions until the committee should report.
Jan. 8, 1866, the house further resolved that the
troops should not be withdrawn from the seceding
states until the two houses should direct their
withdrawal. The chasm between the president
and the majority in congress rapidly grew wider.
Feb. 20, Stevens again brought up his fundamen-
tal idea in a “concurrent resolution concerning the
insurrectionary states.” It resolved, in order to
close agitation and quiet the uncertainty in the
South, that no senator or representative should be
admitted by either house until congress should
declare the state entitled to representation. This.
was passed at once under the previous question.
March 2, the senate passed it, and the manner,
though not the exact method, of reconstruction,
was settled, so far as congress could then settle it.
— It was by this time an open secret that there
was a very decided disagreement between Presi-
dent Johnson and the party which had elected
him. Had Lincoln been one of the parties to the
disagreement, there can be no doubt that an ad-
justment of ideas would have been arranged:
Johnson preferred to declare war. The occasion
was found, Feb. 22, two days after the passage of
the definitive resolution by the house. A Wash-
ington mass meeting sent a committee to the pres-
ident with resolutions approving his policy. In
his reply he passed beyond the arguments to
which he had hitherto confined himself in public
speeches, the necessity for conciliation, the impos-
sibility of any withdrawal from the Union, and
the right of states to representation. He now pro-
ceeded to attack congress, as having transferred
its powers to “an irresponsible central directory”
(the leaders of the republican caucus); he named
Stevens, Sumner and Wendell Phillips as the
leading northern disunionists; and he even taunt-
ed his opponents with their cowardly unwilling-
ness “to effect the removal of the presidential ob-
stacle otherwise than through the hands of the
assassin.” There is no excuse for such language
in the provocative speeches of several of the rad-
ical republicans in and out of congress. By re-
plying in this fashion, the president only played
into the hands of opponents who never gave away
a point in the game. He aimed at the Stevens
faction, but he only succeeded in alienating the
whole mass of the republican representation.
Thereafter, there was no possibility of co-opera-
tion between the president and this congress. –
At the beginning of the session many amendments
to the constitution had been proposed, intended
to void the rebel debt, and secure the rights of
freedmen, that is, to counteract the southern leg-
islation of 1865–6. One of them, afterward elabo-.
RECONSTRUCTION.
549
rated into section two of the 14th amendment,
was passed by the house, Jan. 31, 1866, but failed
to receive a two-thirds vote in the Senate. The
speech of Feb. 22 not only brought the senate to
agree to the concurrent resolution: it made con-
stitutional amendment possible as well. April
30, Stevens introduced an amendment to the con-
stitution, and a bill providing, that, when this
amendment should become a part of the constitu-
tion, any seceding state which had ratified the
amendment, and altered its constitution in con-
formity therewith, should be entitled to represen-
tation at once. The amendment was that which
in June became the 14th amendment. (See Con-
STITUTION.) It differed from the latter in three
essential points: 1, it had not the first sentence of
section one, declaring who are “citizens of the
United States”; 2, section three forbade all per-
sons who had voluntarily taken part in the rebell-
ion from voting for members of congress or for
electors before July 4, 1870; and 3, it had not the
first sentence of section four, declaring the valid-
ity of the national debt. But the substance of sec-
tion three of the amendment, as finally adopted,
disqualifying certain classes of leaders from hold-
ing office, was contained in a separate bill re-
ported by Stevens at the same time, as an essen-
tial part of the whole plan. In the house the
amendment was passed March 10, by a party vote,
under the previous question. In the senate it
was debated until June 8, when it was passed,
having been altered into its present form, and the
substance of the house disqualifying bill having
been substituted for the original third section.
June 13, the house concurred with the senate's al-
terations, and the amendment was proposed. This
may be considered as closing the first stage of re-
construction by congress. The terms now offered
to the seceding states were the ratification of the
14th amendment, repudiation of the rebel debt,
disqualification of the specified classes of confed-
erate leaders until they should be pardoned by
Congress, and a grant to congress of power to
maintain the civil rights of the freedmen. There
was no effort to control suffrage within the state;
Only an effort to induce the states to grant univer-
Sal Suffrage, and thus increase their representation
in congress. – While this perfecting of the first
Congressional plan was going on, the conflict be-
tween the president and congress had gradually
become open and bitter. A bill to strengthen the
hands of the officers of the freedmen’s bureau (see
that title) in resisting southern legislation, was
passed and vetoed; and as the second vote upon
the vetoed bill took place, in the senate, Feb. 21,
before the president’s declaration of war, it did
not secure a two-thirds vote. The veto of the
civil rights bill (see that title) in March met a differ-
ent fate: the bill was passed at once in both houses
by the necessary two-thirds vote, and became law.
A similar result took place upon the veto of a sec-
Ond and still more stringent freedmen's bureau
bill in July; and, when congress adjourned, it
was very certain that the Southern vagrant laws
had as yet no chance of practical enforcement.
Before the adjournment, Tennessee (see that state)
was restored to representation by joint resolution,
July 24, the Senate so amending the preamble as
to state that “ said state can only be restored to its
former political relations in the Union by consent
of the law-making power of the United States.”
Evidently, the president had been so poor a strat-
egist that he had only succeeded in putting him-
Self, for the present, outside of the “law-making
power " which was to do the work of reconstruc-
tion. Everything depended on the result of the
congressional elections of the autumn, which were
to decide whether the two-thirds republican ma-
jority in congress would be continued after March
3 following. — As one of the means of prepara-
tion for the autumn campaign, the majority of
the committee of fifteen presented a report, June
18, 1866, with a great mass of testimony going to
show the prevalence of disloyalty in the seceding
states. The report asserted that the seceding
states in 1860–61 had deliberately abolished their
state governments and constitutions, So far as
these connected them with the Union; had repudi-
ated the constitution, and renounced their repre-
sentation; that as the constitution acted on indi-
viduals, not on states, the people were still bound
to obedience to the laws, though they had abol-
ished their state governments; that the war could
not be considered as terminated when the people
of the seceding states yielded “an unwilling ad-
mission of the unwelcome fact ’’ of their inability
to resist longer; and that it was an essential con-
dition that such guarantees of future Security
should be given as would be satisfactory to the
law-making power, which, in the law of 1861, had
recognized the existence of rebellion. This, it
will be seen, was not quite the theory of either
Sumner or Stevens: unlike the former, it consid:
ered the states as existing, though their govern-
ments were in a condition of suspended anima-
tion; unlike the latter, it maintained the continued
existence and force of the constitution in the Se-
ceding states. Practically, however, it agreed
with both, in that it made congress the final
arbiter of the guarantees of peace. — The presi-
dent and his supporters had not spent the Winter
in idleness. Early in the year a “national union
club "had been formed in Washington, composed
mainly of republican supporters of the presidential
policy. Its executive committee, June 25, issued
a call for a national convention to meet at Phila-
delphia, Aug. 14, to be composed of northern
delegates, representing the Lincoln and Johnson
vote of 1864, and of southern delegates who would
unite with the former in supporting the presi-
dential policy. July 4, the democratic members
of congress issued an address approving the pro-
posed convention. A request to the members
of the cabinet for their approval was followed by
the resignation of three of them (see ADMINISTRA-
TIONs, XX.) the rest were as yet a unit in support
of the president. The convention met as pro-
posed, John A. Dix, of New York, being tempo-
550
RECONSTRUCTION.
rary chairman, senator Doolittle, of Wisconsin,
president, and Henry J. Raymond, of New York
(chairman of the republican national committee),
chairman of the committee on resolutions. The
resolutions fully sustained the president and his
policy. The somewhat theatrical entrance of the
delegates to the building, headed by the delegates
from Massachusetts and South Carolina, enabled
its opponents to give it the nick-name of the
“arm-in-arm convention.” But it was certainly
a well-contrived political movement, and the first
prospects of its effectiveness are shown by the
anger aroused against its supposed contrivers,
Seward and Raymond. The latter was expelled
by the republican national committee, and the
former was specially denounced in almost every
republican platform. — With the first prospects
of success, however, the president’s public lan-
guage became more indiscreet than ever. In his
answer to the committee which brought him the
Philadelphia resolutions he said: “We have wit-
nessed in one department of the government every
effort, as it were, to prevent the restoration of
peace and harmony in the Union. We have seen
hanging on the verge of the government, as it
were, a body called, or which assumes to be, the
congress of the United States, but in fact a con-
gress of only part of the states. We have seen
this congress assume and pretend to be for the
Union, when its every step and act tended to per-
petuate disunion, and make a disruption of the
states inevitable.” Indeed, his pugnacity had
so far gained the upper hand of his discretion
that he even gratified his congressional opponents
by descending personally into the arena. He
chose this most inopportune of all seasons for an
excursion to Chicago, for the purpose of lay-
ing the corner-stone of the Douglas monument.
Starting Aug. 28, with a large party, includ-
ing three of his cabinet, General Grant, Admi-
ral Farragut, and others, he made speeches at
various points from New York city to Chicago,
and thence to St. Louis, Sept. 8; and the matter
and manner of his speeches grew worse from the
beginning. It was alleged that his opponents
hired men to irritate and provoke him to indiscre-
tions; but such a political manoeuvre was entirely
unnecessary. An extract from his Cleveland
speech of Sept. 3 will serve as evidence that the
president’s own temper was the source of a large
part of the scandalous interchange of vitupera-
tion between himself and his audiences, which
disgraced his progress: “I came here as I was
passing along, and have been called upon for the
purpose of exchanging views, and ascertaining,
if we could, who was wrong. [Cries of ‘It’s
you.’] Who can come and place his finger on
one pledge I ever violated, or one principle I ever
proved false to? [A voice, ‘How about New
Orleans?’ Another voice, ‘Hang Jeff. Davis.’]
Hang Jeff. Davis, he says. [Cries of ‘No,' and
‘Down with him.’] Hang Jeff. Davis, he says.
[A voice, ‘Hang Thad. Stevens and Wendell
Phillips.’] Hang Jeff. Davis. Why do n’t you
hang him? [Cries of ‘Give us the opportunity.’]
Have nºt you got the court? Have n’t you got.
the attorney general 2 [A voice, ‘Who is your
chief justice who has refused to sit upon the
trial?' I am not the chief justice. I am not.
the prosecuting attorney. [Cheers.] I am not
the jury. I will tell you what I did do. I called
upon your congress that is trying to break up the
government—[cheers, mingled with Oaths and
hisses. Great confusion. “Do n’t get mad, Andy.’]
Well, I will tell you who is mad. “Whom the
gods wish to destroy, they first make mad.” Did
your congress order any of them to be tried?
[Three cheers for congress.] * * [A voice,
“Traitor.’] I wish I could see that man. I would
bet you now, that, if the light fell on your face,
cowardice and treachery would be seen in it.
Show yourself. Come out here where I can see
you. [Shouts of laughter.] * The colloquies be-
tween the president and his hearers grew more
unpleasant as the trip went on, but, nothing.
daunted, the president continued speaking, and
playing into the hands of his opponents to the
end. — July 30, 1866, the report of the majority
of the reconstruction committee received an un-
expected indorsement. An attempt was made on
that day to revise the constitution of Louisiana.
(see that state) by reassembling the adjourned
convention of 1864, in New Orleans. The con-
vention’s leaders are described by the military
commander, Sheridan, as “intemperate political
agitators and revolutionary men,” whom he him-
self intended to arrest on the first overt act.
against the public peace. But the city authorities.
saved him the trouble, dispersing the convention
“with firearms, clubs and knives, in a manner,”
says Sheridan, “so unnecessary and atrocious as,
to compel me to say that it was murder.” About
forty whites and blacks were thus killed, and 160.
wounded. When the smoke of the congressional
elections had cleared away, it was found that the
republican majority had hardly been changed in
numbers: in the next congress it would be 42 to
12 in the senate, and 143 to 49 in the house. This.
was more than sufficient to override the presi-
dent's veto, and continue to keep the president
out of reckoning as part of the “law-making
power.” In personnel the new majority was still
more pronounced and united than the old major-
ity in opposition to the presidential policy. —
When congress met in December, 1866, the ma-
jority came as victors, not as combatants; and
their first and natural impulse was to Superadd
punitive damages. Their first terms, of June,
had been rejected: the defeated party was now to
pay the penalty of the refusal in the imposition
of negro suffrage upon reconstruction. This had
always been an essential feature of the Sumner
and Stevens programmes, but now for the first.
time the party majority was united by stress of
conflict in support of it. An effort was at Once
made to impeach the president, but it at first was.
abortive. (See IMPEACHMENTS, WI.) The repub.
lican caucus at once took place as the practical
RECONSTRUCTION.
551
governing body of the nation. It requested the
Senate to reject the appointments made by the
president for political reasons during the recess,
and its executive committee was directed to pre-
pare business for congress. The committee rap-
idly reported several bills, which were passed un-
der the previous question. 1. The act of Jan.
22, 1867, directed succeeding congresses to meet
at noon of March 4. This was to prevent the
president from enjoying any nine months inter-
regnum in future. 2. The act of Feb. 19 directed
the clerk of the house to make out the roll of
representatives elected to the next congress, and
to place thereon the names of only such states as
were represented in the next preceding congress.
This was to anticipate the possible formation of
a pseudo congress, composed of northern demo-
crats and southern claimants, which might be
formed and recognized by the president. 3. The
tenure of office act (see TENURE OF OFFICE) lim-
ited the president’s power of removal, which had
been made a political weapon during the campaign.
4. The advanced feeling on the subject of suf-
frage was shown in the passage of acts establish-
ing universal suffrage in the District of Columbia,
Jan. 8, in the territories, Jan. 24, and in the ad-
mission of the state of Nebraska, Feb. 9, the first
and third being passed over the veto. (See also
COLORADO.) 5. In passing the army appropria-
tion bill, in February, a section was added which
practically took the command of the army from
the president, gave it to Gen. Grant, and made
him irremovable. (See RIDERs.) This step was
indefensible on any theory. All these measures,
however, were only adjuncts of the real business
of the session, the consummation of the work of
reconstruction. — Between October, 1866, and
February, 1867, the legislatures of all the seced-
ing states, except Tennessee, rejected the 14th
amendment by votes nearly or quite unanimous.
This action had a double result: as a final rejec-
tion of the first terms of reconstruction, it made
Subsequent terms more severe; and, as it showed
the absolute impossibility of obtaining the ratifica-
tion of the 14th amendment by three-fourths of
the (then) thirty-six states while the ten southern
states remained in statu quo, it forced congress to
choose between the presidential policy and negro
suffrage. So evidently ready was congress to
make the choice, that, in February, 1867, an
official effort, indorsed by the president, was made
to induce the southern legislatures to propose an
amendment of their own. It was the 14th amend-
ment without the disqualifying clause, but with
a new clause forbidding a state to secede, or the
federal government to eject a state or deprive it
of its representation in congress. The plan also
included the amendment of each state constitu-
tion by giving the right of suffrage to all male
citizens who could read and write, and owned
$250 worth of taxable property. The amend-
ment was offered in the legislatures of Alabama
and North Carolina, but their refusal to consider
it put an end to the proposal. In the meantime,
congress had gone on with its work. Dec. 13,
1866, Stevens introduced a bill to reconstruct the
government of North Carolina, giving the right
of Suffrage to males able to read and write. Jan.
3, 1867, he called up, in place of the former, a
general reconstruction bill. It was sent to the
reconstruction committee, which reported, Feb.
6, the bill finally adopted. Here there was some
republican hesitation. Blaine offered an amend-
ment promising representation on the terms of
June, 1866; but this was voted down by demo-
crats and radical republicans, and the bill was
passed by a vote of 109 to 55. In the senate the
Blaine amendment was offered by Sherman, and
carried ; but the house refused to concur, the
democrats and radical republicans again voting
in company. The only result of this temporary
republican division was that the majority now
reunited, and passed the bill, given below, with-
out the Blaine amendment, and with the far more
stringent fifth and sixth sections, which were not
in the original bill. The final votes, Feb. 20,
were 128 to 46 in the house, and 35 to 7 in the
Senate. —7. Fºrst Reconstruction Bill. The pre-
amble of the “act to provide for the more efficient
government of the rebel states,” recited that no
legal state governments, or adequate protection
for life and property, now existed in those states,
and that it was necessary that peace and good
order should be enforced in them until loyal and
republican state governments could be legally
established. The six sections were as follows:
1. The states were to be made subject to the mili-
tary authority of the United States, and divided
into the following districts: I., Virginia; II.,
North and South Carolina; III., Georgia, Florida
and Alabama; IV., Mississippi and Arkansas; W.,
Louisiana and Texas. 2. The president was to
appoint the commanding officer of each district,
not to be below the rank of brigadier general,
and furnish him sufficient military force. 3. The
commanding officer was “to protect all persons
in their rights of person and property, to sup-
press insurrection, disorder and violence,” either
by military commission, or by allowing local
courts to act; “and all interference, under color
of state authority, with the exercise of military
authority under this act, shall be null and void.”
4. Trials were to be without unnecessary delay;
punishments were not to be cruel or unusual;
and sentences of military commissions were to be
approved by the commanding officer, or, if they
involved death, by the president. 5. The people
of any state might hold a delegate convention,
elected by the male citizens of the state on One
year's residence, excluding only those disfran-
chised for participation in the rebellion, or for
felony at common law; but no person excluded
from holding office by the proposed 14th amend-
ment was to vote for delegates or become a delegate.
The constitution framed by the convention was to
give the elective franchise to those citizens who
were allowed to vote for delegates, and was to be
ratified by a popular vote under the same condi-
552
RECONSTRUCTION.
tions of suffrage. When these conditions were
fulfilled, when congress had approved the consti-
tution, when the new legislature had ratified the
14th amendment, and when that amendment
should become part of the constitution, the state
was to be entitled to representation in congress.
6. Until thus reconstructed, the civil governments
of the rebel states were to be “deemed provisional
only, and in all respects subject to the paramount
authority of the United States at any time to
abolish, modify, control or supersede the same ; ”
and, “in all elections under such provisional gov-
ernments,” the only voters or office-holders were
to be those entitled by this act to vote or hold
office. — The bill was vetoed, March 2. The
message denied the truth of the preamble ; pro-
tested against the bill as a needless and utterly
unconstitutional attempt to establish an unre-
strained military despotism over part of the coun-
try in a time of profound peace ; and appealed to
congress to admit loyal and qualified members
from all the states. The bill was passed over the
veto the same day, the vote being a strictly party
vote, except that Senator Reverdy Johnson voted
in the affirmative. It may be considered the sec-
ond stage of reconstruction. Military government
was to be established, but the reconstruction was
still to be done by the state, subject to the final
approval of congress. In order to induce such
action by the state, its citizens were given the
option of a surrender of civil government or vol-
untary reconstruction; for the sixth section, apply-
ing the principle of the bill to “all elections,” made
reconstruction ultimately inevitable, if elections
were to take place. It is certain that several states
were moving in the direction of voluntary recon-
struction when the new congress, which met
March 4, 1867, anticipated them and hastened the
process. – 8. Supplementary Reconstruction, Bill.
March 19, the new congress passed an act in nine
Sections, as follows: 1. Before Sept. 1, 1867, dis-
trict commanders were to register male citizens
qualified to vote under the act, taking from each
registered voter an oath that he was qualified by
residence and age, and that he had never engaged
in rebellion after taking the oath of allegiance as
member of any state legislature or of congress, or
as an officer, executive or judicial, of the United
States or of any state. 2. The district commander
was to hold an election for delegates, equal in
number to the lower house of the state legislature,
and apportioned according to registration. 3. The
Question of holding a convention was to be decided
at the same election. 4. If a majority of regis-
tered voters consent to the convention, the district
Commander was to give the delegates sixty days’
notice of the time and place of meeting; and when
the constitution was framed he was to give thirty
days' notice of an election to ratify or reject it.
5. When the constitution was ratified, it was to
be sent to the president, and by him sent to con-
gress. If congress approved it as in conformity
with the reconstruction acts, the state was to be
declared entitled to representation, and her sen-
good evidence of his right to register.
ators and representatives were to be admitted. 6.
All elections were to be by ballot, and false swear-
ing was to be punished as perjury. 7. The ex-
penses of the commanding officer were provided
for. 8. The convention in each state was to have
the power of taxation to meet its own expenses.
9. A verbal mistake in the original act was cor-
rected. — This may be considered the third stage
of reconstruction by congress. Its essential point
of difference was that the work of reconstruction
was now taken out of the hands of the state, and
given to the military commander. In brief, it
was, so far as the state was concerned, involun-
tary reconstruction. — II. THE WORK OF RECON-
STRUCTION. March 11, 1867, the president ap-
pointed the district commanders; and the ap-
pointees, Generals Schofield, Sickles, Thomas, Ord
and Sheridan at once took command of the five
districts in the order given. March 15, Thomas
was replaced by Pope. . In all the districts the
first order was generally an announcement of the
assumption of command; and a general direction
to the “officers under the existing provisional
government” of the state to perform their duties
as usual until otherwise directed, though the legis-
latures were forbidden to meet in the following
autumn. Then came a notice that whipping and
maiming in punishment of crime must cease, and
that the militia must be disbanded. Then came
the appointment of boards of registration, and the
notification of the test oath; the election of dele-
gates; the meeting of the convention ; and the
framing of the new state constitution. The ma-
chinery worked with comparatively little friction.
The whites were in no condition for forcible re-
sistance; and when state treasurers or other officers
attempted to balk the work in any way, they
were promptly removed, and replaced by civilians
or military appointees. The state of Mississippi
attempted to obtain from the supreme court an
injunction forbidding the president and Gen. Ord
from executing the reconstruction acts, but the
court refused it, April 15, on the ground that it
could not thus interfere with the purely political
acts of another department of the government.
(See ExECUTIVE, IV.) The attorney general gave
an opinion, which practically bound the boards of
registration to take the oath of an applicant as
. This and
other impediments to reconstruction were removed
by the supplementary act of July 19, 1867. It
gave district commanders and Gen. Grant power
to suspend, remove and replace any state officers
who should hinder reconstruction ; empowered
boards of registration to take evidence, strike off
names fraudulently entered, and add names en-
titled to registry; and provided that no district
commander or his appointees should be “bound
in his action by the opinion of any civil officer of
the United States.” The Alabama constitution
was ratified by less than half of the registered
vote. The supplementary act of March 11, 1868,
therefore, provided that reconstruction elections
should be decided by a majority of the votes actu-
RECONSTRUCTION.
553
ally cast. —In all the states the local work of re-
construction went on rapidly. The first of the
conventions, in Alabama, met Nov. 5, 1867, and the
others followed at various intervals. (Their time
of meeting, action, and the ratifications, will be
found under the several states.) The constitutions
agreed in abolishing slavery, repudiating the rebel
debt, renouncing the claim of a right to secede,
declaring the ordinance of secession null and void,
giving the right of Suffrage to all male citizens
over twenty-one years of age on a residence quali-
fication, and prohibiting the passage of laws to
abridge the privileges of any class of citizens.
Further, all the constitutions, except those of
North Carolina, Florida and Georgia, disfran-
chised all who were disqualified from holding
office by the (proposed) 14th amendment. This
disfranchising clause caused the rejection of the
constitution in Mississippi, while in Texas and
Virginia the popular sentiment was so adverse that
no submission to popular vote was ventured on
as yet. In the other states, as rapidly as possible,
legislatures and governors were elected. the for-
mer met and ratified the 14th amendment; and
the latter were formally appointed military gov-
ernors until reconstruction could be completed.
June 22, 1868, an act of congress approved the
constitution of Arkansas as republican, and ad-
mitted the state to representation on the funda-
mental condition that the grant of universal suf-
frage should never be revoked. June 25, a similar
act admitted North Carolina, South Carolina,
Florida, Georgia, Alabama and Louisiana. July
20, 1868, an act to exclude electoral votes from
unreconstructed states was passed over the veto.
— The 14th amendment thus secured the requisite
number of state ratifications, and an act of June
25, 1868, directed the president to announce the
fact by proclamation. July 11, he issued a labori-
Ously ambiguous proclamation, announcing Seria-
tºm the reception of “papers purporting to be
resolutions of the legislatures” of the various
states, attested by the names of various persons
“who therein sign themselves” governor, pres-
ident of the Senate, etc.; and July 20, Secretary
Seward issued an equally ambiguous proclama-
tion, detailing the ratifications and the withdrawals
of Ohio and New Jersey, and announcing that,
if these withdrawals were invalid, the amendment
was a part of the constitution. Subsequently
(see CoNSTITUTION, III.) he issued another procla-
mation, free from ambiguity. In the presidential
election of 1868 the two parties, of course, took
opposite grounds. The republican platform con-
gratulated the country on the assured success of
the reconstruction policy of congress. The demo-
cratic platform, while it recognized the questions
of slavery and secession as settled by the war, de-
clared ‘‘the reconstruction acts (so called) of con-
gress to be usurpations and unconstitutional, revo-
lutionary and void.” This declaration was em-
phasized by the Brodhead letter, June 30, 1868,
Of the democratic nominee for vice-president,
Blair : “There is but one way to restore the
constitution and the government, and that is, for
the president elect to declare these acts null and
void, compel the army to undo its usurpations
at the South, disperse the carpet-bag state gov.
ernments, and allow the white people to reor-
ganize their own governments, and elect sena-
tors and representatives.” The country was not
ready for such a programme, and, the presiden-
tial and congressional elections of 1868 resulted
in renewed republican success. – Much suspic-
ion had been felt by congressional leaders as
to the action which the Supreme court would
take if the constitutionality of reconstruction
should come legitimately before it. (See JUDICI-
ARY, II.) Early in 1868 such an occasion seemed
probable on an appeal from Mississippi on a writ
of habeas corpus sued out by one McArdle, who
had been convicted by a reconstruction military
commission. To meet this danger, Stevens at
first reported from the reconstruction committee
a bill declaring that the jurisdiction of the su-
preme court should not extend to reconstruction
legislation. This met little favor, and instead of
it the act of March 27, 1868, passed over the veto,
repealed the supreme court’s statutory jurisdic-
tion over appeals on habeas corpus. The ques-
tion, however, could not be kept down, and in
the December term of 1868, in the case of Texas
w8. White, the court decided in favor of congress.
During the rebellion Texas had sold a number of
the bonds given her by the United States in 1850
(see COMPROMISES, W.), and the new state gov-
ernment sought an injunction to prevent pay-
ment to the purchasers. As Texas was still unre-
constructed, the court agreed, that, if she was
not a state, the suit must be dismissed, so that the
whole suit turned on this point. The court held
that the Union was “an indestructible Union of
indestructible states”; that Ordinances of secession
were null and void, but that the states which
passed them did not cease to be states of the
Union; that their own act of rebellion had sus-
pended their governmental relations to the United
States; that congress must decide, as in the Rhode
Island case (see DORR REBELLION), what govern-
ment is established, before it can decide whether
it is republican or not; that reconstruction by
congress was valid; and that the governments in-
stituted by the president were provisional only,
to continue until congress could act in the prem-.
ises. This was not the Sumner nor the Stevens,
but the congressional, theory. It is fully summed
up in an opinion of attorney general E. R. Hoar,
of May 31, 1869: “The same authority which
recognized the existence of the war is the only
authority having the constitutional right to deter-
mine when, for all purposes, the war has ceased.
The act of March 2, 1867, was a legislative decla-
ration that the war which sprang from the rebell-
ion was not, to all intents and purposes, ended;
and that it should be held to continue until state
governments, republican in form, and subordi-
nate to the constitution and laws, should be estab-
lished.” It is, therefore, not correct to Say that
554.
RECONSTRUCTION.
the precedents of reconstruction give congress
the right to reconstruct any state government at
pleasure. Such a reconstruction can only come
as the result of a rebellion recognized as such by
the national authority, and ending in the Over-
throw of the state government with the rebellion.
For example, the republican state convention of
Maryland, Feb. 27, 1867, denounced the proposed
state convention (see MARYLAND), and threatened,
if it were persisted in, to appeal to congress for a
reconstruction of the state government. The
threat was carried into effect, March 25, when
a reconstruction memorial from the republican
members of the state legislature was offered in
congress; but congress very consistently declined
to interfere. — Some additional work remained to
be done, for reconstruction still hung fire in Tex-
as, Mississippi and Virginia. The act of April
10, 1869, therefore authorized the president to
call elections in those states for the ratification or
rejection of their new state constitutions, submit-
ting such sections as he pleased to a separate vote;
but, as punitive terms for their delay, the new
legislatures were required to ratify the proposed
15th as well as the 14th amendment. This may
be considered the fourth and final stage of recon-
struction by congress. In the states named, the
objectionable clauses were voted down, the rest
of the constitution was ratified, the legislatures
fulfilled the conditions required, and the states
were admitted by the acts of Jan. 26 (Virginia),
Feb. 23 (Mississippi), and March 30, 1870 (Texas).
In the same year, however, an attempted evasion
of conditions by Georgia (see that state) brought
her into the same position as the three states last
named; and it was not until Jan. 30, 1871, that
all the states were represented in both houses of
congress, for the first time since 1860. Recon-
struction by congress was then completed. — For
the impeachment of President Johnson, see IM-
PEACHMENTS, WI. ; for the 15th amendment, see
SUFFRAGE. – III. THE FAILURES OF RECON-
STRUCTION. Prophets were not wanting who
predicted the speedy collapse of the highly arti-
ficial governmental edifices erected by congress
in the southern states. Certainly he must have
been a very short-sighted person who expected
from them an immediate and permanent establish-
ment of the freedmen in all the new privileges
granted to them. If the weapon of suffrage,
which the white race had secured only after cen-
turies of arduous struggle, could be safely and
surely wielded by a race which had hardly ever
known any condition other than slavery, we must
certainly rank slavery, as an educating process,
higher than we have been accustomed to place it.
And, on the other hand, if the pyramid must be
supported on its apex by national power, it was
not to be expected that the country would allow
all other business to lapse, and wage an eternal
war of irritations on behalf of a helpless race.
Plainly, if southern resistance should be open,
the south would be reconquered every decade;
and if Southern resistance was guarded but per-
sistent, negro suffrage was destined, sooner or
later, to at least a temporary eclipse. — In almost
all the states the downward career of the recon-
structed governments was short and swift. Until
the negro legislators learned the machinery of
politics, they submitted with patience to the guid-
ance of white leaders, generally northern immi-
grants, or “carpet-baggers,” and these endeavored
with considerable success to keep up at least a
semblance of the decent methods to which they
had been accustomed. But the negro showed an
astonishing quickness in learning the tactics of
politics, in grasping the shell while ignoring the
kernel. Points of order, parliamentary rulings,
filibustering methods, the means of putting fraud
into a fair legislative form, almost immediately
became as familiar to the negroes as to any other
experts in legislation; and then the state treasu-
ries lay at the mercy of a race whose incorrigible
and notorious vice, during slavery, had always.
been theft. No storming force ever made quick-
er work of a captured city. Most of the “carpet-
bag” leaders yielded to the current, and took a.
share of the spoils. The impoverished treasuries
were instantly swept clean. The issue of bonds
was then resorted to, except in states like Missis-
sippi, whose bonds were unsalable through pre-
vious repudiation; and in this process the lion's
share fell to the more expert white leaders. In
one state, South Carolina, the debt rose from
about $5,000,000 in 1868 to nearly $30,000,000 in
1872; and about $20,000,000 of this amount were
issued by the governor by virtue of a legislative
permission to issue $2,000,000. In almost any
state, a lobby rich enough to purchase the legis-
lators could secure the passage of an act issuing
state bonds in aid of a railroad, supplemented by
a subsequent act releasing the state's lien On the
road, the whole making up an absolute gift of the
money. But the land, which must ultimately be
taxed for the payment of such gifts, remained in
the hands of the whites. Under universal suf-
frage, made harsher by a partial white disfran-
chisement, the whites were helpless, so long as
they observed the forms of law; and in the con-
flict of interests the forms of law went down. —
At first the struggle was mainly peaceful. Negro
voters were paid to remain at home on election
day, or were induced to do so by threats of loss
of work; negro leaders were bribed to wink at
false counting or registration; and when the
whites had thus carried the legislature, measures
were enacted to secure white control of the gov-
ernment in future. In this manner the govern-
ment fell into white hands in Tennessee in 1869,
in North Carolina in 1870, and in Texas, Georgia
and Virginia from their first reconstruction in
1870–71. All these were states in which the
white vote (see ConsBRVATIVES) only needed
union to become dominant. Alabama and Ar-
kansas were much more difficult states, but here
the reconstructed governments went down in
1874, after a struggle of some two years, in the
course of which actual violence became a political
RECONSTRUCTION,
555,
factor. Four states were now left, South Caro-
lina, Florida, Mississippi and Louisiana, in which
the reconstructed governments held their ground.
In apparent despair of other means, the “Missis-
sippi plan” was begun in that state in 1875. It
was only an amplification of the violent means
which had never been left entirely out of calcula-
tion. (See INSURRECTION, II.) Much of its suc-
cess was no doubt due to a change of the negro
vote. H. R. Revels, the colored United States
senator of the state, thus wrote to President
Grant in 1876: “Since reconstruction, the masses
of my people have been enslaved in mind by un-
principled adventurers. My people are naturally
republicans, but, as they grow older in freedom,
so do they in wisdom. A great portion of them
have learned that they were being used as tools,
and, as in the late election, they determined, by
casting their ballots against these unprincipled
adventurers, to overthrow them.” On the other
hand, the evidence that violence was the finally
effective factor is not only overwhelming, but
confessed. Bands of horsemen, armed and in
uniform, attended and overawed negro meetings;
and the roads were picketed to prevent the free
transit of negro organizers. Actual violence to
the mass of voters was unnecessary, beyond a
few midnight whippings. The negro vote was
helpless without its leaders and organizers, and
the Mississippi plan was to strike only at the
tallest. Actual murders do not seem to have
been numerous, but they were tremendous in
their effects from the position of the victims.
There were now left but three states, and in these
the Mississippi plan was put into practice in
1876 with a similar success. But in these the
“returning boards” (see that title) prolonged the
struggle beyond the election, and threw the whole
presidential election of that year into confusion.
(See ELECTORAL COMMISSION, FLORIDA, LOUIS-
IANA, SOUTH CAROLINA.) As soon as President
Hayes was seated, in 1877, the last vestige of the
congressional scheme of reconstruction disap-
peared from the surface.—In each state the negro
vote was practically suppressed after the over-
throw of the reconstructed government. The vio-
lence did not necessarily continue in active oper-
ation; the negro vote was in part cast and counted,
and negro local officers and even congressmen
were occasionally elected. But every one knew
that the negro vote would be tolerated just far
enough to insure a permanent union of the white
vote, and no further.
significant smallness of the vote in most of the
reconstructed states. In 1880, for example, the
congressional districts were each supposed to con-
tain at least 131,400 inhabitants, which should
have furnished over 30,000 voters. Alabama and
Wisconsin correspond very closely in population,
and each has eight congressmen. In 1880 the
votes in these districts were as follows: Alabama,
18,645; 22,207; 16,319; 17,644; 11,219; 10,043;
19,146; 25,573: Wisconsin, 31,167; 30,875; 29,226;
32,737; 32,926; 38,435; 35,855; 33,894. It thus
The results are seen in the
appears, that, on the same census population, Wis-
consin furnishes 265,115 voters, an average of
33,139 to a district, while Alabama has but 140,796.
voters, an average of 17,599 to a district. It is
difficult to find more than one controlling expla-
nation for this essential difference. —It must not.
be understood that the “subversion of the re-
constructed governments” included any essential
change in the reconstructed constitutions. These
remained formally unaltered, so far as the funda-
mental conditions of readmission were concerned,
though most of the states have revised their con-
stitutions in non-essentials. The Supreme court
has decided that the state, on accepting readmis-
sion, is estopped from denying the validity of the
conditions; and the federal judiciary, with the
enlarged powers given to it since 1860, would un-
doubtedly make short work with any attempt to
repudiate the conditions of reconstruction. The
organic law is unchanged: the revolution has taken
place beneath the surface. — Force Bills. At the
first indication of attack by violence upon the re-
constructed governments, congress took steps to
defeat the attempt. A bill for the enforcement of
the last two amendments, commonly called the
force bill, was introduced, passed by strict party
votes, and became law May 31, 1870. It made
punishable by fine and imprisonment, or both,
with exclusive cognizance to the United States.
courts, the following offenses: hindering any per-
son in the performance of registration or any other
qualification for voting; refusing to give full effect
to any person’s vote; preventing, or confederating
with others to prevent, by force, threats or bribery,
any person from qualifying or voting; conspiring
to go in disguise upon the highway, or upon the
premises of another with intent to deprive any
citizen of his constitutional rights; personating
other voters, voting or registering illegally, or in-
terfering with election officers at congressional
elections or the registration therefor; violations of
state or federal election laws by state or federal
officials; and violations of the civil rights act (see:
that title) of 1866, which was expressly re-enacted.
April 20, 1871, a far stronger force bill was enact-
ed. (See INSURRECTION, II.; KU-KLUx KLAN ;.
HABEAS CORPUs; SUFFRAGE.) It was directed
particularly at conspiracies against the civil rights.
legislation; its second (or conspiracy) section, how-
ever, was decided to be unconstitutional by the
supreme court, Jan. 22, 1883. Its fourth section,
providing that such conspiracies, when connived
at by the state authorities, should be “deemed
a rebellion against the government of the United
States,” and be suppressed by the president by the
suspension of the writ of habeas corpus and the
use of the army and navy, was to expire at the end
of the next session of congress. In May, 1872, an
attempt was made to extend it for another session.
It passed the senate, but the house refused to Con-
sider it. The refusal seems to have been largely
due to a belief in the house that the ku-klux dis-
orders had subsided. It must be noticed that this
section of the act of 1871 was really a first step
556
REFUNDING OF PUBLIC DEBT OF UNITED STATES.
toward a recognition of a new rebellion, and the
result would have been, as before stated, a new
reconstruction, if the casus belli had not been re-
moved. This standing rule of American consti-
tutional law, the necessary consequence of the re-
Construction precedents, makes a singular paradox:
we must repudiate state sovereignty; and yet we
must hold that a state can practically declare and
Wage war, be warred against by the nation, and,
if conquered, be subjected to the laws of war. —
IV. THE SUCCESSES OF RECONSTRUCTION. We
have described the southern legislation of 1866–7.
The infinitely milder and more equitable legisla-
tion which followed the successful seizure of
power by the white race in the different states, in
1869–77, is of itself a proof that reconstruction
Was, in an essential point, a success. It gave the
freedmen a status as men which, if not altogether
Satisfactory, is more than they could have hoped
for in a century under the simple restoration pol-
icy. If the ballot is a nullity to the negro, his
other rights are not; and he owes this to recon-
struction. Further, the ballot itself will not al-
ways be a nullity. There stands the unchanged
and unchangeable organic law of the states, wait-
ing for the time when the negro shall be ready for
the right of suffrage; and we may be sure that the
recognition of his readiness will come far sooner
and more easily by reason of the fact that it has
nothing to fight against in the state constitutions.
—We have noticed, also, the portentous reappear-
ance of the seceding states, after their reconstruc-
tion by the president, as an imperium in Šmperio.
It would have been an impossibility for southern
representatives under that régime, however honest
their intentions, to divest themselves suddenly of
the prejudices and traditions of a lifetime's train-
ing, and come back in full sympathy with the
economic laws which were thenceforth to attach
to their Own section as well as to the rest of the
Country. They must, then, have returned as a
Compact phalanx of irreconcilables, sure of their
ground at home, and a permanent source of irri-
tation, sectional strife and positive danger to the
rest of the country. All this was ended by re-
construction. This process, to speak simply, and
perhaps brutally, gave the southern whites enough
to attend to at home, until a new generation
should grow up with more sympathy for the new,
and less for the old. The energies which might
have endangered the national peace were drawn
off to a permanent local struggle for good govern-
ment and Security of property. Whatever may be
alleged on humanitarian grounds against a policy
which for a time converted some of the states into
political hells, it must be confessed that the policy
was a success, and that it secured the greatest
good of the greatest number. — See, in general,
McPherson's Political History of the Rebellion, and
History of the Reconstruction (see index for states,
speeches, messages and legislation); 2 Williams’
FIistory of the Negro Race; Congressional Globe,
1861–72; Congressional Record, 1872–3; Hurd's
Theory of our National Evistence (index under
Reconstruction); Appleton's Annual Cyclopædia,
1861–77; Fisher's Thial of the Constitution, 200;
Brownson's American Republic, 309; McClellan’s
Republicanism ºn America, 12 Stat. at Large, 255
(Law of 1861); Intermational Review, Jan., 1875
(Guarantee clause); 16 Atlantic Monthly, 238,
17:237, and 18 : 761; (I.), Cox's Eight Years ºn
Congress, 370; Gillet’s Democracy in America, 304;
Harris’ Political Conflict in America, 359; Pollard's
Lost Cause Regained; Taylor's Destruction and Re-
construction; 2 Stephens' War Between the States,
612 (Hampton Roads conference), 806 (Sherman-
Johnston memorandum); Raymond's Life and State
Papers of Lincoln, 455, 685; 37 Atlantic Monthly,
21; Welles’ Lincoln and Seward, 6–12 Sumner's
Works ; 12 Atlantic Monthly, 507; Callender's
Thaddeus Stevens, Commoner; 4 Appleton's An-
mual Cyclopædia, 307 (Davis-Wade manifesto);
Andrews' South Since the War (1866); Report of
the Joint Committee on Reconstruction, Report of
the Select Committee on the New Orleans Riot, Bout-
well’s Speeches; Barnes' 39th and 40th Congresses;
100 Worth American Review, 540; The Case of W.
H. McArdle; Pike's The Prostrate State; and au-
thorities under articles referred to.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
REFUGE, Right of. (See Asylum.)
REFUNDING OF THE PUBLIC DEBT OF
THE UNITED STATES. On July 1, 1860, the
national debt was $64,769,703. It consisted of a
loan of $20,000,000 authorized June 14, 1858,
and payable in 1874; a nearly equal sum of treas-
ury notes, issued to meet the conditions resulting
from the monetary crisis of 1857, and redeema-
ble at pleasure; and a number of old loans issued
between 1842 and 1848, all of which fell due
within the next eight years. During the year
1860 a loan for $21,000,000 had been authorized,
for the purpose of redeeming the Outstanding
treasury notes, and, bearing 5 per cent. interest,
was sold at about par. The economic condition
of the country was excellent. The crops were
good, and the exports of domestic produce large.
The federal system of taxation was extremely
simple, duties on imports and sales of public lands
being the two important sources of revenue, while
any deficits that might occur were covered by
loans. Excise, stamp, income and direct prop-
erty taxes under the federal government were
absolutely unknown. The outbreak of the rebell-
ion changed all this, and the simple system then
in vogue was ill-fitted to bear the strain thrown
upon it. Economic questions had received but
little attention, and the existing tax methods were
capable of only a moderate extension, and princi-
pally in one line. The policy of the government
was timid and tentative, and instead of a clear
conception of the crisis, the Secretary of the
treasury had a vague idea, which was shared by
many, that the contest would be brief, and that
it would not be necessary to resort to extreme
measures to bridge over the Severe present needs
REFUNDING OF PUBLIC DEBT OF UNITED STATES.
557
of the administration. The fall of Sumter, the
suspension of the banks, and the open seces-
sion of the southern states, did not exert the
influence that they should upon Mr. Chase, and
it was by loans and issues of notes, instead of by
a resort to taxation, that lie sought to meet the
enormous and continually increasing demands
made upon the treasury. The debt of the nation
increased from $90,867,828 on July 1, 1861, to
$267,540,035 in December of that year, without
any effort being made to furnish a revenue suffi-
cient to meet at once a part of the expenditures.
In order to alleviate the burden of the debt al-
ready contracted, and to pay certain of the future
expenses of the war, a forced loan was taken
from the people through treasury notes on which
had been conferred a legal tender quality. Hav-
ing made this beginning, further steps were taken
in the same direction. Loans and issues of legal
tenders followed one another. Some futile efforts
to frame tax systems were made, but resulted only
in disappointment, and what they were intended
to accomplish were met with new loans. The in-
ternal revenue law of 1862 was badly framed and
badly administered ; the people were unaccus-
tomed to excise duties, the machinery was com-
plicated, and the officers inexperienced. It was
modified many times before the annual revenue
derived under it reached the $300,000,000 that
was justly believed could be drawn from internal
sources. From time to time tariff measures were
passed, the duties being continually raised, until
a vast and intricate customs service was formed
in which all sound theory and practice had been
sacrificed ostensibly to revenue, but in reality to
private interests. The tariff and internal revenue
laws grew up separately, and their provisions
clashed with one another. Some industries were
taxed out of existence, while others were bene-
fited beyond all precedent. With every new issue
of legal tenders prices rose, and the vast expendi-
tures of government, uniting with the inflation of
values and the uncertain condition of general
business, created a spirit of gambling and specu-
lation which spread to every branch of produc-
tion and exchange, and wrought incalculable mis-
chief and loss. No scheme for raising money
was too wild, but the treasury department and
congress were blind to the one step that would
restore a certain degree of confidence and main-
tain in a measure the public credit. The fiscal
errors enormously increased the expenditures of
the government. While loans were being nomi-
nally taken at par and over, in reality they were
selling at 50 and even at 34, as that marked the
depreciation of the paper money. Prices of war
material had increased three and four hundred
per cent. Mr. Chase refused to believe that his
issues were responsible for this, and could only
recommend further loans and further issues. His
policy was, in a measure, adopted by Mr. Fessen-
den, but with Mr. McCulloch a new and more
just policy was inaugurated. — The growth of
the debt during the war need not be detailed here,
as it is but a constant succession of loans. In
June, 1862, the outstanding principal of the debt
was $524,176,412; in 1863, $1,119,772,138; in 1864,
$1,815,784,370; and in 1865, $2,680,647,869. On
Aug. 31, 1865, the debt had attained its highest
point, $2,845,907,626. Of the ordinary sources
of income, customs and internal revenue were
the most important, and the course of the receipts
in these two branches in the years 1861–6 clearly
showed how weak and futile were the first en-
deavors to frame adequate tax systems, and how
little taxation contributed toward meeting the
current expenditures of government.

Internal Rev- Loans an
YEARS Customs. .. €. rº, N Šies
1861 ------------ $ 39,582,125 || ------------- $ 41,861,709
1862.-----------. 49,056,397 |.------------- 529,692,460
1863 - - - - 69,059,642 $ 37,640,787 776,682,361
1864------------ 102,316,152 109,741,134 1,128,873.945
1865 ---------- 84,928,260 209,464,215 1,472,224,740
1866 -----------. 179,046,651 309,226,813 712,851,553
— There had been no settled policy on which this
vast load of debt had been created, other than the
recognized necessity of meeting all requisitions
made upon the treasury. In his report for 1863,
IMr. Chase said that in the creation of debt he
had kept four objects in view: 1, moderate inter-
est; 2, general distribution ; 3, future controlla-
bility; and 4, incidental utility. The close of the
war, however, found the debt in a very unsatis-
factory condition. On Aug. 31, 1865, it was
made up of the following items:
Funded debt------------------------------- $1,109,568,191.80
Matured debt------------------------------ 1,503,020.09
Temporary loans--------------------------- 107,148,713.16.
Certificates of indebtedness---------------- 85,093,000.00
33,954,230.00
217,024,160.00
830,000,000.00
433,160,569.00
5 per cent. legal tender notes-------- - -----
Compound interest legal tender notes---- . .
Seven-thirty notes.-------- ... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
United States notes (legal tenders) ---------
Fractional currency------------------------ 26,344,742.51
Suspended requisitions--------------------- 2,111,000.00
Total ---------------------------------- $2,845,907,626.56
Of the above items, the United States notes, the
5 per cent. notes and the compound interest notes,
in all, $648,138,959, were a legal tender, and were
for the most part in circulation as currency. The
temporary loans were payable in thirty days from
the time of deposit, after a notice of ten days.
The 5 per cent. notes were payable in lawful
money, in one and two years from Dec. 1, 1863.
The compound interest notes were payable in
three years from their respective dates, all becom-
ing due between June, 1867, and October, 1868.
The 7-30 notes were payable before July, 1868,
in lawful money, or were convertible at maturity
into 5-20 bonds. The certificates of indebtedness
would mature between 1865 and 1867. So that,
besides the United States notes, there were nearly
$1,300,000,000 of debts in various forms, all of
which (with the exception of the temporary loans)
must be converted into bonds or paid in money
before October, 1868. — Secretary McCulloch at
558
REFUNDING OF PUBLIC DEBT OF UNITED STATES.
once entered upon the difficult task of restoring
the disordered finances of the nation to a more
normal condition, and of introducing some Sem-
blance of system in the management of the debt.
The revenues of the government were now suffi-
cient to meet the current expenditure, including
the debt charges, so that an opportunity was
afforded for dealing with the debt. The secretary
announced as his policy, the contraction of the
paper issued by the government, which had been
in a great measure responsible for the financial
disorder and almost ruin. In order to secure this
contraction the secretary recommended: 1, that
congress declare that the compound interest notes
should not be legal tender after their maturity;
and 2, that the secretary be authorized to sell 6
per cent, bonds for the purpose of retiring not
only compound interest notes, but also the United
States notes. As to the rest of the debt, it was
shown that more than one million was already
overdue; that $187,549,646 must be provided for
before 1867, and that $1,021,335,732 fell due in
1867–8, no account being taken of the notes and
fractional currency. The main point was to place
the whole debt in such a form that only the inter-
est could be demanded until the government was
in a condition to meet the principal. It must
therefore be funded. He asked authority to sell
6 per cent. bonds to pay the certificates of in-
debtedness as they matured, to meet any deficien-
cies that might occur in the current fiscal year
(1866), and to take up any portion of the debt ma-
turing prior to 1869 that could be advantageous-
ly retired. Of the debt falling due in 1867–8,
$830,000,000 consisted of 7-30 notes, which were
convertible into bonds at the pleasure of the hold-
ers, and the secretary believed that a part of this
amount would be at once funded were an oppor-
tunity offered. The portions of the debt accru-
ing before 1869 it was the intention of the secre-
tary to fund into 5 per cent. stocks, and a like
method could be used in 1871 when other portions
fell due. Two results would be accomplished by
such a policy: the treasury could be put and kept
in such condition as not only to be prepared to
pay all claims upon presentation, and also to take
up in advance of their maturity, by payment or
conversion, such portions of the temporary debt
as would obviate the necessity of accumulating
large currency balances in the treasury, and at
the same time relieve it from the danger of being
forced to a further issue of legal tender notes, or
to a sale of bonds, at whatever price they might
command. — The second section of the loan act
of March 3, 1865, authorized the secretary to
“dispose of any of the bonds or other obligations
issued under this act, either in the United States
-or elsewhere, in such manner, and at such rates,
and under such conditions, as he may think ad-
visable, for coin, or for other lawful money of the
United States, or for any treasury notes, certifi-
cates of indebtedness, or certificates of deposit,
or other representatives of value, which have
been or may be issued under any act of Con-
gress.” In February, 1866, a bill was reported
from the committee of ways and means, which
proposed to construe the law of 1865 as allowing
the secretary to receive any of the issues of the
government in exchange for the description of
bonds contained in the first section of the act,
provided there should result no increase in the
amount of the public debt. This would amount
to an authority to fund all outstanding obliga-
tions of the government into bonds. The debates
that occurred on this bill practically covered the
whole financial policy of the government, but
turned particularly upon the question of retiring
in this manner the United States notes, at that
time below par, giving to the secretary, it was
claimed, full control of the currency of the coun-
try, and, by direct inference, of the market values
of every description of property. Those who
believed in a depreciated paper issue, or who
thought that there was a short and easy road to
specie payments by which the greenback could
be brought up to par, feared the results of con-
ferring such a great power upon Mr. McCulloch,
who was known to be no friend to a circulating
medium that was shifting in value and constant-
ly below par. While the necessities of the war
lasted, it was well enough, they argued, to confer
such unlimited powers, but not in a time of peace.
It was further urged, that it would be folly to
withdraw a non-interest bearing debt, such as the
legal tender note was, and substitute for it an
obligation that paid 5 or 6 per cent. annually.
On the other hand, it was shown that the bill was
no real innovation, as the secretary could then do
indirectly, under existing loan acts, what it was
proposed to authorize directly. He could ex-
change one kind of paper for another, but only
with the consent of the holder. In fact, some
$50,000,000 of outstanding obligations had been
already funded before any doubt respecting the
legality of such a proceeding had been raised.
The bill was finally passed April 12, but, to limit
the power of the secretary over the currency, con-
tained the provision that “ of the United States
notes not more than $10,000,000 may be retired
and canceled within six months from the pas-
sage of this act, and thereafter not more than
$4,000,000 in any one month.” This measure
enabled the secretary to deal with the debt as it
matured by selling bonds bearing 6 per cent. in-
terest, the principal of which was redeemable at
any time after five and before the expiration of
twenty years from the date of issue. Under this
act the following issues were made : Consols,
1865, $332,998,950; consols, 1867, $379,618,000;
consols, 1868, $42,539,350. In May, 1866, Mr.
Sherman introduced a bill into the Senate, pro-
viding for reducing the interest on the national
debt, and for funding the same. It provided for
the funding of all of the outstanding debt save
the greenbacks into 5 per cent. thirty-year bonds;
and in consideration of the lower rate of interest,
the bonds were to be exempted from the income
tax levied by the United States. The amount of
REFUNDING OF PUBLIC DEBT OF UNITED STATES.
559
interest saved by the conversion was to be applied
to the payment of the principal of the national
debt; and it was estimated that the debt would be
extinguished by this process in about thirty-six
years. The debt was composed of so many differ-
ent classes of securities and obligations that no one
save a skilled financier could comprehend the de-
tails; it would, therefore, be a gain to make the
rate of interest and the kind of security uniform.
The rate of interest paid, too, was higher than
that paid by any other nation; and though, while
the war lasted, there was some excuse for such
rates, they ought not to be continued in peace,
when the credit of the government was beyond
Question. Moreover, it was a very fitting time to
make the change, as a large portion of the debt
was then or about to be under the control of the
treasury. The main business of the secretary
was to provide new loans for such as were ma-
turing. But great objection was made to the
clause exempting the bonds from taxation, and
following the lead of one Mr. Hayes, of the rev-
enue commission, many believed that the federal
securities should be taxed equally with other
property by state authority—a foolish proposition,
and one that would practically give to the states
the right to nullify by taxation the power of the
national government to borrow money. Besides
reducing the rate of interest by funding the debt,
the bill proposed to establish a sinking fund. In
1862 the loan act provided for such a fund, but so
long as the expenditures of government exceeded
the receipts, it would have been a clumsy and
costly instrument to maintain. The bill passed the
senate, but could not be considered by the house.
The debate showed that while the general opinion
was in favor of funding the debt at a lower rate
of interest, yet objections were urged against such
a measure, not only on economic but also on ad-
ministrative grounds. A like measure was intro-
duced in the next session of congress, but was
not acted upon. — The secretary of the treasury
touched upon the subject of refunding when
treating of the foreign debt in his annual report
of 1866. “The question now to be considered is
not, how shall our bonds be prevented from going
abroad? for a large amount has already gone, and
others will follow as long as our credit is good
and we continue to buy more than we can pay
for in any other way, but, how shall they be pre-
vented from being thrown upon the home market,
to thwart our efforts in restoring the specie stand-
ard? The secretary sees no practicable method
of doing this at an early day, but by substituting
for them bonds which, being payable principal
and interest in Europe, will be less likely to be
returned when their return is the least to be de-
sired.” He therefore advised the issue of a bond
payable in Europe, and bearing 5 or 4% per cent.
interest, which was to be substituted for the for-
eign bonds. In March, 1867, he was directed to
issue 3 per cent. loan certificates with which to
retire the outstanding compound interest notes,
but he received no authority to deal generally with
the debt. In his next report (1867) he again ap-
proaches the subject, and, in discussing the ex-
emption of national Securities from state taxation,
recommends that all obligations of the government
be funded into bonds bearing 6 per cent. interest,
and having twenty years to run; ‘‘ one-sixth part
of the interest at each semi-annual payment to be
reserved by the government and paid over to the
states, according to their population.” A bill
embodying the recommendations of the secretary
was introduced into congress, but not taken up. A
long debate occurred upon the funding of the debt,
which was now largely composed of 5-20 bonds.
An aggregate of $1,613,442,650, of which about
$200,000,000 were in the form of seven-thirties,
might be regarded as of 5-20 bonds; and including
the debts that would mature in the summer of
1867, upward of $1,700,000,000 were due within
a period of five years, and the larger part was re-
deemable in 1867 and 1868. A law had been al-
ready passed to check any further contraction of
the currency as proposed by the secretary, but a
measure looking to “free banking ” had been
drawn up, one of the provisions it contained be-
ing that when the combined issues of the national
banks and government should exceed $700,000,000
the government notes in excess of this sum should
be retired and canceled, until the amount of the lat-
ter outstanding should be reduced to $250,000,000.
As it was, the first law interfered greatly with Mr.
McCulloch's plans, for these depended in a great
measure upon his proposed contraction of the cur-
rency. The time was, however, favorable for the
conversion of the debt into 5 per cent. bonds, as
at the prices then obtained for 6 per cents, such
bonds could be negotiated at par. The republic-
ans were adopting resolutions which demanded a
reduction in the rate of interest on the public
debt, so that the burdens of taxation might be
lessened; while the democrats, looking upon the
debt as held chiefly by capitalists and bloated
bondholders, wished to tax the bonds and thus
diminish the revenue obtained from them, a meas-
ure that the loan acts expressly prohibited. The
lengthy debate that followed covered a large
number of irrelevant topics, and came to nought.
Meantime, however, the secretary had been using
the power already given him, and in December,
1867, was able to report that since September,
1865, the temporary loans, the 5 per cent. notes
and the certificates of indebtedness had all been
paid ; the compound interest notes had been re-
duced from $217,024,160 to $71,875,040; the 7-30
notes from $830,000,000 to $337,978,800; the Unit-
ed States notes, including the fractional currency,
from $459,505,311.51 to $387,871,477.39; while
the funded debt had been increased $686,584,800.
The act suspending the further reduction of the
currency was passed Feb. 4, 1868. — There would
be little interest in tracing the recommendations
of the secretary and the abortive action of con-
gress with respect to this question of funding the
debt, which were annually gone through with, it
would almost appear, for form’s Sake alone. It
560
REFUNDING OF PUBLIC DEBT OF UNITED STATES.
was admitted that the rate of interest which the
government paid on the debt was higher than it
ought to be, and while one party viewing the
bondholders with suspicion wished to reduce their
income, and the other for the purpose of remov-
ing burdens from the tax payers desired to refund
the debt at a lower interest, no agreement could
be reached. Some half measures were adopted,
like that of July 25, 1868, which provided for a
further issue of temporary loan certificates, for
the purpose of redeeming and retiring the out-
standing compound interest notes; and of July,
1870, which provided for the redemption of these
certificates. It was in May, 1869, that the sinking
fund was established, and the payment of a part
of the debt each year thus insured. In Decem-
ber, 1869, the funded debt stood as follows: “Of
the loan of Jan. 1, 1861, the sum of $7,022,000
is outstanding, and payable on Jan. 1, 1871. The
loan of 1858, of $20,000,000, is payable in 1873.
The bonds known as 10-40's, amounting to
$194,567,300, are not payable until 1874. The
6 per cent. bonds, payable in 1881, amount to
$283,677,600. The 5-20 bonds, amounting in the
aggregate to $1,602,671,100, are either redeemable
Or will soon become redeemable,” and must there-
fore be provided for. This led up to the refund-
ing act of July 14, 1870. It authorized the secre-
tary to issue not more than $200,000,000 5 per
cent. bonds, redeemable after ten years; also not
over $300,000,000 4 per cent. bonds, redeemable
after fifteen years; also not over $1,000,000,000 4
percent. bonds, redeemable after thirty years—all
to be exempt from United States or state taxes.
As the bonded debt was not to be increased, these
different classes of securities were to be floated at
par. In January, 1871, an amending act was
passed, which increased the amount of 5 per cent.
bonds authorized to $500,000,000, but the total
amount of bonds to be issued under the act of
1870 was not thus increased. As was customary,
the whole financial policy of the government, past
and present, was reviewed in the debates on this
measure, which extended over six months. As
this is the most important act relating to the fund-
ed debt that had been passed up to the year 1870,
it will be interesting to examine in detail the con-
dition of the bonded debt. The following is a
statement of the amount of the coin-interest-bear-
ing debt outstanding March 1, 1871, the nearest
date prior to the opening of subscriptions under
the refunding act :

TITLE OF I.O.A.N. P *ēt. When Redeemable. When Payable. Amount.
Loan of 1858---------------------- . * -------------------------------- January, 1874 $ 20,000,000
Loan of February, 1861------------- 6 -------------------------------- December, 1880 18,415,000
Oregon war debt------------------- 6 -------------------------------- July 1881 945,000
Loan of July, 1861------------------ 6 -------------------------------- June, 1881 189,318,100
5-20's of 1862----------------------- 6 After May, 1867 May, 1882 493,738,350
Loan of 1863----------------------- 6 -------------------------------- June 1881 75,000,000
10-40's of 1864--------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 5 After March, 1874 March, 1904 194,567,300
5-20's of March, 1864--------------- 6 After November, 1869 November, 1884 3,102,600
5-20's of June, 1864----------------- 6 After November, 1869 November, 1884 102,028,900
5-20's of 1865----------------------- 6 After November, 1870 November, 1885 182,112,450
Consols of 1865------------------- - || 6 After July, 1870 July, 1885 264,619,700
Consols of 1867--------------------- 6 After July, 1872 July, 1887 338,832,550
Consols of 1868. -------------------- 6 After July, 1873 July, 1888 39,663,750
Total -------------------------|--------|--------------------------------|-------------------------- $1,922,343,700
The 10-40's of 1864, which bore 5 per cent. inter-
est, were then selling in the market for about 112
currency (or 93 in gold), so that it was expected
that the new 4 per cent. bonds could be sold at
par; and this belief was strengthened by the
fact that the government was collecting a rev-
enue greatly in excess of its expenditures for or-
dinary purposes, thus giving a large sum (about
$100,000,000 annually) to be applied to the debt.
Moreover, there had already occurred a large re-
duction of the principal of the debt, being more
than $303,000,000 in four years, or an average an-
nual payment of $75,000,000, thus demonstrating
the ability of the nation to control its indebted-
ness. – On March 6, 1871, the books were opened
for subscriptions to the new loan, both in this
country and in Europe; and all the national banks
here, and a large number of private bankers in the
United States and abroad, were authorized to re-
ceive subscriptions. On the first of August the
subscriptions amounted to $65,775,550, the larger
share being taken by the banks. In July certain
bankers in Europe offered to take the balance of
the $200,000,000 offered, and it is very likely that
the whole loan could with advantage have been
negotiated abroad had not the war between France
and Prussia broken out. A French loan bearing
5 per cent. interest was being disposed of at about
80, and this interfered with the sale at par of a
United States bond bearing the same rate of inter-
est. The paper currency of this country also in-
troduced an uncertainty respecting the dividend
that would be received when the interest was paid,
as the rate of exchange was liable to fluctuate
widely. In spite of these features the whole of
the loan was taken up by the last of August.
From 1871 to 1877 bonds were disposed of under the
act of July 14, 1870, not only for refunding pur-
poses, but also for other charges on the govern-
ment, like the purchase of coin for a resumption
fund, the payment of the cost of constructing the
Mississippi river improvements, etc. The amount
of 5 per cent. bonds issued each year was : 1871,
$59,669,150; 1872, $140,330,850; 1874, $115,800, .
750; 1875, $96,505,700; 1876, $104,553,050; 1877,
$1,134,650. Total, $517,994,150. No 4% percent.
REFUNDING OF PUBLIC DEBT OF UNITED STATES.
561
bonds were taken before August, 1876, and after
this no 5 per cent. bonds could be issued. The
Secretary was able to negotiate these bonds bear-
ing a lower rate of interest at par, by reason of a
favorable change in the money market, and in
May, 1877, the condition of the market allowed of
the floating at par in coin of a 4 per cent. bond.
Within a period of thirty days the subscription for
this class of bonds reached more than $75,000,000.
The success indicated by this auspicious begin-
ning was, however, checked later on, when it was
proposed to repeal the resumption act and to re-
monetize silver, measures which threw doubt upon
the credit of the government, and threatened to
put an end to all future refunding operations by
disabling the government from borrowing. The
result of any such set-back would be to throw
away an opportunity to reduce the rate of interest
on the $1,452,000,000 of the debt which was re-
deemable by May, 1881, by one-third—or a saving
of $22,006,205 in yearly interest. Fortunately this
attack upon the public credit failed in its object,
and while the resumption law remained in force,
the remonetization of silver was so accomplished
as to conceal its real effects, and postpone the dis-
astrous financial crisis that might at once have
been precipitated. — In the early part of 1879 a
measure passed the house, authorizing the issue of
certificates of deposit in aid of the refunding of
the national debt. It proposed to authorize the
issue, in exchange for lawful money, of certifi-
cates of deposit of the denomination of $10, bear-
ing interest at the rate of 3 per cent. per annum,
and convertible at any time into 4 per cent. bonds.
The main object to be attained by this bill was to
place these bonds within easy reach of every cit-
izen who desired to invest his savings in these
Securities. It had been recommended by the pres-
ident in his annual message, and also by the sec-
retary of the treasury. It met, however, with
great opposition in the house, as its result was rep-
resented to be nothing less than to convert the
treasury into a savings bank. The bill passed the
house, and in the senate the rate of interest was
changed to 4 per cent. In order to make this
form of loan as popular as possible, and to facili-
tate and distribute the sale of these certificates,
national banks and public officers were designated
depositaries. The intention of the law was, how-
ever, defeated, as the premium on the 4 per cent.
bonds offered a good investment, and the certifi-
cates, while purchased in small amounts, were ob-
tained chiefly in large blocks by speculators; the
attempt to offer an investment for small savings
proved a farce. The main object of these meas-
ures, the refunding of the 6 per cent, bonds, was
accomplished. By April 5 all of the outstanding
5-20's had been refunded, and as no other 6 per
cent. bonds remained, attention was directed to
the 10-40's. On April 16, $150,000,000 4 per cents
were offered at a premium of # per cent. On the
following day subscriptions to the amount of
$149,389,650 were received and accepted, and up-
ward of $35,000,000 received and declined. By
155 VOL. III. — 36
October, 1879, $40,012,750 of the refunding cer-
tificates had been sold, and all but $2,809,400 had
been exchanged for 4 per cent. bonds. Between
November, 1878, and November, 1879, there had
been refunded $370,848,750 6 per cent. and
$193,890,250 5 per cent. bonds of the United
States, into bonds bearing interest at 4 per cent.,
making an annual saving of interest of $9,355,877.
— It will now be convenient to take a general
survey of the refunding operations accomplished
since 1870, as their magnitude will become more
apparent. In 1870 there were outstanding of debt
controllable within a short period by the govern-
ment, an aggregate of $1,395,345,950, on which 5
and 6 per cent, were being paid, and more than
five-sixths of the total was paying 6 per cent. The
annual interest charge was $81,639,684. In place
of these bonds bearing high rates of interest had
been issued,"up to 1880, $500,000,000 at 5 per cent.,
$185,000,000 at 43 per cent., and $710,345,950
at 4 per cent., on which the annual interest charge
was $61,738,838; being a saving in interest of
$19,900,846. Within the same period nearly
$300,000,000 of the principal of the debt had been
discharged. The apparent ease with which these
great financial changes were accomplished, is in
a great measure to be explained by the general
condition of trade and industry as shown in
the money market. The bulk of the bonds were
floated after 1878, and before 1873. The years
1871–3 were marked by speculative movements
which gave an unnatural and in the end an evil
stimulus to all forms of enterprise and invest-
ments, and the securities offered by the govern-
ment were no exception to the general rule. Sub-
scriptions were freely made both here and abroad,
until the crisis of 1873, which was followed by
a long period of retrenchment, the inevitable
consequence of over-speculation and inflated val-
ues. The table we have last quoted makes no
return of sales for 1873, and shows a decided
falling off in those for 1874–5. Had the loan
been offered two years later than it was, it could
not have been negotiated as readily. From
1873 to 1878 commercial depression and stagna-
tion weighed upon the trade and industry of the
country, one of the most severe of such periods,
if not the most severe, that the nation has ever
experienced. For lack of other safe and profit-
able investments, capital was turned toward the
government bonds, and the glut of capital seek-
ing investment in the money centres gave an
opportunity to place at par a bond bearing a low
rate of interest. There was in these years an im-
mense amount of legitimate trading being done,
which, conducted on a sound basis, at least yielded
average profit; and, as there was very little spent
and wasted in speculation and in uncertain ven-
tures, the country was adding to its available
wealth at a very rapid rate. This prepared the
way for the great operations of 1878, 1879 and
1880. Although trade had revived, and industry
was fully employed, the immense amount of capi-
tal seeking for profit allowed the floating of a
562
REFUNDING OF PUBLIC DEBT OF UNITED STATES.
4 per cent. bond when the security was so un-
questioned. The government had collected from
twenty to thirty millions each year in excess of
its expenditure, the year 1879 forming an excep-
tion ; and, as the better condition of trade was
felt, the national revenues increased to such an
extent that in 1880 the surplus revenue reached
the sum of $65,883,653, and gave every sign of
going far above that amount in the succeeding
year, should the favorable conditions continue to
exist. It followed, therefore, that the credit of
the government was high, and the fact that the
resumption of specie payments had been accom-
plished in 1879 with almost no friction, and with-
out creating even a ripple in the money markets,
only served to increase confidence in the ability of
the government to handle its indebtedness. The
only disquieting circumstance—the enforced coin-
age of a silver dollar that was worth much less
than its face—was not sufficient to raise any ques-
tion on the public faith, although notes of warn-
ing regarding the ultimate effects of this question-
able policy were raised by those who had made a
study of economic questions. The fact that the
great refunding operations were accomplished,
and that, too, without creating any financial dis-
turbance, impressed the people with the enormous
wealth-producing power of the nation, and gave
promise of as great, if not greater, financial Op-
erations in the future, should the government
again be compelled to draw upon the resources of
the people. Every dollar of debt that the govern-
ment paid, and every dollar of interest that was
as much as paid by being saved through the re-
funding into low interest bonds, represented ten
Or a hundred dollars that could be borrowed in
the future, when the necessities of the nation
should require. — This operation, however, did
not complete the work to be done, as $273,631,350
6 per cent. bonds, issued during the years 1861
and 1863, and $508,440,350 5 per cent. bonds,
issued in 1870 and 1871, were about to become
due. Of these, all but $18,415,000 would ma-
ture in May, June and July, 1881. These bonds
must be provided for, and under existing laws
there remained available for refunding operations,
$104,654,050, or less than one-seventh of the total
to be refunded. The secretary of the treasury
recommended that authority be conferred upon
him to issue 4 per cent. bonds and refunding cer-
tificates convertible into such bonds as before, and
owing to the favorable situation he believed that
such a bond could be sold at a premium. Al-
though a refunding measure was introduced in
the house, and debated, no vote was reached. In
his report for 1880 the secretary again called at-
tention to the necessity of passing some measure,
and recommended that this portion of the debt be
provided for by treasury notes, running from one
to ten years, and issued so that they may be paid
as they mature. This would obviate the necessity
of paying a premium on the bonds purchased by
the government for the sinking fund, as had often
happened, and would leave a large portion of the
debt so placed that it could be easily controlled
by the government. He asked authority to issue
$400,000,000 of such notes, which he thought need
not carry a higher rate of interest than 3 per cent.,
and also to issue a like amount of bonds, to bear
3.65 per cent. interest. The government fours
were then selling at 113. A bill was brought into
the house, which provided for a long-time bond
(at first a 50-year bond, afterward modified to
20-40's), to bear 3 per cent. interest. Objection
was at once made, and with reason, that such a
measure would practically place this refunded
portion of the debt beyond the control of the
government, and at a time when large reductions
in the principal were possible. While the surplus
revenue in 1879 was but about seven millions, in
1880 it was nearly sixty-six millions, and it was
estimated that in 1881 a surplus of more than fifty
millions could be counted upon with certainty,
and this amount might be greatly exceeded. That
such a proceeding could not be defended, was
proved by plain figures. In January, 1881, there
remained $671,207,050 redeemable at the pleasure
of the government before July, and the surplus
revenue to be collected before that date would,
by the estimate of the secretary of the treasury,
reduce this sum to $640,000,000. The require-
ments of the sinking fund for the next ten years,
or until the $250,000,000 of the 44 per cent. bonds
became due, would amount to $520,000,000, and
this took no account of the surplus revenue ap-
plied to the debt in that time. So that there could
be no justice in converting this $630,000,000 into
a long-term debt. Yet, it was on the rate of in-
terest and the term of the bond that the debate
was centred. There was such a scarcity of Sound
investments that the returns were small on such
as were freely bought. “Only a few years ago
the French rentes yielded over 5 per cent. on the
market price, and not very long since United
States government bonds could be bought, to re-
turn 7 and 8 per cent. Consols are now no longer
at par, but they are so little under it that prac-
tically they may be said to yield only 3 per cent.;
United States fours yield about 3% per cent. ;
Erench rentes, about 4 per cent.; Indian sterling
bonds, not quite 4 per cent.; and colonial govern-
ment Securities, generally about the same rate.
|Fiven Russian and Hungarian bonds, great as is
the risk attached to them, pay an investor only
5% or 6% per cent., respectively. And if we pass
from the securities of states to those of private
companies, we find that those in good credit give
usually from 3 to 4 per cent., but seldom more.”
It was with reason urged that the credit of the
government of the United States ought to be as
high as that of any other nation, and that a 3 per
cent. bond could be floated at par; the Only ques-
tion was, how long a time Such a bond Ought to
run. The English consol, which bore 3 per cent.,
was practically perpetual, but a perpetual debt
was opposed to all the traditions of American
policy, and not to be thought of under any cir-
cumstances. As finally passed, the bill provided
REFUNDING OF PUBLIC DEBT OF UNITED STATES.
563
for the issue of $400,000,000 of bonds, bearing 3
per cent. interest, and payable in twenty years, or
redeemable in five years after the date of issue,
and also treasury notes to an amount not exceed-
ing $300,000,000, bearing interest at 3 per cent.,
redeemable at the pleasure of government after
one year, and payable in ten years from the date
Of issue. —But while passing through congress,
a provision was introduced into the measure, which
was not only decidedly objectionable in itself, but
was opposed to the spirit of a funding act, which
should be a purely voluntary transaction : the
government ought not, in such a case, to attempt
to force a sale, either upon the people or upon any
particular class of institutions. ' The securities of
the government had been made a basis for the cir-
culation of the national banks, and these useful
institutions had experienced a great reduction in
their profits, through the previous funding Opera-
tions of the government. The comptroller of the
currency, in his report for 1879, said: “The re-
funding of the national debt commenced in 1871,
at which time the national banks held nearly
$400,000,000 of the 5 and 6 per cent. bonds; and
from that date to the present time they have held
more than one-fifth of the interest-bearing debt of
the United States. This class of bonds has since
been greatly reduced, and is now less than one-
sixth of all the bonds pledged for circulation,
while more than one-third of the amount consists
of bonds bearing interest at 4 per cent.” At the
time that this funding bill was pending (1881) the
amounts of 6 and 5 per cents had been still more
reduced. It was now proposed to make the new
bonds the only government Securities that could
in future be used by the banks as a basis for their
circulation, and, as an inducement to the banks to
accept this proposition, the taxes on capital, de-
posits and circulation were to be repealed. But
these measures of compensation were not included
in the bill which passed the house, and the finance
committee of the senate proposed to strike out this
coercive section, thus removing the objectionable
feature of the bill. It had been shown by the comp-
troller of the currency that such a section would
strike a very serious blow at the national bank sys-
item, as the $211,000,000 of bonds then deposited
by the banks would mature in that year (1881), and
this amount of the new 3 per cents would have
to be substituted, or the notes issued on it would
have to be retired, and the banks probably be
compelled to go into liquidation. But the section
was restored, and the bill went to the president.
The result of this provision was to create great
distrust among the banks, and in the short period
of thirteen days they contracted their issues by
$18,722,340, and nearly precipitated a panic. In
fact, a crisis was averted only by the action of the
Secretary of the treasury, who paid out an equal
amount of legal tenders in the purchase of bonds.
This movement was, however, caused in a meas-
ure by other provisions of the bill, which were,
that “section four, of the act of June 20, 1874,
entitled “an act fixing the amount of United
States notes,’ be and the same is hereby repealed;
and sections 5159 and 5160 of the Revised Statutes
of the United States be, and the same are hereby,
re-enacted.” This would deprive the banks of
the right to take up by a deposit of legal tenders
their bonds held by the treasurer as a security for
their circulation, and would compel them to keep
bonds to the amount of one-third of their capital,
and this, whether they issued circulating notes or
not. This panic, however uncalled for, showed
that the banks believed their existence to be en-
dangered, and the president, taking the same
position, vetoed the bill, giving as a reason the
inexpediency, not to say the injustice, of the
coercive section. “ Under this section it is obvi-
ous that no additional banks will hereafter be
organized, * * and no increase of the capital of
existing banks can be obtained except by the pur-
chase and deposit of 3 per cent, bonds. No other
bonds of the United States can be used for the
purpose. * * This is a radical change in the
banking law. It takes from the banks the right
they have heretofore had under the law to pur-
chase and deposit, as security for their circulation,
any of the bonds issued by the United States, and
deprives the bill holder of the best security which
the banks are able to give, by requiring them to
deposit bonds having the least value of any bonds
issued by the government. * * In short, I
can not but regard the fifth section of the bill as
a step in the direction of the destruction of the
national banking system.” The veto message was
submitted on the day before congress adjourned,
So that no action could be taken on it. — In this
way was a refunding measure defeated. But the
debt was maturing, and some provision for meet-
ing it must be made. Congress had adjourned,
and the responsibility was thrown upon the sec-
retary of the treasury. On March 1, 1881, or
three days before the adjournment of congress,
the maturing debt was:

TITLE OF LOAN. Redeemahle Amount.
Rate
per ct.
Loan of July and Aug., 1861
Loan of 1863 - - -
June 30, 1881|$144,339,900
• * * * * * * * * * * * 57.
Eunded loan of 1881 --------
June 30, 1881| 57,216,100
May 1, 1881 469,320,650
:
The only resources of the government to meet
these obligations were the surplus revenue, and
about $104,650,000 of 4 per cent. bonds that had
been authorized by the acts of 1870 and 1871, but
had not been disposed of. To pay off the matur-
ing bonds with the revenue was clearly out of the
question; and to have issued the 4 per cents would
have placed so much of the debt beyond the con-
trol of the government, owing to the length of
time they had to run before redemption, a step
that it was not expedient to take. The Secretary,
Mr. Windom, therefore assumed the responsibility
and adopted the following plan: “On April 11
there was called for absolute payment on July 1,
1881, the small loan of $688,200, bearing 6 per
cent. interest, and known as the Oregon war debt,
564 REICHSRATH.
REICHSTAG.
and at the same time, for payment on the same
date, the 6 per cent. loans, acts of July 17 and
Aug. 5, 1861, amounting to $140,544,650, and act
of March 3, 1863, amounting to $55,145,750; but
to the holders of the bonds of the two latter loans
permission was given to have their bonds con-
tinued at the pleasure of the government, pro-
vided they should so request.” This plan proved
entirely successful, and a like privilege was ex-
tended to the lolders of the funded loan of 1881.
The bonds were presented freely, because the new
continued bonds (known as “Windoms”) bore a
Small premium, and the amounts that were not
SO presented were easily met by the surplus reve-
nue. The annual saving in interest accomplished
by this simple operation was $10,478,952, and on
Nov. 1 there remained outstanding of bonds
bearing 3% per cent. interest, payable at the pleas-
ure of the government, $563,380,950. The step
taken by the secretary was severely criticised as
being an assumption of legislative powers by an
executive officer, but he really had no alternative,
and, as events proved, his expedient was better
than the one proposed by congress, which would
have placed it beyond the power of the govern-
ment to pay a larger portion of the debt by
postponing payment of it for a term of years.
Although this was not, properly speaking, a re-
funding measure, it accomplished what such a
measure proposed to accomplish, and so satisfac-
tory was the result that Secretary Folger made
“no recommendation of legislation for the re-
funding of the bonds now outstanding bearing
interest at 3% per centum.” — A bill to refund
$200,000,000 of the continued bonds into 3 per
cent. Stock was debated in the senate, but failed
in the house, and the whole matter would have
been allowed to rest had it not been for the neces-
sity of allowing the national banks to renew their
charters. The eleventh section of this act (July
12, 1882) authorized the secretary to receive con-
tinued bonds, and to issue instead 3 per cent. Se-
curities; and provided “ that the bonds herein
authorized shall not be called in and paid so long
as any bonds of the United States heretofore
issued bearing a higher rate of interest than 3
per centum, and which shall be redeemable at the
pleasure of the United States, shall be outstanding
and uncalled. The last of the said bonds origi-
nally issued under this act, and their substitutes,
shall be first caſled in, and this order of payment
shall be followed, until all shall have been paid.”
This measure completed the funding operations of
the government, and while more than $300,000,000
of the 3% per cents were exchanged for 3 per
cents, the surplus revenues were so great that, by
November, 1883, the 3 per cents were being
called in for payment. It was, in fact, then a.
Question as to what should be done with the reve-
nues of the government when all the threes were
redeemed, as no other bonds became due until
1891, and the attempts to reduce the revenue had
proved abortive. — For the purpose of showing
more completely the changes that have occurred
in the debt, the following table, from official
records, is given :

YEAR ENDED – 3 Per Cts. || 4 Per Cents. |4 1-2 Per Cts.| 5 Per Cents. 6 Per Cents. 73-10 Per CentS. "...; *śr.
Bollars. Dollars. Dollars. Dollars. Dollars. Dollars. Dollars. Dollars.
1860-July 1-----------|-------------- sº º ºs º ºs º ºr - - 43.476,300.00| 21,164,538, 11|-------------- 64,640,838.11| 3,443,687.29
1861--------|----------|------------------------- 33,022,200.00, 57,358,673.95|-------------- 90,380,873.95 5,092,630.43
1863--------|---------- 57,926,116.57|----------- 30,483,000.00) 154,313,225.01| 122,582,485.34 365,304,826.92 22,048,509.59
1863--------|---------- 105,629,385.30 ----------- 30,483,000.00 431,444,813.83| 139,974,435.34 707,531,634.4%| 41,854,148.01
1864 -------|---------- 77,547,696.07|----------- 300,213,480.00. 842,882,652.09||139,286,935.341,359,930,763.50 78,853,487.24
1865--------|------. 90,496,930.74|----------- 245,709,420.631,213,495,169.90|671,610,397.022,221,311,918.29| 137,742,617.43
1865–Aug. 31|---------- 618,127.98|------ ---- 269,175,727.651,281,736,439,33|830,000,000.002,381,530,294.96 150,977,697.87
1866–July 1----------- 121,341,879.62 ...---------- 201,982,665.01|1,195,546,041.02|813,460,621.952,332,331,207.60 146,068,196.29
867. ------- ----| 17,737,025.68|----------- 198,533,435.01|1,543,452,080,02|488,344,846.952,248,067,387.66 138,892,451.39
1868-------- 64,000,000 801,361.23|----------- 221,586,185.01|1,878,303,984.50 37,397,196.952,202,088,727.69| 128,459,598.14
1869.------. 66,125,000--------------|----------- 221,588,300.001.874,347,222.39|-------------- 2,162,060,522.39 125,523,998.34
1870-------- 59,550,000--------------|----------- 221,588,300.001,765,317,422.39|-------------- 2,046,455,722.39| 118,784,960.34
1871 - .-----| 45,885,000 678,000.00|----------- 274,236,450.001,613,897,300,00|-------------- 1,934,696,750.00 111,949,330.50
1872-------- 24,665,000 678,000.00 - - - - - - - ---. 414,567,300.001,374,883,800.00|-------------. 1,814,794,100.00 103,988,463.00
1873-------- 14,000,000 678,000.00 ----------- 414,567,300.001,281,238,650.00 --------. ---- 1,710,483,950.00. 98,049,804.00
1874-------- 14,000,000 678,000.00|----------- 510,628,050.001,213,624,700,00|.------------- 1,738,930,750.00. 98.796,004.50
1875-------- 14,000,000 678,000.00 - - - - - - - - - - - 607,132,750.001,100,865,550,00|-------------- 1,722,676,300.00. 96,855,690.50
1876-------- 4,000,000----------...-. ----------- 711,685,800.00. 984,999,650.00 -------------- 1,710,685,450.00. 95,104,269.00
1877-------- 14,000,000|-------------- 140,000,000|703,266,650.00 854,621,850,00|-------------- 1,711,888,500.00. 93,160,643.50
1878-------- 14,000,000. 98,850,000.00|240,000,000|703,266,650.00. 738,619,000.00|-------------- 1,794,735,650.00. 94,654,472.50
1879-------- 14,000,000 741,522,000.00 250,000,000|508,440,350.00) 283,681,350,00|-------------- 1,797,643,700.00. 83,773,778.50
1880-------- 14,000,000 739,347,800.00|250,000,000. 484,864,900 00 235,780,400,00|-------------- 1,723,993,100.00 79,633,981.00
1881 -------- 14,000,000|739,347,800.00|250,000,000. 439,841,350.00) 196,378,600,00-------------- 1,639,567,750.00, 75,018,695,50
Continued at 31-2 per cent.,
1882-------- 14,000,000|739,349,350.00|250,000,000 460,461,050.00 -------------- 1,463,810,400.00) 57,360,110.75
—AUTHORITIES. The Finance Reports and Com- into two chambers, the members of the lower
gressional Globe and Record are the chief authori-
ties, but there is much material scattered among
periodicals which might be consulted with advan-
tage, but which can not be mentioned in this
place. WORTHINGTON C. FORD,
REICHSRATH (council of the empire) is the
name of the parliament of Austria. It is divided
house being elective. (See AUSTRIA-HUNGARY.)
REICHSTAG. The Reichstag is the elective
chamber of the German parliament. Thus was
resumed the name of the assembly of the estates
of the German empire, which, from 1663, up
to 1806, convened regularly at Regensburg, under
the presidency of the emperor, or of the arch-
REMOVALS FROM OFFICE.
565
chancellor of the empire, the elector-archbishop of
Mayeuce. That assellibly was divided into three
chambers: 1, of electors; 2, of princes, divided into
the temporal and the ecclesiastical bench (the neu-
tral bench between them was occupied by the Prot-
estant bishops of Lübeck and of Osnabrück); 3,
of cities, subdivided into the bench of the Rhine
and the Suabian bench. Each of the three cham-
bers deliberated separately; after a separate vote
had been taken, the chambers sought to come to
an understanding, for the purpose of presenting
to the emperor a common decision, called conclu-
Sum ºmperº. BLOCK.
REMOVAL OF DEPOSITS. (See DEPOSITs,
REMOVAL OF.)
REMOVALS FROM OFFICE. The subject
of Appointments has been reserved, to be consid-
ered here with Removals. An appointment, in a
political sense, is the designation and authoriza-
tion, by the proper authority, of Some person to
be a public officer or agent, with the powers and
duties conferred by law. A removal is an act, on
the part of some competent authority, by which
the holding of a public office or agency is brought
to an end. Very generally the power of appoint-
ment and that of removal are vested in the same
officer or body. Under enlightened governments
this power, save in so far as it relates to the sub-
ordinates of the judicial and legislative depart-
ments, is, with few exceptions, treated as an
executive power. Under the very defective con-
federacy which preceded the American constitu-
tion, the appointing power was in congress, there
having been no executive branch; and in several
of the states a greater or less portion of that power
has been retained or usurped by the legislature.
Sometimes, however, the power of appointment
is divided between two authorities, as in the case
of about 3,500 of the higher non-elective officers
of the United States, who are nominated by the
president and confirmed by the senate. (See Con-
FIRMATION.) The same mode of appointment
generally prevails in the states; but Massachusetts
gives the power of confirmation, generally, to a
council of eight members elected by the people
in districts, and perhaps some other states have
followed her example. — The federal constitution,
the theory of which is followed by the states, con-
fers the appointing power upon the president in
these words: “He shall nominate, and by and
with the advice and consent of the senate, shall
appoint, ambassadors, other public ministers and
consuls, judges of the Supreme court, and all
other officers of the United States, whose appoint-
ments are not herein otherwise provided for, and
which shall be established by law; but the con-
gress may by law vest the appointment of such
inferior officers as they may think proper in the
president alone, in the courts of law, or in the
heads of departments.” This power extends to
army and navy appointments, as well as to those
for the civil service. No power of removal is
formally conferred, and the only provisions ex-
pressly affecting that power are these : 1. “The
president, vice-president, and all civil officers of
the United States, shall be removed from office on
impeachment for a conviction of treason, bribery,
or other high crimes and misdemeanors.” 2. “The
judges, both of the supreme and inferior courts,
shall hold their offices during good behavior,”
and their compensation shall not be diminished
during continuance in office. 3. “The house of
representatives shall elect their speaker and other
officers; * * the senate shall choose their other
officers, and also a president pro tempore in the
absence of the vice-president.” Fach of these pro-
visions plainly leaves the important authority and
duty of removal of federal officials, in case they
are not guilty of high crimes or misdemeanors,
utterly unprovided for, and therefore to mere im-
plication. — The appointment has been held com-
plete when the commission is filled out and signed
by the president, even though not delivered. (Mar-
bury vs. Madison, 1 Cranch, 137, and 19 Howard
Rep., 4, 74.) But President Jefferson dissented
from this view, and treated a delivery of the com-
mission as essential to complete an appointment.—
Congress has vested in the courts of law the ap- .
pointment of nearly or quite all the subordinates
of those tribunals. With considerable exceptions
(for which see CONFIRMATION and TERM AND
TENURE OF OFFICE), it has vested in each of the
heads of departments the appointment of its own
subordinates. And legislative bodies in the United
States, as in all other really free countries, appoint
and remove their own subordinates. – Under the
federal constitution, it would seem plain, that,
with the exception of officers of congress, no ap-
pointment of civil officers can be made, except,
first, by the president, by and with the advice and
consent of the senate; or, second, of inferior offi-
cers, 1, by the president alone, 2, by one of the
heads of a department, or, 3, by a court of law.—
There seems to be no clear definition of an ‘‘infe-
rior officer’’ in the sense of the constitution, and
it would be very difficult to frame one of much
definiteness. What, then, is the extent of the
power of congress to vest appointments? It is by
no means easy to determine what persons in the
public service are, in any sense, officers within the
purview of the constitution. There are at all times
thousands in that service whom the law, with little
precision, designates as employés. In legal phrase,
they are employed, but not appointed, and are dis-
missed, or discharged, but not removed. Their
selection for, and severance from, the public Serv-
ice, is, therefore, technically no exercise of the
appointing power. Mere laborers in the navy
yards, arsenals, and elsewhere, are clearly Only
employés. But many persons, in continuous Serv-
ice at custom houses and other offices, as well as
the clerks of committees and commissions, and
all like officials, whose relations and duties are
nearly identical with those of others classed as
officers, are designated and treated as if only em-
ployés. Such, too, is the case of nearly all of
566
REMOVALS FROM OFFICE.
the tens of thousands of the subordinates of
postmasters throughout the Union, they being
employed and discharged by the postmasters
themselves, without any action by the postmaster
general; yet the subordinates of collectors, naval
officers, surveyors, etc., with slight exception—
though having analogous functions and authority,
and being in no respect more official and perma-
nent—are treated as officers. They are appointed
and removed by the secretary of the treasury;
the direct superiors of the latter “inferior offi-
cers” only making recommendations concerning
them to that “head of department.” On no sound
principle can such discrimination be made. The
clerk of the postmaster, on the basis of principle,
dignity and justice, is as much an officer as the
clerk of the collector. The question may well
arise as to which of these two classes of public
servants are now being selected and discharged in
an unconstitutional manner. — Confusion on the
subject has existed from the beginning of the gov-
ernment. A law of 1789 (1 Stat. at Large, chap.
xx., § 27), authorizes “marshals to appoint one
or more deputies,” and a court or judge to re-
move them. It has been decided (United States
os. Finkle, 3 Blatchford Rep., 425), that “these
deputies are officers.” But if they are officers,
it is plain that they can not be appointed by a
marshal, he not being an official upon whom con-
gress can confer the appointing power. (See
United States vs. Hertwell, 6 Wallace Rep., 385,
for an analogous case.)—The authority of con-
gress, in regard to vesting the appointing power,
may obviously be so exercised as to greatly affect
not only the executive department itself, but the
relations between it and the senate. The appoint-
ment of the vast number of subordinates now
made by the heads of the departments alone
might either be vested in the president alone, or,
on the other extreme, be made subject to the con-
firmation of the Senate. So the appointment of
all who can be classed as ‘‘inferior officers ” Of
the about 3,500 officers now nominated by the
president and confirmed by the senate, might be
given to the president alone or to heads of depart-
ments. And it is by no means clear how far con-
gress may go in regulating the power of removal.
Even as early as 1826, a committee of the senate
made a report in favor of requiring the president,
in making nominations to that body, to fill a va-
cancy caused by a removal, to state the reasons
for which the removal had been made. There is
a statute forbidding the head of a department
removing certain officers “except for cause stated
in writing, which shall be submitted to congress
at the session following such removal.” (U. S.
Rev. Stat., sec. 1705; and see ConFIRMATION, for
effect of tenure of office acts.) — The question
where the right of removal was vested arose al-
most upon the government going into effect.
Closely connected with that, was the question as
to the theory and basis of removals. These ques-
tions were discussed in the house of representa-
tives at its first session, of which Madison was a
member. A considerable majority—contrary to
a view expressed in the “Federalist,” and ap-
proved by Mr. Webster—finally held that the
power of removal was in the president alone, and
that he could remove in his discretion. (Annals.
of Congress, vol. i., pp. 369-384.) The senate
approved this view, but only by the casting vote
of the vice-president, Mr. Adams. (Ex parte
Hennin, 13 Peters Rep., 237, 240.) In conformity
to this view, the act establishing the treasury de-
partment declares that “the secretary may be re-
moved. by the president.” Ever since, this vast
implied power—the greatest perhaps ever con-
ferred by mere construction—has been accorded
to the president, without its ever having been made.
an issue in the courts. (1 Kent's Commentaries,
311.) The debate in the house was elaborate,
and disclosed great diversity of opinion. The
rule for which Mr. Madison, who took a leading
part, contended, was that the power of removal
was an incident to or really a part of the power
of appointments, and that it therefore belonged
to the president alone. The senate was to have
no part in its exercise. He also maintained, with
unanswerable cogency, that removals can be
made only for cause, and that a failure to re-
move for good cause and a removal without such
cause, would alike be malfeasance on the part of
the president, (and consequently on the part of
any official having the appointing power), which
would justly subject him to impeachment. It
was strongly urged by others, that, as the Senate
had the power of confirmation (see CONFIRMA-
TION), and hence in a sense shared the appointing
power, it should also be consulted as to removals.
Mr. Benson, of New York, (where the spoils sys-
tem was first and most fully developed), advanced
the doctrine that the president could “remove at
pleasure”; and consequently that he was under
no such legal or moral responsibility as Mr. Mad-
ison insisted upon. Others urged the equally rad-
ical view, on the other extreme, that appointed
officers were removable only by impeachment and
conviction, which would, of course, give a tenure.
of good behavior. The only decision reached
was, that the power of removal was in the presi-
dent alone, until some part of it should (with the
power of appointment) be vested by congress else-
where, as the constitution authorizes. Yet, with
strange inconsistency, the first congress, in one
case, by law vested the power of appointing cer-
tain officers in one subordinate official (not the
head of a department), and the power of remov-
ing them in another. (1 Stat. at Large, chap. XX.,
§ 27.)—Despite the conflicting action of congress,
the rule of the courts is, that the power of remov-
al is an incident of the power of appointment.
(Ex parte Hennin, 13 Peters Rep., 261.) It is the
general rule, consequently, that when a power of
appointment is conferred, the power of removal
accompanies it as an incident; the conditions on
which the removal may be made depending on.
the tenure of the office, as defined by law. (See
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.) Where there.
REMOVALS FROM OFFICE.
567
is a tenure of good behavior, it is plain there
must be a good cause arising from the bad con-
duct of the official. Removal, in such a case,
must be preceded by such action as is equivalent
to a conviction for misbehavior; of which there
must have been a charge, and upon that charge a
trial and opportunity of defense. (Page vs. Hoe-
din, 8 B. Munroe, 672.) There are few cases of
such tenure, except the judiciary. Under a pow-
er to remove “for cause ’’ there is a limitation of
the power of a mere discretionary removal, and
there must be a legal cause—malfeasance, mis-
feasance or nonfeasance—constituting a breach
of the trust of the Office, of which the Courts can
take notice; and they will restore the officer re-
moved without such cause. (State, etc., vs. Com-
mon Council, 9 Wisconsin Rep., 254; Ex parte
Ring, 35 Texas Rep. , 657; Field vs. Com., etc.,
32 Penn, Rep., 478,484; The People vs. Munday,
72 New York Rep., 445; The People vs. The May-
or, 79 New York Rep., 582.) If there is some
evidence of cause for removal, the courts will not
review that evidence, though they might in the
first instance have reached a different conclusion.
(The People os. Campbell, 82 New York Rep.,
247.)—Nearly all appointed officials, save those
having a fixed term, hold during the discretion of
the official having the appointing power, or, in
common phrase, “during his pleasure.” A simi-
lar right of removal during the term exists in
the case of appointed officials having a fixed term
of years. — Contrary to the general opinion until
recently, the power of the president to remove
(or dismiss) an officer of the army or navy is the
same as his power to remove a civil officer; but
congress has so regulated that authority, that,
without the concurrence of the senate, the power
of summarily discharging army or navy officers
“in time of peace” can not be exercised “except
in pursuance of the sentence of a court martial,
or in commutation thereof.” (Blake vs. The Unit-
ed States, 13. Ott Rep., 227, 237.) This liability
of all officers of the army and navy, confirmed
by the senate, to be removed at any time by the
mere concurrent act of the president and the par-
ty majority of that body, has, unquestionably, a
vicious tendency; drawing those officers into pol-
itics, and causing them to more and more dread
political influence and to court the favor of parties
and their leaders. This power of removal is held
in partisan circles, and very generally on the part
of the politician class, to mean a right to remove
in order to promote the interests of the dominant
party or faction, and even if not, yet in order to
realize the political ambition of the appointing
officer. The threat or fear of such use of it is
made effective for extorting political assessments,
and for compelling the officials of the government
to become the henchmen of parties and chief-
tains. This prostitution of the power of removal,
like that of the power of appointment, has been
one of the most potent agencies by which the
public service has been demoralized and degraded,
and the spoils system has been made potential.
There can be little doubt that there has been a
mischievous and unwarranted suggestion drawn
from the phrase “removable at pleasure,” some-
times used by the courts. It has too often, even
by honest citizens, been accepted as meaning an
authority under no moral obligations; when, in
fact, nothing can be clearer than the duty of
using it, conscientiously, for the promotion of
the public interests in the broadest sense in which
they may be affected. Whatever may be said of
a technical, legal power, no officer can have a
right to remove a worthy public servant, except
for adequate public reasons, nor any right to for-
bear to remove an unworthy One, unless the re-
moval would, for peculiar reasons, be at the mo-
ment a public detriment. This was the rule laid
down by Madison, and enforced during his gen-
eration.—The moral obligations attending the ex-
ercise of the appointing power are clear enough
to any candid mind, however party zeal and
vicious usages may have obscured them in the
minds of the mere politician. The same rules of
duty which forbid the use of the people's money
for private and party purposes, also forbid the
exercise of any branch of the appointing power
for the same purpose. The fact that the public
conscience is outraged at every falsification of the
public accounts and every peculation of the pub-
lic moneys, yet takes but languid notice of the
appointment of the friends of thieves to be con-
stables and marshals, of ignorant politicians to be
justices, or of second or third class lawyers to be
judges, though abuses and disqualifications on
the part of these latter officials may be ten times
the most disastrous, only illustrates the lack of
political education and the need of reflection upon
all that pertains to one of the most vital and po-
tential powers of government. We allow, all
over the land, officers to appoint, almost without
criticism, an incompetent relative, or an ignorant
electioneering partisan, to official places, by rea-
son of which the public business greatly suffers
and official life is made disreputable; though we
should be justly astir for a conviction, if a single
dollar had been taken by a letter carrier, or a pair
of gloves—on which we, perhaps, had paid no
duties—had been abstracted by a baggage inspect-
or. It will be a great advance of public educa-
tion and of the public welfare in many ways,
when we shall have an intelligent public opinion
which will be indignant and outspoken upon
every prostitution of the high trust of the ap-
pointing power for party or selfish ends. And it
may not be without use to invite special attention
to the study and reflection required for compre-
hending how profoundly, and in what manifold
ways, in federal, state and municipal affairs, the
honest use of that power, for the selection of the
wisest, purest and most efficient, could be made
potential for the purification of politics and eleva-
tion of official life. Such teaching should find a
place in our schools and colleges. It is now the
accepted opinion of a great proportion of Our
people, if not that this power may justifiably be
568
REMOVALS FROM OFFICE.
used to advance the personal friends of the officer,
yet that it may be used to strengthen his party
and his faction. Upon that theory it is now gen-
erally exercised. (See SPOILs SYSTEM, PATRON-
AGE, PROMOTION.)— The abuses in connection
with the power of removal are by no means all
on the side of its selfish or partisan exercise.
The same malign influences which cause worthy
officials to be sent away, are as powerfully exerted
to keep the unworthy in their places. Those who
have been able to make the public service a hos-
pital for their dependents, combine to resent all
attempts to remove them. It may cost a post-
master or a head of a department his place to
send away the incompetent electioneering agent
of a great party chieftain, or even “the young
lady” recommended “by a congressman.” Offices
are frequently burdened with supernumeraries,
whom those having the power have not the cour-
age to remove. President Grant, in one of his
messages, referred to the fact that it was far easier
to remove the unworthy who came in through
Competition, and were therefore without influence
to keep them, than it was to remove the inefficient
favorites of great politicians. – Under despotic
forms of government—or where corruption, as in
Turkey, is habitually resorted to as an agency of
administration—there is of course no more pre-
tense of justice, or regard for moral obligation,
in exercising the power of removal, than of that
Of appointment. It is, without scruple, used to
reward favorites, to gain money, to suppress in-
dependence, to strengthen dynasties and hier-
archies. Cromwell used it, almost as freely as
did James and Charles, to uphold political and
religious partisans. Even as late as George III.
it was used for nearly or quite all those purposes,
and in the army and navy as well as in the civil
service. When liberty and justice were enough
advanced to enable party majorities to rule, the
dominant party began by prostituting that power
for Selfish ends in much the same spirit that the
corrupt tyrants of earlier days had done. — Soon
after the formation of the American constitution,
there arose a public opinion in Great Britain too
strong for the king to confront, which condemned
removals without cause, and such removals ceased.
Parties, there, have long since reached the sound
conclusion that even their own strength is not in-
Creased by mere partisan appointments or pro-
Scriptive removals. (See CIVIL SERVICE REFORM,
PROMOTIONS.)—From the beginning of our na-
tional administration until Jackson came to the
presidency, it was the accepted theory and the
Constant practice that removals were not to be
made without good cause; and that, unless in the
Cases of the legal advisers of the president and per-
haps a few others, political opinion did not con-
stitute such a cause. Under Jefferson and the
Second Adams especially, there was great press-
ure for removals for political reasons. But they,
and each of the first six presidents, standing upon
principle and a sense of public duty, nobly re-
sisted that partisan demand; altogether making
only seventy-three removals in the forty years
covered by their terms. Of these, Washington
made nine, and all for cause ; John Adams,
nine, and none on mere political grounds; Jeffer-
son, thirty-nine, of which he said none were for
party reasons; Madison, five; Monroe, nine; and
John Q. Adams only two, and both for cause. It
is certain that not One of these presidents made a
proscription or partisan removal according to the
later practice. With Jackson's accession to the
presidency a new spirit triumphed. Offices were
treated rather as party spoils than as public trusts.
Removals were made for the treble purpose of
punishing political opponents, of rewarding sub-
servient supporters, and “of strengthening the
party.” In the year from March 4, 1829, to
March 4, 1830, President Jackson appears to have
made 734 removals. Throughout his two terms
his use of the appointing power was in the same
intolerant and despotic spirit. In all the lower
grades of the public service, the president's ex-
ample was soon followed. The theory that pat-
ronage is essential to the vitality and usefulness
of parties, and that “to the victor belong the
spoils,” was generally enforced. The higher sen-
timent of the nation was outraged, and all official
life was humiliated and debased. We have no
space for enlarging upon the disastrous effects of
the spoils system then first established in the na-
tional administration. (See SPOILs SYSTEM, PAT-
RoNAGE.)—How thoroughly the theory enforced
at Washington was also enforced in the local offices
is well illustrated a few years later at the New
York custom house. One collector, there, in the
four years from 1858 to 1862, removed 389 of his
690 subordinates; another, of the opposite party,
in the three and a half years next following, re-
moved 525 out of 702 of those serving under him.
Nearly all these removals were for partisan rea-
sons. The duty of removing for cause was, by
reason of vicious political influence, but rarely
performed. And this reckless, demoralizing pro-
scription, fatal alike to efficiency in the customs
service, to purity in politics, and to all manly Self-
respect in the public service, continued there, and
generally prevailed in the whole civil administra-
tion, until the demand for a reform policy began
to be effective soon after 1871. In the five years,
or 1,565 secular days, preceding the year 1871,
there were 1,678 removals, and nearly all for mere
partisan reasons, in the New York custom house
—or, more than at the rate of one every Secular
day of the five years! — From the introduction of
the reform methods, in July, 1878, (under which
competitive examinations for admission to the
New York custom house have been since enforced),
until the 8th of September of that year, no re-
moval was there made. From the last-named date
to Feb. 20, 1881, (nearly two and a half years),
only forty-four removals were made in the office,
and all for cause, and hence none for political
reasons. From the last-named date to this time
(November, 1882), the removals have been upon
the same basis and in almost the same ratio, as in
RENT.
§69
the two and a half years preceding 1881. — The
effects of the new system upon removals, as en-
forced in the New York postoffice during the
same periods, have been almost identical with
those at the custom house. And at the several
other offices where competitive examinations, with
various defects and limitations, have been en-
forced, there has been a corresponding reduction
in the number of proscriptive removals. Like
results attended the enforcement of such examin-
ation at Washington under President Grant.— Pro-
scriptive and partisan removals (or, in other words,
removals without cause), are almost invariably
made in order to furnish a vacancy for some in-
fluential or strongly backed office seeker. And if
it were necessary that every such office seeker
should win the first place in a competitive exam-
ination before he could be appointed, there would
be few unjust removals, and the question as to a rea-
sonably permanent tenure of office would present
little difficulty, if it was not practically settled.
The class of men who are being pushed, or who
'beg and intrigue for office, are rarely those who
can win a place in an honest rivalry or competi-
tion of merit. The reasons why members of con-
gress refused to vote money to enable President
Grant to continue competitive examinations at
Washington, and why congress has given no aid
in support of the competitive or merit system at the
New York offices, are largely to be found in the
simple facts that the new system was fatal to all
arbitrary and proscriptive removals, and hence
destructive of the vast congressional patronage,
|by the aid of which so many members secure
their own elections, augment their influence and
importance, and get places for their henchmen
and favorites. Members of congress, whose duty
it is to make laws in aid of keeping the most use-
ful public servants in their places, have exerted a
very great part of that pernicious influence which
has so generally made our public servants the de-
pendents and servile agents of scheming officials
and unscrupulous chieftains. – During the last
few years there has been a rapid development of
a sentiment which condemns all removals without
cause. The people are beginning to take notice
of the abuse which is becoming more and more
an issue in the elections. If the more Sagacious
party leaders already see the need of arresting this
form of proscription and despotism, it is yet true
that very lately, and even within a few months,
the most arbitrary and indefensible removals have
been made. Upon each of the late changes in the
party majorities in the houses of congress, mere
ministerial subordinates have been changed in
order to gain partisan patronage. The time of the
national senate, during the past and present year,
has been largely given to mere factional conten-
tions, growing out of the attempted removals of
postmasters and collectors whose political opinions
all true statesmen must hold to be unimportant, if
not utterly immaterial. At the last session the
house was forced to a vote in order to retain a
skilled and invaluable clerk against a pressure of
many members who sought to put an inexpe-
rienced partisan of their own faction into his
place. The speaker of the present house of rep-
resentatives, merely for political reasons, has
arbitrarily removed one or more of its most effi-
cient stenographic reporters, in violation of the
spirit if not the letter of its own rules and usages,
which allow removals only for cause, and has ap-
pointed a successor, unequalin capacity, by reason
of which the business of the house appears to
have been embarrassed. (See speech of Mr.
Springer, “Congressional Record,” July 27, 1882.)
And while we are writing, the facts are laid be-
fore the public of a removal of a female post-
master, very recently made in Virginia, only for
the reason that a senator treats the sympathy of
her brother with the political faction which Op-
poses him as a sufficient cause for demanding
such removal . In state and municipal adminis-
tration, removals are constantly being made for
no better cause; by reason of which, men of high
self-respect and capacity scorn the public Service;
those in it are humiliated; administration is made
inefficient and needlessly expensive; and the in-
tensity, intrigue and corruption of party politics,
and the strife for places, are greatly increased. It
is not possible to exaggerate the discouraging,
humiliating effects upon the great body of the
civil servants, produced by the constant Sense
that no merits of their own, but an influence and
interests foreign to their sphere of duties, are
most potential for keeping them in their places;
or to overstate the demoralizing influence upon all
official and political life of so vast a power as
that of appointment and removal habitually used
in defiance of the highest obligations of morality,
patriotism, and the Official Oath.
DORMAN B. EATON.
RENT. This is the term recognized in politi-
cal economy, to denote the net product of the land,
7. e., that portion of the total product, which,
after deducting what covers the expense of pro-
duction, remains, and constitutes a surplus. This
surplus naturally reverts to the owners of the
soil; they gather it themselves when they work
their own lands; they receive it from the hands
of farmers or metayers when they leave to others
the care of making them productive; in all cases,
the rent forms part of the property. We must
not, however, confound it with the price paid by
one who hires a farm, (called sometimes farm
rent), although it is one of the elements of the
latter. Every case of farm rent, every leasing
price, whether payable in money or in kind, in-
cludes something additional, viz., the remunera-
tion due the land owners for expenditures made
by them at various times in the past, to facilitate
labor or increase its results. The buildings for
farm service or for residence, the fences, ditches
and plantations which the farm embraces, have
often cost considerable sums, and it is just that
those who enjoy the advantages connected with
their existence, should pay all or a part of the in-
fi'70
RENT.
terest on the capital that had to be devoted to
them. On the other hand, the conditions of the
lease of lands have been discussed by the con-
tracting parties, and may have been so determined
as to favor either, Nevertheless, wherever the
price for the use of the farm is payable in money,
there is a constant tendency for it to include the
entire rent. Rent is a net product; it is only real-
ized when active industry has been fully remu.
nerated, and it is not less difficult for farmers to
reserve any of it for themselves, than for propri-
etors to induce farmers to sacrifice to them a part
of the profits due to their improvements. But,
whatever may be the nature of the circumstances
which determine the apportionment of the rent of
land between the owner and farmer, they can
neither permanently effect its real amount nor
alter its original character. — Among the great
facts to which the attention of economists has
been drawn, few have given rise to so many con-
troversies as the rent of lands. What it is, its
origin, its proportions, its effects, its legitimacy
even, everything connected with its existence, has
been the object of long and patient investigations,
and still harmony has not yet been established be-
tween the differing opinions. This is the more
to be regretted, because, in this very question of
rent are involved many other problems of deep
social import, and the effects of its solution nat-
urally extend far beyond the limits which scien.
tific investigation has attained. — We will here
commence by pointing out the order in which the
opinions on the matter of rent originated; we will
note their characteristic differences; then we will
take up the question in its whole extent, and, in
our course, we shall find occasion to show how
far each of the theories before us seems to depart
from or to approach the truth, so far as the best
established facts permit us to discern it. — It was
the physiocratic school who first enunciated an
opinion on the nature of rent. They character-
ized it as the net product of the land, and in this
they were not in error; but soon, attributing to it
an extreme and exclusive importance, they made
it the only source of public and private wealth.
We know how erroneous a doctrine must be,
which is based on the idea that no other labor
than that on land can obtain more than the equiv-
alent of the values it consumes, a doctrine deny-
ing productive power to employments without
which most things produced from the land would
themselves remain unsuited to use, and not ad-
mitting that men could realize any other riches
than that which the natural fertility of the soil
put at their disposal. However, in spite of this
fundamental error which vitiated all their conclu-
sions, we can not deny the physiocrates the merit
of having apprehended well the character of rent
and having given a pretty accurate definition of
it. Among their observations on the natural in-
crease of rent, there are also some which are both
just and important. The net product, rent, is the
excess which is left from the crops after the ex-
penses of cultivation are reimbursed; it is the
* "
portion of the fruits of the earth from which the
non-agricultural classes subsist; and, doubtless, in
the normal and regular order of things, the great-
er or less amount of this excess has a strong in-
fluence on the degree of power and prosperity in
reserve for nations. – With and by the illustrious.
Adam Smith, began what may rightfully be called
true economic science. The opinion of Smith on
the subject of rent is much like that of the phys-
iocrates. It is substantially as follows: In labor
on land, nature acts conjointly with man, and
rent is the product of its co-operative power. It
is this co-operative power of the earth, the enjoy-
ment of which landholders grant in consideration
of a price for the lease based upon a proportional
share of the sum at which it figures in the results.
of production. — The opinion of Adam Smith
has obtained the assent of most economists. J.
B. Say, Storch, Rossi and Rau adopted it, or va-
ried little from it. Dr. Anderson, however, had
previously presented a harmonious series of ideas.
on the subject, which were at the same time more
complex and better developed.” But his system.
did not attract attention until after having been.
reproduced again in the writings of Malthus and
Ricardo, and it is under the name of the latter
that he has taken a place in economic science. —
The starting point of Ricardo is in reality the
same as that of Adam Smith. What the latter
calls the co-operative power of land, Ricardo
calls natural fertility, or Original powers; but
what he has added to the fundamental notion is,
an exposition of the rules which, in his opinion,
govern the formation and progressive increase of
rent. According to Ricardo, rent is not solely
the result of a natural fertility which permits the
land to return, to those who cultivate it, harvests.
superior to their needs; it arises from the unequal
distribution of this fertility. So long as the pop-
ulation, having plenty of room, can work only
the best lands at their disposal, there is no rent:
but just as soon as, on account of their increase
in numbers, the same population are compelled,
in order to procure means of subsistence, to at-
tack lands of inferior quality, rent arises and be-
comes the share of the proprietors of the portions.
of the soil that were first cultivated. And the
following is his explanation. Being less fertile
than the others, the lands on which the labor is
expended can not return, for a like expenditure
in cultivation, as great a product. The crops
they yield require additional expense and labor,
and as it has become impossible for Society to do
without its complement of supplies, it is Com-
pelled to pay for provisions whatever price is
necessary to insure production on land that has
just been cleared. In this inevitable movement,
it is the net cost of the produce on the worst land
to which recourse must be had, which fixes the
general price, and consequently determines the
* A main point in Anderson's theory was, that increased de-
mand for food leads to increase of price, and this permits ad-
ditional cost to be bestowed in bringing inferior land into cul-
tivation. (See Macleod's Econ. Phil., vol. ii., p. 29.)—E. J. L.
RENT.
571.
profits of the proprietors of the land first culti-
wated, the realization of which secures them a
rent. They sell at a higher price what they ob-
tain without increased cost or advances, and find
themselves masters of a greater surplus than they
had before prices had risen. A like effect is again
produced whenever the necessity of increasing
the arable domain is felt. Worse lands are Con-
tinually being brought under cultivation ; the
price of produce rises because of the increased
Outlay they require ; and, at each advance in
prices which takes place, rent is seen to arise
where it did not previously exist, and to increase
where it had already arisen. Such are the ideas
on which the theory is based which is called by
Ricardo's name. This theory affirms, or at least
appears to affirm, that rent has no other source
than the difference in the degree of fertility be.
tween different portions of the soil: it attributes
its origin and development to no other principle
than the continual rise in the market price of
food, and it makes the difference between a gen-
eral price current, regulated by the expenses con-
nected with production in localities where these
expenses are greatest, and the particular net cost
in the other portions of the soil, the measure of
the rent that each of the latter affords Or is
adapted to afford. — Ricardo's theory was of
course widely taken into consideration by the
economic world. It gave, or seemed to give, the
explanation of a certain number of facts, which,
at the time when it originated, were receiving
much attention from the public. Moreover, many
writers accepted it fully; and it was not until our
day that it found decided opponents. Attacked
first in England by Prof. Jones, of Hailebury, it
was afterward assailed by adversaries whose deni-
als extended even to the principle to which Smith
had given his adhesion. — A very distinguished
American economist, Mr. Carey, has denied that
the natural fertility of the soil is among the
causes productive of rent. In his view, rent has
no other source than the expenses successively
incurred in the interest of production. And
among these expenses he includes, besides those
of which the lands under cultivation have been
the direct object, the construction of roads, canals,
and any means of communication designed to
facilitate transportation and to render the markets
accessible to products which, if they could not
have reached them, would not have been de-
manded of the soil. Mr. Carey, moreover, has
endeavored to demonstrate that Ricardo was en-
tirely wrong in regard to the order in which
cultivation has taken place, and that it has not
begun with the most fertile lands, but with those
most easily cleared, or the nearest to centres of
consumption. Taking Mr. Carey's opinions in
their plain signification, they consist in denying to
the land itself any participation in the formation
of rent; in attempting to prove that all this rent
represents only the remuneration for advances
made to render the soil amenable to culture; in a
Word, that rent is and can be only a simple crea-
tion of human industry. — Such is also the point
of view from which rent was regarded by a man
whose premature loss science can not too deeply
deplore. M. Bastiat, dreading the consequences
of any doctrine which seemed to authorize the
admission that wealth could exist which was not
exclusively the product of services or of human
efforts, started with the same idea as Mr. Carey.
According to him, rent is and can be only the
interest on the capital invested in clearing the .
soil and preparing it for production. Only M.
Bastiat recognizes that rent may occur without
the proprietor having to make any sacrifice to
reap the benefit of an unexpected increase : and
this case he explains by remarking that there is
nothing peculiar in landed property; that what
creates the value of the services rendered by
every employment of human industry, whatever
agent it may use, is not alone the efforts made by
the producer, but also the efforts spared to the
consumer; and that the latter, whenever his wants
increase, pays more for the service rendered him.
in saving him the more costly efforts he would
have to make to provide for himself without such.
aid. It is much to be regretted that M. Bastiat.
did not have time to make a precise and well-
arranged statement of his ideas before his death.
It was in connection with the treatment of real
estate that he announced them, in the clever
book he published under the title of “Economic
Harmonies.” The special chapter that he pro-
posed to devote to rent was scarcely outlined,
and what has been preserved of it consists only
of incomplete fragments, in which the author's
ideas are not clearly discernible. — Such are the
principal opinions to which the existence of rent
has given rise. Their antagonism is very marked.
While some attribute the formation of rent to
the co-operative action of nature in agricultural
labor, others, denying all influence to this action,
consider rent only as the remuneration for the
expenses and efforts by which mankind have
succeeded in transforming the earth into an instru-
ment of production. We will review the whole
subject, and attempt to ascertain the truth amid
the obscurities and complications which have
hitherto hindered its successful investigation. —
Origin of Rent. There are, in the first place, two
things which it seems to us impossible to contest.
One is, that the earth is endowed with fertility;
the other, that it is not equally so in all parts. It
is a fact no less evident, that this fertility does
not even need the co-operation of man in order
to manifest itself. In the most uncultivated con-
dition the land never fails to be covered with
vegetable growths, some of which can supply
food and support animals whose flesh may be
eaten; and it is the land which, by insuring to
the human race at the beginning harvests already
produced, has permitted it to escape the destruc-
tive effects of famine. Of course, men had to
be at the trouble of gathering the fruit, pulling
up the roots, and catching the game and the fish
on which they subsisted; but if such efforts had
572
RENT.
alone the power of conferring value on the prod-
ucts which the earth of itself put within their
reach, it is none the less true that where these
products were more abundant or more easily
obtainable, less effort was needed to appropriate
them, to adapt them to use; in a word, to convert
them into exchangeable wealth. Well, it is to
this natural fertility of the earth, which has from
the beginning put its inhabitants in the way of
obtaining means of subsistence which were not
wholly the fruit of their labor even, that rent
owes its origin. Rent is the surplus realized over
the expense of production, and wherever it was
possible to those who, in any way whatever,
labored to gather the fruits of the earth, to amass
more of them than their personal necessities re-
quired, there was a surplus to their advantage,
which was rent, and rent very evidently due to
the fertility of the portion of the soil on which
their industry had been employed. — The most
Savage tribes have nothing to learn in this regard.
They contest with each other the occupation of
places where the waters most abound in fish, or
where the land furnishes the most game or fruit;
and this is because they well know that as long as
they keep exclusive possession of it, they will
derive from a given amount of effort, time and
fatigue, a quantity of the means of subsistence
superior to what they would obtain on less favored
portions of the soil; in a word, an actual excess
over the expenses of production, which would be
everywhere else less amply repaid. — We will
say more. From the first, the earth must, in
certain places, have conferred a rent on those
who as yet knew only how to gather its sponta-
neous productions, as otherwise civilization could
not have arisen and commenced to advance.
While most of the savage tribes were exhausting
themselves in efforts to find enough to prevent
them from dying of starvation, others, more fa-
vored, obtained, without any more skill or effort,
resources more than sufficient to supply their ne-
cessities; and the latter were not long in bettering
their condition. Free to provide in advance for fu-
ture consumption, it became possible for them to
devote leisure to occupations other than the mere
search for food. They could make weapons, the
implements needed in fishing and hunting, and
the means of deriving more profit from their labor;
and in the end, they could amass the provisions
or capital whose possession would enable them to
undertake the breaking up and cultivating the
land. We may safely assert, that, if Providence
had not so disposed things that the earth offered
in some places, to its earliest inhabitants, products
which it did not take all their time and care to
obtain, the savage manner of life would never
have come to an end: men would to-day be still
wandering naked and hungry, a prey to invinci-
ble poverty, distinguished in no respect from the
animals called into existence at the same time
with themselves. – The invention of the art of
agriculture did not alter the nature of the primor-
dial fact. There had been, during previous peri-
Ods, lands which had yielded to those who sought
their products, more than they needed for sub-
sistence : there were, under the new order of
things, lands which yielded to those who culti-
vated them, more than was necessary to compen-
sate them for their trouble and expense. Wher-
ever, after deducting the amount of the advances
they required, lands left a surplus, this surplus
constituted a rent. Wherever, for example, two
workmen succeeded in realizing, beyond the re-
turns due to capital immobilized with a view to
production, products in a quantity sufficient to
provide for the consumption of three, the rent
Was equivalent to the part of the resources neces-
Sary for the subsistence of a man and to pay for
his services; and this rent was the result of the
fertility of the soil; for, at points less favored,
the same amount of work would not have obtained
a like surplus; and at certain points it would not,
had it been employed, have even obtained enough
to indemnify those who had made the expenditure.
— The reader will see, that, like Adam Smith, we
attribute the origin of rent to the existence in the
soil itself of forces or properties naturally pro-
ductive. Thanks to the assistance these forces
give men whenever they require it, their efforts
obtain, besides the remuneration which is their
due, an excess which may be so disposed of as to
favor other kinds of consumption than that of
agricultural laborers. Never has this aid been
lacking to those who have sought it. It was this
which, even before agriculture was commonly re-
Sorted to, supplied unfortunate Savage tribes, in
possession of good fishing and hunting districts,
with means of subsistence sufficiently abundant
for them not to be compelled to sacrifice all the
time at their disposal in search for food: this it
was, too, which, in ages more advanced, by per-
mitting proprietors of cultivated land to harvest
more products than they expended in production,
gave them the power to remunerate labors other
than those expended on the soil, and to call into
existence manufacturing and commercial classes
and give them a position of continually increasing
importance in the ranks of the population. — Be-
fore examining the systems which are not in har-
mony with this opinion, or which differ from it,
there is one assertion in reference to which we
must enter into some explanation; for if it were
well founded, rent could be regarded as having
no other original cause than the power of the
earth co-operating with the labor devoted to ob-
taining its products. This assertion is, that there
is no rent in countries where land is so abundant
that every one is free to appropriate to himself
such a portion as he likes without compensation,
or for a trifle. Rossi and some other economists
have freely admitted the fact, and M. Bastiat has
found in it a point of support for his system.
Let us see where the truth lies. It is certain, that,
where land is abundant, its products have little
sale value, because they have few consumers and
lack a market; but does it follow, that, on the few
portions where cultivation exists, those who em-
RENT.
573
ploy it do not find in the original properties of
the soil an aid eminently profitable, and do not
obtain crops out of proportion to their efforts for
subsistence? Suppose a country where all the
people cultivated land, and where they could not
sell provisions to neighbors because the latter were
as well provided for as themselves: the beneficent
effects resulting from the co-operative action of
the soil would still be felt. In such a country, no
one would try to realize a surplus which could
find no purchasers: every one would only demand
of the soil the means of subsistence required for ||
his own family: but, as little labor would be nec-
essary to obtain this, the husbandman would en-
joy long periods of leisure; and leisure is always,
to those who know how to employ it, a source of
wealth. The time not required in cultivating
land, they would employ in making articles
adapted to satisfy other demands than those of
hunger. They would make clothing, furniture
and dwellings; and these are products whose ac-
quisition would be due to the co-operation of the
land with their efforts. A relief from incessant
labor, and leisure that can be employed in repro-
ductive occupations, are what the earth gives
those who cultivate it, whenever they do not
know what to do with the surplus it yields. This
is, in reality, rent, under a form sufficiently char-
acterized.— But, let us observe, things have never
occurred altogether in this manner. Wherever
cultivation of the soil has become established, it
has never alone attracted all persons, and it has
always found consumers who did not share in its
labors. So far back as we can trace in history,
we find no social aggregation without magis-
trates, priests, soldiers and artisans, all supported
from the portion of the crops which the agricult-
ural population could spare ; and this portion
was no other than the excess produced by the
land. It has often been affirmed that rent long
was, and still is, unknown in some parts of North
America. “But lately,” says M. Rossi, in speak-
ing of the ideas of the physiocrates on the net
product of the land, “there was no rent or scarce-
ly any rent in America, and yet there was a great
abundance of all the necessaries of life, and the
course of Society was toward great prosperity and
rapid development.” It is true that the conditions
under which the colonization of North America
has been effected, differ in all respects from those
which governed the formation of social bodies in
the old world ; but the opinion of M. Rossi is,
nevertheless, incorrect. One thing which does not
exist in America, or exists there only in a very
few localities, is the practice of hiring farms, and
the reason for it is simply this . As land there
costs very little, those who wish to till it, buy the
ground on which they settle; and the acquisition
counts but little in the list of expenses incurred in
their industry; but there is in America a town pop-
ulation, who buy, either for consumption or export,
the surplus which the local circumstances bring
into market, and the agriculturists retain, by their
right as proprietors, an actual rent. It is also true
that nowhere in America does the surplus bear a
definite relation to the expense of production; no-
where in that country does the agricultural class,
after having recovered its advances, offer the other
classes as much of the means of subsistence and re-
munerate as well their services; and it is just this
which causes such an abundance and so many ele-
ments of life and prosperity in the Union. Some
writers have thought that the surplus which Amer-
ican cultivators have to dispose of should not be
considered as the result of the natural fertility of
the soil, but simply a return for the capital in-
vested in their operations. One need but examine
the matter closely to see that it is quite otherwise.
It is not because the general rate of profit is very
high in America, that the land there brings in a
good return to those who take advantage of its
fertility: it is, on the contrary, because the land
cultivated, which is still wholly choice land, re-
turns much, that the rate of profits is high. Capi-
tal goes where it brings most. In America, as
everywhere else, it is not invested in manufactures
or commerce, except when it will yield as much
as if employed in agriculture; and it is the amount
of the net income from the soil which largely re-
pays cultivation, that secures to all investments of
Savings, and to every employment of human ac-
tivity, the ample remuneration they receive. As-
suredly, if the vast territory of America were
only composed of lands of a low degree of fer-
tility, the expense necessarily incurred to obtain
subsistence from them, would be more consider-
able, agricultural capital would produce less, and
neither the general rate of profits nor that of wages
would be maintained at the height they have now
attained and are continuing to keep. — Europe
does not lack countries where land is abundant,
and has only a low sale value. It is incontestable
that rent exists in these places; and as the facts
which give it a distinguishing characteristic are
of a nature to throw much light on the question,
we will say a few words in regard to them. In
Hungary, Russia, and many parts of the original
Poland and the principalities of the Danube, the
rural population, held in servitude, or but recently
having ceased to be so held, are, in general, too
poor and too ignorant to purchase the land and
subject themselves to the risks and perils conse-
quent upon settlement. What is the result 2. It is
that the proprietors, like American agriculturists,
cultivate and harvest on their own account. Ordi-
narily, they leave the laborers, as their wages, the
use of a piece of land, which the latter cultivate
for the support of their families, and for which
they are bound to give two or three days’ labor
per week to the rest of the estate. This arrange-
ment clearly shows wherein consists the rent of
the proprictor. It is the result of the employment,
on his land, of the time which the laborers can
spare from that which gives them their own sub-
sistence. And let it be observed, that this time
can be attributed by the laborers to nothing else
than the natural fertility of the soil whose cultiva-
tion furnishes them their whole living. When-
574
RENT.
ever the laborers devote to other fields than those
which they are permitted to enjoy, two days’ work
per week, the surplus over the general expenses of
production, the rent is but little inferior to two-
thirds of the total product. — Now, there are, in
these same countries, some places where reside
either colonists of foreign origin, or peasants in
full possession of the lands they cultivate, who
often have more land than they can till. This is
the case in America. Does any one think that
rent does not exist in such places, as well as in the
rest of the country? If so, he is greatly mistaken.
The part which reverts to the proprietors, in cases
where the laborers give their fields two days’ labor
every week, the cultivators retain for themselves
when they are absolute masters of the soil, and if
they do not harvest it, it is because they find they
can more profitably employ the time which they
refrain from devoting to agriculture. — In what-
ever way we look at the question, on whatever
side we take hold of it, we must always end by
recognizing that the earth gives rise to rent, and
that, even where the conditions of society are such
as to prevent all being derived from land which
it might produce, there is a compensation for this
in the leisure it affords that can be employed in
other avocations. – Let us come to the theory
adopted by both Carey and Bastiat. They deny
that the earth can add anything of its own to the
results of labor. In their view, land is only an
instrument, an agent, of production, which man
employs, and not a single element can be found in
rent which is not wholly the product of the ex-
pense incurred to render the land fertile. M. Bas-
tiat thought, that to admit the co-operative action
of the soil in the benefits connected with produc-
tion, would be to recognize that wealth might ex-
ist which was not due to labor, and that the earth
had the power to create such wealth. Let us look
at this point. No One, Surely, of any repute among
economists, has maintained that anything which
nature has prepared for the use of human beings,
has value before having been the object of some
kind of labor;” but, positing this principle, is it
the less true that the earth, if it does not furnish
things which already have value, does afford
those adapted to receive it, and that, whenever it
furnishes these things in such abundance or so
easily obtainable that the labor employed in com-
municating value} to them costs less than it pro-
duces, there results an excess over the expense in-
curred, which is not found when the efforts of
man are otherwise exerted? Here is the funda-
mental point of the discussion, the point of fact.
* Surely M. Passy can not think that Gemovesi, Beccaria,
Verri, the physiocrates, Hume, Condillac, Bastiat, Whateley,
and all the other economists who have considered the cause
of value to lie in human desire, thought there could be no
demand for anything except that on which labor had been
expended! How would he account for the value of undevel-
oped mines, quarries, etc., and what is more, for the value of
labor itself?—E. J. L.
t Here M. Passy falls into the error (pointed out by Storch
in his Polit. Econ.) of confounding the production of articles
which have value with the production of their value.—E. J. L.
To affirm that this surplus would not be realized
without taking the trouble to obtain it, is to say
little; for that is not contested. What should be
proved is, that it would be possible without the
co-operation of the earth, and that there are in-
dustries not agricultural or extractive which have
also the power to produce rent.f Now, this proof
is wanting, and Surely never will be given. As
to the objection that it is demand, which, by as-
Suring a value to the agricultural surplus, has
alone the power to create it and to convert it into
wealth, and that demand constitutes an action
purely human, it has its responses in what has just
been said in reference to the assertion, that there
is no rent in regions where the land, while wait-
ing for a more complete private appropriation,
has as yet little or no exchange value. — It is in
vain for One to seek to delude himself. The land
alone returns more than is needed to pay wages,
interest and profit on the capital required to cul-
tivate it; and as there is no other way in which
labor can be applied to obtain a like surplus, we
must recognize in the existence of rent the result
of a co-operative action exercised by the earth
itself. It would be wrong that the fear of having
to admit that there is a gift from God, now the
exclusive share of a certain number of his crea-
tures, should influence our opinions; for this gift
is an evident fact; and besides, without it, it
would have been utterly impossible for humanity
to fulfill its destiny in this world; and, if this
gift has not continued the common domain, it is
because it has pleased its author that it should
produce its beneficent effect only on condition of
becoming an object of private appropriation.
All this it would be very easy to demonstrate,
were this the place to do so. — It remains for us
to make a few observations on the particular
points which characterize the theory called Ricar-
do’s. This theory fully admits the existence of
productive properties in the soil, which belong to
it; but it accords to it the power of creating rent
only in virtue of the fact that these qualities are
not equally distributed through it. This is tak-
ing one of the circumstances which concur in
producing the differences in the price of rents for
the cause which gives rise to them. The origin
of rent, as we have said, is the power of the land
to return to those who cultivate it more products
than they need for their subsistence and the re-
covery of the amount of their advances; and
wherever the lands are adapted to do that, any
one who desires can obtain from them this excess,
that is to say, a rent. Nor is there any need, as
Ricardo supposes, of a rise in prices in Order for
rent to begin; rent appears the moment when the
f The income from talents and moral qualities, being due
to the “natural fertility" or “productive power" of the
mind, bears so many points of resemblance to what M.
Passy treats of under the title “Rent of the Soil,” that some
economists put it in the same category. Storch, in his Cours
d’Economie Politique, devotes a chapter (chap. v., book iii.)
to the “Rent of Talents and Moral Qualities.”
§ The reader will see how far this was from being a re-
Sponse.—E. J. L.
RENT.
575
gathered crops leave a part disposable, and it is
realized when those who harvest, finding consum-
ers for that part, devote more time to their work
than they would have to sacrifice if they limited
their efforts to gathering only for themselves.
Finally, it is a very simple matter to state how
far Ricardo's theory conforms to the reality. One
has only to examine what would happen in a
country where the lands were all of the same
quality, all adapted to remunerate labor liberally,
and all so situated as to enjoy the same advan-
tages for the sale of their products. Well, in
this case, see what would happen As every-
where else, the population would obey the laws
which urged them to multiply, and as everywhere
else, they would rise to the level of the subsist-
ence that agricultural labor could procure for
them. There would be an increasing demand,
and the cultivators, certain of a market for that
portion of the harvest which they would not
themselves need, would devote enough time to
their labors to gather it, enough time to obtain a
rent. The more the town population or indus-
trial classes increase in number, the more would
be demanded of the soil by cultivation, the wider
would be the extent cultivated, and the more
would rent increase. In such a country leasing
of farms would appear; there would be found at
the same time proprietors possessing more lands
than they could themselves cultivate, or desirous
of ridding themselves of the whole or some part
of their burden of personal labor, and workmen
disposed to take their place or to offer prices for
a lease, proportioned to the amount of net income
which they judged the soil capable of furnishing.
"The principal error of Ricardo's theory consisted
in ascribing a decisive influence to the rise in the
exchange value of the means of subsistence,
which he thought inevitable. — Causes which ºn-
fluence the Value of Rent. It is an incontestable
fact that the price of rent has risen in proportion
as civilization and the comforts of life have in-
creased in human society. It is essential to state
clearly the causes under the influence of which
this has been effected. — There are three causes
of which account has been taken. One is the in-
corporation into the soil of the capital necessary
to render it more and more productive; the sec-
ond is the gradual extension of cultivation, over
lands either less fertile or more difficult to bring
under cultivation than those which had already
been applied to for crops; the third is the con-
tinual improvements in the application of agri-
cultural labor and skill. . We will point out their
effects, and, as far as possible, estimate the ex-
tent of each. — As we have said, rent is the por-
tion of the fruits of the earth obtained over the
expenses of production or quantities necessary |
to satisfy the demands of those who work the
land ; and, in the Savage State, the most fer-
tile lands leave some surplus at the disposal of
their masters. But as soon as a population, in
stead of confining itself to gathering the sponta,
neous productions of the soil, undertook to direct
its active forces, to the primitive profit were added
other portions of the product, these latter being
due to the immobilization of capital or advances
made in the interest of production. Before sowing
seed, it was necessary to break and clear the land,
and the work, almost always long and toilsome,
cost much. This done, they had to level and pre-
pare a soil full of hollows and humps, in conse-
quence of the extraction of the roots; and then,
to execute numerous works, some of which were
designed to facilitate labor, others to insure the
preservation of the crops; and, by degrees, a con-
siderable amount of capital was incorporated into
the fields brought under cultivation. What is to
be remarked, is, that this capital, for the most
part, returned not only the amount of the inter-
est and profits acquired by its employment, but,
thanks to the impulse it gave to the co-operative
power of the earth, it made to spring up, besides,
a new surplus, to increase that which existed pre-
vious to its consumption. Consequently, in the
present condition of rents, the latter combine
three elements having a distinct origin. It would
be idle, moreover, to attempt to state exactly the
proportionate part of any one of these elements,
or even to decide what is only a suitable return
for outlays embodied in material improvements'
all that can be affirmed is, that what holds the
least place is the primitive element and it is very
easy for any one to assure himself of this if he
will merely notice wherein consists that which
uncultivated lands yield to the wild tribes who
live on their natural products. The two others,
on the contrary, are by far the more powerful.
Clearing of land, in our day, is very costly, and
certainly must have been far more so originally,
because of the coarseness and imperfection of the
processes and the instruments in use. On the other
hand, there are farms and metairies [i. e., small
farms in France let on halves to the cultivator.—
Trans.] where the value expended in constructions
and buildings for use, fences, ditches, and per
manent works, is equivalent to from a third to a
half of that of the land cultivated. This explains
why there are economists who, impressed by the
great and constant sacrifices made with a view to
production, will not see in rent anything but the
amount of the indemnity to which these sacrifices
entitle those who make them. — The necessity for
a people who are increasing in numbers, to extend
cultivation over lands lying fallow, has been
ranked among the causes which exert a decisive
influence on the price of rent. The reader has
seen, in what we have said of Ricardo's theory,
what consequences that writer attributes to it. In
his opinion, prices rise gradually as labor has to
take up with lands less adapted to recompense its
efforts: it is the expense incurred where it is least
remunerated, which fixes the exchange value of
the means of subsistence, and hence the rise and
progressive increase of rent. — People certainly
consult, in the choice of lands to bring under
cultivation, the degree of productiveness which
these lands present at the time ; and, in the
576
RENT.
natural order of the development of labor, they
only attack the poorer lands when the others
have ceased to provide sufficiently for the exigen-
cies of consumption. It is an evil that all lands
are not at the same time better and of like quality.
Humanity would be better off for a different dis-
tribution of the natural fertility of the soil from
which it is fed: but has this evil all the effects
, attributed to it? Does the upward movement
which it tends to give the prices of products
really take place as people suppose? Are there
not causes of decline at work, which on their side
are sufficient to maintain such relations between
the expense and the results of production, as to
prevent suffering in the community? This is a
question of the utmost importance, and demands
a serious examination. — We have not thus far
taken sufficient account of the influence on rent
and prices, of the progressive development of
knowledge of agricultural affairs. Of all causes
this acts most energetically and constantly, and
its effects are the most decisive. Sometimes it
reduces the expenses of production by a given
quantity of provisions. Sometimes it increases
the quantity harvested at the same outlay; and,
in both cases, it raises the rent by increasing
the surplus obtained after deducting expenses;
and, at the same time, it arrests the rise in price
while multiplying the amount of provisions des-
timed to meet the demands of consumption. —
One single thing might take away, from progress
in the art of agriculture, the power of raising the
rent. This would be if the sale value of the prod-
ucts diminished in proportion as labor, having
become more enlightened and more powerful, suc-
ceeded in deriving more produce from the lands.
But, as we know, the means of subsistence have
the privilege of never waiting long for a demand.
As soon as they become more abundant, the popu-
lation is not long in multiplying, and soon wants
rise to the level of the supply. And is there not
also a saving realized in the expense of cultiva-
tion, an improvement in the application of the
efforts of labor, which does not increase the part
of the product which remains met after expenses
are deducted, and which consequently does not
add to the rent of the proprietors? — In what
measure has the diminution in the expense of pro-
duction due to the improved application of labor,
served to raise rent, and to preserve the higher
prices which the extension of cultivation to new
lands tended to produce? It would be impossible
to state positively; but there is no doubt that this
double effect has been fully produced. — See, in
the first place, what an economy in manual labor
the gradual improvement of the instruments of
production has brought about. Not only good
modern plowshares perform in one day twice as
much work at least as the best plows of the an-
cients, but they break lands formerly impenetrable
to the share, and they plow the others more deep-
ly. To reaping-hooks of brass or beaten iron have
succeeded Scythes highly tempered, under the
blade of which crops fall rapidly and without loss,
which, before their invention, required a much
larger number of hands. All the tools and ma-
chines which were known in the middle ages have
been improved, and, thanks to new inventions,
there is no country even but little advanced in
agriculture, which does not contain a good number
of others of quite superior efficiency. — This is,
however, but the smallest part of the improve-
ments realized. For the productions originally
demanded of the earth, similar ones, which are
both more hardy and of better yield, have been
gradually substituted. By the side of the vege-
tables then cultivated, or in their place, have come
new species from the most distant parts of the
globe, which have been admitted in the rotations
of crops, because of the increase of product they
give on a like surface. This is not all: science
has not ceased to reveal new means of fertiliza-
tion. Materials whose power was unknown have
added to the effect of fertilizers; substances that
had been left unused have been mixed with arable
beds, and have communicated to them the pro-
ductive qualities which were lacking; and culti-
vation has been more widely developed and made
increasingly productive. In consequence, lands
that were despised at the close of the last century,
for want of knowledge how to utilize them, have,
with small outlay, taken rank among the most
fertile, and some, like those characterized in Eng-
land as poor lands, and in France as lean and dry,
are to-day considered the most easily worked, and
are farmed out at the highest price. And as to
the other lands, we might show some in France,
which, sixty years ago, yielded scarcely ten or
eleven hectolitres to a hectare (i. e., less than
twelve bushels to an acre), which now yield eight-
een to twenty hectolitres. This is an addition of
about 140 francs (about $27); and it is important
to observe that this addition has only involved an
increase of less than 70 francs in expense. Also,
farm rents which did not reach 35 francs have
risen to 70 or 80 francs, while yielding to those
who paid them larger and surer profits. Certainly
this is a case where the increased power of art has
done more, of itself alone, to raise rent, than all
other causes combined.— Such facts (and it would
not be difficult to cite many others) attest suffi-
ciently the effects of the successive conquests of
human intelligence, and how, by gradually re-
ducing both the toil and the outlay appropriated
to production, they must have increased the net
product of the land, and consequently the rent.
That they have sufficed at the same time, to pre-
vent the price of provisions from rising, and to
restrain the effect of the inconveniences connected
with the extension of cultivation to lands of in-
ferior quality, is so much the more certain be-
cause there has been effected in Europe another
improvement, which, by itself alone, would have
permitted the population to double, without re-
course being had to new portions of the soil, and
without any increasing demand for grain. This
improvement is in the grinding of grain the
quantity of grain, which during the sixteenth
RENT.
577
century, only yielded 100 lbs. of flour at the mill,
now yields more than 190, owing to the successive
improvements in the processes employed. — It
should also be remarked, that, during the mid-
dle ages, the improvements in agriculture were
both slow and little marked : the agricultural
classes were ignorant, and their occupations were
regarded with contempt. In our day, on the
contrary, they are more enlightened; and on the
other side, the natural sciences have put within
their reach a multitude of inventions which it has
become possible for them to utilize. Moreover,
for the last fifty years especially, two well-attested
facts have been noticeable: one is the stability or
the decline in the price of cereals in most of the
advanced countries; the other is a rise in rent
and the leasing price of farms with a rapidity
unknown at previous periods. – There is, how-
ever, one fact of considerable consequence, which
seems irreconcilable with the statement we have
just given, and which, on that account, calls for
an explanation. This fact is the decline in the
price of wheat in the least populous countries of
Europe. Thus, wheat is worth only 10 to 11
francs a hectolitre in Hungary, and only 9 to 15
in Russia and Poland, according to the provinces.
On the contrary, it has been worth, on an aver-
age, for the last ten years, 16 francs 40 centimes
in Prussia, 16 fr. 60 c. in Spain, 18 fr. 74 c. in
France, and a little more than 22 francs in Eng-
land. Surely, these figures differ enough to attest
that abundance of land permits wheat to be pro-
duced on conditions which cease to be as advan-
tageous in proportion as the land becomes limited.
Doubtless it is indeed so. A thinly scattered
population are free to sow only the better portions
of the soil they occupy, and to leave each of the
parts which have just furnished a harvest, to rest;
and it is certain, that, owing to this mode of
changing the localities cultivated, wheat is ob-
tained at less expense than if they were obliged,
in order to supply the more urgent necessities, to
confine their labors more persistently and contin-
uously to the same arable fields. But it is essen-
tial to remark that western Europe has passed
through ages during which this mode of culture
sufficed for the exigencies of consumption, and
yet everything combines to strengthen the belief
that it was not then provided with food in the
same abundance nor at as low a price as it now
is. The following reasons support this assertion.
Doubtless it would be impossible to prove exactly
what was the price of wheat in France five or six
centuries ago. The measures of capacity, not-
withstanding the identity of name, differed enor-
mously in their contents, not only in different
provinces, but even in different parishes in the
same province. In the Second place, the average
prices, when obtained, confounded, under the
designation of wheat, cereals of all sorts: finally,
the purchasing power of money was greatly in
excess of what it is in our day, when the coin and
paper in circulation are abundant; but it is suf-
ficient to read, in the authentic acts which have
156 VOL III. — 37
escaped destruction, the figures relative to the
price of days’ work, as well as of provisions, as
they were at the same times and in the same
places, to recognize that the exchange value of
wheat was at least equal to what it is at present.
Thus, in Normandy, agricultural wages at the
end of the twelfth century, were equivalent to
less than six litres (about 5+ qts.) of wheat. From
that time, we see them rise by degrees to seven;
and only within thirty years have they exceeded
eight. We are forced to conclude, from these
facts, that the real price of wheat, i. e., its ex-
change value, has not increased in that part of
France. — Now, this is what facts attest since it
has been possible to ascertain them. Fifty years
ago the current rates of cereals in France began
to be quoted with all the accuracy desirable.
During this long space of time the population has
not ceased to increase in number and in comfort,
and nevertheless the price of wheat is far from
having risen. Thus, starting at 1800, the five de-
cennial averages succeeded each other in the fol-
lowing order: 19 fr. 87 c., 24 fr. 79 c., 18 fr. 36c.,
19 fr. 4 c., 18 fr. 74 c. The particularly high av-
erage of the years 1810–20 is attributable to the
wars of the empire, the invasion of 1814 and of
1815, and the scarcity of 1816 and 1817: but after
1820, prices fell below the figures previous to
1810 and 1800; and it is a matter well worth atten-
tion that never has rent, in the advanced portions
of France, increased so much as since 1820, when
the sale price of grain diminished or remained
stationary.— In England also, prices, within thirty
years, have not ceased to decline. Inconsiderate
legislation, monetary circumstances, and the ef.
fects of war, had combined to render them exor-
bitant; and, during the ten years from 1810 to
1820, the average per hectolitre rose to a little
more than 38 francs; but from that time they de-
clined, first to 30 francs for the decennial average,
then to 25, and finally, before the reform in the
corn laws, to a little less than 22; that is to say,
below their figure between 1790 and 1800.— Why
is it that the price of wheat has not risen in the
most populous part of Europe to-day in pro-
portion as more land has had to be brought un-
der cultivation, and that we find it as low in
that the least populous? It is because, in past
centuries, art was still in its infancy: for lack of
intelligence and knowledge, as well as for lack of
properly conditioned working material, the labor.
ers could gather their harvests only by the strength
of their arms, and the expenses of labor, compared
with its results, were much greater than they are
to-day. If, in the United States of North Amer-
ica, or in the regions beyond the Oder, the abun.
dance of land has, on the contrary, its effect, it is
because the people derive an advantage from it by
means of implements, methods and processes, of
which communities in former times learned the
use only when they had already begun to press
upon one another in the territory at their disposal.
American agriculturists, aided by implements
which were lacking to the people in the middle
578
RENT.
ages, can turn to profit their natural advantages
of space. Those of the north of Europe are still
too ignorant Or too poor to be able to make as gen-
eral use of these improved implements; but they
nevertheless do use them; and to be convinced of
it, One has but to observe that there exist in Poland,
Hungary, and even Russia, a goodly number of
large Seigniorial estates, under the management of
men educated in the best agricultural schools of
Germany, who carry into the details of the work
the most recent acquisitions of their science and
arts. – Finally, it is wrong to adopt the practice
of considering the price of wheat as giving the
measure of the difference in the expense of agri-
Cultural production in the various countries.
What we should examine is, the general price of
provisions, and not that of particular articles
which do not figure equally everywhere in con-
sumption. Wheat is cheap in the half-untilled
countries of Europe; and yet it is much too dear
for the poor people who harvest it. They subsist
almost wholly on rye; and, while in France rye
does not occupy more than a third as much arable
surface as wheat, and in England not more than a
fourth, in Russia, Poland and Hungary, it takes
from seven- to nine-tenths as much. What is the
result? In these countries, wheat, for which a
small number of particularly fertile lands are re-
served, is not worth, relatively to rye, as much
as in more advanced countries, and the price of
the common means of subsistence there is really
higher than the price of wheat, considered by it-
self, would indicate. On the other hand, it should
be observed, that, by the side of the products the
extension of whose cultivation tends to increase
the price, man continually manures the soil,
which, at less outlay, insures him the complement
of his subsistence. In France, at the time when
the average harvest was 80,100,000 hectolitres of
wheat, 12,260,000 hectolitres of meslin (a mixture
of wheat and rye), or 30,700,000 hectolitres of rye,
there were also gathered 89,580,000 hectolitres of
potatoes, more than 21,000,000 hectolitres of maize,
buckwheat and millet, nearly 10,000,000 hecto-
litres of small grain and dry vegetables, and, be-
sides, an immense quantity of garden products.
Evidently, if the price of wheat had tended to rise,
there would have been found, in the increasing
abundance of other means of subsistence, a Sup-
plement which would have prevented living be-
coming more dear. — These considerations and
these facts authorize us to affirm that there is in
the natural progress of the applications of labor a
power equal or superior to that of the causes
which tend to augment the charges of production.
It is this power which, notwithstanding the neces-
sity of extending the clearing to lands less adapted
to produce, has prevented the price of products
from rising, and which, by continually increasing
the proportion in which the surplus is realized,
has contributed most to the rise in rent. — It is
well to pay serious attention to this point. If
such had not been the present course of things,
everything would be inexplicable in the least con-
testable results of the progressive movement of
the arts and of civilization. It is a fact beyond
doubt, that the more enlightened any population
is, the more they increase in number and comfort,
and the more the means of subsistence at their
disposal become abundant and improve in quality.
No fact is better attested. The day laborers of
England, France, Holland and Switzerland, are
not only better lodged and clothed than they were
in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, or than
those of Russia, Hungary and Poland as yet are,
they are also much better fed. Their bread is
now composed in part of wheat, and not alone of
rye. They eat meat and vegetables; they use less
coarse and more varied food. Now, how could it
be thus, if it were true that the necessity of in-
creasing the area of cultivated land had resulted
in rendering production more and more difficult
and expensive? Under the fatal control of the law
to which Ricardo's school accord an invincible pre-
dominance, we should have seen the remuneration
of the efforts of labor gradually diminish; every
addition to the quantity harvested would have
been obtained only by means of sacrifices com-
paratively greater; the agricultural class would
have increased its ranks as it became necessary to
require more of the land; and the time would have
come when the other classes, restrained by the
obligation to Surrender too large a portion of the
fruit of their industry, in return for their usual
subsistence, would have been arrested in their de-
velopment. Well, quite the contrary of all that
has happened. Starting with the centuries of
ignorance and poverty, those centuries when land
was so plenty that only the best was cultivated, it
has been the manufacturing and commercial classes
which have multiplied the most in proportion, and
which have at the same time amassed the most
capital and wealth. Surely, nothing like it would
have been possible if the continual progress in
agricultural knowledge had not put the laborers
in the rural districts in the way of deriving more
ample resources from the soil, and of supplying
the rest of the community with food without hav-
ing to demand prices continually higher. — One
other erroneous supposition is, that the market
price of provisions must necessarily tend to rise,
in order that the area of cultivation be enlarged.
The entire history of agriculture attests, on the
contrary, that everything in that regard has been
only the fruit of happy discoveries. Thus, it was
the invention of a plow with a broad share which
determined the breaking up of many aluminous
and compact lands previously refractory to the ef-
forts of labor. The employment of lime and marl
in places where they were unknown, has permit-
ted the land to be sown to wheat; and it was the
discovery of the fertilizing properties of animal
charcoal, pulverized bones, and a good number of
other substances belonging to the various kingdoms
of nature, which revealed the possibility of obtain-
ing rich crops from ground reputed too poor to re-
pay the efforts of continued culture. Similarly, it
was the introduction of Sainfoin on chalky lands
RENT.
579
that rendered them productive; and it was an idea
which occurred to a sutler in the Spanish army,
during the long siege of Antwerp, of attempting
to adapt the barren sand of the country to the
cultivation of a few fresh vegetables, by burying
in it the old, cast-off clothing of the soldiers, which
revealed the secret of converting this sand into a
soil which now ripens the best crops of Belgium.
We have one more fine example of the manner in
which discoveries and inventions operate. It is
drainage. Is it the high price of food which led
to its application? Assuredly not; for it came to
take its place among the agricultural agencies and
expenditures in England, at the very time when
proprietors and farmers thought they had before
them only a prospect of a decline. Thus have
things happened, and thus will they continue to
happen.
dowed with a faculty for improving his condition
here. He has arrived armed, so as to be able
gradually to extend the success of his struggles
against nature; and the earth, very far from having
been given to him as ground on which he would
have to expend toil with constantly increasing in.
gratitude, has been given to him as an agent of
production, for the direct assistance of which,
when it should come to grow less, it would be
easy for him to supply its place advantageously
by the acquisition of intelligence destined to add
more and more to the results of the application of
his labor. — Some Opinions originating in Accred-
*ted Theories on the Subject of Rent. The existence
of the rent of the soil, and the rise it has gradu-
ally taken, have given birth to some assertions, of
which we must here say a few words. Adam
Smith, after having shown that rent was a natural
result of the co-operative action of the earth in
agricultural labor, refrained from pushing farther
the analysis of facts, and the examination of their
consequences. Taking the principle as he pre-
Sented it, its result, nevertheless, seemed to be, that
the entire rent proceeded wholly from the pres-
ence in the soil of productive qualities, which
would at all times have operated equally, and cre-
ated from the beginning a wealth which some had
taken possession of, without leaving anything to
the others. This opinion was not long, in fact, in
acquiring some consistency, and several writers,
through embarrassments and ambiguities of lan-
guage, which betrayed the indecision of their
mind, did not fail to conclude that the existence
of rent emanated from an exclusive fact of nature,
and constituted a sort of monopoly, having no
other claim to duration than its utility. The sys-
tem of Dr. Anderson, taken up, commented upon,
and formulated mathematically by Ricardo, came
to add new motives to those which had given cur.
rency to these assertions. In this system, rent,
besides originating in an evil, had the disadvan-
tage of increasing only in consequence of a real
public misfortune. It was the inevitable rise in
the price of provisions which almost alone decided
the progressive increase. The more the necessity
of extending cultivation over lands as yet untilled
Man has been cast upon this world, en-
contributed to change the pre-existing proportion
between the expenditure and the results of pro-
duction, the larger the incomes of the proprietors
became ; and it was, in fact, by the impoverish-
ment of consumers that they had the privilege of
increasing their wealth. Most of the English econ-
Omists received these ideas admiringly, and pro-
mulgated them. To some, rent was a monopoly,
which forced those who did not possess land to
pay those who possessed it more for provisions
than their cost ; to others, it was, to use the ex-
pression of Scrope, a restriction on the usufruct
of the gifts which the Creator has bestowed on
men for the satisfaction of their wants. From
this position to that implied in the celebrated say.
ing, Property is robbery, is but a step ; and this
step was speedily taken. Now, it is for us to bring
within the limits of truth, conclusions that are
either extremely exaggerated or palpably false.
If we had to treat here of the question of the
right of property, it would be easy for us to dem-
onstrate that this right is based no less upon just-
ice than upon social utility, and to prove after-
Ward, that without its application to land, all the
human race, condemned to a pitiless servitude to
hunger, would never, in any part of the globe,
have succeeded in escaping from the miseries of a
Savage life; but, to keep to what especially con-
cerns rent, there are several points which it will
be sufficient to mention. The first is, that those
who first began to cultivate, did not in reality re-
ceive for themselves any other rent than the raw
product which it was possible to obtain from the
little portion of untilled soil they had cleared,
that is to say, a product so small that its with-
drawal from the common domain could injure no
one; the second is, that by obtaining their subsist.
ence by cultivation, they restored to their fellow
human beings infinitely more than they took from
them. A family of savages require not less than
four square kilometres to succeed in obtaining
their support; and those who first devoted them-
selves to agriculture, being incapable of extending
their labor over the one-hundredth part of such a
space, added in reality to the resources of the
community, by leaving it the product of the rest.
The third is, that at the time when agriculture
began, there were so many vacant lands that it
was optional for each to appropriate to his own
use such a part as he chose, and that, if there were
families who refrained from doing so, it was be:
cause they preferred either to live by hunting,
fishing and gathering fruits, or to devote them.
selves to some manufacturing business. Such
were the circumstances which controlled the agri-
cultural régime. Certainly, nothing in what took
place was prejudicial to the rights of any one
whatever; everything, on the contrary, in the an-
cient memorials of human races, attests, that, far
from considering as despoilers those who first
taught them agriculture, they regarded them as
benefactors. — What has caused an illusion in a
matter of this kind, is want of knowledge wherein
rent consisted, at the time when agriculture began.
§80
RENT.
Looking at the income which land secures for
those who possess it, wherever civilization is ad-
vanced, people assume that it has always given
such returns, and forget the labor and sacrifice it
has cost a long succession of generations to make
its income what it is. Certainly, if it were possi.
ble to decompose rent, and to separate its constit-
uent elements in a rich and flourishing country,
one would be surprised at the little the portion
derived from the soil would count for in the
whole ; it would be scarcely perceptible beside
what the capital expended in the interest of pro-
duction, and the savings of labor due to the prog.
ress of agricultural science, have added to it. On
another side, the errors propagated by the school
of Ricardo have not ceased to exercise an unfor-
tunate influence on many minds. Without doubt,
the necessity of having recourse to lands less fer.
tile than those which had been first brought under
cultivation, would have enhanced the price of
food, if the better application of human activity
had not come in to restrain or overcome its effects;
but, as we have shown, such was the course of
things; and, if that necessity acted as an obstacle
to the best which might have been realized, never
was it a cause of diminishing the wealth already
acquired. – Everything, after all, in the part of
the question which occupies us, may be reduced
to a knowledge whether the existence and devel-
opment of rent imposes on the consumers of the
fruits of the earth sacrifices which might be
spared them. Now, this would be true only in
case the rate of rent exercised some influence on
prices; and this case, as we know, can not occur.
Admit, for example, in its whole extent, the the-
ory which shows rent under the most unfavorable
light, viz., the theory of Ricardo. Whither will
you be led? To recognize that rent, arising from
the necessity of extending cultivation to ground
of less fertility, is only an inevitable result of the
enhanced price of products whose attainment be-
comes more and more difficult. In this theory, it
is not because rent arises and increases that prices
rise ; it is, on the contrary, because prices rise,
that rent is created and increases. Society is
obliged, under penalty of dearth, to pay a price
for the necessities of life which secures the pro-
ducers remuneration for the charge imposed upon
them by the cultivation of the worst lands whose
culture is indispensable; and hence arise benefits
to the possessors of the other portions of the soil,
which secure to them a rent so much the larger
as their expenses of production are relatively less.
Admit the doctrine contained in this article, which
is in our opinion much more simple and true,
and you will arrive at conclusions still more de-
cisive. It is the peculiar fitness of the earth for
production, which, by permitting it to return to
those who cultivate it more products than they
need in order to subsist and receive a return for
their advances, which brings about rent. The more
perfect labor becomes, the more is the amount
of the expenses incurred in it, in proportion to
the quantities harvested, reduced, and the more
the excess which is converted into rent increases.
If it is true that the necessity of enlarging the
arable domain tends to increase the price of pro-
duction, this tendency encounters, in the advan-
tages connected with the successive improvements.
due to human ingenuity and skill, a counterbal-
ancing power more than sufficient to restrain it,
and this is why the consumption of provisions.
becomes at the same time extended and improved
in all countries when the people become more
advanced and enlightened. Thus, rent is nothing
else than the product of a gift of nature which
men are permitted to turn to more and more profit,
and whose increase is only an effect of the general
development of prosperity, And this is so true,
that if it had pleased Providence to increase the
fertility of the soil a few degrees more, the price
of provisions would have been less, and of rent,
more. In the beginning it must have required
less labor to obtain subsistence, and, after defray-
ing expenses, there would have remained a sur-
plus, a net product, much greater than that which
is now realized under the name of rent. — The
reader will now see how little foundation there is,
for the charges brought and lamentations made
against the existence of rent. Under whatever
aspect the question is viewed, whatever theory we
adopt, rent appears only as the result of circum-
stances which it is not in the power of man to
change, and not as a portion deducted, to the ex-
clusive advantage of some, from the resources ac-
quired by others. Monopoly is then a very sin-
gularly chosen word when applied to the existence
of rent. To be sure, the earth is limited in extent,
and men can neither increase its surface nor ex-
tend to all its parts labor equally productive; but
does it follow from this that there is anything in
common between the appropriation of land and
the concurrence of circumstances which consti-
tutes a monopoly? All have not a lot of land, it
is true; but have all a share in the possession of
things which, like the earth, owe their sale value
and the possibility of producing a revenue, to the
development of the productive capacity of human
society? Land, unless iniquitous and hurtful
laws immobilize it in the hands of privileged
classes, is transmitted and exchanged like houses,
manufactories, contracts for stated payments, or
stock in any industrial enterprise. Whoever has
savings at his disposal, is free to acquire a greater
or less portion of it, and those who possess it are
so far from deriving exclusive advantages from it,
that some among them may always be found who
are ready to give up what they have, for capital
from which they hope for a better revenue. The
possession of land or of any other sort of wealth, is
so simply a matter of taste or convenience, that
there are times when, even with a like product, it
is not the kind of investment most sought after.
To go to the essence of things, there is nothing in
the assertions we have just examined, which
might not apply to the inequality of fortunes
even; for property in land is only one of the forms
under which exists this inequality, which, born
REPRESENTATION.
581
with Society itself, will assuredly last as long as
Society. H. PASSY.
— Besides the questions treated of in the above
article, there is one which has been mentioned in
the articles COST OF PRODUCTION and DEMAND
AND SUPPLY: it is, whether rent constitutes a part
of the cost of production. We think we can not
do better than to quote the opinion so clearly
stated by Mill. (Principles of Polit. Econ., book
iii., chap. v.): “Tent, therefore, forms no part of
the cost of production which determines the value
of agricultural produce. Circumstances no doubt
may be conceived in which it might do so, and
very largely, too. We can imagine a country so
fully peopled, and with all its cultivable soil so
completely occupied, that to produce any addi-
tional quantity would require more labor than the
produce would feed: and if we suppose this to be
the condition of the whole world, or of a country
debarred from foreign supply, then, if population
continued increasing, both the land and its prod-
uce would really rise to a monopoly or scarcity
price. But this state of things never can have
Teally existed anywhere, unless possibly in some
small island cut off from the rest of the world;
nor is there any danger whatever that it should
exist. It certainly exists in no known region at
present. Monopoly, we have seen, can take effect
on value only through limitation of supply. In
all countries of any extent, there is more cultivable
land than is yet cultivated; and, while there is any
such surplus, it is the same thing, so far as that
quality of land is concerned, as if there were an
infinite quantity. What is practically limited in
supply is only the better qualities; and even for
those, So much rent can not be demanded as would
bring in the competition of the lands not yet in
cultivation; the rent of a piece of land must be
somewhat less than the whole excess of its pro-
ductiveness over that of the best land which it is
not yet profitable to cultivate; that is, must be
about equal to the excess above the worst land
which it is profitable to cultivate. The land or
the capital most unfavorably circumstanced among
those actually employed, pays no rent; and that
'land or capital determines the cost of production
which regulates the value of the whole produce.
Thus, rent is, as we have already seen, no cause
of value, but the price of the privilege which the
inequality of the returns to different portions of
agricultural produce confers on all except the
least favored portion. Rent, in short, merely
equalizes the profits of different farming capitals,
by enabling the landlord to appropriate all extra
gains occasioned by Superiority of natural advan-
tages. If all landlords were unanimously to fore-
go their rent, they would but transfer it to the
farmers, without benefiting the consumer; for the
-existing price of corn would still be an indispen-
Sable condition of the production of part of the
existing supply, and if a part obtained that price
the whole would obtain it. Rent, therefore, un-
Jess artificially increased by restrictive laws, is no
burden on the consumer : it does not raise the
price of corn, and is no otherwise a detriment to
the public, than inasmuch as if the state had re-
tained it, or imposed an equivalent in the shape
of a land tax, it would then have been a fund
applicable to general instead of private advan-
tage.” E. J. L.
REPRESENTATION. In the political sense
of the term, representation is the deputing of
the political rights of the many into the hands of
a few, who, in the name of the commonwealth,
enact and oftentimes execute the laws which are
to govern the community. It has also in practice
grown to be a recognition of localities independent
of population, which are supposed to be a neces-
sary part in law making, so as to make the gov-
erning body a reduced picture of all the varied
interests of society, geographical and personal, the
political rights of which have been recognized. —
The act of voting is not a necessary element of
representation. It is a mere proof that the rep-
resentative is the deputed authority for those
who elect him. Judges who are not elected,
administrators who are not elected, are in many
respects as truly representative in the power they
wield as the members of the legislative body
who are directly deputed by the people. Even in
monarchies the king may represent, and in most
instances does represent, as to his right to reign,
the actual will of the people, although the exist-
ing generation may have had no instrumentality
to express its will on his right to rule. — The
developed modern state everywhere, where civil-
ized conditions exist, acts in a representative ca-
pacity. Only in the case of governments which
are still in an undeveloped condition is the will of
the monarch the Ostensible rule of action. On his
part. In the constitutional state the will of the
monarch, as expressed in the laws and in admin-
istrative decrees, acts in the name of the people,
and he bases his justification of conduct on the
assumption that it is expressive of that will, and
that his kingly office is representative of the whole
people. In that sense the history of representa-
tion is part and parcel of the history and develop-
ment of the idea of the state as contradistinguished
from personal government. Even Louis XIV.,
when he said l’état c'est moč, recognized the fact,
that the state and the person of the king were two
different things, but expressed his conviction that
he represented both in one. — In a narrower
sense, and the sense in which the term is used in
this article, representation is confined to the con-
sideration of that form of the developed modern
state which gives to electors in the community
the right directly to depute persons, in whom they
have confidence and trust, to represent them in a
legislative body, and to give, in advance, their
sanction to the laws they may enact. In this
sense representation is quite a modern idea. The
ancients knew it not. Although Aristotle, in his
“Politics,” speaks of a certain census, who shall
elect a council intrusted with deliberative power,
582
REPRESENTATION. *
who shall be bound to exercise this power agreea-
bly to established laws, he speaks of a hypothetical
state, and not of any which down to his period of
time he had any knowledge of. Freeman says,
in speaking of the Amphictyonic council, the
Achaian league, and the Lycian league, in which
the cities had a certain proportion of votes in
accordance with their size, “that the ancient
world trampled on the very verge of represent-
ative government without actually crossing the
boundary, and that in ancient Greece the assem-
bly which acted upon proposed laws and gave
them their sanction was composed of the freemen
themselves meeting in their personal capacity,
and representation was in the adoption and pas-
Sage of laws unknown.” The votes that were
taken in Rome were, as a general rule, votes for
executive Officers. The tribunes and aediles of the
Roman republic were not law makers, but they
had the power to call assemblies of the people,
who assumed to vote exceptional laws known as
plebiscite. The aediles were judges, and even
comitča curiata were assemblies of people, not
representatives, for the election of magistrates,
and laws were enacted by the senate and by the
centuries who were patricians or noblemen, men
bound to military service, and had nothing of the
representative character in the narrower accepta-
tion of the term. — Montesquieu was right when
he found the germ of modern representative sys-
tems in the forests of Germany. The Teutons,
who became the conquerors of Rome, were the
originators of the thought “no taxation without
representation”; they had their volkmote, where the
wisest among the tribes, by a process of natural
selection, instead of by ballot, sat to determine on
the more important measures which were to govern
the tribe. They had constant popular assemblies,
where the popular will was expressed, and the
spirit of personal freedom was so strong among
them that they elected their eldermen, heretogs
and kings. – The witénagemote of early English
history was not a strictly representative body in
the modern sense. Langmead, in his “History
of the English Constitution,” says that it was an
aristocratic body. Its members were the king,
the ealdormen, or governors of shires, the king's
thegns, the bishops, abbots, and generally the
principes Sapientes of the kingdom. Sapientes
witan, wise men, was the common title of those
who attended it. Its size showed that it was not
a popular assembly, as the largest amount of sig-
natures which have been observed was not above
106. The powers of the witenagemote were as su-
preme and even of wider Scope than those of par-
liament. It had the power of deposing the king
for misgovernment, and English history gives
several instances of the exercise of that power.
It had the power of electing the king. It took a
direct share in every act of government. With
the Norman conquest came a period of obscura-
tion of the power of this early representative
body, if so it may be called, and thenceforth, down
to 1265, no body that might be termed representa-
tive was in existence in England. During the
Contest between John and the barons a parliament
was convoked, wherein sat four knights from each
shire, to be returned by the sheriff. There is no.
evidence that these knights were elected, but as
there was already machinery for election in ex-
istence in the various shires, of knights to nomi-
nate recognitors in civil suits and a grand jury for
the presentment of criminals, we may reasonably
conclude, says Langmead, that the accustomed ma–
chinery was now made use of for the first time for
the novel purpose of county representation in the
general assembly. The next instance, is in 1254,
when two knights of the shire were to be called
to the king's council at Westminster. These were
directed to be chosen by the county. — The next
great step in advance in representative institutions
was made by Simon de Montfort, earl of Leices-
ter, and although he probably was not the founder
of representative government in England, he cer-
tainly was, says the same authority, “the founder
of the house of commons,” because it was the
first parliament which was convoked in England
in which sat the burgher class, which, together
with the freeholders of the counties, constituted
the newly developed third estates of the realm.
The writs were issued Dec. 14, 1264, whereby the
sheriffs were directed to return two knights from
each shire, two citizens from each city, and two
burgesses from each borough. From that period
until 1295, was what may be termed a transitionary
period, parliament being summoned with and,
without burgesses; but in that year, the 23d of
Edward I., the king summoned a parliament to
meet at Westminster in November following, so
constituted as to represent the whole nation.
writs which summoned this parliament were di-
rected, as in 1264, to the sheriff, ordering an elec-
tion and return of two knights from each county,
two citizens from each city, and two burgesses.
from each borough. The inferior clergy were
also required to attend, so as to make this assembly,
whereby the king's necessities for money were to
be relieved, the most general one that had yet
been convoked. — The division of parliament into
two houses was effected early in the fourteenth
century. The commons was composed of two.
elements, the commons of the shires and the bur-
gesses. The knights voted with the barons. Rep-
resentatives of the boroughs formed a distinct as-
sembly, deliberating and voting apart. These were
strictly called the commons. The knights joined
with the commons, and this fusion, says the au-
thority last quoted, was the result of the exist-
ence in the English constitution of a condition.
which distinguished it from every kindred consti-
tution in Europe, the absence of an exclusive noble
caste. — In the continental states the nobles formed
a distinct class, distinguished, by privileges in-
herent in their blood, from Ordinary freemen, and
transmitting their privileges, and in Some countries.
their titles also, to all their descendants in perpe-
tuity. In England, on the contrary, the privileges.
of nobility were confined to one only of the family,
The
REPRESENTATION.
§83
the actual possessor of the peerage. Sons of peers
from the time of the Norman conquest were com-
moners, and on a perfect equality, as regards legal
and political privileges, with the humblest citizen.
Even the heir to the peerage, though he might bear
a title by courtesy, was still, so long as his father
was alive, a commoner like his younger broth-
ers. No restraint was laid upon free intermar-
riage in all ranks, and the highest offices of state
were always legally open to all freemen. “This
made the knight the connecting link between
the baron and the shopkeeper.” The oldest son
even of the earl of Bedford, one of the proudest
titles of nobility in England, offered himself, in
the reign of Henry VIII., for a seat in the house
of commons. The house of commons in that
way became the representative not only of a sin-
gle Order in the state, Šays Langmead, but, with
the exception of the peerage titles, represented
the whole nation, and, as a natural consequence,
has drawn to itself the predominant authority in
the state. — During the reign of Edward III. the
commons established these three great rights:
first, that all taxation without the consent of par-
liament was illegal; second, the necessity for the
concurrence of both houses in legislation ; and
third, the right of the commons to inquire into
and amend abuses of the administration. — The
Tudor sovereigns, arbitrary rulers that they were,
did not feel strong enough to dispense with the
representative body, but they sought to obtain
control over it by creating a large number of in-
significant boroughs for the purpose of increasing
the influence of the crown in the house of Com-
mons. The same authority says, that between
the reigns of Henry VII. and Charles II. no less
than 180 members were added to the house of
Commons by royal charter alone. The last in-
stance of this abuse of prerogative was the crea-
tion of the borough of Newark by Charles II.
Thenceforth the house of commons took the issue
of writs into its own hands, and no new borough
was created in England and Wales until the re-
form act of 1832. – At the date of the union with
Scotland the number of members was 513, this
act of union having added 45 Scottish representa-
tives, and the act of union with Ireland added 100
Irish members. Since that time Scotland has add-
ed to its contingent fifteen members, and Ireland
five. The house of commons has now about 656
members. — To England the world owes the de-
velopment of representative institutions, as it did,
at an earlier period than any other modern gov-
ernment, confer upon its representative body the
sovereign power of the state. The development
of the principle of representation proceeded with
less continuity and upon different lines in other
countries. – A representative system is the only
One by which large communities can enjoy the
advantages of self-government. The ancient sys-
tem of direct participation in law-making was
possible only in a very circumscribed domain.
The moment the domain became larger than
that of a single city, representation necessarily
had to take the place of direct participation, and
the alternative was representation or despotism.
Every fructifying institution of a social character
takes unto itself different forms, in conformity
with the habits and nature of the people. Even
the Christian religion produced very different re-
sults in Spain from that which it produced in
England, and so it is with representative govern-
ment. The habits and genius of the people in
continental Europe produced from representation
a very different result from that which was
achieved in England. The cities of the middle
ages were governed by a form of representation
materially different from the modern manifesta-
tion of the same political development. The no-
bles of the city generally composed its senate,
in imitation of the Roman system, and councils
were chosen in the main by the guilds, of which
in Florence there were twenty-one; but at a later
period only twelve of these possessed govern-
mental powers. What corresponds to the mayor
of the city was in Florence the gonfalonier. So
jealous was Florence of its magistrates that it se-
lected them by lot, and gave them power but for
two months. The citizens met in the great square
and voted directly upon measures. The selfish-
ness of the nobility and the turbulence of the
guilds' train bands, the jealousies of the guilds of
each other, the corrupting influence of the wealth
of the great merchants, all conspired to under-
mine this form of government. The great wars
between the powerful monarchies, which trained
‘their soldiers to feats of arms, of which the mili-
tia of free cities were utterly incapable, gradually
made it impossible for the independent mediaeval
cities to put a force into the field to contend against
the warriors of the great monarchs. Charles W.
and Philip II., and, before them, the rulers of the
Roman empire and the popes, gradually destroyed
the freedom of such Lombardian cities as still had
the vestiges of self-government left. — The con-
stitutions of these municipal states are, however,
interesting studies to the investigator of repre-
sentative government, as they present a form of
representation which has a merit ignored in the
modern representative system, and which, in one
way or another, should be sought to be re-estab-
lished, and that is, the representation of the com-
munity in conformity with its actual natural af-
finities when acting independently of govern-
mental interference. Society classifies itself even
under its most democratic form, and these classes
have to the community and commonwealth differ-
ent values. A complete representation would take
some note of such natural classifications of Soci-
ety, and seek to incorporate them as natural Con-
stituencies for representation. In the Florentine
republic, and, indeed, in all the cities in the Lom-
bardian and Hanseatic league, the representation
of the trade guilds, in proportion to their numer-
ical strength and their importance to the common-
wealth, was conforming the theory of representa-
tion to the natural classification of the commu-
nity, and therefore, in that particular, representa-
584
REPRESENTATION.
tion was more thorough in those cities than it is
in the modern state. Creating artificial entities
by drawing geographical lines around them, and
giving to a majority in such entities the sole right
of representation, is utterly to disregard these
natural affinities of a community, and to base
representation upon geographical lines instead of
the interests of the community, and makes a rep-
resentative body so constituted far from being
what Mirabeau says it should be, a reduced photo-
graph of the whole community. —In Switzerland
and in France representation took unto itself
again a different form. From the time of the
overthrow of the Roman empire the mountain can-
tons of Switzerland maintained forms of self-gov-
ernment, and without the intervention of chiefs,
these mountaineers assembled in the open air,
voted their own laws, and elected their own mag-
istrates to execute them. The larger towns of
Switzerland, being favored more especially by
Count Rudolph of Hapsburg, were made muni-
cipalities early in the thirteenth century. On his
death, the apprehension that his successors might
attempt to impair the liberty of the cantons and
the self-government of the towns, caused an alli-
ance to be entered into by them for the freedom
of Switzerland. The Swiss confederation was
formed in 1351, and from that time the Swiss un-
interruptedly maintained a republic, with a con-
siderably developed system of representation. In
the rural and mountain cantons there was but little
representation. The town meeting was assembled
whenever occasion required.
above sixteen years of age was permitted to vote,
and they acted directly upon the laws which were
to govern them. The federal constitution of the
Swiss government down to 1848 was that of a con-
federation but loosely banded together. The
Sonderbund revolution, which sought to dismem-
ber the Swiss confederation in the interest of the
Jesuits, was the means to strengthen it, and it
caused the adoption of a new constitution wherein
the Supreme legislative power was intrusted to a
federal assembly consisting of two deliberative
bodies, the national council and the council of
state, the one representing the entire Swiss nation,
and the other the sovereign bodies of the Swiss
cantons. No federal law could be made without
the concurrence of both of these chambers. These
bodies nominate the federal authorities; they de-
clare peace and war; they regulate the postoffice
and the coinage. The executive power was con-
fided to a federal council of several members
elected by the assembly, its president being the
president of the confederation. Every man aged
twenty not expressly deprived of the rights of a
voter by the laws of his own canton, was entitled
to vote, and was himself eligible to the national
council. (May’s “Democracy in Europe,” vol. ii.,
p. 410.) The Swiss do not fully confide matters
of legislation to their representatives, but, by the
instrumentality of the referendum, reserve a veto
power in the following form. Whenever 30,000
qualified voters demand it, any law passed by
Every inhabitant
the Swiss congress must be submitted for ratifica-
tion or rejection to the people, and many instances
have occurred in the recent history of that republic
where the people rejected laws which the legis-
lature had adopted. In the several cantons the
Teferendum has also been made part of the organic
law, so that upon all the more important meas-
ures affecting the cantons the people have repeat-
edly vetoed the measures enacted by the repre-
sentative bodies of the cantons. This system of
referendum has its inconveniences, but so long as
representation is limited to majorities only, and
those of arbitrary geographical divisions, which
makes of modern representative bodies an artificial
and unnatural representative body, the referendum
is perhaps the only corrective of so faulty a method
of representation. — In France the estates of the
realm of the middle ages were councils of barons
and prelates. In 1302 Philip the Fair summoned
the third estate, who were delegates from the
towns, to meet the nobles and prelates of Notre
Dame. This was the first convention of the
states general. They were afterward assembled
irregularly in times of national difficulty and dan-
ger, or when the necessities of the kings drove them
to demand extraordinary subsidies. (May, vol. i.,
p. 95.) Again, in 1484 the states general were
convoked so as to insure a national representation,
and embraced delegates from the country as well
as from the towns. These deliberations were con-
ducted, not by orders, but in six bureaus, which
comprised the representatives of all the orders
according to their territorial divisions. (May, vol.
i., p. 96.) The municipalities of France could
not long survive the centralizing spirit of the
French monarchy. So little of the spirit of self-
government existed in France that when, in 1692,
Louis XIV. abolished all municipal elections and
sold the right of governing towns to the rich citi-
zens, there was scarcely a murmur heard. The
states general, although from time to time con-
voked, never had and never asserted any rights as
against the crown. They laid their complaints at
the foot of the throne, which were treated as the
throne saw fit, to be spurned, or to be enacted into
law. The states general had no rights which they
could maintain against the crown. The French
parliaments were not representative bodies. They
were nominated by the crown, and were really
high courts of justice. For several hundred
years representative government was unknown in
France; when, by the reforms under Turgot, at
the time of Louis XVI., the provincial assemblies
were once more revived, and local self-government
was again endowed with life and vigor. At the
suggestion of the parliament of Paris the states
general were again convoked, which was the be-
ginning of the French revolution, and led to the
national assembly; the national assembly led to
the convention, which was elected by universal
suffrage; the convention led to a directory; and
the directory again to an empire. —The theory of
representation became, however, formally estab-
lished from the period of the French revolution in
REPRESENTATION.
585
the constitutions of France, and, under one form of
government or another, representative bodies were
thenceforth permanent institutions of the nation.
Under the first empire the citizens of each arron-
dissement designated a tenth of them as electors.
These were the communal notabilities. From this
list the public functionaries of the arrondissement
Were chosen. These, in turn, selected a tenth of
their number for the purpose of furnishing the
functionaries of the departments. These new
tenths selected on their part again a tenth, which
formed a list of the national notabilities, from
which the public functionaries for the nation were
taken. The presidents of all electoral colleges, all
grand officers, commanders, and officers of the
legion of honor, and all heads of departments, the
emperor Selected without reference to an election.
—Under the restoration a chamber of deputies of
430 members was constituted, of which 258 were
£lected by the colleges of arrondissement, and 172
by the colleges of departments. A census of a very
high order limited the voting power to a small pro-
portion of the French people. This was all swept
away by the July (1830) government. The electoral
system under the republic of 1848 suppressed all
property qualification, and every Frenchman twen-
ty-one years of age, subject only to the condition
of a residence of six months, was invested with the
right of voting. The vote was taken by ballot.
Subsequently, modifications were made in this uni-
versal suffrage by raising the time of residence to
three years, and imposing again a property quali-
fication. It was the combination between Presi-
dent Napoleon and the class of citizens who
were disfranchised by the act of the republic,
which made Napoleon at first dictator and then
placed him upon the throne of France as Napo-
leon III. — In The Netherlands, ever since 1815,
the laws have been enacted by representative
bodies, who are elected by the inhabitants above
twenty-three years of age, and , who pay some
Small direct tax. — In Germany, Austria, Italy,
Spain and Portugal the representative bodies were
Amainly representative of special interests, such as
nobles, clergy, towns, etc., and were not true
representatives until a very recent period, when,
by the amended constitutions of those countries,
Some approximation was made to representation
upon the English and American model. – Rep-
resentative institutions are everywhere gaining
ground. England has been the pattern, and
America the most prominent example, of the suc-
cessful operation of representative government.
The Organization of the people for purposes of
representation, adopted by these two nations,
forms the model on which reforms in representa-
tion in other countries are gradually introduced.
Government by representatives is much more than
a makeshift, adopted, in consequence of the ex-
tent of modern communities, to secure power to
the people and yet not take their direct votes on
the laws which are to govern them, inasmuch as
this method is obviously impracticable where the
community is larger than that of a single town.—
It has been observed by Lieber, that representation
for the state at large constitutes one of the essen-
tial differences between the deputative mediaeval
estates and the modern representation by legisla-
tures. The representative is not substituted for
something which would be better were it practi-
cable, but has its own substantive value. It is a
bar against absolutism of the executive on the one
hand, and of the domination of the demos on the
other. It is the only contrivance by which it is
possible to introduce at the same time an essen-
tially popular government and the Supremacy of
the law, or the union of liberty and Order. It is
an invaluable high school to teach the handling
of the instruments of free institutions. It is the
one most efficacious preventive of the growth of
centralization and bureaucratic government, with-
Out which no clear division of the functions of
government can exist. Many examples may be
cited from Grecian history to show how little the
sense of responsibility was connected with the di-
rect voting, and how easily the general populace
could be misled by the demagogues, and at the
assembly at the agora be cheated or cajoled out of
their votes in favor of measures which they re-
gretted almost as soon as enacted. The repre-
sentative system checks and prevents such hasty
action, and is, therefore, an institution which in
itself secures good government. The representa-
tion makes the fact of government being a trust
a vital and realizable truth. It is, however, of
vital importance that a representative organization
of the community be properly made, and that the
representative body should be truly the best ex-
ponent of the popular will, because otherwise the
majority of the people would not possess the reins
of government, and the administration would fall
into the hands of cabals, juntas or political Organ-
izations, which misrepresent it. — The American
model of representation is twofold. I. National.
The president of the United States under the
American system is elected by a supposed electoral
college, constituted in a manner to be designated
by the legislatures of the various states. It meets
in the several states, and is composed of the same
number that the state has representatives in Con.
gress, who determine in these several states upon
their choice for president of the United States.
These electoral colleges have in time become mere
registering machines of party will, and are not
deliberative bodies in any sense. Immediately
after the electoral colleges are constituted at the
general election with reference to which they are
to perform their function, the election is practi.
cally determined in advance of their meeting.
There is but a single instance in the history of the
United States of an elector refusing to Cast his
vote in conformity with the party dictate which
elected him. — The senators of the United States
are elected by the legislatures of the states.
Members of congress of the United States are
elected by the voters in contiguous representative
districts artificially created, one from each district,
each district containing, as nearly as possible,
586
REPRESENTATION.
about 131,000 inhabitants. The apportionment of
these districts is left to the legislature of the State,
to be fixed after each decennial census. The state
representative bodies are generally a Senate and
an assembly or house of representatives. The
senate, the smaller body, is elected by larger dis-
tricts, also geographically contiguous, and the
house of representatives by smaller districts. In
different states different provisions exist, making
the term of service of senators a longer period
than that of the members of the lower house.
With the exception of Illinois, which has adopted
the plan of the three-cornered constituencies, elect-
ing three members from each district—as a rule,
but one member is elected from each district—the
majority or plurality, as the case may be, of the
district elects a member. Local representative
bodies, like town or city councils, are elected by
smaller districts, composed of contiguous territory
equal in population, one from each district; and
the majority or plurality, as the case may be, in
the district elects such representative. Where ex-
ecutive Officers are to be elected, whether munici-
pal or state, they are elected by the whole city
or by the whole state, and the majority of the
voters, or a plurality, if there be more than two
candidates, secures the election of its candidate.
The French system of double election has never
taken root either in England or America, and
seems to be but ill adapted to the genius of our
people. The only instance attempted is the one
of the electoral college, which has proved abortive,
and has become a mere simulacrum. — The quali-
fications for a voter in the United States are, as a
general rule, that he must be twenty-one years of
age; if not born in this country he must have re-
sided therein five years, within the state one year,
and within the district about thirty days. Such
as have come to this country during minority are
admitted to the suffrage in a shorter period. The
few qualifications that survive from colonial times,
either of education or of property, have been and
are being to a considerable extent gradually swept
away. This, in theory, places the elective fran-
chise in the United States, for all officers whose
actions affect the commonwealth either as law-
makers or executors of the law, into the hands of
all the male population above twenty-one years of
age. Universal manhood suffrage has been the
rule in this country.--Even the selection of judges
(who, in the history of the United States, were,
down to 1846, as a general rule, appointed by the
governor of the state, in order to secure more in-
telligent officers and more direct responsibility in
such selection) has, by the growth of the demo-
cratic spirit, been taken out of the hands of the
governor, and their elevation to the bench, except
United States judges, given to the people, and
their terms of service shortened from life tenure
to a few years. Elective officers have been un-
duly multiplied, to such a degree that it be-
comes almost impossible for the voter busily oc-
cupied with the demands upon him of his busi-
mess, to determine intelligently upon the merits
of the numerous candidates presented for differ-
ent offices by political organizations. This highly
artificial system of arbitrary districts for purposes
of political activity which wholly disregard the
natural affiliations of the people arising from their
vocations, their political convictions or their status
in society, has resulted in giving to the political
organization an abnormally strong power in deter-
mining the personnel of the government of the
United States. – In a very intelligent arraignment
of existing political conditions in the United States,
written by Mr. Charles C. P. Clark, in a work en-
titled “The Commonwealth Reconstructed,” the
author says that the plan of direct popular elec-
tion in large constituencies results in three frauds:
first, that the elector knows whom he is voting for;
Second, that he comprehends what he is voting
about; and third, that his vote will have its proper
weight without preliminary consultation and ar-
rangement with other voters; each of which as-
sumptions, he says, in the vast majority of cases
is absolutely false. The present actual fact is, that
at the dictate of leaders whom we have not chosen,
we vote for candidates whom we do not know, to
discharge duties that we do not understand. And
as the law pays no heed to natural political organ-
ization, and gives it no direct encouragement nor
recognition, the consequence has been that the
political organization has taken possession of the
machinery of legislation and is substantially the
only thing that is represented. Unless he is the
member of a caucus, has a seat in the convention,
or takes an active part in the nominating com-
mittee, the individual voter is a cipher in politics,
and the only function he has to perform is to regis-
ter his aye or may as to the individuals who have
been put forward by the political organizations.
—When this system was originally constituted,
in a community of farmers, both the caucus and
the conventions were voluntary forms of gather-
ing the public will to make an intelligent choice
of candidates. They were unrecognized, informal
meetings of citizens to discuss public affairs and
to select their neighbors for public office. In the
early history of the United States public office
was a burden which men accepted in consequence
of the honor and dignity of the station, for which
honor and dignity they were willing to sacrifice
the more material advantages of private life. The
division of employments, the growth of wealth,
the great tide of emigration and consequent exist-
ence of a proletariat class, and the diversified in-
terests and intensity of occupation which have
been evoked by the modern industrial system,
have made of the homogeneous community of a
century ago one of the most diversified peoples in
industrial employment and Occupation, as well as
disparity of means, that exist on the face of the
earth. By the testimony of every close observer,
it is a community of which the more intelligent
elements are more intently occupied and have less
hours of leisure than that which exists anywhere
on the face of the earth. The consequence is,
that the men who are most deeply interested in
REPRESENTATION.
§87.
the welfare of society no longer have time to meet
and discuss the political situation with their neigh-
bors, and to talk over and determine which of their
neighbors they desire to select for public office.
The division of employments has created a poli-
tician class to attend to that business for them, as
it has a class of lawyers and divines to expound
the law and look after the spiritual welfare of the
Community. The caucus and the convention,
therefore, have, from being the mere aids to polit-
ical organization, grown in time to be the organi-
Zation itself.-The law which secures the political
rights of the citizens is still the same that it was
in the early history of the United States; indeed
it has become more liberal in admitting a larger
circle of human beings within the domain of
political enfranchisement than in the early history
of the United States. The power, however, has
become so centralized in political organizations
that a development has taken place in that func-
tion similar to that which has taken place in the
railway interests by amalgamations and consolida-
tions, so that, notwithstanding the rapid increase
of population in the United States, fewer and few-
er men, in both political organizations, determine
who shall be elected by the people, precisely as, in
railway transportation, fewer and fewer men de-
termine, notwithstanding increased mileage, what
rates shall prevail. The amount of time which
must be given, and the money it requires success-
fully to establish a political machine, are both so
great that, in the absence of a large leisure élass in
the United States which is emancipated from the
necessity of daily toil by theinheritance of ancestral
wealth, it has become practically impossible for the
industrial and commercial classes in the communi-
ty to give that time or money. In municipalities and
in states the owners of property therein feel that
there is a constant increase of the ratio of taxation
without an equivalent in better service performed
by the government for the individual in return for
such taxation. The increase of municipal taxes has
been within a generation upward of 200 per cent.,
and yet the tax payer prefers to submit to the
exactions of the tax gatherer rather than to impose
upon himself the greater immediate tax, which
would be involved in the devotion of the neces-
sary time and money to emancipate himself from
the control of the political organization which he
knows to be tyrannous and feels to be mischievous.
Political patronage is the reward in the business
of creating a political machine, and the politician
finds in the control of the public office a return
for the labor and money investment which he is
compelled to make in establishing and perfecting
his machine. As this system of political Organi-
zation has grown, within the past thirty years, to
gigantic proportions, it becomes a serious question
whether the representative institutions of this
country do not contain in themselves a fatal defect
by reason of their not being adapted to the present
organization of society in the United States. In-
dependent political action is still possible where
conditions prevail such as they did prevail in the
early history of the United States, in such cen-
tres of population as may be termed strictly agri-
cultural communities. In great cities, however,
where the division of employment has been car-
ried to its extreme development, representative
institutions have become mere shams. The gov-
ernments of those cities are in the hands of offi-
cers selected from the various political organiza-
tions which for the time being obtain control.
The political organizations form a very small
minority of the whole people, but the members.
thereof have devoted themselves to the building
up of a political organization as a matter of busi-
mess, as others of their fellow - citizens devote.
themselves to the business of banking, to manu-
facturing boots or shoes or hats. This situation
becomes aggravated with increased population,
and its mischief increased by the large criminal
and pauper classes which exist in every densely
populated centre. They are the camp followers of
political Organizations, precisely as they would
have been the camp followers of a mediaeval army
for purposes of plunder only, and assume the name
of the political Organization, not because of any
belief in principles, but because of their conviction
that that particular organization will take care of
them in the distribution of office. — As the United
States look forward with much confidence to the
early attaining of a population of a hundred
million of souls, it will readily be seen that some
change must be made adapting representative gov-
ernment to the needs of a community wherein the
division of employment will be still further de-
veloped with every increase of population, and
wherein life is not likely, within any short period
of time, to be less onerous and exacting in its de-
mands upon the whole attention of the person
who devotes himself to a particular vocation. It
must be quite clear, therefore, that evils which
have already made themselves apparent, arising
from the inadaptiveness of the existing political
organizations to the natural development of the
community, must become intensified and intoler-
able if the cause which has produced them not
only continues but is increased in activity, so that
there must come a greater and wider divergence
between the people who supply the taxes and
those who have control of the governmental ma-
chinery to expend the taxes. These evils have
been recognized by every thoughtful writer upon
the more recent manifestations of American insti-
tutions. They have by some been regarded as an
evil attending the influx of emigration; by such it
is claimed that the community has taken in more
of the foreign element than it can comfortably
absorb, and that, therefore, there is a large voting
constituency in every community in the United
States not thoroughly trained on the American
model as to the rights and duties of citizenship,
and who are, therefore, a hindrance to good gov-
ernment. Others have supposed the evil to result
from excluding one-half of the population—
women—from the exercise of political suffrage,
and have supposed that the cure of malrepresent-
58S
REPRESENTATION.
ation will lie in the direction of the adoption of
Woman Suffrage. Others have recommended a
return to Smaller constituencies resembling some-
What the old Saxon hundred, as units of political
power, so as to give an instrumentality for inter-
change of opinion in artificial entities sufficiently
Small to allow of meeting and deliberation. Others,
at the head of whom stands Mr. Clark, have pro-
posed the remedy of primary representative elec-
toral colleges for the purpose of selecting electors
simply, who, in their turn, shall elect other elec-
tors, so as to produce a condition of graded repre-
Sentation, Or, in other words, double or treble
elections. Again, others have sought refuge from
the existing evils by recommending limitation of
the Suffrage upon a property basis. Another class of
thinkers have advocated the rigorous adoption of
a high qualification for voters, of intelligence and
even of actual learning. Another class of reform-
ers have sought a refuge from existing evils by ad-
VOCating the extension of the term of residence in
the community as a condition of citizenship, so as
to exclude the emigrant from all participation in
the political affairs of the nation until he shall
have been substantially a lifetime on American
Soil. This idea captured, a generation ago, a suf-
ficient number of adherents to create a formidable
party, which obtained a phenomenal success in
Several states. Another class of reformers have
recommended the legalizing and methodizing by
law of primary meetings, so as to give a legal
status and recognition to the caucus and primary
nominations, and thus to make frauds practiced
in these bodies amenable to legal redress and sub-
ject to legal punishment. Others, and notably
Robert von Mohl, have recommended the re-estab-
lishment, in modern form, of the representation of
the guild, by giving to each organization of the
community, be it a trade, profession or voluntary
asSociation of political opinion, and also to all
large classes, such as agriculturists, manufacturers,
merchants and the professions, special delegates to
represent their special interests, and general dele-
gates to be elected at large or appointed by the
crown, such special delegates to be chosen by
them, in certain proportions corresponding to the
importance of such interests to the commonwealth.
Lastly, there is a class of publicists and political
economists who have suggested minority or total-
ity representation as the means best adapted to
redress the evils of the existing political conditions
in relation to representative government. Thus
they would, indirectly but naturally, introduce
into the modern state something analogous to the
guild or trade representation which existed in the
mediaeval communities, by recognizing as units of
representation voluntary constituencies framed to
represent electoral quotas. These units are to be
substituted for existing arbitrary geographical di-
visions, and, by enfranchising the minority and giv-
ing each man his due proportion of political pow-
er in representation, reconstitute political organi-
zations, acting as a solvent of existing machines, so
that there shall no longer be majorities and minor-
vote has been more strongly felt.
ities, but an entire reformation of political entities
for purposes of representation. — We shall now
pass in review these several methods of reform of
an undoubted existing evil, to see which will an-
swer best the purpose to meet the exigencies of a
modern democratic community. — The objection
to the foreign vote is one that increases in inten-
sity as we descend in the scale of the dignity of the
legislative or representative body, from the na-
tional to the municipal organization. The federal
legislature has no distinctive foreign element in
it, and the opinions of congress have been so little
tinged with the emigration influences, that, with
the exception of a few demagogues who desire to
curry favor with the Fenian element, by inveighing
against the English government, there is no danger,
which requires the enforcement of reformatory
measures, of bad national legislation arising from
the ignorance or prejudices of the naturalized
voter. In state governments the foreign element
makes itself more strongly felt. On questions
affecting temperance legislation and excise laws,
in matters relating to taxation and in labor legis-
lation, the German and the Irish voters have ex-
ercised influences which may be deemed by some
pernicious. On the relation of labor to capital,
the employment of convicts in competition with
the trades, in the regulation of the hours of labor,
and in the authority given to municipalities to con-
tract for labor, ideas have been transplanted from
the trades-unionism of other countries upon our
statute books directly traceable to foreign ideas.
In municipal administration the evil of the foreign
It so happens
that the foreign elements of large cities also com-
prise a very large proportion of the poorest in-
habitants of the cities, and there is, therefore, not
an unnatural association of ideas in coupling the
foreign element with the lowest class of voters.
As a city administration deals almost wholly with
property interests, the application of universal
suffrage to administrations of that character has
resulted in throwing the power to levy taxes into
the hands of the men who are the largest consum-
ers of taxes and the smallest direct contributors to
the city treasury. Consequently, the objection to
what is called the foreign vote has been strongest
felt and most strongly expressed in municipalities
wherein it is coupled with the vote of the poor,
who have so managed that in less than a genera-
tion the city debts of the United States have been
trebled and their taxes doubled. — The advocacy
of female suffrage as a remedy for the evils of
representation, arises from an entire misconcep-
tion of the nature and character of the Suffrage
and of representation. It is treated by these ad-
vocates as an inborn right instead of a trust. They
regard the refusal to allow an individual to vote,
as a deprivation of something which is in the na-
ture of his property, and the denial of representa-
tion, therefore, as an injustice. All institutions of
government are practical establishments for the
purpose of securing the well-being of Society. To
secure the well-being of Society, it is necessary that
REPRESENTATION.
589
the most intelligent and best instructed members
of it should, in so far as regulation is necessary,
regulate those affairs. If universal, including fe-
male, suffrage secures that end, then it is whole-
some. If it fails to secure that end, it is mischiev-
ous. The difficulty with universal suffrage and
majority representation is, that it enables the least
instructed, who are the most numerous, to swamp
and silence the better instructed, who are in every
community the fewest. Doubling the number of
voters by adding voters of precisely the same class,
individual for individual, can not, by any possibil-
ity, remove that difficulty, but inevitably will have
the tendency to strengthen it. Assuming, what
is open to debate, that women are intellectually as
strong as men, and assuming also, contrary to the
fact, that they have as large an experience as men
have in affairs with which legislation has to deal,
the adding of all the women of the United States
to the poll lists, is simply adding to the enormous
numerical preponderance of the lower-class vote,
intellectually considered, over the better-class vote,
intellectually considered. The laborer's wife, shar-
ing the laborer's household and the laborer's inter-
ests, will inevitably share his prejudices and his in-
fluences. She is also sure to be driven to the polls,
or will voluntarily go there, under the pressure of
some supposed personal benefit to be derived
from the exercise of the vote, particularly in cities
where large expenditures directly interest so large
a proportion of the working classes. As a matter
of fact for many years to come, were female suf-
frage introduced, the most refined women would,
for stronger reasons than those which influence the
men of the household and cause them to abstain
from going to the polls, also induce the women to
refrain from going to the polls, and compulsion
would not be exercised upon them to overcome
their disinclination. Therefore, as to this class of
voters, the proportion of the lower-class votes
would be even larger than it is among the men ;
and in a community which simply counts votes
without weighing them, all the evils that arise
from an absence of discrimination as to who casts
the votes, will be very naturally intensified by the
adoption of the suggestions of the female suffrag-
ists. – The reform which seeks to make the nomi-
nating convention and the caucus amenable to the
restraining influence of the criminal law, is one
which is wholesome and necessary, so far as it
goes. It is only not sufficiently far reaching suc-
cessfully to cope with the deeper-seated ills of the
body politic. It is not only the exclusive devotion
to the business of politics which gives to the poli-
tician his great advantage over the average citizen,
but also that he is willing to resort to trick, device
and fraud for the purpose of perpetuating his
power. Primary meetings, therefore, where each
citizen is supposed to enact the initiative steps for
the calling of a convention, and the appointing of
representatives to a convention which shall express
the party will, both as to platforms and as to indi-
viduals for office, have become mere hotbeds of
fraud and intimidation. It is a melancholy truth,
which is attested by the history of party organ-
izations in every densely crowded centre of the
United States, that the primaries are called simply
to register foregone conclusions, and to delegate
as the so-called representatives of certain districts,
men who have been previously agreed upon by a
junta of politicians. These politicians call the pri-
maries and appoint inspectors of elections, and
the few people who are not deterred from attend-
ance by the disreputable character of the place
where the primary is held, or by the character of
those who are expected to do the work of the pri-
mary, may vote as they see fit ; the counting is
done by inspectors previously appointed, who will
inevitably return the names that were given them
to be returned, whether such names receive a ma-
jority or minority of the votes. To protect, there-
fore, these actions of citizens, or the Supposed ac-
tions of citizens, exercising their capacity as free-
men, to set in motion the necessary machinery to
secure the selection of candidates, is a duty which
is imposed upon the law, and which has been hith-
erto neglected by the ignoring of these meetings
as necessary elements of constitutional govern-
ment. If it is necessary to protect a citizen from
having his name forged to a piece of paper jeop-
arding a hundred dollars of his property, it is as
clearly the duty of the law maker to prevent falsi-
fication or forgery of his will in the expression of
political opinion or preference when he has been
invited to attend a meeting, and his opinion or
preference is likely to produce tangible practical
results. Already in the state of New York a law,
with limited application, has been made to protect
primaries in certain localities, in the same manner
as the voter's preferences are protected at the polls,
and this principle is likely to prevail until there is
spread upon the statute books of all the states of
the Union, and of the nation, laws protecting the
citizen’s exercise of rights in that regard. — The
ideas of Robert von Mohl, on re-establishing, in
modern democratic Society, the forms of repre-
sentation which prevailed in the middle ages, in
which interests and not persons were represented,
are worthy of more regard and attention than has
been given to them. The English parliament has
grown up in so incongruous a fashion, that, down
to a very recent period, when the rotten boroughs
were disfranchised and some towns given a fair
representation, Chief Justice Story's description
was literally and exactly true. He says: “It might
be urged that it is far from being secure, upon
reason of experience, that uniformity in the com-
position of a representative body is either desira-
ble or expedient, founded in sounder policy, or
more promotive of the general good, than a mixed
system embracing and representing and combining
distinct interests, classes and opinions. In Eng-
land the house of commons is a representative
body founded upon no uniform principle either
of numbers or classes or places. The representa-
tion is made up of persons chosen by electors
having very different and sometimes very discord-
ant qualifications. In some cases property is ex-
590
REPRESENTATION.
clusively represented; in others, particular trades
and pursuits; in others, inhabitancy and corpo-
rate privileges; in others, the reverse.” (The uni-
versities have representatives.) “In some cases
the representatives are chosen by very numerous
voters; in others, by very few. In some cases a
single patron possesses the single power of choos-
ing representatives, as in nomination boroughs;
in others, very populous cities have no right to
choose, and have no representatives at all. In
some cases a select body forming but a very small
part of the inhabitants has the exclusive right of
choice ; in others, non-residents can control the
whole election. In some places half a million of
inhabitants possess the right to choose no more rep-
resentatives than are assigned to the most insignifi-
cant borough with scarcely an inhabitant to point
out its local limits. Yet this inequality has never,
of itself, been deemed an exclusive evil in Great
Britain. And in every system of reform which
has found public favor in that country, many of
these diversities have been embodied from choice,
as important checks upon undue legislation, as fa-
cilitating the representation of different interests
and different opinions, and as thus securing, by a
well-balanced and intelligent representation of all
the various classes of society, a permanent protec-
tion of the public liberties of the people, and a
firm security of the private rights of persons and
of property.” (Story on the Constitution, sec.
585.) Now, what is done in this prescriptive and
crude fashion by the gradual growth of the Eng-
lish constitution, and which is embodied in the
house of commons, which not merely represents
geographical districts, but represents all the vari-
ous interests of society in Great Britain, Robert
von Mohl proposes to do in a community in a sys-
tematic and logical form. Taking the classifica-
tions of society as they exist, as landowners, as
agriculturists, as merchants, shippers and manu-
facturers, he would give to each class, represen-
tation in proportion, first, to their numerical
strength, and secondly, to their importance to the
state. To the religious organizations, to the po-
litical organizations, he would assign representa-
tion. To the association or organization of the
manufacturer, as well as to the trades union of
his employés, representation would be given ac-
cording to his plan in certain qualitative propor-
tions. He would have these organizations, like
the guilds of the middle ages, depute their dele-
gates to a central body. Speaking, as he does, in
a community in which the crown was to his mind
an integral part of the state, he would give to the
crown the appointment of general delegates in a
certain proportion to represent the commonwealth.
Eliminating this royal intervention from his plan,
as not a necessary part of it, general delegates
might be elected by general ticket on the part of
the whole community to sit with these delegates
of the special trades combinations and industries
of the community. Indeed, he himself is in
doubt whether general delegates are at all neces-
Sary, because, he says, all these special delegates
have an interest in the general public weal, but
are to be considered as more truly representative,
than geographical divisions constitute them, of
the actual living interests of the whole commu-
nity. He draws attention to the fact that when-
ever a trade or special organization places at its
head its representative man by an election for pres-
ident or director, it is generally the strongest man
among them; and that in no community in which
geographical subdivisions and majority votes are
taken, is such a result brought about. He, there-
fore, would have these special interests recognized
by law. When these deputed spokesmen are gath-
ered together into a general assembly, in due pro-
portions, they would together represent all the in-
terests as they exist outside of the representative
chamber, and thereby be, in point of fact, a re-
duced photograph of the whole community. The
professions would be represented by their ablest
men; the trades by their ablest men; and upon
every question affecting any special interests, the
highest technical skill would, within the repre-
sentative body, be instantly available for infor-
mation as to how proposed legislation will affect
. Such interests. – Those who have recommended
reverting to the smaller constituencies, like the old
Saxon hundred, so as to give opportunity for de-
liberation, and to place this deliberative commu-
nity of a hundred under the protection of the
law, so that its will as expressed in conventions
or meetings shall not be fraudulently falsified, are
working in the same direction with those who
seek to legalize the nominating conventions. The
adherents of this plan are yet too feeble in num-
bers, and their scheme is too remote from the
practical habits of the people, to be thought of
as a scheme likely to prove acceptable, and hence
it can be dismissed for the present from this dis-
cussion. — The double-election scheme has very
much to commend it. Of this view Mr. Clark,
whose work has already been cited, is the ablest
exponent. He says, that the difficulty is, first,
the actual and necessary ignorance of the great
majority of voters, both as to whom they are vot-
ing for and what they are voting about; second,
their utter inability to unite of and among them-
selves upon representative candidates for office ;
and third, political organizations, which started to
help the people in this embarrassment, have, by the
logic of the situation, become their corrupt and
corrupting masters. To remedy this, he proposes
that in every town ward or other civil division
that exceeds two thousand in population, the reg-
istered votes be divided by lot into five, nine, or
any other number, of equal sections or Squads;
that they shall be drawn as jurors are drawn, and
that each of these lists or squads shall constitute
a primary electoral constituency; that the respect-
ive squads shall vote for a representation of elect-
ors for their own constituency; that these repre-
sentative electors shall appoint the ward officers;
that these electoral colleges of the ward shall
again designate one or more electors to represent
them and the people for whom they act in a higher
REPRESENTATION.
591
rank of colleges for the appointment of mayors,
county officers, members of the state legislature
and the house of representatives. He thus calls
out the voter; he compels the performance of the
duty of voting on pain of disfranchisement, and
compels the performance of services as elector
by heavy penalties. The experience of France
is strongly in favor of double voting. Mr. Taine,
in his book “On the Suffrage,” has expressed his
preference for this form of election over that of
any other, and supports it with cogent philosoph-
rical and logical reasoning. The failure of the
electoral college is in itself no cogent reason
against double elections, because it can easily be
shown that it was so defectively organized as to
take from it at the outset all character as a delib-
erative body. — Those who favor a property qual-
ification are mainly reformers of municipal or-
ganizations. The few qualifications in the way
of ownership of property which existed under the
constitutions of the various states of the Union
as conditions for the vote for state officers, have
gradually been swept away, and the question
seems to be on subjects relating to state and na-
tional administration no longer open to debate.
With reference to municipal administration, how-
ever, a different question is presented. Upon
that point even Mr. Mill, than whom no stronger
advocate for the extension of the suffrage and for
the liberty of the people existed, says, on page
176 of his “Considerations on Representative
Government,” that, “it is important that the as-
isembly which votes the taxes, either general or
local, should be elected exclusively by those who
pay something toward the tax imposed. Those
who pay no taxes, disposing by their votes of
other people's money, have every motive to be
lavish and none to economize. As far as money
matters are concerned, any power of voting pos-
sessed by them is a violation of the fundamental
principle of free government, a severance of the
power of control from the interest in its beneficial
exercise. It amounts to allowing them to put
their hands into other people's pockets for any
purpose which they think fit to call a public one,
which in great towns of the United States is
known to have produced a scale of local taxation
onerous beyond example, and wholly borne by
the wealthier classes. That representation should
be coextensive with taxation, not stopping short
of it, but also not going beyond it, is in accord-
ance with the theory of British institutions.” It
is generally forgotten that municipal administra-
tion is but to a very limited degree a govern-
mental, and to a very large extent the mere co-
•operative management of property; that the
suffrage is a sword as well as a shield, and that
the power which enables the holder of the suf-
"frage to protect himself from the aggressions of
nothers is likewise a power by which he may ag-
gress upon the rights of others, the two being
inseparable; that, therefore, giving, under the
tforms of universal suffrage, the vast mass of peo-
ºple in a densely populated city the power to place
mortgages upon the properties of its wealthier
class, the proceeds of which are to be expended
for the personal enjoyment of the masses who
have not saved property, is, under the guise of
law, to organize communism and confiscation. So
jealous, however, are the American people of the
right of universal suffrage in all matters relating
to government, that they will not make the dis-
tinction which in the nature of things is proper
to be made, by withdrawing in part, at least,
municipal administration from the widest appli-
cation of universal suffrage, lest, by such a pre-
cedent, danger may creep in, and the people grad-
ually become accustomed to the withdrawal of
political power, in matters in which all have a like
interest, to wit, their state and national adminis-
trations. – Those who found their hope of reform
upon the limitation of the suffrage arising from
the applicatiou of a standard of qualifications of
an intellectual or an educational character, are
fighting against the tendencies of the times, and
are but little likely to prevail. They also can
base their well-grounded objections to counting
instead of weighing votes upon the authority of
Mr. Mill, who, in the work already cited, says:
“In all human affairs every person directly in-
terested, and not under positive tutelage, has an
admitted claim to a voice, and, when his exer-
cise of it is not inconsistent with the Safety of the
whole, can not justly be excluded from it. But
(though every one ought to have a voice) that
every one should have an equal voice is a totally
different proposition. When two persons who
have a joint interest in any business differ in
opinion, does justice require that both opinions
shall be held of exactly equal value? The opinion,
the judgment of the higher moral or intellectual
being is worth more than that of the inferior, and
if the institutions of the country virtually assert
that they are of the same value, they assert the
thing which is not.” He therefore says, that “two
or more votes might be allowed to every person
who exercises any superior function. The liberal
professions imply a still higher degree of instruc-
tion, and whenever a sufficient examination or any
serious conditions of education are required be-
fore entering upon a profession, its members could
be admitted at once to a plurality of votes. The
same rule might be applied to graduates of uni-
versities. All these suggestions,” he says, “are
open to discussion as to details, but,” he concludes,
“it is to me evident that in this direction lies the
true ideal of representative government, and that
to work toward it by the best practical contrivances
which can be found, is the path of real political
improvement.” The extent to which he would
carry this plurality of votes he does not commit
himself to, but insists that ‘it should not be car-
ried to any point which would enable a few to
outnumber the great mass of the community, but
that it shall be carried far enough to prevent the
more intelligent from being overslaughed at the
polls by the less instructed. —We now come to
treat of the most radical, while at the same time
592
REPRESENTATION.
the most natural, reform of the evils of representa-
tive government—that which is known as totality
or minority representation. When a single per-
son is to appoint an agent, there is no difficulty
except as to a wise selection. When two people
are to appoint an agent, there may be divergence
of opinion as to the agent to be appointed, and
except by agreement there is no possibility to make
an appointment. When three people are to ap-
point an agent, if there is but one agent to be
appointed, then must necessarily be given to the
majority of the three the right to appoint. It is
true that the minority might as well have no voice
at all after the agent is appointed against his
wishes, because his views are not likely to prevail
with the agent. If a hundred men are to appoint
a single agent, again must be given to the major-
ity of fifty-one or more the right to appoint that
agent, as the only practical solution for the diffi.
culty of the situation. But if the hundred men
have five agents to appoint, to give to fifty-one
the power to appoint all five, and to leave the
forty-nine wholly and completely unrepresented
in the agency, is an injustice which is gratuitous,
and not in the least justified by the necessity of
the situation. It is just as easy to take the vote
of the constituency of a hundred upon a plan
which shall secure to each quota, of twenty men
each, the right to a representative, as to take the
vote upon the existing plan of majorities and
minorities. The result, however, in one case is
to make the representation of five, when elected
by squads of twenty each, an actual reduced pho-
tograph of the wishes and will of the hundred as
far as practically ascertainable, and in the other
case the representation will merely represent the
wishes and will of the majority, and probably,
from the excitement of the election in which the
minority were beaten, oppose the views of such
minority with vehemence and bitterness. There-
fore the minority are not only not represented, but
are frequently maliciously pursued by the repre-
sentatives of their constituency for their effort to
defeat the representatives; and as their constant
agitation to become the majority endangers the
representatives’ seats, they will attempt in every
way to thwart the minority of their own constitu-
ency. A perpetual antagonism is, therefore, cre-
ated in constituencies, and between constituencies
and their representatives, which ought not in the
nature of things to exist, and for which there is no
necessity. Dividing the number of voters by the
number of representatives to be elected, and giv-
ing to the quotient an absolute right to return one
member, is, it is true, a great revolution in mod-
ern political practice, but is, nevertheless, abso-
lutely the only means by which some of the most
flagrant evils incident to representative institu-
tions can be cured. —Whoever may be entitled to
the merit of first devising this great improvement
in the machinery of representative institutions,
whether it be Earl Gray, Mr. Craig of England,
or Mr. Fisher of Pennsylvania, its ablest and fore-
most exponent, who has devoted a lifetime to its
explanation and exposition, is Mr. Thomas Hare,
of England. The draft of a new law of parlia-
mentary representation contained in his work,
‘‘ On Representation,” is commented on by John
Stuart Mill as having “the unparalleled merit of
carrying out a great principle of government in a
manner approaching to ideal perfection as regards
the special object in view, while it attains inci-
dentally several other ends of scarcely inferior
importance.” His plan is, through the instru-
mentality of the voter's own choice as expressed
upon an election ticket, to secure the transfer of
his votes, whenever the voter's first choice has
already been elected, or in the event of the voter's
first choice not securing enough votes for an elec-
tion; so that no votes are wasted. In a constitu-
ency which is to return say, eight members of con-
gress, the voters declare, in the order in which
they prefer to be represented, their preference for
eight or as many more persons as they see fit to
put upon their tickets. When the election officers
come to count the votes, they will find a certain
number of persons as first choices, whose election
is secured by obtaining the requisite quota—the
quota to be ascertained by dividing the number
of seats to be filled, plus one, by the number of
votes cast at the election. The object of making
the divisor larger by one than the actual number
of seats to be filled, is to diminish the chances of
an equal number of votes or ties, and to increase
the chances of filling seats without resorting to
approximate or transferred quotas. The votes
are thereupon transferred to the other choices in
the manner designated by Mr. Hare. To this plan
it is not necessary further to advert in this arti-
cle.— A still greater simplification to secure minor-
ity representation is to allow voters to vote but for
single names in large districts, and to give to the
representative in the representative body one vote
for every hundred or thousand or ten thousand
votes cast for him. To prevent the representative
body from being too large an organization, a mini-
mum must be established, that no one shall be con-
sidered elected who has not received 5,000 votes.
To prevent too small a body, a maximum must be
fixed beyond which a representative's additional
votes shall not give him additional votes in the
house. If 5,000 votes is the minimum, the repre-
sentative might be regarded as having one vote for
the first 5,000, and an additional vote for every
5,000 that have been cast in addition for him.
This would enable communities to select popular
men in whom they have confidence, and give to
them a plurality of votes, and yet prevent the
minority from being excluded from the repre-
sentative chamber. Many other plans have been
suggested by other writers. The list plan of Ge-
neva, elaborated mainly by Ernst, Naville; the
minority representation plan of Mr. Andrae; the
plans of Messrs. Droop, Bailey and Dobbs, and the
cumulative plan, all seek to attain the same ob-
ject in different ways, and each has its special
merit and defects; but the great object to be at-
tained by minority representation is the breaking
REPRESENTATION.
593
up of the existing political machinery, the tyranny
and the power of which exists simply because
machinery of some kind is a necessity to organize
a majority in the district, by making bargains and
dickers and arrangements to capture votes here
and votes there, so as to Secure representation. To
be in the minority is to be disfranchised. With mi-
nority representation all this elaborate machinery
becomes needless. Citizens will be represented in
proportion to their numerical strength, through the
instrumentality of the very slightest organization,
and they are encouraged to organize, as the task
set before them is not an almost hopeless one, as it
is made under existing conditions to the non-polit-
ical class, whereby it is compelled to put forth a .
powerful effort, which may result in no success at
all, which is extremely costly in time and money,
and which is wholly lost unless a majority of all the
votes is secured. Giving political power in propor-
tion to the effort put forth, is one of the first bene-
ficial results arising from minority representation.
— The second advantageous result arising from
this system of election, is the facility it will afford
to the intellectual part of the community to secure
a representation in town councils, legislative cham-
bers and the halls of congress, which is now ab-
solutely denied to them. Every form of public
opinion, as it grows in strength, would have
its strength actually measured and its growth
watched by the increase of representatives, and
the representatives would, under those circum-
stances, always be the strongest and ablest men
holding such opinions. Had such a system, by
any fortunate accident, existed prior to the civil
war, the south would have discovered the growth
of the anti-slavery sentiment in the north before
it was overwhelmed by it, and even a hopeless
minority in the South who were opposed to
slavery, and the minority in the south who were
in favor of the Union at all hazards, would have
had their representatives in Congress, and the
controversy on slavery would have been less sec-
tional than, under a false system of taking votes,
it was made to appear to be. Free traders would
have their representatives in congress; the anti-
monopolist's voice would be heard long before
it became that of a majority, and parties would
again become standard bearers of principle, in-
stead of, as now, mere followers of political
principles, in the expectation of catching votes
—a demoralized condition, created by the false
importance in a majority system of the floating
vote, which induces parties quite as often to
deny their own cherished political principles
from the fear of losing votes by the advocacy
of what for the time the leaders suppose to be
obnoxious to the popular will, just as they fre-
Quently insincerely adopt political principles in
the expectation of catching small sections of
voters. “Nothing but habit and old associations,”
says Mr. Mill, “can reconcile any reasonable be-
ing to the needless injustice of this mere majority
representation. In a really equal democracy
every order in the section would be represented,
157 VOL. III. — 38
not disproportionately but proportionately. A
majority of the electors would always have a ma-
jority of the representatives, but a minority of
the electors would always have a minority of the
representatives. Unless this be so, there is no
equal government; but a government of inequal-
ity and privilege. One part of the people rule
over the rest. There is a part whose fair and
equal share of influence in representation is with-
held from them, contrary to all just government,
but above all, contrary to the principle of democra-
cy, which professes equality as its very root and
foundation.” Incidentally be it mentioned that
this plan would secure to a capable man a career
in political life as secure as in any profession, as
he would not be dependent on the accidental ma-
jority of his district, but could always rely upon
obtaining a quota vote. — The cowardice of mod-
ern political parties is best indicated by the fact
that no party in the United States dares, in modern
days, ever present its strongest man for the presi-
dency, because, having been long in the public
eye, he is sure to have offended a great number of
yoters whose adhesion is necessary to make a
majority. Availability, therefore, takes the place
of true ability. The adoption of minority rep-
resentation also solves, in advance, all the objec-
tions to the extension of the suffrage, and would
secure to the tax payer by combination, what it
is impossible for him to secure now in relation to
municipal administration—a strong contingent of
representatives of the tax payer in the city coun-
cils, to act as a check and brake on extravagant
expenditures. If the scheme of minority repre-
sentation is extended, by making large districts
and numerous representatives from such districts,
it would also give within party lines such inde-
pendent action as to create a balance-of-power
party within the party, and would thus forever
destroy the supremacy of halls and juntas, who
hold their power simply because the alternative
presented to the voter is to accept their candidate
or the candidate of a hall or organization equally
bad but belonging to the opposing political Organ-
ization. — To the objection that may be urged,
that minority representation would secure to the
sinister elements of a community a representation
if they saw fit to combine, the answer is, that it
is better that the representative of the sinister
elements should be known as such, than that a
private arrangement be made with the sinister
elements of a community by which they secure
surreptitiously and secretly several representatives
on condition of their support, and thus obtain by
bargain a very much larger share than they could
obtain by right.—The one formidable objection to
the whole scheme of minority representation, and
which is really the price that the community must
pay for the total representation of the community,
is, that it has a tendency to prevent the spirit of
compromise and mutual forbearance, which party
has a tendency to create. The community would
possibly split up into too many segments. Oppor-
tunity of representation being afforded to small
594
REPRESENTATION,
quotas, the Catholic, the Jew, the infidel, might
Secure separate representation, and thus intensify
religious feeling. Workingmen and capitalists
might secure separate representation; and thus the
same reason which would make minority repre-
sentation act as a solvent of political parties, might
result in its acting as a solvent on constituencies
which Ought to be held together in the bands
of party, thereby cultivating mutual good will,
which probably would not exist were their parts
to be exclusively committed to their own class for
political action. The only answer to this position
is the universal experience of mankind, that the
instant men are clothed with the responsibility of
government, acerbity is lessened, and the intoler.
ance which characterizes them as sectaries or
partisans without political power is diminished.
To give to minorities, therefore, who now have
no chance of representation, an opportunity to
have their voices heard, coupled with the respon-
sibility that their recommendations must be put
in practicable shape for legislation, and that the
responsibility of such legislation rests upon their
shoulders if adopted by the majority, has in itself a
very sobering influence on all violent and extreme
opinions, and subjects them to the severest tests
to which opinions can be subjected, that of discus-
sion with well-trained adverse opinions, and that of
practicability to frame statutes to enforce such
opinions. – Admitting Catholics and Jews to par-
liament was opposed, on the ground that, in the one
case, a superior allegiance was considered due
from the Catholic to the pope, and in the other
case, that the Jew regarded every country in which
he lived as but a mere resting place, that his true
home was in Palestine, and that these convictions
made both sects unpatriotic. Their admission,
however, has proved how utterly groundless was
this objection; that there are no more patriotic
members of parliament than the Catholics and the
Jews, is now past controversy. Indeed, in all
matters of legislation the religious conviction
scarcely ever comes to the surface, except where
it is necessary for the purpose of preventing some
act of intolerance to formulate itself into law. —
In boards of direction of corporations the adop-
tion of a minority scheme of representation would
be the most absolute Security to insure continu-
ity of direction and purpose in a less objection-
able form than the adoption of a classification
scheme, by which only a few of the directors
go out each year, and would also prevent the
possibility of a capture of a corporation through
the instrumentality of proxies representing fic-
titious holdings, borrowings of stock, etc., by
which great corporations have been depleted and
the interests of the stockholders wholly disre-
garded. Even if the majority of the board of
direction would truly represent the majority of
the stockholding interest, a watchful and alert
minority would prevent the diverting of the
property and management of the road to sinister
purposes, and be a check more efficacious than
are courts or laws to prevent corporate misman-
of the burglar.
agement. — Finally, we must recognize, with ref-
erence to governmental machinery, that it, like
all machinery devised by men, must be progres-
sively improved to adapt it to the varying needs
of society. The devices to prevent tyranny and
oppression which answered the purposes of the
people against the kingly power of a John, a
Charles or a George are as little adapted to modern
Society as is the crude machinery of those periods
to the necessities of man in civilized life at the
present day. For the satisfaction of all physical
wants immense progress has been made in every
direction. The art of government, however, has
not been so progressive. The safe maker has kept
pace with, and is a little in advance of, the skill
The art of government has not
kept pace with the skil, and ingenuity of those
who require its restraining influences. The op-
pression which in former periods exhibited itself
on the banks of the Rhine, by a robber baron
sweeping down upon a rich neighboring commu-
nity and depleting it of its movable property, or
by his kin in spirit, locking up in his dungeon
keep some rich Jew, and drawing his teeth until he
disgorged his wealth, now manifests itself in cor.
porate management in stock waterings, and in con-
fiscation under the guise of taxation, in river and
harbor bills, in protective tariffs, and thousands
of other forms which are tyranny and exaction
disguised under specious names to hide their na-
ture, and clothed with the machinery of govern-
ment itself to make the imposture complete. To
destroy these malignant abuses of governmental
machinery, effort must be made to give the gov.
ernment back to the people, freed from the organ-
ization which assumes to act for the people, but
which misrepresents and abuses them. There is,
therefore, no art or science to which the human
intellect can devote itself of a more practical and
immediately beneficial nature than reforms in rep-
resentation, which lie at the bottom and root of
modern government, so as to make representative
bodies the true exponents of popular interests in-
stead of fraudulent representatives of the popular
will. “Representation should effect for the na-
tion,” says Mirabeau, “what a chart does for the
physical configuration of the soil—producing not
only a reduced picture of the whole of the peo-
ple, but also representing their classes, their aspi-
rations, wishes and opinions.” The body of rep-
resentatives should produce on the mind of the
student of a nation's social constituencies an effect
similar to that produced on its territory, in repre-
senting its mountains and dales, its rivers and
lakes, forests and plains, cities and towns. The
finer should not be crushed out by the more
massive substances, and the latter not be ex-
cluded. The proportions are organic, the Scale
is national.
SIMON STERNE.
REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY.
DEMOCRACY, REPRESENTATIVE.)
(See
REPUBLIC.
595
*
REPUBLIC. This form of government is no
more independent than the monarchical of the his-
torical, geographical, ethnographical, and, above
all, moral conditions, which seem to predestine a
people to one or the other, by not leaving it the
liberty of choice between them except within
rather restricted limits. From this point of view,
all abstract comparison of the intrinsic merits of
monarchies and republics might seem superfluous,
and there would be occasion to ask one's self
whether the platonic love of a monarchy in coun-
tries with republican manners and customs, or of
the republican enthusiasm which possesses some
young minds or some generous imaginations in
scountries called by their inmost nature and their
past to hereditary monarchy, are not chimeras
which should be dispelled, and dangers which we
should endeavor to avert. — Without contesting
whatever truth there may be in such a conclusion,
we think that the forms of government may and
should be compared with each other and consid-
ered in themselves, and that it is the task of the
publicist, all due reservation being made in con-
sideration of what is possible in time and place, to
investigate their value, and to point out that which
constitutes their merits and their defects. Thus
the publicist, the least likely to be misled by de-
•ceptive appearances, and the most determined to
settle, in the choice of his political opinions, upon
what he judges to be actually practicable, will not
scorn the enthusiasm which a republic awakens in
noble minds, and he will examine whether it does
not partake of an ideal beauty for which he
should have some regard both as one of the ele-
Iments of the judgment which he passes on the re-
public, and of the influence which it exercises.
He will thus discover that elevated thought, lofty
and powerful sentiments, are connected with the
idea of a republic. In monarchies the devotion of
man to man occupies a large place, and far be it
from us to deny what it presents of the touching,
and sometimes of the heroic, or to question what
it has in it compatible with a love of the public
welfare; but it is less pure and less sublime than
that devotion which is directed to something supe-
rior to man himself, that is, to the fatherland, to
the law, to the state. All selfish prejudice, all
personal calculation, every fancy foreign to the
general interest, seems to disappear in this generous
:Sacrifice of each to all, and of the littleness of the
individual to the greatness of justice. To the idea
of devotedness, to that of an entirely stoical disin-
terestedness, is added another idea not less severe,
and more attractive because it is more natural,
that of equality united to liberty. Equality is to
such an extent the passion of republican minds
that the most aristocratic republics are no excep-
tion to it; only the practice and the worship of
equality are concentrated within a limited circle,
instead of extending to all the citizens. It is to
equality that all, in a republican aristocracy, sacri-
fice themselves; it is to it that they do not hesitate
to sacrifice the most illustrious heads; it is equality
Which impels, in spite of himself, in a manner, a
Brutus to arm himself against a Caesar. This
shows us the nature and the end of the republic;
it is a government founded upon general interest
and equality, the motive power of which are dis-
interestedness, devotedness, and, let us add, popu-
larity, with the honors which it confers. If all
think they find their advantage in this form of
government, it is on the Supreme condition of de-
fending, at the cost of the greatest struggles, a
good, precious from the double point of view of
individual dignity and of utility. This is why
the most generous dreamers as well as the most
rigorous logicians come, by some sort of instinct,
to the idea of a republic. This is why it has pro-
duced so many virtues, of the sublimest kind,
offered by history to the admiration of future gen-
erations. – But what constitutes the greatness of
this form of government is also the source of its
difficulties and dangers, which no clearsighted re-
publican can deny. Equality, which is the Soul
of republics, encounters two formidable enemies:
ambition, which conspires against it, and envy,
which exaggerates it. The former can not be re-
signed to accept the yoke of a law, the same for
all; the latter rebels against the superiority of
fortune and of merit; it tries to level the One, and
devotes itself to railing at the other. Taxation
directed against the rich, schemes of agrarian law,
privileges in favor of the poor, suspicions of the
well-to-do and enlightened part of the population
—all these spring up in republics. “For,” says
the old publicist, Jean Bodin, with a severity
which is not exaggerated if applied to the past,
‘‘the real natural disposition of a people is to have
full liberty without any restraint or curb what-
ever, to have all equal in goods, in honors, in
punishments, in rewards, without any regard to
rank, or knowledge, or virtue.” Who does not
know that, up to the present time, great citizens
in republics have always had to defend themselves
(and sometimes without success) against Calumny?
If favor has its vicissitudes in a monarchy, how
few reputations in republics withstand the exer-
cise of power for however short a time. To what
contumely in the most irreproachable of republics,
the United States, so often cited as a model, were
their Washingtons, Hamiltons and Madisons not
exposed? What accusations against their generals
in the ancient republics of Greece! What terrible
changes of popularity and what bloody sacrifices
to that capricious power, in the short and stormy
attempt at a republic made by France in 1793
The moderate republic of 1848 did not Sully her-
self with blood; she spilt it only in the arena of
civil war, when that of the best citizens flowed
voluntarily in the service of public order. But
did any one's popularity last longer than three
months? Was this the fault solely of the men
who governed? Be that as it may, there is not a
historian, not an enlightened publicist, who has
not declared that jealousy, suspicion, and the
spirit of change, are the especial dangers of re-
publics, as favoritism and intrigue are those of
monarchies. But the first-named vices are those
bj96
REPUBLIC.
of the majority; the second belong to only a small
number. Thence comes the expression which is
never applied to a monarchy, that a people is not
pipe for a republic. In fact, equality requires
customs and manners, a character and an educa-
tion suited to it. The same may be said of liberty
which every republic proclaims as being of its
very essence, and without which there would be
no equality but the sad and shameful equality of
servitude. No doubt a form of government which
constantly involves individual responsibility, and
often subjects it to severe tests, presents especial
difficulties. To govern one's self and to take part
in public affairs, an amount of intelligence and a
mixture of firmness and moderation are needed
which are not everywhere distributed in sufficient
quantity to establish a regular and stable state of
affairs. Number being, in the name of equality,
one of the essential elements of republican institu-
tions, if the corrupt, the incapable, those who are
easily seduced and led away, get the ascendency,
all is lost. There must then be either anarchy or
a master; there is no middle path. These are so
fully understood to be the dangers of a republic
that there is no republican constitution which
does not undertake, to a greater or less degree, to
foresee and in some measure guard against them.
But republican constitutions do not always do
this sufficiently, or else they are themselves but
powerless dikes, swept away by the impetuous
current of human passions. – It is of the essence
of a democratic republic to fill by election a por-
tion of the offices which monarchy fills by hered-
itary transmission. It is reason alone which is
regarded as governing in a republic. Now, reason
excludes chance and those artificial privileges in-
stituted in the interest of conservation. Monarch-
ies, even constitutional monarchies, are full of fic-
tions and conventions. A republic judges them
unworthy of men arrived at political maturity,
and useless to preserve society from revolution.
Consequently it eliminates them, being replete
with confidence in the upright will and enlightened
capacity of the people. If this confidence is jus-
tified, the republican form is maintained and pros-
pers. If not, the republican form is impaired and
destroyed, either by slow dissolution or by a vio-
lent downfall. — Says Montesquieu, “Govern-
ment is like all other things in the world: to pre-
serve it, it must be loved. No One has ever heard
it said that kings do not love monarchy, or that
despots hate despotism.” A republic can be no
exception; to establish it in a country, it does not
suffice that a minority desire it, or even wish to
impose it; there must be a nation of republicans as
willing to receive it as capable of upholding it. —
It has been sometimes said that the difficulty con-
sists in reconciling a monarchy with liberty and a
republic with order.
much truth in the reverse proposition. A non-
absolute monarchy, giving satisfaction by life-
long and hereditary power to the want of conser-
vation, is less fearful of liberty, if liberty enters
into and keeps its pledge to respect the royal es-
There would be at least as
tablishment. That establishment has no interest,
to threaten liberty; it has, on the contrary, every
interest to take care of it. This care is the price
of the force of public opinion which sustains it.
In republics, liberty, recognized as sovereign in
principle, runs Serious risks. The power, under
the form which best represents order in the eyes.
of the nation, is temporary. Hence the necessity
of arming it in an exceptional way, or of arming
One's self against its possible encroachments, or
by precautions which are embarrassing to all.
The majority Oppresses the minority, or else the
minority governs through terror. If we can not.
See in this a fatal and inevitable law, it has at least.
been, up to the present time, the history of the
greater number of republics. Another cause threat-
ens liberty: its own excesses. Too frequently have
we seen republics knowing no alternative but ex-
cessive or suspended liberty. Happy were they
when this suspension of liberty did not end in its
suppression, and when temporary dictatorships
were not changed into a lasting tyranny!—The
error of the greater part of the republican schools.
has until now consisted in believing that a repub-
lic had not to solve the problem of equilibrium;
that it is a government of absolute simplicity, and
has no need of being tempered. This thought has
led some to the idea of a direct government of the
people, excluding even a representative govern-
ment; an idea which caused the author of L’Esprit
des lois to say: “There was one great defect in
most of the ancient republics: that in them the
people believed they had the right to make active
resolutions requiring some sort of execution, a.
thing of which the people is utterly incapable.
The people should not enter into the government.
except to choose their representatives, which is
Quite within their power. For, if there are but
few people who know the precise degree of men's
capacity, each one is nevertheless capable of know-
ing in general if the one whom he chooses is more
enlightened than most others.” The same opinion
as to absolute simplicity has led other politicians.
to the idea of a civic assembly. Experience, as
well as reason, teaches that republics can not, save
at the risk of death, abandon themselves to the
descending plane or declivity of a civic principle
or element. There is no society which does not.
contain natural aristocracies of experience, learn-
ing, age, etc., within it. And, on the other hand,
there is no society, however strongly Organized its
privileges may be, in which the masses are not.
important, and do not count for something in the
state. Notwithstanding their inclination to ex-
aggerate simplicity and to crush out whatever Ob-
structed the full expansion of their principle, the
constitutions of antiquity felt this. Aristocratic
as was the Roman republic, it modified the power
of the senate by means of the tribunes and popular
suffrage. Democratic as was Athens, it had the
Areopagus. It is true that the wise precautions
taken by Solon did not prevent the country of
Aristides and Socrates from Succumbing to the
propensities which hurried it on. The more and
REPUBLICAN PARTY.
597
more exclusive predominance of the popular ele-
ment produced disorders there, the undying re-
membrance of which is preserved by history, as a
lesson to democracies, present or future, which
choose not to recognize any restraint.—The United
States itself has endeavored to combine the differ-
ent powers in such a manner as to Secure respect
for the law against the changeable will of the
multitude. The president possesses extensive
powers, and, in spite of pure ultra-republican
theory, there is a moderating senate side by side
with the popular assembly, or house of represen-
tatives. Any constitution, monarchical, republi-
can, aristocratic or democratic, which does not dis-
trust its own principle, at the same time that it does
all it can to establish it on a Solid basis, is a bad
constitution. — The excessively unitarian and cen-
tralizing propensities which govern in Some coun-
tries, make this observation especially opportune.
A republic which should have only a very central-
ized power, with no independent powers to act as
a counterpoise, would run the risk of becoming
more oppressive than a monarchy. If to this
cause of oppression should be added the necessity
of being on the defensive in order to resist either
hostile parties within, or menaces from without,
it is clear that liberty would be exposed to painful
lisappointment. Every liberal republic involves
a certain amount of administration. What were
the republics of Greece and the Italian republics
of the middle ages? Brilliant municipalities.
American federalism is not necessarily the form
of a free republic, but a certain amount of decen-
...tralization seems to us to be an indispensable con-
dition for such a republic. A free republic can
be understood only where much is left to individ-
uals and to associations. Otherwise, what result
would have been obtained by so many revolutions?
A change of name ! But of what consequence is
it to the world whether an omnipotent government
call itself a monarchy or a republic?
HENRI BAUDRILLART.
REPUBLICAN PARTY (IN U. S. HISTORY),
the name, 1, of the original democratic party (see
DEMOCRATIC PARTY, I.), and, 2, of the most pow-
erful opponent of the democratic party, 1854–82.
In the latter case, it seems to have been assumed,
in great measure, for the purpose of making use
of the still lingering reverence for the name in
the northern states; and yet it seems far more ap-
propriate to its modern than to its original claim-
ant. The original republicans looked upon the
Union as a democracy, whose constituent units
were not persons, but states; and, hence, the name
democratic party, which they finally accepted al-
most to the exclusion of the name republican, was
their proper title. The modern republicans looked
upon the Union as a republic of itself, apart from
all the states, and able to assert the integrity of its
territory against any of the states; and though,
like every other American minority, they were
ready upon occasion to assert the Sovereignty of
the states (see STATE SovKREIGNTY, PERSONAL
LIBERTY LAWS), their essential characteristic was
that belief in the political existence of the nation
which has controlled their whole party history,
and given them their claim to the name republi-
can. (See NATION.) From 1854 until 1861 the
party was engaged in opposing the extension of
slavery to the territories. Since 1861 it has con-
trolled the national government, and has been
successful in maintaining the power of the nation
to suppress resistance to the laws, even when mar-
shaled under state authority; to establish and con-
trol a system of national banks; to compel indi-
viduals to contribute money and military service
to national defense in time of war, the former by
the issue of legal-tender paper money, the latter
by drafts; to abolish slavery; to reconstruct the
governments of seceding states; to maintain and
defend the security of the emancipated race against
state laws; to regulate those state elections which
directly influence the national government ; and
to suppress polygamy in the territories. No other
political party has, therefore, exerted so enormous
an influence upon the essential nature of the gov-
ernment in so short a time. — I. : 1854–61. But
one party, the democratic, emerged unbroken, and
even increased, from the storm which was settled
by the compromise of 1850. For the next five
years there were only feeble and discordant ef-
forts to oppose it, by the free-soilers on the slavery
question, by the whigs on economic issues, and by
the know-nothings on the question of Suffrage.
The dominant party itself struck the sudden and
sharp blow which, in 1854, crystallized the jarring
elements of opposition into a single party. The
passage of the Kansas-Nebraska bill (see that title),
not imperatively demanded by the southern de-
mocracy, a quixotic adherence to party dogma
by the northern democracy, only served to rouse
a general alarm throughout the north. The sum-
mer and autumn of 1854 became an era of coali-
tions in most of the northern states; and the result
of the congressional elections of that year was
that the ‘‘anti-Nebraska men,” as the coalitionists
were called, obtained a plurality in the house over
the democrats and the distinct know-nothings, and
elected the speaker. A few members, elected as
anti-Nebraska men, turned out to be consistent
know-nothings; the remainder, however, still con-
trolled the house. — The elements which went to
make up the new party were very various and
numerous. 1. Its immediate ancestor was the
free-soil party, which joined it bodily. Of its first
leaders, Hale, Julian, Chase, C. F. Adams, Sum-
ner, Wilmot, F. P. Blair, and Preston King of
New York, were of this class. Many of these,
like Chase, were naturally democrats, but had
been forced into opposition to their party by its
unnecessary deference to the feelings of its south-
ern wing. 2. But these alone could not have
formed the basis of a new party. This was Sup-
plied by former whigs, either originally anti-
slavery, or forced into that attitude by the com-
promise of 1850. Of this class, Lincoln, Seward,
Greeley, Fessenden, Thaddeus Stevens, Sherman,
598
REPUBLICAN PARTY.
Dayton, Corwin of Ohio, and Collamer of Wer-
mont, were fair examples. This element, being
much the more numerous and influential, con-
trolled the policy of the new party on other points
than slavery, and made it a broad-construction
party, inclined toward a protective tariff, internal
improvements, and government control over bank-
ing. 3. Much less numerous was the class, which,
originally whig or democratic, had at first entered
the know-nothing organization, but drifted into
the new party as the struggle against slavery grew
hotter. Of this class, Wilson, Banks, Burlingame,
Colfax, and Henry Winter Davis, were examples,
though some of them had been free-soilers as well
as know-nothings. 4. In, but not of, the new
party, were the original abolitionists, led by Gid-
dings and Lovejoy in congress, and Garrison and
Wendell Phillips out of congress. These were
the guerrillas of the party, for whose utterances
it did not hold itself responsible, and who were
yet always leading it into a stronger opposition to
slavery. 5. A fifth class, not so numerous as the
second, but fully as important from a party point
of view, came directly from the democratic party,
Hamlin, Cameron of Pennsylvania, Trumbull of
Illinois, Doolittle of Wisconsin, Montgomery Blair,
Wm. C. Bryant of New York, and Gideon Wells
of Connecticut, being examples. These, and the
rank and file represented by them, brought into
the new party that feeling of dependence upon
the people, and of consideration for the feelings,
and even the prejudices, of the people, which the
whig party had always lacked. They made the
new party a popular party, as the original demo-
crats had made the original republicans a popular
party. 6. Last, and generally temporary in their
connection, were the ‘‘ war democrats,” who united
with the republicans during the war of the rebell-
ion, such as Andrew Johnson, B. F. Butler, Stan-
ton, Holt of Kentucky, McClernand and Logan
of Illinois, and Dix, Dickinson, Lyman Tremain,
Cochrane and Sickles of New York. Many of
these dropped out again after the end of the re-
bellion; though some, as Butler, Stanton and Lo-
gan, were more permanent in their connection. —
The unification of all these elements was evi-
dently a difficult and delicate operation, and was
only made possible by the transcendent interest in
the restriction of slavery; but the fortunate adop-
tion of the name republican, endeared by tradi-
tion to former democrats, and not at all objection-
able to former whigs, aided materially in the work.
Wilson states that this name was settled upon by
a meeting of Some thirty members of the house,
on the day after the passage of the Kansas-Ne-
braska bill, that is, May 23, 1854; and that the
leader of the meeting, Israel Washburn, of Maine,
began using the term immediately as a party name.
Another contemporaneous movement was in Ri-
pon, Wisconsin, where the name was suggested at
a coalition meeting, March 20, 1854, and formally
adopted at the state convention in July. The first
official adoption of the name is believed to have
been at the convention at Jackson, Michigan, July
6, 1854. During this and the next month it was.
also adopted by state conventions in Maine, Ohio,
Indiana, Illinois and Iowa, and may be consid-
ered as fairly established, though it was not recog-
nized in congress until the beginning of the next.
year. —In its first year of existence the new party.
obtained popular majorities in fifteen of the thirty-
one states, and elected eleven United States sena-
tors and a plurality of the house of representa-
tives. But these successes were mainly in the west;
the eastern states, and particularly New England,
resisted the entrance of the new party with tenac.
ity, and kept up the whig and know-nothing or-
ganizations through the presidential election of
1856. In December, 1855, the state committees.
of Ohio, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Vermont,
Wisconsin and Michigan issued a call for a con-
vention at Pittsburg, Feb. 22, 1856, to complete.
a national organization. This step was sufficient,
to show that the new party contained an element.
which distinguished it from the whig party. This
convention selected a national committee, and
called a national convention at Philadelphia, June.
17. When this convention met, it was found to
be a free-state body, with the exception of dele
gations from Delaware, Maryland and Kentucky.
The platform adopted declared the party opposed
to the repeal of the Missouri compromise, to the
extension of slavery to free territory, and to
the refusal to admit Kansas as a free state; it de-
clared that the power of congress over the national
territory was sovereign, and should be exerted
“to prohibit in the territories those twin relics of
barbarism, polygamy and slavery ''; it denounced
the Ostend manifesto (see that title); and declared
in favor of a Pacific railroad, and of “appropria-
tions by congress for the improvement of rivers
and harbors of a national character.” Nothing:
was said of the tariff. On the first ballot for a
candidate for president, Fremont had 359 votes,
McLean 196, Sumner 2, and Seward 1; and on.
the second ballot Fremont was nominated unani-
mously. On the informal ballot for a candidate:
for vice-president, Dayton received 259 votes,
Lincoln 110, Banks 46, Wilmot 43, Sumner 35,
and 53 were scattering; and on the formal ballot.
Dayton was unanimously nominated. Fremont's.
nomination was intended to gratify the free-soil
and democratic elements of the party, to provide a
popular rallying cry, “free soil, free speech, free
men, and Fremont,” to present a candidate free
from antagonisms on the slavery question, and
thus to win votes on all sides. Dayton's nomina-
tion was the whig share of the result. Fremont.
was defeated (see ELECTORAL WOTES, XVIII.),
but his defeat was a narrow one, and the votes of
Illinois and Pennsylvania would have made him.
president. It is noteworthy that in 1860 provision
was made for both these states, for the former by
Lincoln's nomination, and for the latter by a pro-
tective tariff clause in the platform.—The election.
of 1856 ended the party’s first flood tide. The
congressional elections of that year were so far un-
favorable that there were but 92 republicans out of
REPUBLICAN PARTY.
599
237 members in the congress of 1857–9. In the de-
velopment of a separate organization the coalition
had sloughed off all its doubtful members, and
had become fairly compacted and complete. Be-
fore the next congressional elections the disruption
of the know-nothing organization in the northern
states, the decision in the Dred Scott case (see that
title), and the Lecompton bill (see KANSAs), gave
it recruits enough to more than balance its losses.
When the congress of 1859 met, the “black re.
publican party” had become, to southern politi-
cians, a portentous cloud covering all the northern
sky. In the senate it now had twenty-five mem-
bers to thirty-eight democrats; and not only were
the re-elections of the few northern democratic
Senators very doubtful, but new republican states
were almost ready to demand admission. In the
house all the northern members were republicans,
except two from California, five from Illinois,
three from Indiana, one from Michigan, four from
New York, six from Ohio, three from Pennsyl-
vania, and one each from Oregon and Wisconsin,
and eight anti-Lecompton democrats, who were
certain to vote against the southern claims to the
territories. Party contest in congress at once
assumed a virulence which it had not before been
subject to. In both houses the republicans were
charged with complicity in the Harper's Ferry
rising, and in the publication of Helper's “Im-
pending Crisis,” a recently published abolitionist
book. In the house, candidates for speaker were
nominated by the republicans (113 in number),
the democrats (93), the anti-Lecompton democrats
(8), and the “Americans,” or know-nothings (23).
For eight weeks no candidate could command a
majority. The opposition to the republicans could
not be completely united in voting for any candi-
date, or in voting that any member who had in-
dorsed Helper's book, as most of the republican
members had done, was “not fit to be speaker of
this house.” Finally, the original republican
candidate, Sherman, having been withdrawn, and
Pennington of New Jersey, having been substi-
tuted, he was elected, Feb. 1, 1860, by the aid of
a few “American” votes. But, despite the speak-
er's election, the republicans had no control of
legislation, with the exception of the passage of
a homestead bill, which was vetoed by the presi-
dent. — When the national Convention met at Chi-
cago, May 16, 1860, the hopes of the party were
high, its organization complete, and its charac-
ter for the future determined. Its elements had
been so welded together that the division lines
had almost disappeared; but so far as it remained,
it was certain that the old whig element would
now take the leading nomination and control the
general policy of the party, while the old demo-
cratic element would be content with the second
nomination and the comfortable consciousness of
familiar methods in party management. The del-
egates were from the free states, with the excep-
tion of the delegates from Delaware, Maryland,
Virginia and Kentucky, and a fraudulent delega-
tion from Texas. The platform was much like
that of 1856, except that the conjunction of po-
lygamy and slavery, peculiarly exasperating to the
South, was dropped; a homestead law, and pro-
tection for domestic manufactures in arranging
the tariff, were demanded; and democratic threats
of secession and disunion were denounced. For
the first place on the ticket, Seward was strongly
supported, and he was as strongly opposed, for
the assigned reason that his anti-slavery struggle
had made him an unavailable candidate ; but
much of the opposition to him came from the
mysterious ramifications of factions in New York.
On the first ballot, Seward had 17.3% votes, Lin-
coln 102, Cameron 50%, Chase 49, Bates 48, and
42 were scattering; on the second, Seward 1843,
Lincoln 181, Chase 42%, Bates 35, and 22 were
scattering; and on the third, Lincoln 231}, Seward
180, and 53% were scattering. Before another
ballot could be taken, votes were so changed as to
give Lincoln 354 votes, and he was nominated.
For vice-president, on the first ballot, Hamlin had
194 votes, C. M. Clay 1014, and 1653 were scatter-
ing; on the second, Hamlin had 367 votes to 99
for others, and was nominated.— In the campaign
which followed, the party employed popular
methods still more effectively than in 1856. With
the exception of the ignominious success of 1840,
no previous party had met the democratic party
on its own ground. No appeal that could be
made to the attention of the people was neglected;
monster wigwams, and long processions of “wide-
awakes’ with torches, transparencies and music,
attracted listeners to the political speeches ; and
for these the party could now command at least
as high an order of ability as its opponents. Its
candidates obtained the votes of all the freestates,
except three from New Jersey, and were elected.
(See ELECTORAL WOTEs, XIX.) From this time
the work of the party for the next four years is
told elsewhere. (See articles referred to under
REBELLION.)—II. : 1861–9. No dominant party
ever passed through such a trying experience as
did the republican party during the rebellion.
Its majority in congress was only due to the ab-
sence of southern representatives; and, even with
this aid, its majority in the house was hardly pre-
served in the congress of 1863–5. Nevertheless
the management of the party was generally wise
and successful. The extreme anti-slavery element
was held in check; and, to secure the co-operation
of the small but essential percentage of “war
democrats,” the name “Union party’ was adopt-
ed, and other measures of conciliation were con-
trived. Lincoln, in particular, was obnoxious
both to the extreme radicals, who disliked his
temporizing policy, and to the more timid mem-
bers of the party, who feared the effects of his
emancipation proclamation. Efforts were made to
obtain the nomination of Chase, partly as a vindi-
cation of the “one-term policy,” partly as a re-
buke of “presidential patronage,” and partly to
secure a more careful management of the curren-
cy; but the republican members of the Ohio legis-
lature declared for Lincoln's renomination, and
600
REPUBLICAN PARTY.
this seems to have ended the Chase movement.
A more turbulent but less formidable reaction was
a convention of “radical men” at Cleveland, May
31, 1864, which nominated Fremont and John
Cochrane of New York, and demanded a more
vigorous prosecution of the war, the confiscation
of the estates of rebels, and their distribution
among soldiers and actual settlers. The candi-
dates accepted the nominations, but withdrew be-
fore the election. —In the mass of the party there
was no hesitation. When the “Union national con-
vention” met at Baltimore, June 7, 1864, Lincoln
was renominated by acclamation after an informal
ballot of 492 votes for him and 22 for Grant.
To conciliate the war democrats, one of their
number was to be nominated for vice-president,
and the choice lay between Andrew Johnson and
Daniel S. Dickinson of New York. On the first
ballot Johnson had 200 votes, Hamlin 145, and
Dickinson 113; but votes were at once changed to
Johnson, and his nomination was made unani-
mous. The platform approved the unconditional
prosecution of the War, the acts and proclama-
tions aimed at slavery, the proposed 13th amend-
ment abolishing slavery, the policy of President
Lincoln, the construction of the Pacific railroad,
the redemption of the public debt, and the en-
forcement of the Monroe doctrine in Mexico.
For a little space during the summer the constant
slight checks to the national armies threw a cloud
over the prospects of republican success; but be-
fore the election a general and triumphant for-
ward movement of the army and navy made Lin-
coln's election a certainty (see ELECTORAL WOTEs,
XX.), and the war closed with the republican
party at its very high tide of success, triumphant
and united. — And yet, immediately after the
close of the rebellion, the party was to undergo a
more severe, because more insidious, test of its
steadiness. A succession of exciting events, the
assassination of President Lincoln, the offer of
rewards for the chiefs of the confederacy and
their hurried flight toward the seacoast, the long
funeral of the dead president, and the trial of the
conspirators in the assassination, appealed directly
to the wild justice of revenge; and the appeal was
to be resisted, if at all, by republican equilibrium
of mind, for the opposition was almost silenced
for the time. It is fair to say that the test was
endured successfully, and that there was no gen-
eral desire for sweeping vengeance upon the con-
quered. Men rather felt a strong sense of relief
when the excitement subsided, business was al-
lowed to take its wonted course again, and polit-
ical problems were remanded to the federal gov-
ernment for consideration. — This sense of relief
was not to be permanent. Congress was not in
session until December, 1865, and in the mean-
time the president actively began his policy of
reconstruction. (See RECONSTRUCTION, I.) Ev-
ery new expression of southern satisfaction with
“the president’s policy” was a fresh stimulus to
suspicion in the minds of men who had for four
years been engaged in suppressing a Southern re-
bellion; but it was not until after the meeting of
congress that the republicans were fully aroused
to the disadvantages, and the opposition to the
advantages, of the succession of a war demo-
crat to President Lincoln's place. There were
no important elections in 1865, and in those
which were held the republicans were everywhere
successful. The resolutions of their state con-
ventions were evidently guarded in language;
expressed approval of the president's policy so
far as it had been developed; but demanded ‘‘the
most substantial guarantees by congress” of the
Safety and rights of the southern negroes before the
seceding states should be admitted to representa-
tion. In other words, the party was not disposed
to a conflict with the president, but would keep
its goods as a strong man armed : it would not
object to his reconstruction of the state govern-
ments, if he would not object to the passage by
congress of such acts as the civil rights bill and
the freedmen's bureau bill (see those titles); but,
at the first sign of bad faith in the president, it
would strike at him and his policy with all its en-
ergy, through congress. – It is evident now that
this was the universal and deliberately formed
programme of the party, and that the party was
not forced into it by ultra leaders. These, on the
contrary, were steadily held in check during the
session of 1865–6, until the veto of the civil rights
bill showed the president’s intention to insist on
the admission of the seceding states to representa-
tion without “substantial guarantees.” Even
then the party majority in congress were content
with the passage over the veto of the two bills
named above, and the passage of the 14th amend-
ment, as a base of future operations; they then
adjourned and left the issue between themselves
and the president to the decision of the party.
The decision was promptly given. The repub-
lican state conventions in Illinois, Indiana, Iowa,
Kansas, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minne-
sota, New York, Ohio and Pennsylvania pro-
nounced against the president’s policy, and de-
clared that reconstruction must be effected by
“ the law-making power of the government.”
The other republican states were mainly silent be-
cause no state conventions were held; in not one
of them was the president’s policy approved.
On the contrary, the approval came from the
democratic party, whose leaders united with the
president's republican and war democratic Sup-
porters in a national convention at Philadelphia,
Aug. 14, 1866, commonly called the “arm-in-
arm convention,” from the manner in which the
Massachusetts and South Carolina delegates en-
tered it. In some states, as in Connecticut, the
federal office-holders openly supported the demo-
cratic candidates, with the formal approval of
the president, but the intact and vigorous repub-
lican organizations were successful. The result
of the elections of 1866 left every state north of
Mason and Dixon's line with a strong republican
majority in the legislature, and a republican gov.
ernor. Still more important, they gave the re-
REPUBLICAN PARTY.
601
publicans in the next congress an unequivocal
majority of all its members: 42 to 11 in the sen-
ate, and 143 to 49 in the house. If all the south-
ern states had been represented by democrats, the
republican majority would still have been 42 to 33
in the senate, and 143 to 99 in the house; until
the southern states were represented, the repub-
lican majority was sufficient to override the pres-
ident's veto in every case, and congress could
shape legislation at its will for two years to come.
— The republican national committee expelled its
president, Henry J. Raymond of New York, and
two of its members, who had taken sides with the
president, and war was fairly declared. The
president's utter want of tact and discretion un-
doubtedly made the republican victory over him
easier, but it would probably have been nearly as
complete in any event. His obstinate refusal to
make any terms only resulted in making the terms
accorded to the seceding states more severe, and
the work of reconstruction was carried out by
congress with hardly any thought of the presi-
dent, except as an obstructive. (See RECONSTRUC-
TION, I.) — It has been said that the party forced
its congressional majority into reconstruction, and
was not forced into it by its ultra leaders. Nev-
ertheless, it is certain that these leaders, during
the struggle, used the president’s denunciations of
congress to carry counteraction unnecessarily far.
The president had used without scruple his pow-
ers of appointment and removal to reward his
friends and punish his enemies; and the civil ser-
vice was thus made an instrument of offense
against the dominant party. The course of
events is elsewhere detailed. (See TENURE OF
OFFICE; IMPEACHMENTs, V.I.) How far the im-
peachment was desired by the mass of the party
can hardly be known. The ensuing national con-
vention pronounced the president to have “been
justly impeached for high crimes and misde-
meanors, and properly pronounced guilty thereof
By the votes of thirty-five senators”; but it is still
a question whether the party generally felt more
regret or relief at the failure of the impeachment.
—The national convention at Chicago, May 20,
1868, fully approved the reconstruction policy of
congress; declared that the public faith should
be kept as to the national debt, not only accord-
ing to the letter, but according to the spirit of
the laws by which it was contracted, but that
the rate of interest should be reduced whenever
it could be done honestly ; and condemned the
acts of President Johnson in detail. Nothing
was said of the tariff. For president, Grant was
unanimously nominated on the first ballot. For
vice-president, the struggle was mainly between
Wade, Colfax, Wilson, and Fenton of New York.
On the first ballot, Wade had 149 votes, Fenton
132, Wilson 119, Colfax 118, and all others 132.
On the fifth ballot, Colfax had 224 votes, Wade
196, Fenton 137, Wilson 61, and all others 32.
So many votes were then changed to Colfax that
he had 541 to 109 for all others, and was nomi-
nated. The candidates were elected without
'special difficulty. (See ELECTORAL Votes, XXI.)
—III.:1869–83. With Grant's election the party
may at last be considered homogeneous and self.
existent, with no trace of borrowed traditions.
Distinctions within the party, arising from former
political affiliations, had disappeared. Those who
still felt their influence, like Seward, Chase,
Welles, Trumbull and Doolittle, had generally
dropped out during the reconstruction and im-
peachment struggles; and a new generation, not
Only of Voters, but of leaders, had arisen, who
knew only the tenets of the party, and were not
embarrassed by former whig, democratic, 'free-
Soil or know-nothing bias. Among these new
men were Morton, Blaine, Garfield, Conkling,
Sherman, Schurz, Edmunds of Vermont, Dawes
and Hoar of Massachusetts, Morgan of New York,
Frelinghuysen of New Jersey, Kelley of Penn-
sylvania, Bingham, Shellabarger, Ashley and
Schenck of Ohio, Chandler and Ferry of Michi-
gan, Carpenter of Wisconsin, and Yates and
Washburne of Illinois. These, and a host of
others, while they had practically ousted the
Original leaders, retained the peculiar combination
of whig principles and democratic methods which
had resulted from the original amalgamation, and
were now to show whether they could make the
party a popular broad-construction party in inter-
nal administration, as well as in the suppression
of slavery. — The first problem which they were
to meet was the condition of the southern states.
The grant of the right of suffrage to the recently
enfranchised negroes had been completed by the .
process of reconstruction. If it was to be main-
tained, it must be by the vigor of the negroes them-
selves in defending it, by federal support to the re-
constructed State governments in defending it, or
by a constitutional amendment authorizing negroes
to defend it. The first method was impracticable;
if it had been otherwise, it would itself have been a
full vindication of the educating influences of the
system of slavery. The second method was adopt-
ed by legislation and executive action (see INSUR-
RECTION, II.; Ku-Klux Klan); and the third by
the passage of the 15th amendment. (See CON-
STITUTION, III., A.) In both these methods the
party was practically unanimous at first; but, as
the difficulties of their execution increased, those
who still retained anything of former party bias
were the first to grow weary of them. In addi-
tion to this, there was very much of the natural
repugnance to the control of the party machinery
by new leaders. The result was the “liberal re-
publican bolt” of 1870–72 (see LIBERAL REPUBLI-
CAN PARTY), in which the singular spectacle was
presented of the party contending against an Op-
position led by the two great towers of its strength
in 1854–5, Sumner and Greeley. Indeed, the con-
test may almost be described as one between the
mass of the party, under its new leaders, and the
remnants of those who had entered the party from
former organizations; and the result was decisive
of the party’s integral consolidation. — The na-
tional convention met at Philadelphia, June 5,
602
REPUBLICAN PARTY.
1872. Its platform reviewed the past achieve."
ments of the party; demanded the maintenance
of “complete liberty and exact equality in the
enjoyment of all civil, political and public rights
throughout the Union”; commended congress and
the president for their suppression of ku-klux
disorders; and promised to adjust the tariff duties
so as “to aid in securing remunerative wages to
labor, and promote the growth, industries and
prosperity of the whole country.” This latter
paragraph was the first official announcement of
protectionist doctrines since 1860, but its place
had always been effectually filled by the resolu-
tions of state conventions, and by the consistent
policy of the party in congress. For president,
Grant was renominated by acclamation. For
vice-president, Wilson was nominated by 36.4%
votes to 32.1% for Colfax. The candidates were
elected with even less difficulty than in 1868.
(See ELECTORAL WOTEs, XXII.) – Nevertheless,
there was still considerable dissatisfaction in the
party. The close of Grant's first term and the
beginning of his second were marked by a suc-
cession of public scandals, arising mainly from
his own inexperience in civil administration and
the derelictions of many of his appointees. (See
CREDIT MOBILIER ; LOUISIANA ; CAPITAL, NA-
TIONAL; SUMNER, CELARLES; WHISKY RING; IM-
PEACHMENTS, VII.) The consequent dissatisfac-
tion was shown by a general defeat of the party
in the state and congressional elections of 1874–5.
(See DEMOCRATIC PARTY, WI.) It was checked,
however, immediately, and the check has often
been ascribed to the political skill of the leaders
in “waving the bloody shirt,” that is, in stimu-
lating a desire for the formation of a solid north
to counterbalance the solid south formed by the
violent suppression of the colored vote. But a
more rational commendation of their political
skill may be found in the manner in which they
committed their party to the payment of the pub-
lic debt in coin. The issue of legal-tender paper
money had been a republican war measure, but
the idea had since grown up that at least a part
of the public debt should be paid in paper money.
(See GREENBACK-LABOR PARTY.) In most of the
western states this idea had completely gained con-
trol of the democratic party; it had made a smaller,
but very considerable, progress in the republican
party; and many of the subordinate republican
politicians were inclined to look upon it as inevit-
able, and yield to it. So prominent a leader as
Morton publicly yielded, and fathered the “rag-
baby,” as the paper money idea was popularly
called. To disown that which seemed at first
sight their own progeny, to hazard the party's
Supremacy in its original habitat, the northwest,
certainly required no small amount of political
foresight, nerve and skill in the republican lead-
ers. Ohio was made the battle ground (see that
state), and the gauntlet was thrown down in 1875.
Success there was followed by the nomination of
the successful candidate for president in 1876, and
the committal of the party to specie resumption in
1879. A conflict of this nature did more to bring
back the liberals of 1872, and the dissatisfied vo-
ters of 1874, than even the “bloody shirt" could
do in repelling them. — The national convention
met at Cincinnati, June 14, 1876. The platform
differed from that of 1872 mainly in its stronger
indorsement of civil service reform; in its demand
for “a continuous and steady progress to specie
payments”; in its denunciation of polygamy in
the territories, of “a united south,” and of the
democratic party in general; and in its declaration
in favor of “the immediate and vigorous exercise
of all the constitutional powers of the president
and congress for removing any just causes of dis-
content on the part of any class, and for Securing
to every American citizen complete liberty and
exact equality.” Much apprehension had been
expressed as to President Grant’s supposed inten-
tion to use the party machinery to compass his
own nomination for a third term, but when the
convention met he was not a candidate. The
leading candidates were Conkling and Morton,
representing the adherents of the administration;
Bristow, representing the opposition to the admin-
istration; and Blaine, with a positive strength
of his own, independent of all southern ques-
tions. On the first ballot, Blaine had 285 votes,
Morton 124, Bristow 113, Conkling 99, Hayes 61,
and all others 72. On the sixth ballot, Blaine
had 308 votes, Hayes 113, Bristow 111, Morton
85, Conkling 81, and all others 56. On the Seventh
ballot, there was a general break. Of Bristow's.
votes, 21 adhered to him ; Blaine's vote rose to
351; the adherents of all the other candidates
transferred their votes to Hayes, and he was
nominated by 384 votes out of 756. For vice-
president, Wheeler had hardly any opposition.
The candidates were elected, but only after a.
struggle which is elsewhere detailed. (See DIS-
PUTED ELECTIONs, IV. ; ELECTORAL COMMISSION:
IELECTORAL WOTEs, XXIII.) — The discovery of
the “ cipher telegrams” (see TILDEN, S. J.) helped
very materially to reconcile the party to the irreg-
ularities of the election of 1876. Nevertheless,
the new president was left with very little party
support until the extra session of 1879. (See
HAYES, R. B.; RIDERs.) During this administra-
tion, for the first time in the party’s history, the
leaders failed to control its representatives in Con-
gress. Resumption of specie payments had been
fixed for Jan. 1, 1879. But, since 1870, silver had
been steadily falling, in relative value to gold,
throughout the civilized world. The act of Feb.
12, 1873, had demonetized silver, and had made
gold the only specie of the country, except for
subsidiary coinage. The public debt would thus
have been payable in gold alone. The idea at
once spread that this action was a fraudulent ef-
fort to pay bondholders more than they were enti-
tled to by law. Both of the great parties yielded
to the storm. After several unsuccessful efforts,
the Bland bill, to make the silver dollar (then
worth about 92 cents) a legal tender for public and
private debts, and to direct its coinage at the
REPUDIATION.
603.
rate of not less than $2,000,000, nor more than
$4,000,000, per month, passed both houses. It
was vetoed, and passed over the veto by heavy
majorities, Feb. 28, 1878. In both houses the
leaders of the party voted in the negative, but the
mass were either absent or in the affirmative. —
The national convention met at Chicago, June
10, 1880. As Grant had been out of Office for
four years, his nomination was now considered
unexceptionable by many, and a plurality of
the delegates came to the convention pledged
to vote for him. (See NOMINATING CONVEN-
TIONS.) Blaine was next to him in strength,
and Sherman, the secretary of the treasury,
next. On the first ballot, Grant had 304 votes,
Blaine 284, Sherman 93, Edmunds 34, Wash-
burne of Illinois 30, and Windom of Minnesota
10. For thirty-five ballots this proportionate vote
was hardly changed, except that on the thirty-
fifth ballot, Grant’s vote rose to 313, and Blaine's
fell to 257, Garfield, a Sherman delegate from
Ohio, had been steadily voted for by one or
two delegates, since the second ballot. On the
thirty-fourth ballot the Wisconsin delegation,
against his protest, gave him 17 votes; on the
thirty-fifth his vote rose to 50; and on the thir-
ty-sixth, by a sudden stampede of all the anti-
Grant elements, he was nominated by a vote of
399, to 307 for Grant, 42 for Blaine, 5 for Wash-
burne, and 3 for Sherman. Arthur, to placate the
Grant delegates, was nominated for vice-president
on the first ballot, by 468 votes, to 193 for Wash-
burne, and 90 for all others. — The result of the
election seems to show a very considerable party
advantage in a policy of devotion to economic
principles. In 1876, after eight years of a vigor-
ous repressive policy in Southern disorders, the
republican candidates were only successful by a
single electoral vote, and the honesty of the suc-
cess was denied by the whole opposition party.
In 1880, after four years of simple endeavor to
settle the economic problems which pressed for
settlement, the party’s candidates were elected be-
yond cavil, by 214 electoral votes to 155. And,
further, a forged letter (the so-called Morey let-
ter) appeared just before the election, purport-
ing to come from Garfield, and advising the en-
couragement of Chinese immigration in order
to bring American servants and mechanics to
a more manageable condition. This forgery un-
doubtedly cost Garfield the five votes of Cali-
fornia, the three votes of Nevada, and probably
the nine votes of New Jersey. Without it, the
result would have been 231 to 135, and the par-
ty would have had the entire northern and west-
ern vote, for the first time in its history. It is
also noteworthy that the prospects of possible
republican success in southern states, without
federal coercion, date wholly from Hayes’ admin-
istration. (See TENNESSEE, VIRGINIA, NORTH
CAROLINA.) — Before and after President Gar-
field’s assassination, (see GARFIELD, J. A.), the
terms “stalwart ’’ and “anti-stalwart " came into
Common use. They can hardly be considered as
designations of the Grant and anti-Grant factions,
respectively, for one of the anti-Grant leaders.
claims the parentage of the term stalwart in poli-
tics; nor as representing the friends and oppo-
nents of the abandoned policy of repression in
southern affairs. If a conjecture may be haz-
arded, the stalwarts represent the leaders of
the party organization, as it stands in 1882, who
have reached that position during the policy of
repression, though they do not propose to at-
tempt it any longer; and the anti-stalwarts, the
coming leaders who will succeed gradually and
naturally to the party leadership on altogether
economic grounds. Neither name as yet indi-
cates any disintegration in the party. It is,
therefore, very proper to give the present, and
probably permanent, basis of the party's exist-
ence. It is nowhere stated so clearly as in the
second and fifth sections of the platform of 1880,
as follows: ‘‘2, The Constitution of the United
States is a supreme law, and not a mere con-
tract. Out of confederated states it made a sov-
ereign nation. Some powers are denied the na-
tion, while others are denied the states; but the
boundary between powers delegated and those re-
served is to be determined by the national and
not the state tribunals.” “5. We reaffirm the
belief that the duties levied for the purpose of
revenue should so discriminate as to favor Amer-
ican labor; that no further grant of the public
domain should be made to any railroad or other
corporation; that, slavery having perished in the
states, its twin barbarity, polygamy, must die in
the territories; that everywhere the protection ac-
Corded to a citizen of American birth must be
secured to citizens by American adoption ; that
we esteem it the duty of congress to develop and
improve our watercourses and harbors, but insist.
that further subsidies to private persons or corpo-
rations must cease.” With a programme of this.
nature, developed as further occasion may require,
there seems to be no reason to anticipate that dis-
solution of the party which was so confidently
predicted in 1874. — Authorities will generally be
found under the articles referred to. See also, 2.
Wilson's Rise and Fall of the Slave Power, 406; 1
Greeley’s American Conflict, 246; McClellan's Re-
publicanism in America (to 1869); Giddings’ His-
tory of the Rebellion, 382; Smalley’s History of the
Republican Party (to 1882); Johnston’s History of
American Politics, 162; Tribune Alma/mac, 1855–83;
Greeley’s Political Teat Book of 1860; McPherson's
Political History of the Rebellion, and Political
Manuals; Moore's Rebellion. Record, Schuckers’
Jife of Chase ; Raymond’s Life of Lincoln, and
other authorities under names referred to; Spof-
ford’s American Almanac, 1868–83; Appleton’s.
Annual Cyclopædia, 1861–83; The Nation, 1865–83;
and current newspapers.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
REPUDIATION. The history of the bonded
indebtedness of the various states of the Union.
goes back to the period 1830–40. At the begin-
604
|REPUDIATION.
ning of that decade the aggregate debt of the
states amounted to about $13,000,000 only. Then
began an era of extravagance, in which certain
states entered upon a series of reckless undertak-
ings that crippled the resources and ruined the
credit of more than one commonwealth, whose
name had formerly ranked high for commercial
prudence and honesty. Two causes united to
foster this spirit of prodigal expenditure: a natural
demand for necessary internal improvements; and
an easy means of raising large sums on long loans.
By the act of congress of June 13, 1836, the sur-
plus above $5,000,000 arising from the sale of
government lands was allowed to remain on de-
posit to the credit of, or loaned to, the different
states. In this way nearly $30,000,000 was put
out, in three installments, a fourth, after some
$28,000,000 had been paid, being postponed by the
act of October, 1847, because of a reduction in
revenue, owing to the requirement that land pay-
ments be made in specie and not in notes of the
state banks. The great incentive to incur a heavy
state debt, the demand for internal improvements,
sprang from a natural and healthy cause. The
annually increasing tide of immigration began to
pour over the vast and fertile areas of virgin soil,
in the development of which lay prosperity and
fortune. But as yet the means of communication
between the granaries of the west and northwest,
the rice and cotton plantations of the south and
southwest, and the markets of trade, were wholly
inadequate to meet the needs of the cultivators.
Rich in the natural products of the soil, money
was so scanty with them that, even for the pur-
poses of ordinary trade between themselves, they
had to resort to harter. To the active and indus-
trious farmer, or the keen and ambitious planter,
an opening to the markets of the world, by new
means of transportation which should insure quick
delivery on reasonable terms, meant individual
success and the commercial prosperity of his state.
Private ambition and public spirit were skillfully
played upon to induce voters to ratify with eager-
ness what doubtless seemed to many a public duty
as well as a private gain. Railways and canals
were begun, turnpikes constructed, river beds
widened and “improved,” and every scheme
which bore on its face the slightest resemblance to
a public work claimed the aid of the public credit,
and, in the absence of constitutional safeguards,
generally got what it claimed. Our national cred-
it abroad stood high. The affairs of government
had been economically administered, the interest
on our foreign commercial debt promptly paid,
and state securities found an easy sale in foreign
markets. Good credit, great natural advantages
of soil and climate, offering unmistakable prom-
ise of limitless development, and, above all, a pay
day far ahead in the dim future, with only the
interest account to provide for from time to time,
proved temptations too strong for the young and
growing communities. Within the twelve years
succeeding 1830 the aggregate debt of the states
had risen to over $200,000,000, an increment of
more than 1600 per cent . It was distributed as
follows : *
Eastern states----------------------------------- $ 7,158,274
Middle States ------------ '* = * * * * = * * * ------------- 73,348,072
Southern states --------------------------------- 73,340,017
Western states---------------------------------- 59,931,553
Total--------------------------------------- $213,777,916
— In May, 1838, after the passage of the general
banking law, authorizing the United States comp-
troller to issue bank notes on a pledge of the evi-
dences of public debt of the several states, a cir-
cular was issued by the comptroller, Mr. Flagg,
requesting the financial officer of each state to re-
turn its indebtedness under authorized loans. Ac-
cording to their replies, it appeared that even then
the aggregate debt, inclusive of the sums deposit-
ed with the several states by the United States
($28,101,644.97), amounted to $198,907,824.32.
This indebtedness had been incurred for the benefit
of railroads, canals, banks, turnpike Companies,
and kindred speculations. “The operations of
the states have been so extensive and varied,”
said Hunt’s “Merchants' Magazine,” in 1839 (vol.
i., p. 174), “that it is not an easy matter to get at
the precise amount of stock issued and authorized
to be issued. It is probable, however, that the
aggregate amount of stock authorized by all the
states is even greater than the amount stated in
the tables.”—By 1836 the state of Indiana had
already loaned a large portion of the surplus rev-
enue derived from the United States, and in that
year an act was passed appropriating the sum of
$10,000,000 for a gigantic internal improvement
scheme, covering no less than seven different en-
terprises, including canals, banks and railways.
When we find that there were only 100,000 voters
in the state at this time, the outlay, even if kept
within the proposed limit, seems stupendous. Yet
the expenditure was far beyond the expectations
of the promoters. “The original plan of internal
improvement was, as a matter of course, consider-
ably extended, and it very soon became evident
that $20,000,000 would not more than half suffice
to complete any portion, in consequence of the
necessity of spending all the money that could be
got in all parts of the state at once. The nego-
tiation of the bonds was also a source of most
fearful jobbing which resulted in serious losses to
the state.” (“Merchants’ Magazine,” 1847, p.
577.) One of the bond commissioners, a Dr. Coe,
was also one of the largest stockholders in the
Morris Canal bank, the heaviest customer for the
state bonds. According to the report of a legis-
lative investigating committee, Dr. Coe received'
from his own company over $100,000 in commis-
sions and profits; one item of which was 398
bonds, received by the company at par, when
they were worth about fifteen cents on the dollar
—a difference of about $33,680 ! Within a very
# It is impossible to state with accuracy the exact amount
of the debt during this period. The table given is taken from
an article by Robert P. Porter, “International Review,”
1880, p. 556. Compared with other statements, the figures
seem by no means exaggerated.
REPUDIATION.
605
short time the pressure began to be felt. Depres-
sion in foreign commercial centres caused a tight-
ness of the money market all over the world. By
1841 Indiana found herself without the means of
defraying the running expenses of government.
The money for the civil list had to be raised, and
the state was again forced to go upon the market
as a borrower, pledging her bonds at ruinously
low rates. “The majority of the 100,000 voters
then occupying Indiana,” says a writer, six years
later, “were small farmers living in log huts, de-
pending on the sale of surplus pork and grain for
the purchase of their necessaries; and the expec-
tation of drawing $1,000,000 per annum from
such sources, to pay the interest or principal of
debts contracted for legislative purposes, was not
realized. The capital employed in trade in In-
diana was scarcely $3,000,000, and it was proposed
to draw 50 per cent. of that every year to pay in-
terest!” In 1841 the interest account fell behind,
and an attempt was made to settle by an issue of
7 per cent. five-year bonds, but these the creditors,
who had already begun to distrust the state's
pledges, refused to accept in exchange for their
interest coupons, to any appreciable amount. The
distress spread so that it seemed to affect every de-
partment of government. The assessment for tax
purposes was wretchedly conducted on a wholly
erroneous system of valuation, until finally the
people became convinced that the taxes could not
be paid. From this to hopeless and acknowledged
insolvency the plunge was rapid. In June, 1839,
the tax of thirty cents, levied in 1838 to meet the
internal improvement interest, was reduced to fif-
teen cents, and by 1840, after various fruitless at-
tempts at settlement and compromise, all effort to
pay the state interest had been abandoned.— Ohio
began her borrowing in 1825, by pledging all the
canal profits as security for loans authorized for
the benefit of internal improvement schemes.
Under the law of 1836–7 she had gone on increas-
ing her expenditures, loaning the state credit to
turnpike and other companies, subscribing for
their stock and running into debt with contract-
ors. Her credit fell, and yet it was impossible
either to go ahead or to give up the work without
money. In 1841 the legislature passed an appro-
priation bill of $2,301,625. The commissioners
of the canal fund were authorized to raise $981,000
of this amount, with which to meet the demands
of the contractors, at any rate of interest, and the
remainder on 6 per cent. bonds, payable in 1860.
The bankers of London and New York would
not touch the loan, and it was finally proposed, at
an extra session of the legislature convened for
the purpose, to raise the rate of interest to 10 per
cent. and go into the foreign market on the best pro-
curable terms / Under this provision the state was
squeezed like a sponge. Fortunately her immense
resources proved equal to the terrible strain. The
people were honest, the Sophisms of repudiation
gained little ground, and the legislature by vari-
ous enactments provided for the interest and a
sinking fund with which to meet the principal. —
Even the eastern states were affected by the uni-
versal mania for reckless expenditure which Ob-
tained throughout the country during the years
1834–6. Massachusetts pledged her credit with-
out taking care to provide sure means of payment,
and found herself in 1847 with over $6,000,000
Outstanding indebtedness on loans and subscrip-
tions to railroads alone. The enterprises proved
successful, however, and she was never heavily
pressed to make good her guarantee. — Maine, a
lumber and fishing state, with a soil for the most
part unadapted to raising grain, acting upon an
absurd theory of encouragement to home pro-
ducers, actually went into debt at the rate of $3
per head of her population, to pay bounties for
the cultivation of wheat and corn, and distrib-
uted in one year over $150,000 in premiums on
the production of less than three million bush-
els of grain l— By 1840 the state debt of Penn-
sylvania had increased to $31,000,000, about
$30,000,000 of which had been assumed in be-
half of railroads and canals. Within two years
the bank of Pennsylvania went down with a
crash that echoed throughout the commercial
world, and in August of that year the state failed
to pay its interest. So bitter was the feeling abroad
against the people of the defaulting common-
wealth, that the Rev. Sydney Smith declared he
felt inclined, if he met a Pennsylvanian at din-
ner, to strip him of his clothes and boots for divis-
ion among the guests, most of whom had prob-
ably suffered by his state's dishonor — It was
during this period that the word “repudiation,”
in its present commercial and political significa-
tion, came into use. There was a default in the
interest on the bonds which the state of Missis-
sippi had issued in aid of the Union bank, and
after the authorities had in vain cast about for
various expedients to meet the difficulty, the gov-
ernor of the state, in a message to the legislature,
broached the now familiar doctrine of repudia-
tion, and suggested, in undisguised terms, his
state's dishonor. “The bank,” he declared, “ has
hypothecated these bonds, and borrowed money
upon them of the Baron Rothschild; the blood of
Judas and Shylock flows in his veins, and he
unites the qualities of both his countrymen. He
has mortgages upon the silver mines of Mexico and
the quicksilver mines of Spain. He has advanced
money to the sublime porte and taken as security
a mortgage upon the holy city of Jerusalem and
the sepulchre of our Saviour. It is for this peo-
ple to say whether he shall have a mortgage
upon our cotton fields and make serfs of our chil-
dren’’ To the honor of the state legislature, be
it said, they rejected, with scornful emphasis, the
disgraceful suggestion, and declared that the gov-
ernor's insinuation that Mississippi would violate
her solemn pledge was “a calumny upon the jus-
tice, honor and dignity of the state.” Subsequent
Mississippi legislatures show no traces of the hon-
est spirit of this session. Post bellum repudiators
have no more shameless example of flagrant dis-
honesty than that afforded by the successors of
606
REPUDIATION.
the very men who, thirty years before, declared
that the mere Suggestion of repudiation was an
insult to the State (vide infra). — One after anoth-
er the spendthrift commonwealths felt the pinch
of want, and when the public debt became, from
the taxation which it necessitated, a private bur-
den, repudiation followed as a matter of course.
Numerous plans for compromise were canvassed;
legislative committees were appointed, bills re-
ported and conferences held with the representa-
tives of the bondholders at home and abroad,
but from year to year the bankrupt states drifted
along, plunging, at intervals, more and more
hopelessly in debt. Finally, the civil war swept
away for the time all vitality from the bond ques-
tion as an issue. Its revival as a political ques-
tion, and its historical development in certain
communities, where it divided parties and became
the most potent factor in state politics, is given
under the headings of the different states below.
— Georgia. Under the rule of the “carpet-bag-
gers” the state was plunged into debt for all sorts
of alleged public improvements. When the “con-
servatives,” as the democrats were fond of pro-
claiming themselves, regained control, they at
once set to work to devise pretexts for avoiding
the obligations by which the state had been bur-
dened by their opponents. A committee appointed
by the first legislature at which the conservatives
found themselves in the majority, reported in fa-
vor of invalidating, on the ground of fraud at
their issue, six million of state bonds. The sug-
gestion was at once acted upon, and the securities
promptly repudiated. A constitutional amend-
ment was then adopted, wiping out the bonds
altogether. At the constitutional convention the
bondholders offered to submit their claims for
adjudication to thc Supremc court of the state,
but the proposition was rejected by an overwhelm-
ing vote at the May election of 1877. To provide
against any possible qualms of conscience on the
part of succeeding legislators, a clause was in-
serted in the new constitution (sec. 11) prohibit-
ing the general assembly from making any appro-
priation to meet interest or principal on the dis-
honored securities, with which were included all
the war debts of the state. A sweeping majority
carried this amendment at the election of Decem-
ber, 1877. The act of Feb. 25, 1874, had already
deprived the governor of the power to lend the
credit of the state by indorsement, except where
the right to such had already vested. Soon after
the passage of the repudiating amendments (in
January, 1878), Gov. Colquitt was applied to for
his official indorsement upon the debentures of
the Northeastern railroad. After consulting the
most eminent legal authorities in the state, who
advised him that the right to such guarantee had
vested in the company before the passage of the
repealing act, he granted the application of the
railroad authorities and indorsed their bonds to
the amount of $260,000. His act caused wide-
spread complaints, which his political opponents
took pains to fan into a burst of popular in-
dignation, by representing that he had willfully
transcended his authority, and deliberately nulli-
fied the will of the people in favor of the corpo-
ration. He at once demanded a legislative in.
vestigation, and a committee, which examined
the question with great care, reported in the only
way that it was possible for them to conclude,
that the governor had no option in the matter, but
had simply done what he was legally bound to
do. Much the same treatment was given to the
$3,000,000 of bonds of the Brunswick & Albany
railroad company, guaranteed by the state before
the war, and disposed of mainly to Capitalists at
the north. The secession convention had granted
immunity from confiscation to all public works.
But in spite of this the road was seized upon as
the property of alien foes. After the war the
owners came forward to claim their property, and
a compromise was effected upon their agreeing
to complete the road, in return for which the
state was to pay a subsidy of $15,000 per mile.
This compromise was ratified by a democratic
legislature in 1869; yet in 1871 Gov. Bullock took
possession of the road, though the state had failed
to pay the subsidy, claiming that the agreement
had not been fulfilled by the owners. Henry
Clews, Esq., of New York, who represented a
majority of the bondholders, sold the bonds to
German bankers at Frankfort-on-the-Main. In
August, 1872, the general assembly declared these
bonds null and void, and a constitutional amend.
ment forbidding the payment of either principal
or interest was carried in 1874. — Louisiana. At
the constitutional convention of 1879 a committee
appointed to examine and report upon the bond
question, recommended the acknowledgment of
about $4,000,000 of these securities and the repu.
diation of nearly $20,000,000. The report declared
that it was a matter of history that the state house
had been seized by United States soldiers in De-
cember and January, 1872–3, and the legal legis-
lature overthrown. That, therefore, the body of
men alleged to have passed the funding act of
1874 was not a constitutional legislature, and had
no power to bind a free people. That there was .
no evidence on file of any ratification of the so-
called amendments of 1874, except the mutilated
copy of what purported to be a certificate to that
effect, signed by J. Madison Wells and others.
“They are unable to concede,” reported the com-
mittee, “that the funding of any portion of the
debt has given it any greater validity than it
originally possessed, and, on the other hand, they
do not admit that the absolute repudiation of 40
per cent. of the debt detracts in the least from the
validity of that which was honest and legal.”
The report concludes by a reference to the fact
that the bondholders are mainly northern Capital-
ists, and dismisses their claims in these remarka-
ble words: “But may it not be in the order of
the eternal fitness of things that those who direct-
ly or indirectly (unwittingly, it may be) aided to
tear down the basis of our former prosperity,
should share some of the ills that have so long
REPUDIATION.
607
and so powerfully borne down upon the once
proud and wealthy people of Louisiana?” A
minority report, protesting against the attempt to
dishonor the state, was vainly offered, to stem the
rising and angry tide of repudiation. “Every
sentiment of honor and justice,” said this paper,
‘‘ demands that he who receives what does not
belong to him should restore it. If the bonds are
void, the state has received something for nothing.
Law and justice concur in the enforcement of the
duty on the part of the state to surrender that
35
something to its true owner.” This report declared
that the state had received in cash $6,893,507.31 for
securities funded at $7,294,744, all but $500,000
of which was to be wiped out. The wanton bad
faith of the legislators who agreed to the majority
report, is the more strongly emphasized by a ref-
erence to the opinion of the Supreme court of the
state, delivered only a few months before : “We
regard the faith of the state as irrevocably pledged
to the payment of her consolidated bonds issued
under the authority of that act (the funding act
of 1874). * * The contract with the holders
of these bonds is one which, in the language of
the constitutional amendment, the state can by no
means and in no wise impair.” This act, the
court held, was approved Jan. 24, 1874, and settled
beyond possibility of question by a constitutional
amendment upon the same day : “This amend-
ment has become a part of the constitution by its
subsequent ratification at the polls.” (State ea rel.
Pacific R. R. Co. vs. Nichols, Governor, 30 La.
Ann. Rep., 980.) A reiteration of what the court
had already declared in 1875, when it said: “This
amendment was adopted, and it now forms part
of the organic law of the state.” (State ea rel.
Forstall vs. Board of Liquidation, 27 La. Ann.
Rep., 577.) Moreover, the declarations of the re-
pudiating committee regarding the condition of
the state's resources and its inability to meet its
honest debts are flatly contradicted by the words
of the governor in his message of 1881 : “The
outlook for the state is most hopeful. The ad.
vantages of soil and climate are nowhere else
equaled. * * The future for Louisiana is a
grand one. It does not seem chimerical, when
we look at our extraordinary advantages, to antici-
pate a future maximum production of $500,000,000
per annum. There is no reason for the continued
cry of “Poor Louisiana and her impoverished peo-
ple.” We must realize the fact that she is rich,
and force her to the front rank of states. * *
Confidence will be restored; our bonds will be on
the market at a reasonable interest, commanding
a premium; capital will readily find its way here;
and we will no longer be humiliated at the low
credit of our state.” Both reports were support-
ed with vigor, but the repudiating element was
too strong to be successfully combated, and after
a hot debate an act, known as the debt ordinance,
was adopted for submission to popular vote. This
ordinance provided for retiring the bonds in ex-
change for a new issue, upon which the interest
was Scaled to 2 per cent. for five years, 3 per cent.
for fifteen years, and 4 per cent. thereafter; with
an option to the holders to exchange their bonds
at seventy-five cents on the dollar for 4 per cent.
Semi-annual interest bonds. The consolidated
bonds issued under the act of 1874, to be retired
by this forced exchange, were pledged to pay 7
per cent. interest! The act was simply highway
robbery by legislative sanction. The constitu-
tionality of the debt ordinance was at once put to
the test in two actions brought by John Elliott
and others against the board of liquidation. The
first was to enjoin the board from recognizing the
Ordinance and disregarding the funding act of
1874 and the constitutional enactment of the same
year; the other, to compel by mandamus the pay-
ment of the interest on the consolidated bonds,
and the levy and collection of a tax for that pur-
pose. The recent decision (March, 1883) of the
United States Supreme court, upon the points at
issue, held that the state had entered upon a vol-
untary contract in 1874, which had been violated
by the act of 1880. But that there were no means
of compelling the state's officers to carry out this
contract, for the reason that the state as a sover-
eign commonwealth could not be sued without its
permission. Upon this point the opinion of Chief
Justice Waite reads as follows: “Neither was
there when the bonds were issued, nor is there
now, any statute or judicial decision giving the
bondholders a remedy in the state courts or else-
where, either by mandamus or injunction against
the state in its political capacity, to compel it to
do what it has agreed should be done, but what it
refuses to do.” A proceeding suggested by a cor-
respondent of the “New York Nation,” in Feb-
ruary, 1878, (No. 660), was the last effort made to
coerce the defaulting commonwealth. Before the
adoption of the 11th amendment to the constitu-
tion of the United States, the supreme court had
rejected the doctrine that a state could not be sued
upon its own contracts. In the case of Chisholm
vs. State of Georgia, 2 Dall., decided in 1792,
Chief Justice Jay said: “It would be strange in-
deed that the joint and equal sovereigns of this
country should in the very constitution by which
they professed to ‘establish justice’ so far devi-
ate from the plain path of equality and impar-
tiality as to give to the collective citizens of
one state a right of suing individual citizens of
another state, and yet deny to those citizens a
right of suing them.” To nullify the principle
which this decision established, the 11th amend-
ment was passed in 1794, declaring that “The ju-
dicial power of the United States shall not be con-
strued to extend to any suit in law or equity com-
menced or prosecuted against one of the United
States by citizens of another state or by citizens or
subjects of any foreign state.” To avoid this con-
stitutional bar the legislatures of New York and
New Hampshire authorized the transfer to them
by their citizens of the defaulted securities, and
actions were then begun in the name of each of
these states against the state of Louisiana. The
supreme court, however, held that to allow such
608
REPUDIATION.
suits would be simply to permit the practice of a
palpable absurdity, and the evasion of the 11th
amendment. In other words, the court very prop-
erly refused to countenance a mere subterfuge by
which private individuals, the real parties in in-
terest, might dodge a plain provision of the fed-
eral constitution, and practically sue a Sovereign
state. Such is the history of the vain attempts to
induce the state of Louisiana to keep its Solemn
pledges. That public dishonor entails a loss of
private credit may be inferred from what follows;
the words are those of a writer treating of the
financial condition of the state in 1882. “The un-
settled condition of the finances of the state for
several years past has seriously impaired her
growth and prosperity, causing a universal dis-
trust which has not merely affected the credit and
honor of the commonwealth, but has also, to a
great extent, affected injuriously individual credit,
prevented investment of foreign capital, and ex-
cluded immigration.” (Ann. Cyc., 1882, p. 480.)
— Minnesota. A legislative committee in 1876 at-
tempted to show that the state was under no ob-
ligation, legal or moral, to pay the railroad bonds
guaranteed by her in 1858. Public opinion, how-
ever, was opposed to wholesale repudiation. In
his message to the legislature, Gov. Pillsbury,
after referring to various decisions upon the bond
question in the courts of the state and of the
United States, said: “With such unmistakable
and imperative commands from the voice of law
and equity and honesty, is the question not re-
duced to the simple one of our willingness to pay
our honest debts?” There was at this time over
two and a quarter millions of Outstanding indebt-
edness of the $5,000,000 bonds issued in aid of
certain railroads, the validity of which was dis-
puted on thc ground that the railroads had failed
to comply with the conditions of the issue. The
amendment of 1858, under which the issue was
made, had been wiped out by another amend-
ment in 1860; which also declared that the legis-
lature should make no provision for payment of
the principal or interest without submitting the
proposition to the people for ratification. A com-
promise proposed in 1871, and agreed to by the
legislature, was rejected by a vote of 21,499 to
9,293, not half the average vote being cast. The
“Grangers,” or “Patrons of Husbandry,” had
taken up the bond issue, and protested against
their acknowledgment by the state, threatening to
“scratch” all candidates for judicial office who
would not pledge themselves against the validity
of the bonds.
testified before a senate committee of the United
States that his notion was to elect judges pledged
to “wipe out the bonds.” When asked what he
would do if the supreme court of the United
States sustained their validity, he replied, “Wipe
out the supreme court” In pursuance of Gov.
Pillsbury's suggestion the legislature, on March
1, 1877, created a board of commissioners of the
public debt, and authorized the issue of new bonds
to holders of defaulted securities on terms of Com-
One representative of grangerism
promise. The act was subject to amendment, to
be submitted to popular vote. It provided for the
sale of a portion of the “internal improvement
lands” in aid of the proposed settlement. The
amendment and the compromise depending upon
it were rejected by a large popular majority.
Again the governor, with commendable spirit, de-
clared that although the result “indicates that
they are not prepared to make settlement of this
vexed question, my convictions as heretofore ex-
pressed upon this subject have undergone no
change, and I earnestly hope that in the near fu-
ture the people of our state will take a different
view of the matter.” By this time the repudiators
had secured a firm grip upon the politics of the
state. The national greenback-labor party, at a.
convention held June 10, 1879, after declaring in
favor of the unrestricted coinage of silver, and
the immediate repeal of the resumption act, “be-
lieving that its passage at the time was an in-
famous sin and crime against the debtor classes,”
made the following declaration in regard to the
state debt: “We regard the old Minnesota rail-
road bonds as dishonest and illegal in their whole
origin and history; a measure conceived in sin
and brought forth in iniquity, and one that is not
morally binding on the people of this state.” Once
more, in 1880, the governor urged settlement, in-
sisting that it was possible without commercial
distress. “The discharge of this debt,” said he,
“is demanded as a simple act of justice, which
would be none the less imperative were it to in-
volve serious sacrifices. But these are not re-
quired. The task is plain and easy, and level to
the simplest comprehension. The exhibit of the
state auditor shows that with a wise use of the
internal improvement lands (which cost the state
nothing, being a grant from congress) this can be
accomplished at the present rate of taxation, with-
out any increase of taxation.” For the fifth time
an attempt at settlement was made. An act was
passed providing for the submission of certain
questions to the supreme court of the state. The
court pronounced the act void, but declared, at
the same time, the invalidity of the constitutional
amendment of 1860, on the ground that it im-
paired the validity of the contract made with the
bondholders of 1858. This left the responsibility
upon the legislature to act without appealing for
ratification to the popular vote. An extra session
was at once convened, which passed an act in ac-
cordance with the governor's suggestion. Under
this act the bonds were scaled at 50 per cent. Of
their nominal value, with accrued interest, and ex-
changed for thirty-year 4% per cent. “adjustment
bonds.” By the end of 1881, almost all the old
bonds had been taken up. The people, at the
general election of 1882, approved the proposition
to apply a portion of the proceeds of the internal
improvement lands sale to the bond sinking fund.
These lands are said to be so valuable that only
about $1,250,000 will have to be provided for by
taxation. — Mississippi. In 1875, $7,000,000 of
“ Union” and other bonds, issued before the war,
REPUDIATION.
609
were outstanding. No interest had been paid since
1842 (vide ante). The state made short work of
the bondholders’ rights. A republican legislature
adopted and submitted an amendment, which was
subsequently engrafted upon the constitution by
a democratic legislature, and which read as fol-
lows: “Nor shall the state assume, redeem, secure
or pay any indebtedness or pretended indebted-
ness claimed to be due by the state of Mississippi
to any person, association or corporation whatso-
ever, claiming the same as owners, holders or as-
signees of any bond or bonds now generally known
as Union railroad bonds or Planters bank bonds.”
— Tennessee. At the close of the war the bonded
indebtedness of the state amounted to about
$43,000,000, which was subsequently reduced by
sales of railroad property to about $23,000,000.
Upon this amount the state found itself, in 1875,
greatly in arrears for interest, and without provi-
sion for meeting the principal on those bonds
which were already beginning to fall due. The
heaviest creditors of the state proposed to the
governor that he should suggest to the legislature
the propriety of appointing commissioners to agree
with them upon terms of settlement. In accord-
ance with the governor's suggestion, a committee
of five was appointed from the legislature, which,
with five New York bankers, made up an arbitra-
tion board. A meeting held at the clearing house
in New York, “to consider the embarrassment of
the several southern states which are in default,
and to devise a plan for the readjustment of their
debts,” appointed, as arbitrators on the part of
the bondholders, Messrs. Geo. S. Coe, Jacob D.
Vermilye, B. B. Sherman, B. B. Comegys, and
Enoch Pratt. At the conference with the com-
mittee from the Tennessee legislature, the latter
took pains to disclaim any power beyond that of
conferring with the bondholders’ representatives,
and reporting such compromise as might be agreed
upon to their legislature for ratification. The
Settlement adopted for recommendation was as
follows: The debt, with arrears of interest to Jan.
1, 1877, should be readjusted at 60 per cent., and
Settled by a new issue of 6 per cent. bonds. In
the meantime, on May 17, 1876, in response to an
urgent appeal from Ex-Gov. Brownlow, the re-
publican state convention at Nashville had passed
resolutions denouncing repudiation in every form.
The democrats, however, fought shy of the ques-
tion, for the repudiators had already won some
of their followers by urging the doctrine that the
abolition of slavery amounted to a destruction
of taxable property for which those who were
responsible—meaning thereby the bondholders at
the north—should suffer the loss. It was remarked
at the time that this argument “wholly ignored
the continued existence of the negroes and their
production as making part of the resources of the
state.” (N.Y. “Nation,” 1877, No. 636.) On Dec.
5, 1877, a special session was convened to consider
the award of the arbitrators. A bill finally passed
the Senate, providing for an adjustment scheme
by which the old bonds were retired at 40 per
158 VOL III. — 39
cent. of their face value, in exchange for thirty-
year bonds, with interest at 4 per cent, for five
years, 5 per cent. for five years, and 6 per cent.
thereafter. This act was rejected by the house,
on the ground that any plan which contemplated
scaling the old bonds at less than 60 per cent.
would not be accepted by the creditors. The
legislature adjourned, after a three weeks' ses-
sion, without coming to any definite results. A
year later, Gov. Porter, in his message, stated that
there were over $20,000,000 bonds outstanding, of
which $11,000,000 had been declared invalid. —
The bond question had now become a distinct po-
litical issue. Although the party lines were not
strictly drawn on the question, the republicans
were generally in favor of meeting the debt in
one way or another. The parties or factions were
divided into four distinct groups: 1, wholesale
repudiators; 2, those who favored retiring the old
bonds at 50 per cent. of their face in exchange for
6 per cent, bonds; 3, those who favored Scaling
the bonds, principal and interest, to a third of
their nominal value ; and, 4, a party which ap-
proved the settlement urged by the arbitration
committee. On these issues party lines wavered,
ordinary majorities were shaken, and members of
the assembly were elected because of their known
standing on one or the other of these four schemes
of adjustment. The finance committee reported a
bill retiring different classes of bonds at different
rates : some at “60 and 4,” i. e., scaled to 60 per
cent. of their nominal value, and exchanged for
4 per cent. bonds; some at “50 and 4,” and Some
at “33% and 4.” About $2,250,000 (mineral house
bonds) were absolutely repudiated. Another class
were to be scaled at 33% per cent., and exchanged
for non-interest-bearing tax warrants, receivable
for state taxes and other dues to the state. After
a long debate, during which every scheme was
modified in one way or another, an act was passed
by a close vote, March 28, 1879, providing for the
retirement of most of the bonds at 50 per cent.
in exchange for state fours. The provisions of
this bill were supported by the railroad compa-
nies, which agreed to waive immunity from taxa-
tion and to pay taxes to such an amount as would
leave about 40 per cent. of the burden to be borne
by the people at 4 per cent. interest. The com-
mittee went to New York in April, 1879, where
the compromise was agreed to by the representa-
tives of the creditors, and the state seemed on the
verge of a final settlement. But repudiating sen-
timents had made too strong headway with the
people, who refused to ratify the compromise by
a large majority at the popular election on Aug.
7, 1879. At their convention in the year follow-
ing, May 6, the republicans declared once more in
favor of the validity of the debt, insisting that
any attempt to avoid it would be “downright re-
pudiation, and an act of high-handed dishonor,”
and that any voluntary proposition from the cred-
itors to take less than their claim demanded ought
to be accepted as a favor. On the other hand, the
greenbackers showed plainly enough that the taint
610
REPUDIATION.
of their financial heresies had affected their regard
for a question of common honesty. Their platform
contained these planks : “Resolution 1. That
neither the state of Tennessee nor its citizens are
bound in law or morals to pay the bonds issued
in aid of the railroads, amounting to $25,000,000,
and that such bonds are no part of the state debt.
Resolution 2. That we are opposed to scaling the
railroad bonds, and to any other act recognizing
them, because the people of Tennessee do not owe
them.” The democrats, at their convention, June
8, 1880, recognized the liberal disposition of the
state's creditors, and favored a settlement On the
best terms possible for the state. Two minority
reports, however, were so earnestly pushed as to
show how large a portion of the party had suc-
cumbed to repudiating theories. One (the “John-
son Report”) favored a settlement after canvassing
among the people to learn the terms to which the
majority would agree ; the other (the “Garner
Report”) urged out-and-out repudiation, as fol-
lows: “$ 4. We are unalterably opposed to any
settlement of the state debt by the legislature.”
After the adoption of the majority report, so
amended, however, as to provide that the new
coupons should not be made receivable for taxes,
etc., 160 delegates left the hall, organized a sepa-
rate convention, nominated S. F. Wilson for gov-
ernor, and adopted a resolution declaring against
the railrond bonds, the war-interest bonds, and the
receivability of coupons for taxes and other state
dues. The result of this split was, that the repub-
licans carried the election of Mr. Hawkins, their
nominee for governor, by a large vote. In 1881 a
funding act, which had been carried through the
house, passed the Senate by a bare majority of one.
But popular opposition to the recognition of the
debt was still strong. Henry J. Lynn and others,
claiming to be citizens and tax payers, applied to
the court of chancery for an injunction, on the
ground that the funding act was procured by
bribery and fraud. The bill was dismissed, and,
on appeal, the Supreme court decided that the act,
which provided for funding the entire debt at par
by 3 per cent. 99-year bonds, redeemable at any
time after five years, was legal, except as to the
provision which made coupons receivable for
taxes, etc.; on the ground that the legislature
could not “ contract away” the revenue or enter
upon an agreement which a subsequent legislature
might not repeal. On May 19 the “60 and 6’ act
was passed, providing for the issue of new bonds
at 3 per cent, interest for two years, 4 per cent. for
two years, 5 per cent. for two years, and 6 per
cent. thereafter, to be given in exchange for the
old bonds scaled at 60 per cent. This was in ac-
cordance with a proposition from Eugene Kelly,
Bsq., of New York, chairman of the bondholders’
committee. On Jan. 1, following, the comptroller
reported that less than half of the old bonds had
been funded. The bond question remained, there-
fore, unsettled, the democrats having split into
“state credit” and “low tax” factions, with the
republicans, for the most part, favoring a settle-
ment on the best possible terms. The democrats,
owing to these dissensions in their ranks, were
forced to hold the bond issue in abeyance. At
their convention, June 20, they resolved, “2.
While we accord to all an honest difference of
opinion, we regard the enactment of the ‘60 and
3, 4, 5, 6’ as unwise, because it is, in our opinion,
not in accordance with the views of the people.”
Their third plank recommended funding the
“state debt proper,” the validity of which had
not been disputed, at par, less war interest ; and
their fourth urged a tender to the creditors of a
settlement of the remaining debt by ten-year bonds
on the “50 and 3, 4” plan. Their nominee was
Gen. W. B. Bate. One hundred and fifty delegates
promptly bolted, approved the “60 and 3, 4, 5, 6”
settlement, and nominated Jos. H. Russell on the
“state credit ’’ ticket. The greenbackers, after re-
pudiating the railroad bonds, and all but a small
portion of the state debt, declared against the set-
tlement even of that portion until ratified by pop-
ular vote, and nominated Jno. R. Beasley, Gen.
Bate, the nominee of the “low tax” democrats,
was elected. The “60 and 3, 4, 5, 6’ plan is there-
fore stamped with popular disapproval, and the
politicians will hardly venture upon the consid-
eration of as favorable terms for the state's cred.
itors in the teeth of the popular feeling. It is
believed that the “readjusters” will consent to
a settlement of the ‘‘state debt proper,” less war
interest, in full ; with a provision for compro-
mising the remainder by funding it in 3 per
cent. thirty-year bonds, scaled at 50 per cent. ;
and the swindled creditors will have to make the
best of a very bad bargain. The federal govern-
ment loses by Tennessee's repudiation. At vari-
ous times, from 1836 to 1851, the United States
invested moneys held in trust for certain Indian
tribes by the secretary of the interior, in Ten.
nessee bonds. Up to Jan. 1, 1883, the amount
due the government, with accrued interest, was
$493,270. As the United States held the money
in trust, the interest has been paid to the benefi-
ciaries from time to time by congressional appro-
priation. As the debt has been repudiated by
Tennessee, the taxpayers of the nation have been,
and will be called upon periodically to settle the
debt of that state. It is claimed by ex-congreSS-
man William R. Moore, (vide letter to “N. Y.
Herald,” March 13, 1883), that both political par-
ties in the state have again and again, through
their governors and legislators, recognized the va-
lidity of the bonds which United States Senator
Harris declared void in the campaign of 1882.
“Propositions,” said Secretary Teller, in a letter
to Mr. Moore, March 3, 1883, “have been made
by the state of Tennessee, to issue new bonds for
accrued interest on the bonds held in trust by this
department, but the records do not show that any
offer has been made by said state to pay said
interest.”— Virginia. At the close of the War
the public debt of Virginia amounted to about
$41,000,000. In 1866 the auditor of the state re-
ported that the interest account, to the amount of
REPUDIATION.
611
about $2,250,000, could not be promptly met. In
the session 1870–71 the funding scheme was passed,
by which the coupons of the new issue were made
receivable for taxes, etc. The next legislature re-
pealed the act, as containing provisions too favor.
able for the creditors, but the repealing act was
not sustained by the courts, so the legislature
adopted the expedient of taxing the funded bonds,
evidence of the state's own indebtedness, + per
cent. In 1874–5 “ these measures had reduced
the interest account from $2,500,000 to $1,417,000,
but the taste for repudiation, or “adjustment,’ as
it is called in Virginia, had set in and was grow-
ing, so that, after several years of cheating, the
question is still a prominent one in the politics
of the state, and it was only after a vigorous and
excited canvass that the nomination of an open
repudiator for governor was prevented. His suc-
cessful opponent is now obliged to treat the sub-
ject with great caution, and there is every pros-
pect that in the end ‘readjustment” will carry the
day.” (“N. Y. Nation,” 1877, No. 636.) In 1875
the interest account was nearly $3,000,000 in ar-
rears, and the outstanding bonds in 1876 amount-
ed to $29,489,326.38. On March 11, 1878, the
legislature passed the refunding act, providing for
the issue of eighteen-year and thirty-two-year 3
per cent. and 4 per cent. non-taxable bonds. In
his message to the legislature, Dec. 4, 1878, the
governor said: “As long as the state debt contin-
ues unsettled, there is an incubus upon the spirit
and a clog upon the movements of Virginia.
When it is settled honorably and finally, she will
start upon a career that will not be unworthy
of her history.” One of the bondholders, a cit-
izen of the state, published a statement at this
time to the effect that the only possible remedy
for the financial condition of the commonwealth
was readjustment, i. e., scaling the old issue, and
reducing the interest to 4 per cent. A bill was
passed in February, 1878, but vetoed by the gov-
ernor on the ground that it failed to meet the re-
quirements of the situation, and was vague, un-
just and unconstitutional. In the following De-
cember, he urged a further attempt at adjustment
with the creditors. By this time the issue was
fairly before the people, and the state divided
into “debt payers” and “readjusters”—a euphe-
mism for repudiators. Early in 1879 the McCul-
loch bill, which provided for refunding $8,491,961
by a new issue, to be dated Jan. 1, 1879, payable
in 1919, with interest at 3 per cent. for ten years,
4 per cent. for twenty years, and 5 per cent. for
ten years, was passed. The state was to have the
privilege of redeeming the new issue at any time
after the first ten years, and the coupons were
made receivable for taxes and other state dues.
The readjusters, under the leadership of Gen.
William Mahone, assembled in convention at Rich-
mond on Feb. 25, 1879. After adopting a reso-
lution professing adherence to democratic prin-
ciples, they declared themselves formally sepa-
rated from the democratic party, and resolved as
follows: “3. That in any settlement with the
state's creditors the annual interest of the recog-
nized indebtedness must be brought within her
revenues under the present rate of taxation. * *
6. That a settlement within the limitation desig-
nated is the utmost stretch of the people's ability
to pay, and should be satisfactory to the creditor
as the furthest exaction he can fairly insist on.
* * 16. That full recognition of these principles
and declarations by the people of Virginia and
her Creditors, is absolutely essential to any amica-
ble readjustment, and no readjustment in which
they, or any of them, shall have been neglected,
can be final, certain and satisfactory.” Gov. Hol.
liday declared in his message that he did not be-
lieve a higher rate of taxation could not be borne
when the object was to preserve the credit of the
state. “Whatever may be the views of some,”
said he, “I feel that should the present funding
bill be stopped in its execution, it would be a great
misfortune. It has been regarded by the world
as a fair and honest settlement between the com-
monwealth and ller Creditors. * * We have
every reason to believe that, had no opposition
been manifested and its repeal not been mooted,
the bonds by this time would have been well nigh
all brought in to be funded under its operation.”
The vote at the election of November, 1879, stood
as follows: debt payers, 69,736; readjusters 77,070.
7,689 republicans voted with the debt payers, and
18,426 with the readjusters; a result which showed
a large defection from the ranks of the regular
republican party, and pointed unmistakably to
the coming union. So-called republicans, who
cared more for victory than principle, made haste
to join in a coalition which insured them a place
on the side of the successful faction, and their de-
fection swelled the readjuster ranks to the dimen-
sions of a working majority in the state. At the
ensuing session of 1879–80 the notorious senate
bill No. 176, impudently entitled “An act to re-
store the public credit,” and known as the Rid-
dleburger bill, was passed, repudiating over
$13,000,000 of the state debt. It was promptly
vetoed by Gov. Holliday. “I can not put my
signature in approval to this bill,” said he, in his
memorandum. “I respectfully return it to your
honorable body in which it originated, because I
believe it to be in violation of the constitution of
the state, in violation of the constitution of the
United States, in violation of the spirit which has
ever moved and inspired the traditions of the
commonwealth and made her name so honored
among men.” After referring to the credit of the
state, pledged as far back as 1838, the governor
added: “no sooner was peace proclaimed than a
general assembly, composed of her best citizens,
men of the old régime, unanimously reaffirmed
that obligation. This was repeated, in one form
or another, not less than four times.” The read-
juster convention met July 7, 1880, with the issues
and prizes of a national campaign before them.
They indorsed the vetoed bill “as constituting
the extreme limit of legal and moral obligations
upon the part of this commonwealth to the hold-
612
REPUDIATION.
ers of her bonds.” Both readjusters and demo-
crats favored the national nominees of the demo-
cratic party, and were careful to declare their be-
lief that in national politics only national issues
should be regarded. An attempt at fusion was
made but failed, because, it is alleged, the read-
justers were too grasping in their claims for the
lion's share of the spoils in event of success. The
futile negotiations only widened the breach, and
finally the national democratic committee, seeing
that a union was out of the question, and perceiv-
ing that this dickering with the repudiators was
likely to lose the party votes elsewhere through-
out the country, issued an address late in Octo-
ber, 1880, urging the democratic voters of Vir-
ginia to support the ticket of the regulars. Where-
upon the chairman of the readjusters brought out
a counter address, declaring that his faction were
striving for a higher prize than “any abstract
title to democracy,” viz., the right of the people
to govern their own state in their own way. The
election resulted as follows: conservative demo-
crats (“regulars”), 96,912; readjusters, 31,679;
republicans, 84,020. Meanwhile the readjuster
coalition had elected Gen. Mahone to succeed R.
E. Withers as United States senator for the six
years beginning March 4, 1881. In the national
senate the parties were equally divided, thirty-
seven republicans, thirty-seven democrats, and
two independents, Mahone of Virginia, and Davis
of Illinois. Gen. Mahone did not appear until the
second day of the session, when the debate on the
organization of the committees was at its height.
The fact that he had taken no part in the demo-
cratic caucus, and proclaimed himself an indepen-
dent, aroused the suspicions of the democratic
senators who had counted upon him to give them
a bare majority entitling their party to the rights
of a majority in making up the Senate commit-
tees, and upon his appearance he was at once at-
tacked by Mr. Hill of Georgia, who accused
him of treachery and bad faith. Gen. Mahone
took the floor in his own defense and began a
statement of his position. He declared himself a
democrat in principle, but insisted that he did not
owe his seat to the democratic party, and an-
nounced his intention of voting with the repub-
licans in organizing the senate. Mr. Davis voting
with the democrats, a tie was the result. Where-
upon Vice-President Arthur cast the deciding vote
in favor of his party and against the protest of the
democratic Senators, who endeavored to show that
the vice-president had no vote upon a question of
organization, even in a tie. Gorham was chosen
secretary of the Senate, and Riddleburger, the
readjuster, sergeant-at-arms; a selection which
gave rise to renewed charges of a “ deal” between
Mahone and the republicans. Their opponents
made desperate efforts to stave off the election of
officers by all sorts of dilatory measures, motions
to adjourn, etc.; but Senator Davis then declared,
that, having voted for the existing organization as
he had felt bound to do, now that the majority,
though a majority of but one, had changed, he
would no longer stand in the way to block the busi-
ness of the Senate. This decided the matter, and
the new Organization was completed. Soon after
the fall election of 1880 the United States supreme
court decided, in January, 1881, in the case of
Hartmann vs. Greenhow, Treas., etc., 102 U. S.
Rep., that the Virginia act of 1873–6, which provid-
ed that the state treasurer should retain as a state
tax 50 per cent. of the market value of the inter-
est coupons on the bonds, funded and unfunded,
could not be applied to coupons separated from
bonds and in the hands of different owners, with.
out impairing the obligation with such bondhold-
ers, contained in the funding act of 1871, and the
contract with the holders of the coupons. At the
readjuster convention, June 2 and 3, 1881, the
Riddleburger bill was again indorsed, and Mr.
Cameron nominated for governor. The second
place on the ticket was given to Jno. F. Lewis,
who at the time was chairman of the republican
state central committee. The republican com-
mittee at once convened, deposed Lewis by a vote.
of 15 to 2, and elected Gen. W. C. Wickham in .
his stead. Lewis protested, and a struggle at
once began between those who favored the coali-
tion with the readjusters and the “straight out ’’
republicans. Both factions adopted platforms,
the former declaring their reasons for allying
themselves to the readjuster, or, as they called it,
the “liberal” party, in opposition to the conserva-
tive democrats whom they dubbed “bourbons.”
Their manifesto upon the bond issue was as fol-
lows. “4. * * Abating no part of our deter-
mination to deal justly with all the creditors of
Virginia, and to labor to pay every dollar she hon-
estly owes her creditors, we deem it inexpedient
and unwise to make separate nominations for state
officers, and we declare in favor of hearty co-oper-
ation with all other citizens who support the can-
didates nominated by the anti-bourbon or liberal
convention of June 2 and 3, 1881.” The regular
republicans, or “straight outs,” also held a conven-
tion and put in nomination a separate ticket, with
Gen. Wickham at the head. This was their bond.
plank: “3. That the republican party of Virginia.
hereby pledges itself to redeem the state from the
discredit that now hangs over her in regard to her
just obligations.” On Aug. 4 the conservative
democrats convened, denounced repudiation, and
nominated for governor Jno. W. Daniel. The read-
justers’ fusion elected their candidates, Cameron
and Lewis, and a majority of the state legislature.
At the election for United States senator to suc-
ceed Gen. Johnson in 1883, the readjusters carried
their candidate, H. H. Riddleburger, the author
of the repudiation act, and with a working major-
ity of six in each branch of the legislature, pro-
ceeded to carry out their schemes for repudiating
the state debt by enacting the measures commonly
known as “coupon-killers.” The first of these
laws, entitled “An act to prevent frauds upon the
commonwealth and the holders of her securities,”
(passed Jan. 14, 1882), provided, under the plea of
protecting the state against forged and spurious
RESIGNATION.
613
coupons, that no coupons should be received by
the tax collectors in payment for dues to the state
until tested by a legal tribunal. In other words,
it required the receiving officer to whom coupons
should be tendered under the act of 1871, for taxes
Or dues to the state, to give a receipt for the same
as ‘‘ held for identification,” and then to Collect
the taxes in legal tender, coin, or national bank
notes. He was then to mark the coupons so sur-
rendered and deliver them to the court, with which
the tax payer might file a petition to prove the gen-
uineness of his securities, and if successful in his
law suit have his money refunded! The other act
practically refused mandamus in tax cases. The
Constitutionality of these enactments was at once
put to the test. In March, 1882, Andrew Antoni
tendered for taxes a coupon of 1871, and on the
Collectors’ refusal to accept it as payment, applied
to the state court for a mandamºus. The court
divided equally on the law of 1882; and, on appeal,
the United States supreme court, Chief Justice
Waite delivering the majority opinion, held
(March, 1883) that the state was bound to accept
these coupons as already laid down in Hartmann
vs. Greenhow, (supra), but declared, as the su-
preme court had also held in Hoffman vs. Quincy,
4 Wall., 553, that so long as the state legislature
did not impair any substantial contract it could
change the form of the remedy, and that the right
to appeal to the state court for adjudication upon
the validity of the coupon left to the creditor an
adequate remedy. “No attempt has been made,”
said Chief Justice Waite, “to fix definitely the
line between alterations of the remedy which are
deemed to be legitimate, and those which, under
the form of modifying the renfedy, impair sub-
stantial rights. * * In all such cases the ques-
tion becomes, therefore, one of reasonableness,
and of that the legislature is primarily the judge.”
After rehearsing the provisions of the act of 1882,
and the steps which a tax payer had to take to
enforce his rights, the chief justice said: “It mat-
ters not whether the coupons have been refused
for the taxes, if full payment of the amount that
they call for is actually made in money. A rem-
edy, therefore, which is ample for the enforcement
Of the payment of the money, is ample for all the
purposes of the contract. That we think is given
by the act of 1882 in both forms of proceeding.”
The court took especial pains to say that the ques-
tion was not, whether the collector might not be
held responsible in damages if he attempted to
Collect after refusing to accept the coupons.
decide only the question which is actually before
us,”—plainly intimating that an attempt on the
part of the collector to levy after such tender and
refusal would render him liable. This reasoning,
which to many seems rather specious, was not
concurred in by Justices Harlan and Field. “No
greater calamity,” said the former in his dissent-
ing opinion, “could, in my judgment, befall the
Country than the general adoption of the doctrine
that it is not a constitutional impairment of the
obligation of contracts to embarrass their enforce-
“We
ment with onerous and destructive conditions, and
thus to evade the performance of them.”—The
people of the defaulting states have not always
relied solely upon an appeal to popular vote, legis-
lative enactment or judicial decision for aid in
their efforts to avoid payment of their honest
debts. Voters have been coerced, by threats of
heavy taxation, to lend their countenance to the
schemes of the readjuster and the repudiator. In
more than one state judges have lost their seats
upon the bench because their decisions in favor of
state honesty have given offense to the popular
demand; and even force has been resorted to in
some communities where the heavy interest tax
has threatened a serious burden. In one county
of Missouri, against which an interest judgment
had been obtained, and manda/mºus to compel the
levy and collection of a tax secured, an organized
mob seized the books and expunged the levy. As
may be seen from the decisions already noted,
pronounced by the highest tribunal of the land,
the defaulting commonwealths have matters en-
tirely in their own hands. Under the 11th amend-
ment no power can legally coerce a state to keep
its solemn pledge. Whether a sense of national
dishonor will ever prove strong enough to demand
and secure the repeal of that provision, is a thing
of doubtful surmise. But while that inhibition
stands, a sovereign state possesses the royal right
of snapping its fingers in its creditor's face. To
the creditor no remedy is left save to rely upon
the innate honesty of the people, and to wait for
the slow revival of a healthy and honest public
opinion. Hope of such in some communities rests,
it must be admitted, upon but slight foundation.
GEORGE WALTON GREEN.
RESIGNATION. Applied to an office in the
American system of government, the proper mean-
ing to be attached to this term is, the relinquish-
ment—and the return by a formal act—of all
claim to the position of honor or trust which had
been conferred upon the individual to the power
which originally bestowed it, or to its agent accred-
ited by law to receive such formal surrender. The
highest office known to the American system is
that of president. The selection of president is
by the ballots of electors (electoral college), who
are themselves chosen by ballot by the people of
the various states of the Union. The next highest
office is that of vice-president, chosen in the same
manner and at the same time as the president,
and who, in case of the removal, death, resigna-
tion or inability of the president to perform the
duties of the office, becomes president. — Now,
with respect to the resignation of these two impor-
tant offices, the laws of the United States provide
(Rev. Stat., sec. 151) that the only evidence of a
refusal to accept or of a resignation of the Office
of president or vice-president shall be an instru-
ment in writing declaring the same, and Sub-
scribed by the person refusing to accept or resign-
ing, as the case may be, and delivered into the
office of the secretary of state. In case of the
614
RESIGNATION.
removal, death, resignation or inability of both
the president and vice-president, the president of
the senate, or, if there be none, then the speaker
of the house of representatives for the time being,
shall act as president until the disability is re-
moved or a president is elected in accordance with
the forms of law. — Each state is entitled to a
representation of two senators in the senate of the
United States, who are chosen by the legislature
of the state in accordance with the provisions of
the constitution, the laws of congress, and those
of the state enacted for that purpose. In case of
the resignation of a United States Senator during
the recess of the legislature of a state, the execu-
tive of such state is empowered by the constitu-
tion to fill the vacancy thus occurring, by making
a temporary appointment until the next meeting
of the legislature, which shall then fill such va-
cancy by the election of a successor.—As it is the
duty of the executive of a state from which a sen-
ator has been chosen, to certify his election, under
the seal of the state, to the president of the senate
of the United States; and as it is likewise the duty
of the executive when vacancies happen in the
representation of his state in the senate of the
United States, that he shall notify the legislature
that such vacancy exists, it is therefore incumbent
that the resignation of a Senator should be trans-
mitted to the executive of such state as he has
represented in the United States senate. — The
constitution also provides that when vacancies
occur in the representation of any state, the ex-
ecutive authority thereof shall issue writs of elec-
tion to fill such vacancies; therefore when a rep.
resentative in congress from any state resigns his
seat in that body, his resignation must be for-
warded to the governor of his state, who will
thereupon issue his writ ordering an election in
such district to fill the vacancy created by the
resignation. But the governor of a state has no
authority to appoint a member temporarily to fill
the vacancy in the state's representation in the
house of representatives, as he is empowered by
the constitution to do when, under certain cir-
cumstances, a vacancy exists in the Senate. —
Should a member of the cabinet resign his posi-
tion as head of the department to which he was
called by the president, the resignation of such
officer must be addressed to the president of the
United States from whom he received the ap-
pointment, and who, at his early convenience,
will appoint his successor by and with the advice
and Consent of the Senate. Until his successor is
appointed, the duties of the office are performed
by the assistant Secretary or assistant head of the
department.— Sometimes a president calls for the
resignation of a single member of his cabinet when
displeased with his course, or, upon a change of
policy or for other cause, he may require the res-
ignation of all the members of his cabinet; and
it is usual for each member of the cabinet to ten-
der his resignation to the president, to take effect
at the expiration of his term of office; and like-
wise all members of the cabinet of a deceased
president tender their resignations as such to the
vice-president on his assuming the duties of pres-
ident. — Whenever the heads of bureaus or the
subordinates of any of the heads of the depart-
ments resign their offices, if they have been ap-
pointed by the heads of such departments, their
letters of resignation will be addressed to such
heads of departments; but if their appointment
proceeds from the president of the United States,
the letter of resignation must be addressed to the
president of the United States. The resignation
of persons in the various branches of the diplo-
matic service come under this rule. — Whenever
the governor of a state resigns his position as
such, the powers, duties and emoluments of the
office for the residue of the term devolve upon the
lieutenant governor. In case the lieutenant gov-
ernor should resign also, or become incapable,
from any other cause, of performing the duties.
of the office, the president of the state Senate will
act as governor until the vacancy is filled or the
disability removed. And if the president of the
senate, from any of the above-named causes, be-
comes incapable of performing the duties of gov-
ernor, the same will then devolve upon the speaker
of the house of representatives. – If the Office of
auditor, treasurer, secretary of state, attorney
general, superintendent of public instruction, or
other state officer, becomes vacant by reason of
resignation or otherwise, the laws of the states
generally authorize the governor to fill the same
temporarily until successors are elected in such
manner as may be provided by law. — Whenever
members of either branch of the state legislature
resign their positions as such, the executive of the
state will immediately issue writs of election to
fill the vacancies thus created, and the person
thus resigning must direct his letter of resignation
to the governor of the state, who will, upon this
notification, proceed as directed by law. – When-
ever a vacancy occurs in the office of chief justice
of the supreme court of the United States by rea-
son of resignation or otherwise, the duties and
powers of his office will devolve upon the associs.
ate justice who is first in precedence, until anoth-
er chief justice is appointed and duly qualified.
This provision applies to every associate justice
who succeeds to the office of chief justice. —
Should a judge of a United States circuit court
resign his position as such, the court for that cir-
cuit may be held by the circuit justice or by the
district judge of that district, sitting alone, or by
the two sitting together; but a district judge thus.
sitting can not give a vote in any case of appeal
or error from his own decision : Provided, That
such a cause may, by the consent of parties, be
heard and disposed of by him when holding a
circuit court, sitting alone. When sitting with
the justice of the circuit, the judgment or decree
in such cases must be rendered in conformity with
the opinion of the presiding justice. — If, by rea-
son of resignation or otherwise, no justice is allot-
ted to a circuit, the chief justice of the Supreme
court may request the justice of another circuit.
RETURNING BOARDS.
615
to preside at the court to be held therein, and ex-
ercise all the powers connected therewith, until a
justice is allotted to such circuit. — When the
office of judge of any district court becomes va-
cant, by reason of resignation or otherwise, all
process, pleadings and proceedings pending before
such court must be continued until the next stated
term after the appointment and qualification of
his successor. But when the office is vacant in
any district of a state containing two or more dis-
tricts, the judge of the other or of either of the
other districts may hold the said district court,
and all proceedings before him will have the same
effect and validity as if done by or before a judge
appointed by such district. — Section 714 of the
Revised Statutes provides that, whenever any
judge of any court of the United States resigns
his office, after having held his commission as
Such at least ten years, and having attained the
age of seventy years, he shall, during the residue
of his natural life, receive the same salary which
was by law payable to him at the time of his res-
ignation. —Whenever vacancies occur in the of.
fice of judges of state courts by resignation or oth-
erwise, and such offices are elective, such vacan-
cies must be filled by an election; but generally,
when the unexpired term does not exceed one
year, the vacancy is filled by an appointment by
the governor of the state, to whom the letter of
resignation is addressed, and by whom all judi-
cial officers are commissioned. — With respect to
the resignation of officers of the army, the law
provides that whenever a vacancy occurs, by res-
ignation or otherwise, in the office of general or
lieutenant general, such office shall cease, and all
enactments creating or regulating such offices
shall, respectively, be held to be repealed. — The
laws further provide that no officer of the army
shall hold any civil office, whether by election or
appointment, and every such officer who accepts
Or exercises the functions of a civil office, shall
thereby cease to be an officer of the army, and his
Commission shall be vacated, the same as if he had
resigned from the service. Also, that any officer
of the army who accepts or holds any appoint-
ment in the diplomatic or consular service of the
government, shall be considered as having resigned
his place in the army, and it shall be filled as a va-
cancy. — Article 49, of the Articles of War, pro-
vides that any officer who, having tendered his
resignation, quits his post or proper duties with-
out leave, and with intent to remain permanently
absent therefrom, prior to due notice of the accept-
ance of the same, shall be deemed and punished as
a deserter.—With respect to the resignation of of.
ficers in the naval service of the United States, the
law provides that vacancies occuring in the grades
of admiral and vice-admiral shall not be filled by
promotion or in any other manner; and that when
the offices of said grade shall become vacant, either
by resignation or otherwise, the grade itself shall
cease to exist. — The laws further provide, that
if any officer of the navy accepts or holds an ap-
pointment in the diplomatic or consular service of
the United States, he shall be considered as having
resigned his place in the navy, and it shall be
filled as a vacancy. Also, that no officer of the
navy who has been dismissed by the sentence of
a court martial, or suffered to resign in order to
escape such dismissal, shall ever again become an
officer of the navy. — Article 10, of section 1624,
Rev. Stat., relating to the government of the navy,
provides that any commissioned officer of the
navy or marine corps, who, having tendered his
resignation, quits his post or proper duties with-
out leave, and with intent to remain permanent-
ly absent therefrom, prior to due notice of the
acceptance of such resignation, shall be deemed
and punished as a deserter.
JNO. W. CLAMPITT.
RESTRICTIVE SYSTEM. (See EMBARGo,
in U. S. History.)
RETURNING BOARDS (IN U. S. HISTORY).
There is an infinite diversity in the laws of the
different states which regulate the declaration of
the results of popular elections; but they may be
very roughly grouped under three classes. 1.
The returns of elections for governor and other
state officers are generally sent to the Secretary
of state. In some states they are sent by him to
the presiding officers of the legislature, to be
opened and canvassed in the presence of the two
houses; in others they are canvassed and declared
by the persons holding certain designated State
offices. These latter are canvassing boards; and
their powers are thus summed up by Cooley, as
cited below: they “act for the most part minis-
terially only, and are not vested with judicial
powers to correct errors and mistakes that may
have occurred with any officer who preceded
them in the performance of any duty connected
with the election, or to pass upon any disputed
fact which may decide the result.” Nevertheless,
some correction is always done, the extent and
importance of it varying in different states, and
sometimes according to party necessity. In-
deed, much of the difficulty of 1879 in Maine (see
that state) arose from the partisan application by
the canvassing board of varying state precedents
in the correction of errors or the refusal to cor-
rect them. 2. In the case of members of the legis-
lature, the returns usually go at first to the secre-
tary of state, though sometimes to a canvassing
board or directly to the presiding officers of the
two houses. Contests, however, are decided by
the houses themselves. 3. In the case of other
state and local officers, contested returns are gen-
erally settled by the courts, either by statute or by
the issue and decision of common law writs in the
nature of quo warranto. 4. In the mixed case
of presidential electors, appointed “in such man-
ner as the legislature of the state may direct,” but
acting in a national capacity, the final and abso-
lute decision of contests properly belongs to the
state also (see PENNSYLVANIA), with a general
power in congress to make rules for the authen-
616
RETURNING BOARDS.
tication of the state's decision. Congress, how-
ever, has never done its duty in the premises, but
has reserved to itself a special power, to decide
arbitrarily upon special cases of contested elec-
tions of electors. (See ELECTORs.) — The circum-
stances of the reconstructed state governments of
the southern states after the rebellion (see RECON-
STRUCTION, III.) were peculiar. The voting ma-
jority had been made ignorant, timid, poor and
debased by a system of hereditary slavery; the
minority, whether voting or disfranchised, was
embittered by defeat, by a rankling sense of in-
justice, and by a hatred of negro rule. What
was to prevent the minority, by organized or
spontaneous fraud or violence, from ousting the
majority as soon as the strong hand which had
reversed their positions should be withdrawn?
The first effort to solve this problem by the inter-
position of returning boards may be found in the
Arkansas constitution of 1868. Hitherto the re-
turns of elections to ratify or reject a state con-
stitution had always been made to one or more
of the old state officers, with only ministerial
power, that is, power to compile, count and de-
clare the results sent them by election officers.
The Arkansas constitution designated three pri-
vate persons by name as returning officers, with
judicial powers. They were to receive returns
from the judges of election, to compile and count
them, to reject all fraudulent or illegal votes, and
in case of fraud, fear, violence, improper influ-
ence or restraint, to set aside the whole election
and order a new one, or to reject or correct the
result in any county or precinct. On the con-
trary, the constitution of the same state in 1874,
while naming three returning officers, gave them
no judicial powers. — In Florida, South Carolina
and Louisiana, returning boards with judicial
powers were established by the reconstructed state
governments by statute. In all three states the
power to do so was claimed under very similar
clauses in the state constitution: in Florida, that
“laws shall be passed regulating elections, and
prohibiting undue influence thereon from power,
bribery, tumult, or other improper practice”; in
Louisiana, that “the privilege of free suffrage
shall be supported by laws regulating elections,
and prohibiting, under adequate penalties, all
undue influence thereon from bribery, tumult, or
other improper practice”; in South Carolina, that
“the right of suffrage shall be protected by laws
regulating elections, and prohibiting, under ade-
quate penalties, all undue influences from power,
bribery, tumult, or improper conduct.” Outside
of these clauses there is absolutely no provision
by which the powers given to the returning boards
can be defended; and the clauses specified seem
to be plainly intended for the regulation of the
elections themselves, and not to empower the legis-
lative or executive departments to assume judicial
functions in Counting the results of the elections.
And, as one of the members of the electoral com-
mission Commented on the Louisiana provision
as a novelty in state constitutions, it may be well
to note that in Florida since 1838, and in Louis-
iana since 1812, these same provisions, &psissim’s
werbis, had been inserted in all their state constitu-
tions; but no one, until 1868–72, supposed that they
authorized the creation of returning boards, with
judicial powers, by the state legislatures. Indeed,
such assumption is impliedly forbidden by the
constitution of every state, and expressly forbid-
den in most of them, as it is in Florida and South
Carolina: “The legislative, executive and judicial
powers shall be separate and distinct from each
other, and no person or persons exercising the
functions of one of said departments shall assume
or discharge the duties of any other.” In Louis-
iana, also, it is provided that “no judicial powers,
except as committing-magistrates in criminal cases,
shall be conferred on any officers other than those
mentioned in this title [judges of various grades].”
The powers given to a returning board, in state
elections, seem to have been absolute usurpations
by the legislature: a violent revolution, to be re-
sisted by the individual just so far as he should
choose to risk his personal safety. But, in the
matter of presidential electors, in which the
country at large was most interested in 1876–7,
the power of the legislature to constitute returning
boards with judicial powers rests on an entirely
different basis, distinct from and higher than the
state constitution itself. The national constitu-
tion directs the appointment of the electors of a
state to be “in such manner as the legislature
thereof may direct.” The power of the legisla-
ture over the manner of appointment is thus ab-
solute, and can not be restrained or abridged either
by the state constitution or by congress. If the
state constitution should expressly prohibit return-
ing boards in the case of presidential electors, the
prohibition would have no effect whatever on the
legislature. The distinction is essential. It will
explain why the Hayes administration in 1877
abandoned the defense of the state governments
which were the creatures of the returning boards;
and will show the sophistry of the plausible asser-
tion that the administration had thereby impeached
its own title. — The Florida act of Feb. 27, 1872,
constituted the secretary of state, the attorney
general, and the comptroller, or any two of them
with any other member of the state cabinet desig-
nated by them, a board to canvass returns of state
elections, and elections for presidential electors,
and to determine and declare who have been
elected. “If any returns are so irregular, false
or fraudulent that the board can not determine
the true vote, they shall so certify, and shall not
include such returns in their determination and
declaration.” In Louisiana (see that state) there
was a continuous difficulty in ascertaining the true
returning board; but the final act of Nov. 20,
1872, constituted “five persons, to be elected by
the senate from all political parties,” a board with
power “to make the returns of all elections.” A
majority of the board was to be a quorum; and
in case of any vacancy by death, resignation or
otherwise, the vacancy was to be filled by the
RETURNING BOARDS.
617
residue of the board. In case of any violence or
bribery in any precinct, the local election commis-
sioners were to certify the facts to the returning
board through the Secretary of state or the super-
visors of registration, annexing their certificate to
the returns, which were to be sent within twenty-
four hours after the election. Within ten days
after the election the returning board was to meet
in New Orleans; canvass and compile those re-
turns which had no certificates of bribery or vio-
lence annexed; then investigate the certificates
which had been annexed, taking evidence there-
on, and sending for persons and papers; and final-
ly exclude the returns from any voting place, if
satisfied that the commissioners’ certificate was
correct, and announce the result. Their deter-
mination was to be prima facie evidence of the
right to hold office, “until set aside after contest
according to law.” If the constitutionality of the
law be granted, its provisions, honestly executed,
would seem to be very fair. The twenty-four
hours' limitation on the sending of certificates by
local commissioners would preclude any general
collusion; open trial of evidence would ascertain
the truth or falsity of the certificates of violence;
and the power of setting aside their decisions, to
be exercised by the legislature in the case of its
own members and by the courts in the case of
other officers, would have been a sufficient safe-
guard. Unfortunately, we can know little of the
possible results of a righteous execution of the law;
for the board systematically disobeyed most of its
provisions, and perverted the rest. The essential
point of the twenty-four hours' limitation was
disregarded; the secret sessions of the board made
the taking of “evidence” a farce; and by these
two perversions it made both the courts and the
legislature so entirely its creatures as to practically
destroy any right of appeal. — The South Carolina
statute was a combination of both the preceding.
Local canvassers sent their returns to the county
canvassers, and these to the state returning board,
composed of the secretary of state, the treasurer,
the comptroller, the attorney general, and the ad-
jutant general. These had judicial powers over
the canvass, except as to the returns for governor
and lieutenant governor, which they were to trans-
mit to the speaker of the house, to be counted in
the presence of both houses. – Bitter complaints
had often been made of the partisan and unfair
action of the returning boards, particularly in
Louisiana, but little attention was paid to them in
northern states, where the boards were generally
considered in some sense an antidote to southern
lawlessness at elections. Immediately after the
presidential election of 1876 it was found that the
whole result hinged on the decision of the returning
boards. (Oregon is not regarded here, since in that
state the canvassing officer, the Secretary of state,
had been given no judicial powers, either by the
constitution or by the legislature.) In Florida the
returning board consisted of Samuel B. McLin,
Secretary of state, Clayton A. Cowgill, comptrol-
ler, and Wm. A. Cocke, attorney general; in Loui-
siana, of J. Madison Wells, T. C. Anderson, L.
M. Kenner, and G. Casanave, all private citizens
except Wells, who was federal naval officer at
New Orleans; in South Carolina, of Henry E.
Hayne, Secretary of state, F. L. Cardozo, treas-
urer, Thos. C. Dunn, comptroller, Wm. H. Stone,
attorney general, and H. W. Purvis, adjutant
general, all colored except Dunn and Stone. Nov.
10, a large number of republican and democratic
leaders in northern states, on the invitation of Pres-
ident Grant and the democratic national commit.
tee respectively, went to the three disputed states
to watch the canvass; but they had no concert of
action, and can not really be said to have acted at
all. The boards met and Organized in South Car-
olina Nov. 10, in Louisiana Nov. 16, and in Flor-
ida Nov. 27. In Louisiana, the fifth member of
the board, Oscar Arroyo, a democrat, had, for
Some unexplained reason, resigned immediately
after the election, and the remaining four, all re-
publicans, refused to fill his place. When the
board, by its tenth rule, resolved to decide con-
tests in secret session, the democrats protested, but
without success. The board also refused to allow
United States supervisors to be present at their
secret sessions; to allow counsel for contestants to
inspect the counting of the returns; or to count
the ballots of four republican parishes, on which
the names of five of the eight Hayes electors had
been forgotten, only for the three electors specified
on them. It is impossible to give the board's de-
fense of its action in these cases, for it assigned no
reasons. Dec. 6, it declared elected the republican
candidates for state officers, 4 republican and 2
democratic congressmen, 19 republicans and 17
democrats in the state Senate, and 71 republicans,
43 democrats, and 3 independents in the state
lower house. Its principal changes had been made
by counting for all the eight Hayes electors some
1,200 ballots bearing the names of only three; and
by throwing out about 13,000 democratic and
2,000 republican votes, mainly in the parishes of
East Baton Rouge, De Soto, East and West Feli-
ciana, Grant, Iberia, Lafayette, Lafourche, More-
house, and Ouachita. No attempt was made to
control the board by the state courts. – In Florida
the state circuit court for Leon county, before the
meeting of the board, had ordered it to canvass
the votes forthwith. Dec. 5, the board declared
the popular vote on presidential electors to be
23,849 republican, and 22,923 democratic, a repub-
lican majority of 926; all of Manatee county, and
parts of several other counties had been rejected
for violation of election laws. Dec. 22, the state
supreme court ordered the board to canvass the
votes for state officers only from the face of the
returns. What the “face of the returns' was, is
doubtful. Both parties agree that, taking all the
counties but one (Baker), the vote in the State was
almost an exact tie. From Baker county two re-
turns had been sent: one, made up Nov. 10, by
the county clerk and a justice of the peace, giving
the vote as 143 republican, and 238 democratic, a
democratic majority of 95; and another, made up
618
REVENUE.
Nov. 13, by the county judge, sheriff, and a jus-
tice of the peace, excluding two precincts, and
giving the vote as 130 republican, and 89 demo-
cratic, a republican majority of 41. The gist of
the difficulty was thus in the double return from
Baker county. Taking the second return from
Baker county, and throwing out Clay county (164
democratic majority), the board reported, Dec.
27, a republican majority of 206 for electors, and
a democratic majority of 195 for governor. This
report the court refused to receive; and, Jan. 1,
1877, the board at last made return in accordance
with the democratic claims, and the democratic
state officers were inaugurated. But in the case
of the electors it was too late. The Hayes electors
had received the governor's certificate on the
board’s first return, had met and voted, Dec. 6,
and were now dead in law. The Tilden electors
had met and voted the same day, on a certificate
given by a single member of the board. Jan. 17,
1877, the new legislature passed an act requiring
the new state officers to canvass the returns for
1876. " This they did, and declared the Tilden
electors successful; but the electoral commission
decided this action to be entirely ea post facto, and
void. — In South Carolina the state supreme court
ordered the board to exercise no judicial functions
in the state count, Nov. 17, and in the presidential
count, Nov. 22; but on the same day that the lat-
ter action was taken, the board gave certificates
to the republican electors and state officers, and
adjourned sine die. They were arrested for con-
tempt, but released by the federal circuit court on
habeas corpus. – In Louisiana and South Carolina
new election laws were at once passed by the new
democratic legislatures, under which the judicial
functions of the returning boards were almost
entirely cut off. The same result had almost been
reached in Florida by the supreme court’s con-
struction of the board’s powers; but in 1878 the
board (now democratic) again threw out two coun-
ties for informality. The state supreme court
again decided against the board. It may be taken
for granted in future that Judge Cooley's defini-
tion of the powers of a canvassing board, hereto-
fore cited, will be followed by all American courts;
and that any attempt by a state legislature to give
such a board judicial functions, without a plain
authorization of the act by the state constitution,
will be held by the courts to be unconstitutional
and void. — For further proceedings in regard to
the votes of the presidential electors, see ELEC-
TORAL COMMISSION ; DISPUTED ELECTIONs, IV.
See constitutions of the states referred to in Poore's
Federal and State Constitutions; summary of pro-
visions for election returns in the various states, 2
Hough's American Constitutions, 758; authorities
under ELECTORAL COMMISSION; Cooley's Consti-
tutional Lºmitations, 3d edit., 734, and law author-
ities there cited; Louisiana Rev. Stat., 96 (act of
Nov. 20, 1872); 25 Louisiana, Ammual Rep., 14,
263, 267; 16 Florida Reports, 17; and later author-
ities under LOUISIANA.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
REVENUE, Public. Finance is declared by
Bentham to be “an append and inseparable ac-
companiment of political economy.” Economists
are, however, divided in their opinions regarding
the closeness and the legitimacy of this connec-
tion. Joseph Garnier remarks, that certain writers
of general treatises on political economy have not
even touched the subject: Malthus, Skarbek, Se-
nior, and James Mill. Others have only dealt
with it in a highly summary manner : Sismondi,
Rossi, Storch, Cherbuliez, Courcelle-Seneuil and
Stuart Mill, while treating the subject very briefly,
have yet pointed out and discussed the funda-
mental questions of finance. Adam Smith, con-
tinues M. Garnier, devoted to this subject a fourth
of his “Wealth of Nations.” J. B. Say has given
a like proportion of his “Treatise ’’ and of his
“Course” in political economy to the causes and
effects of the public consumption of wealth. He
did not, however, examine, as Smith had done,
the different kinds of taxes. Ricardo has entitled
his chief work, “The Principles of Political Econ-
omy and Taxation ”; but that which relates to
finance, proper, occupies no more than a fourth
Of his work. McCulloch has not treated of finan-
cial questions in his political economy, but has
discussed them in a separate treatise, giving to
them a very full consideration. Rau has, likewise,
treated separately that which M. Garnier calls
“this important branch of political economy.”
— The causes which have thus led to the exclu-
sion of finance from formal treatises on political
economy, or to its very slight and partial recogni-
tion therein, may be stated as follows: First, Ac-
cording to the most frequent classification of the
subject, the revenue of the state falls into that
one of the old-fashioned “departments’’ of polit-
ical economy, which is known as “consumption.”
The tendency of the writers of the present and
of the last generation has been to omit all consid-
eration of the consumption of wealth, whether as
to its objects or as to its effects. Secondly, The
revenue of the state falls outside the Sphere of
contract, which would be a sufficient reason for
omitting to take note of it, in the case of the
school of writers who make political economy to
be purely “the science of exchanges.” As Dr.
Sturtevant remarks, “The wages of government
are not determined by economic laws; it receives
whatever it demands. In some cases it takes the
position of a partner, and accepts for its compen-
sation a certain percentage of the profits; but
that share is not determined by an agreement
between the partners, but by the will of this one
partner.” Thirdly, and chiefly, considerations
purely political always enter in a great degree,
and often in a controlling degree, into the de-
cision of questions relating to the collection of
public revenue. The statesman, as financier, may
legitimately ask, not which is the best tax, or the
most economical mode of assessment, but which
is the most politic. He not only may, he must,
consult the temper and habits of his people. He
must consider the times and the circumstances,
REVENUE.
619
quite as heedfully as he does the normal operation
of economic laws. Even the special race-quality
imparted by descent must be respected in the col-
lection of public revenue. “A land tax,” wrote
Sir James Steuart, in the last century, “excites
the indignation of a Frenchman; an excise that
of an Englishman.” Thomas Jefferson observed
a corresponding difference in the susceptibilities
of the northern and the Southern portions of this
country, in his day. “In most of the middle and
southern states,” he says, “ some land tax is now
paid into the state treasury; and, for this purpose,
the lands have been classed and valued, and the
tax is assessed according to that valuation. In
these, an excise is most odious. In the eastern
states land taxes are odious; excises, less unpopul-
lar.” — M. de Parieu, in his monumental work on
“Taxation,” thus expresses a striking character-
istic difference between the Teutonic and the
Latin nations in enduring taxes on property and
income : “While countries inhabited by the pure
Germanic race, or by its principal branches, Ger-
many, Scandinavia, Great Britain and North
America, support almost universally taxes of this
kind, the financial history of the Neo-Latin peo-
ples has made us acquainted with but a small
number of isolated applications, temporary or
abortive, of such a rule of contribution. Even in
Switzerland, a country of mixed race, the field of
general taxes upon property and income appears,
with the exception of Geneva, to be confined with-
in the frontiers which circumscribe the German
race and language. This difference of moral
aptitude in relation to the taxes under discussion,
which appears in comparison of the Germanic and
the Latin races, whether from history or from
contemporary statistics, long since attracted the
attention of certain Italian publicists. Machia-
velli, Botero and Braggia have mentioned German
customs in this regard as exceptional. * * That
which characterizes the methods of applying gen-
eral taxes to property and income, is the neces-
sity of a certain degree of loyalty,”, patience, and
even of spontaneity,+ among the tax payers. “Is
it not,” continues M. de Parieu, “easy to under-
stand that, following the analogy of individuals,
some nations may present, relatively to others,
the character of greater sincerity, of a greater
disposition spontaneously to burden themselves,
and of a greater patience when in contempla-
tion of a right object? Is it inconsistent with
our observation of manners and morals to ac-
knowledge that certain populations possess, with
a temperament more cold, a stronger infusion of
that natural sense of justice, SO necessary in the
* Selbstschätzung, says M. Rau; self-taxation, an English-
man would say, according to the analogy of “self-govern-
Innent.”
+ In addition to the facts of self-āssessment, fully attested
as occurring in Geneva, Bremen and Holland, must be placed
to the credit of the morality of the Germanic peoples, those
very numerous acts of restitutions to the treasury, which
form what is in England termed “conscience money.” In
France the yield of reparations of this sort, though on the
increase, has never been large,
application of an uncome tax equally among the
contributors summoned to declare their fortunes,
and among the assessors charged with supervising
and correcting these declarations? I could not,”
he concludes, “assert that there is among the Ger-
manic peoples more of authority or of liberty than
among the Neo-Latin peoples. What seems cer.
tain is, that authority and liberty are there dis-
tributed and understood in a different manner.
he Germanic peoples appear to accept more easily
than do the Neo-Latins, authority coming close to
the individual, at the hearth of the family, in the
town or near at hand.”— It will readily appear
that differences in race aptitudes for taxation, such
as those indicated by M. de Parieu, may not only
control the forms of assessment Or contribution,
as between one community and another, but may
have power to appreciably affect the proportion
of the aggregate income of a community which the
treasury can command, whether for ordinary pub-
lic purposes or in the great exigencies of state. Of
two nations of equal wealth, one may, through
the stronger sense of justice native in its people,
through an excess of loyalty and spontaneity in
the support of the government, possess a fiscal
force twice or thrice that of the other. — It is not,
however, alone differences of a moral nature which
affect the relative fiscal force of communities.
Differences in the prevailing occupations of the
people, in the rapidity of circulation, and in the
distribution of wealth, irrespective of its aggre-
gate amount, may have important effects upon the
power of the treasury to secure contributions to
public uses. In a commercial or manufacturing
nation, where capitals are concentrated, and where
nearly the whole body of the annual product be-
comes the subject of exchange, perhaps is even
exchanged several successive times between the
hands of the producer and those of the consumer,
the government can command a far higher propor-
tion of the aggregate income of the people than
can be done in a purely agricultural state. — But
while considerations like the foregoing may prop-
erly enter to influence the views of the financier,
in matters which can hardly be termed matters of
detail, the essential subjection of the fiscal inter-
ests of the treasury to the economic interests of
the community, f can never safely be disregarded.
Mr. R. H. Patterson, in his “Science of Finance,”
justly says, paraphrasing in his final sentence
Burke's remark about justice as the great stand-
ing policy of nations, that “the statesman may,
for reasons such as have been intimated, deal with
the collection and disbursement of revenue On
methods somewhat different from those which the
strict application of economical principles would
require; but it must always be as a conscious de-
viation from a right rule. He must never go very
f Ajoutons que cºest par l'étude de Ka science économique
en général qu'il serait bon de commencer celle des finances
publiques. * * Mais, dira-ton, la solution des questions de
finances comporte divers points devue: le point de Vue écon-
omique, et les divers points de Vue, fiscal, politique et moral.
L'observation est exacte. Mais les raisons fondamentales.
sont d'ordre économique. (Jos. Garnier.)
620
REVENUE.
far from principles, or remain long away. Else,
his policy will prove no policy at all.” Mr. Pat-
terson adds, as justly as piquantly, “there are
many things in the world which have the knack
of being as broad as they are long; and this is pe-
culiarly the case with state finance.” — Taxes and
public revenue are commonly used as intercon-
vertible terms, and in popular speech, or for the
purposes of approximate statement, this is well,
enough. Yet for scientific purposes, or in any
careful survey of the fiscal history of a country,
or in a comparative statement of the fiscal re-
sources of two or more nations, the public revenue
may include something more than, perhaps some-
thing very far in excess of, the aggregate of all
sums received into the treasury as the result of
official assessment and of compulsory collection.
Among these may be named the sums received
by gift or voluntary contribution of citizens, the
value, known or estimated, of all prerogatives or
privileges of requisition or of purveyance, re-
specting services or supplies, together with a fair
rental of all domains, buildings or other property
occupied or used for public purposes. – The rev-
enue of France, for instance, during the present
year, when properly stated, will include, in addi-
tion to the actual receipts into the treasury, the
market value of the services rendered by some
hundreds of thousands of citizens of the republic,
as soldiers under the conscription act, over and
above that which the state actually pays as wages
to these involuntary servants. This last item is of
enormous consequence in all countries having a
compulsory military system. Indeed, this, which
by some has been called “the blood tax,” is by far
the greatest of all the taxes of modern times.
Were it necessary for France, Germany or Russia
to go into the market for labor, and pay wages
sufficient to induce men, to the number of its
present soldiery, to enter its service voluntarily,
the expenses of the government would be enor-
mously increased, probably to the result of early
fiscal bankruptcy. It is fairly matter of question
whether any one of the countries named could,
by the utmost exertion of the power of taxation,
short of producing universal revolt, raise money
enough to hire the services of its existing army.
Yet the market value of these services clearly be-
longs to the revenue of the state, whether those
services are obtained by payments out of the treas-
ury, or through an exertion of legal authority in
the form of conscription; while it is certain that
the cost of those services to the people, obtained
as they are by abruptly and violently withdrawing
from industry and trade that number of workers,
many of them of the higher grades of intelligence,
and occupying positions of responsibility, is vastly
greater than would be involved in obtaining an
equal number of equally good soldiers through
solicitation and voluntary enlistment. In like
manner, if the government of France exercises
rights of requisition or purveyance through offi-
cials, high or low, as to supplies, whether for peace
or war, the amount saved to the treasury thereby,
through avoiding purchase in an open market, is
properly to be included in an account of the pub.
lic revenue. In a word, the revenue of any state,
for any given year, is constituted of each and every
valuable thing which is, in that year, applied to
governmental purposes. – A classification of the
several principal Sources of public revenue has
long been a desideratum. No such scheme could
be free from objection, and many a scheme may,
in Some one respect, possess an advantage over
that scheme which is, as a whole, the best. The
following classification will be observed in this
article: Sources of Public Revenue. I. Voluntary
contributions. II. Public property, lucrative pre-
rogatives and state enterprise. 1, rent charges in
favor of the state, as the proprietor of all lands;
2, escheat; 3, fines and forfeitures for criminality
and delinquency; 4, tributes from colonies, de-
pendencies and conquered nations, including war
fines, requisitions and indemnities; 5, Sale of of-
fices, honors and titles; 6, domains (L'état capital-
'ste); 7, state enterprise (L’état entrepreneur). III.
Quasi taxes. 1, monopolies; 2, lotteries; 3, pur-
veyance of Supplies, and requisition of services;
4, fees; 5, Seigniorage on coin; 6, paper money.
IV. Taxation, in its various forms. Taxes may
be assessed, 1, on the basis of realized wealth,
commonly spoken of as capital; 2, on the basis of
annual income or revenue; 3, on the basis of fac-
ulty, or native and acquired power of production;
4, on the basis of expenditure, or the individual
consumption of wealth. Exemption from taxa-
tion may be claimed, 1, for noble and privileged
classes; 2, for clerical persons and religious orders;
3, for charitable and educational institutions; 4,
for the poorer classes of the community, either
through the omission from assessment of a certain
minimum income, or through an ascending Scale
of taxation upon higher incomes (progressivity in
taxation). Taxes may be collected, 1, in services;
2, in products; 3, in money. Taxes are commonly,
in discussion, divided as, 1, direct; 2, indirect.
This distinction, however, is of only very general
use, it being impossible to distribute the taxes act-
ually levied in any state, under these two heads,
without great confusion and much manifest error.
The French writers further divide direct taxes
into, 1, taxes de répartition, of which the produce
is certain and known in advance; 2, taxes de guo-
tité, of which the produce can not be known in
advance, and varies with external conditions. –
The following classification of taxes, made by M.
de Parieu, according to the objects they reach, or
at least upon which they are assessed, is believed
to be the most convenient and useful: 1. Les &m-
póts sur les personnes, ou capitations—Taxes upon
persons, or poll taxes; 2. Les âmpõts sur la richesse,
ou sur la possession des capitaua et revenues—Taxes
upon wealth, or upon the possession of capital or
income; 3. Les impôts sur les jou’ssances—Taxes
upon use or occupation [corresponding very close-
ly to the English assessed taxes on carriages, horses,
windows, lodgings, etc.]; 4. Les &mpôts Sur les con-
Sommations—Taxes upon consumption; 5. Les âm-
REVENUE.
621
pôts sur les actes—Taxes upon transactions [Sales,
etc.] Of these five classes, M. de Parieu remarks,
that the first three approximately conform to the
general definition of diréct taxes, the last two be.
ing indirect. Of the first group, taxes upon wealth,
and of the second group, taxes upon consumption,
are at once most characteristic and the most im-
portant. These constitute “the two poles of the
general system of taxation.”— Having offered the
foregoing classification of the sources of public
revenue, we will proceed to speak briefly of each.
— I. Voluntary Contributions. It is difficult for
the man of the present age to conceive of the state
as supported by voluntary contributions; yet not
only were these once, in theory, almost the sole
resource of the ruler, except through personal
services; but they, in fact, survive to this day, in
a few isolated communities, in the form of the
self-assessment of the citizen. To go no farther
back than the feudal days, in England, while the
chief military support of the kingdom was af-
forded by the muster of the vassals, it was the
fiction of the law, that, so far as aids and subsi-
dies were concerned, the tax payer made a volun-
tary offering to relieve the wants of the prince;
and that the promise of a tax bound only the
individual who made it. It was the practice of
bringing personal property and income under con-
tribution, which gave rise to the idea that taxation
and representation must go together, and caused
the formal grant of money. At the beginning of
the system of poor relief, in the early years of
Elizabeth, collections were taken in churches, and
each person was left to be the judge of what for
him constituted “a reasonable contribution.” —
The papal revenues, also, may perhaps be brought
under this head. The pope was by far the great-
est capitalist of the middle ages. The British par-
liament at one time declared that the contributions
made by their people to the pope were five times
as great as those made to the sovereign. — Adam
Smith cites Hamburgh, Basle, Zurich, Unterwald
and Holland, among the communities where the
self-valuation of the citizen was still, in his day,
accepted. Riesbeck, in his “Travels in Ger-
many,” says of the first named city, “some taxes
are voluntary, and the burghers have the right to
put what they think their quota into the purse,
which is shut, and the deputies dare not open
it in their presence.” Even within a few years
there have remained free cities in Germany and
Cantons in Switzerland, where the rule of volun-
tary contribution still subsisted in all its purity.
—II. Public Property, Lucrative Prerogatives and
State Enterprise. 1. Rent charges in favor of the
state, as the proprietor of all lands. Throughout
considerable portions of Asia and in Turkey in
Europe, the rent of land, paid to the state, fur-
nishes by far the greater part of the public reve-
nues. That the soil originally belonged to the
community or nation, private property in land
being, indeed, a comparatively modern institution,
and finding its justification only in political expe-
diency, is admitted by nearly all publicists of
authority. By vesting the title to the soil in in-
dividuals, the state Sacrifices that large revenue
resulting from the progressive enhancement of
the value of land, which would otherwise have
accrued to the treasury. It is equally beyond
question that all the advantages of the private
ownership of land might have been obtained,
while yet the state imposed fiscal charges and
military or political obligations which would have
secured for the community a considerable share
of that progressive enhancement of values. – The
proposition to reassert the right and interest of
the state in all the land which has become the
subject of individual ownership, was made by Mr.
John Stuart Mill, in the later days of his life, and
the programme for this substitution of rent for
taxation, with the arguments in its favor, will be
found in his later speeches and essays. Mr. Mill
pointed to the commutation of the feudal obliga-
tions of the English landowners, for the altogether
insufficient consideration of a tax of four shillings
in the pound upon the valuation of 1692, and also
to the sacrifice of the interests of the crown in the
lands of a portion of British India, by which the
“unearned increment” was allowed to pass into the
hands of individual proprietors, instead of being
reserved to the public treasury. Mr. Mill's practi-
cal proposition was to appraise all estates according
to their present market value, and thereafter to as-
sess them to the full amount of all enhanced value
which could not be shown to be due to applications
of labor and capital. To this he looked as a fiscal
resource which should relieve the community
from the greater part if not all of the burden of tax-
ation. More recently Mr. Henry George has pro-
posed, in his “Progress and Poverty,’” to assert
the right of the state, not only to all future increase
of value in the land, but to its present value, as-
serting that all grants of exclusive property in
land are and have always been void, and that the
proprietors of land are not even entitled to reserve
the value of their improvements. – 2. Escheat,
the principle, viz., that the state is the proprietor
of all estates, real or personal, to which individ-
ual titles or claims are lost. It will at once ap-
pear that the scope of this principle, from the
point of view of revenue, will widen or contract
in correspondence with the laws which regulate
the descent and bequest of property, and prescribe
the times and modes of proving claims, in which
respect some countries are far more liberal than
others. Under the feudal system. escheat con-
stituted a most important source of revenue. In
England the right of devising real property did
not exist, after the conquest, until the time of
Henry VIII.; and no small proportion of the lands
of the kingdom passed to the crown under the
operation of this principle. Modern Society, how-
ever, whether out of sympathy with the instincts
of property right,” or from a politic desire to
promote the spirit of accumulation, has given
continually wider and wider extension to the
* Sinclair, in his “History of the Revenue,” Stigmatizes
escheat as “a species of confiscation.”
622
REVENUE
power of bequest and to the principle of inher-
itance, until escheat, as a source of revenue, has
ceased to be of much importance. — In 1795
Jeremy Bentham published a notable tract entitled
“Escheat vs. Taxation,” in which that daring re-
former proposed an extension of the existing law
of escheat, “a law coeval with the very first ele-
ments of the constitution,” with a corresponding
limitation of the power of bequest. The intended
effect was “the appropriating to the use of the
public all vacant successions, property of every
denomination included, on the failure of near
relatives, will or no will, subject only to the power
of bequest, as hereinafter limited.” By “near
relatives” Bentham intends “such relatives as
stand within the degrees termed prohibited, with
reference to marriage.” Furthermore, in the case
of “such relatives” within the pale as are not only
childless, but without prospect of children, he
proposes that, instead of taking their share in
ready money, they should take only the interest
of it, in the shape of an annuity for life. As to
the latitude to be left to the power of bequest, he
says, “I should propose that it be continued in
respect to the half of whatsoever property would
be at present subject to that power.” Bentham
argues that the scheme he proposes for dispensing
with taxation by limiting the power of bequest
and restricting succession to near relatives, would
work no wrong. Hardship, in the distribution
of property, is in proportion to disappointment:
expectation thwarted. If distant relatives were
taught by the general provisions of the law that
they could not succeed, no expectations would
be excited, and such persons would suffer no
wrong, being simply put into the case of others
who have no rich distant relatives. Bentham’s
proposal received no special attention at the time;
and, except in the way of taxes upon successions
and bequests,” little progress has since been made
in the direction indicated; but it is probable that
among the earliest of the measures of a militant
and triumphant democracy would be the limita-
tion of the power of bequest and the restriction
of succession, each in the interest of the state, as
the proprietor of all estates to which individu-
al titles or claims may be lost. — 3. Fines and
forfeitures for criminality and delinquency. It
might be supposed, that, since government exists
largely for the protection of property and life, and
for the punishment of offenses against Society,
the cost of maintaining government and adminis-
tering justice might largely be thrown upon de-
linquents and criminals. In feudal times, fines
and forfeitures constituted a very important
Source of revenue to the crown. This was the
result of two causes. First, the relation of the
tenant to the lord was a personal One, and fail-
* By the revenue measures introduced by Mr. Gladstone
in 1853, the tax upon the direct succession of a child to a
parent was placed at 1 per cent. ; that upon the succession
of an entire stranger in blood, at 10 per cent. Intermediate
rates were fixed for successions within certain degrees of
consanguinity. If 10 per cent, why not 50?
ures in personal loyalty, although not rising to
what in the present day would be deemed crimes
against Society, were punished by heavy fines or
total forfeiture. Second, the crimes of those days
were largely political, and great offenders were
likely to be men of wealth and position who would
be fat subjects for amercement. The wars of
the roses, for example, were so fruitful of for.
feitures that a large proportion of the land of the
realm became the property of the crown. In the
present age, political crimes have become compara-
tively infrequent, and the criminal class are mainly
drawn from the poor. Hence, this branch of the
public revenue has shrunk to comparative insig-
nificance. Fines and forfeitures still pay a part
of the expenses of strictly judicial establishments,
especially in the lower or police courts, but they
add little to the general revenues of the state.
Even the labor of condemned criminals is sel-
dom found to be sufficiently remunerative to pay
the cost of their maintenance under ward. — 4.
Tributes from colonies, dependencies and con-
quered nations, including war fines, requisitions
and indemnities. “In all ages,” says Sir Erskine
May, “taxes and tribute have been characteristic
incidents of a dependency. The subject powers
of Asiatic monarchies, in ancient and modern
times, were despoiled by the rapacity of satraps
and pashas, and the greed of the central govern-
ment. The Greek colonies, which resembled
those of England more than any other dependen-
cies of antiquity, were forced to send contribu-
tions to the treasury of the parent state. Carthage
exacted tribute from her subject towns and ter-
ritories. The Roman provinces ‘paid tribute to
Caesar.” In modern times Spain received tribute
from her European dependencies, and a revenue
from the gold and silver mines of her American
colonies. It was also the policy of France, Hol.
land and Portugal to derive a tribute from their
settlements.” In our own day, Holland has
drawn a net revenue of £3,000,000 from the
island of Java, the natives being required to
cultivate defined portions of land in specified
crops. That compulsory cultivation used to in-
clude many crops; Subsequently, it was for a long
time confined to sugar and coffee; since 1880, as I
understand it, coffee has remained the sole crop
so cultivated. — I have quoted a passage from Sir
B. May, relative to the forced contributions of
colonies and dependencies: let me complete the
sentence. “...But England, satisfied with its colo-
nial trade, by which her subjects at home were
enriched, imposed upon them alone all the bur-
dens of the state.” This sentence expresses the
essential characteristic of the English system of
+ The extortions of the early kings of England, under
the pretense of administering justice, are very Strikingly
portrayed by Mr. Hume, in his “History.”
# Immense contributions were enforced by the Carthagin-
ians from the towns on the Libian-Phoenician coast. “At
one time,” says Mr. Grote, “immediately after the first Pu-
nic war, they took from the rural cultivators as much as one-
half their produce.” .
REVENUE.
623
dealing with colonies. It must not be supposed,
however, that the system was necessarily lighter
in the burdens it imposed than would have been
a system of taxation. The constraints which the
navigation acts of England”—designed to give to
British shippers and British merchants the profits
of the colonial trade—placed upon the energies of
those young and growing communities, were fre-
quently more galling and depressing than heavy
taxation would have been. Another incident of
the British colonial system in the past was patron-
age, affording, as that system did, a wide field for
the employment of the friends, connections and
political partisans of the home government. Un-
til the reform of the civil service this was of a real
and great fiscal value, being worth more to the
administration than an addition of millions to
the revenue would have been. Even now it is
asserted: that the Indian army is maintained and
employed quite as much for the imperial interests
of Great Britain as for the preservation of the
peace and unity of India; that the salaries of
British officials are there vastly greater than neces-
sary or desirable ; and that the construction of
immense systems of public improvements, rail-
ways, canals and irrigating works, at the expense
of India, has been controlled largely by the inter-
ests of British capitalists or by the demands of
British cotton spinners.-The Danish Sound dues,
“the most important transit duties in the world,”
until 1857, constituted a striking example of this
class of contributions. In the year named, these
duties were finally abolished, Denmark receiv-
ing 30,476,325 rix dollars in final commutation,
of which sum Great Britain paid a full third.
The United States subsequently joined in this
purchase of the rights of Denmark over the nav-
igation of the Baltic, having, at a much earlier
period of its national history, made successive
contributions to the revenues of the piratical Bar-
bary states, for the privilege of sailing the Medit-
erranean. — The principle of making the enemy,
as far as possible, pay the cost of war while in
progress, and exacting an indemnity Subsequently
for such expenses as could not be met by requisi-
tions and billeting, is of too wide historical usage
to require mention here. The application of that
principle is only limited by the power of belliger-
ents. After the treaty of 1842, the Chinese gov-
ernment was compelled to pay England sums
approaching thirty millions of dollars on account
of opium seized, and for the expenses of the
expedition. It was reserved for Germany, after
the war with France in 1870–71, to exact the
most gigantic war indemnity ever paid in the his-
tory of mankind. — 5. Still another source of
revenue is found in the sale of offices, honors and
* For the influence of these acts in the American colonies,
see Bancroft's History of U. S., vol. v., p. 265-6.
+ See the speeches of Rt. Hon. Henry Fawcett on succes-
sive Indian budgets. “India,” says Prof. Fawcett, “seems
too often to be looked upon as if she had been specially
created to increase the profits of English merchants, to
afford valuable opportunities for English youths, and to
give us a bountiful supply of cheap cotton.” -
titles.
The accounts of such sales under the Ro-
man empire, in the days of its decline; by the
popes throughout the middle ages; by the kings
of France, especially from Louis XII. to the time
of the revolution ; and in England, under the
Stuarts; form a very interesting chapter in the
history of finance; ; but space will not allow us
to enter upon it here. At times these sales were
mere acts of extortion by the Sovereign; at others
they amounted to little else than the sales of annu-
ities under the name of salaries attached to the
offices conferred ; at times these offices carried
privileges and opportunities by which the pur-
chaser might reimburse himself for his outlay,
whether through a monopoly, or through the right
to collect or disburse the public revenues, which
was a very common incident of these sales. –
6. Domains (L'état capitaliste.) Even under the
modern European principle of the private owner-
ship of lands, the state is, in all countries, the
possessor of larger or smaller domains, from
which a revenue, in money or produce, may be
derived, or which, while yielding no revenue in
form, serve public uses which would otherwise
require expenditures out of the treasury. M.
Leroy-Beaulieu, the editor of the Economiste Fram-
cais, author of an excellent work on “Finance,”
expresses the distinction between the property of
the state which is left to the enjoyment of indi-
viduals, yielding no revenue, and that which is
productive: the former he calls domaine public, and
the latter domaine privé de l'état. The former, he
says, is almost everywhere vastly greater than the
latter, and tends continually to increase; and he
makes this striking statement regarding the extent
of the property thus belonging to the state, given
up to public uses, without yielding a revenue to
the treasury: “In a country like France, it ap-
pears to us difficult to appraise at less than 300
millions of francs per annnm, that which is so
employed by the central government, the depart-
ments and the communes.” — The domains of the
state from which money or produce is derived,
make, of course, a much larger figure in the his-
tory of finance, though no more truly, as we said
at the beginning, constituting a part of the public
revenue. — In England the royal domains were,
at first, very ample. Even in the time of Edward
the Confessor it was said that the crown was pos-
sessed of 1,422 manors, besides other lands and
quit rents. The Norman conquest largely in-
creased the landed wealth of the sovereign. In
the reign of Henry V. this was augmented by the
appropriation of the alien priories, 110 in number.
Yet notwithstanding this large endowment, suc-
cessive alienations, sometimes in real exigencies
of the state, but more commonly wasteful and
often shameful in their origin, so reduced the
crown lands that the income of Henry VI. was
stated at but £5,000. In this impoverishment of
the crown, several general resumptions of grants
+ See especially the works of Savigny, Ranke and De
Tocqueville, passim.
624
REVENUE,
were authorized by parliament. The breach with
Tome, and the plunder of the religious establish-
ments by Henry VIII., placed vast wealth at the
disposal of that disinterested reformer ; but a
similar course of improvident and wasteful alien-
ations soon brought the income of the sovereign
again below his urgent necessities. In the seventh
year of James I. the entire land revenue of the
crown and of the duchy of Lancaster amounted
to only £66,870. James sold lands to the value of
£775,000, and left debts to an equal amount. —
Prodigal, however, as had been the alienation of
the crown lands under the Tudors and the Stuarts,
it was William III., the author of the modern
scheme of public finance, who did most to dis-
sipate the hereditary property of the crown; nor
is it likely that the two facts were without a vital
connection. William, foreseeing the vast fiscal
power of government, under the commercial as
contrasted with the feudal organization of soci-
ety, would seem to have regarded the traditional
revenues of England with contempt. At the end
of his reign, parliament, says Sir Erskine May,
“having obtained accounts of the state of the
land revenues, found that they had been reduced
by grants, alienations, incumbrances, reversions
and pensions, until they scarcely exceeded the
rent roll of a squire.”— Whatever William may
have thought of landed revenues, as compared
with the proceeds of excises and customs, his im-
mediate successors were not content with the sit-
uation, and an act was passed in the first year of
Anne's reign, whereby all future grants or leases
from the crown, for any longer term than thirty-
one years, or three lives, were declared void,
except with regard to houses, which may be
granted for fifty years. “The misfortune is,”
says Blackstone, “finaf, this act was made too
late, after almost every valuable inheritance in
possession of the crown had been granted away.”
“There are very few estates in the kingdom that
have not, at some period or other since the Nor-
man conquest, been vested in the hands of the
king by forfeiture, escheat or otherwise. For-
tunately for the liberty of the subject, this hered-
itary landed revenue, by a series of improvident
mismanagement, is sunk almost to nothing.” – It
was especially the contemplation of English ex-
perience in this respect, which drew from Adam
Smith that strong assertion of the impolicy of
seeking to derive revenue from public domains,
which is so often quoted in discussion of this sub-
ject: “The servants of the most negligent master
are better superintended than the servants of the
most vigilant sovereign.” “The crown lands of
Great Britain do not at present afford the fourth
part of the rent which could probably be drawn
from them if they were the property of private
persons. If the crown lands were more extensive,
it is probable they would be still worse managed.
* * In the present state of the greater part of
the civilized monarchies of Europe, the rent of
all the lands in the country, managed as they
probably would be, would scarce, perhaps, amount
to the ordinary revenue which they levy upon the
people even in peaceful times.” Perhaps had Dr.
Smith the opportunity to observe the able, com-
prehensive, frugal and solicitous Prussian admin-
istration of public estates to-day, he might find
reason to qualify the judgment expressed above.
— M. Cherbuliez, in his Science Economique, takes
strong ground against making public domains an
important element in the fiscal system. One re-
mark is especially notable. Domains do not, he
says, furnish an available resource in time of
emergency. On the whole, this remark is both
true and important; yet the recent examples of
Chili and Peru, with their guano deposits,” Egypt,
with the large sugar plantations of the khedive,
Honduras, with her precious forests of mahogany,
have shown that a tangible property of this kind
may sometimes afford a certain advantage for
quickly placing a large loan, for a state of Small
credit. — We have seen how the crown lands of
Lngland were wasted by improvident alienations.
Everywhere much the same story is told by the
shrunken domains of the state. What was once
the chief fiscal resource of many states, now re-
mains even an important item in the budgets of
but a few states. Russia, says M. Cherbuliez, is
almost the only state of modern Europe which
draws from its fiscal domain a notable share of
its revenue. Yet Prussia, Bavaria, Würtemberg
and Sweden still retain extensive and profitable
domains. The same might be said of the crown
lands of Hanover, if any one could find out to
whom they belong. — In the United States the
possession of vast areas of fertile territory by the
new government, was, at the beginning of Our
fiscal history, looked upon by almost all the states-
men of the republic as a resource to be cherished
and improved. Gradually, however, as told un-
der other titles of this work, the project of draw-
ingrevenue from the public lands was abandoned;
and for the past two generations it has been the
object of the government to promote the appro-
priation of the public lands by individual citizens,
on the payment of a merely nominal price, or of
merely the fees of registration. This policy was
announced by President Jackson, in his message
of 1832, in which he said, “It seems to me to be
our true policy that the public lands shall cease,
as soon as practicable, to be a source of revenue;
and that they be sold to settlers, in limited par-
cels, at a price barely sufficient to reimburse the
United States the expense of the present system,
and the cost arising under our Indian contracts.”—
In the respect of the proportion of revenue drawn
from state domains and state enterprise, M. Leroy
Beaulieu offers the following contrast between
England and Prussia: “The one has, so to speak,
no revenues from domains; what remains of Such
revenues constitutes but an infinitesimal part of
its vast budget. Moreover, it does not appear
desirous of creating such a revenue. The other
* M. Garnier states, that, in the budget of Chili guano
stands for a revenue of 114,000,000 francs, against 4,000,000
from customs, and 1,250,000 from all other Sources.
REVENUE.
625
nation, on the contrary, while relying upon taxa-
tion for the greater part of its revenue, neverthe-
less draws sums relatively enormous, in part from
the private estates of the crown, in part from in-
dustries which it carries on subject to competition,
and in part even from floating capital which it
has placed at home or abroad. This nation, more-
over, appears not the least in the world desirous
of abandoning this system; it seems, on the con-
trary, to wish to extend it.” Prussia, remarks
this excellent writer on finance, is agriculteur, ºn-
dustriel, entrepreneur de transports. The follow-
ing is his summary of the revenue of Prussia
from this general class of resources, during the
year under discussion :
e Prancs.
Domains, properly so called, i. e., estates under
Culture --------------------------------------- 35,531,000
Produce of forests------------------------------ 54,525,000
Gross revenue of the state railways------------- 173,500,000
Tolls upon roads-------------------------------- 5,720,000
Tolls upon canals------------------------------- 2,250,000
From the profits of the bank of Prussia--------- 7,507,000
Produce of the mint---------------------------- 1,290,100
|Produce of the state printing establishment----- 1,232,500
Produce of Schools of agriculture, etc.---------- 3,958,030
Produce of mines, factories and salt works be-
longing to the state--------------------------- 112,343,555
Total --------------------------------------- 397,857,185
Extending this comparison to the countries of
Europe generally, M. Maurice Block presents the
following instructive table :
Revenue—Percentage derived from
COUNTRIES. -
P9. Pirect |Indirect |..Qther |Total
mains. | Taxes. | Taxes. | Sources.
France --------------- 5.5 | 19.4 || 55.1 20.0 100
Prussia--------------- 44.0 | 19.0 | 37.0 |-------- 100
Great Britain--------- 0.5 13.2 75.3 11.0 100
Austria, Cisleithan----| 7.5 23.5 29.9 39.1 100
Austria, Transleithan-| 3.1 55.1 20.4 21.4 100
Bussia----------------| 14.2 11.8 45.4 28.6 100
Italy ----------------- 2.6 || 30.0 28.4 39.0 100
— III. We reach, now, the class of public reve-
nues which are derived from Sources which we
have indicated by the term quasi taa!es. The dis-
tinction between these sources of revenue and
taxes proper, on the one hand, or certain lucrative
prerogatives, on the other, is not always clearly
marked; yet, in general, it is believed that the
classification adopted is a convenient one. Under
this general title we note the following: 1. Mo-
nopolies. These have played a most important
part in the history of public revenues, and, in
spite of the spirit of the age, which is strongly
opposed to exclusive privileges of production or of
sale, still form a prominent feature in the budget
of many of the most progressive nations of Eu-
rope. Monopolies may be commercial, industrial
or financial. The distinction between the monop-
olies of the past and those of the present day is
very marked. Formerly, monopolies were grant-
ed, for the profit of the government, to persons
or corporations, to carry on a vast variety of op-
159 VOL. III. — 40
erations, great and small alike,” most of which
were susceptible of individual management. —
The study, not of finance but of political econo-
my (for the distinction is one important to be ob-
served), has freed industry and trade from monop-
olies of the order of those of the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries. The monopolies of to-day
rest upon a few great industries, carefully selected
for their fiscal capabilities; and these, by prefer-
ence, such as naturally tend toward monopoly,
for example, banking or railway traffic. A few
articles of manufacture of exceptional “richness”
as the subjects of monopoly, Such as opium, to-
bacco, salt and matches, have been hit upon by
the governments of several European countries.
The manufacture of tobacco is a state monopoly
in France, Italy, Spain and Austria. Even the
imperious will of Prince Bismarck has, however,
failed to introduce this monopoly into the fiscal
system of the German empire. The government
monopoly of this article was established in France
in 1674. During the revolution, under the power-
ful impulse experienced toward the removal of
all restrictions upon industry and society, the con-
stituent assembly abolished the monopoly, and
threw open the manufacture to competition; but
sought still to retain the revenue previously de-
rived from this source, by imposing a requirement
of licenses for the manufacture. This measure
was followed by the rapid diminution of receipts;
and in 1810 Napoleon restored the monopoly, con-
ferring upon the régie the combined rights of the
purchase of tobacco in the leaf, and of the manu-
facture and sale of the article for consumption. In
1864 the gross receipts were, in francs, 220,000,000,
and the expenses of administration, 66,000,000; net
receipts, 154,000,000 francs. In 1877 the gross re-
ceipts had risen to 312,000,000 francs. – A most
instructive lesson in finance is furnished by the
recent experience of the government of France
in enforcing the monopoly of the manufacture of
matches, the government having been completely
baffled, in its earlier efforts, through the ease of
illicit manufacture in the case of this article, noth-
ing being required for the purpose but “a small
quantity of phosphorous paste and a bundle of
wood.” The student of fiscal science will be well
repaid by reading the Paris correspondence of the
“London Economist” on this subject, extending
through 1874,1875 and 1876.-2. Lotteries. These

* Thus, Brodie, referring to the soap monopoly, constitut-
ed by Charles I. of England, says: “Almost every article of
ordinary consumption, whether of manufacture or not, was
exposed to a similar abuse : salt, starch, coals, iron, wine,
pens, cards and dice, beavers, pelts, bone-lace, etc., meat
dressed in taverns, tobacco, wine casks, brewing and distill-
ing, lampreys, weighing of hay and straw in London and
Westminster, gauging of red herrings, butter casks, kelp
and Seaweed, linen cloth, rags, hops, buttons, hats, gutstring,
Spectacles, combs, tobacco pipes, etc., Saltpetre, gunpowder,
in short, articles down to the sole gathering of rags, were all
under the fetters of monopolies, and consequently deeply
taxed.” Of Queen Elizabeth's system of monopolies Hume
remarks that, had it been continued, the England of his day
would have contained as little industry as Morocco or the
coast of Barbary.
626
REVENUE.
only require to be mentioned, as a source of reve-
nue largely made use of in the past by nearly all
governments, and still constituting a not unim-
portant feature of the budgets of many countries.
“The profit which the public draws from lotter-
ies,” wrote Hamilton, “may be considered as a tax
on the spirit of gaming, and added to the amount
of other taxes.” While lotteries afford a most ef-
fective means of securing revenue in the immediate
instance, there can be no question that, in their ulti-
mate effect, they reduce the fiscal capabilities of a
people, by discouraging patient and steady indus-
try, and by weakening the instincts of frugality
and abstinence.—3. Another quasi tax, once wide-
ly in exercise, but now restrained and confined,
and in almost all civilized states wholly discontin-
ued, except in the event of warlike Operations, is
purveyance, defined by Blackstone as the “right
enjoyed by the crown, of buying up provisions
and other necessaries, by the intervention of the
king's purveyors, for the use of his royal house-
hold, at an appraised valuation, in preference to
all others, and even without consent of the owner;
and also of forcibly impressing the carriages and
horses of the subject to do the king's business on
the public roads, in the conveyance of timber,
baggage and the like, however inconvenient to the
proprietor, upon paying him a fixed price.” “A
prerogative,” adds the commentator, “which pre-
vailed pretty generally throughout Europe during
the scarcity of gold and silver, and the high valu-
ation of money consequential thereupon.” — 4.
Another mode of raising a revenue, which par-
takes largely of the nature of a tax, without bear-
ing its form, is through the exaction of fees for
stated or occasional services, performed by the
agents of the state. The mention of fees brings
up, an illustration of what was said at the begin-
ning of this article regarding the difficulty of com-
paring the revenues of different states. Take the
matter of tolls upon bridges and roads. In one
community, travel is free; the great cost of main-
taining this service goes into the budget of ex-
penditures; and the amount to be collected in
taxes is by just so much increased. In another,
perhaps an adjacent, community, transport and
transit pay tolls, which are employed to maintain
the bridges and roads in repair, to pay interest on
the cost of construction, and perhaps also to ac-
cumulate a sinking fund for the final discharge of
the principal Sum; and the tolls so paid do not
enter at all into the budget. In the same way the
expenses of judicial proceedings and of the ad-
ministration of justice may be met out of the gen-
eral treasury, in monthly or quarterly salaries,
or may be paid, in minuter portions, by individ-
ual suitors. According as the one or the other
method prevails, the apparent receipts and expen-
ditures of the state will be increased or diminished,
without regard to the real burden resting upon the
community. The earlier abolition of tolls in the
northern than in the southern states of the Amer-
ican Union, in England than in Ireland, for ex-
ample, is a fact which no student of comparative
revenue could safely leave out of account. — The
question of the equity or expediency of judicial
fees may be studied with amusement and profit,
in the vigorous writings of Jeremy Bentham. Al-
most in the degree in which communities advance
in civilization, are roads and bridges made free
to travel; and the expenses of their construction
and maintenance assumed by the state, instead of
being charged upon the individuals using them. —
5. Coinage.” Coinage has always been one of the
most cherished attributes of sovereignty the world
over. Of India, Dr. Hunter says: “Little poten-
tates, who, in every other respect, acknowledged
allegiance to Delhi, maintained their independent
right of coining. As it was the last privilege to
which fallen dynasties clung, so it was the first to
which adventurers, rising into power, aspired.
While the Mahrattas were still mountain robbers,
they set up a mint; and in 1685 the East India
company, at a period when it had only a few
houses and gardens in Bengal, intrigued for the
dignity of striking its own coin.” – But it was
not only the right of striking the coin which kings
asserted for themselves. The right of debasing the
coin, was, says Hallam, “a flower of the crown.”
The imposition known as moneyage, after the Nor-
man conquest of England, was a tax of one shil-
ling paid every three years by each hearth in the
kingdom specifically to induce the king not to use
his prerogative in debasing the coin. By the char-
ter of Henry I. this imposition was abolished, but
not with any impeachment of the right of the
crown to debase the coin at its pleasure. The an-
tiquarian, Ruding, states that, at one period in the
reign of Edward IV. the Seigniorage on gold
money was above 13 per cent. In France the de-
basement of the coin, under the royal prerogative,
was carried to a far greater extent. The seignior-
age exacted by John II. rose at times, it is stated,
to three-fifths, changing, says Le Blanc, almost
every week, and sometimes oftener. Seigniorage,
to the extent of the cost of rendering bullion into
coin, has received the approval of almost all econ-
omists, from Adam Smith down; yet the English
government has, since 1666, coined gold of full
value free of charge. That government has, how-
ever, since 1816, exacted a heavy seigniorage on
its silver coin, which is legal tender in only a lim-
ited amount. Such a seigniorage on the smaller
coin of a country affords a proper souree of rev-
enue, either to cover the expense of minting the
principal coin, wherever the English system of
gratuitous coinage is adopted, or to be brought
into the treasury, for the general purposes of gov-
ernment. — 6. The issue of paper money. T’aper
money is money in respect to which Seigniorage is
carried out to the full nominal value of the piece.
Instead of taking out, say 1 per cent., to cover the
cost of coinage; instead of taking out, Say, 10
per cent., as tribute to the sovereign, the entire
amount of bullion is abstracted, and a paper sign,
* The regulation of weights and measures in England was,
until 11 and 12 Wm. III. (c. 20) conducted to Secure a profit
to the State.
REVENUE.
627
token or promise is substituted. — The issue of
paper money having legal-tender power, offers a
resource to government which has always been
found most tempting in periods of great national
exigency. Provided the circulation at the out-
break of a war, for instance, consisted of metal
money, it would be possible for the government
to issue paper to the same denominative amount,
replacing the gold or silver in the circulation,
whereupon the metal could be exported to buy
goods and supplies abroad. According to Ricardo's
doctrine of money, the paper, so issued, would
not, so long as it did not exceed the full denomin-
ative amount of the metal money replaced, neces-
sarily become subject to depreciation. Thereafter,
the advantage to government would be limited to
the profit of a forced loan, without interest. Dur-
ing the war of the revolution the continental con-
gress had recourse to this expedient. “The United
States,” says Dr. Ramsey, “for a considerable
time derived as much benefit from this paper cre-
ation of their own, though without any fixed funds
for its support or redemption, as would have re-
sulted to them from the gift of as many Mexican
dollars.” In 1862–4 the United States issued sev-
eral hundred millions of dollars, in payment for
services or supplies, of which it enjoyed the use
without payment of interest until 1879. The
value of the use of that amount of capital, for that
term of years, was, in effect, levied upon the peo-
ple of the United States, by a species of irregular
and doubtless very mischievous taxation. — The
issue of paper money without legal-tender power,
its circulation to be secured by the offer of gov-
ernment to receive it in payment of taxes, and to
redeem it on demand, is quite a different thing.
This is not oper, to any grave economical objec-
tions. Under the title of treasury notes, such is-
sues frequently took place in the fiscal history of
the United States, long before the exigencies of
the war of secession caused the issue of the legal-
tender “greenbacks.”— IV. Taa’ation, in its Wa-
Tious Forms. Public contributions may be ex-
acted in three ways: inservice, in products, or in
money. 1. By services. This was the original
form of taxation, and corresponds closely to the
ideal tax upon faculty, as distinguished from the
tax upon income, upon realized wealth or capital,
or upon expenditure. In the early history of
Greece and Rome the citizen served his country
in the army, as a matter of direct personal obliga-
tion, irrespective of payment. The custom of pay-
ing the soldiery was not introduced into Athens
until the age of Pericles; and did not become gen-
eral throughout Greece for more than a generation
afterward. It was not until the siege of Weji that
the practice was introduced into the Roman ar-
mies. After the downfall of the Roman empire,
the institution of the feudal system created a na-
tional militia which was adequate to wars carried
on with the lance, the sword, the pike and the
crossbow. The introduction of gunpowder was
soon followed by the creation of mercenary armies,
and by the conversion of the military obligation
of the mass of citizens into a fiscal obligation for
the support of those armies. The historian Robert-
son attributes this general change in Europe to the
long wars waged by the powers which disputed
the mastery of Italy. — Curiously enough, within
the present century, and especially within the last
half of the century, we have seen the obligation
of personal service revived and enforced upon a
scale which dwarfs all precedent instances in his-
tory. The legions of Rome were but a handful
to the hosts which are now kept permanently
under arms or hourly subject to call from head-
quarters. Almost universally, the great powers
which are prepared to dispute the Supremacy of
|Burope, and the smaller nations that live in ap-
prehension of being overwhelmed by their gigan-
tic neighbors, have abandoned, as too costly and
too dilatory, the attempt to keep up armies by a
system of voluntary enlistment, and have resorted
to the rule of universal personal obligation. Eng-
land stands almost alone, to-day, in maintaining
the system of mercenary soldiership. Within the
past eighteen years the “blood tax * has grown to
be the greatest tax levied in the world. “It is com-
puted,” wrote Mr. Hume, a century ago, “that in
all European nations the proportion between sol-
diers and people does not exceed 1: 100.” Accord-
ing to M. le Faure, the armies of Europe, on a
war footing, amounted, in 1875, to 9,333,000, the
immediately disposable forces of the German em.
pire, alone, being 2,800,000. — The difference be-
tween the cost of armies maintained on the com-
pulsory principle and those kept up by recruiting,
is a tax which makes no figure in the budget, and
does not enter into the accounts of receipt and ex-
penditure. Yet it is a tax often of the most dis-
tressing character. Indeed, the opinion was ex-
pressed in the beginning of the present article,
that not one of the great military nations of Eu-
rope could, by the utmost exertion of its fiscal
powers, support its existing army if it were com-
pelled to go into the market for labor and hire the
services it now commands. This element is rapidly
increasing the difficulty of ascertaining the com-
parative cost of government, for it is eminently
characteristic of taxes by personal service that
their real value can never be ascertained. M. Gar-
nier speaks of impôts tout à fait latents, quº né Yap-
portent riem au fisc et quº m'en pèsent pas moëns Sur
les populations. Such, eminently, is the obligation
of military service. Of course the weight of it,
measured by the loss it inflicts, will vary great-
ly according to the occupations of the people,
whether engaged in manufactures and commerce,
or in agriculture; according to the severity with
which military requirements are enforced, and pen-
alties for delinquency exacted; according to the
spirit which presides over headquarters, and passes
down to animate commanders and staff. Even in
a purely agricultural community how great a dif-
ference will be made by a call to field manoeuvres
ten days before, or ten days after, harvest;” or by
* Baron Riesbeck, in his travels through Germany in the
muddle of the last century, thus speaks of the army of the
628
REVENUE.
the requirement of brigade and division evolu-
tions, instead of company drill !—While, thus,
one primitive form of tax by personal service has
recently sprung into unexampled importance, an-
other, Once of vast extent, has sunk almost out of
the fiscal system of Europe. This is the road tax.
“Up to the reign of Louis XV.,” says De Tocque-
ville, ‘‘the highroads were not repaired at all,
or were kept in repair at the cost of the state and
of the roadside landowners; it was at that period
that the plan of keeping them in repair at the ex-
pense of the peasantry was commenced. It seemed
So excellent a mode of securing good roads with-
out paying for them, that in 1737 a circular of the
Comptroller general applied it to the whole of
France. Thenceforth, proportionately to the ex-
tension of trade and the increased desire for good
roads, corvées were extended and increased. In
Ceasing to be seigniorial and becoming royal, cor-
0ées were gradually applied to all public works.
In 1719 they were exacted for the construction of
barracks. ‘The parishes must send their best
workmen,” said the ordinance, ‘and give up all
Other work for this.’ Corvées were also exacted
for the conveyance of convicts to the galleys, and
of beggars to charitable institutions, and for the
transport of military baggage when troops were to
be moved from station to station.” — Turgot gives
a pitiful account of the burden of this exaction in
connection with the removal of troops. “The
distance to be traversed is,” he says, “often five,
six and sometimes ten or fifteen leagues. Three
days are consumed for the journey and the return.
The sum allowed is not one-fifth the value of the
labor. These corvées are almost invariably re-
Quired in the summer, during harvest time. The
oxen are almost always overdriven, and often come
home sick. The work is done in the most disor-
derly manner; the peasantry are continually a prey
to the violence of the soldiery. Officers habitually
exact more than the law allows; they sometimes
compel farmers to yoke saddle horses to carts,
whereby the animals may be seriously lamed. Sol-
diers will insist on riding in the carts which are
already heavily laden; and, in their impatience at
the slow gait of the oxen, will prick them with
their Swords, while, if the farmer complains, he is
roughly handled.” — The above affords an excel-
lent illustration of the remark already made, that
the weight of taxes by personal service can never
be truly estimated. Were the requisition, in an
agricultural region, to fall upon a time when men
and teams would otherwise be idle, the actual net
great Frederick: “All the military regulations have these
two ends in view: that of preventing the improvement of
agriculture from suffering by the number of troops, and that
of making them subservient to the circulation of money.
For these purposes the annual reviews always take place at
the end of the year, when fewest hands are wanted for the
purposes of agriculture. Each regiment has a peculiar part
of the country assigned it for recruiting, and in that, or near
it, are commonly its standing quarters. By this means the
troops are not only easily got together when they are wanted,
but the father has always his son in the neighborhood to help
him to improve his land; and, at the annual review time,
the latter has not far to go to join his regiment.”
sacrifice would be small. If at an inconvenient
Season, the greatest waste and confusion may en-
Sue; while in a manufacturing or commercial com-
munity, it is wholly impossible to compute the
mischief that may be effected by the slightest re-
guirement of personal attendance and personal
service. —In the United States the road tax is still
“worked out ’’ to a certain extent, with the gen-
eral result of bad roads; but in all the more pros-
perous communities the change to labor hired and
paid out of the general treasury has been effected.
–2. The second mode of paying taxes is in prod-
uce, or, as we say, “in kind.” Mr. Merivale thus
describes the Roman system of revenue, in this
respect. “In many parts of the empire it was
most convenient to make the payment in kind,
and the government was long in the habit of
accepting large consignments of corn and other
raw produce, in place of current coin. These
abundant stocks of provisions never wanted con-
sumers while the armies of the republic were
maintained on Roman soil; and the urban pop-
ulation, we may believe, were always ready to
receive the overflowings of the fiscal granaries,
whether government chose to dole them out at
a cheaper rate, or to dispense them gratuitously.
We may conjecture that the fatal institution of
regular distributions of grain originated in this
source. The revenues of the state could only
be paid in kind; and the ample stocks thus
received must sometimes either be given away
or thrown away.” — On this system Gibbon re-
marks: “In the primitive simplicity of Small
communities, this method may be well adapted
to collect the almost voluntary offerings of the
people; but it is at once susceptible of the ut-
most latitude and of the utmost strictness, which,
in a corrupt and absolute monarchy, must intro-
duce a perpetual contest between the power of
oppression and the arts of fraud.” – In all the
English-American colonies this form of contribu-
tion to public uses was largely employed. In Mas-
sachusetts and Connecticut, for example, taxes
might be paid in corn or rye, at fixed rates, or in
cattle or beaver; in Maryland and Virginia, tobac-
co was received. During the war of the revolu-
tion, congress, for a brief period, upon the failure
of the continental paper money, instituted the
system of contribution in kind. On Feb. 25, 1780,
it was resolved that the states should be called
upon for specific supplies, beef, pork, flour, Corn,
hay, tobacco, salt, rum, and rice, to be credited at
certain fixed rates to the states by which they were
furnished. By March, 1781, the scheme of spe-
cific supplies had been found so unmanageable
that it was abandoned. — Throughout eastern Eu-
rope, in Russia, Hungary, and even in Germany,
down to a very recent date, if not to the present
time, payments in kind, especially for the Support
of the army and the church, have formed no in-
considerable portion of the contributions of the
peasantry. Mr. Banfield, in his excellent work on
the “Organization of Industry,” remarks that in
Sweden the number of barrels of meal paid away
REVOLUTION.
629
as salaries still “figure in the budget.” Mr. Ban-
field calls attention to the consideration that the
system of contributions in kind presupposes an
absence of all means of easy and effective com-
munication. “So long as society remains in this
state, in which, as all produce is consumed at
home, a produce taa, is identical with a taa, on con-
sumption; there is no choice but to draw direct-
ly on this fund for taxation.” — In Turkey, to-
day, the onerous taxes of the government, which
are, in reality, rent charges by the state as the
proprietor of all lands, are largely collected in
kind; and administered as the Turkish system
is, with despotic brutality, over a helpless pop-
ulation, it constitutes one of the most important
causes of the misery which there prevails. The
peasant, forbidden to remove the produce from
the soil until the officers of the government have
made their inspection, and satisfied themselves
of the amount to which the state is entitled, may
see his whole harvest rot in the fields while the
agents of the treasury are making their leisure-
ly rounds. – The true view of the economical
relations of contributions in kind seems to be
that intimated by Gibbon. When such a sys-
tem grows naturally up among a people in a
somewhat primitive condition of society and in-
dustry, and is maintained and administered, in
good faith and good feeling, by officers coming
from the people and responsible to the people,
it may be, not only unobjectionable, but posi-
tively beneficial, as, under similar circumstances,
the payment of taxes in personal service, and in-
deed, for that matter, as the use of truck pay-
ments between master and workmen, may be.
But, on the other hand, the truck system, the sys-
tem of contribution by personal service, and the
system of taxes in kind, may, under different con-
'ditions, be made the means of the most monstrous
exactions, far transcending the capabilities of
money taxes, in the respects of hardship and in-
justice. — 3. The third and now usual mode of
paying taxes is in money, the contribution of each
individual being determined according to some
mode of assessment. In its ultimate effect, how-
£ver, it should never be forgotten that every tax
is a requisition by the state upon the services of
its citizens. If money is taken, it is only as the
most convenient form (convenient to the state, or
to the citizen, or to both) of obtaining services and
products; and products are, in the last analysis,
embodied Services. And in the same connection
We may add the remark of M. Garnier, that it is
an error, which is at Once gross and widely spread,
to suppose that the state, the moral personifica-
tion of the body of citizens, acting through men
Charged to perform public functions and to min-
ister to public needs, can possess resources trans-
Cendental, inexhaustible, or, indeed, any resources
Whatsoever, other than those of its citizens, any
resources beyond the share it takes of their for-
tunes and of the products of their industry and
labor. — Inasmuch as Mr. Wells discusses, under
its appropriate title, the principle of TAxATION,
this paper on PUBLIC REVENUE properly comes
here to a close. -
FRANCIS A. WALKER.
REVOLUTION. The word revolution is, in
its political signification, so peculiar to the French
language, that other languages adopt it without
any modification, in default of being able to find
a suitable equivalent. The Latin term, which it
reproduces phonetically, has never had the same
meaning; and the course of things subject to an
order of successive changes, as the revolution of
the stars, implies a regularity and a kind of pre-
disposition which do not appear to be a necessary
condition of political revolutions. The latter, or
the changes which take place in public affairs,
differ considerably in importance, in extent and
in duration, as in their form, their object and their
result; but they have generally the characteristic of
carrying a certain disturbance into the established
order of things, and in our day this disturbance has
become a trait sufficiently prominent and grave,
for the name of revolution to be applied almost
exclusively to political changes in which violence
has played a part.—We must then almost always,
in speaking of revolutions, make a distinction be-
tween the times preceding and following the
French revolution. Before that event, which has
become, so to speak, the type with which all
others called by the same name are compared,
people understood indistinctively by revolutions,
either accidental and partial changes in the course .
of affairs, which all more especially depend on
the will of individuals, or the profound and gen-
eral changes which are brought about by time and
the inclinations of the public, and which resemble
the dénouement or at least the catastrophe of a long
drama, in which neither incidents nor characters
have been lacking. It is in the former sense that
Montesquieu speaks when he says: “Revolutions
occur every ten years in France.” He evidently
designates by these words the capricious changes
caused by individual influences and temporary
embarrassment in a government in which neither
institutions nor characters have any stability.
These frequent changes are more particularly met
with in absolute monarchies and pure democra-
cies. Montesquieu adopted the second meaning,
and expressed a different thought, when he wrote
these lines: “Many centuries are sometimes neces-
sary to pave the way for changes. Events ripen,
and lo! the revolution breaks forth. Such are the
revolutions of empires upon which great minds
love to meditate, and which are the principal
subject of the political part of Bossuet's “Dis-
course on Universal History.” When we consider
them methodically, connecting them with each
other, we cause to enter into the general idea of a
revolution the idea of a certain order which pop-
ular language seems to exclude from it. How-
ever contingent may be the events in which hu-
man activity plays the chief part, there are in
nature and in the destiny of man general causes,
unceasingly renewed, which in the long run,
630
REVOLUTION.
combine to produce general effects susceptible of
being foreseen in their aggregate, or at least of
being explained by the sagacity of the statesman,
of the publicist and of the historian; and these
real facts appear, after they have been accom-
plished, impressed with a stamp of a relative ne-
cessity which is nothing but the force of things,
that is to Say, the natural bond between causes
and their effects. But among these causes it must
never be forgotten that the principal one, on this
earth of ours, will always be that free cause called
man. — But it is hard to give a date in history to
revolutions as thus understood. For their origin
is in the depths of the past, and in this sense one
might say that they are always preparing and
never finished, However, a distinction has been
made, and rightly so, between the, so to speak,
perpetual revolution which is the slow work of
ages, and the distinct manifestations, the special
crises which occur in the history of peoples, and
which attest in a palpable manner the work of
time and the condition to which the course of
ages carries powers, laws and customs, or minds
and things. Then, events having ripened, some
incident, a personal mistake, a fortuitous fancy,
a profound scheme, in short, a determination of
the will of individuals or of the masses, provokes
a serious change in the state which concerns either
the government or Society, and transforms one or
the other in a lasting manner. It was outbursts of
this kind which men have in mind when they speak
of the Dutch, English or American revolution.
These names designate various limited series of
facts sufficiently connected with each other easily
to form a harmony, and which can be connected
with direct causes, the date of which is assign-
able. We can scarcely conceive of this sort of
revolution without the intervention of force, act-
ing outside the law. The news so often received
in our time of a revolution accomplished at a
given moment upon a point of the inhabited
globe, suggests immediately the idea of a more
or less rapid change, effected either in the gov-
ernment, or in society, and in which violence,
or the threat of it, has not been wanting, The
same change, lawfully effected, would be called
a reform. — It is this intervention of force, al-
most inevitable in a trial of this kind, this char-
acter of illegality and violence, which makes
all revolution a very grave matter for both the
conscience and the reason. Even when arising
from serious causes, a revolution is always a
formidable and extreme measure, which should
be neither lightly undertaken, easily accepted,
nor blindly amnestied, no matter what the object
of it, were it even the restoration of order or
that of liberty. These coups d'état, even when the
work of a nation, are, in internal politics, what
war is in international law; and the citizens or the
powers who hazard a revolution without necessity
or justice, incur the same responsibility as the
authors of a war which is neither just nor neces-
sary. Independently, then, of the lawfulness of
the end, the first and absolute condition of every
political undertaking, the use of force, constitutes
the dubious point in all questions of war or of
revolution. The nature, the duration, the inten-
sity, the success of a means odious in itself and
only exceptionally licit, should be well weighed
before solving the problem which is imposed upon
whomsoever intends to decide the fate of men by
arms. – The part played by force in all revolu-
tions has made its name suspicious to a large
number of upright and dispassionate minds, of
whose scruples and weaknesses parties and powers.
often take advantage. It is thus that a certain
School has striven to use this abstract expression
of revolution in a bad sense. We often read that,
Such or Such a cause, such or such an enterprise,
would succeed if revolution does not meddle with it.
This designedly equivocal form of speech tends
to decry with good citizens a certain aggregate of
ideas and sentiments which brought about the
liberal revolutions of which this age has afforded
so many examples. At bottom it is intended, un-
der the name of revolution to proscribe the so-
called principles of 1789, that is to say, of the
revolution of July 14th, in France. This lan-
guage is a mask which must be torn away. If,
On the contrary, the only object be to put people
on their guard against violence in the passions.
and the acts which is too frequently the accom-
paniment and the ruin of revolutions, it is not
these latter principles which are to be condemned
en masse, but the revolutionary Spirit. This last
epithet, invented by the English and the Ameri-
cans, and which is used among them in a neutral
sense as the adjective of the noun revolution, has,
with the French, hardly any but an odious sense.
The revolutionary spirit may thus continue to be
understood as a spirit which seeks revolutions
without scruple, without measure and without
choice. As the dictatorial spirit differs from the
governmental spirit, and the soldierly spirit from
the warlike, so should the liberal spirit be distin-
guished from the revolutionary spirit. The first
dreads revolutions, labors to avoid them, and has
recourse to them only in the last extremity; the
second seeks them, paves the way for them; it
commences with them, and offers to itself as an
end what is only a last resort. These distinc-
tions, always ignored, should be always insisted
on and constantly called to mind. Thus, in po-
litical history, we must distinguish the revolu-
tion of the ages, or that long life of humanity,
sown with innumerable events which conduct it,
as it were, from station to station toward an un-
known goal; then, the changes in the divisions
of universal society, or in the civil and moral
constitution of special political Societies, changes
which are brought about in the course of centuries,
and which are called revolutions; then again we
must distinguish those revolutions which are but
the crises of the chronic condition which gives a
new aspect to affairs, or those abrupt changes, the
work of an accidental will or of a fortuitous cir-
cumstance. In short, for nearly ninety years,
since the era opened by the French revolution,
REVOLUTION.
631
the word revolution designates more especially
such of these reformatory changes as have for
their object the progress of liberty and equality.
The reactions of which they are often the cause
are revolutions in an inverse sense, and are often,
for this reason, called counter-revolutions. A
revolution lawful in its aim, just in its principles,
moderate in its acts, happy in its results, and dura-
ble in its work, is the political ideal which the
nineteenth century seems to be pursuing.
CHARLES DE RíMUSAT.
REVOLUTION, The (IN U. S. HISTORY), the
name commonly given in the United States to that
which is elsewhere called the American revolu-
tion, 1775–83. — I.: UNTIL 1760. The imperial
development of the British constitution was for
centuries very steady. The first strain upon it
came from the conquest of Ireland. Wales and
Scotland were tacitly or formally absorbed in the
kingdom of Great Britain, in which the parliament
had fairly defined rights: Ireland remained a for-
eign and allied or subject kingdom, in which the
British parliament had all the rights which it
could succeed in maintaining. The result was
the genesis of the idea that the British parliament
was in some sense an imperial parliament, with
undefined power to legislate for those portions of
the empire which were outside of its original
jurisdiction. — English colonization in America
brought with it a far more severe strain, for which
the British constitution was totally unprepared.
A new order of things, the indefinite extension
of the empire, was to be provided for; and un-
fortunately the task of providing for it was as-
sumed by a legislative body whose constituents
and members were equally purchasable in open
market, and were equally indifferent to any con-
sideration except present interest. To these the
grand idea of an imperial parliament, clothed by
the lofty patriotism of Burke and Chatham in
language well worthy of it, meant only the op-
portunity to escape part of the burden of present
taxation by transferring it to the colonies. They
undertook to make an every-day matter of that
which Burke and Chatham would have reserved
to meet some overmastering emergency; and they
lost the colonies. – The English colonists in
America always insisted that they had lost none
of their hereditary rights by migrating from the
King's British to the king's American dominions
(see UNITED STATES, I.); and that they were still
entitled to the “free privileges of free-born Eng-
lishmen,” which the king's word had confirmed
to their fathers and to them, the right to personal
liberty, to private property, and to representation
in the taxing body. They acknowledged that
distance made it practically impossible for them
to be represented in parliament; and they there-
fore insisted that their taxes must be levied by
their own parliaments, the colonial assemblies.
Two irreconcilable theories of the constitution
were thus gradually developed in Great Britain
and in America; and, after 1760, circumstances
brought them face to face, and compelled a settle-
ment by force. — The American. Theory. The
American theory really made the empire a con-
federation, the king being the bond of union. In
his kingdom of Great Britain the king had cer-
tain prerogatives, such as the power to make
peace, war and treaties; while parliament alone
had the power to grant or withhold supplies and
to levy taxes to provide them. In his other king-
doms, Ireland, New York, Massachusetts, or
South Carolina, the respective parliaments had
just as much power, and the king just the same
prerogatives, as in Great Britain. But in each
kingdom the jurisdiction of the parliament was
territorially limited : the parliament of Great
Britain had no more rightful jurisdiction in Ire-
land or in Massachusetts than the parliaments of
Ireland or Massachusetts had in Great Britain.
Franklin formulates the theory as follows: “Our
kings have ever had dominions not subject to the
English parliament. At first the provinces of
France, of which Jersey and Guernsey remain,
always governed by their own laws, appealing to
the king in council only, and not to our courts or
the house of lords. Scotland was in the same
situation before the union. It had the same king,
but a separate parliament, and the parliament of
England had no jurisdiction over it. Ireland the
same in truth, though the British parliament has
usurped a dominion over it. The colonies were
originally settled in the idea of such extrinsic do-
minions of the king, and of the king only. Han-
over is now such a dominion.” “America is not
part of the dominions of England, but of the
king's dominions. England is a dominion itself,
and has, no dominions.” “Their only bond of
union is the king.” “The British legislature are
undoubtedly the only proper judges of what con-
cerns the welfare of that state; the Irish legisla-
ture are the proper judges of what concerns the
Irish state; and the American legislatures of what
concerns the American states respectively.” The
Americans felt that the words “colony ” and
“colonist " were themselves misleading, as im-
porting some superiority of privileges in the Eng-
lishmen who had remained at home ; and they
maintained that every charter granted by the king
was a compact between him and the people of a
new kingdom. — The British Theory. On the
contrary, the whole feeling of Great Britain spoke
in Grenville's pithy statement that “colonies are
only settlements made in distant parts of the world
for the improvement of trade, and that they Would
be intolerable except on the conditions contained
in the acts of navigation.” The colonists, then, did
not escape from the jurisdiction of parliament by
migrating. Parliament might allow them a tempo-
rary latitude of self-government; but its absolute
power, though latent, could be called forth at any
moment, and the colonists, in the view of the law,
were still Englishmen and under control of the
British parliament. This theory was maintained
on the grounds, 1, that the omnipotence of parlia-
ment was not limited by the four seas which
632
REVOLUTION.
bounded Great Britain; but that, by the extension
of the empire, parliament had acquired a nobler
position as an imperial body, with, as Burke ex-
presses it, “a reserved power in the empire to Sup-
ply any deficiency that may weaken, divide and
dissipate the whole *; 2, that the colonies were
“virtually represented” in parliament, since each
member of that body represented not a particular
constituency, but the whole empire and all its in-
terests; 3, that the colonists had no more claim to
a more direct representation than Birmingham,
Manchester, Leeds, and other unrepresented cities,
but must be content with the constitution as it
was; 4, that it was patently unjust that the ex-
pensive duty of maintaining fleets and armies for
the defense of the whole empire should be im-
posed upon the imperial parliament without the
corresponding right to insure proportional con-
tributions from the parts of the empire; and 5,
that the colonists themselves had always acknowl-
edged the right of parliament to levy American
customs duties, from which the right to levy in-
ternal taxes could not logically be distinguished.
This last assertion could not be disputed, and
when it was seriously advanced as an argument it
put an end to the tacit compromise which will
next be considered. — Compromise. It will readi-
ly be perceived that these two theories were irre-
concilable, and that both were equally impracti-
cable. On the American theory it would have
required superhuman tact and discretion in the
king to avoid constant and ultimately fatal con-
flicts with his twenty different parliaments; on
the British theory, the parliament would have be-
come, under the guise of imperialism, an exas-
perating instrument of British selfishness. The
American Union has solved its similar territorial
problem by giving congress the imperial power
over the territories, while holding out to the latter
the promise of admission to the national govern-
ment as soon as they shall develop the necessary
powers and interests. (See ORDINANCE of 1787,
TERRITORIES.) Until 1760 the colonies and the
mother country lived under a tacit compromise
of a far clumsier sort. The home government
made no attempt to assert any power to levy taxes
within the limits of the colonies; these were levied
by the colonial assemblies, on a requisition, or re-
Guest, from the king, through one of his secre-
taries or the governor. The supplies voted were
always liberal, and sometimes so lavish that par-
liament voted to return a part of them. On the
other hand, the colonies made no objection to the
exercise by parliament of complete control over
foreign trade, and in many cases over domestic
trade also; and no resistance was made to the ab-
rogation or alteration of the Massachusetts charter
in 1685, 1691 and 1724. The navigation act of 1651
confined the colonial export trade to Great Britain
in English-built ships; and in 1663 this was ex-
tended to the import trade also, so that the colo-
nies could legally trade only to and from Great
Britain. (See NAVIGATION LAWs.) In the com-
mercial colonies, however, these laws were felt
but little before 1760; smuggling and bribery
of custom house officers opened the free foreign
trade which the laws forbade. In 1672 duties
were imposed on the trade from one colony to
another. In 1699 the colonists were prohibited
from exporting their wool, yarn or woolen manu-
factures to any place whatever. In 1719 the house
of commons formally condemned all American
manufactures as tending to independence. In
1732 the export of American hats was prohibited.
In 1750, rolling mills, iron furnaces and forges in
the colonies were declared public nuisances, to be
suppressed by the governors. At first all these
restrictions were submitted to, partly from indif-
ference, as they were not extensively felt, and
partly from inability to resist; but for some years
after 1760 the right of parliament to impose them
was still acknowledged, this being the last point
which the colonists were prepared to yield. So
late as 1774, congress, in its declaration of rights,
‘‘cheerfully consented” to such parliamentary re-
strictions on commerce as should be intended in
good faith to benefit the whole empire. When it
was at last found that this concession was only
accepted as a basis for further demands, it was
withdrawn, and all the colonists were ready to
echo Franklin's language : “That is a wicked
guardian and a shameless one, who first takes ad-
vantage of the weakness incident to minority,
cheats and imposes on his pupil, and, when the
pupil comes of age, urges those very impositions
as precedents to justify continuing them and add-
ing others.” This language, though natural, was
to a great extent unjust. The fault really lay in
that narrow colonial system which was then and
long afterward the law of every European nation,
and is still a part of the English theory, though it
is very seldom enforced in practice.—II.: 1760–66.
The open struggle between the two theories, which
began in 1760–63, came from an unlucky combi-
nation of causes: the accession of a king who was
determined to “reign”; the influence of the old
whig notion of the omnipotence of parliament; .
the high feeling of a nation flushed with success-
ful foreign war; the increase of the national debt,
and the consequent necessity of an increase in the
revenue; the increase of wealth in the American
colonies; and the comparative meagreness of re-
ceipts from that quarter of the empire. The ini-
tiation of the struggle was facilitated by the fact
that there was practically no denial in Great Britain
of the abstract right to tax the colonies. Even
when the stamp act was introduced in parliament,
the opposition was publicly challenged to make
such denial, and not a voice was raised to make
it, though many, like Burke, considered it highly
impolitic to exercise the right, and wished to re-
strain the controlling power of parliament to Com-
mercial regulations and to cases of Supreme neces-
sity. This, indeed, was the original ground of the
colonists themselves, but it was a poor barrier to
the usurpations of a hungry parliament. — In 1760
the first effort was made to enforce the navigation
act. Instructions were sent to the American cus-
REVOLUTION.
633
tom house officers to spare nothing of the revenue
laws, and to obtain from the courts “writs of as-
sistance” in order to enter houses and stores, and
search for goods which had not paid duty or were
forbidden to be imported. The first application
for such writs was at Salem in November, 1760,
and their issue and enforcement at once brought
a few radical men, like Otis, to deny parliament's
right to levy the duties. In the great commercial
Colony, Massachusetts, colonial and loyalist par-
ties were at once formed. The former was headed
by James Otis, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Ox-
enbridge Thacher, James Bowdoin (afterward gov-
ernor), and Thomas Cushing. The latter was
headed by Francis Bernard, the governor; Thomas
Hutchinson, the lieutenant governor, a native and
the best historian of Massachusetts, the ablest roy-
alist leader, but unscrupulous in method; Andrew
Oliver, Hutchinson's brother-in-law ; Jeremiah
Gridley, attorney general; and Timothy Ruggles.
|Behind these stood the great mass of royal office-
holders in the colonies; much of the subsequent
action of the ministries must be attributed to their
persistent advice to establish a regular army in the
Colonies, and tax the colonies for its support. —
Reb. 23, 1763, Charles. Townshend became first
lord of trade, with the administration of the col-
onies, and he inaugurated, with the support of the
ministry, the new system of colonial government.
It was announced by authority that there were to
be no more requisitions from the king to the colo-
nial assemblies for supplies, but that the colonies
were to be taxed by act of parliament. Colonial
governors and judges were to be paid by the crown;
they were to be supported by a standing army of
twenty regiments; and all the expenses of this
force were to be paid by parliamentary taxation.
It is unnecessary to follow all the windings of
British politics for the next few years: the above
programme was the chart of all the ministries,
which each followed as closely as it dared. Gov
Hutchinson tells us that the American use of the
terms whig and tory dates from this step. (See
AMERICAN WHIGS.) — In March the naval officers
on the American coast were given the duties and
fees of custom house officers, in order to enforce
the navigation acts. In April the head of the min-
istry, Bute, retired, and George Grenville took his
place under pledge to the programme above. May
5, the lords of trade were requested to sketch for
the ministry a safe and easy method of parlia-
mentary taxation of the colonies, but Shelburne,
the head of the board of trade, declined to com-
mit himself to any plan. Sept. 23, by direction
of Grenville and North, the first secretary of the
treasury (Jenkinson) wrote to the commissioners
of stamp duties to draft a bill for extending the
stamp duties to the colonies. Close investigation
has failed to fix the real authorship of the stamp
act, but the responsibility for it rests most proba-
bly on Jenkinson. March 9, 1764, Grenville an-
nounced that he intended to introduce the stamp
act at the next session; and in the meantime he
suggested to the colonial agents in London that
their assemblies should formally approve it, in or-
der to make a precedent for their being consulted
in future taxation, or that they should propose
Some more palatable mode of parliamentary taxa-
tion. But the principle was carefully asserted: a
bill of April 5 purported, for the first time, to
“grant duties in the colonies and plantations of
America.” — The stamp duty was not objected to
in itself: it was a convenient mode of making a
tax collect itself, and for that reason was employed
in 1759 by the Massachusetts assembly, and in
subsequent years by the new federal government.
The objection lay wholly to parliament's power to
tax, which was thus forced into the foreground of
discussion. In June the Massachusetts assembly
sent a circular letter asking the “united assist-
ance” of the other colonies; and during the year
nearly all the colonial assemblies petitioned against
the new scheme. But the idea of forcible resist-
ance does not seem to have occurred to the king,
to the ministry, to parliament, to the colonial
agents, or to the colonial assemblies. All believed
that the tax would execute itself. The act was
framed, imposing stamp duties on legal docu-
ments, marriage licenses, and publications of ev-
ery description, and making Offenses against it
cognizable in the admiralty courts, without a jury.
Petitions against it were refused a hearing, on ac-
count of an ancient and convenient rule forbid-
ding the reception of petitions against a money
bill. The bill was passed with hardly any oppo-
sition in either house; the king was by this time a
lunatic, and his signature was attached by a com-
mission; and with this evil augury the stamp act
became law, March 22, 1765. With it went a sug-
gestive act to authorize the quartering of troops
in the colonies, and to require the assemblies to
furnish them with subsistence. — The first answer
came from the Virginia assembly, which adopted
a series of resolutions offered by Patrick Henry,
May 30. These declared that the colony had never
forfeited and had always enjoyed the right to be
taxed by their own representatives; but the assem-
bly rejected two further resolutions, declaring that
the people of the colony were not bound to obey
the stamp act, and that he who should obey it
would be an enemy to the colony. June 8, the
Massachusetts assembly took the more important
step of calling a congress of all the colonies. (See
STAMP ACT CONGRESS.) Through the summer
the resistance took the form of an inchoate rev-
olution. Associations, the “Sons of Liberty,”
were formed ; stamp agents were compelled to
resign, either by Ostracism, or, in some few cases,
by actual violence; and the inflammatory reso-
lutions of public meetings were steadily carry-
ing the assemblies to the point of resistance.
Nov. 1, 1765, was the day fixed for the opera-
tions of the act to begin ; but there were by
that time neither stamps nor stamp agents in the
colonies, and the judges, like the merchants, were
compelled to ignore the absence of Stamps upon
documents. Hutchinson wrote home that the peo-
ple were “absolutely without the use of reason.”
634
REVOLUTION.
— In the meantime the opponents of the policy of
taxing the colonies had come into power, under
the Rockingham ministry, in July, 1765. Their
first design was not to repeal, but to modify the
act, and make it more acceptable. But when par-
liament met, its right to tax the colonies was at
last denied by some of its own members, though
even these still asserted its power to lay duties and
regulate trade. Said Pitt: “In an American tax,
what do we do 2 We, your majesty’s commons
of Great Britain, give and grant to your majesty
—what? Our own property? No! We give and
grant to your majesty the property of your maj-
esty’s commons in America. It is an absurdity in
terms”; and he “rejoiced that America had re-
sisted.” The majority, however, followed the
ministerial programme. The reception of the pe-
titions of the American congress was evaded.
A declaratory house resolution was passed, Feb.
10, 1766, by almost unanimous vote, that the king,
with the advice and consent of parliament, “ had,
hath, and of right ought to have, full power and
authority to make laws and statutes of sufficient
validity to bind the colonies and people of Amer-
ica, subjects of Great Britain, in all cases what-
soever.” This was followed up by four others:
that there had been tumults and insurrections
in the colonies; that these had been encouraged
by the colonial assemblies; that the assemblies
must make recompense for property destroyed;
and that the house would sustain the lawful au-
thority of the crown and the rights of parlia-
ment, and would favor and protect the loyal peo-
ple of the colonies. Under cover of this hot fire
of resolutions the stamp act was repealed, March
18. The repeal was wholly on the ground of pol-
icy, and was accompanied by a declaratory act in
two clauses: 1, containing the first resolution above
named; and 2, declaring null and void the votes
and resolutions of the colonial assemblies in regard
to taxation. One of the most valuable incidents
in the repeal was the examination of Franklin
before the house of commons, Feb. 13. The
questions put to him numbered 174; and his an-
swers sum up calmly, but fully, the American
theory of the connection between Great Britain
and the colonies, and the compromise to which the
Americans were willing to agree. — III.: 1766–70.
Hutchinson dates the revolt of the colonies from
the repeal of the stamp act. As soon as the re-
joicings over that event had subsided, premoni-
tory symptoms of trouble again began to appear.
The Massachusetts assembly refused to make rec-
ompense for the losses in the riots without an ac-
companying bill of indemnity. Other assemblies
refused to comply with the act of 1765 for billet-
ing and subsisting the army. In November, 1766,
the first declaration that parliament had no right
to “legislate” for the colonies was made in the
Massachusetts assembly; and there was a growing
party everywhere which held to the advanced
doctrine of “no legislation without representation.”
And all this time political events in Great Britain
were tending against the colonies. In July, 1766,
Chatham had formed a ministry composed main-
ly of friends of America; but Chatham's contin-
ued illness was steadily throwing the real leader-
ship into the hands of the chancellor of the ex-
chequer, Charles Townshend. His political creed
he summed up as follows: “I would govern the
Americans as subjects of Great Britain. These, our
children, must not make themselves our allies in
time of war, and our rivals in peace.” In March,
1767, Chatham really, though not formally, retired
from public affairs, and Townshend was master
of the situation. He made use now of the par-
liamentary control over commerce, which colonial
assemblies had so often expressly acknowledged;
and in July a bill was passed granting duties in
America on glass, lead, paints, paper and tea.
But the insidiously perilous feature of the act.
was, that the proceeds were to go into the ex-
chequer, and were to be distributed at the king's
pleasure in paying the salaries of governors,
judges, and other civil officers. These would
thus be, as they had never been before, completely
independent of the American assemblies, and not.
only able but willing to make political war upon
them. By other acts, writs of assistance were le-
galized, and the New York assembly was suspend-
ed altogether, until it should obey the billeting
act. In September, Townshend died, but his man-
tle fell on Lord North, his successor. —It was dif-
ficult, at first, to find any means of Opposition to
the new revenue laws. Isolated agreements were
indeed made by the people of various districts, to
abstain from the use of any of the articles taxed;
but these depending on the persistence of individ-
uals, were no safe reliance. Jan. 12, 1768, the
Massachusetts assembly formally protested against
the new system; and Feb. 11, it sent a circular
letter to the other colonies, asking advice. April
21, the colonial office sent a mandate to each of
the governors to prorogue the assembly of his
colony rather than allow the circular letter to be
discussed. To Massachusetts further orders were
sent to prorogue the assembly if it should not re-
cant the letter, and to continue the process indefi-
nitely until submission should be made; and in
June this penalty was enforced. June 8, four
regiments under Gage were ordered to Boston
permanently; five vessels took possession of the
harbor; and the fort was repaired and occupied.
Every petty disturbance, every expression of pop-
ular indignation, had been magnified and distorted
by colonial officers, until the ministry really be-
lieved a rebellion imminent, and took this Sure
means to provoke it. Even then, it required seven
years’ wrangling to break the bond of union. —
Massachusetts, however, was now very close to re-
bellion. Her assembly, like that of several other
colonies, had been dissolved; and a convention
of town delegates met, Sept. 22, protested against
the revenue laws, and petitioned the king. “I
doubt whether they have been guilty of an overt
act of treason,” said the British attorney general,
“but I am sure they have come within a hair's
breadth of it.” In February, 1769, parliament
REVOLUTION.
635
requested the king to have the ring-leaders in
Massachusetts sent to England to be tried for trea-
son, under an old statute of Henry VIII. One
step further, an attempt to arrest for that purpose,
and the rebellion would have begun; but the step
was not taken. Nevertheless the troops were left
in Boston, a firebrand near a powder magazine;
and the next six years are one long record of bick-
erings between the townspeople and the military,
arrests of soldiers for violations of town laws, in-
dictments of officers, even of the commander-in-
chief, for “slandering the town of Boston,” and
similar legal proceedings, blotted by the Boston
massacre of March 5, 1770, in which five lives were
lost. — The whole of the year 1769 was taken up
by the full development of the colonial claim of
rights. The Virginia assembly, May 16, passed a
series of resolutions, declaring its right of taxa-
tion, of petition, and of concurrence with other
colonies, and the right of its people to a trial by a
jury of the vicinage; and these, for which the as-
sembly was dissolved, were copied by other assem-
blies, and the fault met the same punishment.
The Massachusetts assembly absolutely refused to
make provision for the troops, and was, for that
reason, dissolved. Whenever an assembly was
dissolved, its members at Once formed a non-im-
portation league, so that the agreement not to use
taxed articles had become much more general than
was to be expected. It was effective enough to
extort from the ministry a circular letter, in May,
1769, promising to impose no more such duties,
and to abandon all those already imposed, except
that of three pence per pound on tea, which yield-
ed about $1,500 per annum of revenue. The re-
peal, in these terms and to this extent, was form-
ally enacted, April 12, 1770. But there remained
the preamble, the declaration of the right and ex-
pediency of taxation of the colonies by parliament.
This was still to be resisted; and the revolution,
as Webster afterward remarked, was fought upon
this preamble. The only result of the repeal was
the dissolution of the non-importation associa-
tions, and the renewal of trade with Great Britain,
except in the matter of tea. — IV. : 1770–83. The
first few years of this period are mainly occupied
by apparent efforts on the part of the king and
the ministry to put the colonists so far in the
wrong as to excuse the use of force. The struggle
against the carefully guarded and almost pedant-
ically legal methods of the colonies was growing
vexatious. In July and September, 1770, the king
made preparations to declare martial law in Mas-
sachusetts, filled Boston harbor with war vessels,
and even seized the castle guarding the harbor,
though this had been built by the colony, and
the control of it was reserved to the governor
by the charter: Still the colonists avoided any
open provocation, and there was no fighting
except in North Carolina, where the governor,
Tryon, provoked and suppressed an “insurrec-
tion,” and in Rhode Island, where the “Gasper,”
a revenue cutter, was burned, June 9, 1772, by
a boat party from the shore, after she had run
aground. The whole period was marked by ex-
asperating legal battles between the governors,
under royal instructions, and the various assem-
blies. In most of the colonies the upper house, or
council, was selected by the lower house, with a
power of veto by the governor. Whenever per-
sons were selected who had taken part against
the parliament, their nominations were vetoed,
and the war of retaliation, thus begun, kept the
continent in a ferment. In Massachusetts the
higher step was taken of paying the salaries of
the governor and principal officials directly from
the royal treasury, thus not only violating the char-
ter by making them independent of the colony,
but provoking a conflict, for it should have been
evident that the assembly would never recognize
or act with a governor or judges salaried by the
crown. This step, like others equally ruinous,
was the fruit of constant pressure by the office-
holders in America. In December, 1772, Franklin
obtained and sent from London to the assembly
the treacherous letters of Massachusetts officers,
advising these coercive measures, and these did
much to undermine all public confidence in the
royal civil service. Every one lived in an atmos-
phere of distrust, more destructive to loyalty than
the open excitement produced by the stamp act.
— Nov. 2, 1772, in Boston town meeting, Samuel
Adams obtained the appointment of a committee
of correspondence with other towns. This was
the real opening of the revolution, the installation
of the first of those revolutionary bodies which
within three years had practically superseded the
legitimate governments in the conduct of the strug-
gle. (See NoMINATING ConVENTIONS.) Other
towns followed the example ; and Virginia laid
the basis of the Union, March 12, 1773, by ap-
pointing a committee of correspondence with the
other colonies. – All this time the tax on tea had
been collected, though it had shrunk to $400 per
year. In April, 1773, the East India company
applied for permission to export free of duty the
ruinously large stock of tea which it had accu-
mulated. This offered a fair opportunity to settle
discontent, but Lord North induced parliament to
vote the company a drawback of the duties, the
repayment of the duties, after May 10, to the
company after collection. The duties would thus.
be collected, the principle maintained, and yet the
price of the tea would not be increased. After
all, the meanness of this evasion, and of the trap
which it attempted to set, seems to have had much
to do with the result. It early led to the appoint-
ment of revolutionary committees by other colo-
nies, and thus to a union antecedent to the meet-
ing of congress. Consignments of tea were sent
to Charleston, Philadelphia, New York and Bos-
ton. At Charleston it was stored in damp cellars,
and destroyed; at Philadelphia and New York the
ships were forced to return; but at Boston the of.
ficers would not permit the ships to return without
discharging. Dec. 16, the revolutionary commit-
tee took further discussion out of the hands of
the town meeting, sent a body of men, and threw
636
REVOLUTION.
the tea into the harbor. — Boston at once became
the focus of interest. It had placed itself in the
forefront of resistance, and behind it were the
revolutionary committees of all the thirteen colo-
nies. Its conduct was noticed severely in the
king's speech, March 7, 1774; and on the 31st the
Boston port bill became law. It forbade the land.
ing or shipping of goods in Boston after June
1, until the owners of the tea should be recom-
pensed, and the king should be satisfied of the
town’s future obedience. Lord North also de-
Clared in debate that the act would be enforced
by the use of the army and navy. Salem was
made the capital of the colony, and Marblehead
a port of entry. Gage, the commander-in-chief
for North America, was made civil governor of
Massachusetts, with instructions to bring the ring-
leaders to punishment. — The Boston port bill was
followed, May 20, by a bill for the government
of Massachusetts, which abrogated a large part of
the charter. It took away the choice of the coun-
cil by the lower house; forbade town meetings,
except for elections or on the governor's permis-
sion; and gave the appointment of sheriffs to the
governor, and the selection of juries to the sheriffs.
This might have been fairly termed a bill to trans-
fer the de facto government of Massachusetts to
revolutionary committees. With it went a sup-
plementary act “for the impartial administration
of justice in Massachusetts” by transferring to
Nova Scotia or Great Britain the trial of Officers
or soldiers indicted for murder. Another act le-
galized the quartering of soldiers in Boston; and
another, the “Quebec act,” extended the jurisdic-
tion of that province over the whole of that which
was afterward called the “Northwest Territory,”
(see ORDINANCE OF 1787), and to which various
colonies laid claim by charter. These were unre-
traceable steps. The first four called for united
resistance by all the colonies which had charters,
and by all the colonies which desired charters; the
last called for united resistance by all, for this ter-
ritory was already blindly felt to be the common
property of the whole, and the basis of future
union. — Gage arrived May 17. The revolution-
ary committees all over the country had already
begun to obtain a popular suspension of commerce
with Great Britain; and the New York committee
had proposed a general congress. This last meas-
ure met with general approval; and the Massa-
Chusetts assembly, June 17, formally proposed it
for Sept. 1, at Philadelphia, having first locked
the doors to prevent the governor from proroguing
them. Two days before, the Rhode Island as-
sembly had chosen delegates to the congress; five
days after, Maryland took the still more ultra step
of electing delegates by a popular convention or
provincial congress. This last step was even more
decisive than the calling of a congress. It was imi-
tated in the other colonies during the Summer; and
though these “provincial congresses” ventured
at first no further than the preparation of non-
importation agreements, promises of support to
the general, or continental, CongreSS, or contribu-
tions for the assistance of the people of Boston,
they were evidently the germ of rebellion, and
within a year were to assume the practical gov-
ernment of their colonies. – The congress met in
Carpenter's hall, Philadelphia, Sept. 5, 1774. (See
CONGRESS, CONTINENTAL, for its further history.)
Gage had already begun to fortify himself in
Boston, and had seized the colony's stores, as if
in an enemy’s country. False alarms had already
led to more than one mustering of the militia
of Massachusetts and the neighboring colonies.
Nevertheless, the only measure of active resistance
adopted by the congress was the preparation of
an “American association,” Oct. 20, 1774, which
was signed by the delegates and then circulated
for general signature. It not only bound the sign-
ers to non-importation, non-exportation and non:
consumption of British goods, and to prohibition
of the slave trade (see SLAVERY, III.), but it pro-
vided for local committees, chosen by popular
vote, to enforce the provisions of the association.
This was the first effective step toward national
union and preparation for war (see EMBARGo);
and it is noteworthy that it was taken by general
popular action, not by state action; and yet that
state lines, and even town boundaries, were care-
fully observed in its execution. The peculiar com-
bination of national and local government in the
United States could hardly be better illustrated.
(See NATION, STATE SovieFEIGNTY.)— From this
time revolution in British North America was a
certainty. It proceeded steadily at first as a mere
protest against, and passive resistance to, the un-
constitutional measures of the ministry ; then,
after April 19, 1775, as a scission of the British
empire and the formation of an American nation,
George III, being still recognized as its king; then,
after July 4, 1776, as the establishment of a self-
governing republic under the revolutionary con-
gress, to be succeeded by the articles of confeder-
ation and the constitution. (See Congress, CON-
TINENTAL; FLAG ; DECLARATION OF INDEPEND-
ENCE ; CONFEDERATION, ARTICLES OF ; WARS ;
CoNSTITUTION ; UNITED STATES.) — See 7 – 10
Bancroft’s United States, 1–3 Hildreth’s United
States; 1 Pitkin's United States; 1 Tucker's United
States ; 1–3 Spencer's United States, 1–3 Bryant
and Fay's United States, Holmes’ Annals of Amer-
ºca , 1 Adolphus’ History of England ; 5 Mahon's
History of England ; 2, 6 Burke's Works; J. M.
Ludlow's War of American Independence ; Gra-
hame's History of the United States ; Gordon's
History of the Independence of the United States;
Force's Tracts, and American Archives, Chalmer's
Introduction to the Revolt of the American Colonies;
Walsh's Appeal; 1 Story's Commentaries; Doyle's
American Colonies; Marshall’s American Colonies;
Lodge's English Colonies in America, Greene's
Historical View of the American Revolution, Botta's
American Revolution (Otis' trans.); Ramsay’s His-
tory of the Revolution ; Frothingham's Rise of the
Republic ; Stedman's History of the American
War, Niles’ Principles and Acts of the Revolution;
Moore's Diary of the Revolution, E. Abbott’s Rev-
RHODE ISLAND.
637
olutionary Times; Dillon's Historical Evidence;
Journals of Congress, 1774–88; 1 Elliot's Debates;
4 Franklin's Works, 162 (his examination), 223,
270, 281, 406; Sparks’ Writings of Washington,
Correspondence of the Revolution, and Diplomatic
Correspondence of the Revolution; Trescot's Diplo-
"macy of the Revolution, Lyman's Diplomatic His-
tory of the United States ; 1 Bishop's History of
American Manufactures; Wells' Life of Samuel
Adams, 2, 3, 5 John Adams’ Works; for authori-
ties on special topics see Winsor's Reader's Hand-
book of the Revolution, and C. K. Adams' Manual
of Historical Literature, 605; authorities under
articles referred to MASSACHUSETTS, and the other
Original states. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
RHODE ISLAND, one of the original thirteen
States of the American Union. Its settlement was
begun at Providence in 1636 by Roger Williams,
as a place of refuge for persons banished from
Massachusetts. In 1637 a band of antinomians,
also banished from Massachusetts, made a settle-
ment on Rhode Island ; and the traces of this
double settlement are still seen in the official title,
‘‘the state of Rhode Island and Providence Plan-
tations,” and in the two capitals, Providence and
Newport, in which the legislature meets alternate-
ly. The title to these and other settlements was
at first derived from the Indians by purchase.
Parliament was then the ruling power in Great
Britain, and its lord high admiral of the colonies,
Warwick, granted Williams a patent, March 14,
1643, which was renewed by Charles II. in 1663,
as stated below. — Boun DARIES. The patent of
1643 assigned as limits the ocean on the south, the
Plymouth and Massachusetts patents on the east
and north, and the Narragansett Indian territory
on the west. The charter of 1663 was more defi.
nite. The southern and northern boundaries re-
mained as before. The western boundary was to
be the Pawcatuck river to its head, and thence
due north to the Massachusetts line. Originally
the eastern boundary of Connecticut (see that
state) was to have been the Narragansett river or
bay; but this charter stipulated, with the consent
of the Connecticut agents, that the Pawcatuck
river should be “taken and deemed to be * the
Narragansett river mentioned in the Connecticut
boundary. Connecticut repudiated the action of
her agent, claimed jurisdiction over the Narra-
gansett country, east of the Pawcatuck, both by
her charter and by conquest from the Indians,
and pressed her claim by all legal means, by ap-
peal to the New England union, and by prepara-
tions for force. Rhode Island’s threat to appeal
to the king brought about an agreement May 12,
1703, to run the boundary from the head of the
Pawcatuck to the southwest corner of the War-
wick purchase, and thence due north to the Massa-
chusetts line. This was confirmed by the crown
in 1727, and after sixty-five years of quarreling
the line was settled, Sept. 27, 1728, and confirmed
by both colonies in 1742. A new survey was
made in 1840. – The eastern boundary assigned
was a line from the ocean three miles to the east
of Narragansett bay and Seacunck, Blackstone,
or Seekonk, river “to the falls called Patuckett
falls,” and thence due north to the Massachusetts
line. But Massachusetts Bay and Plymouth col-
Onies claimed a large part of Rhode Island as
lying within their patents; the former claimed
Pawtuxet and Warwick; the latter, Aquidneck
and the islands. Had these and the Connecticut
ciaims on the west been allowed, very little would
have been left of Rhode Island. Only the colony’s
stubborn resistance carried it safely through a
struggle of more than a century, during which
feeling ran so high as to exclude Rhode Island
from political association with her neighbors.
(See NEw ENGLAND UNION.) In 1703 the western
boundary was fixed in favor of Rhode Island by
royal commissioners, and in 1726 their award was
confirmed by the crown. In 1741 the disputed
eastern boundary was decided in the same way
very nearly in accordance with Rhode Island’s
claim ; and in 1746—7 the award was confirmed
by the crown. Rhode Island thus gained its
present northeast township, and five others on
the southeast. The boundary between the two
states was not finally settled until March 1, 1862,
when it was so run as to throw Fall River into
Massachusetts and Pawtucket into Rhode Island.
— ConstituTIONS. The provisions of the charter
of 1663 gave the colony a “democratical" form
of government. No appeal or veto power was
reserved to the crown; and even the clause which
forbade the making of laws contrary to the laws
of England was only to extend so far as the na-
ture and constitution of the colony would per-
mit. The governor and general assembly were
to be chosen by the people, and their statutes were
final. Rhode Island was thus from the beginning
a self-governing community. At first the legisla-
ture had but One house, but in 1696 a law was
passed forming two houses: the council, or gov-
ernor's assistants, as the upper house, and the
delegates as the lower house. In 1724 a property
qualification was established for the right of suf-
frage. It was subsequently modified, until in
1762 it was settled at £40 ($134) freehold, or 40
shillings ($7.50) annual rent. Only freemen with
this qualification could vote or hold office, except
that the eldest son of a freeman needed no quali-
fication. — This charter was the organic law of
the colony and state until 1843. It was suspended
by common consent during James II.’s quo war-
Tanto warfare upon the colony charters, but was
quietly resumed after his abdication. It was not
altered at the revolution, except by a law of the
legislature in May, 1776, substituting allegiance
to the colony for allegiance to the king. — A very
simple and excellent constitution was framed by
a state convention at Newport and East Green-
wich, Sept. 12 – Nov. 5, 1842. It was ratified,
Nov. 21–23, by a popular vote of 7,032 to 59, and
went into force in May, 1843. It gave the right
of suffrage to males over twenty-one, on the old
property qualification of $134, or on the annual
638
RHODE ISLAND.
payment of a state tax of one dollar. The gov-
ernor, a house of representatives of not more than
seventy-two members, and a senate of one mem-
ber from each town or city, were all to be elected
annually, and there were few restraints on their
action. In 1864 an amendment was made, to al-
low the state's volunteer soldiers to vote for presi-
dential electors, congressmen and state officers. —
GovKRNORs. Nicholas Cooke, 1775–8; William
Greene, 1778–86; John Collins, 1786–90; Arthur
Fenner, 1790–1805; Isaac Wilbour, 1805–7; James
Fenner, 1807–11; William Jones, 1811–17; N. R.
Knight, 1817–21; Wm. C. Gibbs, 1821–4; James
Fenner, 1824–31 ; Lemuel H. Arnold, 1831–3;
John B. Francis, 1833–8; William Sprague, 1838–9;
Samuel W. King, 1840–43; James Fenner, 1843–5;
Charles Jackson, 1845–6; Byron Diman, 1846–7;
Elisha Harris, 1847–9; H. B. Anthony, 1849–51;
Philip Allen, 1851–3; William W. Hoppin, 1853–7;
Elisha Dyer, 1857–9; Thos. G. Turner, 1859–60;
William Sprague, 1860–63; James Y. Smith,
1863–6; Ambrose E. Burnside, 1866–9; Seth Pad-
elford, 1869–73; Henry Howard, 1873–5; Henry
Lippitt, 1875–7; C. C. Van Zandt, 1877–80; Al-
fred H. Littlefield, 1880–83; Augustus O. Bourn,
1883–4. — POLITICAL HISTORY. The natural Con-
formation, by which Narragansett bay penetrates
almost every part of the state, had from an early
period developed a large commercial interest; but
the apportionment of representation in the legisla-
ture among the towns gave the agricultural inter-
est complete control of legislation. For twenty
years before the outbreak of the revolution there
had been a constant struggle between the town
and country, hard money and paper money, par-
ties, led by Samuel Ward and Stephen Hopkins,
respectively. The steady and successful struggle
of a century against the encroachments of two
powerful neighbors had kept up a strong state
feeling, which, combined with the rivalry of the
state's two great interests, made Rhode Island
the brake on every effort at a closer union among
the states. On every grant of additional power
for which congress asked (see CONFEDERATION,
ARTICLES OF) Rhode Island put a veto which was
final, since any change in the articles required the
approval of every state. The agricultural repre-
sentatives were determined, 1, to retain the power
of laying duties on imports, in order to lighten
state taxes; 2, to retain the power of compelling
the commercial classes to accept as a legal tender
the depreciated paper currency of the state; and
3, to resist any change in the national constitution
which should curtail these privileges. Hence,
though the urban population was warmly federal-
ist, the state was not represented in the conven-
tion of 1787, and the legislature refused even to
call a state convention to consider the new con-
stitution, remitting it to the town meetings, when
it was overwhelmingly defeated. The new ques-
tion increased the division of feeling so much
that the legislature passed a bill to compel hold-
ers of state securities to accept five shillings in
the pound for them, and removed the state
judges who pronounced the law unconstitution-
al; and a country army, headed by a judge of
the state supreme court, marched upon Provi.
dence to prevent a celebration of the general
adoption of the constitution, July 4, 1788. In the
latter case, bloodshed was averted by an agree-
ment to have a common banquet, without refer-
ence to the constitution. Finally, the state yielded,
and ratified the constitution, May 29, 1790. (See
SECESSION, I.; STATE Sover EIGNTY.) — Having
once gained control of the state, the commercial
interest kept it federalist for over ten years; and
the tendency was assisted by the operation of
Hamilton's scheme for the assumption of state
debts (see FEDERAL PARTY, I.), under which the
holders of state securities recovered that portion
which they had lost under the state paper money
laws. The governors, legislatures and congress-
men were thus federalist; and the state's electoral
votes were cast in 1792 for Washington and
Adams, in 1796 for Adams and Ellsworth of
Connecticut, and in 1800 for Adams and Pinck-
ney, with one vote for John Jay. (See CAUCUS,
CoNGRESSIONAL, I.) The general democratic suc-
cess of 1800 encouraged the party in Rhode Island
to a new alignment of country against town. It
was immediately successful; the state became
democratic in 1801, and in 1804 her electoral votes
were cast for Jefferson and Clinton. But, as the
embargo system began to press more heavily upon
agriculture as well as commerce, the Small demo-
cratic majority disappeared, and the state again be-
came federalist in 1808, casting her electoral votes
for Pinckney and King. In the following year the
state government also became federalist, and so
remained throughout the war. (See EMBARGO ;
CoNVENTION, HARTFORD.) — The manufacturing
interest, which had been developed by the re-
strictive system and the war, and which was des.
tined to put an end to the federal party (see FED-
ERAL PARTY, II.), probably grew more rapidly in
Rhode Island than in any other state, and has
since controlled the state's politics to this day.
It gave the state's electoral votes to Monroe and
Tompkins, the democratic condidates, in 1816 and
1820; it elected Gov. Knight in 1817 and sub-
sequent years; and, on the break-up of the demo-
cratic party in 1824–5, it carried the state into the
Adams, or protective tariff, portion, the germ of
the whig party. (See WHIG PARTY, 1.) From
1824 until 1850 the State's electoral votes Were Cast
for Adams and other whig candidates, with the
exception of 1836, when they were given to Van
Buren by a majority of 254 out of 5,674 votes.
During the same period the governors, legislatures,
senators and congressmen were whig, with the ex-
ception of a few protective tariff domocratic Con-
gressmen. — The charter, an excellent one for a
purely agricultural population, had long before
1842 been made obsolete by the growth of other
interests. The grievance usually assigned was the
property qualification required of voters; but the
comparative unimportance of this is shown by the
fact that the increase of voting population was
RHODE ISLAND.
639
2,947 (51.9 per cent.) from 1836 until 1840, and
3,675 (42.6 per cent.) from 1840 until 1844, after
the practical abolition of the property qualifica-
tion. A more serious grievance was the unequal
representation of the towns. While they had
varied enormously in their growth, their propor-
tionate representation remained fixed as at first;
and the “minority-majority” stubbornly refused
to make any change. Representative reform had
been unsuccessfully proposed by the growing
cities in 1796, 1824 and 1830; and in 1840 the state
of affairs seemed unendurable. Providence, with
23,000 inhabitants, had four representatives; Ports-
mouth, with 1,700, had four; and Newport, with
8,000, had six. Of the whole number of seventy-
two representatives, thirty-eight represented towns
with 29,020 inhabitants (2,846 voters), and thirty.
four represented towns with 79,804 inhabitants
(5,776 voters). Party feeling added bitterness to
the question. The demand for reform came main-
ly from the democrats, and was resisted by the
whigs; and in other states party organs supported
their respective party friends in Rhode Island.
The result was the “Dorr rebellion.” (See that
title, and INSURRECTION, II.) Concurrently with
its suppression, the new state constitution was
framed and put in force.
by slightly relaxing the property qualification ;
and still more by apportioning representation to
population equitably throughout the state on a
ratio of one representative to 1,530 inhabitants.
— In 1851 the coalition of democrats and free-
soilers (see REPUBLICAN PARTY, I.) elected the
governor, a majority of the legislature on joint bal-
lot, one of the two congressmen, and the United
States senator; and in the following year the state's
electoral votes were given to the democratic can-
didates, Pierce and King, by a majority of 465
out of 17,005 votes. In the congress of 1853–5,
for the first and last time since 1824, all the state's
Senators and congressmen were democrats. The
elections of 1854–5 put an end to the temporary
democratic supremacy, and by the end of the
latter year there were in the legislature but two
democratic senators out of thirty-two, and three
democratic representatives out of seventy-two.
At first the majority called itself the American
party (see that title), but before 1856 it had settled
into the republican party. Gov. Hoppin's election
in 1855 was almost unanimous. From that time
until the present the state has been republican in
all elections, presidential, congressional and state,
But the state's republicanism has never been ultra:
it has been fairly represented by such moderate
and conservative members as Anthony, Sprague,
Jenckes and Burnside. Until 1861, indeed, the
republicans elsewhere looked with some suspicion
upon the Rhode Island delegations, as if com
mercial interest had made them cautious even to
cowardice. In January, 1861, the legislature even
repealed its “personal liberty law" (see that title),
as a peace measure. But the call for troops in April
showed that the state's caution covered an equal
ly strong determination. Her quota was filled
It removed discontent
immediately, and the governor literally fulfilled
his constitutional function of “captain general
and commander-in-chief of the military and naval
forces of this state,” by heading the state's con-
tingent in person. — Since the close of the re-
bellion the republican share of the total vote has
been from 60 to 70 per cent., except in 1876, when
the vote for Hayes was 15,787, and that for Tilden
10,712. In 1880 Garfield had 18,195 votes, Han-
cock 10,779, and 261 were scattering. In the state
elections there is frequently no popular choice of
governor, since the democratic and prohibition
votes, each inferior to the republican vote, are
together superior to it, and prevent a popular
majority for any candidate. Any coalition be-
tween the two minority parties is at once followed
by a complete republican majority ; and their
separate existence is followed by no popular ma-
jority, and the choice of a republican by the legis-
lature. In the legislature in 1883 the republicans
had thirty senators and sixty-five representatives,
and the democrats seven senators and seven rep-
resentatives. In every county the republicans
are in a large majority. — Among the leaders in
state politics have been the following: Henry B.
Anthony, whig governor 1849–51, republican
United States Senator 1859–90; Samuel G. Arnold,
whig lieutenant governor 1852–3 and 1861–2, re-
publican United States senator 1862–3, and author
of the standard history of the state ; Tristam
Burges, whig congressman 1825–35; Ambrose E.
Burnside, major general in the war of the rebellion,
republican governor 1866–8, and United States sen.
ator 1875–81 ; Nathan F. Dixon, congressman
(whig) 1849–51, and (republican) 1863–71; Job
Durfee, federalist congressman 1821–5 and state
chief justice; William Ellery, delegate to congress
1776–81, a signer of the declaration of independ-
ence, state chief justice 1785–9, and collector of the
port of Newport 1790–1820; James Fenner, United
States senator 1805–7, governor 1807–11, 1824–31,
and 1843–5; David Howell, delegate to congress
1782–5, and federal district judge 1812–24; Thos.
A. Jenckes, republican congressman 1863–71, and
the first effective promoter of reform in the fed-
eral civil service; Stephen Hopkins, chief justice
1751–4, governor 1755–6, 1758–61, 1763–4, and
1767, and delegate to congress 1774–8; Nehemiah
R. Knight, governor (democratic) 1817–20, and
whig United States senator 1821–41; Francis Mal-
bone, federalist congressman 1793–7, and United
States senator, May, June, 1809; Duttee J. Pearce, .
democratic congressman 1825–37; Elisha R. Pot-
ter, whig congressman 1843–5; William Sprague,
democratic congressman 1835–7, governor 1838
–9, and United States senator 1842–4; William
Sprague (nephew of the preceding) republican
governor 1860–63, and United States Senator
1863–75; and Samuel Ward, governor 1762 and
1765–7, delegate to congress 1774–5. —See 2
Poore's Federal and State Comstitutions; Arnold's
History of Rhode Island; Bartlett's Records of
Rhode Island (to 1792), Rhode Island Historical
Thracts; Bowen's Boundary disputes of Connect:-
640
RICARD0.
cut, 31 (western boundary of Rhode Island); Cal-
lender's Early History of Rhode Island (edit. of
1838); Rhode Island Hist. Soc. Coll., G. G. Chan-
ning's Recollections of Newport (1793–1811); Peter-
son’s History of Rhode Island (to 1815, and thence
very meagrely to 1850); Bowen's Memoir of Tris-
tam Burges (1835); authorities under DORR RE-
BELLION; G. W. Greene's Short History of Rhode
Island (1875; the Dorr constitution is at p. 317);
Stone's Rhode Island in the Rebellion; and, in gen-
eral, Bartlett's Bibliography of Rhode Island (1864).
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
RICARD0, David. David Ricardo, one of the
most celebrated English economists of this cen-
tury, was born in London in 1772, and died at
Gatcom Park, in the county of Gloucester, Sept.
11, 1823. His family is said to have come origin-
ally from Lisbon; it is certain that his father, a
Dutch Jew, came to England, where he acquired
an honorable position by his ability and integrity,
at the same time that he made a fortune in finan-
cial business and business on 'Change. David
Ricardo received a commercial education at a
school in Holland, where he remained two years,
and, at the age of fourteen, he was placed in his
father's office in London. He soon showed, in
this struggle with the chances of financial life, a
cool and Sound judgment, penetrating Sagacity,
and great skill in calculating mentally the advan-
tages of an operation, in disentangling difficult
transactions, and in reaching an exact solution in
spite of the most complicated details. – Business
did not wholly absorb him, however, and his mind
was preoccupied, on the one hand, with the social
and economical questions raised by the situation
of Europe in general and his own country in par-
ticular, and also by religious questions on the
Other. His reflections on these last decided him
to change his religion, and to join the church of
Bngland, in spite of the formal disapprobation of
his family and his father, toward whom, however,
he never forgot his duty as a respectful son. This
event rendered a separation inevitable, and young
David Ricardo was obliged to consider how to
make his fortune alone. But as he had already
given proof of a remarkable aptitude for business,
support, means and encouragement were not lack-
ing, and he was able to take a share in very lucra-
tive operations. – At the age of twenty-five he
was rich, and had married Miss Wilkinson. His
lot decided, and being no longer absorbed by the
cares of fortune, he, like Lavoisier, divided his
time into two parts: one for business, the other
for scientific studies, toward which an inborn in-
clination had long drawn him. He resumed the
study of mathematics and of the natural sciences,
devoting himself especially to chemical research.
He was one of the first to introduce gas burners
into one of his residences. At the same time he
took great pleasure in reading the chefs-d'-gºuvre of
literature, and Fonteyrand heard it related in his
family that he plunged with infinite delight into
the reading of Shakespeare. — But he was still
more strongly attracted toward political economy,
after he had read, as he himself relates, the im-
mortal work of Adam Smith, with which he had
first become acquainted in 1799, at Bath, to which
place he had accompanied Mrs. Ricardo, whose
health had become impaired. Thus it was that, .
by the nature of his business and the bent of his
mind, he was preparing himself theoretically and
practically for the financial and economical strug-
gles in which he played so great a part during the
last years of his life. — Ricardo made his first ap-
pearance as a writer and economist in 1810, at the
age of thirty-eight years, by the publication of his
pamphlet, entitled, “The high price of Bullion a
proof of the depreciation of Bank Notes.” This
pamphlet made a great sensation, because it re-
vealed the true cause of the decline of the English
exchange and of the depreciation of bank notes.
Ricardo demonstrated that the increase in prices
which merchandise of all kinds had undergone
was not, as was generally supposed, attributable
to the wars, but rather to the depreciation of paper
money. The ministry did not want to believe in
this depreciation. A bullion committee was ap-
pointed by parliament, and Mr. Horner, who made
the report, admitted that Ricardo's demonstration
was unanswerable, and he proved by the Hamburg
exchange that the value of paper was only 25 per
cent. that of specie. This was the opinion of Hus-
kisson, Canning and Henry Thornton; but the
house of commons made, nevertheless, On the
motion of Mr. Wansittart, chancellor of the ex-
chequer, the singular declaration that paper had
not undergone any depreciation At the head
of the opponents of the ideas and measures Con-
tained in the treatise of Ricardo, and the report of
the committee of the house of commons, was
Mr. Bosanquet, who maintained his opinion in a
pamphlet which provoked a reply from Ricardo,
in the course of this same year (1810). — The next
publication of Ricardo was in 1815, at the time
when the famous bill relative to the exportation
of foreign grain, so often afterward modified and
finally withdrawn, on the motion of Sir Robert
Peel and by the efforts of the free trade league,
was being discussed. In it Ricardo maintained
the principles of commercial liberty, and fore-
shadowed the theory of rent, with which his name
is identified. The year following, he published
another tract on monetary circulation, and pro-
posed, that, in order to keep paper on the same
level as gold and to render it inconvertible, bank
notes should be exchanged for ingots or pieces of
bullion of the standard weight and measure. —
Ricardo retired from business shortly after the
peace of 1815, and applied himself to study with
renewed ardor. In 1816 he arranged his ideas on
economy and finance in their proper relation to
each other in his “Principles of Political Econ-
omy and Taxation.” It is to be remarked, that,
in his preface to this book, he is far from claiming
as his own the theory of rent. He declares, “that
the true doctrine of rent was published simulta-
neously by Malthus, in a pamphlet, entitled, “An
RICARDO.
641
Enquiry into the Nature and Progress of Rent,’
and by a member of the university of Oxford (Dr.
West), in an ‘Essay upon the Application of Cap-
ital to Land'; that without a profound knowledge
of this doctrine it is impossible to conceive of the
effect of taxation upon the different classes of
society, especially when the things taxed are the
direct products of the soil; that Adam Smith and
other distinguished writers, not having considered
the principle of rent correctly, they had neglected
many important truths, the knowledge of which
can be acquired only after having thoroughly
fathomed the nature of rent.” Mr. M'Culloch
(“Principles of Political Economy,” London,
1843), afterward saw that the first idea of this
theory was to be met with in a pamphlet published
forty years previous, in 1777, by an Englishman,
Dr. James Anderson (“An Enquiry into the Corn
Laws”), which seems to have escaped the notice of
Adam Smith, and which was undoubtedly un-
known to Malthus, West and Ricardo. Be that as
it may, we are inclined, together with M'Culloch,
Senior, Rossi, and others, to accord to Ricardo the
honor of the complete demonstration of this theory,
imperfectly seen by Adam Smith, treated of in part
by James Anderson in 1777, treated anew and more
fully in 1815, in the two simultaneous pamphlets
of Malthus and West, and finally expounded with
wonderful clearness by Rossi in his Cours d’Econ-
omie politique. (See RENT.) *— Thanks to these
remarkable publications, to his skill in business,
and to a large fortune, which was stated to be
twelve millions; thanks also to the independence
of his mind and character, Ricardo occupied an
important position in his country. In 1818 he
was returned to parliament by the electors of
Portarlington. Two of his letters testify to his
extreme distrust of his own strength. “You have
seen,” he wrote, April 7, 1814, to one of his friends,
“that I have a seat in the house of commons. I
fear that I shall not be of much use there. I have
twice attempted to speak, but in the most embar-
rassed manner, and have scarcely any hope of be-
ing able to overcome the fright which takes pos-
session of me when I hear my own voice.” “I
thank you,” said he, in another letter, dated June
22, 1814, “for the efforts which you have made
to inspire me with a little courage. The indul-
gence of the house has lessened for me the diffi.
culty of speaking, but I still see so many and such
terrible obstacles, that I fear much that it would
be wiser to confine myself to silent votes.” Every-
thing shows that he was too harsh toward himself
in this judgment. This is how Lord Brougham
* Ricardo has been the subject of many different judg-
ments. Some (Rossi and J. S. Mill being of this number)
regarded him as the first of economists, after Adam Smith;
others place him in the second rank; the truth probably lying
between the two extremes. As a thinker, Ricardo appears to
us superior, original and profound; as a writer, he sometimes
obscures his thought by abstract formulas, the strictness of
which is only apparent, though we do not wish to say that he
is in error when he is obscure. He employs short sentences
when enunciating propositions introduced by hypotheses and
followed by explanations. .
160 VOL. III. — 41
expressed himself with regard to it. “Ricardo's
language had a remarkable stamp of distinction;
his style was clear, simple, correct, and its woof
was enriched with facts and valuable documents.
He practiced abstention in questions which had
not been the object of his long meditation, and,
when he spoke on events and laws concerning the
church or of politics in general, he seemed to be
acting in obedience to the inveterate frankness of
his nature and the indomitable freedom of his
spirit. Hence it was that few men ever exercised
such real effect on parliament; few men have com-
manded such lively attention, and as he had neither
captivating inspirations nor graceful speech, with
which to charm his auditors, this influence may
be regarded as the triumph of reason, of integrity,
of ability. Besides, he commanded the respect
of all parties, even the ministerial, against which
he was constantly fighting; but he would not
submit to the yoke of any coterie, voting with
the opposition, the radicals, or the cabinet, from
judgment and not from tactics or ambition. Al-
though he owed part of his fortune to the nego-
tiation of government loans, he more than once
combated from the tribune that ruinous practice
of governments in general and of the then exist-
ing English government in particular.” — Such
was the man as a politician. As a scholar he was
no less calm, no less independent. During twenty
years he debated with Malthus, with Mill, and
with J. B. Say, without the antagonism of ideas
impairing the friendship which existed between
his illustrious opponents and himself. In private
life, Ricardo's character was at once firm, mild,
simple and amiable; he was an indulgent father,
a kind husband, a devoted friend. He particular-
ly liked to collect about him men of talent, and to
converse freely on all subjects, but principally on
those which were connected with his favorite
science. A most pleasant memory of him is pre-
served by the club of political economy of London,
one of the founders of which he was, and at Paris,
in the circle which J. B. Say and his amiable con-
sort gathered together once a week. It is also said
that his generosity kept pace with his ability:
nearly all the charitable institutions of London
counted him in the number of their patrons, and
he maintained at his own expense an alms-house
and two schools in the neighborhood of his resi-
dence in the county of Gloucester. James Stuart
Mill has said of him : “His history offers a most
encouraging example ; he had everything to do,
and he performed well his task. Let the young
mind which longs to spring beyond the sphere in
which it has been placed not despair, in view of
his great career, of attaining to the highest place
in science or in politics. Ricardo had to make his
fortune, to form his mind and even to begin his
education, without any guide but his penetrating
sagacity, without any encouragement but his en-
ergetic will, and it is thus that, while making an
immense fortune, he broadened his judgment and
endowed his mind with a strength which has never
been surpassed.” — Without being robust, Ricardo
642
RIDERS.
was gifted with a constitution which seemed to
promise him a longer career. But he had for Sev-
eral years a pain in his ear to which he did not
pay much attention, and which assumed a very
alarming character, in September, 1823, after his
return to Gatcom Park at the close of the session.
The rupture of an abscess at first afforded him
some relief, but inflammation set in again, the
brain was attacked, and he died on the 11th of
September,” after two days of great suffering.
He was but fifty-one years old. $
JOSEPH GARNIER.
RIDERS (IN U. S. HISTORY). In the federal
government, and in the state governments also,
with some exceptions (see VETO), a limited veto
power is given to the executive, the president or
the governor. Where a legislative majority is
sufficient to pass a bill, but not to overcome the
veto, a measure which has good reason to fear a
veto is sometimes attached to some very necessary
bill, such as an appropriation bill, and the two are
passed as a single bill, so as to force the executive
either to accept the doubtful measure or to incur
the Odium of a veto of the more essential bill.
Such an addition is commonly called a “rider.”
It is evidently an invasion of the executive prov-
ince. In most of the states it is now forbidden,
1, by requiring every bill to relate to but a single
subject, and that to be expressed in its title, not
in order to lay a ground for adjudication by the
courts, but to give the executive a fair excuse for
the veto; or 2, far more effectively, by giving the
executive the power to veto single clauses in an
appropriation bill, while approving the rest. The
constitution of the confederate states (see that title)
adopted both these remedies; and the second has
been suggested as a very proper amendment to the
constitution of the United States.—I. In the States.
Riders were not familiar in our early history. The
only original state constitution which refers to
them is that of Maryland, 1776. “That the sen-
ate may be at full and perfect liberty to exercise
their judgment in passing laws, and that they may
not be compelled by the house of delegates either
to reject a money bill which the emergency of af-
fairs may require, or to assent to some other act
of legislation in their conscience and judgment
injurious to the public welfare, the house of dele-
gates shall not on any occasion, or under any pre-
tense, annex to or blend with a money bill any
matter, clause or thing not immediately relating
to, and necessary for, the imposing, assessing,
levying or applying the taxes or supplies to be
raised for the support of government, or the cur-
rent expenses of the state.” In Delaware, 1792,
provision was made that no “matter or clause not
immediately relating to and necessary for raising
revenue, be in any manner blended with or an-
nexed to a bill for raising revenue”; and this has
been continued in force ever since. Kentucky,
* The date given by M*Culloch and Fonteyrand. The
“Universal Biography” says the 11th of August of the same
year, but M’Culloch and Fonteyrand must have known best.
1799, provided that the senate “shall not intro-
duce any new matter, under color of an amend-
ment, which does not relate to raising a revenue,”
and renewed it in 1850. The language of this lat-
ter provision was followed by Louisiana in 1812
and in all subsequent constitutions, and by Maine
in 1820. In other states the evil is either still un-
touched, or has been attempted to be remedied in
one of the two modes above specified. The first
method, by requiring single subjects for bills, in-
troduced by New Jersey in 1844, has been imbed-
ded in the state constitutions since the following
years: Alabama, 1865; Arkansas, 1868; California,
1849; Colorado, 1876; Florida, 1868; Georgia, 1865;
Illinois, (private bills and salaries) 1848, (all bills)
1870; Indiana, 1851; Iowa, 1846; Kansas, (Topeka
constitution) 1855, (Lecompton) 1857, (Wyandotte)
1859; Kentucky, 1850; Minnesota, 1857; Missouri,
1865; Nebraska, 1866; Nevada, 1864; New Jersey,
1844; New York (private or local bills), 1846;
Ohio, 1851; Oregon, 1857; Pennsylvania, 1864,
(by amendment), 1873; South Carolina, 1865;
Tennessee, 1870; Texas, 1845; Virginia, 1850;
West Virginia, 1861; Wisconsin (private and local
bills), 1848. In all these it is still in existence.
The second method, the extension of the veto
power to single clauses, is in force in the follow-
ing states, having been introduced by the con-
stitutions of the years named : Alabama, 1875;
Arkansas, 1874; California, 1879; Colorado, 1876;
Florida (amendment in), 1875; Georgia, 1865; Lou-
isiana, 1879; Missouri, 1875; Nebraska, 1875; New
Jersey (amendment in), 1875; New York (amend-
ment in), 1874; Pennsylvania, 1873; Texas, 1866;
West Virginia, 1872. — II. In the Union. The
power of attaching riders to bills has never been
taken away from the national legislature, though
il, llas gradually, by increasing and unnecCSSary
use, come to be looked upon as an illegitimate and
possibly dangerous exercise of power. It would
not be possible here to specify all the instances in
which provisions in the nature of riders have been
added: it is only intended to specify the cases in
which the rider has attracted general attention as
a possible precedent, or has provoked important
opposition. — The first of these was the joining,
by the senate in 1820, of the bill for the admission
of Maine to the Missouri bill permitting slavery,
so as to compel the house to take both or neither.
In this case the two bills were finally separated.
(See CoMPROMISEs, IV.) — In 1849 the territory
acquired from Mexico was still unorganized, the
house being determined to prohibit slavery there-
in, against the wish of the senate. (See ANNEXA-
TIONs, IV.; WILMoT PROvIso; CoMPROMISEs, W.)
In the senate, Feb. 20, while the civil and diplo-
matic appropriation bill, which the house had al-
ready passed, was under consideration, Walker, of
Wisconsin, offered as an amendment a provision
that the constitution and revenue laws be extended
to the still unorganized territory, and that the
president be authorized to enforce them; and this
was adopted Feb. 26. Its object was to secure the
introduction of slaves to the territory, under cover
| RIDERS.
643
of the constitution, though Webster showed con-
clusively that the constitution could not thus be
made a territorial law. But he resisted the rider
mainly on the score of prudence, acknowledging
that it was parliamentary, and that he “could not
say that, if you had a bill under consideration for
abolishing flogging in the navy, you might not
introduce an amendment declaring war with Great
Britain.” The house very ingeniously threw the
Onus back upon the senate, March 2. It did not
reject the rider, but “concurred with the amend-
ment” that the existing (Mexican) laws be contin-
ued in the territory until July 4, 1850, unless sooner
Superseded by organization. As the Mexican law
forbade slavery, this would have fixed the status
of the territory. After midnight of March 3, the
adjournment day, the senate receded from its
amendment, thus getting rid of the house amend-
ment with it, and passed the appropriation bill
without any rider. — The dispersion of the Kan-
sas legislature in July, 1856, by federal troops,
under the president’s order (see KANSAs), was at
‘Once brought up in congress, where the new repub-
lican party controlled the house (see REPUBLICAN
PARTY, I.), while the senate was democratic.
When the army appropriation bill came up, the
house added to it a rider forbidding the employ-
ment of federal troops for the enforcement of the
territorial laws of Kansas, and directing the presi-
dent to protect persons and property, to keep the
peace, to disarm the territorial militia, to prevent
them from attempting to enforce the territorial
laws, and to recall United States arms distributed
in the territory. The senate rejected the amend-
ments; both houses adhered to their position; and
the time fixed for adjournment, Aug. 18, came,
leaving the army bill still unpassed. The presi-
dent, by proclamation, at once called a special
session for Aug. 21. The house again added its
rider, and the Senate again rejected it. Finally
the house yielded, and passed the bill without the
rider by the close vote of 101 to 98; and it became
law Aug. 30. — The great volume of legislation
required by the rebellion made this period prolific
in riders. Thus, the validation of the president's
acts and proclamations of 1861 (see HABEAs COR-
PUs), after failing as a separate bill, was added as
a rider to an act to increase the pay of privates in
the regular army, Aug. 6; and generally the words
“and for other purposes” in the titles of bills be-
come indicative of some hidden or open rider.
None of these provoked special opposition, and
they may be passed over. From the first appear-
ance of the conflict of opinion between President
Johnson and the majority in congress (see RE-
CONSTRUCTION), it was evident that riders would
play an important part. In the Senate, May 2,
1866, a rider was attached to the postoffice ap-
propriation bill, forbidding the payment of sal-
aries to officers until their confirmation by the
senate (see TENURE OF OFFICE); but this was sub-
sequently reconsidered and rejected. During the
next session the conflict became open, and in Feb-
Tuary, 1867, the army appropriation bill was passed
with two important riders. The second section of
the bill enacted that the orders of the president.
and secretary of war to the army should only be
given through the general of the army (Gen.
Grant); that the latter should not be relieved, re-
moved or transferred from Washington without
the previous approval of the senate; and that any
officer who should transmit or obey orders, except
through the general of the army, should be pun-
ishable by imprisonment for from two to twenty
years. The sixth section ordered the immediate
disbanding of the militia forces of the unrecon-
structed states. March 2, 1867, the president
signed the bill, but protested against the riders,
as attempts to deprive him of his functions as
commander-in-chief, and ten states of their right
to control their own militia, both of which were
given by the constitution, not by congress. These
sections were preliminary steps to the impeach-
ment of Johnson. (See IMPEACHMENTS, WI.)—
Jan. 13, 1868, while a bill to make five, instead of .
six, of the Supreme Court judges a quorum, a
most important rider was added, providing that
no decision against the constitutionality of a fed-
eral law should be valid without the concurrence
of two-thirds of the judges therein. The senate
did not consider it. — There was no further im-
portant party contest in congress on riders (but
See AMNESTY) until 1872. June 7, three days be-
fore final adjournment, Senator Kellogg, of Louis-
iana, suddenly moved to add to the civil appro-
priation bill a general election law, authorizing
the oversight and control of elections by federal
supervisors, which the Senate had already passed,
but which the democratic minority in the house
was opposing with a probability of success. There
are no rules in the senate to limit debate, but in
the case of appropriation bills, and “such amend-
ments as directly relate to the appropriations,”
the senate minority had agreed to limit each sen-
ator to five minutes’ debate. The democratic sen-
ators alleged that the introduction of this amend-
ment was a breach of faith; but the republican
majority decided it to be germane. Sumner, un-
der this ruling, endeavored also to get in his sup-
plementary civil rights bill (see that title), but the
senate rejected it, and passed the amendment.
Much the same objection was made in the house,
but after several conferences the amendment was
adopted. It amended an act of Feb. 28, 1871,
by allowing the appointment of federal supervis-
ors of election in any county or congressional dis-
trict where ten citizens should request it from the
federal circuit judge, with the proviso that the
supervisors appointed under it should “llave no
power or authority to make arrests,” only to wit-
ness the election, the counting of the votes, and
the making of the returns. The bill was thus
passed, under a suspension of the rules, by a vote
of 102 to 79, and in the senate by a vote of 39 to
§:
17. – Feb. 24, 1873, an amendment was moved
to the legislative appropriation bill, increasing the
salary of the president to $50,000; those of the
vice-president, Supreme Court justices, secretaries
644
RIDERS.
and speaker of the house to $10,000; and of the
senators and representatives to $7,500 and travel-
ing expenses. It passed both houses, and became
law, March 3. The increase of salary to con-
gressmen included the members of the congress
which had voted it; and hence the increase, pop-
ularly known as “the salary grab,” proved to be
highly unpopular. (See SALARY GRAB.)— Feb.
25, 1865, an act, introduced by a democratic sen-
ator from Kentucky, became law. Originally it
forbade, under penalties, the bringing of any
troops to an election place in any state “unless
it be necessary to repel the armed enemies of the
United States,” but the republican majority added
thereto the words “ or to keep the peace at the
polls.” In this form it became, in 1874, §§ 2002
and 5528 of the Revised Statutes. The general
election law of May 30, 1870, amended Feb. 28,
1871, authorized the appointment, by federal cir-
cuit judges, of two supervisors of elections for
congressmen, to personally count every ballot, but
not, as above amended in 1872, to make arrests.
Both of these provisions were disliked by the
democrats, and they also complained of unfair-
ness shown by clerks of federal courts in making
up grand jury lists. During the session of 1876–7
the democratic majority in the house had passed
the army appropriation bill with a rider forbidding
the employment of the army in sustaining the re-
constructed southern state governments. . The
senate refused to concur, and congress adjourned
in March without passing the appropriation bill.
The army was unpaid until, at the special session
of Oct. 15, an army appropriation bill was passed
without the rider. One section of the general
election law allowed the marshal or his deputies,
in case of resistance to arrest, to call in the posse
comitatus to assist them ; and in 1876 the attor-
ney general decided that the federal troops might
be summoned as a posse. In 1878 a rider was
added to the army appropriation bill, forbidding
the use of federal troops as a posse, except in
cases where it was “expressly authorized by
the constitution or by act of congress,” and
the bill was approved June 18, 1878. This initial
success encouraged the democrats to attack the
whole body of legislation above specified, in
which was contained most of the legislation under
which troops could still be employed. Their de-
termination to do so was stimulated by the elec-
tions of 1878, which made it certain that the suc-
ceeding congress would be democratic in both
branches. If the still republican senate should
obstinately resist the riders, and force a special
session after March, a concurrent house and sen-
ate would then be arrayed against the president
alone, who had not hitherto had any effective sup-
port from his own party. (See HAYES, R. B.)
The struggle began early in February, 1879. The
house passed the army appropriation bill, with a
rider re-enacting § 2002 and 5528, without the:
words “to keep the peace at the polls,” and the
legislative, executive and judicial appropriation
bill, with riders repealing the essence of the gen-
eral election law, forbidding the payment of any
money to supervisors, etc., and changing the
grand jury law so as to have the list arranged by
members of both political parties. The senate
struck out all the riders; the two houses disagreed;
the bills failed to pass; and both parties “appealed
to the country” on the final adjournment. March
4, President Hayes called a special session of the
new congress for March 18. Its meeting was the
signal for a political tournament of about two
months, in which the democrats declared their
purpose to wipe out the remnants of war legisla-
tion, and the republicans charged their opponents
with a design to “starve the government to
death,” since they had failed to “shoot it to
death.” The principal results of the session were
the partial success of the democrats, the renewed
support of the president by his party, and the rec-
ognition of Garfield as an unusually able party
leader. The army bill was first passed with its
rider, and was vetoed, April 30, on the grounds
that there was plenty of time to pass both political
bills and appropriation bills, and that the junction
of the two was an attempt to coerce the president,
and possibly, in the future, the senate also, and to
enable the house to dictate permanently whatever
legislation it might see fit to attach to appropria-
tion bills. The democratic majority was but eight
in the senate, and seven in the house; so that the
bill was not passed over the veto. Another army
appropriation bill, omitting the original rider, and
substituting another forbidding the use of any
money for the transportation or subsistence of
troops for service at the polls in any state, was
passed toward the end of the session, and ap-
proved June 23. The original rider had first been
passed as a separate bill, and vetoed May 12. The
executive, legislative and judicial appropriation
bill, with its riders, was then passed, and was
vetoed May 29. June 10–14, two appropriation
bills were passed: the first, for the executive and
legislative expenses, without any riders, was ap-
proved June 21; the second, for the courts alone,
with the riders which had caused the veto of the
whole bill, was vetoed June 23, on the grounds
that there were but two proper methods of over-
throwing existing legislation, by repeal, or through
the courts, and that the riders simply forbade the
executive to execute laws yet unrepealed. July
1, congress adjourned, leaving the courts unpro-
vided for. It was suggested that the president
should continue calling special sessions until con-
gress was willing to pass an appropriation bill for
the courts; but this extreme, though legitimate,
measure was not put in force. The courts and
court officers went unpaid until the following ses-
sion, when the struggle was renewed in a milder
form. The democrats passed a judiciary bill,
with a proviso that special deputy marshals should
be selected from the different political parties, and
should be of good moral character. This was also
vetoed May 4, 1880, as a bad precedent of an in-
direct repeal of a law. The bill was then passed
without an appropriation for special deputies.
RIU KIU.
645
The army appropriation bill of May 4, renewed
the rider forbidding payment for transportation
or subsistence of troops for service at the polls in
any state.—See (I.) Poore's Federal and State Com-
stitutions; 2 Hough's American Constitutions, 657,
a summary of provisions as to veto power in the
states, as they stood in 1872; the variations in this
article are subsequent changes; (II.) see Congres-
sional Globe and Congressional Record, under the
several dates; 16 Benton’s Debates of Congress,
306; 1 Greeley’s American Conflict, 195; 2 Wil-
son’s Rise and Fall of the Slave Power, 29, 505;
and Statutes at Large and Revised Statutes, under
the dates and sections named.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
RIGHT OF INHERITANCE. (See INHERIT-
ANCE.)
RIGHT OF PETITION. (See PETrrios,
RIGHT OF.)
RIU KIU. The demands of practical politics
in Asia are compelling the issue of a problem that
has, especially since the opening of this century,
been awaiting solution. The extension of Euro-
pean interests in the far east has had the tendency,
not only to force China to define her relations
with the nations of the west, but also with those
on or near her borders. For many centuries the
centre of culture to more than half of the largest,
the most populous and the most varied continent
of earth, China, has divided the world into two
portions : the middle (China), and the foreign (all
other nations). The outlying people were “bar-
barians,” and all holding relations with her were
reckoned as tributaries or vassals. The investi-
ture bestowed upon each, and the actual recep-
tion, by the Chinese “Son of Heaven,” of gifts
which were considered as marks of homage from
almost every country, from the Caspian Sea to
Japan, and from the Malay archipelago to the
frozen tundras of Siberia, are recorded in the
Chinese court annals. Even the embassies from
Tome, India, Venice, and the modern kingdoms
of Europe, were registered as “tribute bearers.”
China’s form of the doctrine of the ‘‘Divine
Right” to rule all nations, is expressed in the title
of her emperors, Whang-Ti, Heavenly Dynasty,
or Theocratic emperor. Western governments in
Christendom have compelled a change in diplo-
matic language as regards themselves, but the
tone of oriental mock-courtesy or real loyalty to
the Chinese emperor is still very abject, however
independent such countries as Annam or Corea
may in actuality be. Almost alone of China's
neighbors, Japan has asserted and maintained ab-
solute political independence, though Siam is rap-
idly following her example. China, now pressed
on all sides by European enterprise and ambition,
finds that she must maintain her old claims, or
suffer the presence of frontagers who, instead of
manifesting the demeanor of childlike suppliants,
bear the attitude of jealous defiance. Since she
lost, by the diplomacy of Ignatieff in 1860, the
Amoor region and maritime provinces touching
the Pacific and Corea — a territory as large as
France—she has firmly resisted all further en-
croachments. Wresting Ili from Russia, she fur-
ther manifested her policy by warning off the
Japanese from Formosa in 1876, by demanding Riu
Riu from Japan, by garrisoning Seoul with her
soldiery after the Corean uprising in July, 1880, by
military defense of her frontier against suspected
Russian aggression, and by informing France of
her determination to defend her vassal Tonquin
against invasion, annexation or protectorate. The
problem is further complicated, not only in the
case of Riu Kiu, but in that of others, as in the
Indo-Chinese peninsula, by the fact that these
petty kingdoms have for centuries rendered hom-
age and paid tribute to two countries: to the near-
est and less powerful, and to Supreme China—to
the distant “Son of Heaven º’ and ‘‘Lord of Ten
Thousand Chariots” in Peking. So long as the
ordinary conditions of Asiatic statecraft were un-
vexed with modern and western ideas, this state
of things could go on undisturbed. The entrance
of Russians, French and British on the scene as
neighbors, and extra-territorial residents, has com-
plicated the problem. — Of Riu Kiu (Sleepy Dra-
gon), a group of thirty-seven Sugar and rice pro-
ducing islands stretching like a long rope (okina-
wa) from Satsuma to Formosa, with a population
of over 166,000 souls, we may say that it needs a
Solomon to pronounce upon its parentage. Like
a babe between two maternal claimants, it is in
danger of the sword and of division. The Riu
Kiu people are, in Origin, language and dynasty,
true Japanese, but being powerless between the
two great rival empires, Japan and China, they
have endeavored to keep the friendship of both
by tribute and acknowledgment of submission to
either. Thirty-six Chinese families from Fu-kien
settled in the islands in A. D. 1372, and encouraged
trade, friendship and relations of culture and sub-
mission to the Chinese court, which were not in.
terrupted by the Japanese. Before this time and
afterward, however, Riu Kiu was a feudal de-
pendency of Satsuma, and was so dealt with by
the Japanese shöguns, and the junk-load of gifts
sent annually to China was permitted as merely
“an exchange of neighborly courtesies.” On ac-
count of their evident reluctance to fill their quota
of war material, ordered by Hidéyoshi when about
to invade Corea in 1592, the prince of Satsuma,
in 1609, after the Corean War and civil trouble in
Japan were over, made an expedition to Riu Kiu,
and completely subdued the principality, sent the
king Shonei as prisoner to Yedo, and after a
thorough reformation of administration in the
islands, the daimiós of Satsuma were confirmed
in their possession of Riu Kiu, keeping Shonei as
hostage for three years, while the laws and cus-
toms of his dominions were being assimilated to
those of Japan. Upon his accession to Office,
each prince of Riu Kiu took an oath of allegiance
to the daimió of Satsuma, and Japan treated Riu.
646
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
Kiu as an integral portion of the empire.
of famine, food was sent to relieve the starving,
and indemnity was exacted from the Formosan
pirates for depredations upon Riu Kiu sailors.
Commodore M. C. Perry, in 1853, acted upon the
principle that Riu Kiu was a dependency of Ja-
pan, and though modifying his view after a stay
of some months in China, he finally made an
agreement with the regent of Riu. Kiu, which,
however, contained no statement of the political
status of the island kingdom. In 1872, after the
abolition of feudalism in Japan, Riu Kiu was
made a province (han), and the chief, Sho-tai,
a governor (han-wo). In 1874, Riu Kiu was
brought directly under control of the home de-
partment, and the custom of sending presents or
tribute to China was forbidden. In the diplo-
matic correspondence between Peking and Tö-
kiö, relative to the Formosan affair in 1874, China
distinctly recognized the Riu Kiuans (who had
been killed by the Formosan Savages) as Japan-
ese subjects. The Chinese envoys to Japan in
1878 protested against the Japanese Occupation
of Riu Kiu and their interdict on tribute to
China, demanding that the old Status quo of the
islands should be restored. Terashima, the mika-
do's minister (and now envoy at Washington),
objecting to their offensive language, cut off fur-
ther negotiation. On April 4, 1879, the Riu Kiu
ham (province) was abolished, and the okinawa
ken (prefecture) established, while Sho-tai, the
chief, was ordered to reside, like the former dai-
miós, or feudal chiefs now retired, in Tökiö. The
discussion was now opened at Peking, but with
little progress, until, in 1879, Prince Kung re-
ferred the matter to Gen. U. S. Grant, then visit-
ing China and about to go to Japan. After his ar-
rival in Tökiö, and consideration of the evidence
on both sides, Gen. Grant advised the withdrawal
of previous dispatches and the appointment of
plenipotentiary commissioners to settle the diffi-
culty. The commission began its sittings in Pe-
king, Aug. 15, 1880, and the negotiations continued .
during three months. On Oct. 21 the drafts of the
treaty which was expected to end the controversy
were ready for signature. It provided that the
boundary line between the two empires should
be drawn at about the twenty-fifth parallel of
north latitude; that Yayé-yama and Miako islands
should belong to China, but all northward should
belong to Japan. The treaty, as agreed upon by
the high commissioners, was to be signed within
ten days; but after sixteen days had elapsed, the
Tsung-li Yamen notified Mr. Shishido, the mika-
do’s envoy, that by imperial order the treaty was
to be submitted to the northern and southern Su-
perintendents of trade, and others, for considera-
tion and further report. This amazing violation,
by the Peking government, of the principles of in-
ternational law and common courtesy, in remand-
ing the Solemn decisions of a plenipotentiary com-
mission—to which, on the recommendation of an
eminent American citizen, Japan had, in good faith
and covenant with China, Submitted her case—to
In time
other parties, is thus adjudged by the Hon. J. B.
Angell, minister of the United States to China:
“Even if they [the Chinese] have justice on their
side, in opposing the seizure of the islands by Ja-
pan, they could not well contrive a better way to
alienate the sympathy of all civilized nations from
them in the assertion of their rights than by the
course which, if we accept the statement of Mr.
Shishido, they have now seen fit to take in their
negotiations with Japan.” On Jan. 20, 1881,
nearly five months after the commission had fin-
ished its labors, and after repeated remonstrances,
Mr. Shishido, the mikado's commissioner, left.
Peking, since which time the Japanese govern-
ment have steadily refused to reopen the question
with China. Whether by war, by diplomacy, or
by arbitration, the solution of the long-standing
problem of China's claim to sovereignty over pu-
pil or neighbor nations seems probable, and may
take place before the end of this century. Neither
Japan, with her new sense of nationality, nor Eu-
ropean nations in this age of liberty, are inclined
to respect a claim that seems more antiquated.
and anachronistic as such a figment as the holy
Roman empire and such a doctrine as the divine
right of kings to reign settle below the world's.
horizon. —LITERATURE. M. C. Perry's The Ja-
pam Fapedition; Transactions of the Asiatic Society
of Japan, vol. i. ; files of The Japan Mail and
Japan Gazette; The Chrysanthemum (Yokohama)
of March, 1883; Diplomatic correspondence of the
United States, 1881, 1882. .
- W.M. ELLIOT GRIFFIS.
RIVER AND HARBOR BILLS. (See IN-
TERNAL IMPROVEMENTS.)
ROADS. (See TRANSPORTATION, MEANS OF.).
ROADS AND CANALS. (See INTERNAL.
IMPROVEMENTS.) -
ROHMER'S DOCTRINE OF PARTIES.
(See PARTIES, POLITICAL.)
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. The object
of the present article is, in the first place, to pre-
sent a condensed exposition of all those provisions.
of the constitution of the Catholic church which
are of any importance for the political understand-
ing of ecclesiastical questions, and then of those
principles of that same constitution which have
to do with the relation of the Catholic church to
the state and to other confessions, etc.: the whole
from the point of view, and according to the
teaching, of the Catholic church itself.” –I. Na-
ture and Mission of the Church. The Catholic
church, according to its own dogmatic teaching,
is the body or community of all those who are
* This article is intended neither as an argument for, nor
as an attack upon, the Catholic church. It is a simple state-
ment of its own doctrines, written by a deep thinker pro-
foundly versed in its doctrines and laws. See note at the:
close of the article.—ED. -
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
647
united in the faith in Jesus Christ, a community
founded by Jesus Christ, the Son of God, to the
end that, within its fold, the individual may work
out his eternal salvation. To effect this his pur-
pose, Christ—for the continuation of the func-
tions which he performed during his earthly life,
and for the application of the spiritual means of
the Sacraments bequeathed by him to this com-
munity—at the same time established his aposto-
late, charged with the task and endowed with the
power of appointing successors who should, unto
the end of time, labor toward the restoration
willed by Christ, and purchased for them by his
incarnation and death, viz., the restoration of all
nations to the true faith, and effecting through
that faith, their entrance into the kingdom of God.
To preserve the true faith unaltered forever,
God promised and sent the Holy Ghost, the divine
Spirit, to the church, to remain with it throughout
all time. The Catholic Church, founded by Christ,
is the only true (unica, una) one; it is of direct
divine institution, built on the apostles chosen by
Christ himself, and on their successors, descended
from them, in an uninterrupted series, by spiritual
generation or ordination (ecclesia apostolica); it has
been called to be universal (catholica) both in time
and space, and to receive into its bosom all those
who fulfill the conditions which Christ attached
to entrance into his community; unto it is granted,
through its instruments of grace, the power to
make man the child of God, to help him to fulfill
his religious destiny and to sanctify him (ecclesia
sancta). But, to do this, the church must be every-
where recognizable, external and visible (ecclesia
easterna, visibilis). To this end it has received,
in the fundamental features of it, a definite con-
stitution, with the church's central point in the
bishop of Rome, the successor to the priority
conferred by Christ on Peter, that is to say, to the
primacy among the apostles, and therefore, in the
bishop of Rome as the visible vicar of Christ.
Hence the church is an ecclesia, catholica, apostolica
Romana. In order that the church may not err
in matters pertaining to the faith, that is, in gen-
eral, in its teaching, concerning all those doctrines
on the acceptance of which membership in the
Christian community depends (the dogmas of the
church), or in those precepts the observance of
which is a condition to the salvation of the indi-
vidual (the fundamental doctrines of morals), it
is, by the constant dwelling within it of the Holy
Ghost, endowed with infallibility for all time
(ecclesia infallibilis). Thus, the Catholic church
represents itself, not merely as a subjective com.
munity of Christian believers, but also as an ob-
jective community, as the only easternal visible in-
stitution founded by Christ for the realization of
his kingdom. Its foundation is the doctrine of
faith and morals proclaimed by Christ himself,
and preserved, first, in the recognized sacred books
of the New Testament (Bible), which, according
to the universal belief of the church, were written
under divine inspiration, and secondly, in the oral
tradition of the church. The church is, accord-
ingly, the fulfillment of the promise made by God
after the fall, the institution for which he prepared
the Way under the old dispensation; so that Chris-
tianity is not the abolition but the fulfillment of
Judaism; and therefore the sacred books of the
latter (the Old Testament) in as far as they do not
exclusively relate to national, ceremonial and like
affairs, preserve their authority in Christianity. —
Hence the aim and object of the church is not the
establishment of an earthly kingdom; it is not a
kingdom of this world; its interests are not secular,
but religious and spiritual; its mission is to restore
harmony between the cravings of the sensitive fac-
ulty and the commands of God, to bring it to pass
that the individual, through faith, and through
the grace accorded by God to all, may will his own
Salvation, and with freedom, by works conforma-
ble to the faith, labor for his salvation. Accord-
ing to the teaching of the Catholic church, it is
not mere faith in Christ that insures salvation, but
faith in Christ, and works corresponding to that
faith; a life in, and conformable to, the faith. Al-
though, according to its dogmas, entrance into its
Communion is a condition to salvation (eactra ec-
clesiaſm, nulla Salus), the attaching of the conse-
quences which follow the non-fulfillment of that
Condition presupposes knowledge, and an act of
the will refusing to enter it. Hence the church
does not condemn those of a faith other than its
Own. — In this world, the church fulfills its task
through the mediation of a visible institution, and
through means, connected with visible symbols
and forms; visible, because intended for men who,
as visible, external beings, are bound to and can
not escape such forms. Those of the church who
have ended their earthly career, immediately enter
into a state of perfection, of beatitude in the con-
templation of God (church triumphant), or remain
in a middle state of purification (purgatory), (the
church suffering). These, together with the faith-
ful in this world still working out their salvation
in the earthly struggle (church militant), constitute
the communion of Saints (communio Sanctorum);
through this communion the merits of the saints
may be applied to those on earth, and the prayers
of the living avail those undergoing the purifica-
tion of purgatory. Only the church on earth
(the church militant) has anything to do with
human law. It enters into the domain of law be-
cause of the action which it desires to and must
exercise on men, even on all men, because of the
external means it employs, and finally because of
its compact, visible organization. But its mis-
Sion, nevertheless, is not an earthly and human
one; hence, by its very nature, it is not dependent
on any power whatever, nor conditioned by any
such power; the church must fulfill its mission,
wherever and as soon as it has the means to fulfill
it; because with the possibility to fulfill it comes
its duty to fulfill it. As regards the individual
Catholic, the external fulfillment of his duty con-
sists in the life in the church, and according to
the teachings of the church. And this supposes:
participation in external divine worship (cultus);
648
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
participation in the means of grace, in each ac-
cording to the circumstances of life (the sacra-
ments); the fulfillment of the commands which
the church teaches as directly divine, or which it
proclaims itself by virtue of the power granted it
(profession of the dogmas of the church, and ob-
servance of the precepts of morals). When the
acts of individuals are external, they become sub-
ject to human law (forum easternum); but when
these acts are entirely internal, they belong to the
domain of conscience (forum internum). — II.
Constitution and Administration of the Church.
1. Persons. The constitution of the church, or of
the Society which constitutes the church, is that
of a Societas &ndequalis, as it was called even in the
middle ages. That society is divided into two
different and separate classes: first, the clergy,
the body which embraces all persons chosen to
guide the church, to administer the means of
grace left it, and to act as mediators of salvation
to individuals; and Secondly, the laymen, the peo-
ple, the collective body of the faithful, subject to
the guidance of the clergy. Sometimes the for-
mer are called the teaching, ruling or governing
church, and the latter the learning or obeying
church. The mark that distinguishes these classes
each from the other, is ordination, bestowed on
the clergy by a bishop, which is, as it were, an
act of spiritual generation, and of itself confers
the faculty (facultas Spiritualis) of administering
or dispensing the Spiritual means of grace be-
queathed to the church. There is a gradation in
holy orders, according as this administration of
the Sacraments, or means of grace, by the very
nature of that administration, supposes a power
which does not reside in man as such, and which,
therefore, can not be acquired or conferred with-
out the indwelling capacity to confer it, in the
person who confers it; or according as it may
|be exercised by purely human faculties. The
priests (presbyteri, Sacerdotes), through the sacra-
ment of holy Orders (the external sign consisting
in the imposition of hands by the bishop, the in-
vocation of the Holy Ghost, and anointment), re-
ceive the grace and especially the power of chang-
ing the bread and wine into the body and blood of
Christ, and hence of performing the sacred func-
tion which is the central point of divine worship
in the Catholic church. They are intrusted with
thc guidance of the life of the church in detail.
Above the priests stand the bishops, as successors
of the apostles, endowed with the plenitude of the
priesthood, a plenitude which manifests itself in
the Spiritual power to grant admission into the
ranks of the clergy, and especially into the priest-
hood and episcopate. The bishops become such by
virtue of a special act called consecration, and are
looked upon as the holders, necessarily and un-
Conditionally called for the government of the
Church, of the fullness of power deposited in the
Church. From the bishops the other members of
the clergy derive their powers, as well as the ex-
ternal right (called jurisdictio in the language of
the church) of exercising the spiritual faculties
which have been granted them. The episcopate
is, therefore, the exclusive guide and ruler of the
church, and this by virtue of its position in the
church; its power is the ordinary 7tar, $éox'ſ v,
and hence is also called, by way of eminence, juris-
dictio ordinaria; if any one else is invested with
an analogous authority, it is only by way of fic-
tion. The priestly and episcopal dignity is indel-
ibly stamped on the individual; or, in theological
language, it impresses on the Soul a character ºn-
delebilis, so that the priest or the bishop may, in-
deed, be deprived of his right as such, but never
of his purely spiritual power. Hence there al-
ways exists between them and laymen a profound
spiritual ineffaceable difference. Below the priests,
there are six other grades of the clergy (deacons,
subdeacons, acolytes, exorcists, lectors, Ostiaries),
the members of which have no similar specific
functions to perform, and to whom, on that ac-
count, the indelible character of the priesthood is
not imputed. Their duties, in our day, in the
church, are practically nothing; but in themselves
these duties consist in taking care of the poor, at-
tending the sick, and in discharging the humbler
services in the church. Among the clergy are
reckoned, moreover, all who have received the
tonsure, and who are thus externally distinguished
from laymen. The clergy are further divided into
the secular clergy, and the regular clergy, belong-
ing to the religious orders. The former embrace
all who are subject only to the law applicable to
the clergy, and, speaking relatively, to the law ap-
plicable to all the faithful in general; the latter in-
clude all those who live in accordance with a par-
ticular rule (regula, hence clerus regularis) obliga-
tory upon them only by virtue of their own vol-
untary act. A person belonging to a religious or
monastic body need not have received any of the
degrees of holy orders, so that here the difference
is not a practical one. — The Seven degrees of holy
orders are divided into the higher orders (priests,
deacons and subdeacons) and minor Orders. All
of them confer certain rights and impose duties
which it is not necessary to enumerate here. —
At the summit of the episcopate, as head of the
church, is the pope. The pope and the bishops
are the necessary, independent rulers of the church.
They represent the teaching, governing church.
Their representation of the church takes place in
a general council; such council can not, in the
very nature of things, be always nor even fre-
quently assembled. Hence, from the beginning,
the guidance of the church by the episcopate was
practically this: each bishop obtained (and obtains)
a portion of the domain of the church, as his ex-
clusive field of activity, within which he executes
the mission of the church as teacher, priest and
administrator of its laws. To the episcopal Office,
the only and fundamental one in the government
of the church, there have in time been associated
other authorities or bodies, the existence of which,
not resting on any necessity, is a result of histor-
ical development, and consequently remains sub-
ject to that development in the future. — Hence
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
649
the constitutional and administrative organism of
the church is the following: The territorial domain
of the church is divided into dioceses. The oc-
cupant and ruler of each diocese or see is a bishop
(episcopus diaºcesanus, ordinarius). Several dioceses
constitute an ecclesiastical province (provincia ec-
clesiastica) under a metropolitan, who, however, is
only a judge of second resort, who is empowered
to visit the dioceses of his suffragans, governed by
clearly defined provisions, who has besides a few
other powers, but whose office has by no means
a complete intermediate degree of authority. In
the early days of the church, Several provinces
constituted a patriarchate (Italy, the Roman; one
at Constantinople, and one at Jerusalem, Antiochia
and Alexandria respectively). The modern patri-
archates, those just mentioned, those of Venice and
Lisbon, and that of the Armenians and Maronites,
are merely nominal, and without any juridical
importance. — The union of the bishops with the
pope is effected by the constant intercourse that
naturally results from the ever-recurring need of
papal acts and decisions for the several dioceses,
and also by the duty of the ordinaries of present-
ing themselves from time to time before the pope,
to give an account of the condition of their dioceses
in everything that pertains to the church; by the
sending out of papal legates; but, above all, by
the oath of fidelity or oath of obedience, which
every bishop takes to the pope at his consecration.
Finally, the intercourse of the pope with the faith-
ful (both ecclesiastics and laymen) affords him a
means of obtaining information concerning the
condition of the several churches, since every one
is free, subject, of course, to rational rules, to
communicate with the pope. — In the guidance
and government of the dioceses the bishops are
assisted, so far as the entire diocese is concerned :
1. By chapters (metropolitan chapters, cathedral
chapters, etc.). These sprung by degrees from
the clergy of the bishop's city, and particularly
from the clergy of the bishop's church; from the
sixth to the ninth century, they led a life in com-
mon (vita communis), after the pattern of monks,
subject to a rule; later they assumed, more and
more, the character of independent corporations,
a character which they still retain. The bishop is
required to obtain their consent to certain acts,
and to seek their advice as to others; leaving these
cases out of consideration, cases which are dis-
tinctly defined in the law of the church, the bishop
is not bound by the chapters nor obliged to choose
his assistants in the administration of his diocese
from among them, although practically he does so
everywhere. 2. The vicars general (vicarii genera-
Jes), who were originally, particularly in Germany,
appointed as a counterpoise to the excessive juris-
diction of the archdeacons, and who by degrees
maintained their position as permanent assistants
by reason of the great extent of the dioceses and
the frequent absence of the bishops. 3. Suffragan
bishops (vicarii in pontificalibus). These are real
bishops, consecrated with a title to dioceses which
formerly existed, but which are now in the hands
of the infidels (in Asia and Africa). These bishops
are appointed by the pope at the request of the
bishop, and, as mandataries of the bishop, perform
episcopal spiritual functions. They are given only
to cardinal bishoprics, to great dioceses, and to
those in which such suffragan bishops are tradi-
tional. 4. Officials, with the same historical devel-
opment and position as the vicars general, but lim-
ited to the exercise of juridical authority.—In our
days a formal tribunal for this purpose is usually
appointed (with a president and at least four coun-
cilors), a tribunal which the bishop constitutes as
he wishes. In like manner, there is generally ap-
pointed an official body for the administration of
the diocese, under the presidency of the ordinary
or of his vicar general.-- For the separate districts.
The dioceses are divided into archdeaneries, dean-
eries, and district vicariates, at the head of which,
named by the bishop (also by the clergy of the
diocese, and confirmed by the bishop), there is
an arch-priest, dean and district vicar, to whom
belongs the supervision of the clergy in their
office, of their moral conduct, the administration
of the property of the church, and, as a rule, the
schools for the children of the people. The dean,
etc., is required to visit his district every year, and
conscientiously to report its condition and the state
of its accounts, and to examine the parish books;
he is the medium of communication of the bishop
with the clergy, and of the addresses or petitions
of the latter to the episcopal authorities. He has
no jurisdiction, but only the right to make ex-
postulations, remonstrances, etc. A district of
this kind embraces an indefinite number of par-
ishes (parochia), each governed by a parish priest
(parochus). The parish priest, accordingly, is the
most important helpmate of the bishop. The
parish priest has, as assistants, vicars, chaplains,
curates, etc., who are appointed and removed by
the bishop. — 2. Objects of the Church’s Action.
It clearly follows, from what has been said, that
the life of the individual, in its totality, is the prop-
er object of the action of the church, inasmuch
as the mission of the church consists in this: to
remove all contradiction, in man, between his will
and the commands of God, that is, to bring per-
fect harmony into all his actions. Its efforts,
therefore, by no means aim at doing away with
natural (national, political) relations or conditions,
but only at bringing them into harmony with
Christian conditions, that is, at raising the prin-
ciples, ideas and maxims that move individuals
and nations in their doings, to the height of
Christian principles, ideas and maxims. Hence it
strives not to remove or destroy the external, spe-
cial, peculiar stamp given to individuals and na-
tions by their character, land and climate; but
only to concentrate them, in their final end, on the
goal to which religion tends, that is, on the world
beyond. This sufficiently explains why the church
has endeavored to leave its impress, and actually
has left it, on all nations, on their different classes
and on their condition, changing and transforming
them; why it has endeavored to banish, and, by
650
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
its influence, for the most part, has banished, from
civil, penal, public and international law, every
principle which was based on heathen views, or
was in conflict with its own principles, or which
stood as an external obstacle in the way of the
full development of its doctrine. It is intelligible,
that the church endeavored to exert, and actually
exerted, a direct influence here, because it con-
sidered that in this manner it could most fittingly
secure the actual operation and enforcement of
Christian principles. Thus, during the middle
ages, we see an infinity of objects drawn into its
domain, with which, at a first glance, it would
seem to have nothing to do. Men, in our day, are
accustomed to look upon all this as a transcending
of power, as evidence of the usurpation of the cler-
gy, and the ambition of popes; they forget, that in
looking at it through the spectacles of the nine-
teenth century they are judging not historically,
but only critically. Denied it can not be, that all
civilized nations have been educated by the Cath-
olic church; that through it a Christian founda-
tion was given to the state, and a new civilization
introduced into all the departments of social life
and of the life of the law. How deeply the neces-
sity of the position the church assumed here, was
rooted in the circumstances of the time and in the
mission of the church and the state, in those ages,
is sufficiently evinced by the fact, that this action
of the church met with almost no opposition. All
resistance before the sixteenth century was di-
rected only against certain matters of detail. But,
although the practical action of the church still
may extend, or historically has extended, into
every sphere, it can not be ignored that its direct
action, so far as its end and mission are concerned,
has not so broad an aim now, and that conse-
quently no place in things non-essential belongs
to it, that none such is necessary or can appear
necessary to it, and that it has no right to such a
place. Rather can the direct, immediate and ever-
legitimate aim of the church be this and this only:
man in his moral and religious relations. If the
church here attains its object, harmony will of
itself follow. Nothing, therefore, would be more
foolish than for the clergy of the Catholic church
to long for the recovery of worldly rights, honors
and titles, as did the Jews for the flesh pots of
Egypt. If the clergy be truly spiritual, and not
worldly, if they keep in view, not only in the pul-
pit, but in their own body, alone and in connec-
tion with others, the honor of God, the salvation
of their neighbor, and, finally, their own supreme
end and esteem; if they only do all this, honor,
and, what is of paramount importance, their own
greatest efficiency for the elevation of society, will
be better secured than if human laws prescribed
that any homage should be paid them. — Hence,
what immediately and necessarily comes within
the province of the church is, in the first place, the
preaching of the divine word, that is, instruction
in the Christian religion. Its founder has im-
posed on it the imperative duty to preach the
word, and, therefore, given it the right to do so.
It may, indeed, for a time be prevented, by cir-
cumstances beyond its control, from exercising
that right, but it can never, in principle, abandon
it, nor require any external recognition of it. This
task of the church is called the potestas magisterii.
To it belongs the religious instruction of its mem-
bers, whether imparted in higher institutions of
learning or in public schools, since it would be in-
consistent to want the church, and at the same
time to question its exclusive right of instruction
in the faith. If there be no doubt in this matter,
there is a doubt as to how far the influence of the
church in the public schools should extend. No
one will assert that the public schools have simply
the duty to equip the child with knowledge. They
are also called upon to educate and to train it, in
the proper sense of the word; but education with-
out religious principles is a radically vicious one.
It is likewise manifest, that, since the majority of
young people, on leaving the schools, cease accu-
mulating fresh stores of knowledge, what they
have acquired at school remains with most men
the basis of their actions through life. But from
this it clearly follows that the church, in respect
of the public schools, can not confine itself to the
task of merely imparting religious instruction, but
must claim and have a considerable influence in
the business of education in general.” The means
employed by the church in the exercise of its func-
tions as teacher, are religious instruction to the
youth at School (teaching of the catechism), in the
church (Sunday School teaching), sermons, in-
struction by pastoral letters, etc., and, finally, by
books. – When, through religious teaching, the
soil has been prepared for a Christian life, the
individual in the Catholic church is kept for-
ever mindful of his duties by the means left by
Christ, for the sanctification of the different sit-
uations in life. The power to administer these
means is the potestas ordinis. The means are
the seven sacraments (external symbols), insti-
tuted by Christ, to which is attached an inward
grace; through one of which (baptism) man is
introduced into the church after birth; through
another of which he is strengthened for the serv-
ice of God by the Holy Ghost (confirmation); res-
cued from his lapse into sin, the consequence of
human frailty, by a third (penance); by a fourth,
the eucharist, he partakes of the body and blood
of the incarnate God. By matrimony, a fifth, he
is sanctified and strengthened for the natural alli-
ance of the family. By holy orders, the sixth,
those called thereto are endowed with the gifts.
necessary for a particular spiritual alliance with
the church. Finally, by extreme unction, on his
death bed, the Catholic is prepared for his exit
from this world. In a word, in all the situations
* We have here translated the German Volksschulen by
public schools. In writing the article Dr. V. Schulte certainly
did not have in view the public schools of the United States,
in particular. The Volksschule is a school intended for the
people. It seems certain that what Dr. v. Schulte says of
the attitude of the Catholic church toward the Volksschule is
true of its attitude toward the public schools of the United
States.—BD.
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
651
of life the Catholic is guided by the loving hand
of his mother, the church. Besides the sacra-
ments, hereto belong also the whole external di-
vine worship (worship and liturgy), and what is
connected with it (sacramentals, ceremonies, etc.).
—The exercise of these two powers, the potestas
'magisterić and the potestas ordinis, requires a set-
tled order of things. The establishment and de-
velopment of the latter, on the basis of the funda-
mental principles given by Christ, given with the
church itself, as well as its enforcement, consti-
tute the third power of the church, the potestas
jurisdictionis, or government, in the proper sense
of the term. This triple power, in its totality,
resides in the episcopate, the bishops. The potestas
jurisdictionis, from the very nature of the case, is
chiefly that activity of the church which is exter-
nally apparent, and, for that reason, most capable
of juridical development, and which in fact has a
spart in that development. In the exercise of this
power the church enters the domain of law, and
comes in contact with states, individuals and re-
ligious bodies separated from it. The principal
departments of this jurisdiction are the legislation
and administration of the church, particularly the
creation and filling of ecclesiastical offices, the su-
pervision of the administration of the clergy, the
exercise of the judicial authority of the church
over the clergy and laity, and the administration
of the property of the church. — 3. Legal Rules
for Ecclesiastic Administration. The ecclesiastical
law is the sum total of the principles according to
which the church lives and acts in its internal and
external relations. Its sources are, in the first
place, the positive divine precepts contained in
the New Testament, which are, however, as a
matter of course, but few, because Christ gave
only the broad outlines of the constitution of the
church, the development of which, as indeed the
development of all law, is the work of time. In
the first centuries of the church the customary
law, resting for the most part on traditions handed
down from the time of the apostles, was the most
abundant source of the law of the church, yet one
which subsequently receded before other sources,
but which, at the same time—because it is the cri-
terion in accordance with which all rules are estab-
lished (rules required by special circumstances,
and which are therefore gradually developed), that
traditional customary law, of which we are speak-
ing—is of great importance, exists even at the
present day, and continues to modify many laws
of the church. It now finds expression in the
wigens ecclesiæ disciplina, which in many points va-
ries considerably from the state of things supposed
by the written law, which latter must take into
account circumstances and the times, There are,
besides, the canomes, that is, the decrees of the
synods, and the papal constitutions. – III. Rela-
tions of the Catholic Church to Non-Christians.
The church, as has been shown, maintains that
membership in the Christian church is a funda-
mental condition to the attainment of the salvation
of the soul. From this it deduces the right and
duty of announcing the gospel to non-Christians,
and of receiving them into its fold. This activity
of the church is designated by the word mission.
A congregation in Rome, bearing the name S. Con-
gregatio de Propaganda Fide, looks after the exe-
cution of this task. To this end the congregation
has an institution, in which most of the Asiatic
and other languages are taught, and large reve-
nues for the support of missionaries. To this
congregation, under the guidance of the pope, are
subject all countries, in which the church is either
not tolerated at all, or in which it has not yet been
able to attain the full development of its legal or-
ganization. Such countries are called terrae mis-
stonis, in contradistinction to countries which are
ruled by the common law of the church and by
the regular hierarchy, and which are terræ Sedis
apostolicae. The system of church government in
missionary countries must, from the very nature
of the case, be dictated more by prudence (the cir-
cumstances of place, time, climate, political con-
stitution, the stage of civilization of the people)
than by the strict letter of the law. As means of
conversion, instruction only is admitted; all com-
pulsion, etc., is excluded. The violent conversion
of certain German tribes (the Saxons), by Charle-
magne, that of the Jews in Spain, and other and
similar conversions, did not proceed from the
church, although a few individual bishops may
perhaps have approved of them. Such conver-
sions are sufficiently explained by the views held
in those times, which knew only Christian Society
(the ecclesiastico-political), and when states con-
sidered it a matter of duty to convert all non-
Christians, even against their will. But from the
point of view of the church, only man's free will
can call for admittance into the church. — It was
an altogether different matter, when in many coun-
tries, during the middle ages, the Jews were or-
dered by the popes, at certain seasons of the year,
to listen to Christian sermons, that they might
become acquainted with Christianity, This was
considered legitimate, because the duty of taking
care that the truth should not remain hidden from
the Jews was acknowledged. The Jews were tol-
erated and protected by the popes and bishops
more than by any others, so that, relatively speak-
ing, there are now more Jews living in countries
formerly Catholic, and particularly in countries
ruled by dignitaries of the church, than in others.
But non-Christians, because they have not re-
ceived baptism, stand in no relation to the church.
For the same reason they are not subject to the
laws of the church, nor can they, as such, be
judged by the church. But the church, never-
theless, considers non-Christians bound by the
laws which it calls divine, because engraved on
the heart of every man. When, accordingly,
there is question in its forum of the rightfulness
of any act, the church does not decide it by its
positive laws, but by the dictates of the jus divi-
'nwm, for instance, it considers the marriage of
non-Christians indissoluble. The matrimonial im-
pediments created by the divine law (as, for in-
652
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
stance, the impediments between those in the as-
cending and descending lines, between brothers
and sisters, etc.) the church regards as binding on
non-Christians. With regard to the admission of
grown-up non-Christians to her fold, the church
maintains that religious conviction only is neces-
sary, but not any definite age or further require-
ments. Since all compulsion must be regarded as
illegitimate, it is not permitted by the Catholic
church to baptize the children of non-Christians,
as for instance, those of Jewish parentage, against
the will of their parents, but it insists that a bap-
tized child shall receive a Christian education. —
Dating from the early centuries of the Christian
era, and from the middle ages, there still exist a
number of laws which forbid the intercourse of
Catholics with non-Christians, or which restrict
such intercourse to the absolutely necessary; but
which forbid, above all, certain kinds of familiar
intercourse with such persons (as the service as
house maids, man servants, nurses, etc.), and
which further absolutely forbid such intercourse
with the Jews. Prohibitions of this kind existed
until recent times in a few states (in Austria until
the summer of 1859, but they were not enforced),
and they still exist in several Italian states, in
Spain, etc. The reason of such prohibitions, dat-
ing from early times, was the danger to the faith
which that intercourse necessarily involved, so
long as the Christian religion had not attained to
full recognition, and so long as paganism had not
entirely disappeared. With the Christian state
this reason ceased to exist, when in the Neo-Latin,
Germanic and Slavonic states the heathen religion
was no longer tolerated. As reasons for the main-
tenance and renewal of these prohibitions in case
of the Jews, may be alleged the embarrassing
situations in which servants might be placed,
the danger that they might become indifferent
to their religion, particularly when not kept to
the observance of it, or that they should be com-
pelled to hear it ridiculed, etc. The civil con-
dition of the Jews does not concern the church.
For, although the state in many of its laws relat-
ing to the emancipation of the Jews places itself
in contradiction with the principles of the Chris-
tian state, this implies no injury to the church so
long as such laws do not affect the development of
the Church, and So long as the Christian founda-
tious of states receive no injury from them. For
I consider that the state has indeed the power but
not the right to put itself in such contradiction.*
Yet it implies no injury to the church that the
state does not impose any legal restrictions on
intercourse with Jews, the church having always
tolerated such intercourse, and considered it una-
Voidable. On the other hand, the Catholic church
can not be forbidden to employ suitable means
* In our opinion, Christianity is not only the basis but the
living element of our civilization; yet the legal foundation
of the state does not by any means rest on Christianity. The
state has not grown out of the church, nor upon the church,
but is completely independent of the latter and of her dog-
ImaS.—BLUNTSCHL.I.
to prevent her children from being exposed to
unnecessary danger to their faith, and hence can
not be prohibited to warn them against the fa-
miliar intercourse referred to above. I am, how-
ever, of opinion, that we ought to regard the
ecclesiastical laws which punish this intercourse
with censures (ecclesiastical punishments) as abro-
gated by a desuetudo generalis (general disuse), by
reason of the altered circumstances of the times,
as well as because of the modern development of
the state.— IV. Relation of the Catholic Church to-
ward the Greek, Protestant and other Christian Sects.
It follows from what has been said, that the Catho-
lic church considers itself as the church, and con-
sequently as the only church founded by Christ;
that it maintains its doctrine to be the Christian,
doctrine, and every deviation from it as error ;
that its fundamental constitution, according to
its dogma, is the one which was given by Christ
to his church, and that the non-recognition of the
latter and of the historically developed powers of
the church implies unlawful opposition to Christ
and to his church. Since the church not only
exacts an inward, but also an external, visible
acceptance of Christianity, any deviation from its
teachings, or non-recognition of it, not only bears
the character of a sin, but is the subversion of the
legal order of things, and hence has the character
of a crime. From the nature of the case, it is
impossible to admit a will in opposition to the
church, knowing it to be the only true church.
For this reason the church looks upon the volun-
tary rejection of its doctrine as the crime of heresy
(from aipeiv, to choose), that is, the non-accept-
ance of its entire dogma, and on the rejection of
the constitution of the church (especially of the
primacy of the bishop of Rome) as the crime of
Sch?sm, and punishes the same by exclusion from
the church; and prescribes to the Christian state
the obligation on its part to take action against
Such crimes. Such is the view that was main-
tained in all Christian states, after the pagan re-
ligion had been prohibited in the Roman empire,
until the sixteenth century; in Catholic countries
this view continued to be taken by the Italian
states until the revolution of 1859, and by Spain
and Portugal; in non-Catholic states, by Russia,
practically; by Sweden, as to the abandonment of
the Lutheran faith; and it is well known, that
England retained the same view in part as regards
the Anglican church. But in Germany this view
Was changed after the Passau decree of the states
of the empire (1552), that of Augsburg (1555),
and the peace of Westphalia (1648). Owing to
the events of the sixteenth century, the effects of
which were confirmed by the laws of the empire
above referred to, there arose a condition of things
which had for consequence not only the individ-
ual freedom of belonging to any one of the three
Christian confessions (Catholic, Lutheran and Re-
formed), but which also brought about the com-
plete political equality of Catholics and of the
Catholic church on the one hand, and of the Prot-
estants and the Protestant church on the other,
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
653
and even the individual freedom of Christians, to
not belong to any Christian confession. At the
Same time, by the peace of Westphalia and the
establishment of the normal year, 1624, a definite
limit was put to the external jurisdiction of both
the Catholic and Protestant church over foreign
yet kindred religious bodies in the separate terri-
tories of the empire. In consequence of events
since 1803, all jurisdiction of the kind has gener-
ally ceased to exist in Germany. — In this way
was developed the equality of individuals and
Confessions. As a consequence of this, the rule
of the canon law has naturally ceased to exist in
respect to Germany, to France, England, Holland,
Belgium, the United States, etc.; because it is im-
possible to regard as criminals persons who are
born and educated in a Christian religious com-
munity, tolerated by the state, on an equal foot-
ing with, or even with greater privileges than, the
Catholic body.* The church, therefore, regards
dissenters from her teaching only as erring, as
ha}retic; materiales, as they are called in the lan-
guage of the church. For this reason also the
penal laws of the church, as well as the validity
of older prohibitions, respecting the intercourse
of Catholics with heretics, have ceased to have
any force. What is said here of heretics applies
also to the non-united Greek church and its ad-
herents. That this is practically so, and that this
view has been maintained by the popes, is well
known to every one acquainted with the govern-
ment of the Catholic church. Here with has also
ceased the external jurisdiction of the Catholic
church over Protestants and non-united Greeks.
But so far as persons who secede from the Cath-
olic church to the Greek, or to any other Christian
confession or sect, are concerned, the Catholic
church maintains, even externally, its own dogmat-
ic view, which is, the notion of criminal schism, and
of heresy, and the applicability of the laws of the
church above referred to. The external applica-
tion of these laws is naturally limited to the inflic-
tion of censures (excommunication), for the reason
that the employment of other and temporal pun-
ishments, which were formerly always inflicted by
the state, has now been abandoned. Practically
these ecclesiastical penalties play no part, except
when an individual wishes to return to the church
which he had abandoned. Thus, although Prot-
estants and members of the Greek church are no
longer, as such, subject to the external jurisdic-
tion of the Catholic church, still the view of the
Catholic church concerning its own domain re-
mains the same. By baptism, every One, from
the church’s own point of view, becomes a mem.
ber of the society founded by Christ, that is, of
the Catholic church, and is subject to its regula-
* Bluntschli here inserts a note to the effect that the state
introduced religious freedom into the world. The remark is
certainly a correct one. The principle of liberty of con-
Science forced itself into the world through blood, we might
almost say, spite of church and state authorities, as a means
“not to determine rights, but to repress violence and termi-
Inate quarrels.”—ED.
tions, whether they rest on the divine law or on
the positive laws of the church, enacted by virtue
of the constitution of the church, and of the pow-
er bequeathed to it by Christ. Hence, when, in
the church's forum, there is question of an act
done, it does not apply those principles which
non-Catholics regard as controlling the case, but
its own. Practically this is of importance only
as regards marriage, and the questions resulting
therefrom in the several spheres of church life.
For instance : the marriage of a Protestant sepa-
rated from his wife, during the lifetime of the lat-
ter, is regarded by the Catholic church as void;
and a son, the Offspring of such a marriage, could
not, without dispensation, be admitted to holy or-
ders, propter irregularitatem e defectu natalium.
It obviously follows from what has been said, that
as regards Greeks and Protestants, in non-Cath-
olic countries, the church must look upon the task
it has to perform as a missionary one. And so
it is in reality. — For the admission of dissenters
to the church, which, from the point of view of
the laws of the Catholic church, is only a return
to it, the absolute inadmissibility, in accordance
with the above exposition, because of the circum-
stances of Our times and of the obsoleteness of
the older laws of the church, of all compulsion,
or the employment of any means but instruc-
tion, must be considered as settled. — The clergy
of the Catholic church are under no obligation
to exercise the functions of their office for the
benefit of persons of a belief different from their
own. In practice this can be asked of them only
as to baptism, marriage and burial, because their
other functions can not be performed in favor of
persons not Catholic. As a matter of course, the
church has no objection to the baptism, by a
priest, of children of Protestants, at the request
of the parents. In regard to matrimony, the
church forbids the marriage of a Catholic to a
non-Catholic, without, however, attaching to such
marriage any definite, external, ecclesiastical pen-
alty, but it does not permit the marriage of a
Catholic to a non-Christian, on account of the mat-
rimonial impediment of difference of religion.
The present state of things in this regard, resting
on modern papal constitutions, is to the effect that
a mixed marriage may be allowed when it is prom-
ised that the education of the children shall be in
the Catholic religion, and when the non-Catholic
party promises not to disturb the other in the ex-
ercise of his or her religion. † In such a case, that
is, in the case of a mixed marriage, a dispensation
is granted, and the nuptial ceremony of the Cath-
olic church is allowed to be performed. But if
the guarantees above referred to are not given, the
Catholic priest grants only his so-called passive
assistance in the nuptial ceremony. The Catholic
priest may also attend the burial of non-Catholic
+ There are those who consider this provision in conflict
with the principle of the equal rights of confessions or
creeds, and of freedom of conscience. But is not the mem-
ber of a recognized Christian denomination, the statutes of
which he freely accepts, bound by them ż
654
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
Christians, in his priestly character, but only with
the omission of all ceremonies, which, by their
very nature, can be performed only over deceased
members of the church. But there is no duty to
perform such ceremonies, on the part of the Cath-
olic priest, as that would manifestly imply un-
qualified compulsion, in view of the fact that
purely political considerations do not demand ec-
clesiastical burial. For this same reason the state
can not compel the church to officiate at the bu-
rial of nominal Catholics, whom the law of the
church deprives of this benefit, or to accord them
Christian burial. Catholic cemeteries, campº Sanc-
tº, are considered as things ecclesiastical. Seces-
sion from the Catholic church, and going over to
another confession, the Catholic church necessarily
regards as apostasy and crime. Hence its law ad-
mits of no mode of leaving the Catholic church.
The Catholic church makes admission to its fold
dependent only on the knowledge of its doctrine,
on the free will of the individual, uncontaminated
by impure motives (as far as can be ascertained,
for it is unable to examine hearts), and on the ful-
fillment of its precepts. When these conditions
exist, it can not but admit the individual. But
on this very account the church does not require
for admission to its fold any definite age, any more
than it does the consent of parents, guardians or
of married people, to the change of the faith of
either; because the conviction of the truth is an
entirely individual matter, which, by reason of its
consequences to the individual, can not depend on
the pleasure of a second or third party. As re-
gards the religious education of Catholic children,
the Catholic church exacts unconditionally their
education in accordance with its doctrines, and
does not admit of any exception of whatever kind
to this rule; a matter which has frequently been
made a subject of reproach to it, but which man-
ifestly is the natural consequence of its principles
and convictions. The political point of view is
here a different one from that of the church. —
W. Relation of the Church to the State. It is im-
possible to enter here into the historical and phil-
OSophical exposition of this relation, or to support
the views here developed by historical proofs.
All we are concerned with at present is to describe
the relation of the Catholic church from the point
of view of principle, taking into consideration, at
the same time, the principles proclaimed by the
Catholic church itself. All the decrees and tenets
which constitute the sources of ecclesiastical law
on the relation of church and state, are, from the
standpoint of principle, just as little prescriptive
as the decrees of secular laws. For all such de-
crees and tenets did not proceed from the whole
church; they have not the character of dogmas,
but sprung from the circumstances of the times
in which they originated, and in which they all
find their sufficient justification and necessary ex-
planation. To make these tenets of the middle
ages, or the general condition of those ages, an
absolute standard for all time, is an absurdity
which neither has a rational basis nor is even of
any advantage to the church itself, but which, on
the contrary, arouses a host of enemies against it,
and thereby causes no little damage. The prin-
ciples which result from Catholic teaching and
from the development of its law, and which
have no reference to special conditions, are these:
the church is a power independent of the state,
and Self-dependent; its domain is a spiritual one,
and therefore different from the political domain;
it rests on divine institution; and hence, as to the
powers bequeathed to it, and as to the means
granted it for the fulfillment of its mission in the
world, it is not dependent on any earthly power
and requires no political commission. It is, there-
fore, subject to no state. It is not of the world
but in the world, to lead mankind to eternal sal-
Vation. The Catholic church as the one church,
the mystic visible body of Christ, the community
of all Christian believers spread throughout all
lands, is not the subject of the action or influence
of any state, and is not, because it is the mystic,
visible body of Christ, bound to obey the laws of
any state. The Catholic church knows no limits,
no nation, but only humanity united in the faith.
But the worldly position and the worldly relation
of individuals do not, therefore, cease to exist.
Christ did not prescribe to his church the attain-
ment of its end in any new way by the creation
of artificial social relations previously unknown
to the world, or of new political institutions or
constitutions. The church's means for the reach-
ing of its end are purely spiritual, moral and re-
ligious. Hence, the mission of the church is de-
cidedly not a political one. That through the
acceptance of Christianity, all social, and hence
all political, relations should be gradually trans-
formed as they actually were, was not the aim of
Christianity, but the indirect result of its action,
because through its influence humanity itself was
renovated in a moral way. It therefore follows
that the church in different countries does not and
can not require that the people should abandon
their political and social relations or circumstances,
but, on the contrary, that individuals, each in
the position in which Providence has placed him,
should fulfill his duty, and, like a true Christian,
whether as a citizen or official or soldier, as father
or mother, as son or daughter, etc., merit heaven.
Religious duties should not interfere with human
duties, whether civil or political, and there should
arise no conflict between civil and church duties.
The task of the Christian state consists in the at-
tainment of this end. — From what has been Said,
it follows, in the first place, that the church accepts
the political order as resting on the divine will,
and that the authorities of the state rule by divine
right. All, accordingly, are bound to obey the
latter. But it follows, too, that no definite form of
political authority or of political constitution, no
single political system, can be regarded as the One
specially instituted by God, but that the church
recognizes the actual lawfully existing political
authority of a state as the one divinely established.
Not the church, but international law and history,
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH.
655
must decide when any definite political authority
.can be said to exist by right, in other Words, that
decision lies outside the jurisdiction of the church.
It is therefore perfectly true that the Catholic
church as such is cosmopolite, and knows no
special country; but it is wrong, on this account,
to deny to Catholics individually, from the pope
to the layman, the right of, or the capacity for,
patriotism. Differences of political opinion and
deep attachment to home, Country and nation, are
as natural to Catholics as to any others.-Thus, the
church is not divided into state churches. History
shows that there is nothing more crippling or
deadening to the inward life and action of the
church than a condition in which it becomes the
instrument of state administration, even when it
happens that it is the predominant religion in that
state. Nor is the Catholic church a state within
the state. This is not possible from the very na-
ture of its existence in most states, and of its con-
stitution, which is the same in all states, the cen-
tre of which (its constitution), even in the interest
of all states having Catholic population, should
not be subject to a state foreign to any other states.
It is, however, no contradiction to what has been
said, that the church partakes in the sufferings
and joys of every individual state, in so far as its
members belong politically to such state. —With.
in its own domain the church demands freedom of
movement and autonomy, just as in the present
day does every private individual, every commu-
nity, every society, and every confession. The
Catholic church can not on principle lay claim to
privileges or rights of a secular or political nature;
the loss of the old ones it possessed was, therefore,
in principle no violation of right. But it can not
be denied that the practical settlement of the rela-
tion of church and state, especially in Europe, is
beset with great difficulties, because our age has
broken with history in respect to the development
of the political domain, and because the church
and the state, in most European countries, have a
too intimate and historical connection to render
it possible soon to find the right solution in the
conflict of opposing parties, one of which desires
to retain the condition of things historically de-
veloped, another of which finds the right solution
in the absolute dechristianization of the state, and
a third in the freedom of the church within its
own sphere, the like freedom of the state within
its sphere, and in the action in common of both
on a common ground. There are still other parties
which do not well know what they want.* (For
the proper solution of the question of the relation
of church and state, see CHURCH AND STATE, in
Vol. I. of this work.—ED.) . SCHULTE.
ROTATION IN OFFICE.
ICE REFORM.)
(See CIVIL SERV-
RULES. (See PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.)
* The above article (somewhat shortened here by the omis-
sion of matter relating exclusively to Germany) was written
by a distinguished Catholic teacher of ecclesiastical law,
John Frederick von Schulte, the author of a great number
of works on the law of the Catholic church. It was written
for the larger edition of Bluntschli and Brater's Staatswór-
terbuch. After the promulgation of the decree of the infal-
libility of the pope by the Vatican council, Dr. Von Schulte,
with Dr. Döllinger and other learned Catholic divines and
laymen, formed themselves into the body known as the
“Old Catholics,” a party which rejected the doctrine of
papal infallibility as subversive of the ancient constitution
of the church, as the absorption of the church by the pope,
and as contrary to the doctrine Quod Semper, quod ubique,
Quod ab omnibus. This is not the place to discuss whether
the decree of papal infallibility changed the constitution of
the Catholic church. What concerns us most in this work
is to lay before its readers the meaning of that dogma, as
understood by the best informed in the church itself—a
meaning, which, therefore, may be considered the meaning of
the Church. We give it in the words of probably the most
eminent and learned of Catholic dignitaries, one whose name
has long been familiar to Protestants and Catholics as well
as to disbelievers both in Protestantism and in the Roman
church. He says: “The Vatican definition, which comes to
us in the shape of the pope's encyclical bull called the Pastor
AEternus, declares that ‘the pope has that same infallibility
which the church has * : * to determine, therefore, what is
meant by the infallibility of the pope, we must turn first to
consider the infallibility of the church. And again, to deter-
mine the character of the church’s infallibility, we must con-
sider what is the characteristic of Christianity, considered as
a revelation of God’s will. — Our Divine Master might have
communicated to us heavenly truths without telling us that
they came from him, as it is commonly thought he has
done in the case of heathen nations; but he willed the gos-
pel to be a revelation acknowledged and authenticated, to
be public, fixed and permanent ; and, accordingly, as Cath-
olics hold, he framed a society of men to be its home, its
instrument and its guarantee. The rulers of that associ-
ation are the legal trustees, so to say, of the Sacred truths
which he spoke to the apostles by word of mouth. As he
was leaving them, he gave them their great commission,
and bade them “teach their converts all over the earth,
‘to observe all things whatever he had commanded them ';
and then he added, ‘Lo, I am with you always, even to
the end of the world." Here, first, he told them to “teach
his revealed truth ; next, “to the consummation of all
things”; thirdly, for their encouragement, he said that he
would be with them “all days,” all along, on every emer-
gency or occasion, until that consummation. They had a
duty put upon them of teaching their Master’s words, a duty
which they could not fulfill in the perfection which fidelity
required, without his help; therefore came his promise to
be with them in their performance of it. Nor did that
promise of supernatural help end with the apostles person-
ally, for Ife adds, “to the consummation of the world,” imply-
ing that the apostles would have successors, and engaging
that he would be with those successors as he had been with
them. — The same safeguard of the revelation, viz., an au-
thoritative, permanent tradition cf teaching, is insisted on
by an informant of equal authority with St. Matthew, but
altogether independent of him: I mean St. Paul. He calls
the church ‘the pillar and ground cf the truth "; and he bids
his convert Timothy, when he had become a ruler in that
church, to “take heed unto his doctrine,” to “keep the de-
posit" of the faith, and to ‘commit” the things which he had
heard from himself ‘to faithful men who should be fit to
teach others."—This is how Catholics understand the Scrip-
ture record, nor does it appear how it can otherwise be under-
stood; b t, when we have got as fºr as this, and look back,
we find that we have by implication made profession of a fur-
ther doctrine. For, if the church, initiated by the apostles
and continued in their successors, has been Set up for the di-
rect object of protecting, preserving and declaring the revela-
tion, and that by means of the gnardianship and providence of
its Divine Author, we are led on to perceive that, in asserting
this, we are in other words asserting, that, so far as the re-
vealed message is concerned, the church is infallible; for
* Romanum Pontificem ea infallibilitate pollere, qua divinus
Redemptor Ecclesiam suam in definienda doctrina de fide Vel
moribus instructam esse Voluit.
656
RUSH.
RUSH, Richard, was born at Philadelphia,
Aug. 29, 1780, and died there July 30, 1859. He
was graduated at Princeton in 1797, was admitted
to the bar in 1800, and became attorney general of
Pennsylvania in 1811, and attorney general of the
U. S. in 1814. He was minister to Great Britain,
what is meant by infallibility in teaching but that the teacher
in his teaching is secured from error? and how can fallible
man be thus secured except by a supernatural infallible
guidance? And what can have been the object of the words,
‘ I am with you all along to the end,” but to give thereby an
answer by anticipation to the spontaneous, silent alarm of
the feeble company of fishermen and laborers, to whom they
were addressed, on their finding themselves laden with su-
perhuman duties and responsibilities? — Such then being, in
its simple outline, the infallibility of the church, such too
ºf be the pope's infallibility, as the Vatican fathers have
defined it. And if we find that by means of this outline
we are able to fill out in all important respects the idea of a
council's infallibility, we shall thereby be ascertaining in de-
tail what was defined in 1870 about the infallibility of the
pope.— 1. The church has the office of teaching, and the matter
of that teaching is the body of doctrine which the apostles
left behind them as her perpetual possession. If a question
arises as to what the apostolic doctrine is on a particular
point, she has infallibility promised to her to enable her to
answer correctly. And, as by the teaching of the church is
understood, not the teaching of this or that bishop, but their
united voice, and a council is the form the church must
take, in order that all men may recognize that in fact she is
teaching on any point in dispute, so in like manner the pope
must come before us in some special form or posture, if he
is to be understood to be exercising his teaching office, and
that form is called eac cathedra. This term is most appro-
priate, as being on one occasion used by Our Lord himself.
When the Jewish doctors taught, they placed themselves in
Moses’ seat, and spoke ea; cathedra; and then, as he tells us,
they were to be obeyed by their people, and that, whatever
were their private lives or characters. ‘The Scribes and
Pharisees,” he says, “are seated on the chair of Moses: all
things therefore whatsoever they shall say to you, observe
and do ; but according to their works do you not, for they
say and do not.” — 2. The forms by which a general council
is identified as representing the church herself, are too clear
to need drawing out ; but what is to be that moral cathe-
dra, or teaching chair, in which the pope sits, when he is to
be recognized as in the exercise of his infallible teaching? The
new definition answers this question. He speaks ea; cathedra,
or infallibly, when he speaks, first, as the universal teacher;
secondly, in the name and with the authority of the apostles;
thirdly, on a point of faith or morals; fourthly, with the pur-
pose of binding every member of the church to accept and be-
lieve his decision. — 3. These conditions of course contract
the range of his infallibility most materially. Hence Billuart,
speaking of the pope, says, “Neither in conversation, nor in
discussion, nor in interpreting Scripture or the fathers, nor in
consulting, nor in giving his reasons for the point which he has
defined, nor in answering letters, nor in private deliberations,
supposing he is setting forth his own opinion, is the pope in-
fallible.” (t. ii., p. 110.)* And for this simple reason, because,
on these various occasions of speaking his mind, he is not in
the chair of the universal doctor. — 4. Nor is this all ; the
greater part of Billuart's negatives refer to the pope's utter-
ances when he is out of the cathedra Petri, but even when
he is in it his words do not necessarily proceed from his in-
fallibility. He has no wider prerogative than a council, and
of a council Perrone says, “Councils are not infallible in
the reasons by which they are led, or on which they rely,
in making their definition, nor in matters which relate to per-
sons, nor to physical matters which have no necessary con-
mection with dogma." (Prael. Theol., t. ii., p. 492.) Thus, if
a council has condemned a work of Origen or Theodoret, it
did not in so condemning go beyond the work itself; it did
not touch the persons of either. Since this holds of a coun-
* And so Fessler: “The pope is not infallible as a man, or a
theologian, or a priest, or a bishop, or a temporal prince, or a
judge, or a legislator, or in his political views, or even in his
government of the church.” (Introd.)
1817–25, and secretary of state under John Quincy
Adams. In 1828 he was the candidate of the Ad-
ams republicans for vice-president. (See WHIG
PARTY, I.) He was minister to France, 1847–56.
See his Residence at the Court of London, and Court
and Government of Louis Philippe. A. J.
cil, it also holds in the case of the pope; therefore, supposing
a pope has quoted the so-called works of the Areopagite as
if really genuine, there is no call on us to believe him ; nor
again, when he condemned Galileo's Copernicanism, unless
the earth's immobility has a ‘necessary connection with some
dogmatic truth,” which the present bearing of the holy see
toward that philosophy virtually denies. – 5. Nor is a coun-
cil infallible even in the prefaces and introductions to its
definitions. There are theologians of name, as Tournely
and Amort,t who contend that even those most instructive
capitula passed in the Tridentine council, from which the
canons with anathemas are drawn up, are not portions of the
church's infallible teaching ; and the parallel introductions
prefixed to the Vatican anathemas have an authority not
greater nor less than that of those capitula. – 6. Such pas-
Sages, however, as these are too closely connected with the
definitions themselves, not to be what is sometimes called, by
a catach resis, ‘proximum fidei"; still, on the other hand, it
is true also, that, in those circumstances and surroundings of .
formal definitions, which I have been speaking of, whether
of a council or a pope, there may be not only no exercise of
an infallible voice, but actual error. Thus, in the third
council, a passage of an heretical author was quoted in de-
fense of the doctrine defined, under the belief he was Pope
Julius, and narratives not trustworthy are introduced into
the seventh. This remark and several before it, will become
intelligible if we consider that neither pope nor council are
on a level with the apostles. To the apostles the whole rev-
elation was given, by the church it is transmitted; no simply
new truth has been given to us since St. John's death; the
one office of the church is to guard “that noble deposit” of
truth, as St. Paul speaks to Timothy, which the apostles be-
queathed to her, in its fullness and integrity. Hence the in-
fallibility of the apostles was of a far more positive and
wide character than that needed by and granted to the
church. We call it, in the case of the apostles, inspiration;
in the case of the church, assistentia. Of course there is a
sense of the word “inspiration' in which it is common to
all members of the church, and therefore especially to its
bishops, and still more directly to its rulers, when solemn-
ly called together in council after much prayer throughout
Christendom, and in a frame of mind especially serious and
earnest by reason of the work they have in hand. The Para-
clete certainly is ever with them, and more effectively in a
council, as being “in Spiritu Sancto congregata '; but I speak
of the special and promised aid necessary for their fidelity to
apostolic teaching; and, in order to secure this fidelity, no
inward gift of infallibility is needed, such as the apostles.
had, no direct suggestion of divine truth, but simply an ex-
ternal guardianship, keeping them off from error (as a man's
guardian angel, without enabling him to walk, might, on a
night journey, keep him from pitfalls in his way), a guardian-
ship saving them, as far as their ultimate decisions are con-
cerned, from the effects of their inherent infirmities, from
any chance of extravagance, of confusion of thought, of col-
lision with former decisions, or with Scripture, which in
Seasons of excitement might reasonably be feared. “Never,”
says Perrone, “have Catholics taught that the gift of infalli-
bility is given by God to the church after the manner of in-
spiration.” (t. ii., p. 253.) Again: “[Human] media of arriv-
ing at the truth are excluded neither by a council's nor by a
pope's infallibility, for God has promised it, not by way of
an infused or habitual “gift, but by the way of assistenția.”
(Ibid., p. 541.) But since the process of defining truth is.
human, it is open to the chance of error; what Providence
has guaranteed is only this, that there should be no error in
the final step, in the resulting definition or dogma. —7.
Accordingly, all that a council, and all that the pope, is infal-
lible in, is the direct answer to the special question which he
f Wide Amort, Dem. Cr., pp. 205–6. This applies to the Unam.
Sancta.m. Wide Fessler.
RUSSIA.
657
RUSSIA. This empire comprises three distinct
states: Russia, Poland, and the grand duchy of
Finland. Its area, according to the imperial al-
manac of 1872, is 19,152,725 square kilometres,
divided as follows: Russia in Europe, 4,390,829
square kilometres; Poland, 123,738; Finland, 350,-
happens to be considering; his prerogative does not extend
beyond a power, when in his cathedra, of giving that very an-
swer truly. “Nothing,” says Perrone,' but the objects of dog-
matic definitions of Councils are immutable, for in these are
councils infallible, not in their reasons,” etc. (Ibid.)—8. This
rule is so strictly to be observed that, though dogmatic state-
ments are found from time to time in a pope's apostolic let-
ters, etc., yet they are not accounted to be exercises of his
infallibility if they are said only obiter—by the way, and with-
out direct intention to define. A striking instance of this
såne qua non condition is afforded by Nicholas I., who, in a
letter to the Bulgarians, spoke as if baptism were valid, when
administered simply in our Lord’s name, without distinct
mention of the Three Persons; but he is not teaching and
speaking ea; cathedra, because no question on this matter was
in any sense the occasion of his writing. The question asked
of him was concerning the minister of baptism, viz., whether
a Jew or Pagan could validly baptize; in answering in the
affirmative, he added obiter, as a private doctor, says Bel-
larmine, ‘that the baptism was valid, whether administered
in the name of the Three Persons Or in the name of Christ
only.” (de Rom. Pont., iv., 12.)—9. Another limitation is
given in Pope Pius' own conditions set down in the Pastor
AEternus, for the exercise of infallibility, viz., the proposi-
tion defined will be without any claim to be considered bind-
ing on the belief of Catholics, unless it is referable to the
apostolic depositum, through the channel either of Scripture
or tradition; and, though the pope is the judge whether it is
so referable or not, yet the necessity of his professing to
abide by this reference is in itself a certain limitation of
his dogmatic action. A Protestant will object, indeed, that,
after his distinctly asserting that the immaculate conception
and the papal infallibility are in Scripture and tradition, this
safeguard against erroneous definitions is not worth much,
nor do I say that it is one of the most effective; but anyhow,
in consequence of it, no pope, any more than a council, could,
for instance, introduce Ignatius' Epistles into the canon of
Scripture; and as to his dogmatic condemnation of particu-
lar books, which, of course, are foreign to the depositum, I
would say, that, as to their false doctrine, there can be no
difficulty in condemning that by means of that apostolic de-
posit; mor surely in his condemning the very wording in
which they convey it, when the subject is carefully consid-
ered. For the pope's condemning the language, for instance,
of Jansenius is a parallel act to the church's receiving the
word “consubstantial,” and if a council and the pope were
not infallible so far in their judgment of language, neither
the pope nor council could draw up a dogmatic definition at
all, for the right exercise of words is involved in the right
exercise of thought. — 10. And in like manner, as regards
the precepts concerning moral duties, it is not in every such
precept that the pope is infallible. As a definition of faith
must be drawn from the apostolic depositum of doctrine, in
order that it may be considered an exercise of infallibility,
whether in the pope or a council, so too a precept of morals,
if it is to be accepted as dogmatic, must be drawn from the
moral law, that primary revelation to us from God. That is,
in the first place, it must relate to things in themselves good
or evil. If the pope prescribed lying or revenge, his com-
mand would simply go for nothing, as if he had not issued
it, because he has no power over the moral law. If he for-
bade his flock to eat any but vegetable food, or to dress in a
particular fashion (questions of decency or modesty not
coming into the question), he would in like manner be going
beyond his province, because such a rule does not relate to a
matter in itself good or bad. If he gave a precept all over
the world for the adoption of lotteries instead of tithes or
offerings, certainly it would be very hard to prove that he was
contradicting the moral law, or ruling a practice to be in
itself good which was in itself evil. There are few persons
but would allow that it is at least doubtful whether lotteries
are abstractedly evil, and in a doubtful matter the pope is to
161 VOL III. — 42
541; the lieutenancy of the Caucasus, 407,597;
Siberia, 11,425,715; and Central Asia, 2,454,305.
— The population in 1867 amounted to 81,745,307,
as follows: Russia in Europe and Poland, 69,364,-
541; Finland, 1,843,253; the lieutenancy of the
Caucasus, 4,583,640; Siberia, 3,327,627; and Cen-
be believed and obeyed. However, there are other condi-
tions besides this necessary for the exercise of papal infalli-
bility in moral subjects: for instance, his definition must re-
late to things necessary for salvation. No one would so speak
of lotteries, or of a particular dress, or of a particular kind of
food; such precepts, then, did he make them, would be sim-
ply external to the range of his prerogative.
infallibility in consequence is not called into exercise, unless
he speaks to the whole world; for, if his precepts, in order
to be dogmatic, must enjoin what is necessary to Salvation,
they must be necessary for all men. Accordingly, orders
which issue from him for the observance of particular coun-
tries, or political or religious classes, have no claim to be the
utterances of his infallibility. If he enjoins upon the hier-
archy of Ireland to withstand mixed education, this is no
exercise of his infallibility. It may be added that the field
of morals contains so little that is unknown and unexplored,
in contrast with revelation and doctrinal fact, which form
the domain of faith, that it is difficult to say what portions
of moral teaching in the course of 1800 years actually have
proceeded from the pope, or from the church, or where to
look for such. Nearly all that either oracle has done in this
respect, has been to condemn such propositions as in a
moral point of view are false, or dangerous, or rash; and
these condemnations, besides being such as in fact will be
found to command the assent of most men as soon as heard,
do not necessarily go so far as to present any positive state-
ments for universal acceptance. — 11. With the mention of
condemned propositions I am brought to another and large
consideration, which is one of the best illustrations that I
can give of that principle of minimizing, so necessary, as I
think, for a wise and cautious theology; at the same time I
can not insist upon it in the connection into which I am
going to introduce it, without submitting myself to the cor-
rection of divines more learned than I can pretend to be
myselſ. The infallibility, whether of the church or of the
pope, acts principally or Solely in two channels, in direct
statements of truth, and in the condemnation of error. The
former takes the shape of doctrinal definitions, the latter
stigmatizes propositions as heretical, next to heresy, errone-
ous, and the like. In each case the church, as guided by her
Divine Master, has made provision for weighing as lightly
as possible on the faith and conscience of her children. As
to the condemnation of propositions, all she tells us is, that the
thesis condemned when taken as a whole, or, again, when
viewed. in its context, is heretical, or blasphemous, or im-
pious, or whatever other epithet she affixes to it. We have
only to trust her so far as to allow ourselves to be warned
against the thesis, or the work containing it. Theologians
employ themselves in determining what precisely it is that
is condemned in that thesis or treatise; and doubtless in
most cases they do so with success; but that determination
is not de fide; all that is of faith is, that there is in that
thesis itself, which is noted, heresy or error, or other peccant
matter, as the case may be, such that the censure is a per-
emptory command to theologians, preachers, students and
all other whom it concerns, to keep clear of it. But so light
is this obligation, that instances frequently occur, when it is
successfully maintained by some new writer, that the pope's
act does not imply what it has seemed to imply, and ques-
tions which seemed to be closed, are, after a course of years,
reopened. In discussions such as these, there is a real exer-
cise of private judgment, and an allowable one; the act of
faith, which can not be superseded or trifled with, being, I
repeat, the unreserved acceptance that the thesis in question
is heretical, or erroneous in faith, etc., as the pope or the
church has spoken of it. In these cases, which in a true
sense may be called the pope's negative enunciations, the
opportunity of a legitimate minimizing lies in the intensely
concrete character of the matters condemned; in his affirma-
tive enunciations a like opportunity is afforded by their being
more or less abstract. Indeed, excepting Such as relate to
And again, his -
658
RUSSIA.
tral Asia, 2,626,246. The increase in the popula-
tion can only be estimated on absolute bases since
1835; the following are the figures given by M.
Schnitzler (Empire des Tzars): 1835, 59,000,000;
1851, 69,000,000; 1860, 75,000,000. The 81,000,000
of 1867, distributed over the whole surface, gives
persons, that is, to the trinity in unity, the blessed virgin,
the Saints, and the like, all the dogmas of pope or of council
are but general, and So far, in consequence, admit of excep-
tions in their actual application, these exceptions being
determined either by other authoritative utterances, or by
the scrutinizing vigilance, acuteness and subtlety of the
Schola Theologorum. — One of the most remarkable in-
stances of what I am insisting on is found in a dogma, which
no Catholic can ever think of disputing, viz., that “out of
the church, and out of the faith, is no salvation.” Not to go
to Scripture, it is the doctrine of St. Ignatius, St. Irenaeus, St.
Cyprian in the first three centuries, as of St. Augustine and
his contemporaries in the fourth and fifth. It can never be
other than an elementary truth of Christianity; and the pres-
ent pope has proclaimed it, as all popes, doctors and bishops
before him. But that truth has two aspects, according as the
force of the negative falls upon the ‘church' or upon the
‘salvation.” The main sense is, that there is no other com-
munion or so-called church, but the Catholic, in which are
Stored the promises, the Sacraments, and other means of sal-
vation; the other and derived sense is, that no one can be
saved who is not in that one and only church. But it does
not follow, because there is no church but one which has
the evangelical gifts and privileges to bestow, that therefore
no one can be saved without the intervention of that one
church. Anglicans quite understand this distinction; for,
on the one hand, their article says, “they are to be had
accursed (amathematizandā) that presume to say, that every
man shall be saved by (in) the law or sect which he profes-
seth, so that he be diligent to frame his life according to that
law and the light of nature; while, on the other hand, they
speak of and hold the doctrine of the “uncovenanted mercies
of God.” The latter doctrine in its Catholic form is the doc-
trine of invincible ignorance—or, that it is possible to belong
to the soul of the church without belonging to the body; and,
at the end of 1800 years, it has been formally and authoritative-
ly put forward by the present pope (the first pope, I suppose,
who has done so), on the very same occasion on which he has
repeated the fundamental principle of exclusive salvation
itself. It is to the purpose here to quote his words; they
occur in the course of his encyclical addressed to the bish-
ops of Italy, under date of Aug. 10, 1863: “We and you know,
that those who lie under invincible ignorance as regards our
most holy religion, and who, diligently observing the natural
law and its precepts, which are engraven by God on the hearts
of all, and prepared to obey God, lead a good and upright
life, are able, by the operation of the power of divine light
and grace, to obtain eternal life.” Who would at first sight
gather from the wording of so forcible a universal, that an
exception to its operation, such as this, so distinct, and, for
what we know, so very wide, was consistent with holding it?
Another instance of a similar kind is the general acceptance
in the Latin church, since the time of St. Augustine, of the
doctrine of absolute predestination, as instanced in the teach-
ing of other great Saints beside him, such as St. Fulgentius,
St. Prosper, St. Gregory, St. Thomas and St. Buonaventure.
Yet in the last centuries a great explanation and modification
of this doctrine has been effected by the efforts of the Jesuit
School, which have issued in the reception of a distinction be-
tween predestination to grace and predestination to glory; and
a consequent admission of the principle that, though our own
Works do not avail for bringing us into a state of salvation on
earth, they do avail, when in that state of salvation or grace,
for our attainment of eternal glory in heaven. Two saints
of late centuries, St. Francis de Sales and St. Alfonso, seem
to have professed this less rigid opinion, which is now the
more common doctrine of the day. Another instance is sup-
only 4.2 inhabitants to the square kilometre. The
most populous part is Poland, nineteen inhabit-
ants to the square kilometre, while in Siberia there
is only one inhabitant per 3.3 square kilometres. –
The empire embraces nine distinct races: 1, the
Slaves, who are the most numerous and who in-
* The pope speaks more forcibly still in an earlier allocution.
After mentioning invincible ignorance, he adds: “Quistantum
Sibi arroget, ut hujusmodi ignorantiae designare limites queat,
juxta populorum, regionum, ingeniorum, aliarumque rerum
tam multarum rationem et varietatem?” (Dec. 9, 1854.)
plied by the papal decisions concerning usury. Pope Clement
V., in the council of Vienne, declares, “If any one shall have
fallen into the error of pertinaciously presuming to affirm
that usury is no sin, we determine that he is to be punished
as a heretic.” However, in the year 1831, the Sacred Poemätem-
tiaria answered an inquiry on the subject, to the effect that
the holy see Suspended its decision on the point, and that a
confessor who allowed of usury was not to be disturbed, “non
esse inquietandum.” Here again a double aspect seems to
have been realized of the idea intended by the word usury.
To show how natural this process of partial and gradually
developed teaching is, we may refer to the apparent contra-
diction of Bellarmine, who says ‘the pope, whether he can
err or not, is to be obeyed by all the faithful,” (Rom. Pont.,
iv., 2), yet, as I have quoted him above, sets down (ii., 29)
cases in which he is not to be obeyed. An illustration may
be given in political history in the discussions which took
place years ago as to the force of the sovereign's coronation
Oath to uphold the Established church. The words were
large and general, and seemed to preclude any act on his
part to the prejudice of the Establishment; but lawyers suc-
ceeded at length in making a distinction between the legis-
lative and executive action of the crown which is now gener-
ally accepted. These instances, out of many similar, are
sufficient to show what caution is be observed, on the part of
private and unauthorized persons, in imposing upon the con-
Sciences of others any interpretation of dogmatic enuncia-
tions which is beyond the legitimate sense of the words,
inconsistent with the principle that all general rules have
exceptions, and unrecognized by the theological Schola.-12.
From these various considerations it follows, that papal and
Synodal definitions, obligatory on our faith, are of rare occur-
renoe; and this is confessed by all sober theologians. Father
O'Reilly, for instance, of Dublin, one of the first theologians
of the day, says: ‘The papal infallibility is comparatively
seldom brought into action. I am very far from denying
that the vicar of Christ is largely assisted by God in the ful-
fillment of his sublime office, that he receives great light and
strength to do well the great work intrusted to him and im-
posed on him, that he is continually guided from above in
the government of the Catholic church. But this is not the
meaning of infallibility. * * What is the use of dragging
in the infallibility in connection with papal acts with which
it has nothing to do? Papal acts, which are very good and
very holy, and entitled to all respect and obedience, acts in
which the pontiff is commonly not mistaken, but in which he
could be mistaken and still remain infallible in the only
sense in which he has been declared to be so.” (“The Irish
Monthly," vol. ii., No. 10, 1874.) This great authority goes
on to disclaim any desire to minimize, but there is, I hope,
no real difference between us here. He, I am sure, would
sanction me in my repugnance to impose upon the faith of
others more than what the church distinctly claims of them:
and I should follow him in thinking it a more scriptural,
Christian, dutiful, happy frame of mind, to be easy, than to
be difficult, of belief. I have already spoken of that uncath-
olic spirit, which starts with, a grudging faith in the word of
the church, and determines to hold nothing but what it is, as if
by demonstration, compelled to believe. To be a true Cath-
olic a man must have a generous loyalty toward ecclesiastical
authority, and accept what is taught him with what is called
the pietas fidei, and only such a tone of mind has a claim,
and it certainly has a claim, to be met and to be handled
with a wise and gentle minimism. Still the fact remains,
that there has been of late years a fierce and intolerant tem-
per abroad, which scorns and virtually tramples on the little
ones of Christ. —I end with an extract from the pastoral of
the Swiss bishops, a pastoral which has received the pope's
approbation: ‘It in no way depends upon the caprice of the
+ Vide Fessler also; and I believe Father Perrone says the
Sàrºle,
RUSSIA.
659
habit the centre of Russia; 2, the Lettes or Lithu-
anians; 3, the Finns, who inhabit the north of
Russia and Siberia; 4, the Germans of Livonia,
IEsthonia and Courland; 5, the Turks, who inhab-
it the southeast ; 6, the Caucasians; 7, the Jews;
8, the Mongols, or Tartars; 9, the Mandchous
of Siberia. *—I. Social and Political Comdition.
pope, or upon his good pleasure, to make such and such a
doctrine the object of a dogmatic definition. He is tied up
and limited to the divine revelation, and to the truths which
that revelation contains. He is tied up and limited by the
creeds already in existence, and by the preceding definitions
of the church. He is tied up and limited by the divine law,
and by the constitution of the church. Lastly, he is tied up
and limited by that doctrine, divinely revealed, which affirms
that alongside religious society there is civil society, that
alongside the ecclesiastical hierarchy, there is the power of
temporal magistrates, invested in their own domain with a
full sovereignty, and to whom we owe obedience in con-
Science, and respect in all things morally permitted, and be-
longing to the domain of civil Society.’” — JoHN HENRY
‘CARDINAL NEWMAN.
* The Russian empire comprises one-seventh of the ter-
ritorial part of the globe, and about one twenty-sixth part of
its entire surface. Owing to the vast extent of the empire,
and its social condition, no surveys that can lay claim to ac-
curacy have yet been made, and the area is obtained in
greater part from estimates. There has been, likewise, no
general census of the population, but various enumerations,
made by the government during the years 1870 to 1873, mainly
undertaken for purposes of finance or war, serve to furnish
an approximately correct return of the numbers of the people.
The density of population of European Russia is considerably
greater than that of the Asiatic part of the empire. Russia
in Europe has, on the average, thirty-four individuals to the
Square mile, while Asiatic Russia has barely more than a
single individual to the square mile.— By articles forty-two
and fifty-nine of the treaty of Berlin, signed July 13, 1878,
Russia added to its vast territories the province of Bessarabia,
taken from Roumania, together with the districts of Ardahan,
JKars and Batoum, in Asia Minor, detached from the Turkish
empire. Bessarabia has an estimated area of 3,720 English
isquare miles, with a population of 140,000. According to the
most reliable estimates, the newly acquired district in Asia
Minor, formed, provisionally, into the government of Kars,
embraces an area of 5,670 English square miles, with a total
population of 600,644, comprising 417,602 Mohammedans and
183,042 Christians. – In 1881 most of Kuldja was restored to
China, leaving Russia only 5,500 square miles and 26,000 in-
habitants. To the above have also to be added the trans-
-Caspian territory, 123,250 square miles, 275,000 inhabitants,
and Fergana, 28,040 square miles, 800,000 inhabitants. More
recent enumerations give the population of Poland (1872) as
6,528,017; Finland (1879), 2,028,021; Caucasus (1873–6, inclu-
sive of additions), 5,391,744; Siberia (1873), 3,440,362; and the
whole of Central Asia, 4,401,876. — According to official re-
turns of births and deaths for the years 1867–70, the popula-
tion progresses at an average increase of 781,000 a year; a
percentage which, supposing the inhabitants always to mul-
tiply at the same rate, would double the population in fifty-
eight years. — The vast majority of the population of Russia
are devoted to agricultural occupations, and dwell in villages,
spread thinly over the vast area of the empire. According to
local enumerations made at various periods, there are but
seventeen towns containing more than 50,000 inhabitants.
The list is as follows:
St. Petersburg (1881)--861,900 Kasan --------------- 78,602
Moscow (1871) ------- 11,970 || Kief (1874).----------- 127,251
Warsaw (1878)-------. 336,703 || Nicolaief (1875) -- ---- 82,805
‘Odessa (1873).--------- 184,819 || Tiflis (1876). ---------- 104,024
Kichenef (Bessarabia) 103,998 || Kharkof (1879) ------- 101,175
Riga (1881) ----------- 160,000 | Tula ----------------- 58,150
Saratof -------------- 3,218 Berditchef ----------- 52,786
'Tashkend (1879) ------ 81,951 | Samara.--------------- 51,947
Vilna ---------------- ,265
In the larger towns a considerable proportion of the trading
and industrial population are either aliens, or of foreign ex-
The sovereign, as his title of emperor and auto-
crat of all the Russias indicates, is invested with
a power without limit or control; not only is he
Supreme chief and legislator, but it is even only
under his authority and by virtue of his delega-
tion that the synod, charged with governing the
national church, acts. In a vast country com-
posed, like Russia, of heterogeneous elements
more or less behind the times, this autocracy
Serves to give them the necessary cohesion, and,
when it falls to a sovereign who is animated by
love of the public webfare, may accelerate the
progress of civilization; thus it allowed the em-
peror Alexander II. to bring about reforms and
to found new institutions which are destined to
be the glory of his reign. — The monarchy is
hereditary in the males, in the order of primo-
geniture. When there is no male branch, the
princess who is the nearest relation of the last
sovereign, succeeds him; the others are called to
the throne only in case she leaves no direct heir.
(Family law of 1797.) The emperor has the power
to provide for the case of his leaving, at his death,
an heir who is a minor, and to appoint a regent
and a guardian. If he dies without having taken
this measure, the regency devolves on the empress
dowager or on the nearest agnate, to the exclusion
of the father-in-law or mother-in-law of the new
Sovereign, and the regent has to form a council of
regency of six members. The sovereign attains his
majority at sixteen years of age; the other princes
of the family at eighteen. Their wives are not qual-
ified to share their rank, and the children which
they bear can not be called to the throne, unless they
belong to a sovereign house and profess the Ortho-
dox Greek religion. — The dotation of the crown
is fixed by the emperor. It consists of imperial
appanages and of a civil list. — Nobility. There
is a nobility of birth and a nobility of service.
Peter the Great subordinated the first to the sec-
Ond, and classed by ranks the civil and military
functions. There are fourteen classes, as follows:
1, chancellor of the empire, field marshal, admi-
ral general, privy Councilor of the first class; 2,
traction. — The population of Russia proper is composed of
three groups: Great Russians, or Veliko-Russ; Little Rus-
sians, or Malo-Russ; and White Russians, or Bélo-Russ. The
first, numbering 35,000,000, all belonging to the Slavonian
race, occupy the central provinces; the second, numbering
about 11,000,000, compose the bulk of the population of Pol-
tava, Kharkof, Chernigof, Kief, Volhynia, Podolsk, Ekater-
inoslaſ, and the Taurida; the White Russians, about 3,000,000,
inhabit the provinces of Monilef, Minsk, Vitebsk and Grodno.
Besides these three groups of Russians proper, there is a
great variety of national elements in the general population
of the Russian empire. — Since the emancipation act of 1861
the cultivable lands of Russia proper in Europe have been
approximately distributed as follows:
- Per cent.
Town lands, about ------------------------------------- 0.4
Crown lands, about- ------------------------- ---. 34.6
Lands attached to mines------- ------------------------ 3.5
Lands held by peasants: 1, crown peasants, 15.6 per cent. 20.6
Lands held by peasants: 2, former serfs, 5.0 “ ſ.v.
Lands held by landed gentry and nobility---------------- 19 7
Lands held by other proprietors, or not Surveyed -------- 20.4
It will be seen, that about one-third of the cultivable land in
Russia proper is held by the state; one-fifth by landed pro-
prietors; and one-fifth by the peasantry.—F. M.
660
RUSSIA.
general-in-chief, admiral, privy councilor of the
second class; 3, lieutenant general, vice-admiral,
privy Councilor; 4, major general, rear admiral,
councilor of state of the first class; 5, councilor
of State. The next four classes include the colo-
nels, lieutenant colonels, majors, staff captains,
and Some civil functionaries. In the last five are
ranged the inferior officers, with certain function-
aries. Nobility is hereditary in the first five classes,
and personal only in the next four; the function-
aries of the last five classes become personal no-
bles by advancement. Every noble owes a per-
Sonal service to the state, under penalty of forfeit-
ure of nobility, if three generations pass without
this condition being fulfilled. The titles are those
of prince, count and baron. There were, in 1867,
591,266 hereditary nobles and 327,764 personal no-
bles. By a manifesto of April 2, 1801, no noble
can, without a regular trial and sentence, be de-
prived of nobility, honor, life or property. A no-
ble can be tried only by a tribunal composed of
nobles, and if the sentence is loss of nobility,
honor or life, it must be confirmed by the senate
and by the sovereign. The nobles are exempted
from all corporal punishment, if only non-com-
missioned officers or soldiers. If they are deprived
of their property, it goes to the nearest heir. Their
houses are exempt from all quartering of Soldiers.
In each government the nobles possessing at least
300 déciatines of land (328 hectares) or a house
worth 15,000 roubles (60,000 francs), or else who
are included in the first five classes, have the right
to assemble in the chief town every three years.
Those who do not fulfill these conditions, meet in
each district to elect delegates to the assembly of
the government. This assembly elects a marshal
and district marshals, charged with watching over
the interests of the nobility and representing it at
the central administration. The same assembly
elects the judges and assessors of the tribunals, as
well as the chief of police of each district; it at-
tends to the distribution of the taxes and deliber-
ates as to the interests of the province. It also
exercises a disciplinary power over the members
of the nobility; it examines the titles, judges the
nobles who are accused of dissipating their for-
tune, and places them under guardianship if occa-
sion requires. The nominations of functionaries
are submitted to the approval of the emperor or
of the governor according to the importance of
the function. — Bourgeoisie. The bourgeoisie, es-
tablished by a statute of April 24, 1785, is divided
into six classes: 1, owners of immovable property;
2, members of guilds; 3, domiciled foreign mer-
chants; 4, notable bourgeois (see below); 5, arti-
sans, members of trade corporations; 6, Small
tradesmen, Small manufacturers, lesser employés,
etc. A manifesto of 1832 established a notable
bourgeoisie, for life or hereditary. The first can
be conferred upon former students of universities
who have obtained a certificate of having made
good progress in studies, and upon artisans fur-
nished with a diploma from the academy of fine
arts. The hereditary bourgeoisie may be obtained
by merchants fulfilling certain conditions, doctors.
of a Russian university, pupils of the academy of
fine arts furnished with a diploma, and foreign
Savants, artists, merchants or workers of industry
after ten years’ residence in the country. The sons.
of personal nobles are notable bourgeois by right.
of birth. . The senate examines the titles and de-
livers the diplomas. It may confer notable bour-
geoisie for life upon foreign savants, artists, mer-
chants or manufacturers. — Peasants. The inhab-
itants of the rural districts form nine-tenths of
the total population; they are distributed through
about 300,000 villages or hamlets, and are subject
to a poll tax. In 1861, when serfdom was abol-
isled, the peasants of the domains of the state
and of the imperial appanages, to the number of
25,000,000, were already almost all freed, and there
were 23,000,000 others attached to the soil. These
latter owed their respective lords three days’ labor
a week; the other four days were at their disposal
to cultivate a lot of land the products of which
were given to them to supply the wants of them-
selves and their families. They could not change
their residence without permission from their lord.
The latter could sell them or mortgage them for
So much per head, with the piece of land to which
they were attached: he had over them the author-
ity of a father; he could impose a profession upon
them, permit or forbid them to marry, and inflict.
corporal punishments, death excepted, upon them.
The serfs of a domain formed, under the guard-
ianship of the lord, a rural commune, adminis-
tered by an assembly composed of heads of fami-
lies and by a chief called Staroste, whom they
elected from among their own number. It was to
the commune that the land was granted by the
lord, and it was charged with dividing it among
the families according to the number of able-
bodied workmen they contained, and, conse-
quently, according to the amount of days’ labor
they could furnish. Where the land did not fur-
nish enough to support the peasants, the lord
rented it and gave up his right to enforced labor.
Besides the serfs employed in the cultivation of
the land, there were those who were attached, as
domestics, to the service of the lord, and others
whom he could authorize, in consideration of a.
sum paid, called obrok, to carry on some trade,
either in the domain or elsewhere. In return for
the revenue which the work of the serfs procured
for him, the lord was bound to protect them and,
to help them in case of need; he was subject,
therefore, to the expense and trouble of adminis-
tration which this obligation involved, and he was.
responsible for the payment of the taxes. – The
number of owners of serfs was estimated at.
103,195, of whom 3,700 possessed no land. (See
the statistical work of M. Troſnizki.) The 103,195.
owners were divided as follows: 42,978 possessing
from 1 to 21 male serfs, in all, 339,586 serfs;
36,194, from 21 to 100 male serfs, 1,697,914;
20,165, from 101 to 500 male serfs, 3,974,629;.
2,462, from 501 to 1,000 male serfs, 1,597,691;
1,396, possessing 1,001 male Serfs and more; in
RUSSIA.
661
all, 3,074,033. Thus, among the small proprie-
tors, the one who possessed twenty serfs derived
from them, at eight roubles per head, only 640
francs a year, to which were added the products
of the land. A large proprietor received, for 1,000
serfs, 32,000 francs. The number of those who
possessed from 20,000 to 50,000 was very small.
In 1850, 44,166 estates, with 7,107,184 serfs, were
mortgaged in the banks for 425,503,061 roubles,
1,500,000,000 francs. (See the work of M. Schnitz-
ler.) — The law, in freeing the serfs, regulated:
1, their rights and those of the former proprie-
tors; 2, the means of existence of the freedmen;
3, the conditions by which they could become
proprietors of the lands which they cultivated.
The lords were freed from their duties of guard-
ianship. They preserved their rights of property
in the lands which belonged to them, but on con-
dition of allowing the peasants, by the payment
of a sum fixed by the law, to enjoy the pieces of
ground which they occupied and also a quantity
of land which varied according to its productive
quality. These lands were intended to furnish
the peasants with a living, and to place them in a
position to fulfill the obligations which were im-
posed upon them for their redemption from serf-
dom. — It was not to the peasants but to the com-
mune that these lands were granted. They belong
to it in perpetuity, to be exploited in common ac-
cording to immemorial custom or in separate lots.
This second method is only the exception; it can
be substituted for exploitation in common only
with the consent of two-thirds of the inhabitants
of the commune and of the proprietor. — The
commune is charged with indemnifying the pro-
prietor either with labor or in money, as the par-
ties choose; moreover, it is responsible to the treas-
ury for the payment of the taxes. From this
double responsibility proceeds the right of using
force against peasants who do not fulfill their ob-
ligations. Besides the ordinary proceedings, the
commune has the right to hire out a man in ar-
rears or some one of his family for outside work,
in the same district or in a neighboring district,
and the wages paid for his work must be given
to the commune. Those who do not fulfill their
obligations, through obstinacy, idleness, or in con-
sequence of intemperance, can be hired out in
other governments, provided the decision of the
communal assembly be confirmed by the justice
of the peace. In case the land is enjoyed in lots,
the responsibility is personal, and may lead to ex-
pulsion from the commune and the sale of the lots
granted. When it is arranged that the indemnity
due the proprietor is to be paid in forced labor,
such labor is limited to two days a week for both
men and women. The dues are eight to twelve
roubles for each grantee. The peasants who were
subjected to the corvée have the right to pay mon-
ey instead, without the proprietor being able to
<onstrain them thereto. — The pieces of ground
occupied by the peasants must be granted to them
in full ownership as soon as they demand it; the
price of sale is fixed by law. As for the lands the
enjoyment of which had to be allowed them, the
proprietors are at liberty to consent to the sale, or
to refuse it and to hold to the stipulations fixing
the corvée or the dues. When the sale has taken
place, and the purchasers, whether peasants or the
commune, can not pay the price, the government
intervenes; it capitalizes the dues at 6 per cent.,
and gives the sum to the proprietor, half in special
certificates, issued in the name of the latter at 5%
per cent., and not negotiable at the Bourse, and
half in bonds payable to the bearer at 5 per cent.,
and negotiable like the Russian public stocks; 20
per cent. of the capital is retained to cover the
expenses of collection, arrears and worthless debts.
If the sale is made with the consent of the peas.
ants, the 20 per cent. must be paid by them; in
the contrary case, it is charged to the proprietor;
and, if the state institutions of credit hold a mort-
gage upon the property, the sum is taken out of
the price of sale. The purchasers discharge their
indebtedness to the state by paying, for forty-nine
years, an annuity of 6 per cent., of which 5 rep-
resents the interest and 1 the amortizement. As
long as the peasants are indebted either to the
proprietor, if they have treated directly with him,
or to the state, if it has paid for them the price of
redemption, they can not leave the commune with-
out the consent of the proprietor and of the com-
mune, and without justifying by depositing in the
communal treasury a sum equal to the dues or fine
capitalized at 6 per cent. — According to the offi-
cial returns, the acts and transactions of redemp-
tion amounted to 79,599 on Jan. 1, 1873; 21,201
were concluded privately. The peasants who had
become proprietors of the lands they cultivated,
numbered 6,858,334, the extent of these lands
was 21,120,152 déciatines (23,088,550 hectares),
and the sums lent by the state amounted to
630,467,115 roubles. Of the sum of 41,222,629
roubles, which the peasants had to pay in 1872,
there remained in arrears ºnly 316,604 roubles.
As in certain districts the amount fixed for reim-
bursement evidently exceeded the resources of
the debtors, the government reduced their annu-
al payments. The serfs called doorovyč, attached
to the service of the lords, or authorized by them
to practice a trade in consideration of the payment
of the obrok, were freed at the expiration of two
years. — The government, wishing to be informed
of the changes produced by the emancipation,
charged a commission to institute an inquiry,
the results of which were published in 1873. The
condition of the peasants has sensibly improved,
both materially and morally, in the northwest,
with the exception of the marshy districts of
Pinsk and the banks of the Pripet. In the South,
well-being increased without any advance in mo-
rality. No improvement has been produced in Lit-
tle Russia. In the rest of the empire, the increase
of well-being is scarcely apparent, and the intel-
lectual and moral faculties are as little developed
as before. Finally, in Great Russia the consump-
tion of brandy has considerably increased. Ex-
ploitation in common continues to prevail; the
662
RUSSIA.
peasant is bound to the commune as long as he
has not paid the price of redemption, and, in the
meanwhile, he has scarcely effected anything but
to exchange the guardianship of the lord for that
of the commune. Now it would appear that there
was little to boast of in the communal adminis-
tration and in the administration of justice. Their
burdens have increased; the communes expending
much more than formerly, their taxes have reached
(1874) a total of 30,000,000 roubles; the provincial
taxes have increased in a similar manner; the state
taxes have not diminished, and both weigh almost
exclusively upon the peasants. Therefore the com-
mission recommended new reforms to bring eman-
cipation to a good result. (For the effects pro-
duced upon agriculture and upon the condition
of the proprietors, see IX. Resources.) — In Po-
land the serfs numbered about 3,700,000. By
virtue of four ukases of 1864, they acquired the
ownership of the lands and buildings of which
they had the usufruct, in consideration of corvées,
prestations and dues of all kinds. All these
charges, those which were arbitrary or exceptional
being deducted, were converted into a land tax,
and they served as a basis for the indemnity which
was paid to the proprietors in bonds bearing 4 per
cent, interest, and redeemable by an annual draw-
ing by lot. — II. Administration. Below the em-
peror, to whom belongs the plenitude of execu-
tive power, the highest administrative authority
is the council of the empire. The matters within
its jurisdiction are the discussion and drawing up
of legislative acts, the interpretation of the laws
in case the tribunals do not catch the true sense
of them, the establishment of the budget, new
measures in the administration of the finances,
the examination of the annual accounts rendered
by the ministers, the solution of litigious questions
relative to the administration or expropriation for
public utility, finally, the political affairs upon
which the council is consulted by the emperor.
The ministers have a seat in the council, by right;
the other members are unlimited as to number;
the emperor chooses them as he pleases, and gives
the presidency to one of the first personages of the
state. The president is assisted by a secretary of
the empire, an intermediary between the emperor
and the council, and charged with the preparatory
labors and the recording of the deliberations, copy-
ing the records of them, etc.— Another great body
of state is the directing senate, which was estab-
lished in 1718, and reorganized in 1802. It is at
once a Supreme Court of appeal, judging in the
last resort, with the exception of appeals to the
emperor, in all civil and criminal matters, a su-
preme administrative tribunal, and a high politi-
cal court in special cases. It is charged, besides,
with seeing to the execution of the laws; it has
the right to demand account of their management
of all the functionaries, including the ministers;
it watches Over the collection of the taxes and the
employment of public funds; it has the care of
the archives; it appoints to a great number of
offices; it orders all measures necessary to the
maintenance of order, subject to the right, which
belongs to the emperor, of annulling these deci-
sions; finally, it is charged with promulgating the
acts emanating from the emperor. — The senate is
divided into ten departments, of which five sit at
St. Petersburg, three at Moscow, and two at War-
saw. In connection with each department there
is a high imperial procurator, who has the right
of control over the deliberations, and whose sig-
nature is necessary for a judgment to be execu-
tory. The senators are appointed by the emperor.
—The ministries date only from 1802. They are
twelve in number, namely : 1, the ministry of the
imperial court, which includes the imperial orders,
the appanages, the revenues of the emperor, the
ceremonial, the imperial theatres and other estab-
lishments dependent on the crown; 2, the minister
of war; 3, of foreign affairs; 4, of the navy; 5,
of the interior ; 6, of public instruction ; 7, of
postoffices and telegraphs; 8, of the finances,
comprising the mines and salt works, the metal-
lurgic factories, manufactures and domestic com-
merce; 9, of the domains of the state, comprising
the inspection of farming, the direction of the
agricultural schools and of the model farms, and
the forests; 10, of justice, including the corps of
surveyors, the schools of surveying, and the law
school; 11, of the means of communication and
public edifices; 12, of the control charged with
the examination of civil and military accounts.
The emperor has his own chancellery, which is.
charged, among other duties, with the publication
of the laws, with political police, and the estab-
lishments of charity and instruction placed under
the direction of the empress. To the same chan-
cellery is attached the commission of requests.
or petitions. – Territorial Administration. Po-
land and the grand duchy of Finland each form.
a separate government. In the first, affairs are:
directed by a lieutenant of the emperor, assisted
by a council of government. Under his presi-
dency sits a deliberative assembly, called a coun-
cil of state, and composed of fifteen permanent.
members and seven temporary members, appoint-
ed by the emperor. Finland is administered by
a governor general, assisted by a Senate, the
members of which are appointed by the emper-
or. The legislative power belongs to the diet,
composed of deputies of the nobility, of the
Lutheran clergy, of the inhabitants of cities, and
of peasants. The presidency belongs to the pres-
ident of the nobility, who is appointed by the em-
peror. The decisions have the force of law only
with the imperial approval. The rest of the em-
pire is divided into fifty-eight governments, three
city territories (Odessa, Taganrog and KertCh-
Jénikalé), two countries (of the Cossacks of the
Don and of the Tchernomorie), eleven oblasthes.
(provinces not as yet regularly organized), and
three districts in the country of the Kirghises. –
The six governments of the region of the Caucasus
are placed under the direction of a lieutenant of
the emperor. — Ten governors general, established.
at St. Petersburg, Moscow, Odessa, Kief, Riga,
RUSSIA.
663
Wilna, Orenburg, Tobolsk and Irkoutsk, have
under their orders the civil and military heads of
the governments comprised in their circumscrip-
tion. Each civil governor is assisted by a coun-
cil composed of three titular members and of one
or more assessors. With this council, which is
purely consultative, sit a government attorney and
two deputies, charged with defending the interests
of the crown and watching over the execution of
the laws. At St. Petersburg the city and the sub-
urbs are separated, since 1873, from the provincial
government, and fall within the jurisdiction of a
prefecture. — The governments are subdivided
into districts, which are administered by a court
composed of a president and two assessors elected
by the nobility, of two other assessors elected by
the inhabitants of the country, and of a substi-
tute of the procurator of the government. This
court serves, besides, as a tribunal of the first re-
sort for the district. — Each government has, as a
deliberating body, the assembly of the nobility, of
which mention was made above, and provincial,
government and district assemblies, created by a
law of Jan. 13, 1864. Each government assem-
bly is composed of delegates of the district assem-
blies. Moreover, in the governments which em-
brace imperial appanages, or domains of the state,
the chiefs of the councils of administration of
these appanages and domains are members by
right of the provincial assemblies. The members
of each district assembly are elected by three cat-
egories of electors, which assemble and act sepa-
rately: these are, 1, the proprietors (nobles or not);
2, the inhabitants of cities; and 3, the inhabitants
of rural communes. They must all be fully
twenty-five years of age. To be an elector as
proprietor, it is necessary to possess, outside of
the cities, from 200 to 800 déciatimes of land, or
of immovable property, having at least a value of
1,500 roubles, or to carry on an industrial estab-
lishment doing a business of at least 6,000 roubles
yearly, or to be a permanent holder of determinate
church property. The electors may be represented
by mandatories of their choice, but the holders of
church property are always obliged to be repre-
sented. Small proprietors, who have not the re-
quired number of déciatines, can join together, so
as to reach (two or more uniting) the electoral
property qualification, and appoint a mandatory
to represent them. The inhabitants of cities must,
to be electors, produce a merchant’s license, or
possess an industrial establishment doing an an-
nual business of at least 6,000 roubles, or immov-
able property worth from 500 to 3,000 roubles,
according to the amount of the city’s population.
As for the rural communes, their representatives
are appointed by electors, which the district as-
sembly itself chooses. Minors, absentees and wo-
men can delegate their right to vote to a manda-
tory. The members of the assemblies are elected
for three years, and receive no remuneration. The
government assemblies come together once a year
for twenty days, and the district assemblies for
ten days. Each of these assemblies is presided
over by the marshal of the nobility. Their duties
comprise: 1, the administration of the property,
capital and revenues of the province; 2, the con-
struction and maintenance of buildings belonging
to the province, and of roads which are in its
charge; 3, measures useful for the welfare of the
population; 4, measures of public assistance, the
administration of charitable institutions and the
construction of churches; 5, the administration
of mutual insurance companies established in
the province; 6, measures proper to develop com-
merce and industry therein; 7, measures concern-
ing popular instruction, public health and prisons;
8, measures to be taken against epidemics and the
ravages of noxious animals; 9, the distribution
of certain state taxes, the voting and distribution
of local taxes, and the application of the product
of these taxes to the expenses of the government
and the district; 10, the choice of members of the
permanent executive commission, which sits in the
absence of the assembly. The government com-
mission is composed of a president, and of two to
six members, elected for three years, who receive
a salary fixed by the assembly. The district com-
missions are composed of two or three members.
The presidents must be confirmed by the minister
of the interior. This organization is not yet ap-
plied to all the governments; in some of them the
anterior system is retained for various reasons. –
Municipal Administration. Each city has its mu-
nicipal body, composed of the golova (mayor), dep-
uties, and a deliberative assembly. All the mem-
bers of the municipal body are elected by an as-
sembly, composed: 1, of owners of immovable
property paying a tax to the city; 2, of proprie-
tors and directors of commercial and industrial
establishments; 3, of all persons domiciled in the
city for at least two years, and able to prove that
they pay a tax to the city. The duties of the mu-
nicipal body include, besides the management of
municipal affairs, the maintenance of order, the
taking of measures of public Safety and health,
making regulations concerning the ports, mar-
kets, exchanges and institutions of credit; the
organization of charitable establishments and hos-
pitals, the foundation of libraries, museums and
theatres, and measures suited to develop public
instruction, commerce and local industry. A
council of six members, elected in the municipal
body, performs the functions of a police court, of
a chamber of commerce and a tribunal of Com-
merce, taking cognizance of litigation among the
inhabitants. – Rural Communes. The rural Com-
mune is, as before the emancipation of the serfs,
an association of peasants exploiting a fixed terri-
tory. The great seignioral and private estates are
outside of the communes and within the jurisdic-
tion of the provincial administration. The cities
are likewise classed apart. The heads of families
form an assembly which elects the staroste, chief
of the commune, as well as his various function-
aries, the treasurer and collector of taxes, the trus-
tee of the school or schools, the delegate to the
reserve warehouses of wheat, the hospital inspect-
664
RUSSIA.
or, the rural guard, the forest guard, and the scribe.
The assembly draws up the budget of the com-
mune, fixes the taxes necessary for the payment
of expenses, and regulates the apportionment of
the taxes due the state. If the enjoyment of the
land is in common, as is most frequently the case,
the assembly divides the lots among the families;
if it is in individual lots, the division is limited to
the lots which are not in process of cultivation.
The assembly gives their dismissal to peasants who
wish to live elsewhere, on their fulfilling the pre-
scribed conditions; it decides as to the admission
and settlement of new heads of families; it gives
guardians to minors, and authorizes family divis-
ions; finally, it sits as a police court and deals out
penalties, from the simplest fine to the expulsion
of peasants judged “harmful or vicious” from
the commune. The decisions are made by the ab-
Solute majority, except in certain cases in which a
two-thirds vote is required: for example, the sub-
stitution of individual enjoyment of the land for
enjoyment in common, the renewing of the lots,
and exclusion from the commune. In the rural
communes in which the dues are paid in money and
in labor, the inhabitants subject to the obrok and
those subject to the corvée may form separate as-
semblies. – The staroste is the president of the as-
sembly, and sees to the execution of its decisions.
He takes all simple police measures; he pays into
the proper hands the taxes and the payments for
redemption; he controls the employment of the
communal funds; finally, he is the representative
of the commune in the volosth (see below), and
with the authorities of the district, the province
and the state. — Above the commune is the volosth
or canton, which includes many communes belong-
ing to the same district, or comprises only a single
commune when the population is large enough.
The administration of the volosth is composed of
a chief called starchºna, of two or three assistants,
of an assembly of delegates of the communes
(one to every ten families), and of a council in
conjunction with the starchina, to assist him in
his functions, and composed of his assistants, the
Starostes of the communes of the volosth, and col-
lectors of the taxes. The assembly comes together
in the most central or the most important village;
it regulates the common interests of the volosth,
decrees the measures of public assistance, controls
the accounts, and fixes the taxes and the dues.
The duties of the starchima are similar to those of
the staroste, but of a higher degree. He decides, in
the last resort, on cases of simple offenses against
the police regulations. To be eligible to the office
of starchina, staroste, assistant, collector of taxes,
or as a member of the council of regency, it is nec-
essary to be at least twenty-five years of age. The
term of office is three years; office can not be re-
fused unless one can prove that he is sixty years
old or has serious infirmities, or unless he has al-
ready filled it. Substitutes are appointed to avoid
the occurrence of vacancies. – III. Religion. The
population of Russia in Europe, in 1874, was di-
vided, as regards religion, as follows: Orthodox
Greeks, 53,169,019; Dissenters (raskolniks),926,631;
United Greeks, 229,260; Gregorian Armenians,
37,136; Roman Catholics, 7,209,464; Protestants,
2,565,354; Israelites, 2,612,019; Mohammedans,
2,359,372; Pagans, 255,975. The inhabitants of
the grand duchy of Finland (1,843,253) are nearly
all Lutherans. For Asia, the almanac of the em-
pire gives the following figures: Orthodox Greeks,
4,936,917; Dissenters (raskolniks), 166,985; Grego-
rian Armenians, 560,684; Roman Catholics, 54,106;
Protestants, 16,337; Israelites, 34,857; Mohammed.
ans, 3,267,650 ; Pagans, Guebres, Shamanists,
295,734. The orthodox Greek religion is the re-
ligion of the state; but other creeds, as well as
the Pagans, enjoy an equal liberty. — The national
church is governed by a college called the very
holy synod, under the authority of the emperor
and by virtue of his delegation. Peter the Great
established this college in 1721, and at the same
time sanctioned the laws which govern the church.
The synod is composed of titular members and of
assistant members ; the first, to the number of
eight or nine, are the principal prelates of the em-
piré, metropolitans, archbishops or archimandrites;
the second are prelates who leave in turn their dio-
ceses or monasteries to attend the sessions, as well
as three laymen, one of whom is a high agent in-
vested with powers by the emperor, and the two
others functionaries by whom he is assisted. The
first metropolitans and the exarch of Grousia are
members by right and for life; the others are ap-
pointed by the emperor for a certain time. The
acts emanating from the holy synod are valid only
on condition of their receiving the imperial ap-
proval. The candidates for ecclesiastical offices
are presented by the holy synod for appointment
by the emperor, who can displace or remove a
priest whom he judges unworthy of his office.
But he does not decide in matters of faith; in case
of disagreement upon a question of doctrine, he
refers the matter either to the holy synod or to a
special synod. — The dioceses number fifty-two;
they comprised, in 1872, 38,809 churches and 3,534
chapels. In each diocese is a consistory, subor-
dinate to the holy synod. These consistories pre-
side over the acts of the civil state, watch over the
exercise of worship, the police of the churches,
the conduct of members of the clergy, and decide
in all matters ecclesiastical. —The metropolitans
receive 3,000 roubles at most, the archbishops
2,500, the bishops 2,000, and the coadjutors 500.
The salary of the curates does not reach 100 rou-
bles; but they receive fees; in the country, they
have a house, from twenty to forty déciatiné8 of
land, and wood is furnished them gratuitously.
The churches receive legacies and possess prop-
erty in most of the dioceses. – The clergy is di-
vided into secular or white, and into regular or
black. The latter are forbidden to marry; they
live in monasteries, and from among them the pre-
lates are chosen. The nobles, therefore, Who em-
brace an ecclesiastical career, enter the ranks of
the black clergy. The white clergy are recruited
almost entirely from among the Sons of popé8, or
RUSSIA.
665
curates; they must be married before ordination,
and they generally take their wives from the fam-
ilies of priests, so that this clergy forms a veritable
caste. The secular clergy was composed, in 1872,
of 1,160 archpriests, 36,440 priests, 13,250 deacons,
and 56,886 curates. The convents numbered 532,
of which 383 were for men and 149 for women.
They contained 5,810 monks and 3,280 nuns, with
5,617 lay brothers and 11,258 lay sisters. Each
monk receives an annual pension of from twelve
to fifteen roubles; the nuns are not paid anything
except in exceptional cases; most of them live on
alms and the product of their labor. — Missiona-
ries are established in Siberia and in the region of
the Volga, to labor for the conversion of the Pagans
and Mohammedans. (See CHURCH, GREEK.)* —
IV. Justice. The organization and administra-
tion of justice commenced, during the reign of
Nicholas I., to receive improvements, which were
continued and completed during the reign of Alex-
ander II. In 1833 Nicholas I. had collected, ar-
ranged and published, under the name of Svod,
36,000 civil and criminal laws made by his pred-
ecessors; he promulgated in 1845 a penal code,
and in 1846 a criminal code. Alexander II. reg-
ulated the judicial organization and criminal and
civil practice. The judicial power is entirely sepa-
rate from the other two; it is exercised by the tri-
bunals of the volosth, the police courts of the cities,
the justices of the peace, the assemblies of justices
of the peace, the district tribunals, the courts of jus-
tice, and the senate in its quality of Supreme court
of appeal. The tribunals of the volosth are com-
posed, according to the population, of from four to
* The prohibition of celibacy in the Greek church is car-
ried to such an extent that no priest can perform any spiritual
function before he is married, nor after he becomes a widow-
er; and as, by the rules of the church, he is not allowed to
remarry, the death of his wife occasions the cessation of his
‘clerical functions. A priest may, however, on the death of
Bhis wife, enter into a convent, and enjoy the privilege of be-
coming eligible to be a dignitary of the church. There are in
Russia nearly 500 cathedrals and about 29,000 churches at-
tached to the established faith, the latter employing (1883)
about 70,000 secular or parochial clergymen. The Russian
church formerly possessed immense wealth, but it was partly
confiscated by Peter I. and partly by Catherine II. The lat-
ter sovereign appropriated the whole movable property of the
church for the use of the state, assigning, in compensation,
pensions to the chief ecclesiastical dignitaries. But, with the
exception of a few benefices in St. Petersburg, Moscow, and
other principal cities, the stipends of the clergy, even when
increased by the offerings of the people, and by the fees on
occasions of births, marriages and funerals, are scarcely ade-
quate to provide for their subsistence. The total number of
the established clergy, of all ranks and orders, is stated (1883)
at 254,000. — No member of the Russo-Greek church is per-
mitted to renounce his creed; and when a marriage takes
place between one of its members and a person belonging to
another faith, the children must all be brought up in the
established church. — The number of members of the prin-
cipal creeds in European Russia was returned as below for
1879 :
Qrthodox Greek Catholics ------------------------ 63,835,000
United Greeks and Armenians -------------------- 55,000
Roman Catholics.--------------------------------- 8,300,000
Protestants --------------------------------------- 2.950,000
©WS--------- ------------------------------------ 3,000,000
Mohammedans ----------------------------------- 2,600,000
Pagans ------------------------------------------- 26,000
—F. M.
twelve judges, elected by the assembly and taken
from that body. Their functions are gratuitous.
They take cognizance of controversies among peas-
ants, unless another person is interested therein;
in this latter case the affair is referred to the Ordi-
nary court. Judgment is not given until after an
effort at conciliation has been made; the decisions
are then final and without appeal. Moreover, the
peasants are authorized, when there is no crime or
misdemeanor in question, and when the interests
of minors are not engaged in a controversy, to
refer it to a third person. This arbitration is ex-
ecutory, after it has been recorded in a register de-
posited with the council of Tegency of the volosth,
and it can not be appealed from. — The justices of
the peace exercise three orders of functions: 1, a
power of conciliation; 2, extra-judicial functions,
such as the placing and removal of Seals, etc.; 3,
judicial functions. They take cognizance of per-
sonal matters and cases involving personal prop-
erty, without appeal, up to the value of thirty
roubles, and with the privilege of appeal up to
the value of fifty roubles. In real estate cases
they have no jurisdiction; they can only pronounce
the re-establishment in their rights of proprietors
dispossessed six months before at the most. In
criminal cases the limit of their jurisdiction is de-
termined by the punishment to be inflicted; repri-
mand, remonstrance, a fine of thirty roubles at the
most, detention for three months, or imprisonment
for a year at most. An appeal is not allowed when
the penalty does not exceed three days' detention
or five roubles' fine. Appeals are brought before
the assemblies of justices of the peace, except re-
course is had to the court of cassation. — Each
district tribunal is divided into two sections, One
civil and the other criminal. The proceedings are
public. When the penalty inflicted carries with
it loss of civil rights, and there is no question of
a crime against the faith or against the state, nor
of a press offense, the tribunal is assisted by juries
selected from among persons of all classes, and
their verdict is subject only to be reversed by the
court of cassation. Press matters are brought be-
fore the court of justice of the government. In
case of a crime against the state, the court of jus-
tice that tries it is assisted by the marshal of the
nobility of the government, by a marshal of the
district, and by a golova or staroste. — Civil pro-
cedure is oral. The assistance of advocates Or
barristers, optional before the justices of the peace,
is obligatory before the superior courts. The ad-
vocates or barristers are subject to the disciplinary
power of a syndical chamber. — Connected with
each tribunal and each court there is an imperial
attorney, with one or more substitutes; and to
each department of the court of appeals there is
attached a superior procurator. — In 1863, Alex-
ander II. modified the system of Corporal and cor-
rectional punishments, and abolished the use of
the knout, as well as that of rods or sticks. The
punishment of the plete, a whip composed of Sev-
eral twisted straps, remains. The death penalty
is reserved for military justice and for cases of an
666
RUSSIA.
attempt against the state or against the person of
the sovereign. But condemnation to forced labor
in the mines is fully equivalent to the last punish-
ment, and simple transportation to Siberia, which
is always preceded by corporal punishment, is ex-
tremely rigorous. Only the women and the sick
are transported in wagons or by train; the men
|have to make the journey on foot, loaded down
With chains. Some are condemned to temporary
deportation to a fortress for a year at least, others
to transportation to a penal colony, and others to
transportation with forced labor, temporary or
perpetual. Forced labor “in perpetuity" can not
exceed, except in case of a second offense, twenty
years; after this period the condemned is set at
liberty, and placed, if he can be utilized, among
the colonists of Siberia. The number of exiles in
1874 was about 100,000. – W. Public Instruction.
Public instruction commenced only in 1863 to be
organized according to a studied plan and one
comprising the different kinds of instruction.
There are now nine universities established at St.
Petersburg, Moscow, Kharkof, Kasan, Dorpat,
Kief, Warsaw, Odessa and Helsingfors. There
were about 6,800 students and 600 free attend-
ants on the lectures in 1874. The best attended
courses are law and medicine. 2,400 students
are admitted gratuitously. Each university is ad-
ministered by a rector and a council over which
he presides. The rector and the members of the
council are elected for four years by the profes-
sors. There are, besides, the imperial institute of
history and philosophy, established at St. Peters-
burg in 1867; the Lazareff institute, for instruc-
tion in the oriental languages; the two academies
of agriculture and forestry of Warsaw and Pé-
trovsko6; a law school; a school of engineering;
three medical schools, at St. Petersburg, Moscow
and Wilna ; three veterinary schools, at Khar-
kof, Dorpat and Warsaw ; and an institute of
technology at St. Petersburg. —In 1872 the state
established commercial and industrial schools.
There were, the same year, 123 gymnasia and
23 progymnasia, in which Latin and Greek were
taught; the number of pupils was 42,791. The
expenses amounted to 4,467,644 roubles, of which
3,215,887 were charged to the state, 513,534 to
the provinces and cities, and 738,223 to the pu-
pils. For girls, there were 54 gymnasia, 108 pro-
gymnasia, and 24 other schools. The pupils num-
bered 23,400. — Superior primary instruction is
given in the district schools, and elementary pri-
mary instruction in the parish and village schools.
The number of the latter is estimated at 24,000,
and the number of pupils at 870,000. The state
established, in 1872, ten normal primary schools,
which brought the number of these institutions up
to twenty-five. Grants are voted annually by the
provincial assemblies for the establishment and
maintenance of primary and normal Schools, and
to these grants are added the private contributions,
which, from 1865 to 1871, amounted to the sum
of 1,183,540 roubles. Every one feels that the
emancipation of the serfs has rendered the spread
of primary instruction still more urgent. * — VI.
Army and Navy. The organization of the army
and of military service was reformed by a ukase
of Jan. 1, 1874. “The service,” it is said in this.
act, “weighed exclusively upon the bourgeois class
and the peasants, and a large part of the Russian
subjects were freed from a duty equally sacred to
all. This system does not answer the military ex-
igencies of the age. Contemporaneous events have
proven that the strength of states does not con-
sist alone in the numerical value of the army, but
principally in its intellectual and moral qualities,
which only reach their highest degree of develop-
ment when the defense of the fatherland becomes
the common work of the nation; when all, without.
distinction of rank and class, unite for the accom-
plishment of this sacred task.” — In accordance
with these principles, the emperor sanctioned a
number of laws in 224 articles, the principal pro-
visions of which are as follows: The male popu-
lation, without distinction of class, shall be sub-
ject to military service. The paying of a sum of
money to escape the service, and substitution, are
hereby forbidden. The armed force of the empire
shall be composed of a standing army and a militia;
the latter shall be called into service only in ex- .
traordinary circumstances in time of war. The
standing army shall consist: 1, of the active army,
recruited by levies of men throughout all the em-
pire; 2, of the reserve, which serves to complete
the effective force of the troops, and is composed
of men sent on leave till the end of their term of
service; 3, of Cossack troops; 4, of troops formed
of foreigners. The naval army is composed of
the fleet and of its reserve; the number of men
necessary to complete the effective force of the
army and the fleet is fixed by law each year. —
Entrance into the service is determined by a draw-
ing of lots. The individuals whose numbers do
not call them into the active service are enrolled
in the militia. Each year the young men who
have attained the age of twenty years by the first
of January, are liable to service. For the marine
* Under the ministry of public instruction, Russia is di-
vided into eleven educational districts, each presided over by
a curator. The nine universities, in 1878, were attended by
6,250 students. In 1876 there were 24,456 primary schools,
with 1,019,488 pupils; in 1877 there were sixty-eight nor-
mal schools, with 4,596 pupils; while the various secondary
establishments—lyceums, gymnasiums, district schools, etc.
—had 88,400 pupils. In the budget for the year 1882, a sum
of 18,030,867 roubles was set down for public education. —
The mass of the population of Russia is as yet without
education. In 1860 only two out of every hundred recruits
levied for the army were able to read and write, but the
proportion had largely increased in 1870, when eleven out
of every hundred were found to be possessed of these ele-
ments of knowledge. In the grand duchy of Finland, which
has a system of public instruction separate from that of
the rest of the empire, education is all but universal, the
whole of the inhabitants being able at least to read, if not to
write. The empire, Finland excepted, is divided, as above.
stated, into educational districts, each of which has a number
of lyceums, at which the young men intended to fill civil
offices are mostly instructed, besides gymnasiums, high
schools and elementary schools, varying according to area.
and population. The eleven districts are those of St. Peters-
burg, Moscow, Kharkof, Kasan, Dorpat, Kief, Odessa, Wilna,
Warsaw, Caucasus and Orenburg. — F. M. -
RUSSIA.
667
the young men best fitted for that service are
chosen. In the land army the term of service is
fifteen years, six in active Service and nine in the
reserve. In the marine the term is ten years,
seven of active service, and three in the reserve.
In war time all the men remain in active service
as long as the needs of the state demand it.
The soldiers and marines can be sent into the re-
serve before their term of active service expires.
The men of the reserve are subject to the ordinary
laws, and enjoy the rights peculiar to their station.
When they are called into active service, in case
of war, their families are supported by the city or
rural corporations, in which they are domiciled.
Soldiers incapable of continuing in service and
deprived of resources, receive from the treasury
three roubles a month, or are placed in the hos-
pitals. The militia comprises the men who do not
form part of the standing army, but who are ca-
pable of bearing arms, from the age when they are
liable to be conscripted up to forty years com-
pleted.— Besides the exemptions for bodily defects
or for family reasons, reprieves are granted as fol-
lows: 1, two years, at the most, for individuals
who personally manage their landed property or
who direct the commercial or industrial establish-
ments belonging to them, excepting dealers in
strong liquors; 2, from two to seven years, to
pupils of various ecclesiastical, collegiate or artistic
establishments, divided into five classes. More-
over, the term of active service is reduced, accord-
ing to circumstances, to four years, three years,
and even to six months, and that of the reserve
to eleven years, in favor of young men who have
graduated at certain establishments of public in-
struction. Members of the Christian clergy only
are completely exempt. Young men who have
the rank of doctor of medicine or of licentiate in
the veterinary art or in pharmacy, or who are pen-
sioners of the academy of fine arts sent to a foreign
land, or who are professors in establishments of
public instruction, are enrolled at once in the
reserve for fifteen years. There are also certain
temporary exemptions in the fleet, and reductions
of service from one to two years in certain cases.—
Volunteers are received into the land army, on their
proving : 1, that they are at least seventeen years
of age; 2, that they are minors, and that their
parents or guardians have consented to their en-
listment; 3, that they have passed an examination
in the complete course of studies in an establish-
ment of public instruction, or a special examina-
tion determined by the ministers of war and of
public instruction. They serve for three months,
if they have passed the examination in an estab-
lishment of the first class; for six months, if in an
establishment of the second class; and for two
years, if they have only passed the special exam-
ination. At the expiration of these terms they are
allowed, in time of peace, if they are not officers,
to remain in the active service or to pass into the
militia, where they are kept for nine years. Wol-
unteers admitted into the guard or into the cavalry
must support themselves at their own expense; in
the other troops they are supported by the state.
In the navy the Special examination is appropriate
for that service; volunteers are held for two years'
active service and five years in the reserve. — The
annual contingent is divided among the provinces
by the minister of war; then that of each province
is divided among the subdivisions by a recruiting
board. In each district or city a committee is
Charged with drawing up the lists of names, sub-
ject to the drawing by lot, with visiting the young
men, and deciding upon their admission or exemp-
tion. The provincial assembly controls the opera-
tions, examines the complaints, and decides upon
or refers them to superior authority. — The ukase
does not apply to Cossacks and the other popula-
tion whose military obligations are determined
by special provisions. – The regular army pre-
sented, on a peace footing, Jan. 1, 1872, an effective
force of 760,000 men, of which 28,000 were offi-
cers of all ranks, and 732,000 non-commissioned
officers and soldiers, forming 82 battalions of in-
fantry and 281 squadrons of cavalry. The 732,000
non-commissioned officers and soldiers were thus
divided: infantry, 572,400; cavalry, 61,700; artil-
lery, 80,500; engineer corps, 17,400. To these
figures must be added 560,000 men on leave, who
could be called for in case of war. —The naval
forces were composed, in 1870, of 216 vessels,
of all classes, 194 of which were steamships,
and 22 sailing vessels, carrying 1,464 pieces of
ordnance. There were eight iron-clad frigates,
three bomb-protected batteries, thirteen iron-clad
batteries, five ships, twelve frigates, and fifteen
corvettes. The effective force of the military
marine was 75 admirals, vice-admirals and rear
admirals, 2,340 officers, and 20,986 marines and
sailors. There are two admiralties, one at St.
Petersburg for the fleet of the Baltic, and one at
Nicolaïef for the fleet Of the Black Sea. The
principal dock yards are in these two cities, and
at Okhta, Cronstadt, Kherson and Archangel. A
great arsenal is established at Kolpina, near St.
Petersburg.” — VII. Finances. Peter the Great,
according to historians, had, to meet all his enter-
prises, a revenue of only 5,000,000 roubles, with
tributes in kind, and the expenses were propor-
tioned to the receipts. Both increased after his
reign, but the expenses chiefly. Catherine II., hav-
ing exhausted all other expedients, had recourse
to a paper currency, which, in 1817, amounted
to 210,000,000 roubles. To reduce it, recourse
was had to internal loans; then, this recourse not
being sufficient, in 1820, foreign loans were nego-
* The following was the composition of the regular Rus-
sian army In 1882:

Peace Wal-
Footing. Footing.
Battalions ------------------------ 1,045 1,766.
Squadrons ------------------------ 404 412.
Guns ----------------------------- 1,562 3,772
Horses---------------------------- 94,789 258,056
The nominal strength of the various divisions of the Russian
668
RUSSIA,
tiated. In 1847, the debt bearing interest reached
the sum of 315,000,000, with 184,000,000 of paper
money in circulation; and in 1860, in consequence
of the increase in the military expenses and the
construction of the first railways, the amount of
the debt was more than doubled. But the em-
army, according to the returns of the ministry of war, was
as follows in 1882 :
P W
ARMS. Fº. Foºting.
1. Regular army:
Infantry -------------------------- 625,617 1,915,709
Cavalry--------------------------- 85,860 94,466
Artillery -------------------------- 108,610 210,772
Engineers------------------------- 20,624 43,352
Total ------------------------- 840,711 2,264,293
2. Irregular army:
Infantry -------------------------- 6,500 8,510
Cavalry--------------------------- 34,196 142,400
Artillery-------------------------- 2,912 12,650
Total ------------------------- 43,608 163,560
General total.------------------ 884,319 2,427,853
peror brought about improvements in the man-
agement of the finances; he wished to have a
regular budget, and for the first time that of 1863
was given to the public. This was, according to
L. Faucher's expression, a veritable revolution.
According to the financial accounts, the ordinary
receipts in the years 1864 and 1871, in roubles,
were as follows :

ITEMS. 1864. 1871.
Direct taxes------------------------ 35,760,000 | 94,470,000
Licenses --------------------------- 9,630,000 22,230,000
Indirect taxes :
Liquors---------------------------- 127,800,000 || 149,780,000
Salt ------------------------------- ,830,000 || 12,680,000
Tobacco --------------------------- 4,010,000 8,390,000
Beet-root Sugar -------------------- 580,000 3,480,0
Customs--------------------------- 35,670,000 || 47,320,000
Stamps ------------ z---------------| 5,490,000 7,590,000
Registration ----------------------- 2,530,000 5,170,000
Passports, maritime duties and tolls 5,280,000 6,110,000
Regalian rights:
Mines------------------------------ 2,500,000 3,720,000
Coinage.--------------------------- 2,500,000 4,060,000
PostOffice-------------------------- 7,700,000 9,700,000
Telegraphs ------------------------ 1,960,000 3,980,000
Domains of the state--------------- 53,230,000 || 35,010,000
Miscellaneous receipts ------------- 38,250,000 || 54,060,000
IRevenue of Transcaucasus----- - - - - 3,450,000 5,240,000
To this has to be added the staff, gendarmerie, militia (raised
only in time of war), etc., which would raise the war forces
to a total of 2,733,305 men. — By the law of Dec. 18, 1878,
which came into force Jan. 1, 1881, personal military Service is
declared obligatory in Finland. The Finnish troops form nine
battalions of riflemen, each with eighteen officers and 505
men, and number in all 4,833. — Among the irregular troops
of Russia the most important are the Cossacks. The country
of the Don Cossacks contains from 600,000 to 700,000 inhab-
itants. By imperial decree, dated April 29, 1875, every Cos-
sack of the Don, from fifteen to sixty years of age, is bound
to render military service. No substitution is allowed, mor
payment of money in lieu of service. Exemption from mil-
itary service is granted, however, at all times, to the Chris-
tian clergy, and, in times of peace, to physicians and veter-
inary surgeons, apothecaries, and teachers in public schools.
"The regular military force consists of fifty-four cavalry regi-
ments, each numbering 1,044 men, making a total of 56,876.
The number of Cossacks is computed as follows:
In Milit,
COSSACKS. Heads. sºy
On the Black Sea------------------ 125,000 18,000
Great Russian Cossacks on the Cau-
casian line---------------------- 150,000 18,000
Don Cossacks-------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 440,000 66,000
Ural Cossacks--------------------- 50,000 8,000
Orenburg Cossacks --------------- º 10,000
Siberian COSSacks ---------------- 50,000 9,000
Total.------------------------- 875,000 129,000
The military organization of the Cossacks is in eight districts,
&alled woźsskos. Each woissko furnishes a certain number
of regiments, fully armed and equipped, and undergoing con-
stant military exercise, so as to be prepared to enter the field,
on being summoned, in the course of ten days. The two
larger districts are the woissko of Kuban, which has the
privilege of furnishing a squadron of picked men for an im-
perial escort in time of war, and the second the woissko of
Terak, which furnishes a like escort in time of peace. — The
Cossacks are a race of free men; neither Serfage nor any
other dependence upon the land has existed among them.
The entire territory belongs to the Cossack commune, and
every individual has an equal right to the use of the land,
together with the pastures, hunting grounds and fisheries.
The Cossacks pay no taxes to the government, but, in lieu of
The only diminution is in connection with the
domains of the state, and is a result of the eman-
this, they are bound to perform military service. They are
divided into three classes: viz., 1, the minors, or malolet-
Tiye, up to their sixteenth year ; 2, those on actual serv-
ice, the Sluzhìlèye, for a period of twenty-five years, there-
fore until their forty-second year ; 3, those released from
service, the otstavniye, who remain for five years, or until
their forty-seventh year, in the reserve, after which period
they are regarded as wholly released from service and in-
valided. Every Cossack is obliged to equip, clothe and
arm himself at his own expense, and to keep his horse.
While on service beyond the frontiers of his own country,
he receives rations of food and provender, and a small
amount of pay. The artillery and train are at the charge of
the government. Instead of imposing taxes on the Don
Cossacks, the Russian government pays them an annual
tribute, varying in peace and war, together with grants to
be distributed among the widows and orphans of those who
have fallen in battle. Besides the regular Cossacks, there
are, on the Orenburg and Siberian lines, the Bashkir Cos-
sacks, numbering some 200,000 men. — The Russian navy
(1883) consists of two great divisions, the fleet of the Baltic,
and that of the Black sea. Each of these two fleets is again
subdivided into sections, of which three are in or near the
Baltic, and two in or near the Black sea. The divisions, like
the English, carry the white, blue and red flag, an arrange-
ment originating with the Dutch, but without the rank of the
admirals being connected with the color of the flag. — At the
end of the year 1880 the strength of the various divisions of
the Russian navy was returned officially as follows: 1, the
Baltic fleet, consisting of one hundred and thirty-seven men-
of-war, comprising twenty-seven armor-clad ships, forty-
four unarmored steamers, and sixty-six transports; 2, the
Black sea fleet, consisting of thirty-one men-of-war, com-
prising three armor-clad ships, twenty-five unarmored steam-
ers, and three transports; 3, the Caspian Sea fleet, consisting
of eleven unarmored steamers and eight transports; 4, the
Siberian fleet, consisting of fifteen unarmored steamers and
twenty-one transports. The total comprises 223 men-of-
war, all steamers, armed with 561 guns, with engines aggre-
gating 188,120 horse power. — The iron-clad fleet of war of
Russia, comprising thirty ships, twenty-eight in the Baltic
and two in the Black sea, was made up, at the end of 1880, of
the following classes of ships : 1st class, three mastless tur-
ret ships, 12 and 14 inch armor thickness; 2d class, nine sea-

RUSSIA.
669
cipation of the peasants. If the expenses of col-
lection and the anticipated deficit in receipts are
deducted, viz., 42,000,000 for 1864 and 52,000,000
for 1871, we find, for the first of these years, a
total of 304,246,000, and for the second a total of
487,966,000. But as the budget of Poland has been
joined to that of the empire, 30,000,000 must be
added to the first of the two totals, and by add-
ing them we find an increase in the receipts, of
153,720,000 roubles, without any increase in taxes
except upon liquors. The following table shows
the ordinary expenditure for the years named, in
roubles :
ITEMS. 1864. 1871.
Public debt------------------------ 59,630,000 | 85,060,000
Grand body or corps of the state----| 1,200,000 2,450,000
9]ergy.----------------------------- 5,340,000 9,220,000
Imperial household.---------------- 7,750,000 || 10,900,000
Foreign affairs--------------------- 2,090,000 2,470,000
War ------------------------------- 119,950,000 | 159,250,000
Navy ------------------------------ 21,680,000 || 21,140,000
Domains of the empire.------------- 9,120,000 9,630,000
Interior---------------------------- 23,490,000 || 42,460,000
Public instruction.------- - - - - - - - - - - - 6,240,0 10,810,000
Means of communication----------- 25,160,000 || 34,020,000
Justice----------------------------- 6,480,000 || 10,700,000
General control of the empire.------ 320,000 1,910,000
The stud--------------------------- 590,000 640,000
Expenses of Poland----------------|-------- --| 1,310,000
Administration of the Caucasus----| 3,610,000 6,600,000
Deducting the expenses of Poland, we have for
1864 a total of 351,346,000 roubles, and for 1871
a total of 498,422,000 roubles, consequently an in-
crease which is not the result alone of the increase
in the debt and the military expenses, but also of
the improvements made in the different services.—
The expenditure of 1864, compared with the re-
ceipts, presents a deficit of 47,000,000; in 1871 we
find 10,000,000 deficit, but we shall see, further on,
that the debt had increased. — The expenses con-
nected with the construction of railways and of
Certain ports, are paid separately from a special
fund raised by means of loans. The budget of
1874 was thus fixed: receipts from all sources,
539,851,656 roubles; expenses, 536,683,836 roubles.
—The debt is divided into the public debt prop-
erly speaking, or consolidated debt, the floating
debt, and the paper currency. The consolidated
debt is composed of loans effected at different
periods since 1798, at different rates and under
different forms, some domestic and some foreign;
Some to be liquidated or redeemable at a fixed
time, others at no determinate period; lastly, some
to reduce the paper currency, others to cover the
deficits, and others to pay the expense of the con-
going cruisers, 4 to 6 inch armor; 3d class, sixteen vessels for
Coast defense, 4 to 4% inch armor; 4th class, two circular
monitors, 11 and 18 inch armor. — The imperial navy was |
commanded, in 1880, by 17 admirals, 32 vice-admirals, 31 rear
admirals, 201 first-class captains, 98 second-class captains, 303
Captain lieutenants, 443 lieutenants, and 129 midshipmen of
the Special corps attached to the navy. The navigation de-
tachment contained, at the same date, five generals and 508
staff officers; the naval artillery, four generals and 197 staff
officers; and the naval engineers, six generals and 139 staff
officers.—F. M.
struction of railways or of advances for the re-
demption of serfs. In 1863, this debt amounted
to 759,000,000 roubles, and, Jan. 1, 1872, to
966,000,000. It had, therefore, increased 207,-
000,000. Moreover, the debt of Poland having
been charged to the treasury, in 1869, and this
debt amounting to 92,000,000 in 1872, the debt of
Russia was therefore increased to 1,058,000,000.
The floating debt is composed of treasury bonds,
of fifty roubles each. It amounted, in 1863, to
189,000,000 roubles; from 1866 to 1872 it remained
fixed at 216,000,000. The paper currency con-
sists of credit notes put into forced circulation by
the bank of Russia. They do not bear interest,
and are not guaranteed by a metallic reservé, like
the other credit notes issued by the same bank for
its own operations. In 1863, after 118,000,000 rou-
bles had been retired from circulation or burned,
there remained 643,000,000. In 1872 there were
724,000,000, and adding the notes issued to replace
those of the former institutions of credit to which
the bank of Russia succeeded in 1860, the circu-
lation amounted to 959,000,000. As to the debt
arising from the redemption of the serfs, the
advances made by the treasury amounted, from
1861 to Jan. 1, 1871, to the sum of 559,931,289
roubles, out of which 251,500,000 were retained
for the mortgage debts of the former own-
ers.” — VIII. Means of Communication. When
Peter the Great tried to remedy the enormous
greatness of the distances which separated and
still separate the groups of habitations, it was by
means of interior waters, seas, lakes, streams and
rivers that he undertook to create means of com-
munication. He commenced the junction of the
Volga with the basin of the Neva and that of the
Dwina of the north, by a system of navigation
which was continued by his successors; and is
* The public revenue of the empire is derived to the extent
of two-thirds from direct and indirect taxes, while nearly
two-thirds of the total expenditure is for the army and navy,
and interest on the public debt. There are annual budget
estimates published by the government, and also, since 1866,
accounts of the actual receipts and disbursements of the
state, which, entering into minute details, can not be issued
till after the lapse of a number of years. — The following
table gives the total actual revenue and expenditure of the
imperial government, in roubles, for each of the years 1875–
81 :

} YEARS. Revenue. Expenditure.
1875---------------------------- 532,306,209 529,050,426
1876---------------------------- 534,791,290 534,705,120
1877---------------------------- 537,784,596 537,776,074
1878---------------------------- 625,972,735 600,510,612
1879---------------------------- 661,954,192 || 641,924,957
1880---------------------------- 651,016,683 |, 694,505,313
1881---------------------------- 651,754,009 762,393,837
The expenditure 1876–81 is exclusive of the large expensesin-
curred during the war with Turkey, which in 1876 amounted
to about 51,000,000 roubles, in 1877 to over 429,000,000, in
1878 to 408,000,000, in 1879 to 128,000,000, and in 1880 to about
59,000,000. It should also be remembered, that, during the
last five years, the actual value of the rouble has only been
about two English shillings. – The following table shows the
principal sources of revenue and the chief branches of ex-
670
RUSSIA.
composed to-day of three branches, measuring,
altogether, 3,460 kilometres, 553 of which are of
canal. This system unites the Caspian sea with
the Baltic and the White sea. In the west the
Baltic is placed in communication with the Black
sea by three lines of navigation, composed, one
penditure of the government in roubles, according to the
budget estimates for 1882 :
Sources of Revenue.
1. Ordinary revenue :
Tirect taxes------------------------------------- 128,291,700
Indirect taxes---------------------------------- 390,687,940
Mint, mines, post and telegraphs ---------------- 26,183,328
State domains.---------------------------------- 42,562,237
Miscellaneous receipts--- ----------------------- 49,158,117
Revenue of Transcaucasia----------------------- 9,834,548
Total ordinary revenue.--------------------- 656,717,870
2. “Recettes d'ordre”------------------------ 22,165,068
3. Extraordinary receipts -------------------- 83,121.574
Total revenue ------------------------------- 762,004,512
Branches of Ea:pendźture.
1. Ordinary expenditure : S
Interest and sinking fund of the national debt--- 191,776,287
Imperial chancery------------------------------- ,650,230
Holy Synod ------------------------------------- 10,300,800
Ministry of the imperial house------------------- 8,954,000
Ministry of foreign affairs ----------------------- 3,686,185
|Ministry of War --------------------------------- 183,489,042
Ministry of the navy------------------------...---- 27,507,721
Ministry of finance------------------------------ 78,430,477
Ministry of the imperial domains------ .* * * * * * * * * * 19,244,882
TMinistry of the interior-------------------------- 65,120,548
Ministry of public instruction ------ • * * * * - - - - - - tº º ºs 18,030,867
Ministry of public works and railways---------.. 16,072,905
Ministry of justice -------------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 14,780,362
Department of general control ------------------ 2,367,225
Civil administration of the Transcaucasus------- 7,252,291
Various ----------------------------------------- 931,329
Total Ordinary expenditure------------------ 658,595,151
2. Anticipated deficits in receipts------------- 8,500,000
3. “Dépenses d'ordre”----------------------- 22,165,068
4. Extraordinary expenses ------------------- 72,744,293
Total expenditure --------------------------- 762,004,512
It is expected that the actual revenue will show a deſicit. Uſ
4,500,000 roubles. The hndget estimates for 1883 balance the
revenue and expenditure at 778,505,423 roubles, or £111,215,-
060. — In the budget estimates for the year 1882, the total
amount, in roubles, required for interest on the public debt
and sinking fund, was divided as follows:
Foreign loans:
Terminable-------------------------------------- 23,481,601
Perpetual --------------------------------------- 23,486,172
Internal terminable loans :
Debt to Sundry departments.--------------------- 125,837
4 per cent. bank bills (metallic)------------------ 4,500,000
5 per cent, bank.bills ---------------------------- 13,450,000
First and Second lottery loans------------------- 13,285,000
T'irst and Second Oriental loans --------...--------- 44,000,000
Treasury bills ----------------------------------- 9,331,200
Polish obligations------------------------------- 1,890,000
Debt on Polish “Feuilles de liquidation"------- 3,184,123
Internal perpetual loans -------------, ---------. 10,117,646
Interest and sinking fund on consolidated bills
issued for construction of railways, etc.---. -- ... 51,924.708
Total -------------------------------------. 198,776,287
—The finances of Russia, almost since the beginning of the
Century, exhibit large annual deficits, caused partly by an
enormous expenditure for war, and partly by the construction
of reproductive works, such as railways. But the war ex-
penditure was by far the greatest cause of the deficits. – Ac-
cording to official returns, issued in 1881, the total war outlay
incurred by Russia during the four years 1876 to 1880, amount-
ed to 1,075,396,653 roubles, or £153,628,093. — To cover a
series of annual deficits, and, at the same time, to procure
the capital for the construction of a net-work of railways
throughout the empire, a number of foreign loans were
raised during the thirty-two years from 1850 to 1882. The
of the western Dwina, and the canals of the Be-
resina and the Dnieper; the second of the Chara,
a tributary of the Niemen, and of the Pripet, a
tributary of the Dnieper; the third, of the Vistula,
the Boug and the Pripet. The south does not fare
So well, the Caspian Sea has no direct communi-
most important of them were, first, a loan of £5,500,000, is-
sued in 1850, to meet the expenditure for the railway from
St. Petersburg to Moscow; sceondly, a loan of £12,000,000,
issued in 1859; thirdly, a loan of £8,000,000, issued in 1860;
and fourthly, a loan of £15,000,000, issued in 1862, the latter
three contracted partly for the covering of financial deficits
and partly for the construction of railways. The subsequent
foreign loans were: one for £2,600,000, issued in 1863, and
two for £6,000,000 each, issued respectively in 1864 and 1866.
The next was a foreign loan of £15,000,000, brought out in
September, 1872, and the second raised in December, 1873.
The following table gives the year of issue, nominal capital,
interest per cent., and price of issue, of the foreign loans of
Russia, fifteen in number—including early liabilities dating
back to 1822—contracted up to 1882:

YEAR OF ISSUE, Nominal Capital. Interest. *.*
.g Per Cent. Pr. Cent.
1882 -------------- 6,400,000. 5 77
1850 -------------- 5,500,000 4}. 93
1859 -------------- 12,000,000 3 68
1860 -------------- 8,000,000 4}. 92
1862 -------------- 15,000,000 5 94
1863------------- 2,600,000 5 85
1864 -------------- 6,000,000 5 86
1866 -------------- 6,000,000 4 61
1867-9------------ 23,110,000 4 61-3
1870-------------- 12,000,000 5 80
1871 -------------. 12,000,000 5 81
1879 -------------- 15,000,000 5 89}.
1873-------------- 15,000,000 5 !.0
1874-------------- 1,480 000 5} 7%
1875 -------------- 15,000.000 5} 874
1877 -------------- 15,000.000 5% 85
1880 -------------- 24,000,000 4 75
1889 -------------- 8,900,000 3 55
Total - --- 203,990,000 |------------|--------
Not included in the above list are several loans for railways,
guaranteed by the imperial government. The earlier of the
foreign loans of Russia have become largely reduced at pres-
ent, through the operation of sinking funds. Of the 1822
loan, issued by Messrs. Rothschild, more than one-half had
been repaid at the end of 1875; of the 1850 loan, contracted
for by Baring Brothers, the outstanding sum was £2,950,000;
of the 1859 loan, issued by Thomson, Bomar & Co., the
amount was £5,100,000; and of the 1860 loan, issued by Ba-
ring Brothers, it was £6,600,000 at the same date. But the
repayments of the subsequent loans, through sinking funds,
were comparatively small.—The entire public debt cf Russia,
interior and foreign, was estimated to amount to 2,450,000,000
roubles, or £350,000,000, on Sept. 1, 1878, the total including
an internal loan of 210,000,000 roubles, or £30,000,000, issucd.
in 1877, soon after the commencement of the war against
Turkey, and another internal loan, called “the second east-
ern loan.” to the amount of 300,000,000 roubles, or £42,857,142,
issued in August, 1878. On Jan. 1, 1880, the total debt had
increased to 4,480,812,699 roubles, or £640,116,099. – Included
in the debt here enumerated is a very large quantity of paper
money, with forced currency. According to official reports,
the total amount of bank notes in circulation on Jan. 1, 1876,
was 797,313,480 roubles, or £113,901,925. There were new is-
sues of paper money to a very large amount during the years
1876–9. The total debt represented by paper money of forced
currency, was estimated at 1,500,000,000 roubles, or upward
of £210,000,000, in January, 1880. — The destruction of public
credit, through an unlimited issue of paper money, is, as re-
marked above, of old standing. In the reign of Catherine
II., the first attempt, on a large scale, was made to cover the
annual deficits by a very liberal supply of paper roubles, the
sum total of which at the death of the empress, 1796, amounted
RUSSIA.
671
cation with the Black séa, and the basin of the
sea of Azof is entirely isolated. There are in all
30,337 kilometres of natural navigable lines, con-
nected by 1,381 kilometres of canals. There are
navigation and steam-towage companies upon the
Volga, the Neva, the Dnieper and the Vistula. But
the rivers are only open usually six months in the
year in the north, and eight to nine months in the
south, and the cold closes the canals even longer.
The transports are subject to a tax of a quarter of
1 per cent. of the value declared; this tax is ap-
plied to the maintenance of navigation works.
According to the official Vremennik of 1866, the
quantities of merchandise carried by water in that
year were :
Poods.
Basin of the Volga------------------------------ 170,258,765
Basin of the Neva------------------------------- 145,750,265
Basin of the Dnieper---------------------------- 20,354,041
Basin of the Duna ------------------------------ 8,257,734
Basin of the Dwina----------------------------- 6,952,839
Basin of the Niemen---------------------------- 3,748,440
Total.--------------------------------------- 355,322,084
– Highways. The roads practicable in all seasons
date only from 1816. They were in 1867, in Rus-
sia in Europe, only 8,416 kilometres in length.
The post roads had, in 1874, an extent of 94,000
kilometres. Transportation is possible on wheels
during four months of the summer, and on run-
ners over the Snow during four months of the
winter. There are not more than 200 days in the
year when communication is easy; but in propor-
tion as the roads are insufficient, horses, cattle and
fodder are procurable at a small price, so that grain
and the products of the mines are carried consid-
erable distances for a less price than that of trans-
portation in more favored climates. The principal
Thighways are those from St. Petersburg to the Chi-
nese frontier, by way of Irkoutsk (6,616 kilome-
tres), from St. Petersburg to the Prussian frontier,
via Warsaw (1,173 kilometres) and via Tilsit (816
kilometres), and from St. Petersburg to Abo (613
kilometres).-- Railways. The first was that from
St. Petersburg to Tsarskoč-Sélo, which is only
to 200,000,000. During the subsequent wars with France and
Turkey, new emissions of paper followed, with the conse-
quence that in 1815 the notes had fallen to 418, that is, one
silver rouble was worth four roubles eighteen kopecks in pa-
per. Great efforts were now made by the government to
... improve this state of things, by withdrawing a portion of the
paper from circulation. After ten years of improved finan-
'cial management, there remained, however, still 600,000,000
of notes, circulating at the rate cf three paper roubles to one
'silver rouble. As a final remedy, the imperial government
withdrew, in 1843, the whole of the old paper money, intro-
ducing, in is stead, a new form cf bank notes, with forced
currency. By these and other means, particularly the estab-
lishment, in 1859, of a state bank, the bank of Russia, under
the control of the minister of finance, the nominal value of
the paper money was considerably raised, with a prospect of
the resumption of specie payments in the course of a num-
ber of years. — The grand duchy of Finland had a reve-
nue of 32,320,714 marcs, or £1,292,828, and an expenditure of
35,131,146 marcs, or £1,405,245, in 1882. Its total debt on
Jan. 1, 1882, amounted to 61,422,865 marcs, or £2,456,914. In
December, 1882, Finland contracted an additional loan of
.#810,000 at 4 per cent., for forty-two years. The special
budgets of Poland ceased in 1867, on the final incorporation
of the kingdom with Russia. — F. M.
twenty-six kilometres long; it was built by the state
and finished in 1835. The state commenced in 1842
the railroad from St. Petersburg to Moscow, 643
kilometres long, and opened it in 1851. Since 1856,
the undertakings of new lines have been granted
to private individuals, and in 1858 the state gave up
the management of those under its control. The
railroads in running order Jan. 1, 1872, represent-
ed a total length of 14,003 kilometres; the lines in
course of construction had 1,454 kilometres. (See
note at the end of IX.)—IX. Resources.—Agricul-
ture. Russia, from the agricultural point of view,
has one hundred and seventy-five millions of hec-
tares in arable lands and meadows, One hundred
and eighty-eight millions in forests, fifty-seven
millions in steppes which can be utilized as pas-
turage, and eighty millions in non-productive
lands. Of the first one hundred and seventy-five
millions, ninety-eight, situated between the fifty-
first and fifty-fourth degrees of latitude to the
west, and between the fifty-seventh and fifty-fourth
to the east, constitute the region called the region
of the black earth, and which is especially pro-
ductive. In Finland the extent devoted to rural
economy is estimated at thirty-one millions of
hectares, and in Poland at ten and a half millions.
— The progress of agriculture is trammeled by
various unfavorable circumstances: the lack of
capital, the lack of hands, absenteeism, and, above
all, communism applied to the lands. Labor, be-
sides, because of the climate, is suspended during
seven months of the year, and extremely hurried
during four others; which greatly restricts culti-
vation. Serfdom has disappeared, but ignorance
and carelessness continue. A very great number
of proprietors, whose property was weighed down
with mortgages, found themselves greatly impov-
erished when the corvées failed them. The labor-
ers, whom it was necessary to employ and pay,
have shown, it is said, in general, little zeal and
even little good faith in the execution of their
engagements. Moreover, they did not have the
knowledge which less rude methods demanded.
Some proprietors have tried to farm out their
lands, but good farmers are only found in the
southwest. The proprietors are contented, under
these circumstances, with small rents on long
leases, and the rent is double for leases by the
year. In a great part of the empire the proprie-
tors have been compelled to divide up their estates
and lease them by the year in small lots; culti-
vation has not been improved thereby. Another
system consists in having the work done by con-
tract with the implements of the cultivator; some-
times the seeds are furnished by the proprietor,
sometimes by the cultivator, and the latter is paid
either in money, or by the grant of a piece of land.
Finally, in the south the metayer system exists.-
Live-stock does not receive the care necessary to
insure its increase and improvement. Little atten-
tion is paid to the development of artificial prai-
ries. Manure is not much used, and the low price
of meat on the premises does not encourage pro-
duction. Hence cattle, in the twenty years from
672
RUSSIA.
1851 to 1871, increased only by 640,090 head, of
ordinary quality The increase is larger among
sheep and hogs; but horses have diminished from
16,155,000 to 15,540,000. — Two-thirds of the for-
ests belong to the crown. Those belonging to in-
dividuals had already suffered much by bad man-
agement, when the emancipation of the serfs ne-
cessitated considerable clearing. A great number
of proprietors were forced to sell wood to procure
the means they needed; taxes, besides, are often
very heavy in comparison with the revenue, and
it is difficult to prevent theft and incendiarism.
The consumption of wood is enormous; the an-
nual exploitation of it is estimated at 135,000,000
roubles.—Industry, For the seven or eight months
during which work in the field is suspended, the
peasants carry on various industries in their vil-
lages; such as, weaving of cloth, oil pressing,
wood work, the manufacture of tar, turpentine
and potash, the making of mats, drying and Salting
of fish, preparation of glue and caviar, tanning,
horse-hair work, charcoal burning, basket work,
working of quarries, and the manufacture of
woolen stuffs. The sheep-skin pelisses give occu-
pation to entire villages. In one place, furniture is
made; in another, pictures are painted; in a third,
boots and shoes are manufactured. Some families
do filigree work; thousands of hands make lace.
One village is devoted to iron foundries; another
to locksmiths’ work or cutlery. There are turn-
ers, fullers, and boat and raft makers. — The gold
mines have been worked since 1814. The prod-
uct amounted to 22,000 kilogrammes in 1841,
and since then it has varied from 23,000 to 24,000
kilogrammes. The iron mines are abundant; but
the working of them is difficult, because of their
distance from inhabited places and the lack of
means of communication. The yield of the cop-
per mines is estimated at 51,000 metric quintals.
There are four coal basins in course of exploita-
tion; the product has considerably increased of late;
it amounted, in 1871, to 830,000 tons. The salt
mines, the salt marshes and the salt works give
4,637,000 metric quintals. Many of the provinces,
because of the distances, are obliged to procure
their provisions from abroad. There are numer.
ous naphtha and petroleum wells, whose prod-
uct (1874) is 100,000 metric quintals. – Of all the
industries, the most lucrative is that of spirits;
the manufacture is estimated at 300,000,000 rou-
bles. According to an abstract prepared in 1863,
the consumption in Russia in Europe was then
more than 107,000,000 hectolitres, and it has in-
creased since that time. — The manufacture of
beet-root sugar has diminished; the number of
sugar factories was 427 in 1860, but fell, in 1872,
to 233. Honey is preferred in consumption, hence
apiculture has greatly increased. — The cotton
factories had, in 1867, 1,600,000 spindles, a great
number of which were worked day and night.
They used 46,000,000 kilogrammes of cotton, and
spun only to No. 50. The weaving employs 12,000
looms, run by machinery, and seven or eight times
as many run by hand. Red and blue calicoes of
good quality are manufactured. The spinning
and weaving of flax and hemp are not sufficient
for the consumption, especially of the upper
classes. At Moscow are manufactured rich silk
stuffs, worked and embroidered with gold and
silver, for priests’ vestments. The white embroider-
ies of the Caucasus are highly praised. Tanning
remains backward, but Morocco leather manufact-
ure is renowned. Nijni-Novgorod manufactures
beautiful cutlery of excellent steel from the mines
of the Oural. The jewelry and gold and silver
work are of the best, both in design and execu-
tion. — Commerce. The domestic commerce of
Russia is five or six times greater than its foreign
commerce. The two principal commercial seats
are Moscow and Warsaw. After these two cities
come those in which fairs are held, notably Nijni-
Novgorod, the principal one, in which the mer-
chandise sold amounted to 128,000,000 roubles.
M. Schnitzler estimates the whole of the domes-
tic commerce at 6,000,000,000 francs. The mer-
chants are divided into three classes: 1, the mem-
bers of the three guilds; 2, the persons engaged in
industry with certificates or licenses; 3, the trades-
men of the villages. The members of the first
guild must have a capital of 15,000 roubles at
least; the declaration which they make as to the
amount of their capital serves as a basis for the
credit which the banks open to them. They can
carry on wholesale commerce, banking, insurance
business, and equip merchant vessels. The same
rights are conferred upon the members of the sec-
ond guild, except that they can not obtain from
abroad merchandise worth more than 90,000 rou-
bles, nor carry on banking or insurance business.
Their capital must be at least 6,000 roubles. Those
of the third guild must have a capital of 2,400
roubles at least ; they can carry on retail Com-
merce, keep inns, and have transport boats and
weaving looms. Failure, with aggravating cir-
cumstances, involves expulsion. The total of the
members of the three guilds was 200,760 in 1874,
and their capital was estimated at 2,400,000,000
francs. – The certificates or licenses issued annu-
ally, to the number of about 190,000, give those
who obtain them the right to carry on Small in-
dustries or commerce on a very small scale. In
the villages the peasants may, without paying any
tax, sell objects of customary consumption. –
The following is the amount of the commercial
movement in the years mentioned, in roubles :

YEARS Imports. Exports. Total.
1869 ------------- 339,860,000 270,690,000 610,550,000
1870------------- 332,330,000 375,110,000 707,440,000
1871 ------------- 367,920,000 379,330,000 747,250,000
Russia in Asia is included in these results for a to-
tal movement of 28,880,000 roubles in 1870, and of
24,830,000 in 1871. – Considering the movement
of precious metals, since 1861, by itself, we find, at
that time, an importation of seven millions, which
fell off gradually to two in 1866, rose to thirty-
SALARY GRAB.
673
three millions in 1867, and to thirty-nine in 1868;
then diminished again to two millions in 1869 and
1870, and rose to seven in 1871. The exportation,
which was fifteen millions in 1861, rose to thirty-
seven in 1862 and to sixty-seven in 1863; then it
fell to fourteen in 1867, and to five in 1868, to rise
again to fifteen in 1869 and to seventeen in 1871.
— The maritime commerce is about two-thirds
Of the land commerce. From 1863 to 1867 it
amounted, without Finland, to an average of
266,000,000 roubles in Europe, and to 11,000,000
in Asia. There were, in 1869, 2,532 sailing ves-
sels and 114 steamships; 753 sea-going ships and
1,893 coasting vessels, — The principal article of
exportation consists of cereals. This trade com-
menced to be developed in 1817; it is subject to
great fluctuations; sometimes grain forms 30 per
cent. of the total exports, and sometimes only 6
per cent. In 1839 the greatest quantity was
exported ; it represented 332,000,000 roubles.
The ten years previous to 1867 gave an aver-
age of 58,000,000. In 1870 the exportation was
163,000,000, and 183,000,000 in 1871. Next
comes flax, 49,000,000 roubles in 1871; linseed,
28,000,000; wool, 7,000,000; tallow, which de-
creased from 12,000,000 before 1867 to 4,600,000
in 1871; wood, which increased from 6,500,000
before 1867, to 14,000,000 in 1871; hemp, 12,000,-
000; hogs' bristles, 9,000,000; hides, 2,000,000; live
SAINTsmosism. (See SocIALISM.)
SALARY GRAB (IN U. S. HISTORY), the pop-
ular name for the general increase of federal Sal-
aries in 1873. — The constitution provides that
“the senators and representatives shall receive a
compensation for their services, to be ascertained
by law, and paid out of the treasury of the United
States”; that the president “shall, at stated times,
receive for his services a compensation, which
shall neither be increased nor diminished during
the period for which he shall have been elected,
and he shall not receive within that period any
other emolument from the United States, or any
of them”; and that the judges of all federal courts
“shall, at stated times, receive for their Services
a compensation, which shall not be diminished
during their continuance in office.” The act of
March 3, 1873, provided that, on and after March
4, 1873 (the beginning of President Grant's second
term), the salary of the president should be $50,000
a year, of the chief justice $10,500, of the vice-
president, cabinet officers, associate justices, and
speaker of the house, $10,000, and of Senators,
representatives and delegates in congress, $7,500;
and that the salaries of employés of both houses
should be increased in various proportions. The
salaries named had previously been as follows:
president, $25,000; chief justice, $8,500; other |
162 VOL. III. — 43
stock, 6,000,000; unmanufactured metals, 1,800,-
000 in 1870 and 1,200,000 in 1871; oleaginous
seeds, 3,400,000. — The principal article of im-
portation is raw cotton. Before 1867 the average
of ten years was 18,000,000 roubles; in 1870, 31,-
000,000 was imported, and in 1871, 48,000,000.
Unmanufactured metals also increased from 4,500,-
000 roubles before 1867, to 17,000,000 in 1868, 30,-
000,000 in 1870, and 31,000,000 in 1871. Machin-
ery, from an average of 8,000,000 before 1868,
rose to 25,000,000 in 1870. An increase has also
taken place in the following: metal works, 18,-
000,000 in 1871; tea, 20,000,000; paints, 16,000,000;
oils, 12,000,000; wines and liquors, 11,000,000,
(three-fourths coming from France); wool, 13,-
000,000; woolen fabrics, 10,000,000; fruits, 8,-
000,000; spun cotton, 8,000,000; coffee, chemical
products, plants and seeds, 5,000,000; silk textile
fabrics, 5,000,000; fish, 4,000,000. — The different
countries participated (1874) in the foreign com-
merce of Russia in the following proportions:
Great Britain, 160,000,000 roubles in 1866, 269,-
000,000 in 1871; Prussia, 98,000,000 in 1866, 203,-
000,000 in 1871; France, 46,000,000 in 1871; Aus-
tria, 30,000,000; Hanseatic cities, 22,000,000; Tur-
key, 21,000,000; The Netherlands, 20,000,000;
Italy, 18,000,000; the United States, 17,000,000;
Belgium, 14,000,000; China, 10,000,000.* (See
NIHILISM, ORIENTAL QUESTION.) L. SMITH.
S
officers, $8,000; and senators, representatives and
delegates, $5,000. Although the act was in other
respects to go into force “on and after March 4,
1873,” the members of the congress which passed
it were to be included in the increased salary, SO
that the act, as to them, was retroactive for the
* The commerce of Russia with foreign countries is offi-
cially divided into trade with Europe, and trade with Asia:
the former being subdivided into trade through the Baltic
ports, through the White sea ports, through the southern
ports, and over the European land frontier. The immense
extent of the empire, and its ever-changing limits eastward,
make it difficult to obtain exact returns of the aggregate
amount of its foreign commerce, which must be partly esti-
mated. According to official statements, the total value of
imports in the five years 1876–80 averaged, in round numbers,
455,000,000 roubles, or £65,000,000, while the value of the ex-
ports during the same period averaged 476,000,000 roubles, or
368,000,000 per annum. The four principal articles of im-
port during the period were raw cotton, iron and other un-
wrought metals, tea, and machinery of all kinds, while the
staple articles of export were grain and other agricultural
produce. —The two principal countries trading with Russia
(1883) are Great Britain and Germany. Of the imports, about.
40 per cent. annually came from Germany, and 20 per cent.
from Great Britain; and of the exports 35 per cent. Went to
Great Britain, and 20 per cent. to Germany, on the average of
the five years 1876–80. —The commercial navy of Russia con-
sisted, at the end of the year 1879, of 2,568 sea-going vessels,
of an aggregate burden of 261,231 ship last, or 522,462 tons."
The total comprised 925 ships engaged in trading to foreign
countries, and 1,780 coasting vessels, many of them belong-
ing to Greeks, sailing under the Russian flag. Not included.
in the return were 389trading steamers on the rivers and lakes.
674
SALARY GRAB.
two years just closing. This was the essence of
the “salary grab,” which excited so much popular
indignation that many of themembers were moved
to repay their increase to the treasury. The act
was repealed, as to all except the president and the
justices, by act of Jan. 20, 1874, and salaries re-
verted to the former standard. The increase of
the salaries of the president and justices was re-
tained. — The acts to ascertain and fix the com-
pensation of members of congress have been as
follows: The act of Sept. 22, 1789, fixed the sal-
aries of Senators and representatives at $6 per day,
of the empire, very nearly two-thirds of this number being on
the river Volga and its affluents. – The internal commerce of
the empire, as well as its foreign trade, has been greatly ex-
tended by the establishment, in recent years, of a compre-
hensive net-work of railways. The latest official returns state,
that on July 1, 1880, the total length of the railways of Rus-
sia in Europe, open for traffic, amounted to 22,037 versts, or
14,145 English miles. At the same date 1,110 miles more of
lines were in course of construction. The progress of rail-
way construction in Russia is shown succinctly in the follow-
ing table, which gives the length of lines opened at succes-
sive periods:
YEARS VerstS. *
ſiles.
1838 to 1865.--------------------------- 3,578 2,385
1866 to 1870---------------------------- 6,514 4,343
1871 to 1876---------------------------- 7,606 5,071
1876 to 1878---------------------------- 2,719 1,812
Total------------------------------- 20,417 13,611
On the proposition of the minister of public works, the em-
peror sanctioned, in June, 1875, the extension of the then
existing system by 6,500 versts, or 4,333 English miles, which,
added to the 2,500 versts, or 1,666 English miles, previously
sanctioned, raised the total to 9,000 versts, or 6,000 English
miles. The new net-work is divided into four classes, accord-
ing to different degrees of urgency, and the first of these
classes will include the Siberian railway and the seven pro-
jected lines in the coal basin of the Don ; 2,600 versts, or
1,734 English miles, are assigned to this class, at the head of
which has been placed the immense Siberian line, reported
as “most urgent” by a special commission on railways sum-
moned in 1870. It is from a station on this line, probably
Tinmen, that the Central Asian line to Tashkend is to take
its rise, the continuation of the Orenburg line in that direc-
tion having been condemned as impracticable, owing to the
inhospitable nature of the country it would have to traversc.
The importance of the seven lines for the coal fields of the
south is great, as the new railways will traverse this field in
every direction, and connect it on one side with the Black
sea and the sea of Azof, and on the other with the existing
trunk lines of the empire. — In 1880–81 a railway for military
purposes was constructed from Mikhailovsk, on the southeast
shore of the Caspian, to Kizil Arvat, and a tramway thence
to Beurma, near Bami, about 200 miles in all; within 100
miles of Askabad, and 260 of Sarakhs, on the northwest fron-
tier of Afghanistan. — On Jan. 1, 1879, there were forty-five
railway companies existing in the empire. Of this number
ten had constructed their lines altogether without govern-
ment assistance; while the remaining thirty-five were guar-
anteed, fifteen to the full amount of their capital, and the
other twenty only to a partial extent. The entire sum guar-
anteed in 1874 by the state, in the shape of interest and
repayment of capital, amounted to 51,177,627 roubles, or
37,311,089. In the year 1878 the sum of 14,592,172 roubles,
or £2,084,596, being 78 52 per cent. of the sum total, was paid
out of the exchequer to the railway companies. The char-
ters granted to railway companies are for the most part ter-
minable after between seventy-five and eighty-five years; but
some small companies have charters only for thirty-seven
years. The following table shows the gross receipts, the
and $6 for every twenty miles of travel, until
March 4, 1795, after which date Senators were to
receive $7 per day, and $7 for every twenty miles
of travel. The act of March 10, 1796, fixed the
salaries of both senators and representatives at the
rate fixed in 1789. The act of March 19, 1816,
increased this salary to $1,500 per annum for
“this and every future congress.” This “salary
grab '' excited so much popular feeling that it
was repealed by act of Feb. 6, 1817. The act of
Jan. 22, 1818, fixed the salary at $8 per day, and
$8 for every twenty miles of travel, dating the
increase back to March 3, 1817. The act of Aug.
16, 1856, increased the salary to $3,000 per annum,
and mileage as before, and enacted further, that
“this law shall apply to the present congress.”
In all these ascertainments of salary, the speaker's
salary had been double that of the other members.
The act of July 28, 1866, increased the salary of
members to $5,000 per annum, and that of the
speaker to $8,000. All these increases had been
retroactive, and it is probable that the criticism on
the increase of 1873 came mainly from the lavish
generosity of congress in increasing so many sal-
aries, heightened by the unfortunate fact that the

congressional increase alone was retroactive. —
See 1 Stat. at Large, 70, 448 (for acts of Sept. 22,
1789, and March 10, 1796); 3 Stat. at Large, 257,
345, 404 (acts of March 19, 1816, Feb. 6, 1817, and
Jan. 22, 1818); 11 Stat. at Large, 48 (act of Aug.
working expenses and the net receipts, in roubles, of the
Russian railways during each of the eleven years 1869–79:

TYEARS. Gross Receipts. A.; Net Receipts
1869 -------------- 65,272,518 || 35,469,953 29,802 565
1870 -------------- 78,820,633 46,719,992 32,100,642
1871 -------------- 95,075,742 60,386,666 34,689,076
1872 -------------- 102,645,916 66,081,549 36,564,367
1873-------------- 123,696,908 72,248,948 51,447,960
1874-------------- 141,632,640 89,124,000 52,508,640
1875 -------------- 142,004,655 92,941,455 49,063,200
1876 -------------- 147,396,236 100,267,449 47,128,787
1877 -------------- 193,223,874 121,494,777 71,729,097
1878 -------------- 211,905,758 133,120,261 78,785,497
1879 -------------- 212,771,418 151,175,558 61,595,860
It appears from official returns referring to the end of the
year 1878, that at that date the capital of all the railway com-
panies amounted to 1,450,288,196 roubles, or £207,184,028.
The capital consisted of £135,446,153 in bonds, and £71,737,875
in shares. No less than £92,101,350 of the bonds and £9,055,750
of the shares were held by the government itself; 48.8 per
cent. of the whole railway property of the country was there-
fore held by the government. — The postoffice in the year
1880 conveyed 128,817,612 letters and post cards, 8,960,721
wrappers and parcels, and 88,168,700 newspapers. There
were 4,458 postoffices in the empire in 1880. The total re-
ceipts of the general post in the year 1880 did not cover the
expenditure. — The length of telegraph lines in Russia, in
1880, was 59,000 English miles, and the length of wire 134,000
English miles. Of the total system, about seven-eighths was
the property of the state. There were at the same date 2,838
telegraph offices, 1,185 belonging to the state, and the remain-
der to private companies. The total number of telegrams
carried in 1880 was 7,298,429, comprising 5,768,255 inland dis-
patches, and the rest on international service. The receipts
of the telegraph office, which were £1,226,762 in 1878, have
shown, in recent years, a small annual surplus, which is, by
imperial decree, always devoted to the extension of the tele-
graphic system.–F. M. -
SAN DOMINGO.
675
16, 1856); 14 Stat. at Large (act of July 28, 1866);
17 Stat. at Large, 486 (act of March 3, 1873); and
18 Stat. at Large, 4 (act of Jan. 20, 1874).
- ALEXANDER JOHNSTON,
SAN DOMINGO. The republic of San Do-
mingo (Republica Dominicama), founded in 1844,
is governed under a constitution bearing date
Nov. 18, 1844, reproclaimed, with changes, Nov.
14, 1865, after a revolution which expelled the
troops of Spain, who held possession of the coun-
try for the two previous years. By the terms of
the constitution, the legislative power of the re-
public is vested in a national congress of two
houses, called the consejo conservador, and the
tribunado, the first consisting of twelve, and the
second of fifteen members. The members of both
houses are chosen in indirect election, with re-
stricted suffrage, for the term of four years. But
the powers of the national congress only embrace
the general affairs of the republic; and the indi-
vidual states, five in number, have separate legis-
latures. – The executive authority is vested in
a president, chosen in indirect election for the
term of four years. Constant insurrections have
allowed very few presidents to serve the full term
of office. The administrative affairs of the repub-
lic are in charge of a ministry appointed by the
president, with the approval of the consejo conser-
vador. The ministry is composed of the heads of
the departments of the interior and police; finance,
justice, war and marine, and foreign affairs. —
The financial estimates of the republic for the
year 1882 set down the revenue as $1,500,000, or
£300,000, with an expenditure to the same amount.
The branches of expenditure were as follows:
Interior and police-------------------------------- $ 253,514
146,486
255,832
144,168
437,823
Justice, etc. ----------------------------------- ---
Finance, etc. -------------------------------------
War and marine.---------------------------------
Extraordinary expenses --------------------------- 102,177
Balance ----------------------------------------- 160,000
Total ---------------------------------------- $1,500,000
The revenue for 1883 is estimated at $1,750,000,
mainly derived from customs duties, which aver-
age 40 per cent., while a large part of the annual
expenditure is for the maintenance of a standing
army. Besides a large internal debt, of unknown
amount, San Domingo has a foreign debt, con-
tracted at the London stock exchange in 1869.
The debt, to the nominal amount of £757,700 at
6 per cent., was issued at the price of 80; but it
was stated officially that the government had actu-
ally received only between $190,000 and $250,000
from the contractors for the loan. (“Report of
the Select Committee on Loans to Foreign States,”
1875.) It is officially stated that the government
is now (January, 1883) engaged in ascertaining the
amount of the debt, and a commission has been
appointed for the purpose. — The area of San
Domingo, which embraces the eastern portion of
the island of Hayti (the western divisionsforming
the republic of Hayti), is estimated at 18,045 Eng-
lish square miles, with a population, in 1880, of
300,000 inhabitants, or sixteen to the square mile.
— The republic is divided into the five provinces,
or states, mutually independent, of San Domingo,
Azna de Compostela, Santa Cruz del Seybo, San-
tiago de los Caballeros, and Concepcion de la
Vega, besides four maritime districts. The popu-
lation, like that of the neighboring Hayti, is com-
posed mainly of negroes and mulattoes, but the
whites, or European-descended inhabitants, are
comparatively numerous, and, owing to their in-
fluence, the Spanish language is the prevailing
dialect. The capital of the republic is the city of
San Domingo, founded in 1494, at the mouth of
the river Ozama, with 10,000 inhabitants. – The
commerce of the republic is small, owing in part
to customs duties of a prohibitory character. The
principal articles of export are lignum vitae, log-
wood, coffee and sugar. Cocoa is also cultivated.
In 1881, the value of the imports amounted to
£352,263, and of the exports to £338,215, the for-
eign commerce being shared by the ports of San
Domingo and Puerta Plata. The commerce of
the republic is mainly with the United States and
Great Britain. — The country is stated to be mak-
ing rapid progress. A railway is being constructed
between Samaná and Santiago, embracing the
whole of the rich provinces in the northern por-
tion of the republic, and another line will soon be
made between Barahona and the salt mountain of .
“Cerro de Sal.” Large sugar plantations and
factories are stated to be now in full work in the
southern and western parts of the republic, and a
large factory for concrete owned by an English
company. — The bay of Samaná, on the northeast
coast of San Domingo, one of the greatest natural
harbors in the world, thirty miles long and ten
miles broad, was ceded, with the surrounding
country, to a company formed in the United
States, by a treaty signed by the president of the
republic, Jan. 10, 1873. Under another decree,
passed March 25, 1874, the rights of the company
were confiscated, on the ground of non-payment
of a stipulated annual rent. — BIBLIOGRAPHY.
Samuel Hazard, Santo Domingo, Past and Present:
with a glance at Haiti, London, 1873; W. Jordan,
Geschichte der Insel Haiti, Leipzig, 1849; D. B.
Randolph Keim, Santo Domingo: Pen Pictures
and Leaves of Travel, Philadelphia, 1871; Antonio
Monte y Tejada, Historia de Santo Domingo, desde
su. Descubrim?ento hasta ???!estros dias, Habana,
1853. F. M.
— In 1869 a movement took shape for the annexa-
tion of San Domingo to the United States. Much
of the impelling force of the movement undoubt-
edly lay in the selfish interests of various Ameri-
can citizens in San Domingo, in their loans to the
republic, their claims against it, and their unpro-
ductive grants from it; but a further incentive
was the naval importance of the bay of Samaná,
as a coaling station for United States vessels, and
a commanding position for the Mona passage, the
eastern avenue to the gulf of Mexico. In July,
676
SAND WICH ISLANDS.
1869, Gen. Babcock was sent to San Domingo by
President Grant; and, on his favorable report, a
treaty for the annexation of the republic was
made, Nov. 29, 1869, with a convention for the
lease of the bay and peninsula of Samaná to the
United States. The treaty was ratified by popular
vote in San Domingo; but in the United States it
met instant opposition. A new article was added
to the treaty, May 14, 1870, in order to remove
some of the reasons for opposition, and President
Grant, in a special message of May 31, urged the
ratification of the whole treaty. He believed that
it would maintain the Monroe doctrine, prevent
the acquisition of Samaná by a European power,
build up our lost merchant marine, abolish slavery
at once in Cuba and Porto Rico, and ultimately
in Brazil, support a population of 10,000,000 in
luxury, and pay off the foreign debt of the United
States. Nevertheless, the senate rejected the
treaty, June 30. — In his annual message of Dec.
5, 1870, President Grant proposed that congress
should authorize a commission to negotiate an
annexation treaty with San Domingo, and reiter.
ated his former arguments in favor of the project.
Congress went with the president far enough to
pass a resolution, Jan. 12, 1871, authorizing the
appointment of a commission to examine into the
condition of San Domingo, but added the proviso
“that nothing in these resolutions contained shall
be held, understood or construed as committing
congress to the policy of annexing the territory of
the said republic of Dominica.” The commis-
sioners, B. F. Wade, Andrew D. White and S. G.
Howe, visited San Domingo in January–March,
1871, and made an exhaustive and rather favor-
able report. They specially reported that they
could find no trace of the corrupt grants of land
to United States officials which had been declared
by common report to be the real Inoving cause of
the treaty. But the “San Domingo scheme,”
with its accompanying charges of fraud, corrup-
tion, bargain and jobbery, had by this time become
highly unpopular, and the president, in a special
message of April 5, 1871, abandoned the question
to congress, appealing to the candor and intelli-
gence of the people for a justification of his own
action. No further action was taken in the mat-
ter. President Baez, of San Domingo, had been
the most efficient agent of the proposed annexa-
tion ; and his government was completely over-
thrown by a successful revolution, 1872–3. — One
of the most active opponents of annexation was
Senator Charles Sumner (see his name). The con-
troversy between him and the president became
personal and angry, and in 1871 he was removed
from his place of chairman of the senate commit-
tee on foreign relations, at the request of the pres-
ident, by vote of the other republican senators.
From that time he was in opposition to the admin-
istration until his death, in 1874. A. J.
SANDWICH ISLANDS. These islands are
situated in the Pacific Ocean, at an equal distance
from the shores of America and Japan, between
19 and 224 of north latitude and 155° and 160°
of Paris longitude. The archipelago is composed
of fifteen islands, of which only seven are inhab-
ited or inhabitable. Their names and respective
area in square kilometres are as follows: Hawaii,
12,620; Maoui, 1,966; Oahu, 1,822; Molokai, 468;
Kaouai, 2,010; Nihaou, 308; Kahoulai, 94. On
a total area of 19,756 square kilometres, the num-
ber of inhabitants was, in 1872, 56,897, of which
40,044 were natives. Since 1798, the date of the
discovery of these islands by Cook, their popula-
tion has been constantly diminishing. It amounted
at that time to at least 300,000; in 1823, Mr. Ellis.
found less than 150,000, of whom 85,000 were in
the great island of Hawaii. The statements of
subsequent censuses have shown still further
diminutions: in 1832, the population was 130,313;
in 1836, 108,579; in 1849, 84,163; in 1853, 71,019;
in 1860, 67,979. These diminutions are attributed
to the dissolute habits of the inhabitants. The
introduction of civilization and Christianity has
not yet succeeded in establishing the institution.
of the family there. Marriage exists only in name.
The children are, for the most part, brought up.
by persons other than by those who begot them.
The children brought up by their parents are no
better taken care of. The father scarcely able to
exist, his protection is almost entirely lacking.
The mother, desirous of preserving her charms,
which nursing children might destroy, and es-
pecially her freedom, hastens to rid herself of
her progeny. The children, born spite of attempts.
at abortion, are, notwithstanding all the sever-
ity of the criminal laws, regularly put to death.
during the first year after their birth. The prac-
tices of abortion and infanticide are common in
all classes of society. In the lower classes, births.
are very numerous; but, despite the advantages.
and exemptions from taxes granted to families.
which have more than two children, it is rare to
find a family which has more than one. — The
governmental and social system was for a long
time a sort of feudal communism. The union of
the islands under the sole rule of Kamehameha I.
in the beginning brought about no change in this
state of affairs. The sovereign alone was propri-
etor of the land. It was not until 1848 that the
right of possessing landed property was granted
to individuals. – In 1838 all power was concen
trated in the hands of royalty. At that time
Ramehameha III., yielding to the advice of
American missionaries, made himself a constitu-
tional king. The constitution of 1840, which cre-
ated a chamber of nobles, composed of sixteen
persons, five of whom were women, with the king
for president, did not prove very successful. It
was necessary to revise it in 1848, and to confide
the executive power to a council of ministers, pre-
sided over by the minister of the interior. This
new constitution, which recognized an order of
mobility, has also been reformed. The two parts
of the national representation were replaced by a
privy cºuncil, composed of the king, the queen,
the ministers, the governors of the four largest
SANITARY SYSTEM.
677
islands, the chancellor, the judges of the supreme
court, and of eight elected members; but since
that time the constitution of Aug. 4, 1864, doubled
the number of the elected members of the privy
council, eight of whom are chosen from among
the natives, and eight from among foreigners.
This parliament deliberates at will in the native
or in the English language. After the death of
king Kamehameha V., the author of the consti-
tution of 1872, a descendant, in the female line,
of the chief of the dynasty of Lunalilo I. was
elected king, not, as has been stated, by universal
suffrage, but by a vote of parliament. (He only
reigned two years.)— The press plays a great part
in the political system of the islands. The gov-
ernment is represented by the “Polynesian,” a
journal whose chief editor is appointed by the
government, with the title of director of the press;
the opposition, by the “Commercial Advertiser,”
the “Friend,” and the “Star of the Pacific.” —
Almost all public offices are in the hands of Eng-
lish or American naturalized Hawaiian subjects.
The constitution of 1840 accorded freedom of
conscience; no religion has succeeded in improving
the population; the ministers of all religious segts
are agreed in acknowledging that their flock is
Christian Only in name. Schools, however, are nu-
merous.—During 1859–60, the revenues amounted
to $656,006, and the expenditures to $643,000.
During 1870–72 the receipts amounted to $964,956,
and the expenditures to $969,784. The customs
figured in the receipts for $396,418, the domestic
taxes for $98,983, the direct taxes for $215,962, the
Tegalian rights, postoffice, renting of domains, etc.,
for $124,071. The national debt was estimated,
in 1874, at $177,971. — The soil is very fertile, and
its present products would be sufficient to feed a
population five times as large as that now occupy.
ing the islands. To the native nutritious plants
have been added the cultivation of tobacco, in-
digo, potatoes and Sugar cane. The exports, in
1860, amounted to more than $1,200,000; those
of 1871, to $2,145,000, of which $1,403,000 were
native products. Oils and whalebone, sugar, cof-
fee, wool and peltry formed the principal articles
of export. The imports represented an amount
of more than $1,500,000. Six-tenths were fur-
nished by the United States, and the other four-
tenths by England, the Hanseatic cities, Sweden
and Russia. The Sandwich islands are connected
with all these countries and with France by com-
mercial treaties. The independence of this archi-
pelago was, in 1863, the object of a special recog-
nition, in which the United States joined the fol-
lowing year. *
. LOUIS GOTTARD.
* The Sandwich islands are also known as the Hawaiian
islands, Hawaii being the largest of the group. The latest
statistics give the population at 57,985, 5,916 of whom are
Chinese and 4,561 whites. The capital is Honolulu, with a
population (1878) of 14,114. The receipts of the state from
April 1, 1876, to March 31, 1878, amounted to $1,151,713, and
the expenditures to $1,110,472. The state debt on March 31,
1878, was $444,800. The standing army consists of only sev-
enty-five men. There is a volunteer corps of 400 men.—M.
SANITARY SYSTEM. I. Public Health.
The administrative organization of the sanitary
regimen, in Europe, may be divided into three dis-
tinct systems: the French system, the English sys-
tem and the German system. Other states adopt
one or the other of these systems, with some mod-
ifications. – 1. The French System. This is char-
acterized by the institution of collective author-
ities, under the name of councils of public health,
and by the purely consultative powers with which
they are invested. The right of execution belongs
to the prefect, who is president ea officio of these
councils. From the time of the new organization
of police in the city of Paris, in 1667, the first
magistrate charged with this administration, De
La Reynie, formed a commission of physicians to
consult upon a question relative to the making
of bread. The opinions were found to be so di-
verse that he appealed to the faculty of medicine,
which, at that time, embraced the entire medical
body. In this assembly the disagreement was no
less, and a commission, composed this time of six
physicians and six “notable and expert” citizens,
had to decide the question. Afterward, recourse
was had again, more than once, to the advice of
this commission, and, toward the end of the last
century, the state of the sanitary police of the
capital of France was relatively superior, and it
filled with enthusiasm J. P. Frank, who may be
considered as the founder of scientific hygiene.
‘‘I found there,” he exclaimed, “a model of those
courageous applications of heroic remedies, which
will never escape criticism in certain German
provinces. For many centuries the enlightened
vigilance of the magistrates of this immense city
has descended to the slightest details, and an em-
inently salutary (Segensvoll) order of things con-
firms the value of most of the prescriptions which
have their origin there.” — The royal Society of
medicine was religiously faithful to that part of
its duties, the usefulness of its work, in the do-
main of public health, extended far beyond the
precincts of Paris, and has outlived the existence
itself of the illustrious company. Whoever has
had to treat any subject of hygiene, notably of
endemics or epidemics, appreciates with real grat-
itude, in the memoirs of the society published
from 1779 to 1790, the instructive developments
of its programmes and the wealth of material it
has bequeathed to students. – M. Dubois, prefect
of police, took up these excellent traditions, when,
by a decree dated the 18th Messidor, year VIII.
(July 6, 1802), he established a board of health,
composed of four paid members. Since then,
this board, consulted as to all questions relating
to public health, has seen the number and im-
portance of the affairs submitted to its delibera-
tion increase in proportion as Paris has increased.
Its organization was fixed by the decree of the
prefect of police of Dec. 24, 1832, somewhat
modified in 1838 and 1844. The decree of Dec.
15, 1851, only confirmed the existing institution.
The powers of this board extend only over Paris,
but there are, in each of the arrondissements of
678
SANITARY SYSTEM.
the city of Paris and in those of Sceaux and Saint
Denis, health commissions, with less extensive
powers. — The example given by the capital was
slowly enough followed by the administrations
of the principal cities of France. From 1822
to 1832, Lyons, Marseilles, Lille, Nantes, Troyes,
Rouen, Bordeaux, Toulouse and Versailles were
provided with boards of health. In 1836 the gov-
ernment thought of a general and definitive organ-
ization of the sanitary régime in France. The
academy of medicine joined eagerly in this effort
with a long and remarkable report by Dr. Marc;
but these projects were not realized. They were
revived by the revolution of February. In the
midst of the ardent aspirations for the well-being
of the masses, which agitated this epoch, public
health could not be forgotten. A plan was drawn
up under the direction of M. Tourret, then min-
ister of agriculture and commerce, and became
the decree of Dec. 18, 1848. This act applied only
to the departments; it organized commissions of
health in each department, arrondissement and
canton, composed of physicians, apothecaries, ar-
chitects and other specialists. Their powers ex-
tended over the healthfulness of the public high-
ways, houses, workshops; schools, etc.; over the
slaughter houses, factories and other industrial es-
tablishments, the nuisances of all kinds, danger-
ous animals, cemeteries, epidemic and endemic
diseases, as well as over epizootics. Their powers
also extended to the surveillance of the quality
of the foods, beverages, condiments and medicines
of commerce. The decree mentions also many
other points; but, as they seem to be entirely neg-
lected, we may pass them over in silence. In fact,
the occupation of the boards of health consists
chiefly, as M. Tardieu admits, in examining de-
mands for the licensing, removing or abolishing
dangerous, unhealthy or incommodious establish-
ments, governed by the decrees of Oct. 15, 1810,
and Dec. 31, 1866. The committees find at times
useful auxiliaries in the physicians of epidemics
and the cantonal physicians. The first, established
since May 2, 1805, in each arrondissement, must,
at the first request which they receive from the
subprefect, go to the localities in which an epi-
demic has broken out, examine into the circum-
stances of the situation, the habits of the people,
etc., which might have caused it to originate or
which favor it, and prescribe the measures proper
to arrest its progress, as well as the method of
treatment. The cantonal physicians date from
April 13, 1835, and are as yet in only a certain
number of departments. – The organization of
the Comité consultatif d'hygiène publique de France
was regulated by the decrees dated Aug. 10, 1848,
Oct. 23, 1856, and Nov. 5, 1869. It is composed
of physicians, a chemist, an engineer of roads
and bridges or of mines, an architect, and various
functionaries. The province of the committee
extends to quarantines and to the service of the
Sanitary physicians established in, the orient; to
the measures to be taken to prevent and combat
epidemics; to the improvement of the thermal
establishments, and to means of rendering the use
of them more accessible to invalids who are poor.
— The law of April 13, 1850, also instituted, be-
sides, “in each commune where the municipal
council shall have declared it necessary,” com-
missions of unhealthy houses, furnished with the
power necessary to bring about the purification
of such houses. – The academy of medicine is
the completion of the aggregate of the institutions.
with which we have to deal here. It encour-
ages by honorary rewards the study of epidemics,
centralizes the results which this study produces,
and presents annually, in its learned memoirs,
a tableau of the diseases which have prevailed
in the different parts of France. The care of
propagating vaccine, and the centralization of the
observations made in the establishments of thermak
or mineral waters, are also confided to it. —Italy,
Belgium and Spain follow, in their sanitary sys-
tem, the way of the French. But it would be
departing from the truth to place these countries.
in the same line. In the middle ages, Italy had
already preceded other countries on this road, and
to-day it still occupies an honorable rank among
countries which give their attention to public.
health. — 2. The English System. Intelligent pro-
visions relative to the construction and mainte-
nance of public highways, dams and sewers; reg-
ulations concerning unhealthy trades and the con-
struction of houses, dating from the reigns of
Henry VIII. and Queen Elizabeth, had fallen into
disuse. Under George IV. a law declared that
each person had the right to remove objects which
were “to the annoyance of all the king's subjects,”
and “ of doing one's self justice.” Then it was
necessary to bring long and expensive lawsuits,
which were very much disapproved of by every-
body. And yet there was the appearance of a.
sanitary police. It was confided to local juries;
their organization and the services which could be
expected from them may be inferred from the fol-
lowing example. In a district frequently ravaged
by contagious fevers “ of the gravest kind,” the
jury was composed of twelve members, of whom
six were toll-keepers, one or two cheesemongers,
three or four tailors or drapers, one mason, one.
house builder, and no physician. No one, they
acknowledged themselves, knew anything of the
business in hand, except how to examine weights.
and measures; and without the fortuitous presence.
of the builder, they would neither have understood,
nor been able to do anything of, what was incum-
bent upon them. — Such was the situation when
the invasion of the cholera brought to an end this.
too long continued security. The tribute paid by
England to the scourge was great. In One year
alone she lost 70,000 individuals, of whom 30,000
were adults. This was 10,000 more men than the
wars of 1800 to 1815 had cost her. And this was.
not all. In presence of these hecatombs, it was
recalled that other epidemic diseases, almost un-
known elsewhere, subjected, at all times, the Eng-
lish populations to a regular diminution, and it.
had to be acknowledged that those wealthy cities.
SANITARY SYSTEM. ,
679
and those sunny stretches of country were as if
poisoned by murderous miasmas; that those ma-
jestic rivers, the pride of the country, carried death
in their corrupt waters; that the royal residences
and even the interior of the palaces were filled
with dangers. As soon as these cries of alarm
were heard, England looked the enemy in the face,
and understood that, to conquer it, radical meas-
ures were necessary. — From 1848 new laws paved
the way for a general healthfulness by means of
the drainage of the marshes, the streets and the
houses, as well as the establishment of aqueducts
and sewers. This vast undertaking was confided
to a general board of health, furnished with great
executive authority and powers proportioned to the
difficulties of the enterprise. In the special interest
of the new sanitary police, the entire country was
divided, by geological basins, into districts wholly
independent of the administrative arrangements
of the parishes, etc.; physicians were charged with
the medical care of the poor, who were, moreover,
visited and aided by a great number of relief offi-
cers. — This organization appears to have been
only partially successful, especially outside of the
capital; complaint was made of the multiplicity
of laws and authorities, one charged with the poor,
another with the sewers, others still with unhealthy
houses, etc. A law of 1872 (Aug. 10, 35 & 36 Vic-
toria, chap. lxxix.; see also the sanitary act of
1866) concentrates this service in the hands, either
of the municipality in the cities, or of poor boards.
All power is given them to take the necessary
measures and to levy taxes, to appoint and pay
physicians, and to have charge of the execution
of measures of sanitary police. The sanitary serv-
ice comes within the functions of the board of lo-
cal government, which causes its execution to be
seen to by inspectors appointed for that purpose.
—3. The German System. The principle of can-
tonal physicians, official guardians of the public
health, and expert physicians attached to the
courts, charged with visiting the poor gratul-
tously, is everywhere in force. A hierarchy, sim-
ilar to that of the administrations, binds them to
a medical college forming part of the provincial
authority. At the top of fle pyramid is a supe-
rior committee. This system does not seem, how-
ever, to be sufficiently efficacious, at least as re-
gards epidemics, for in 1872, the government
appointed a commission to devise the organization
of a service embracing all Germany, public health
being within the functions of the federal govern-
ment. — Holland, Russia, Sweden and Denmark
have organized their sanitary institutions after the
German system. — II. Endemics and Epidemics;
Contagious Diseases; Quarantômes. The diseases
which have a right to the attention of the legis-
lator and of the administration constitute three
classes. They are: endemic, epidemic and con-
tagious diseases. Endemic diseases arise from the
conditions of the configuration of a country, from
its meteorology, from the geological structure of
its soil, from the distribution of its waters and
their qualities, from its vegetation and all its prod-
ucts, from the food of its inhabitants, from their
mode of life, from their ease or their poverty.
The number of affections of this order is large, if
one considers them in all the zones of the globe.
Here it is sufficient to cite the most prominent ex-
amples in certain climates : cretinism, with the
endemic goitre, intermittent fevers, pellegra, etc.
When we consider that the goitre and cretinism
constitute a veritable physical and moral degener-
ation of man ; that it is fatally propagated by
heredity; that on the territory of France live more
than 100,000 of these unfortunates, and that the
number of them is still more considerable in Swit-
zerland, Piedmont, Austria, etc.; that the endemic
intermittent fevers, in their various pernicious
forms, very often carry death in their train, and
when they are of an intense degree, keep entire
populations in an habitual state of debility, inca-
pacity for labor, and sunk in profound poverty,
we must admit that the ravages produced by this
category of evils outweigh every other danger
which can temporarily threaten public health. —
Fortunately, the state can do much to improve
this state of things. The drainage and cultivation
of the marshes, the planting of the downs, irrigat-
ing canals, drainage practiced on a sufficient Scale,
are sure means of producing healthfulness. A.
government must not even recoil before the re-
moval of a small population, when it is absolutely
impossible to modify the topography of the lo-
calities which it inhabits, as may happen in cer-
tain narrow valleys, and mountain gorges, Seats
of cretinism. These great public works neces-
sitate, it is true, very considerable expense. But
public interest counsels these productive expenses
as much as humanity commands them. —Any
disease which attacks simultaneously in a place
a more or less considerable number of individ-
uals, is called an epidemic. Strictly speaking, we
should not have to cite examples here, for we
would have to pass in review almost all the im-
mense repertory of medical practice. We see
even epidemics of erysipelas and of brain fever;
as, on the other hand, we observe isolated cases
of affections which we are most used to regard as
being of an epidemic character, such as small-pox,
cholera, etc. Epidemics belong to those cases in
which society finds the compensation of the sac-
rifices it has undergone to increase the well-being
and strength of its members even in the lowest
ranks. The evil is always so much the more for-
midable and is so much the more extensive as it
encounters the less resistance; and where can this
resistance be found except in the vital energy of
those who are exposed to the attacks of disease?
Moreover, hygienic and healthful measures, hastily
improvised when an epidemic is imminent or has
already broken out, present the double inconven-
ience of being particularly expensive and of a
very limited efficacy.—A contagious disease is one
which can be transmitted, by the contact of an in-
dividual who is already affected by it, to one or
more other individuals predisposed to catch it.
This definition differs essentially, we see, from the
680
SANITARY SYSTEM.
one we gave in the preceding paragraph; it estab-
lishes a well-defined line of demarcation between
the two classes of diseases. There exist undoubt-
edly contagious diseases which are never epi-
demic, just as there are important epidemics
into which the element of contagion never enters;
for these latter, the question is only one of isola-
tion, Sequestration, quarantine. — Antiquity, al-
though it was acquainted with very terrible epi-
demics, opposed to them only a stoical courage
and a few measures of general hygiene. In the
middle ages only, at the same time that the fre-
quency and violence of the ‘‘pests” took a fright-
ful development, did efforts of direct defense
against them begin to be taken. The terror which
they inspired was extreme, the weapons with
which they were fought were often barbarous.
Society saw itself powerless to attack the evil in
its source, by transforming the physical state of
Europe and improving the material and moral ex-
istence of its people. It conceived the idea of
closing access to its cities to the enemy, and of
hemming it in, like a conflagration, when it had
once penetrated there. The disease considered
especially contagious, leprosy, had its permanent
quarantines. Veritable centres of an unclean and
crowded population, the settlements of lepers soon
became themselves, by hereditary propagation,
more surely than by contagion, immense centres
of infection, which that heartless time ended by
recognizing only one way of opposition, the fu-
neral pile and the stake, its last argument in hy-
giene, as it was in politics and theology. —The
Italian republics sought, from the second half of
the fourteenth century, in guarantimes a means of
protection against the invasion of pestilential dis-
eases, although the greater part of these diseases,
far from being the real eastern plague, were not
even contagious. Milan possessed a lazaretto with
nearly 500 rooms. Having at that time the mo-
nopoly of the trade with the Levant, Venice in-
stituted, in 1403, the first maritime quarantine ;
Genoa followed this example in 1467. The regu-
lations designed for these institutions were drawn
up with Draconian severity, and the traces of them
have been very slowly effaced. Scarcely a cen-
tury ago, shipwrecked men, who were supposed
to come from a port where an epidemic prevailed,
were driven from the shores of Holland with can-
non, and in our day we have seen pitiless instruc-
tions given to the troops who, on the frontiers of
Poland and Russia, formed the sanitary cordon
against the cholera. Despite a permanent Sanitary
cordon, maintained, from 1728, by Austria upon
all its eastern frontier, its provinces were ravaged
by the plague in 1738, and from 1755 to 1757. —
In France, up to the year 1822, there existed no
sanitary law, although Marseilles, in obedience to
the wants which its relations with the east created,
had for a long time developed the institutions be-
queathed by previous centuries, and had evolved
from its old captains of health the magistracy of
Sanitary supervision, no less independent than they.
‘The invasion of the yellow fever into Catalonia
soon brought about the promulgation of a law,
dated March 3, 1822, followed by a royal ordi-
nance of Aug. 7 of the same year. The precision
with which, in 1830, it was believed the advance
of the cholera could be followed from the delta of
the Ganges to the centre of Europe, revived with
new force the hope that the progress of diseases
considered to be communicable might be arrested.
The experiment was not fortunate for the con-
tagionist doctrines, which had been previously
shaken so far as the yellow fever and the plague
were concerned. Legislation had to undergo mod-
ifications, which were formulated by the royal
ordinance of Aug. 17, 1847 (which instituted Euro-
pean sanitary physicians in the Lévant), a decree
of Aug. 10, 1849, and a decree of Dec. 24, 1850.
Then France took an initiative, the happy in-
fluence of which must be acknowledged. She
was the instigator of an international Sanitary
conference, formed by the various powers which
have joint interests in the Mediterranean. In 1850
there assembled at Paris delegates from France,
Austria, the Two Sicilies, Spain, the Roman States,
Greece, Portugal, Russia, Sardinia, Tuscany and
Turkey, who, after thorough discussion, decided
on a project for an international convention and
for sanitary international regulations. England
was also represented at this congress, but she did
not sign the convention which was the result of it.
Adopting the advice of her general board of health,
she renounced all organization intended to keep
away from her shores the cholera, the plague and
the yellow fever. Neither in France nor else-
where did people dare to break, in so radical a
manner, with deep-rooted ideas and apprehensions.
But the new code has freed commerce from a
great part of the shackles and the injury which
were becoming more onerous in proportion as the
circle of communications between nations en-
larged. — The imperial decree promulgating this
international convention bears date May 27, 1853;
the decree relative to its being put into execution
is dated June 4 of the same year, and was fol-
lowed by detailed instructions. After having de-
clared that this act applied especially to the plague,
the yellow fever and the cholera, the convention
sets forth in principle that besides any healthy port
has the right to fortify itself against a ship having
on board persons affected by a disease reputed
contagious, such as typhus fever and malignant
small-pox. It maintains the foul bill and the clean
bill: the former, for the proven presence of the
disease in the country from which the ship comes;
the latter, for the attested absence of all contāgious
disease. Every ship arriving with a foul bill shall
be declared in quarantine. The latter is divided
into quarantine of observation and close or rigor-
ous quarantine. In what concerns the plague,
the minimum of the quarantine is fixed at ten full
days, and the maximum at fifteen. For the yellow
fever, the minimum is five days and the maximum
seven; for the cholera, the quarantine of observa-
tion is five full days, including the time of the
voyage. — For merchandise, three categories have
SAVINGS.
681
been established, and they must be treated accord-
ing to the class to which they belong. The ex-
ecution of the prescriptions is confided to Sanitary
authorities, who are everywhere organized upon
uniform bases. The director of health, taken when
possible from the medical body, is the head of the
active service. A council, composed of local
scientific elements, watches over the interests of
the public health, exercises a general surveillance
over the sanitary service, gives advice as to the
measures to be taken in case of invasion, and con-
trols its execution. — Besides the provisions com-
mon and applicable to all the countries signing the
Convention, Turkey in Europe and Turkey in Asia,
as well as Egypt, are the object of particular pro-
visions, intended to prevent the development of
the plague, to stop this disease when it exists, to
give notice of it, and to oppose its introduction
into other countries. To this end a superior board
of health has been established at Constantinople,
and a sanitary board at Alexandria; foreign dele-
gates, who must as much as possible be specialists,
form a part of these boards. – This organization is
completed by the development of the institution of
sanitary physicians, established in 1847, who are
divided into two classes: central physicians and
ordinary physicians. Appointed by the contract-
ing powers, they preserve their independence of
the local authorities, and are dependent only on
the governments which appointed them. Their
functions consist in studying, in its relation to
public health, the country where they are, its cli-
mate, its diseases and all the conditions attached
thereto, as well as the measures taken to combat
these diseases; to inform the central physician of
the arrondissement or district (a central physician
resides at Constantinople, Smyrna, Beyrouth and
Alexandria), and the local consular body and the
local authorities, of everything which has to do
with the general health. — Finally, physicians,
commissioned by the minister of agriculture and
commerce, are shipped upon the steamers, which
are the most active intermediaries between France
and the Levant. These men are there, as so many
posts of observation, whence they must signal the
slightest suspicious disease which may arise during
the voyage. M. BORCHARD, D. M. P.
SAWINGS. Saving is the intended conserva-
tion of the whole or part of a useful object; it is
the setting apart of what is not indispensably nec-
essary for actual wants; it is a provident reserve
for certain contingencies, a provision or resource
which perseverance increases from day to day,
to guard against the necessities of an uncertain
future.
cised on the object itself, which is not actually
consumed. It is, however, generally indirect, tak-
ing the form of money laid by until a profitable
investment is found for it, or it is intrusted to some
private or public Savings institution. — Adam
Smith was the first to study the nature of Savings,
and he did it like a profound economist, politician
and philosopher.
The saving is direct when it is exer-
Smith values highly the man
who saves, as a benefactor of society, as the orig-
inator of a public workshop, which furnishes em-
ployment to a greater or less number of producers;
the constant, uniform and uninterrupted effort of
individual saving, he raises to the rank of a prin-
ciple, and he sees in this principle the prime source
of national wealth. The spirit of Saving, he adds,
is always more extensive than the wastefulness of
prodigality can possibly be; its reparatory power
is enormous, and no matter how great the waste
of individual or governmental imprudence, it is
still at work in the nation, unknown and in si-
lence, from the irresistible necessity of assuring the
future; this spirit realizes such an amount of sav-
ing, that, from one historical period to another,
we may easily recognize a constant improvement
in public and private fortunes. According to that
illustrious economist, the immediate cause of the
increase of a nation’s capital is saving, and not
industry. Industry, it is true, furnishes the ma-
terial which is to be placed in reserve, but saving
alone accomplishes this reserve, and without it,
capital, being entirely consumed as fast as it is
produced, would never become any greater. —
Frederick Bastiat, in an unfinished chapter of his
“Economic Harmonies,” bases the résumé of his
entire doctrine, exchange and value, upon the
definition of saving.
“To save,” he says, “ is
voluntarily to place an interval between the time
when we render a service to society, and the time
when we demand back an equivalent therefor.
Thus, a man may, every day, from his twentieth
to his sixtieth year, demand from his fellows,
services equivalent to only three-fourths the value
of the services he renders them in the practice of
his profession or trade. Thus he acquires the right
of drawing from Society, in his old age, when he
can no longer work, the unpaid fourth of his labor
of forty years. . The fact of his having received
and accumulated titles, in the form of bills of ex-
change, sight drafts, bank notes and specie, is an
entirely secondary matter and of no moment; it
has reference only to the manner of accumulation;
it can not change either the nature or the effects
of saving. * * To save, therefore, is to have ren-
dered a service, and granted time for the return of
its equivalent, or, to speak more generally, it is to
allow a certain space of time to elapse between the
service rendered and the service received.” — One
of the most dangerous anti-economic prejudices
advanced, is that which considers saving as a
veritable injury to Society, and especially to labor.
It is urged by unthinking men, that, to encourage
commerce, it is necessary to spend, and to spend
a great deal. This is even made a governmental
rule in too many cases. This disastrous Sophism,
which, as Adam Smith has remarked, has not yet
succeeded in ruining nations, because the power
of saving is greater than that of prodigality, at
least impedes the development of general pros-
perity, and impoverishes or overburdens with
debt, the cities which administer their affairs in
accordance with it. It is based upon a singular
illusion, which identifies the man who saves with
682
SAXONY.
the avaricious miser, whose only care is to hoard
up treasure. In times of invasion or trouble, in
the absence of all security, when men's minds are
tortured by the fear of pillage, the man who has
received money in exchange for his services, may
be driven to imbed it in a wall, or bury it in the
ground, in order to save it from brutal cupidity.
But in the normal state of society, unless a man
be a fool or most profoundly ignorant, he will find
some more profitable place for his spare capital; he
will buy interest-bearing notes, or a direct interest
in some industry, or he will purchase produce with
the speculative chance of selling it again at a profit,
or, better still, he will become an owner of real
estate. How can these different operations be
prejudicial to society, to industry, or even to the
laborer, who is always pitied in the same breath
which blames the man who saves 7 Workmen are
the most interested of all in the general increase
of capital, and, as we have seen, capital can only
be increased by means of Saving. In considering
expense as a benefit, we must always bear in mind
the great distinction that should be made between
the free and voluntary outlay of a private indi-
vidual who makes use of his own revenue as he
wills, and public or forced expense. In the latter
case, if it is intelligent and reproductive, it may
turn to the profit of those who bear the expense;
if foolish and unproductive, it impoverishes them,
since they do not receive any equivalent advan-
tage in return, and it benefits only a few, whose
accidental or frivolous and superfluous labor it
makes use of. Unfortunately such errors are re-
garded as incontestable truths and irrefutable ax-
ioms, by men who are otherwise most enlight-
ened, in the official world, and they have long
been the cause of disorders whose direful conse-
quences are simply incalculable.
- LOUIS LECLERC.
SAWINGS BANKS. (See BANKS, HISTORY
AND MANAGEMENT OF SAVINGS.)
SAXONY. The kingdom of Saxony forms
part of the German empire ; it has an area of
14,968 square kilometres; its frontiers, with a to-
tal length of 1,191 kilometres, border on Prussia
to an extent of 306 kilometres, and on Austria to
an extent of 644 kilometres; the rest is bounded
by various other states of Germany. — The popu-
lation of the kingdom of Saxony was 2,225,280 in
December, 1861, and 2,556,022 at the end of 1871;
in 1880 it was 2,972,805; the country is therefore
one of the most densely populated of Europe. In
1815 there were only 1,178,802 inhabitants; the
population has therefore more than doubled since
that time. — Constitution. The constitutional act
of Saxony dates from Sept. 4, 1831, but it has been
modified by the laws of May 5, 1851, Nov. 27, 1860,
Oct. 19, 1861, Dec. 3, 1868, and Oct. 12, 1874, with-
out, however, being altered in its spirit. The dietis
composed of representatives of the various orders.
The first chamber comprises the adult princes, five
mediatized lords, two deputies of Protestant estab-
lishments, one deputy of a Catholic establishment
(Stift), one deputy of the university of Leipzig, two
Protestant prelates, twelve proprietors of eques-
trian property elected for life by their order, ten
equestrian proprietors appointed for life by the
king (the first must possess a net income from
lands of 2,000 thalers, and the second of 4,000
thalers), eight burgomasters of the principal cities,
and five persons chosen by the king. The second
chamber consists of twenty deputies of equestrian
proprietors (having an income from land of at
least 600 thalers), twenty-five deputies of the
cities, twenty-five deputies of the peasants, and
ten deputies of the merchants and manufacturers.
All these deputies must belong to the order or the
class or the district which sends them to the cham-
ber. The whole political organization is conceived
in a conservative spirit. Thus, the chambers as-
semble only every three years; the budget is voted
for a triennial period; the deputies are elected for
nine years. The formation of political parties is
hindered by the fact that the deputies cannot choose
their own places in the hall where the sittings are
held, the places being determined by law or distrib-
uted by lot. The government alone has the right
of initiative. When a bill has been adopted by one
chamber, the other can not reject it except by a
majority of two-thirds of the votes of the mem-
bers present. Ministers can not be impeached ex-
cept by an agreement of the two chambers. The
high court of justice, which is the court of last
resort, has jurisdiction in such cases as well as of
every question as to the interpretation of the con-
stitution. It is composed of twelve members, of
whom six are appointed by the king from among
the judges of the kingdom, three by the first and
three by the second chamber, outside of the diet;
the high court is presided over by one of the
presidents of the courts of appeal chosen by the
king. In Saxony the power of the crown is less
limited than in most other constitutional mon-
archies, which results in part from the antiquity
of the dynasty and in part from the moderation
and spirit of justice which, for many generations,
have animated the princes of the house of Saxony.
However, as long as the royal family remains
Catholic, it will not be invested with the episcopal
power which Protestant sovereigns enjoy; three
or four members of the ministry are charged with
the exercise of that power. — Administration, and
Justice. The country is divided into four circles
(departments) the smallest of which had (1874)
330,000 inhabitants and the largest 959,000 in-
habitants. At the head of each circle is a direct-
ory charged with the administrative affairs, with
those of worship and instruction. The circles are
divided into grand bailiwicks (amtshauptmann-
schaft) to the number of fifteen in all, and the
grand bailiff may be considered as the subdele-
gate of the directory. In the inferior hierarchical
degree of administration we find in forty-eight
cities, city (municipal) councils, and in the country
121 bailiwicks (districts of 4,000 to 36,000 inhab-
itants), which the large proprietors gratuitously
SAXONY.
683
aid as justices of the peace. The city communes
possess a certain degree of autonomy. Civil jus-
tice includes as of first resort the 121 bailiwicks
and (for more important matters) sixteen tribu-
mals, whose jurisdictions extend over 84,000 to
265,000 inhabitants; above these tribunals figure
four courts of appeal, one in each circle ; and
finally, the supreme court of appeal (third resort)
sits at Dresden. In criminal cases, the trials are
public, the pleadings oral, and there is a public
prosecutor. Leipzig is the seat of the Supreme
court of commerce for all Germany. — Worship
and Instruction. There were, in 1874, 1,243
churches, of which 1,211 were Lutheran, distribut-
ed among 897 parishes, which form thirty-seven
superintendent circumscriptions. There are only
54,000 Catholics in Saxony. Public instruction
includes 1,977 primary schools (instruction is ob-
ligatory), seventy. Sunday Schools, eight primary
normal schools for male instructors and one for
female instructors, eleven gymnasia (lyceums),
one university (Leipzig), one academy (School) of
mines, two agricultural and forestry institutions,
one veterinary school, seven realschulen (schools
of the exact sciences), two polytechnic Schools (of
arts and manufactures), two conservatories of
music, two academies of fine arts, five Schools of
architecture, three commercial schools, etc. There
are few countries so rich in institutions of learn-
ing, both elementary and superior, in museums,
collections, and other means of instruction. — F.
mances. In the triennial financial period 1861–3,
the revenue, net receipts, was 12,356,352 thalers;
in the period 1864–6 it was 13,227,924 thalers; in
1872–3, 13,752,919 thalers, not including the ex-
traordinary budget of nearly 26,000,000, intended
for the construction of railways, and derived from
the disposable funds of the state, principally from
loans. The ordinary revenues, the only ones with
which we need to occupy ourselves here, proceed-
ed, in 1872, from the following sources:
Domains : Thalers.
Forests ------------------------------------------ 1,727,523
Agricultural domains----------------------------- 127,074
Mines-------------------------------------------- 230,000
Royal manufactory of porcelain at Meissen------- 48,480
Miscellaneous------------------------------------ 64,813
Total domains------------------------------- 2,197,890
Crown rights, net product:
Railways----------------------------------------- 4,909,200
Taxes on the mines------------------------------- 261,536
Highway and bridge tolls------------------------- 225,965
Miscellaneous------------------------------------ 20,600
Total crown rights--------------------------- 5,417,301
Special resources (which the Saxon budget
wrongly places under the head of “productive
capital "):
Interest of debts--------------------------------- 1,230,000
Lottery ------------------------------------------ 818,520
Charges of justice-------------------------------- 52,900
Reserve of official salaries------------------------ 40,950
Miscellaneous------------------------------------ 5,138
Total Special resources----------------------- 2,147,508
Direct taxes :
Real estate--------------------------------------- 1,677,870
Industrial and personal--------------------------- 1,298,500
Total direct taxes.--------------------------- 2,976,370
Indirect taxes: Thalers.
Customs and consumption.----------------------- 613,860
Stamps ------------------------------------------ 400,000
Total indirect taxes------------------- ------- 1,013,860
Total direct and indirect taxes---------------- 3,990,230
The total amount of the taxes was reduced by the
fact that the postoffice, telegraphs, customs, salt
and other direct taxes were given to the German em-
pire, which, in return, charged itself with certain
expenses. Let us only remark that the customs
are mentioned in the above table because Saxony
appoints the customs officers the whole length of
its frontiers, and retains out of the receipts which
it turns into the coffers of the German empire the
necessary sums to pay the agents and for material
expenses. – The following are the principal items
of expense of the state, in thalers:

ITEMS. 1864. 1872.
Civil list ----------------------------- 600,000 675,000
Appanages--------------------------- 205,666 191,162
Interest of the public debt------------ 2,285,231 5,487,551
Liquidation-------------------------- 836,293 44,166
Diet --------------------------------- 51,520 51,520
Ministry of state, archives of the state,
Court of accounts------------------- 31,890 35,380
Ministry of justice ----...-------------- 565,547 587,452
Ministry of the interior--------------- 995,944 | 1,327,718
Ministry of finances------------------ 510,209 511,402.
Ministry of War.--------------------- 2,255,957 ||----------
Ministry of worship and public in-
struction --------------------------- 453,177 853,893
Ministry of foreign affairs------------ 98,745 51,755
Quota to the expenses of the German
empire ----------------------------- 35,900 | 1,781,807.
Pensions ----------------------------- 596,910 544,875.
Public works (and railways)---------- 3,420,820 2,172,620
Other expenses----------------------- 192,370 207,580
Unforeseen expenses ----------------- 100,000 113,304
Total ---------------------------- 13,236,179 || 14,637,185.
The public debt amounted, in 1819, to more than
25,000,000 thalers; in 1842, it had decreased to 13,-
155,000; in 1861, the construction of the railroads.
raised it to 56,132,333 thalers bearing interest, and
to 7,000,000 of paper not bearing interest. Jan. 1,
1873, the debt amounted to 103,003,250 thalers,
besides 12,000,000 of paper money. Eighty-four
millions of this debt must be charged to the rail-
ways. The property of the state is worth nearly
one hundred millions, about eighty-four of which
are in real estate, and fourteen millions in personal
property. — Army. Military service is regulated
by the German legislation. (See GERMAN EM-
PIRE.)—Agricultural and Industrial Resources, etc.
The kingdom of Saxony is one of the most ad-
vanced countries. Agriculture has been brought
to a high degree of perfection. 50.31 per cent. Of
the total area of the country consists of arable
land, 2.85 of gardens, 11.28 of meadows, 0.12 of
vineyards, 2.1 of pasture land, 30.95 of forests,
and 2.39 of uncultivated lands. The soil is but
little parceled out into small properties, for So
populous a country. This results in part from the
law which permits each rural domain the exploita-
tion of a third only of its extent. The 971 eques-
trian properties, possessed in part by people who
684
SCHURZ.
are not nobles, form 13 per cent. of the private
estates; 24 per cent. of the remainder of the real
estate belongs to inhabitants of the cities, and 63
per cent. to the actual cultivators of the soil. An
equestrian property is worth, on an average, 90,000
thalers; six only exceed in value 420,000 thalers.
The peasants, free since 1830 from all feudal tax,
are in comfortable circumstances; yet, Saxony im-
ports 7.2 per cent. of its consumption of cereals.
According to the census of 1873, the country pos-
sesses 115,667 horses, 120 asses and mules, 647,074
horned cattle, 206,830 wool-bearing animals, 301,–
091 hogs, 105,401 goats, and 64,283 hives of bees.
— Saxony is an industrial country, for less than a
third of the population lives by agriculture, while
more than two-thirds are devoted to industry, com-
merce and the liberal professions. In 1862 there
were in the manufactories 290,108 masters, clerks
and workmen. There were employed 303,397 spin-
dles for carding wool, 104,622 for combing wool,
707,387 in the cotton mills, 13,082 in the flax mills,
and 520 in the silk manufactories. Small indus-
try gives occupation to 61,129 masters and 101,178
artisans; the corporations did not lose their priv-
ileges till 1861. The distribution of steam ma-
chines is remarkable : 275 (6,442 horse power)
belong to the mines and works; 75 (374 horse
power) to agriculture; 32 (630 horse power) to the
mills; 247 (30,898 horse power) to the transport
establishments; 605 (8,071 horse power) to the
manufactories. Progress has been so rapid for
some time that in 1874 the number of spindles and
that of the machines may be considered to have
doubled. — The value of the commercial move-
ment cân not be separately settled, but Saxony
must furnish a considerable share to the commerce
of the Zollverein. The city of Leipzig, notably,
is celebrated for its greaf fairs, where millions of
quintals of merchandise are gathered together;
this city, besides, is the centre of the German book
trade ; and it alone has 217 bookstores. – The
length of the state railways in 1874 was 108.8
miles of 73 kilometres, the cost of constructing
which, up to 1871, was 74,479,430 thalers; the
length of the private lines is 34.4 miles; the length
of the highways is 406 miles, and that of the roads
88} miles. The postoffice carried, in 1861, 12,083-
513 letters and packages, and in 1871, 28,819,176,
not including 1,042,381 and 1,841,940 local letters
in these years respectively; in 1861, 2,012,433, and,
in 1871, 2,902,698 money packages, containing
nearly $231,000,000 in 1861, and $279,000,000 in
1871. In 1861 the number of telegraphic dispatches
was 4,015 official, and 132,552 private. There are
three banks, two of which have the right to issue
bank notes. – Saxony is the country in which
saving is carried to the greatest extent. There is
a savings bank to every 2.5 square miles (in Eng-
land to every 9.4, in France to every 24, and in
Prussia to every 11); or, one to every 19,400 in-
habitants (in England to every 44,300, in France
to every 87,000, and in Prussia to every 38,257).
There is one depositor out of every 8 inhabitants
(in England out of every 18, in France 32, and in
| Prussia 31). The average amount on each depos-
itor's book has been 59.6 thalers (in England 184,
in France 80, and in Prussia. 80). Finally, divid-
ing the amount deposited among the whole popu.
lation, the average is 7.5 thalers to each inhab-
itant (10.2 in England, 2.5 in France, and 2.6 in
Prussia).” WILLIAM ROSCHER.
SCHOOLS. (See EDUCATION AND THE STATE.)
SCHURZ, Carl, was born near Cologne, Ger-
many, March 2, 1829. He took part in the revo-
lutionary troubles of 1848, came to the United
States in 1852, entered political life as a repub-
lican, and reached the grade of brigadier general
during the rebellion. He then settled down to
newspaper work, and in 1867 became editor of a
St. Louis newspaper. In Missouri he was one of
the leaders of the “liberal movement’’ (see LIBER-
AL REPUBLICAN PARTY), and was elected United
States Senator in 1869 for the full term. His abil-
* At the census of Dec. 1, 1880, the population of Saxony
was composed of 2,876,138 Lutherans; 72,946 Roman Cath-
olics; 1,467 German Catholics; 10,235 members of other
Christian sects; and 6,516 Jews. The clergy are chiefly paid
out of local rates and from endowments, the budget con-
tribution of the state to the department of ecclesiastical af-
fairs amounting to but 85,593 thalers, chiefly spent in admin-
istrative salaries. The government of the Protestant church
is intrusted to the Landes-Consistorium, or national Con-
sistory. Public education has reached the highest point in
Saxony, every child, without exception, partaking of its
benefits. By a law of June 6, 1835, attendance at school, or
under properly qualified teachers, was made compulsory.
The kingdom has the second largest university in Germany,
that of Leipzig, founded in 1409, and attended, on the aver-
age of recent years, by nearly three thousand students. –
The financial period extends over a term of two years. In
the financial accounts, both the revenue and expenditure are
divided into “ordinary" and “extraordinary,” the latter
representing income from state domains and disbursements
for public works. The ordinary revenue for each of the two
years 1882–3 was returned at 67,767,236 mark, and was bal-
anced by the expenditure. The extraordinary revenue for
each of the two years 1882–3, likewise balanced by the ex-
penditure, was returned at 4,014,905 mark. More than one-
half of the total revenue of the years 1881-2 was derived from
domains and state railways. The chief branch of expendi-
ture is that of interest and sinking fund of the public debt,
amounting to 31,593,138 mark, for the years 1882–3. The
debt was incurred almost entirely for the establishment and
purchase of a net-work of railways and telegraphs, and the
promotion of other works of public utility. The total debt
had risen on Jan. 1, 1881, to 669,583,425 mark, and in 1882 to
673,445,475. — The population of Saxony, by the census of
Dec. 1, 1880, was 2,972,805, comprising 1,445,330 males, and
1,527,475 females. The area, in English square miles, and
the population, of the Hauptmannschaften, was as follows
at each of the two enumerations of Dec. 1, 1875, and Dec. 1,
1880 : -

Area, in Population.
Kreis-Hauptmannschaften. Eng.: Sq.
Miles. Dec., 1875. Dec., 1880.
Dresden ------------------- 2,229 749,503 808,512
Leipzig------------------- 1,230 639,731 707,826
Bautzen ------------------- 1,232 339,203 351,326
Zwickau------------------- 2,086 1,031,905 | 1,105,141
Total.------------------ 6,777 2,760,342 2,972,805
—F. M.
SCOTLAND.
685
ity as a speaker and writer induced the republican
party to condone his offense of “liberalism,” and
he became secretary of the interior under Hayes.
— See Davis and Durrie's History of Missouri, 598;
Schurz's Speeches, 1865. e K.P. &
SCIENCE, SOCIAL.
SCOTLAND, the northern part of the island of
Great Britain. The length of the mainland, from
the Mull of Galloway, in latitude 54° 39' north, to
Dunnet Head, in Caithness-shire, in latitude 58°
40' north, is 278 miles; the breadth, from Buchan-
ness, in Aberdeenshire, in longitude 1° 41' west,
to the most westerly point in Ross-shire, in longi-
tude 5° 52' west, is 150 miles, while between the
firths of Forth and Clyde, the breadth is only
thirty miles. The area, including the islands, 186
in number, is 29,819.09 square miles, or about half
the size of the state of Michigan. Its population
in 1881 was 3,735,573; in 1811 it was but 1,805,864.
— Although small in size, thinly populated and
poor, Scotland, for many centuries, has occupied
an important place in the annals of western
Europe. Respectable historians have prefaced
the history of Scotland with an imaginary line
of kings descended from a fabulous daughter
of Pharaoh, called Scota, who, fleeing from
the plagues sent to punish her father’s obstinacy,
peopled Scotland. — The first reliable knowledge
we have of Scotland is derived from Julius
Caesar, who invaded the island in the year 55 B. C.
Julius Agricola first explored its northern coasts
with his fleet, and informed the Romans that
Britain was an island. In the 80th year of the
Christian era, Agricola led the legions of Rome
across the line which in later days marked the
boundary between England and Scotland, and his
son-in-law, Tacitus, in recording his achievements,
first made Caledonia familiar to the Roman world,
and brought a new country within the scope of
authentic history.—Although the Romans effected
no permanent conquest beyond the neck of land
between the firths of Forth and Clyde, yet they
more than once pushed their armies far north-
ward. There are more known Roman ramparts,
forts, camps and roads in Scotland than in all the
rest of the world—vestiges of a close, continued
and doubtful warfare. The Caledonians, who so
long and so effectually kept the conquerors of the
world at bay, are described as barbarous and war-
like, with red hair and large limbs, and rugged as
the land they inhabited. They painted their bodies,
(See SoCIAL SCIENCE.)
and could stand great hardships. Their arms were
bows and arrows, small shields, short spears, and
pointless swords; they fought also with chariots
drawn swiftly by small horses. They were polyg-
amous and idolaters, their religion being druid-
ical. The name Caledonia, although used by the
Romans, had no place among the natives, whose
name for Scotland was Albin. The Roman civil-
ization had no influence on Scotland except as it
reached that country in after times from the con-
tinent. — When the Romans withdrew, the in-
habitants of Scotland consisted of the Romanized
Britons of Strathclyde on the south, the Dalriads, .
or the Scots of Ireland, on the west, and, largest of
all, the kingdom of the Picts, embracing the whole
of Scotland northward and eastward from the
firth of Forth. The archaeological hosts have long
fought over the Picts. Were they Celts, or Teu-
tons? Were they the same as the Caledonians of
Tacitus, or the Scots of Ireland? What language
did they speak? These are questions which will
probably never be settled. — The most important
event in the history of the Picts was their con-
version to Christianity, in the sixth century, by St.
Columba and other missionaries from Ireland,
who settled in the isle of Iona. — When the writers
of the early Christian centuries speak of Scotia,
they refer to Ireland. The Mull of Cantyre, in
Argyleshire, is only twelve miles from the county
of Antrim, and the Scots spread in great numbers
into Argyle and the western isles, so that there
came to be two Scotias, and, prior to the twelfth
century, a Scot might have meant a native of Ire-
land or of Scotland. The colony of Irish Scots
in Albania, or present Scotland, continued to en-
large till it became a powerful and compact state,
and the term Scotia gradually became dissociated
from its original country, and attached entirely to
the country which now bears the name. — How it
came about, history does not state; but near the
middle of the ninth century the Pictish kingdom
disappears from history, and Kenneth MacAlpin,
king of the Scots, is found reigning over its people.
It is not unlikely that the barbarous Picts suc-
cumbed to the superior aggressive civilization of
the Scots. At this time the Celts were known as
a lettered people, and it is not improbable the
Picts felt honored in accepting the Dalriadic sov-
ereign as their own. — Scotland was long subject
to incursions from the great Viking fleets of
Scandinavia, and from the fourth to the tenth
century large numbers of the Northmen settled
on the coasts, and mingled with the existing pop-
ulation or gradually crowded them westward. The
population of Scotland is probably of the most
composite origin of any nation in Europe, a fact
which has, no doubt, greatly influenced their na-
tional characteristics. Picts, Francs, Angles,
Scoto-Galwegians, Saxons, Celts and Norsemen,
all contributed to make the Scotsmen of to-day. —
After Kenneth, the first king of the united Scots
and Picts, followed a number of royal successors,
such as Gregory the Great, Duncan, and Macbeda
or Macbeth, around whom has gathered a most in-
teresting history; but unfortunately it is largely
mythical. — The first monarch of whose corona-
tion we hear, was Malcolm III., son of Duncan,
known as Malcolm Canmore, who was crowned at
Scone, in 1057. His wife, the good Queen Mar-
garet, or St. Margaret, had a greater influence on
the destinies of Scotland than even her husband.
Through her influence the “Lord's Day” was first
sanctified from labor, and she did much to intro-
duce a higher civilization. — In the tenth year of
Malcolm Canmore's reign occurred the Norman
686
SCOTLAND.
conquest of England. The subjection of the south-
ern kingdom by the restless and ambitious Norman
opened a serious future for the Scots, and for cen-
turies they had a ceaseless struggle to prevent their
absorption by their aggrandizing and powerful
neighbors. — The system of the Celts, even to
their latest times, was patriarchal, and not feudal.
The Highlander fought for his chief as the head of
his family or clan, and not because he was his land-
ed superior. For the same reason the early Scots
fought for their king, who, indeed, was oftener |
called king of Scots than king of Scotland. — The
Normans gradually introduced the feudal usages
of the continent. Under them the king was theo-
retically the owner of all the land. Those culti-
vating the lands held them from some lord or
superior, who in turn held them from the king or
some other superior who did so. Each subordi-
nate had to do homage to his superior for the lands
he held, for he held them solely through the special
favor of his lord, who, in return, had a right to
call for military and other service. The king of
Scots had estates in England, and for these, under
the feudal system, had to do homage to the king
of England as his superior. The English soon
claimed that he did homage as king of Scotland to
the king of England as his superior, and that the
crown of Scotland was vassal to the crown of Eng-
land. Notwithstanding that folios on folios were
written by the English to prove their king lord
paramount of Scotland, the Scots contested the
claim for generations in many a costly war. —
After Malcolm Canmore came Donald Bane, Dun-
can II., Edgar, Alexander I., and David I. The
last named was the third son of St. Margaret, and
succeeded his brother Alexander in 1124. As a
true son of his good mother, he had a great in-
fluence on the condition of Scotland. In his reign
the old traditionary usages were first superseded
by written laws. He established the bishoprics of
Dunkeld, Moray, Aberdeen, Ross, Caithness,
Brechin, Dunblane and Galloway, and built the
abbeys of Holyrood, Melrose, Jedburgh, Kelso,
Dryburgh, Newbattle and Kinloss. He so lavished
the lands of the crown on the Catholic church that
King James I. said that “he was ane Sair sanct
for the crown.” David reigned twenty-nine years.
He was all to Scotland that Alfred was to Eng-
land. After him came his grandson, Malcolm IV.,
who was not twelve years old when he began to
reign. He was king twelve years, but leaves no
special mark on history. — He was succeeded, in
1165, by William I., surnamed the “Lion,” who
was taken captive at the siege of Alnwick. King
Henry granted him his release only after he had
signed an obligation of absolute homage to the
English king for Scotland, and placed the Scots
under feudal subjection to England, as if a proud
and warlike people could be handed over by a
slip of parchment signed under duress. Richard
the Lionhearted, of England, for 10,000 marks,
released the Scots from all the conditions extorted
by his father from William. — William the Lion
was succeeded by his son, Alexander II., a mon-
arch of great wisdom and ability, who was inturn
succeeded by his son, Alexander III., whose acci-
dental death left the crown to an infant grand-
daughter, Margaret, the daughter of the king of
Norway, who died in one of the Orkneys, while
returning to Scotland. The death of Alexander
III. closed a period of prosperity, which the
kingdom did not again enjoy for five hundred
years. No fewer than ten competitors for the
crown appeared, the chief being John Baliol and
Robert Bruce, grandfather of the great Bruce.
The matter was referred to Edward I. of Eng-
land, who decided in favor of Baliol, stipulating
that he should do homage to him as his feu-
dal superior. The case was under discussion and
consideration for eighteen months, and the de-
cision in favor of Baliol was no doubt a correct
one according to the law of hereditary descent as
now established. — As Edward claimed to be lord
paramount of Scotland, so the king of France
made a like claim on England, and summoned
Edward as his vassal to appear and do homage
before him. King Philip even fixed the day when
Edward should appear in Paris. Edward pre-
pared for war, and summoned his vassal Baliol to
his aid. In the war between England and France
Scotland saw her opportunity, and not only re-
fused to aid England, but formed a league offen-
sive and defensive with France. This was the
first of that ancient league which for three centu-
ries bound the kingdoms of France and Scotland
in the closest intimacy against their common
enemy, England, and had a great influence, not
only on the politics of Scotland, but even on its
language and manners.-The Scots invaded Eng-
land, which so exasperated Edward that he de-
cided to concentrate his force on Scotland, and
marched northward as far as Elgin with a great
army, taking Berwick, Edinburgh, Stirling, Aber-
deen, and all the other strongholds of importance.
From the abbey of Scone he carried to Westmin-
ster the stone of destiny, the palladium of Scotland.
It was enshrined in the chair on which the kings
of Scotland were crowned. The Scots reverently
believed it to be the very stone which Jacob used
as a pillow at Bethel, and that it was brought to
Scone by Pharaoh's daughter Scota, from whom
the Scottish kings were descended. Wherever
that stone might go, it was believed the Scots
would be supreme, a belief which was confirmed .
when, afterward, James VI. of Scotland was
crowned in Westminster king of England. Ed-
ward I., as he marched back, garrisoned the strong-
holds with English soldiers, and many of the old
castles in Scotland must be assigned to this period,
1296, and their style of architecture is properly
called Edwardian. The Scots found the English
planted in large numbers in strongholds in their
very midst, and harassing them in many most ex-
asperating ways. While the nobility, the natural
leaders of the nation, had sworn allegiance to Ed-
ward, the smaller gentry and the common people
sullenly awaited an opportunity for revenge. —
At this juncture appeared the renowned Sir Will-
SCOTLAND.
687
iam Wallace of Ellerslie, not only a brave soldier,
but a man of great political and military genius.
Gathering around him a band of heroic spirits, he
harassed the English till his successes enabled him
to collect an army of some 40,000 men, with
which he totally defeated a larger English army
under Surrey at Stirling bridge. This battle of
Stirling bridge gave great encouragement to the
Scots, as it showed that their haughty neighbors
were not invincible, and being the first pitched bat-
tle of importance between the two nations did much
to inspire and render permanent that international
animosity which has disappeared only in recent
years. After defending his country with heroism
for several years, Wallace was betrayed into the
hands of Edward, who caused him to be executed
in London in 1305. His head was placed on Lon-
don bridge, and a quarter of his body exposed at
New Castle, Berwick, Stirling and Perth, respect-
ively. These bloody trophies, far from frighten-
ing the Scots into submission, aroused their wrath
and strengthened their courage. They only want-
ed a leader to attempt summary revenge. In the
meantime, Edward, believing he had conquered
Scotland, took steps to incorporate it with Eng-
Jand. The crown was to be represented in Scotland
by a governor or lieutenant, to be assisted by a
council. Scotland was also to be represented in the
English parliament by ten representatives; three
were to he selected by the prelates, two by the
abbots, two by the earls, two by the barons, and
two by the community or commonalty. When
parliament met, an ordinance was passed for the
government of Scotland, complete in all its details.
Edward showed a broad statesmanship in all this,
and a desire to propitiate the Scots. Being seventy
years of age, he hoped for a peaceful close of his
stormy life. But it was too late. The Scots had
seen the effect of Norman power in England; and
Stirling bridge, Falkirk and the Quartering of
Wallace, were not to be so easily forgotten. – In
February, 1306, Robert Bruce, lord of Annan-
dale, was missed from Edward’s court, and it was
found that he had left for Scotland. He was
now thirty-two years old, and had been carefully
trained in the English court. On his way north
he met Comyn, his only rival for the crown of
Scotland, in the church of the Grey Friars, Dum-
fries, and during a heated controversy stabbed
him with his dagger. He and his followers then
attacked the English judges at that time sitting in
Dumfries, and drove them across the border. The
die was cast, the Rubicon was crossed, and there
was no retreat for Bruce. The tidings spread
rapidly all over Scotland, that Bruce was in the
field against the English, and the people rose like
One man. In March of the same year he was
crowned king in the chapel royal of Scone. King
Edward promptly determined on such an invasion
of Scotland as would forever suppress all opposi-
tion. The flower of England's chivalry, with all
the fighting power of England, was enlisted in
the cause; and the king, broken down as he was,
exacted a promise that his body should be carried
with the army till Scotland was subdued. Some
of the nobles of Scotland and Bruce's nearest
relatives were executed as traitors, and their bod-
ies quartered; but the Scots were not a servile
people, to be cowed by such cruelties, which only
served to arouse them to greater deeds of daring.
King Edward died within sight of Scotland, on
July 7, 1307. — The first undertakings of Bruce
were unfortunate; but the death of King Edward
proved a favorable turning point in the destiny of
Scotland, for his son, Edward II., was no such
leader as a contest like that demanded. — June
24, 1314, is the most momentous day in Scot-
tish history, the day on which the battle of Ban-
nockburn was fought. The Scots had between
30,000 and 40,000 men, while the English had
100,000. They had, according to agreement, to
relieve the English garrison in Stirling castle be-
fore St. John's day, or it was to capitulate; and it
therefore behooved them to attack the Scots in a
field which the latter had selected in front of
Stirling. The generalship of Bruce and the brav-
ery of his men inflicted on England, that day,
a defeat and a humiliation greater than ever befell
her in all her history before or since, with the
exception of the battle of Hastings. Her mighty
host became a very chaos. The confusion of their
flight was irremediable. The booty obtained was
very rich, and articles taken at Bannockburn were
treasured as heirlooms for centuries. An immense
sum was also acquired by the Scots as ransoms for
their noble captives.— The battle of Bannockburn
marks an important epoch in Scottish history.
The patriotic feelings excited and the glory ac-
quired on that day consolidated the nation as it
had never been before. It engraved on the Scot-
tish heart a pride of their independence as a nation,
which for centuries prevented a union with Eng-
land; and to this day, like Thermopylae and Mara-
thon, it fires many a heart with an enthusiasm for
liberty. The war continued for fourteen years
longer, during which time England was twelve
times invaded, and ravaged with fire and sword;
and Edward III. was compelled to ratify a treaty
in 1328, in which the claims of Bruce and the in-
dependence of the kingdom were acknowledged.
— David II. was only eight years old at his father's
death, in 1829, and Randolph, earl of Murray, was
appointed regent. Edward Baliol, son of John
Baliol, being assisted by Edward III. of England,
claimed the throne, and was crowned at Scone
in 1332. David, being a mere boy, was sent to
France, and Baliol, being defeated soon afterward
by the supporters of the Bruce dynasty, fled into
Pngland. An active warfare continued along the
borders, the Scots making a diversion in favor
of their ally, France, on whose soil the English
king about this time gained the famous battles
of Crecy and Poitiers. David returned from
France in 1341, and though but eighteen years
of age, he at once put himself at the head of
his forces, and while invading England was tak-
en prisoner, and remained one for eleven years.
He reigned thirty-nine years, and was succeeded
688
SCOTIAND.
by Robert II. (1371–90), grandson of Bruce of
Bannockburn, being the son of his daughter Mar-
jory, and Walter, lord high steward of Scotland,
whence came the name of the Stuart dynasty, of
which he was the first. Probably no regal line
ever encountered 'so many misfortunes as did the
royal house of Stuart, of more than one of whom
it has truly been said that they never learned and
never forgot. He was succeeded by his son, Rob-
ert III. (1390–1406), who being weak-minded, the
government devolved upon the duke of Albany.
He killed the king's oldest son, David, and his
second son, James, fleeing to France, was cap-
tured by the English, and detained as a prisoner
for nineteen years, during the greater part of
which time Albany ruled as regent. It was now
over one hundred years after Bannockburn when
James I., being ransomed, began his reign, in
1424. He was an accomplished prince, poet
and legislator, and made many necessary reforms
in the administration of the country, establish-
ing the court of session and other tribunals.
He with a firm hand checked the powerful and
turbulent nobility, and did much to introduce law
and order. He was cruelly assassinated (1437) in
the midst of his beneficent work, leaving his son,
James II., then a boy of but six years of age, to
succeed him. He was a brave and vigorous ruler,
and was killed by the bursting of a cannon at the
siege of Roxburgh, in 1460. — James III., his son,
was crowned when seven years old. He was un-
popular with the nobility, who rebelled against
him, and persuading his son, a youth of sixteen,
to join them, the king was defeated and slain in
the battle of Sanchieburn in 1488.— His rebellious
son succeeded, as James IV., in the sixteenth year
of his age. In 1489 he married Margaret, eldest
daughter of Henry VII. of England, and from
this marriage eventually came the union of the
crowns of England and Scotland. This Margaret,
daughter of Henry VII., being great-grandmother
of James VI. of Scotland, on the issue of Henry.
VIII. becoming extinct by the death of Elizabeth,
James was next heir. James IV., desirous of as-
sisting his ally, France, declared war against Henry
VIII. of England, and was slain on Flodden Field,
in 1513, where Scotland suffered the greatest de-
feat in her national annals. Twelve earls, thirteen
lords, five eldest sons of noblemen, and an im-
mense number of barons, fell with their king, and
the land became one house of mourning. — At the
death of James IV. his son James V. was but five
months old, and the office of regent was conferred
on his cousin John, duke of Albany. James first
married Magdalen, daughter of Francis.I., king
of France, who dying without issue, he married
Mary of Lorraine, daughter of the duke of Guise.
By her he had two sons, who died young, and in
1542 the queen was delivered of a daughter, the
famous but unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots.
When she was seven days old her father died of
a broken heart, caused by the mutinous conduct
of his nobles, and the defeat of his army at Sol-
way Moss. When told of the birth of his daugh-
ter, the dying man is said to have murmured, “It
came with a lass, and it will go with a lass,” in
allusion to the throne coming to the Stuarts by
the daughter of Bruce. Little did he think that
the son of that lass, now but seven days old, would
sit on the English throne. James W. was affec-
tionately remembered by his people as the “King
of the Commons,” and he long held a place in lit-
erary renown as the “People's Poet.” — It will
help us somewhat to realize the troublous charac-
ter of the times and the unhappy condition of
Scotland, to state that, from 1390, when Robert III.
began to reign, to 1567, when James VI., thirteen
months old, succeeded his mother Queen Mary, a
period of 177 years, every king of Scotland was
succeeded by a minor. During all those years the
nation was shaken by the continued quarrels of
the nobles. They were a haughty, fierce and tur-
bulent class, those Hamiltons, Huntleys, Doug-
lasses, Albanys, Atholes, Arrans and Argyles.
Combining the most indomitable courage with an
utter want of principle, they seldom hesitated to
endanger the interests of their sovereign, and even
the interests of their country, to avenge fancied
insults to their family, or to carry on personal
feuds. Still, the country was advancing in wealth,
and gradually taking an influential place among
the powers of Europe, notwithstanding the clouds
of misfortune which had encircled the personal his-
tory of her Jameses. “Battle, murder and death
had swept away four of them; the fifth died of a
spirit broken down by the weight of calamities.”
— During the latter part of the reign of James V.
Protestantism began to make considerable head-
way in Scotland. Although she had for centuries
been a faithful daughter of the Roman Catholic
church, she was so far removed from Rome that
she received but little of that attention bestowed
so assiduously on the powerful countrics of con-
tinental Europe. On this account her clergy had
received but little supervision, and had become
very ignorant and very corrupt. For this reason
the hold of the Catholic church upon the moral
sense of the people was very weak, and it was not
a difficult task to alienate them from the papal see.
Under Henry VIII. England had become a base
of operations whence those who favored the Prot-
estant faith could influence Scotland. Attempts
made by Cardinal Beaton, the Catholic primate,
to crush out the spirit of inquiry by persecution,
not only failed in their object, but had a contrary
effect. —With the rise of Protestantism,there came
a party in Scotland which preferred an alliance
with England to the ancient league with France;
and by and by two well-defined parties existed, the
Protestant or English party, and the Catholic or
French party. The Protestant party hoped to unite
the crowns of England and Scotland by the mar-
riage of the Princess Mary, the young Queen of
Scots, to Edward, son of Henry VIII., and they
might have succeeded had it not been for theim-
perious conduct of Henry, who so roused the Scot-
tish pride that the Catholic party gained the con-
sent of the nation to her marriage with the dauphin
SCOTLAND.
689
of France, an event which brought upon her and
upon Scotland many trying calamities. Mary,
through the influence of her mother and the French
party, was sent to France to be educated, when
only six years old. In 1558 she married Francis,
then dauphin, afterward king, of France; but, he
dying without issue, she returned to Scotland, and
in July, 1565, married Henry Stuart, known as
Lord Darnley. It was a fearful mistake, for there
was scarcely the vestige of a good quality to be
found in his character. He was vicious, vainglo-
rious, presumptuous—a fool. On June 19, 1566,
a Son Was born, who was afterward James VI. of
Scotland and James I. of England. Darnley was
murdered in February, 1567, and in May of the
same year Mary married the earl of Bothwell, who
was generally believed to have directed the mur-
der. The nobles soon after drove Bothwell Out of
the kingdom, and, having confined Mary in Loch-
leven castle, compelled her to abdicate in favor of
her infant son, with her half-brother, the earl of
Murray, as regent. She escaped from Lochleven,
and rallied a powerful force around her, which
was defeated at Langside by the regent Murray.
Mary then fled to England, claiming the protec-
tion of her cousin, Queen Elizabeth, but this prin-
cess ungenerously confined her in different prisons
for eighteen years, and then the accomplished and
beautiful, but most indiscreet and unfortunate,
Mary Queen of Scots, being accused of conspiring
against the life of Elizabeth, died with heroic
bravery on the scaffold at Fotheringay castle, on
Feb. 8, 1587. There is probably no instance in
history where one so able, lovely and accomplished
became to such a marked degree the victim of
untoward circumstances. Her life proved a bur-
den to herself and a misfortune to her people. —
From the time of her father’s death to that of her
own, the religious aspect of Scotland had under-
gone a most wonderful change. While she was in
France, and her mother, Mary of Lorraine, was
regent, the conflict between the Catholic and the
Protestant faith was intense. During those event-
ful years, when individual convictions were strug-
gling with the traditions of centuries, and the re-
ligious thoughts and emotions of the people were
stirred to their depths, there appeared upon the
Scene a man of no ordinary power, the fearless,
stern, eloquent reformer, John Knox. His life
and Work have made a more marked impression
on Scotland than those of any other man, and no
grander figure can be found in the history of
Protestantism in Great Britain. It can hardly be
doubted that Knox saved Protestantism in Scot-
land; and in saving it in Scotland he saved it in
England; for, if Scotland had been Catholic, it
would have furnished the great Catholic powers
of the continent a base of operations against Eng-
land, and in all probability, under such circum-
stances, a revolution would soon have driven Eliz-
abeth from the throne, and England would have
been reclaimed to the Catholic church. But Knox
breathed into the commons of his country a spirit
which lives to-day, a spirit of individuality and
163 VOL. III. — 44
independence which taught them that the hum-
blest peasant, as an immortal soul, is equal in the
sight of God to the proudest peer. They may
have been hard, narrow and fanatical, but, “heated
red-hot in the furnace of a new faith,” they could
never again be trodden under the foot of tyranny.
Protestantism in England proceeded from the king
downward, but in Scotland it originated and de-
veloped in the bosom of the people themselves.
Many of the nobility joined the Protestant ranks
from mercenary motives, but the common people
did so from their convictions of right. Knox tried
to have the lands and revenues of the church set
apart for educational purposes, but the greed of
the nobility was too much even for him. The
year before Mary returned from France, 1560, a
meeting of the estates abolished forever in Scot-
land the power and jurisdiction of the papal see,
and made the confession of faith drawn up by
Enox and his associates the standard of faith in
Scotland. — Mary on her return failed to under-
stand the true state of affairs. She had been edu-
cated in a wrong school to meet in a conciliatory
spirit the public feeling of Scotland as it now was.
If she had but realized that Scotland could not be
brought back to the Catholic church, and con-
formed herself to the necessities of her condition,
she might have reigned a happy queen over a
happy people; but that was not to be. — Mary’s
son, James VI., had been crowned king in 1567,
when but thirteen months old. His uncle, earl
of Murray, who was appointed regent, being as-
sassinated in 1570, the office was held in succes-
sion by the earls of Lennox, Mar and Morton,
when the king took the reins into his own hands.
During the government of the regents the kingdom
was distracted by civil wars, which continued
largely to partake of a religious character. Prot-
estantism retained its supremacy, and Presbyte-
rianism became the established religion of the
country. At three o'clock, Thursday morning,
March 24, 1603, Queen Elizabeth died; and, a feat
unmatched in that age, Sir Robert Cary galloped
into Holyrood Court on Saturday night and
wakened King James to announce to him that he
was monarch of England, Scotland, France and
Ireland. The two nations, which for centuries
had been bitter enemies, and had crossed swords
on a hundred bloody fields, were now united under
one head. On the 5th of April James set out for
London, and as he journeyed leisurely through
England he was received with enthusiasm every-
where. He arrived in London on the 22d of May,
to take possession of the government of his new
state, and at this point ends the history of Scot-
land as a distinct kingdom. — The domestic con-
dition of Scotland was but slowly influenced by
the union of the crowns, but its external relations
underwent a radical change. The ancient league
with France, though never formally abrogated,
was now and forever after a dead letter, while it
was a matter of pride to the Scots that their king
now ruled over their “auld enemy,” England.
The national institutions of Scotland remained un-
690
SCOTLAND.
touched, so that from this source there was noth-
ing to arouse their national jealousy. The par-
liament still remained in Edinburgh, and #.
was no occasion for the nobility and landed gentry
to go to London, as was the case in 1707, when the
union of parliaments took place. However, as
the way was now open, a large number of Scots
flocked southward to better their condition, and
they generally.succeeded. Political economy was
not understood then, and the prosperity of the
Scots was supposed to be at the cost of the Eng-
lish, and in consequence they were much disliked
and much maligned. —Immediately after the ac-
cession of James, steps were taken for an incor-
porating union of the kingdoms, which signally
failed. It was proposed that the new state should
be called “Great Britain,” a name which the king
himself claimed to have suggested. A decision by
the courts, that all persons born in Scotland aft-
er the union of the crowns in 1603 were entitled
to all the privileges of Englishmen, did more
than anything else to unite the two peoples. An
attempt was made to force the church of Scot-
land to adopt the episcopal form of government;
but it failed, and James gave it up as a hopeless
task “to make that stubborn kirk stoop more to
the English pattern.” — For centuries Scotsmen
found their native land too small for their ener-
gies, and both before and after this period, under
Gustavus, Frederick and Peter the Great, as well
as in the Low Countries, France and even in Tur-
key, they in large numbers attained distinction;
and, now that the era of colonization and com-
merce had dawned, they were not slow to avail
themselves of its opportunities. This was first
manifested in the settlement of New Scotland, or
Nova Scotia. — Charles I., on his accession, learn-
ing nothing from the past, commanded the use of
Laud’s liturgy in the churches in Scotland, as “the
only form which we think fit to be used in God’s
public worship in this our kingdom.” An outbreak
was of course unavoidable, and tumults arose in
various parts of the kingdom. Under the lead of
Archibald Johnston of Warriston, the solemn
league and covenant was renewed. In 1638 it was
signed in Greyfriar's churchyard amid the wildest
enthusiasm, some drawing their own blood, which
they used for ink. It has been estimated that a
large proportion of the adult male community of
Scotland subscribed their adherence to it, as copies
were placed in all the churches and other public
places. The cause of their national religion had
come to be considered as one with that of their
national independence. — The close of the thirty-
years war released thousands of Scottish soldiers
experienced in the wars of Europe, who now re-
turned home and contributed not a little to the
important part which Scotland took in the great
Qivil wars of the seventeenth century. — After the
restoration of Charles II. to the throne, in 1660,
unmindful of the failures of his father and grand-
father in a similar attempt, he tried to force epis-
copacy on the Scottish church, but he met with
most ignominious failure. — The estates of Scot-
land were not slow to indorse the revolution of
1689, and to tender the crown of Scotland to Will-
iam and Mary, declaring that King James VII.
had “forefaulted” all right to the crown. The
attempt to compel the Highlanders to conform
to the new state of affairs resulted in one of the
most cruel and treacherous transactions which
has ever blackened history. It is known as the
massacre of Glencoe, and occurred in 1692, leav.
ing a stain upon the name of William of Orange,
which his admirers have found it hard to wipe
out. — Now that the activity and enterprise of the
Scots could no longer find a field in the wars of
their country against England, or in the greater
contests of continental Europe, they began to
make themselves felt in the field of commerce.
Wm. Paterson founded the bank of England in
1695, while, some years later, John Law drove
France wild with his Mississippi company and
other financial bubbles. The Darien and African
companies were products of the same period, all
showing the active though misguided enterprise of
the Scottish mind at that time. — On the accession
of Queen Anne, in 1702, the first business of im-
portance which came up was to incorporate the
union of the two kingdoms. The succession to
the throne and the union of the two parliaments
were readily agreed upon, but the English com-
missioners would not agree to allow the Scots to
participate equally with them in the foreign and
colonial trade, and the negotiations were a failure.
In April, 1706, a new set of commissioners, repre-
Senting both kingdoms, met at Whitehall; in two
short months their labors were finished; and SO
much and so important business has probably
never been concluded in so short a time. The
union was bitterly opposed in Scotland; but, after
nine months' discussion, on Oct. 16, 1707, an act
ratifying its terms was passed in the estates by a
vote of 110 to 69. At this time the population of
England was about 6,000,000, while that of Scot-
land was probably not over 1,000,000. Nothing
so much reconciled the Scots to the union as the
prospect of equality in trading privileges and rec-
iprocity of citizenship. — George I., the first of
the Hanoverian line, was proclaimed king On Aug.
5, 1714, at the market cross of Edinburgh, amid
apparent quietness through the whole country.
Next year, however, the chiefs of the Highlands,
under the earl of Mar, commenced a Jacobite in-
surrection in the north, which, although encour-
aged by the appearance in Scotland of the pre-
tender, the son of James VII., was speedily Sup-
pressed. This added, greatly to the stability of
the new government, which now attempted to dis-
arm the Highlands, and in the interests of peace
constructed a system of excellent roads through
that heretofore almost impassable region. The
Highlanders were irritated by and restless under
the industrial civilization of the Saxon, and when
Prince Charles Edward, “Bonnie Prince Charlie,”
the oldest son of the pretender, under promise of
help from France, raised his standard at Glenfin-
nan, in August, 1745, many a chieftain With his
SCOTLAND.
691
clan rallied around him. The Jacobite army,
Imarching southward, after defeating Gen. Cope
at Preston Pans, entered Edinburgh in triumph.
With an army of but 6,000 men, remarkable to
say, the prince pushed as far as Derby, only two
days' march from London, when the approach of
the duke of Cumberland with a larger force com-
pelled him to retreat. On April 16, 1746, his half-
starved, exhausted army was routed on the field
of Culloden, and with it forever fell the house of
Stuart. — The British government, unwilling to
lose the benefit of the fighting qualities of the
Highlanders, organized Highland regiments, with
Highland officers and Highland uniforms, nine of
which are still in the British army. These reg-
iments have become famous for their never-fail-
ing bravery, shown on many a well-fought field in
every quarter of the globe. The Gaelic-speaking
population of Scotland in 1881 numbered only
231,594, or 6.20 of the whole. — For years the
union was very unpopular in Scotland, and it was
some time before its beneficent effects began to be
felt. In recent times the prosperity of Scotland
Inas been such as could never have been possible
without the union. Although occasionally at the
present time complaints are made that Scotland
receives neither her share of parliamentary atten-
tion, nor her proportion of disbursements from
the imperial treasury, yet no voice is ever heard
expressing a doubt as to the beneficial results of
the union. — While Scotland is an integral part
of the United Kingdom, she still retains her own
courts and practices of law, and her own church
government. At the head of the judiciary is the
court of session, which consists of thirteen judges,
and is supreme in civil cases. Five of its judges
comprise the court of justiciary, which is supreme
in criminal cases. The full court sits in Edin-
burgh, but circuit courts are held in the principal
cities of the country. Criminals are indicted by
the lord advocate or his deputies, and are tried at
the expense of the state. In case of the lord ad-
vocate failing to prosecute, any private person
may do so on his own responsibility. Criminal
cases are tried by a jury of fifteen persons, a major-
ity only being necessary for a verdict; and when
the case is not clear, a verdict of “not proven ‘’
may be brought in. Appeals from the Scottish
courts go to the house of lords. The subordi-
nate courts in the counties are held by justices of
the peace, and the sheriffs, the functions of the
latter being judicial in Scotland, and not ministe-
rial, as in England. — In the cities the chief magis-
trate is not called the mayor, but the “lord pro-
vost,” and the aldermen are called “baillies.” In
many particulars the law as well as the titles and
duties of public functionaries differ wholly from
those of England and the United States, and show
distinct traces of the ancient league with France.
— The Scottish peers elect sixteen of their number
to represent them in the house of lords; but, in
addition, many Scottish peers, being also British
peers, sit in the house of lords in their own right,
and without an election. Scotland is represented
in the house of commons by sixty members, of
whom thirty-two represent the counties, twenty-
six the burghs, and two the universities. Fifty
out of the sixty members belong to the liberal
party. The strength of the bodies dissenting from
the established church has probably much to do
with Scotland being so overwhelmingly liberal in
politics. The number of electors on the registers
in 1881 were: in the counties, 98,328; in the burghs,
216,851. — The established church of Scotland is
Presbyterian in form of church government. It
embraces but a minority of the people, two non-
established Presbyterian churches, the Free and
United Presbyterian, having together more adher-
ents than the state church. Some sanguine minds
think the day is not far distant when the church
of Scotland will be disestablished, and all the
Presbyterian bodies of the country be united in
One grand Presbyterian church, the church of al-
most all the people of Scotland. The Free church
left the established church in 1843 under the lead
of the celebrated Dr. Thomas Chalmers, and the
result was another church and manse in almost ev-
ery parish in Scotland. — For centuries Scotland
had a system of national education superior to that
of any country in Europe. As early as 1262, Master
Thomas Bennum writes himself as ‘‘ Rector Schol-
arum de Aberdeen,” and in 1478 the master of the
“Grammar Schules of Aberdene” had a salary of
£5 annually. John Knox and his associates, 300
years ago, Ordained that there should be a school
in every parish, and there is no doubt but that
to her parish school system is to be attributed the
high place her sons have commanded in the fields
of religion, literature and science. It was truth-
fully said of Scotland that every Scot had a mouth-
ful of learning, but not a mouthful of meal. The
imperial parliament has, in a recent educational
act, wholly changed the system in Scotland by
providing for local School boards and compulsory
education. The number receiving education in
1881 was 720,099, being 19.28 of the whole pop-
ulation. Of those between the ages of five and
fifteen no fewer than 79 per cent. were receiving
education, which will compare favorably with
the school statistics of any state in the American
Union. There are four universities in Scotland,
viz., St. Andrew’s, Glasgow, Aberdeen and Edin-
burgh, founded, respectively, in 1411, 1450, 1494
and 1582. They are more popular in their privi-
leges than those of England, and were framed after
the pattern of the continental universities of the
fifteenth century. During the session of 1880–81
there were 6,619 students of all classes in at-
tendance. The graduates elect two members of
parliament; those of Aberdeen and Glasgow elect-
ing one, and those of Edinburgh and St. Andrew’s
the other. — Out of 20,000,000 acres of land in
Scotland only 5,000,000 can be cultivated, yet her
agriculture is not surpassed by any country in the
world. Her deposits of iron and coal are very
rich, and her shipbuilding and manufacturing in-
terests are very large. The tonnage built on the
Clyde is larger than that on any other river on the
692 SCOTT.
SCRATCHING.
globe, and Glasgow is the second city of impor-
tance in the British empire. — There has been a
great reduction in pauperism and crime during
the last ten years. In 1872 there were 117,611
paupers, while in 1881 there were only 97,787; in
like manner the number of convicted criminals
fell from 2,259 in 1872 to 1,832 in 1881, showing
a remarkable diminution of crime as well as pau-
perism accompanying an increase of population.
— Notwithstanding the barren soil, the inhospi-
table skies and the scant population of Scotland,
few nations, since the days of ancient Greece,
have produced so many names illustrious as his-
torians, philosophers, scholars, essayists, novelists,
scientists, theologians and poets.”—BIBLIOGRA-
PHY. The historical works of Buchanan; Hume,
Lond., 1657; Guthrie, 10 vols., Lond., 1767; Dal-
rymple, 2 vols., Edinb., 1776–9; Robertson, 2
vols., Lond., 1758 ; Pinkerton, 2 vols., Lond.,
1797; Heron, 6 vols., Pesth, 1794–9; Laing, 4
vols., Lond., 1804, new ed., 1819; Chalmers, 2
vols., Edinb., 1807–10; Mackintosh, 2 editions,
Lond., 1822. Further, Tytler, History of Scotland,
8 vols., Edinb., 1826–34, 3d ed., 1845; Lindau,
Geschächte Schottlands, 4 vols., Dresd., 1827; Scott,
History of Scotland, 2 vols., Lond., 1830; Cham-
bers, Domestic Annals of Scotland, from the Ref.
* Scotland has given to the world more than its share of
genius, a fact largely attributable to its Social, religious and
political conditions. We may mention — 1. Poets. John
Barbour, Sir David Lyndsay, George Buchanan, Dr. Arthur
Johnston, Gavin Douglass, Allan Ramsay, Robert Blair,
James McPherson, John Logan. Dr. James Beattie, James
Thömson (of the “Seasons"), Thomas Campbell, John
Skinner, Lady Anne Barnard, Jane Elliott, John Leyden,
William Laidlaw, John Graham, James Montgomery, Mrs.
Joanna Baillie, Robert Burns, Baroness Nairn, Robert
Tannahill, James Hogg (the “Ettrick Shepherd”) Allan
Cunningham, William Motherwell, William Edmonstoun
Aytoun, J. Ballantine, Robert Buchanan. — 2. Wovelists.
Tobias George Smollett, Sir Walter Scott, Elizabeth Hamil-
ton, John Galt, Susan Edmonstoune Ferrier, Mrs. Christian
'Isabel Johnstone, Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, George Mac-
Donald, William Black, etc. — 3. Theologians. John Knox,
Ebenezer Erskine, Ralph Erskine, George Campbell, John
Brown, Andrew Thomson, Thomas Chalmers, Edward Ir-
ving, Robert S. Candlish, Thomas Guthrie, Norman Mac-
leod, John Tulloch, John Caird, John Ker. — 4. Metaphysi-
ciams, etc. Dr. Thomas Reid, Dugald Stewart, Lord Mon-
boddo, John Abercrombie, M. D., George Combe, Sir Will-
iam Hamilton, Sir James McIntosh. — 5. Historians. Hec-
tor Boece, David Hume, Dr. William Robertson, Patrick
Fraser Tytler, Lord Hailes, Dr. John Gillies, Bishop Burnet,
John Pinkerton, Sir William Napier, James Boswell, Dr.
Thomas McCrie, Cosmo Innes, J. G. Lockhart, W. Stirling
Maxwell, John Lord Campbell, Henry Lord Cockburn, Lord
Macaulay, John Hill Burton. – 6. Miscellaneous Writers,
JEssayists, etc. Sir Andrew Fletcher, Dr. Adam Smith,
Archibald Alison, Prof. John Wilson (Christopher North),
John Gibson Lockhart, J. R. M'Culloch, Francis Jeffrey,
Lord Erskine, Henry Lord Brougham, Robert Mudie, Prof.
Masson, Dean Ramsay, Dr. Robert Chambers, Rev. George
Gilfillan, James Mill (father of John Stuart Mill). — 7. Dis-
coverers and Travelers. Mungo Park, Hugh Clapperton,
Captain Grant, James Bruce, Sir John Ross, David Moffat,
David Livingstone, etc. —-8. Scientists. John Napier (in-
ventor of logarithms), Sir David Brewster, James Watt,
Prof. J. D. Forbes, Sir John Leslie, John P. Nichol, Sir
James Clark, M.D., Thomas Clark, Dr. Alexander Bain, Sir
William Fairbairn, Sir Charles Lyell, Sir Roderick Murchi-
son, Hugh Miller, Prof. John Fleming, Archibald Geikie,
Prof. John Playfair, etc.
ormation to the Revolution, 3 vols., Edinb., 1859–
61; Burton, History of Scotland, 7 vols., Lond.,
1867–70, 2d ed., 8vols., Lond, and Edinb., 1873 4;
Mackenzie, History of Scotland, Edinb., 1867;
Burns, Scottish War of Independents : Its Antece-
dents and Effects, 2 vols., Glasgow, 1874. The
earliest history of Scotland is treated of by Leslie,
2 vols., Edinb., 1866, and Skene, Celtic Scotland:
Płęstory of Ancient Alban, 2 vols., Edinb., 1876–7.
JOHN JOHNSTON.
SCOTT, Winfield, was born near Petersburgh,
Va., June 13, 1786, and died at West Point, May
29, 1866. He was educated at William and Mary
college, and was admitted to the bar in 1806, but
three years afterward obtained a captain's com-
mission in the army. During the ensuing war
he rose rapidly to the rank of major general. He
remained in the army at the end of the war, be-
coming commander-in-chief in 1841. His peace
service was varied by an abortive quarrel wrong-
fully forced upon him by Jackson; the latter ac-
cusing him of “pompous insolence,” “slander,”
and “the designs of an assassin '; and by services
during the nullification excitement at Charleston
1832–3, and on the Canadian and Maine frontier
in 1837–41, in both of which he judiciously and
successfully attempted to keep the peace. Dur-
ing the Mexican war he assumed chief command
of the army, and captured: Mexico. In 1852 he
was the last candidate of the whig party for the
presidency. In 1859 he was made lieutenant gen-
eral of the army. He was too far advanced in
years to come up to the high expectations of the
public, and in November, 1861, he retired from
active service. See his Autobiography, and Mans-
field's Life of Scott, ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
SCRATCHING. The rejection of a candidate
by drawing a line through his name on the printed
ballot, whether or not the voter writes in another
name in its place. In the “Australian system ’’ of
voting, for some time in use in England, the names
of all candidates are printed on an official ballot,
and the voter designates those for whom he votes
by “scratching” the other names. In the United
States the name and practice have been identified
with “independent’’ voting, and the practice of
Scratching the names of unsatisfactory candidates
from the ballot supplied to the voter by his own
party, and replacing them with names from the
opposite ticket or of his own choice, has long been
common with individuals as a means of protest.
The term acquired political notoriety in 1879,
when a number of younger republicans in New
York state, having little or no previous connection
with politics except as individual voters, united
against “the machine,” and advised the “Scratch-
ing ” from the republican ticket of the name of
the candidate for governor, Alonzo B. Cornell,
and that of the candidate for state engineer, How.
ard Soule. The reasons for this action were: the
dissatisfaction with the Saratoga convention, and
the belief that under the control of the “machine”
SEARCH.
SECESSION. 693
Teaders the republican party could not win in the
presidential election of 1880. The call for what
afterward became the independent republican
organization, popularly known as the “ young
scratchers,” was a private letter printed in the
“New York Evening Post,” of Sept. 6, 1879; and
the name of “scratchers” came from a phrase in
the address soon after issued to republican voters,
which concluded: “We urge true republicans
not to stay at home from the polls, not to bolt, but
to scratch, not to desert their party, but to attempt
to purify it from within. We believe this is the
only means to insure in 1880 the needed republi-
can victory, not of politicians, but of statesmen
who may be trusted to carry into practical opera-
tion the republican principles of national Suprem-
acy, sound finance, and administrative reform.”
The movement was much ridiculed by the party
press, but the election showed that Gov. Cornell
fell behind his ticket 19,686 votes, a fact which
became an important factor in the succeeding
presidential campaign. R. R. BOWKER.
SEARCH, Right of. M. Hautefeuille is of
opinion that the search of vessels at Sea is not,
properly speaking, a right, but the manner of
exercising various rights which may belong to
belligerents. – Martens expresses himself thus:
“The mere hoisting of a neutral flag by a mer-
chant vessel met. with, not being sufficient proof
that it is not a vessel of the enemy, natural law
can not refuse to belligerent powers the right of
searching merchant vessels encountered by their
men of war or privateers in a place where it would
be allowable to seize an enemy's vessel, and therefore
to conduct such vessels into port if the proof that
they are not subject to confiscation be insufficient.
But according to universal international law, the
decision of the suit between the subjects of the
two nations as to the lawfulness of the capture
does not belong exclusively to either of them, and
in default of an amicable settlement, a mixed tri-
bunal must be established to decide it. (Précis
du droit des gems, t. ii., § 317.) A merchant ves-
sel which refuses to allow itself to be searched is
suspect, and runs the risk of being declared a good
prize. — M. Cauchy is right in saying that “the
right of search would never have given rise to any
objections if the thing had not gone beyond what
the term conveys.” It is against the abuse of it
that objection has been taken ; for, as Hübner,
Lampredi, and, we may say, all impartial men,
acknowledge, the flag is not of itself a proof
of the nationality of a vessel; it is also necessary to
know if the ship has a right to the colors which
it carries. – M. Cauchy (Droit Maritime, t. i., p.
55) distinguishes three degrees of verification: 1,
the production of a pass, or congé du prince, a
naval passport which shows the nationality, the
port from which the vessel sailed, and its destina-
tion; 2, the representation of the charter parties
or freighting, in which are found the nature and
the quantity of the merchandise on board; and 3,
the visit of the vessel, or the direct search of its
contents. The first two means have raised no se-
rious debate, while the third has been much dis-
puted. M. Cauchy compares the first two modes
of verification to the proofs usual in civil proced-
ure, and the third to a beginning of criminal pro-
ceedings. The visit of a ship appears to us a
means which should be employed only in cases
where there is suspicion that it carries contraband
of war, or where there is suspicion of any other
Serious fraud. As a rule, the ship's papers should
be sufficient. — It appears clearly from the fore-
going that the right of visit is practiced only in
time of war; in time of peace there would be no
Occasion for visiting a ship except in pursuance
of especial conventions, and for the object indi-
cated in such conventions. Thus, the United
States and England concluded, April 9, 1862, a
treaty granting to each other for a period of ten
years the mutual right of visit and search of ves-
sels suspected of being engaged in the slave trade.
France did not ratify a similar treaty proposed by
England in 1841; but she concluded another, May
29, 1845, which shows clearly her repugnance to
grant this right, under no matter what pretext, in
time of peace. — Men of war are not, in any case,
subject to the right of visit or search.
MAURICE BLOCK.
SECESSION (IN U. S. HISTORY). The consti-
tutional apology for the right of secession by one
of the states of the American Union may be very
briefly dismissed; it is entirely dependent upon
the theory of state sovereignty. (See that title.)
Grant that the states are still individually sover-
eign; that their citizens owe a primary allegiance
and obedience to their state, and a secondary obe-
dience to the federal government because their
state remains a member of the Union; that the
|Union is a voluntary confederacy, not a nation:
and the right of secession must be admitted as a
matter of course. The advisability of Secession,
the propriety of severing the ancient relations
with friendly and confederate states, is entirely a
matter for the state's decision: when the decision
is made, every law-abiding citizen is bound by his
allegiance to his state to obey it. (See ALLE-
GIANCE, III.) However fallacious the doctrine of
state sovereignty and its progeny, Secession, may
be, there is at least this apology for the action of
the seceding states in 1860–61: that the doctrine
of state sovereignty, in both its premises and its
consequences, had been familiar almost from an-
tiquity; that its technical language had been used
constantly, even by those who would have Scouted
its logical consequences, and that the system of
negro slavery, with all its countless influences, had
shut out the south from that educational process
which had made state sovereignty either a mean-
ingless formula, or a political heresy, in the north
and west. (See NATION.) It must be noticed,
however, that the right of secession has never
been admitted by any department of the national
government: joint or separate resolutions have
been passed by the two houses of congress, assert-
694
SECESSION.
ing the sovereignty of the states; decisions have
been made by the Supreme court of much the
same character; but the right of secession itself
has never been admitted. Leaving the theory of
state sovereignty to be considered under its appro-
priate head, it is the object of this article to trace
the more practical idea of secession in our history:
I., as a mere incident of particularism, of state
sovereignty; II., as complicated with slavery;
and III., in practice. —I. The union of 1643 (see
NEW ENGLAND UNION) experienced in miniature
most of the perils to which the perfected and na-
tional Union was afterward exposed: nullification
attacked its commercial regulations, and even put
a veto on its wars; but its final disappearance
was due not so much to any secession as to the in-
herent weakness of its nature, and the dislike of
the crown. With the introduction of the attempt
at a more general union in 1754 (see ALBANY PLAN
OF UNION), the idea of secession first comes plainly
into view. The plan of Franklin contemplated
its establishment by act of parliament, a very un-
usual acknowledgment of the power of parliament
over the colonies. In explanation of this feature
of his plan, he states the various interests of the
colonies, and their jealousy of one another, and
adds: “If ever acts of assembly in all the colo-
nies could be obtained for that purpose, yet as
any colony, on the least dissatisfaction, might re-
pent its own act, and thereby withdraw itself
from the union, it would not be a stable one, or
such as could be depended on; for, if only one
colony should, on any disgust, withdraw itself,
others might think it unjust and unequal that
they, by continuing in the union, should be at the
expense of defending a colony which refused to
bear its proportionable part, and could therefore
one after another withdraw, till the whole crum-
bled into its original parts.” The theory of seces-
sion could hardly be more exactly stated; in its
final application in practice it was only improved
in one respect, the passage of the ordinances of
secession by state conventions, instead of by the
assemblies. – Accession to, and secession from,
any union, were of course equally unconstitu-
tional, without the king's consent, while the colo-
nies remained a part of the British empire. But,
as the American revolution itself was frequently
appealed to in after years, as the first great exam-
ple of, and precedent for, secession, it may be well
to lay stress here on one essential difference be-
tween them, that the former was an exercise of
the undeniable right of revolution, a revolt of an
unrepresented fraction of the empire against the
usurpations of parliament, and afterward against
the king for sustaining parliament; while the lat-
ter was attempted to be justified as a constitutional
right of the states, which could not rightfully be
resisted by any other state, by all the other states,
or by the federal government. A revolt of a terri-
tory, unrepresented in the federal government,
against what it might consider the usurpation of
the federal government, and its attempt to estab-
lish a separate government, might claim the Amer-
ican revolution as a precedent; the seceding states
in 1860–61 could not. A revolutionist hazards his
life upon the issue, with the pains and penalties
of treason as a possible result; a secessionist claims
all the advantages of revolution, without any of
its responsibilities or dangers. — Notwithstanding
the early and general dissemination of the theory
of state Sovereignty, its practical consequence, the
right of secession, was for some years unheard of,
perhaps unthought of. Until 1783 the common
dangers of war were a fence outside of which
none of the thirteen states dared to stray; after
1783 the authority of the congress of the confed-
eration was so weak a fence that none of the states.
cared to give it importance by formally demolish-
ing it. The ugly word “secession ” first appears.
in the convention of 1787, July 5, though it then
referred to the states as represented in the conven-
tion itself: Gerry remarked that, unless some com-
promise should be made, “a secession, he fore-
saw, would take place.” The subsequent ratifi-
cation of the constitution by eleven of the thirteen.
states, on the original refusal of Rhode Island and
North Carolina to ratify, has often been appealed
to as a brilliant example of peaceable secession;
and so it must be considered, if the ratifications.
were really, as they purported to be, the acts of
“sovereign states.” The articles of confederation
had expressly provided that no change should be
made in them unless with the assent of the legis-
latures of every state; and yet, in the face of this.
covenant, eleven of the states not only formed a
new government, but inserted in it a provision for
future amendment by three-fourths of the states.
On the theory that the states were sovereign until
the adoption of the constitution, how can such a.
proceeding be, anything but a secession, albeit of
the majority from the minority? But another
power was present in the ratification, the power
which had held the states together even before the
adoption of the articles of confederation, the Sov-
ereign power of the nation, of the national people.
as distinguished from the people of the state. Its.
non-recognition by the state conventions can not
alter the fact of its already established existence;
and, without its existence, the assumptions of the
continental congress, from 1775 until the ratifica-
tion of the confederation in 1781, would be even
a more colossal sham than the ratification of the
constitution. The historic truth is, that the peo-
ple of the nation, which had alone validated the
revolutionary acts of the continental congress, and
which had tolerated the articles of confederation,
had now at last interposed to bring order out of
chaos; that it was disposed to deal very tenderly
with the rights and even with the prejudices of
the peoples of the several states; that it chose to
maintain state lines in the ratifications; but that,
when nine of the states, including a heavy major-
ity of the territory, wealth and population of the
nation, had expressed their decision in favor of
the new form of government, factious opposition
was to cease. It is true that the status of the pos-
sible non-ratifying states was carefully ignored
SECESSION.
695
everywhere, as being what the “Federalist” called
a “delicate question”; but it is impossible to sup-
pose that two, or even four, recalcitrant states
would ever have been allowed to escape from the
national jurisdiction. Gouverneur Morris' warning
in the convention of 1787, July 5, “This country
must be united; if persuasion does not unite it,
the sword will,” which provoked so much con-
trary feeling, was the simple truth. The forms
of ratification would never have been neglected;
but ratification, willing or unwilling, would have
been extorted from Rhode Island and North Car-
olina by a pressure increasing continually until
finally successful. The passage of the senate bill,
May 18, 1790, to prohibit bringing goods, wares
and merchandise from the state of Rhode Island
‘‘ into the United States,” and to authorize a de-
mand of arrears of money from the said state, is
a fair example of the sort of pressure which would
have been increased indefinitely but for the ratifi-
cation by the state on the 29th of the same month.
The nation has always been thus gentle and con-
siderate in allowing the assertion of state sover-
eignty in non-essentials; in essentials state sover-
eignty must yield or be crushed. — Under the con-
stitution the Union was at first spared any inter-
nal dissensions of such magnitude as to suggest
secession as a remedy. Projects for separation
from the Union were undoubtedly on foot before
1795 in Kentucky (see that state), and in western
Pennsylvania (see WHISKY INSURRECTION); but
these were rather the product of frontier freedom
from restraint than the consequence of state sov-
ereignty. Soon after 1795 a series of articles were
published in the “Connecticut Courant,” urging
“the impossibility of union for any long period in
the future,” and laying down the permanent dog-
ma that “there can be no safety to the northern
states without a separation from the confederacy.”
These letters met no general approval in the north,
and the election of Adams to the presidency in
1796 took away for the time their moving cause,
a fear of southern domination in the federal gov-
ernment. The idea of state sovereignty, with se-
cession as a possible consequence, next appeared,
on the other side of Mason and Dixon's line, in
1798. (See KENTUCKY RESOLUTIONs.) The au-
thor of the Kentucky resolutions, Jefferson, ex-
plains his feeling on the subject of secession at
some length in his letter of June 1, 1798, to John
Taylor. “If, on a temporary superiority of the
one party, the other is to resort to a scission of
the Union, no federal government can ever exist.
If, to rid ourselves of the present rule of Massa-
chusetts and Connecticut, we break the Union,
will the evil stop there? Suppose the New Eng.
land states alone cut off, will our natures be
changed? Are we not men still to the South of
that, and with all the passions of men? Immediate-
ly we shall see a Pennsylvania and a Virginia party
arise in the residuary confederacy. If we reduce
our Union to Virginia and North Carolina, they
will end by breaking into their simple units. See-
ing that we must have somebody to quarrel with,
I had rather keep our New England associates for
that purpose.” The objections, it will be noticed,
lie to the advisability, not to the right, of seces-
sion. This defect, however, was common to most
of the public men of the time; and for years after-
ward state Sovereignty, with all its consequences,
was the first refuge of a minority. The existence
of the nation was hardly recognized, even by the
courts, for twenty years after 1798 (see NATION,
JUDICIARY); though its existence was not often
denied in Such plain language as that employed
by Tucker, in his edition of Blackstone in 1803.
After summing up, to his own satisfaction, the
proofs that Virginia had always been a sovereign
state, and enumerating the powers which Virginia
had delegated to the federal government, he thus
concludes: “The federal government, then, ap-
pears to be the organ through which the united
republics communicate with foreign nations and
with each other. Their submission to its opera-
tion is voluntary: its councils, its engagements, its
authority, are theirs, modified and united. Its
sovereignty is an emanation from theirs, not a
flame by which they have been consumed, nor a
vortex in which they are swallowed up. Each is
still a perfect state, still sovereign, still independ-
ent, and still capable, should the occasion require,
to resume the exercise of its functions, as such,
to the most unlimited extent. But, until the time
shall arrive when the occasion requires a resump-
tion of the rights of sovereignty by the several
states (and far be that period removed when it,
shall happen), the exercise of the rights of sov-
ereignty by the states individually is wholly sus-
pended, or discontinued, in the cases before men-
tioned; nor can that suspension ever be removed,
so long as the present constitution remains un-
changed, but by the dissolution of the bonds of
union: an event which no good citizen can wish,
and which no good or wise administration will
ever hazard.” Herein is contained, for the first
time, the sum and substance of the doctrine of
secession. — When the idea of secession next ap-
peared, it was again in the north, and closely con-
nected with the question on which it was finally
put into practice in the south, the territories of
the United States. The acquisition of Louisiana.
(see ANNExATIONs, I.), in 1803, was very objection-
able to the federalist politicians of New England.
They had been beaten in the contest with the
south alone : to re-enforce the southern line of
battle with six, nine or a dozen future States, peo-
pled by “the wild men on the Missouri,” seemed
simply suicidal, a condemnation of New England
to perpetual nullity. They therefore resisted the
annexation to the utmost, and claimed that, as the
constitution was made only for the Original terri-
tory comprised within the United States, an ex-
tension of territory was unconstitutional without
the consent of all the states. “Suppose, in pri-
vate life, thirteen men form a partnership, and
ten of them undertake to admit a new partner
without the concurrence of the other three, would
it not be at their option to abandon the partner-
696
SECESSION.
ship after so palpable an infringement of their
rights? How much more so in the political part-
nership.” The annexation was consummated ;
but it was not until Jan. 14, 1811, on the enabling
act for the ſirst of the dreaded new states, Loui-
siana, that Quincy, of Massachusetts, fairly de-
clared, in the house, the federalist conception of
its consequences. “It is my deliberate opinion,
that, if this bill passes, the bonds of this Union are
virtually dissolved; that the states which compose
it are free from their moral obligations; and that,
as it will be the right of all, so it will be the duty
of some, to prepare definitely for a separation,
amicably if they can, violently if they must.”
Quincy was called to order, but the house decided
that he was in order. Ex-President Adams, in
reply to a copy of the speech, could only say that
“prophecies of division had been familiar in his
ears for six and thirty years.”— In the meantime
the opposition to the democratic administration,
confined chiefly to the New England politicians
on the annexation question, had become more
popular with the introduction of the restrictive
system. (See EMBARGO, III.) It is beyond ques-
tion that some project of secession had been moot-
ed in New England in 1803, though probably con-
fined to a very few; and that Burr's candidacy for
governor of New York in 1804 was a part of it.
(See BURR, AARON.) By taking in the great state
of New York, and by yielding the leadership-in-
chief to a New York democrat, who was highly
popular with the democrats of New England, it
was hoped that a new republic might be formed,
compact, homogeneous, and strongly defended by
nature in every direction. Burr's defeat had much
to do with the failure of this project, but the in-
difference of the people of New England probably
more. The strong and general popular feeling
which was aroused by the embargo revived the
project. How many took part in it is uncertain;
they were probably very few. The whole truth
is probably expressed in a letter of Joseph Story,
afterward supreme court justice, Jan. 9, 1809:
“I am sorry to perceive the spirit of disaffection
in Massachusetts increasing to so high a degree ;
and I fear that it is stimulated by a desire, in a
very few ambitious men, to dissolve the Union.”
Henry's letter, of March 7, 1809 (see HENRY Doc-
UMENTs), goes further, and details the federalist
programme as follows: that, in the event of war,
“the legislature of Massachusetts will declare
itself permanent until a new election of members;
invite a congress, to be composed of delegates from
the federal states; and erect a separate govern-
ment for their common defense and common in-
terest.” Henry’s assertions, however, are usually
only proof that the contrary is the truth, and that
is probably the case here. It is only certain that
the accounts of the feeling in the eastern states,
as given by John Quincy Adams and Story, caused
a panic among the democratic leaders, and ended
the embargo. —During the war of 1812 the feel-
ing in New England grew still higher. Ultra
federalists undoubtedly used language aiming di-
‘Branch,” as cited among the authorities.
rectly at secession; the student will find a large
collection of such utterances in Carey’s “Olive
. Indis-
creet references to “the New England nation,”
occasional flauntings of a flag with five stripes and
stars, the firing of “New England national sa-
lutes” of five guns, and other similar indications,
when combined with the general discontent in New
England (see ConVENTION, HARTFoRD), kept the
administration in a chronic state of alarm. The
discussion of secession in any form by the Hart-
ford convention has been denied by its president
and secretary; its journal shows no trace of it;
and Mr. Goodrich has collected every available
proof to the contrary. It appears certain that no
such active design was considered or desired by
its members; but a few of the opening sentences
of its report are at least suggestive. “If the
Union be destined to dissolution, by reason of the
multiplied abuses of bad administrations, it should,
if possible, be the work of peaceable times and
deliberate consent. Some new form of confed-
eracy should be substituted among those states
which shall intend to maintain a federal relation
to each other. But a severance of the Union by
one or more states, against the will of the rest,
and especially in a time of war, can be justified
only by absolute necessity.” The report conclud-
ed by advising, that, if no attention should be
paid to their remonstrances, and the war should
continue, a new convention should be called in
the following June, “with such powers and in-
structions as the exigency of a crisis so momentous
may require.”— With the close of the war of 1812
the first period of the history of secession ends.
It continued immanent in the doctrine of state
sovereignty; but nothing occurred to call it to act-
ive life. It was threatened as a possible alterna-
tive to its illegitimate brother, nullification (see
that title), but was never enforced. Secessionists
proper in South Carolina had a contempt for nulli-
fication, and composed the so-called “Union par-
ty’ of 1831–3 in that state. Indeed, Jackson's
nullification proclamation was offensive to them,
as laying down “the tyrannical doctrine that we
have not even the right to secede.”—II. Through-
out its subsequent history secession is always con-
nected with slavery or the opposition to slavery.
The right to secede, after it had been completely
formulated by Tucker in 1803, was asserted again
and again for the next thirty years, but always
as a mere particularist formula, a corollary of
state sovereignty. The most striking of these,
and particularly as coming from the north, is
that of Judge Rawle, of Pennsylvania, in his
commentaries on the constitution, as cited below,
in 1825. “The secession of a state from the
Union depends on the will of the people of such
state. * * The state legislatures have only to
perform certain organical operations in respect to
it. To withdraw from the Union comes not
within the general scope of their delegated au-
thority. But in any manner by which a secession
is to take place, nothing is more certain than that
SECESSION.
697
the act should be deliberate, clear and unequivocal;
and in such case the previous ligament with the
Union would be legitimately and fairly destroyed.
* * In the present constitution there is no spe-
cification of numbers after the first formation. It
was foreseen that there would be a natural tend-
ency to increase the number of states. It was
also known, though it was not avowed, that a
state might withdraw itself. The number would
therefore be variable. Secessions may reduce the
number to the Smallest integer admitting combi-
nation. They would remain united under the
same principles and regulations, among them-
Selves, that now apply to the whole. For a state
can not be compelled by other states to withdraw
from the Union, and therefore, if two or more
determine to remain united, although all the oth-
ers desert them, nothing can be discovered in the
Constitution to prevent it.” It is notable that,
so late as Nov. 9, 1860, Horace Greeley upheld
“the practical liberty, if not the abstract right, of
Secession,” only insisting that the step should be
taken “with the deliberation and gravity befitting
SO momentous an issue.” It is true that these two
utterances are almost the only ones from a repre-
sentative northern man after the war of 1812 in
Support of the theory of secession; and that all
the other utterances which have been laboriously
collected are simply the expression of state feeling,
Of state opposition to the annexation of Texas,
the fugitive slave law, and similar measures,
without any apparent thought of the right of se-
cession which was involved in it. Nevertheless,
it is painful to consider the result which would
have followed in 1860–61, if the action of the se-
Ceding states had been slow, calm, and the evident
outcome of popular desire, instead of hasty, vio-
lent, and the work of the politicians. In that
event, the issue of the struggle would have been
painfully doubtful. — Secession came in again
with Texas, whose independent existence was
itself a brilliant instance of successful secession
from the Mexican republic. As the probability of
its annexation grew stronger, the language used in
advocacy of or in opposition to it grew with it.
March 3, 1843, John Quincy Adams and a few
anti-slavery whigs issued an address to their con-
stituents, warning them that the annexation project
had never been given up, and that it would result
in and fully justify a dissolution of the Union.
Through this and the following summer, on the
Other hand, “Texas or disunion” became a fre-
Quently expressed sentiment in the South, par-
ticularly in South Carolina, but this died away as
the success of annexation became assured. But
even this did not drive the northern states into
any action looking to secession, or a dissolution of
the Union, though this was unofficially suggested.
In January, 1845, at an anti-annexation convention
in Boston, Wm. Lloyd Garrison urged the call-
ing of a Massachusetts convention to declare the
Union dissolved, and to invite other states to join
with her in a new union based on the principles
of the declaration of independence. “Although,”
says May, “his motion was not carried by the
convention, it was received with great favor by a
large portion of the members and other auditors,
and he sat down amidst the most hearty bursts of
applause.” But the final annexation of Texas,
Operating against the feelings of the most thor-
oughly nationalized section of the Union, was in-
sufficient to call forth any dangerous or even
irritating desire for a dissolution of the Union.
That was reserved for the question of the settle-
ment of the new territories (see WILMoT PROVISO).
— CO-OPERATION. The theory of secession in-
volved the right of any state to withdraw from the
Union singly; and yet the silent proof of its in-
herent fallacy is that single secession was never
attempted, and probably never thought of. In
1847 Calhoun had endeavored unsuccessfully to
Obtain the “co-operation” of the slave states in
the following programme: 1, the calling of a
slave state convention; 2, the exclusion of the
Sea-going vessels of the northern states from south-
ern ports; 3, the prohibition of railroad commerce
with the northeastern, but not with the north-
western, states; 4, the present maintenance of the
freedom of trade on the Mississippi; 5, the con-
tinuance of this interstate embargo system until
the, northwest should be ‘‘ detached ” from the
eastern states, and should unite with the south in
opening the new territories to slavery. Calhoun’s
programme opened the way, however, for a bolder
idea of “co-operation” in 1850, according to which
a number of slave states were to secede in, com-
pany, for mutual defense, if any prohibition of
slavery in the new territories should be enforced.
But the Southern states held to the resolutions of
the Georgia state convention of 1850, declaring that
the state accepted the compromise of 1850, but
would resist, even to secession, such anti-slavery
legislation as the abolition of slavery in the District
of Columbia, or in the territories, or of the inter-
state slave-trade. There can be no doubt that
South Carolina was ready to scoede in 1850, but
not alone. Her state convention of April 26,
1852, declared her right to secede, but forbore to
exercise it, out of deference to the wishes of other
slaveholding states, that is, because no other slave-
holding state wished to secede with or after her.
Co-operation was, therefore, never practically at-
tempted, because of the compromise of 1850, by
which the Wilmot proviso was really enforced in
California, by its admission as a free state, while
nothing was said of it in the organization of the
territories of Utah and New Mexico, and the
fugitive slave law was accepted by the South as
a make-weight. (See CoMPROMISES, W.) But,
though this attempt at secession by a section was
unsuccessful, there had grown up an alienation
between the north and the south which boded no
good for the future. Calhoun’s last speech in the
senate, March 4, 1850, described the manner in
which many of the multitudinous cords that
bound the Union together had already Snapped.
Of the five great Christian denominations which
had been national in their Organization, two, the
698
SECESSION.
Methodists and Baptists, had split into two sec-
tional parts; and the Presbyterians were evident-
ly close to the point of division. Political bonds
were also stretched almost to breaking, and their
preservation depended on the willingness of the
northern states to Satisfy the south by not exclud-
ing slavery from the territories. “If you,” says
Calhoun, who “represent the stronger portion,
can not agree to settle the great questions at issue
on the broad principle of justice and duty, say
so; and let the states we both represent agree to
separate and depart in peace. If you are unwill-
ing we should part in peace, tell us so, and we
shall know what to do.” The last sentence shows
the remarkable underlying consciousness in every
advocate of secession, of the truth so forcibly
stated by Webster three days afterward: “Seces-
sion | Peaceable secession | Sir, your eyes and
mine are never destined to see that miracle. The
dismemberment of this vast country without con-
vulsion The breaking up of the fountains of the
great deep without ruffling the surface! Peaceable
secession is an utter impossibility.” (See, in gen-
eral, UNITED STATES, II., 5.)—This underlying
Consciousness, that secession meant war, was for
Some time sufficient to make any attempt at open
Secession hopeless ab initio, and no such attempt
was made. Indeed, the south had been very well
Satisfied with the compromise of 1850; and the
impediments to the execution of the fugitive slave
law (see FUGITIVE SLAVE LAWs, PERSONAL LIB-
ERTY, LAWS), while they excited great discontent
in the South, were not commonly looked upon as
reasonable cause for secession. Those final causes
were three in number, with a supplementary
Cause, “coercion,” which will be stated in the
next section. 1. Nothing is more noteworthy in
the extreme southern states than the sudden de-
velopment of large estates, the freezing out of
Small planters, and their emigration after the ab-
Sorption of their property. “In a few years large
estates are accumulated as if by magic.” In
large sections of each state the population con-
sisted almost wholly of negroes, with the few
whites Owning or managing them. . But in all
these states representation was on the basis of
the “federal population”: that is, three-fifths of
the negroes were represented, while the voting
and office-holding pertained to the few whites.
Thus, apart from the natural influence belong-
ing to the wealthy class of the population, the
counties in the “black belt’’ were practically
the pocket boroughs of the slave-owners therein.
These thus held far more than their fair share of
power in state legislatures and conventions, and
in some states absolutely controlled them. With
every year, from 1850 to 1860, the power of this
Class was growing stronger, and their desire for
Secession for the protection of their property in
slaves was not weakened. (See SLAVERY, IV.)
2. But there was still another and much larger
Class in the South, owning few or no slaves, not
wedded to the protection or extension of slavery,
but high-spirited, and determined not to submit to
oppression, or, above all, to the evasion of a fair
compromise. The results of the passage of the
Kansas-Nebraska bill (see that title) served to bring
these into the secession programme. They had
never asked for the abrogation of the Missouri
compromise; but, when it had been abrogated by
fair agreement, it seemed to them an unworthy
evasion to turn Kansas and Nebraska into free
states by organized, not voluntary and natural,
emigration from the north. This was the class to
which was addressed the argument which A. H.
Stephens says carried Georgia, the key-stone of a
successful secession, out of the Union: “We can
make better terms out of the Union than in it.”
3. The Harper's Ferry insurrection (see BRow N,
John) had a silent influence everywhere. Those
who desired secession were active, persevering,
and in earnest ; those who did not, were at the
best negative; for they saw one great chance of
good, even in a successful secession, a release from
national association with future John Browns, and
the ability to protect themselves from such inva-
sions by open and national warfare. — With so
many influences at work in its favor, it is matter
for wonder that secession in 1860–61 was only
forced through by the influence of the first two
classes over the delegates to the state conventions,
and that the popular demand for secession was so
conspicuous by its absence that the conventions,
except in Texas, did not venture to submit their
ordinances to popular vote. For, in a popular
vote, be it remembered, the “federal representa-
tion” disappeared ; only the votes of the whites
went for anything; and the total vote of the state
might very easily show that their nominal repre-
sentatives did not really represent them. There
must have been an enormous mass of Union feel-
ing in the south, blind, leaderless, and rendered
powerless first by the belief that their primary
allegiance was due to the state, and then by the
organization of the new national government at
Montgomery, but still genuine and hearty. —III.
The threat that secession would have followed
Fremont's election, in 1856, was probably only an
electioneering device. When his election seemed
probable, Gov. Wise, of Virginia, called a meet-
ing of southern governors at Raleigh, for Oct. 13;
but only three governors appeared, those of Vir-
ginia, North Carolina and South Carolina, and
these did nothing. The meeting was of Some in-
fluence, however, upon the northern vote. (See
REPUBLICAN PARTY, I.) Practical secession was
hardly as yet possible. The alienation between
the sections was not yet sufficient; and the power
of the secessionist class over the state conventions
was not yet great enough. Four years made a
great difference in both respects. In December,
1860, Senator Iverson, of Georgia, pictured the
situation in the Senate thus: “There are the repub-
lican northern senators on that side. Here are the
southern senators on this side. How much Social
intercourse is there between us? You sit on that
side, sullen and gloomy; we sit on Ours with por-
tentous scowls. Yesterday I observed there was
SECESSION.
699
not a solitary man on that side of the chamber
came Over here, even to extend the civilities and
courtesies of life; nor did any of us go over there.
Here are two hostile bodies on this floor, and it is
but a type of the feeling that exists in the two
Sections. We are enemies as much as if we were
hostile states. I believe the northern people hate
the South worse than ever the English people hated
France; and I can tell my brethren over there that
there is no love lost on the part of the south.”
From this picture, the fact is carefully eliminated
that the Southern senators represented, not the
Southern people, but its slaveholding class; but,
even barring this defect, the picture is well worthy
of study. With such a tightly strained tension of
international relations between the governments of
the two sections, the real feeling of the people was
a matter of but Secondary importance, and there
was but little need of open threats of secession in
case of Lincoln's election. Such threats were un-
doubtedly made, but unofficially; and the question
of secession played no formal part in the campaign
of 1860. The whole congress of 1859–61 was in-
undated by threats of secession in the event of the
election of Seward as president in 1860, the object
seeming to be to commit the southern people to
that policy beyond the possibility of an honorable
withdrawal. It has been asserted that the disrup-
tion of the democratic party, in 1860, was con-
trived by the secessionist class for the purpose of
insuring Lincoln's election, and thus obtaining an
excuse for Secession ; but such a design is very
doubtful. (See DEMOCRATIC PARTY, W.) The
more natural explanation of their course is in their
hope that the electoral vote would be so divided
up as to give no candidate a majority; that the
choice of the president would thus go to the house
of representatives; and that they would there be
able to obtain the election of either Breckinridge
or Bell. That their hopes had some foundation,
may be seen from the facts that the opposition to
Lincoln, after his election, still controlled both
houses of congress; and that the republicans,
throughout the whole rebellion, were indebted for
their majority in congress to the voluntary absence
of the southern delegations. – As it resulted, how-
ever, Lincoln obtained the electoral votes of all the
northern and western states, with the exception of
a part of New Jersey's vote, and was elected be-
yond cavil. What was to be the next step in the
political game? Were the southern states to go on
debating about co-operation, without taking any
practical steps toward Secession, until the popular
impression caused by Lincoln's election had worn
off, and his administration was found to be noth-
ing out of the ordinary? In that case, the idea of
Secession might as well be laid permanently on the
shelf, with other worn-out political stage thunder.
The southern politician class felt, that, rather than
give up what they had grown accustomed to con-
sider the only life-preserver of their section, or
rather of slavery, they would prefer to go over the
Cataract with it. — Nevertheless, there remained
that dread of the practical attempt to secede by a
single state, which was always the surest internal
condemnation of the whole theory of secession.
Gov. Gist, of South Carolina, had already sent a
circular letter to the other southern governors,
Oct. 5, 1860, asking their advice and plans. His
state, he said, would secede with any other state,
if Lincoln should be elected; or she would secede
alone, if she should receive assurances that any
other state would follow her ; “otherwise, it is
doubtful.” Not one governor answered that his
state would secede alone. Florida, Alabama and
Mississippi would secede with any other state;
North Carolina and Louisiana would probably not
secede at all; Georgia would wait for some overt
act. At first sight, these answers seem discour-
aging; but there was hope in them. If three states
were only waiting for a leader, South Carolina.
would take the plunge, though the gallantry of
the act is considerably diminished by this prelim-
inary probing for assurances of support. A move-
ment begun even by four states, would probably
swing the other gulf states; any attempt at “co-
ercion” by the federal government would bring
the border states; and the confederacy of the slave
states would then be complete. — The South Car-
olina legislature, which chose presidential electors
until 1868, was in session to choose them, Nov. 6,
1860, and remained in session until Lincoln's elec-
tion was assured. It then called a state conven-
tion, made appropriations for the purchase of arms,
and adjourned. The convention met at Columbia,
Dec. 17, adjourned to Charleston, on account of
an epidemic in Columbia, and there unanimously
passed the following ordinance, Dec. 20: “We,
the people of the state of South Carolina, in con-
vention assembled, do declare and Ordain, and it
is hereby declared and ordained, that the ordinance
adopted by us in convention, on the 23d day of
May, in the year of our Lord 1788, whereby the
constitution of the United States was ratified,
and also all acts and parts of acts of the general
assembly of this state ratifying amendments of the
said constitution, are hereby repealed ; and that
the Union now subsisting between South Carolina.
and other states, under the name of the United
States of America, is hereby dissolved.” On the
24th a declaration of causes for secession was
adopted. It recapitulated the arguments in favor
of state sovereignty and the right of Secession, and
assigned as a cause for immediate Secession the
general hostility of the northern states to the South,
as shown in their union under a sectional party Or-
ganization, and in their refusal to execute the fugi-
tive slave laws (see PERSONAL LIBERTY LAWS);
and it concluded with an imitation of the closing
paragraph of the declaration of independence. On
the same day the governor by proclamation an-
nounced the fact of secession. Having adopted
ordinances to enforce the existing laws of the
|United States for the present under state authority,
to transfer to the legislature the powers hitherto
exercised by the federal government, to make the
state ready for war, and to appoint commissioners
to form, if possible, a permanent government for
700
SECESSION.
all the states which should secede, the convention
adjourned, Jan. 5, 1861. The action of the state
then ceases to relate to secession, and falls under
other heads. (Sco ConFEDERATE STATES, RE-
BELLION.)—The action of Georgia comes second
in importance politically, if not chronologically;
for the rank, wealth and position of the state
would have made its persistent refusal to secede a
most annoying brake on the secession programme.
The legislature called a state convention, Nov. 18,
1860, and the whole struggle took place on the
election of delegates. There was hardly any denial
of the right of secession; but a strong state party,
under the lead of Alexander H. Stephens, warmly
denied the advisability of secession. The conven-
tion met at Milledgeville, Jan. 17, 1861, and on
the following day, by a vote of 165 to 130, de-
clared it to be the right and the duty of the state
to secede. This really settled the question. Jan.
19, the formal ordinance of secession was adopted
by a vote of 208 to 89. In order to maintain the
position of the state, every delegate but six signed
the ordinance; and these six yielded so far as to
pledge themselves to the defense of the state. After
passing the other necessary ordinances for a trans-
fer of powers from the federal government to the
legislature, the convention adjourned, but re-as-
sembled in Savannah, March 7, and on the 16th
ratified the confederate constitution. — In Missis-
sippi the convention was called for Jan. 7, at
Jackson, and passed an ordinance of Secession on
the 9th by a vote of 84 to 15. March 30, the con-
federate constitution was ratified by a vote of 78
to 7. — In Florida the legislature passed the bill
calling a convention, Dec. 1, 1860, and the con-
vention met at Tallahassee, Jan. 3, 1861. Jan 10,
an ordinance of Secession was passed by a vote of
62 to 7. —In Alabama the election for delegates
was ordered by the governor (see ALABAMA), and
the convention met at Montgomery, Jan. 7, 1861.
Jan. 11, an ordinance of Secession was adopted by
a vote of 61 to 39. March 13, the confederate
constitution was ratified. — In Louisiana the legis-
lature, Dec. 11, 1860, passed the bill calling a con-
vention, and it met at Baton Rouge, Jan. 23, 1861.
Jan. 26, an ordinance of secession was adopted by
a vote of 113 to 17, and on March 21 the confeder-
ate constitution was ratified. Louisiana was the
only original seceding state in which the popular
vote for delegates was a close one. It is stated at
20,448 for, and 17,296 against, immediate seces-
sion. — In Texas, secession was forced through
with great difficulty, and altogether as a revolu-
tion. The governor refused to call an extra ses-
sion of the legislature until, early in January, 1861,
he found that steps were being taken to call it to-
gether without his authority. He then summoned
it for Jan. 22. But this gave very little time for
the passage of a convention bill, the election of
delegates, and the meeting of the convention. An
entirely unofficial call was therefore issued, dele-
gates were elected, and the convention met at Aus-
tin, Jan. 28. Feb. 1, an ordinance of secession was
passed by a vote of 166 to 7; but, as the conven-
tion itself was entirely without any basis of law,
the ordinance was to be submitted to popular vote,
Feb. 23. The legislature, Feb. 4, validated the
conveillion, apparently with a view to overriding a
possibly adverse popular majority. The popular
vote was reported to the convention as 34,794 for
the ordinance, and 11,235 against it. But even
before the popular ratification, the convention had
appointed delegates to the confederate congress,
Feb. 11, and the federal troops in the state had
been captured and paroled. The confederate con-
stitution was ratified March 23. One week before
that day the convention had declared vacant the
office of Gov. Sam Houston, who had shown no
inclination to favor the convention or its purposes.
— These seven states, South Carolina, Mississippi,
Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana and Texas,
were the original seceding states; and the details
of their action seem to show that the first three
named were the only ones in which convention
action represented the majority of the white voters.
In Georgia and Louisiana the result was due to
the lack of any abiding principle in the unionist
representatives for resistance to the earnest body
of secessionists; in Alabama, to the control of the
convention by the southern portion, or “black
belt”; and in Texas, to the revolutionary action of
the secessionist politicians. These considerations,
however, are not of much practical importance,
for in all the states unionists and secessionists alike
acknowledged the abstract right of Secession, the
citizen's paramount allegiance to his state, and
the unconstitutionality of “coercion” by the fed-
eral government. The secession of even a single
state, and an attempt to coerce it, would therefore
have brought about the secession of the other states
named, as it afterward did in the cases of Arkan-
sas, Tennessee, North Carolina and Virginia. —
CoERCION. It is noteworthy that originally the
most extreme particularists had the least objection
to the coercion of a state by the federal govern-
ment. In writing to Monroe, Aug. 11, 1786, Jef-
ferson says: “There never will be money in the
treasury till the confederacy shows its teeth. The
states must see the rod: perhaps it must be felt by
some one of them. * * Every rational citizen
must wish to see an effective instrument of coer-
cion, and should fear to see it on any other el-
ement than the water.” And still more fully, Aug.
4, 1787: “It has been so often said as to be gen-
erally believed, that congress have no power by the
confederation to enforce anything, for example,
contributions of money. It was not necessary to
give them that power expressly; they have it by
the law of nature. When two parties make a
compact, there results to each a power of Com-
pelling the other to execute it.” This was the
general ground on which the democratic members
of congress, in 1861–5, while still holding the con-
stitution to be a “compact,” voted for the prose-
cution of the war. It may also explain the reason
why both the Virginia and New Jersey plans in
1787 (see CoNVENTION OF 1787) included a power
to coerce disobedient states; and why Madison and
SECESSION.
701
others in the convention wished to give the fed-
eral government an absolute veto on the legisla-
tion of state governments, to remove the necessity
for any forcible “coercion.” — Either of these
plans would have been hazardous. Madison him-
self said that “the use of force against a state
would look more like a declaration of war than an
infliction of punishment, and would probably be
considered by the party attacked as a dissolution
of all previous compacts by which it might be
bound.” This expression, justified as it is by com-
mon sense, has often been quoted as a condemna-
tion of “coercion.” But it must be noted that no
such “use of force against a state” was ever author-
ized by the constitution. That instrument gave
an indirect and far safer power of coercion, 1, in
the case of states, by extending the power of the
federal judiciary to state laws involving the con-
struction of the constitution (see JUDICIARY, I.);
and 2, by giving the power to compel individuals
to obey the federal government in any conflict
with the state. — Nevertheless the opinion was
strangely prevalent in 1860-61, that, because con-
gress had no power to “coerce” a state, secession
could not be interfered with. The simplest argu-
ment for this view can be found in President
Buchanan’s message of Dec. 3, 1860. It was
the main encouragement to secession by a single
state; it was announced again and again by the
border states during the winter of 1860–61; and
the consciousness of its general existence threw
the Lincoln administration at first altogether up-
on the defensive. (See BoBDER STATES, and the
names of their states in detail.) It was not un-
til the popular uprising in the north had taught
the administration what states it could rely up-
on, that the federal government was encouraged
to begin the work of coercion by exercising its
power to execute the laws and suppress insurrec-
tion by means of the armed militia. From that
time coercion took the form of repression of indi-
vidual resistance, the federal government ignoring
the action of the state as entirely ultra wires.
This is the form which coercion took in its first
operation in our history, the “force bill” of 1833
(see NULLIFICATION), and which it must always
take. If a state should see fit to form a treaty
with a foreign power, the federal government
would ignore such action, and would compel indi-
viduals to ignore it also, by the use of the courts in
cases of mild resistance, and of the army and navy
in case of resistance by force. This process of
“coercion” could hardly be better stated than in
a pamphlet cited below, by Gov. H. A. Wise, of
Virginia, published in 1859, though aimed at a
very different object. He supposes the state of
Vermont gradually coming to forcible resistance
against the execution of the fugitive slave laws,
her state convention making the arrest of a slave
felony, and her magistrates and officers resisting
the federal writs of habeas corpus by force. “The
president must then command a sufficient force
of the army or navy or militia of the United
States to overcome the rebellion and treason; and
that would not be all. The jailor and judges
and governor of Vermont, and all persons guilty
with them of rebellion against the faithful execu-
tion of the laws of the United States, would have
to be arrested and tried according to law, or, if
their resistance was serious enough to require it,
to be slain in battle of rebellion against the laws
of the Union. And I am sure, that, if civil war
should thus be brought on to battle and carnage,
every patriot and lover of the laws would march
to the order of coercing a state, to compel her au-
thorities and her people to obey the supreme laws,
to lay down their weapons, and to renounce the
state laws and ordinances commanding their rebell-
ion.” – Voluntary secession had really spent its
force in carrying Georgia, Alabama, Louisiana
and Texas with it; but it relied on carrying the
other slave states with it on the plea of resistance
to coercion, when President Lincoln should call
for troops to enforce the laws. In two of them it
succeeded fairly: Arkansas passed an ordinance of
secession May 6, and North Carolina May 20. (See
those states.) In Virginia and Tennessee, another
plan had to be adopted. The convention, while
nominally submitting the ordinance of Secession
to popular vote, first formed “military leagues”
with the confederate states; confederate troops at
once swarmed over their territory; and under their
auspices the popular vote became a farce. In this
way Virginia's ordinance was ratified May 23, and
Tennessee's June 18. Here the current stopped:
in Maryland, Kentucky and Missouri much the
same plan was tried as in Texas, but it was a fail-
ure. (See those states.) In Delaware alone of the
slave states, secession seems to have had no advo-
cates. – The United States supreme Court has
finally decided that the ordinances of secession
were entirely void, and that a state government
steps out of its sphere when it undertakes to or-
gasize armed resistance to the federal government.
Reconstruction by congress does not seem to have
been founded on the notion that the ordinances of
secession had so far taken the states Out of the
Union as to require their readmission, but on the
theory that the state governments had either been
vacated by the fault of the individual citizens of
the state, or had been seized upon by usurpers;
that in either case the reconstruction must be un-
der the authority of the federal government; and
that individuals who had been guilty of treason
were estopped from objecting to the methods.
which congress might see fit to employ. (See
RECONSTRUCTION, I.) — Finally, the suppression
of the doctrine of secession by force has estab-
lished the political existence of the nation, as dis-
tinguished even from all the states. It has done
so, not by the facts that all the seceding states, in
their new constitutions, expressly disavowed any
right of secession, and declared the primary alle-
giance of the individual citizen to be due to the
United States; but by the higher fact that the na-
tion has plainly expressed and successfully en-
forced its will in the matter. For the future, all
men are bound to take notice that it is the nation
702
SENATE.
that wills that there should be state governments,
and not states which will that there should be a
national government. The ultimate results of
secession in this way no man can foresee. (See
NATION, III.)—The theory of the right of seces-
sion will be found in Centz's Republic of Repub-
lics, Fowler's Sectional Controversy; 1 Calhoun’s
Works, 300; 1 Tucker's Blackstone, Appendix,
187; 1 Stephens' War Between the States, 495;
Rawle's Commentaries on the Constitution, 302;
Appleton’s Annual Cyclopædia, 1861, 614 (Davis'
Message of April 29). The study of Mr. Fisher's
theory of “constitutional secession,” by amicable
agreement between the federal government and a
seceding state, will also be found interesting and
profitable: see Fisher's Trial of the Constitution,
160, 167. (See STATE SovKREIGNTY, III.) See
also (I.) authorities under NEW ENGLAND UNION,
and ALBANY PLAN OF UNION; 5 Elliot's Debates,
276, 278; 1 Benton's Debates of Congress, 172; 4
Jefferson's Works, edit. 1853, 111; 1 von Holst's
United States, 196; authorities under KENTUCKY
RESOLUTIONs ; 3 Jefferson's Works, edit. 1830,
394; 2 Schouler's United States, 192; Quincy's Life
of Quincy, 206, 210; Adams' Documents Relating
to New England Federalism (see, under index,
“Northern Confederacy”); 4 Upham's Life of
Pickering, 53; 3 Sparks’ Writings of Gouverneur
Morris, 319; 1 Story's Life of Story, 182; 8 Niles'
Weekly Register, 262; Carey's Olive Branch, 7th
edit., 416, 449; Hunt's Life of Livingston, 346; au-
thorities under CONVENTION, HARTFORD, and
NULLIFICATION; (II.) 1 Greeley’s American Com-
flict, 359; May's Anti-Slavery Conflict, 320; 2 Ben-
ton's Thirty Years’ View, 613, 698, 733; Cox's
Eight Years in Congress, 188; 16 Benton's Debates
of Congress, 403, 415 (Calhoun’s and Webster's
speeches, March 4 and 7, 1850); 2 Olmsted’s Cot-
ton Kingdom, 158; (III.) Nicolay's Outbreak of Re-
bellion ; 1 Draper's Civil War, 438, and 2 öbid. ,
Buchaman’s Administration, 108; Greeley’s Polit-
deal Teat Book of 1860, 170; McPherson’s Political
History of the Rebellion, 2; 2 Stephens' War Between
The States, 312; ibid., 671 (South Carolina decla-
ration of 1861); 2 Jefferson's Works, edit. 1830,
43, 203; H. A. Wise's Territorial Government, 103;
|Botts’ Great Rebellion, 205, 209; Brownson’s Amer-
Žcan Republic, 277; Story’s Commentaries on the
Constitution, edit. 1833, § 359; Mulford's The Wa-
tion, 334; Goodwin’s Natural History of Secession;
. Hurd's Theory of Our National Facistence.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
SEDITION LAWS.
TION LAWS.)
(See ALIEN AND SEDI-
sEMINoLE WAR. (See SLAVERY, II.)
SENATE (IN U. S. HISTORY). This name is
given to the smaller of the two branches of the
state legislatures, but, when used without distinc-
tive description, usually refers to the smaller of
the two houses of congress. (See CONGRESS,
HousB OF REPRESENTATIVES.) — In the congress
of the confederation there was but one house, and
each state had an equal vote in it. (See CoNFED-
ERATION, ARTICLES OF.) There was some effort
in the convention of 1787 to continue the arrange-
ment of a single house, but it found no influential
support, except from Franklin and the “Jersey
plan,” and was abandoned. The greatest difficul-
ty, which seems very slight now, but was almost
insuperable in the beginning of the convention’s
work, was to find a different basis of existence for
the two houses. It was comparatively easy to fix
the membership of the house of representatives
by fair proportions of the whole population of the
country. (See APPORTIONMENT.) But it was
then very difficult to hit on any radically different
basis for the senate, which should be satisfactory
to all concerned. There was no different class, as
in Great Britain, from which to select a house of
lords (see that title); and the formation of a smaller
house, on the same basis as the other, would have
ended in the establishment of two houses, both
controlled by precisely the same ideas, and the
loss of all the advantages of two houses. – The
same difficulty has attended the formation of state
senates, and has been met there by the division of
the state into different territorial units for the two
houses. (See AssEMBLY.) The convention of 1787
hit upon a simple and natural basis for the Senate,
and formed a body as efficient in practice as it is’
apt to 'strike the imagination of an observer fa-
vorably. The senate is certainly the most digni-
fied and impressive part of the American consti-
tutional system, unless we except the Supreme
court. But this brilliant success of the conven-
tion must not blind us to the fact that the Conven-
tion itself gained it blindly, or was forced into it;
that it was the product of no single clear design
or desire; and that it was due to the gradual and
unwilling compromise of conflicting purposes.
(See ConvKNTION OF 1787; CoMPROMISEs, I.) If
the scheme of the senate, as we admire it in its
final form, had been offered to the convention in
the first place, it would almost certainly not have
received a single vote. — The Virginia plan, when
first introduced, provided that the senate, without
as yet giving it a name or defining its powers or
term of office, should be chosen by the house of
representatives out of a proper number of persons
nominated by the state legislatures. Pinckney’s
plan proposed that it should be chosen by the
house from residents of the various states to
serve for three years; that the Senators from
New England, the middle and the Southern states,
should constitute three classes, to go out of Office
on successive years; and that the Senate should
have sole power to declare war, make treaties, ap-
point foreign ministers and judges of the Supreme
court, and decide territorial disputes between the
states. Hamilton’s plan proposed that Senators
should be chosen by electors chosen by the people
of each state in election districts; that they should
serve during good behavior; and that the Senate
should have the power to declare war and approve
treaties and appointments. The New Jersey plan
''J
SENATE.
703
provided for no senate. In the debate three other
plans of selection were brought up: 1, by the na-
tional executive, out of nominations by state legis-
latures; 2, by the people; and 3, by the state leg-
islatures; and the last was adopted unanimously,
June 7. As yet it was not settled whether the states
were to be equally or proportionately represented
in the senate, the small states urging the former
plan, and the large states the latter. This ques-
tion, on which, said Sherman, of Connecticut,
“everything depended,” came up June 11. A
motion that each state have one vote was lost, and
another for proportionate representation in both
branches was carried, the six “large states” in
both cases voting against the five “Small states.”
On the next day the term of senators was fixed at
seven years. June 13, the committee of the whole
reported that the “second branch * was to be
chosen for seven years by the state legislatures,
according to the population of each state, and to
be paid out of the national treasury; its members
to be at least thirty years old, and to be ineligible
to office under the United States for a year after
the end of their term of office. The constitution
40f the senate, in its first form, was thus completed;
and though it still lacked a name, the words “sen-
ate?” and “senatorial” were frequently used in
debate. — The report of the committee of the
whole as to the composition of the Senate was
adopted by the convention, June 24–25, except
that the term of seven years was changed to six.
The convention was then brought face to face
with the all-important question, the rule of rep-
resentation in the senate. For days the debate
went on. The five small states, Connecticut, New
York, New Jersey, Delaware and Maryland, knew
that they would be outvoted by the six large states
in the end; and a motion was made, June 30, that
the president of the convention write to the execu-
tive of New Hampshire, asking for the attendance
of that state's delegates; but it was voted down.
Dr. Franklin proposed that each state have an
equal representation in the Senate, with a vote on
money bills proportionate to its share of taxation;
but this was not considered. The large states
were determined to have a proportional share of
the senate; the small states were equally deter-
mined to have an equal share. The debates grew
unusually warm, for this convention; and one of
the Delaware delegates went so far as to declare,
that, if the large states should push the matter to
an unjust issue, they would dissolve the confeder-
ation, and then ‘‘the small ones will find some
foreign ally, of more honor and good faith, who
will take them by the hand and do them justice.”
The temper of the small states rose so high that
the matter was not pushed to an issue. It was
Settled by compromise, and the equal represen-
tation of the states in the senate was the result.
(See CoMPROMISEs, I.) — July 14, the large states
made a fresh effort to apportion Senators among
the states in numbers varying from one for Rhode
Island and Delaware to five for Virginia, or thirty-
six in all, but it was voted down. During the
preside over it.
debate, Elbridge Gerry threw out the idea, which
was afterward adopted, of allowing the senators
to vote per capita, instead of by states. From
this time the large states yielded, and the equal
state representation in the senate was secure. The
line of division still existed: the small states usu-
ally endeavored to throw as much power as pos-
sible into the Senate, while the large states did the
Same in regard to the house of representatives.
But the struggle was now most temperate and
amicable : “the little states had gained their
point.” In the report of the committee of detail,
Aug. 6, the name “senate ’’ was formally given
to “the second branch.” Its composition and vot-
ing per capita were just as in the final constitution,
except that there was as yet no vice-president to
(See ELECTORs, I.) Its powers
were very different: it was to make treaties, ap-
point ambassadors, judges of the Supreme court,
and commissioners to give final and conclusive
judgment in territorial disputes between the states
(see TERRITORIES, I.); but it had not yet the pow-
er to try impeachments, confirm the president's
appointments, or alter or amend money bills.
The introduction of the electoral system, Sept. 4,
brought with it, as part of the plan, the power
of the senate to try impeachments, and the func-
tions of the vice-president as presiding officer of
the senate; but, in case of a failure of choice by
the electors, the senate was to choose the presi.
dent, leaving the vice-presidency to the other per-
son having the highest number of electoral votes.
The next day another report from the committee
of detail gave the senate power to alter or amend
money bills. All these new provisions were adopt-
ed in the next three days, except that the election
of the president was transferred to the house.
The Constitution of the Senate was not further
altered, except that the provision was unanimous-
ly added, Sept. 15, that no state should be de-
prived, without its consent, of its equal suffrage
in the senate. As a rough summary, we may say
that the fundamental idea of the Senate was brought
in by the compromise of July 5, and that it took
almost complete shape, as it now stands, Sept.
4. Alterations at other periods of the conven-
tion were comparatively unimportant ; and, since
the adoption of the constitution, its provisions
with regard to the Senate have never been altered,
except by giving to that body, in 1804, the choice
of the vice-president when the electors failed to
choose. — In the form which it finally took and
has since retained, the senate is a body composed
of two members from each state, voting per capita.
In 1803, Tucker said, of the number of Senators,
that “it is not probable that it will ever exceed
fifty.” The number is now (1883) Seventy-six, from
thirty-eight states. How far this may be increased
in the future can not even be guessed. It is true
that there are but eight available territories re-
maining (see TERRITORIES); but there are many
indications that the process of forming new states
may be turned to the division of old states. (See
State Rights, under STATE SOVEREIGNTY.) Sena-
704
SERGEANT.
tors are to be at least thirty years old, nine years
citizens of the United States, and inhabitants of
the states for which they are chosen. They are
chosen by the state legislatures for six years; and
congress may at any time, by law, make regula-
tions, or alter state regulations, as to the manner
and time of their election, but not as to the place.
For many years there was hardly any field for
political manoeuvre more fertile than this of the
choice of Senators by the legislatures. In some
states senators were elected by concurrent vote of
the two branches of the legislature; in others, by
joint convention; in others, a concurrent vote was
first to be tried, and then, if necessary, a joint
convention. In all the states there were chances
for intrigue which were not neglected. A party
majority in one house would refuse to go into a
joint convention in which it was certain to be
beaten; or would resign or absent themselves.
(See, for example, INDIANA.) One of the most
curious of these manoeuvres took place in New
York, in 1825. (See that state.) Finally, the act
of July 25, 1866, regulated the manner of election.
Each house of the legislature is to vote viva voce
for senator, on the Tuesday following its organi-
zation. On the following day the houses are to
hold a joint meeting. If it appears that the same
person has received a majority in each house, he is
elected. If not, the joint meeting is to take at
least one viva voce vote a day during the session of
the legislature, until some person shall receive a
majority of all the votes of the meeting, a majority
of each house being present. In the case of a va-
gancy occurring during the session of the legisla-
ture, the same course of procedure is to begin on
the Tuesday after the notice of the vacancy is re-
ceived. If a vacancy occurs when the legislature
is not in session, the constitution empowers the
governor to fill it by appointment until the legis-
lature meets. – When the first senate was organ-
ized, ten states were represented. May 14, 1789,
they were divided into three classes: one of six
members, the other two of seven each. One
member of each class then drew lots, the class
drawing number one to serve two years, number
two to serve four years, and number three six
years. The classes were so arranged that no two
senators from one state fell in the same class. As
the other three states sent Senators they were as-
signed by lot in the same way, a blank being so
used as to keep the classes even. As the terms of
the classes expired, their successors were elected
for six full years. Senators from new states are so
assigned as to keep the three classes nearly even.
Thus one-third of the Senate goes out of office every
two years; but there is never any complete altera-
tion of its membership at one time. Theoretically,
it has been the same body since 1789, in spite of
the periodical changes in its constituent elements.
This permanence seems, from the debates of the
convention, to have been intended mainly to give
foreign nations a sense of security as to the treaty
power of the United States; but it has had im-
portant influences in every direction. — In legis-
lative matters the Senate holds an equal rank with
the house of representatives (see, in general, CoN-
GRESS); it may not originate bills for raising rev-
enue, but it may propose or concur with amend-
ments, as on other bills. Its officers are much the
same as those of the house (see House of REPRE-
SENTATIVEs); but it has no such binding code of
rules of order and debate. In place of them it
relies on the “courtesy of the senate,” which
the older senators of all parties unite in main-
taining; and vivacious graduates from the house
of representatives are rapidly chilled down to the
orthodox temperature of debate in the senate.
The vice-president presides, but has no vote, ex-
cept in case of a tie. In presiding, he is but the
spokesman of the senate, and is expected merely
to express its will, or in doubtful matters to call
upon it for an expression of its will. He addresses
the members only as “senators”— a brief and
impressive mode introduced by vice-president Cal-
houn, instead of the form previously in use,
“gentlemen of the senate.” (For the succession
to the presidency, see ExECUTIVE, W.) — In addi-
tion to its legislative functions the Senate has pe-
culiar executive and judicial characteristics, which
greatly increase its dignity and importance. Its
power to confirm the president’s nominations is
fully treated elsewhere. (See CoNFIRMATION BY
THE SENATE, TENURE OF OFFICE.) It sits as a
court to try impeachments preferred by the house
of representatives. (See IMPEACHMENTS.) It has
the power to advise and consent to treaties made
by the president, and they are not valid until so
ratified. (See JAY's TREATY.) It is even held,
on good authority (see Curtis, as cited below),
that the senate may propose a treaty to the presi-
dent; and this interpretation is certainly rather
unusual than strained. In transacting its execu-
tive business, the confirmation of nominations and
treaties, the senate acts in secret. Many unsuc-
cessful efforts have been made to make these de-
bates public. — The senate chamber is in the cen-
tre of the north wing of the capitol at Washing-
ton, and its simplicity of appearance harmonizes
well with the proceedings of the senate. The
senate committees are forty-two in number, the
most important being, as a general rule, the com-
mittee on foreign relations.—See 5 Elliot's Debates
(index under Senate); The Federalist, lii.-lxvi.; 2
Curtis’ History of the Constitution, 417 (and also
index under Senate); Story’s Commentaries, §§
688, 1499 foll.; Poore's Manual of the Senate, the
act of July 25, 1866, is in 14 Stat. at Large.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
SERGEANT-AT-ARMS.
ARY L.A.W.)
(See PARLIAMENT-
SERGEANT, John, was born at Philadel-
phia, Pa., Dec. 5, 1779, and died there, Nov. 23,
1852. He was graduated at Princeton, in 1795,
was admitted to the bar in 1799, and was a feder-
alist congressman 1815–23 and 1827–9. In 1832
he was the whig candidate for Vice-president, and
SERVIA.
705
was defeated. (See WHIG PARTY, I.; ELECTORAL
VOTES, XII.) He was again in congress as a
whig, 1837–41. A. J.
SERVIA, Principality of. A semi-sovereign
state, the youngest member of the European fam-
ily, to use the expression of an English publicist,
formed of a part of the old Servian empire founded
by Douchan the Strong in the fourteenth century,
the dismemberment of which followed soon after
the death of that prince (1356). After the fatal
day of Kossovo (1389), which paved the way for
the subjection of the different Slave states of
Turkey in Europe, the Servians acknowledged
themselves vassals of the Ottoman porte by virtue
of particular agreements, the tenor of which re-
Calls the capitulations concluded about the same
time between Turkey and Moldo-Wallachia, and
which succeeded no better than the latter in pro-
tecting the national independence. Deprived of its
despotes, or native chiefs, Servia was gradually re-
duced to the condition of a simple paschalic, until
the day when, at the call of Kara-George and
Miloch, it rose en masse against its oppressors, and
alone, without other aid than its courage and the
diplomatic assistance of Russia, forced, after twen-
ty-two years of fight and negotiation (1804–1826),
the porte to restore to it a part of its former rights.
In 1826 the additional act of the convention of
Akkerman (Oct. 7), confirmed three years after
by the treaty of Adrianople, raised Servia into a
tributary principality of the Ottoman porte, with
the privileges of an independent internal admin-
istration. — These privileges were stated and speci-
fied in a Hatti-sherif of Sultan Mahmoud, dated
Aug. 3, 1830, which fixed the limits of the new
state, and recognized, by a berat dated the same
day, Miloch and his descendants forever as kniazes
(princes) of Servia: a title which had been unan-
imously conferred upon the liberator three years
before the Servian grand Skoupehtina (national as-
sembly). A second Hatti-sherif, promulgated in
December, 1838, framed the oustav, or Servian
statute, in sixty-six articles relative to the govern-
ment, administration, finances, etc. — The rights
and immunities derived from these Hatti-shūrīfs
received a new sanction by the treaty of Paris of
1856, which abolished the protectorate that Russia
had established over Servia, substituting for it the
Collective guarantee of the contracting powers,
and stipulated, at the same time, for the neutrality
and inviolability of the Servian territory, as may
be seen from articles twenty-eight and twenty-nine,
worded thus: “Art. 28. The principality of Servia
shall continue to depend upon the sublime porte,
in conformity with the imperial Hattis which fix
and determine its rights and immunities, placed
henceforth under the collective guarantee of the
Contracting powers. Consequently, the aforesaid
principality shall preserve its independent and
national administration, as well as full freedom of
Conscience, legislation, commerce and navigation.
Art. 29. No armed intervention shall take place
in Servia without previous agreement between
164 VOL. III. — 45
sembly (skow.pchtina).
the high contracting powers.”— The situation of
Servia, stationary during the reign of Alexander
Karageorgevitch (September, 1842, to December,
1858), was improved both externally and internally
in consequence of the revolution which called the
Obrenovitchs to the throne. In 1862 the Turks
consented to evacuate the fortresses of the Danube
and the Save, with the exception of Belgrade,
Semendria and Chabatz, which, in turn, were not
long afterward restored to the Servians (1867).
Two years after (July, 1869), the oustav was abol-
ished by the Skoupchtina, and replaced by the
constitution which now rules Servia. — Political
State. It results from the preceding that Servia
enjoys exactly the same rights as a state, and is
placed in the same position toward Turkey, as
Roumania. Like the latter, its government and
administration are completely independent of the
Suzerain power, to which it is only obliged to pay
an annual tribute of 4,600 Turkish purses. It fur-
nishes neither troops nor money in time of war.
It preserves its national flag of tricolor bands with
the arms of the principality embroidered in relief
(a field of gules with a cross of silver, strewn with
four Sabres, and surmounted by a crown), and
maintains at Constantinople, like Moldo-Walla-
chia, an agentor resident (kapou kiaia) accredited to
the porte. — Area and Population. The area of the
principality is estimated at 49,500 square kilome-
tres. It forms five great territorial circumscrip-
tions, divided, for administrative purposes, into
seventeen departments (eighteen with the city of
Belgrade), subdivided into sixty arrondissements,
comprising 1,199 communes, of which forty are
city communes and 1,159 are rural communes,
with 2,200 villages. – The population amounted,
according to the census of 1866, to 1,215,576, as
follows: Servians, 1,057,540; native Wallachians,
127,326; Jews, 5,539; and Bohemians (gypsies),
25,171. The domiciled foreigners (6,960) are not
included in this number. — Government. The
government is a constitutional monarchy, hered-
itary in the family of Obrenovitch. The prince,
or kniaz, with the title of most serene highness,
as well as the domnu of Roumania, exercises the
powers and enjoys the prerogatives devolving upon
the sovereign in constitutional states, promulgates
the laws and ordinances, appoints the public offi-
cials, commands the military forces, signs agree-
ments and treaties, and alone represents the nation
with foreign powers. He governs with the aid of
responsible ministers. The number of ministerial
departments, limited to three by the oustav of 1838,
was raised to seven by the law of 1861, interior,
finances, foreign affairs, justice, public instruc-
tion and worship, war, public works. The prince
shares the legislative power with the national as-
There are two kinds of
skoupchtinas: the ordinary skoupchtina, which
assembles every year, and the ea traordinary or
grand skoupchtina, convoked only in certain ex-
ceptional and fixed cases. The Ordinary Skoup-
chtina is composed of representatives elected by the
nation, and of deputies (one-third) appointed by
706
SERVIA,
the executive power. Every tax-paying Servian
is an elector at twenty-one years of age; every elect-
or paying thirty francs tax is eligible. The con-
stitution guarantees to the citizens equality before
the law, individual liberty, religious liberty, lib-
erty of the press, and the abolition of confiscation.
—Administration. The departments (okroujié) are
administered by prefects (natchalnik), the arron-
dissements by subprefects appointed by the gov-
ernment; the communes by kmètes elected by the
inhabitants, and fulfilling both the functions of
mayors and justices of the peace. — Justice. Just-
ice is administered: 1, by a court of appeal
(Belgrade), divided into three chambers; 2, by a
court of appeal also sitting at Belgrade; 3, by tri-
bunals of first resort sitting in chief towns of the
departments; 4, by rural courts, established from
time immemorial in each commune, and com-
posed of the kmète and two assessors. The jury
system was introduced in 1871, but only for cer-
tain cases. The proceedings before all the tribu-
nals are public and oral. The death penalty is no
longer inflicted in political offenses. Moreover,
it is resorted to only in cases of premeditated
murder. The duration of the punishment of
forced labor or of imprisonment can not exceed
twenty years. — Public Instruction. According
to published official accounts, there were in the
principality, at the end of the scholastic year
1870–71, 484 communal schools, which furnish
only elementary instruction, eighteen establish-
ments of secondary instruction, one academy (Bel-
grade), composed of three faculties (law, science
and philosophy); in all, 505 establishments, at-
tended by 27,761 pupils (10,973 in 1861), which
is only an average of 2+ to every 100 inhabitants.
But it is only just to remark that before 1830 Ser-
via did not possess a single school, and that in-
struction was so far from being general, that the
two founders of Servia's independence, Kara-
George and Miloch, did not even know how to
read. Instruction in all the schools is gratuitous;
primary instruction is, in a certain measure, obli-
gatory. — Worship. The prevailing religion is the
Greek Catholic. All other creeds are freely pro-
fessed. The Servian church is autocephalic (au-
tonomous), that is, it governs itcolf, entirely in-
dependent of the ecumenical patriarchate of Con-
stantinople, by a synod composed of the arch-
bishop of Belgrade, metropolitan of Servia, and
three diocesan bishops of Chabatz, Négotine and
Oujitzé. The four dioceses together contained, in
1871, 379 churches and chapels, with 742 priests,
and 42 monasteries, with 135 monks. The bishops
are chosen by the Synod and confirmed by the
prince. The metropolitan is appointed directly
by the synod. —Internal Relations. The princi.
pality maintains official relations: 1, with the
Ottoman porte by means of a Servian chargé d'af.
faires at Constantinople; 2, with the six guarantee-
ing powers (France, Austria, Great Britain, Italy,
Prussia, Russia) through the medium of agents
and consuls general of these powers accredited
to the prince at Belgrade; 3, with Roumania, by
means of the Servian agency at Bucharest (1862),
and the Roumanian agency at Belgrade (1863).
The principality also sends a delegate to the per-
manent river commission of the Danube, estab-
lished by article seventeen of the treaty of Paris.
— Military Forces. The military forces are com-
posed of two distinct elements, although each
completes the other: the standing army, which is,
properly speaking, only a collection of the organ-
izations of different sorts; and the militia, the
organization of which resembles somewhat that
of the Prussian landwehr. The first, which is re-
cruited by lot, does not exceed 4,000 men. The
second, composed of all the citizens from twenty
to fifty years of age who do not form part of the
standing army, is divided into three classes or
bans. The first ban, formed of men from twenty
to thirty years of age, has an effective force of
68,364 men, infantry, cavalry and artillery, divided
into five commands, or voivodies.—Finance. There
are few, countries in which the finances are ad-
ministered with more wisdom than in Servia.
Almost all the budgets show an excess of receipts.
Thus the budget year 1870–71 showed an excess
of receipts of 1,352,281 francs, out of a total of
14,309,242 francs. The principal sources of rev-
enue are the direct taxes (7,661,200 fr.) and the
customs (2,363,296 fr.). Among the expenditures
(12,956,096 fr.) figure the general services of the
ministries for a total of 10,765,090 francs, the civil
list of the prince (504,000 fr.), the tribute to the
Ottoman porte (494,027 fr.), the dotation of the
legislative bodies (163,461 fr.), etc. — Commerce.
The value of the imports for the four years 1868–71
presents an annual average of about 25,000,000
francs. The average of the exports for the same
period was 29,426,100 francs. In 1868, in conse-
quence of the extreme abundance of cereals, it
rose to 38,000,000. The principal articles of ex-
port are: hogs, cattle, wool, hides, tallow, Suet,
brandy (plum) and cereals, which, until 1865, fig-
ured among the articles of import.* -
A. UBICINI.
* The independence of Servia from Turkey was established
by article thirty-four of the treaty of Berlin, signed July 13,
1878, and was solemnly proclaimed by Prince (now King)
Milan at his capital, Aug. 22, 1878. — The revenue of Servia
is derived chiefly from direct imposts, including a general
capitation tax, classified as to rank, occupation and income
of each individual, and which is assessed, in the first instance,
on the different communes or parishes. The budget for 1883
is as follows: revenue, £1,392,000; expenditures, £1,391,000;
showing £900 surplus; and being an increase of revenue to
the amount of £86,500 over the previous year. The increase
(about the same) in the expenditure is chiefly due to the ex-
penses incurred in reorganizing the Servian army on the Ger-
man system. The national debt is about £5,500,000, £3,500,000
being incurred for the new railway (Belgrade-Vranja), the
interest and amortization of which, during fifty years, is 6
per cent.; £1,500,000 for a lottery loan, to repay the war requi-
sition; £250,000 due to Russia; and £250,000 incurred in 1882
to pay the claims of the disinherited Turks in the annexed
provinces. The interest and expenses on the debt amount to
£310,000 in the budget for 1883. — The standing army of Ser-
via, on a peace footing, is 9,710 men—infantry, artillery, engi-
neers and cavalry. Besides the standing army, there is the
national militia; so that, on paper, in 1882, the total war force
of Servia amounted to 210 battalions, with 225,000 men in all.,
SEWARD.
SHIMONOSEKI INDEMNITY. 707
SESSIONS OF CONGRESS. (See CoNGRESS,
SESSIONS OF.)
SEWARD, William H., was born at Florida,
IN. Y., May 16, 1801, and died at Auburn, N. Y.,
Oct. 10, 1872. He was graduated at Union in
1820, was admitted to the bar in 1822, and entered
political life as an “anti-mason.” (See ANTI-
MASONRY.) He was a member of the state senate
1830–34, and, on the union of the various elements
of opposition into the whig party, he became its
candidate for governor. Defeated in 1834, he was
elected in 1838 and 1840. In 1849, he became
United States senator from New York, and at once
became the most prominent of the anti-slavery
whigs. He had organized a faction of his own
way of thinking in the state, in opposition to the
Fillmore, or “silver gray,” whigs, and seems to
have believed that he would finally be as success-
ful with the national party. The attempt was a
failure; but Seward’s speeches in the senate made
him the acknowledged leader of the new repub-
lican party from its first organization. In one of
them, he made the startling assertion that there
was a higher law in politics than the constitution.
But the vigor of his speeches had made him a dan-
gerous candidate for a new party; and, although
he confidently expected the nomination for the
presidency in 1860, it was given to Lincoln. Nev-
ertheless, he became Lincoln's secretary of state
in 1861, and served until 1869. (See ALABAMA
CLAIMs, RECONSTRUCTION.) See Baker's Life of
W. H. Seward; Welles' Lincoln, and Seward; C.
F. Adams' Memorial Address on Seward; Jenkins'
This army has 810 officers, and some 300 pieces of artillery.
The army is, however, being reorganized on the German sys-
tem. By the new law every able-bodied Servian will be in
the army from his twentieth to his fiftieth year. At twenty
he enters for two years the regular army, afterward passing
into the reserve until he reaches his thirtieth year. From
thirty to thirty-seven he is in the first-class militia, and from
thirty-seven until fifty in the second-class militia. The in-
fantry will have fifteen battalions, and the cavalry two regi-
ments. The total war force will be 135 battalions, with 160,000
men. — Servia had, in 1883, a population of nearly 1,750,000.
The inhabitants are almost entirely Slaves, the Turkish popu-
lation on the territory (4,250 square miles) acquired from Tur-
Key by the Berlin treaty having rapidly disappeared. There
are less than 2,000 Jews (who have much of the commerce of
the country in their hands). The gypsy population, it is stated,
is turning to the cultivation of the land, on the advantageous
terms offered to them by the government. — The state is di-
vided into twenty-one counties. In religion Servia is almost
independent of the patriarch of Constantinople. There are
about 10,000 Roman Catholics, chiefly subjects of Austria-
Hungary, with about 460 Protestants. The excess of births
Over deaths amounted to 15,355 in 1880, and to 36,836 in 1881.
—The chief trade of Servia is with Austria. Besides, with
that country, as remarked above, commercial intercourse is
mainly carried on with France, the United States, Turkey
and Roumania. The total imports are officially valued at
about £2,000,000, and the exports at considerably less, mainly
to and from Austria and Turkey. Live animals are the
chief article of export, particularly pigs, which are kept
in countless herds, feeding on the acorns which cover the
ground for miles. Large quantities of cereals, hides and
prunes, are also exported. The commercial resources of Ser-
via are as yet wholly undeveloped, chiefly for want of roads,
but a railway from Belgrade to Vranja is being constructed.
There are 1,370 miles of telegraph.-F. M. . . . . .
Governors of New York, 607; Savage's Living Rep-
pesentative Men, 404; W. H. Seward’s Works.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
SEYMOUR, Horatio, was born in Pompey,
Onondaga county, New York, in 1811, studied
and practiced law for a time, and was elected
mayor of Utica in 1840, and member of the legis-
lature in 1841. He there became one of the leaders
of the conservative, or hunker, democrats, sup-
porting Gov. Bouck's administration. In the dem-
ocratic dissensions which followed, he took no
active part on either side, and, in 1850, was unan-
imously nominated for governor by a united con-
vention of all the factions, and was beaten by about
300 votes in a poll of about 430,000. In 1852, he
was again nominated, and was elected. In 1854,
he was again the regular candidate in the “scrub-
race” of that year, and was defeated by Clark,
the fusion (afterward republican) candidate, by 309
votes. In 1862 he was again elected governor, by
about 11,000 majority over Wadsworth, republic-
an. (See DRAFTS.) His party orthodoxy, together
with his moderate and conciliatory course, had
long since made him the recognized leader of the
New York democratic party; and the inclination
toward him spread until, in 1868, the national
convention nominated him, against his own desire,
for president. He was defeated, and has since
refused to take any active part in politics. (See
DEMOCRATIC PARTY, WI.) See Savage's Repre-
sentative Men, 428; Jenkins’ Governors of New
York, 706; Croly’s Lives of Seymour and Blair
(1868); McCabe's Life of Seymour (1868).
- ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
SHAY's REBELLION. (see Confedera.
TION, ARTICLES OF.) & }
SHERMAN, John, was born at Lancaster, O.,
May 10, 1823, was admitted to the bar in 1844,
and entered political life as a whig. He was a
republican congressman from Ohio, 1855–61, and
United States senator, 1861–77. He then became
Secretary of the treasury under Hayes, serving
with such brilliant success that, in 1880, he was
one of the three leading candidates for the repub-
lican presidential nomination. (See REPUBLICAN
PARTY, III.) See Sherman's Select Speeches and
Reports. A. J.
SHIMONosfºr INDEMNITY. The town
of Shimonoséki commands the narrow straits
leading into the Inland sea from the Sea of Japan,
which, at this point, are about a half-mile wide.
On June 25, 1863, in obedience to orders from the
mikado to close the straits, the clansmen of Chö-
shiu fired on the American steamer Pembroke, but
without injury to the vessel. On July 16, by or-
der of the minister of the United States, Capt.
McDougall, of the United States steamship Wy-
oming, attacked the batteries, and sunk two ves-
sels moored under them. French and Dutch ves-
| sels, being fired on, also shelled the batteries, the
708
SHINTO.
French with a landing force destroying one of the
redoubts. On Sept. 5, 1864, a combined squadron
of one American, nine British, three French and
four Dutch ships of war, with 208 guns and 7,590
men, attacked the forts and destroyed them. The
American portion of this force consisted of the
chartered steamer Takiang, with one Parrot gun,
commanded by Lieut. Pearson, who had 258 men
under him ; the expenses being in all less than
$25,000. The allied representatives claimed from
the shögun's government, at Yedo, compensation
for damage done, $420,000, or $140,000 apiece to
the Dutch, French and Americans, out of the “in-
demnity” of $3,000,000, to be divided among the
four treaty powers, making the share of Great
Britain $645,000, and of each of the others $785,-
000. The bill presented for damage to the Pem-
broke (loss of time, freight and passengers) was
$10,000; the further claim for “annuities to dead
and wounded” of the Wyoming, not being allowed.
The last installment of the indemnity was paid to
the treaty powers by the mikado's government in
Tökiö, in 1875. This “Shimonoséki Indemnity
Fund,” deposited in the treasury of the United
States, amounting, in 1882, with interest, to more
than double the original Sum, has never been ap-
plied to public use, the whole business being looked
upon, as it indeed was, as iniquitous and extor-
tionate. A bill authorizing the return of this
money to Japan, after deducting a small part of
it for the officers and men of the Wyoming, has
repeatedly passed one house of congress.”
W. E. G.
SHINT0. We shall improve the space at our
command by outlining the features of pure Shintô,
the indigenous religion of Japan, which has ex-
erted so great a political influence upon the empire,
which is so enthusiastically studied by Anglo-
Japanese scholars, which has given rise to a large
portion of modern Japanese literature, including
the finest works of erudition in the language,
which furnishes the basis of some vigorous polem-
ics against advancing Christianity, and the orig-
inal scriptures of which have been denominated
by Basil Hall Chamberlain “the earliest authentic
and connected literary product of that large divi-
sion of the human race which has been variously
denominated Turanian, Tartar and Altaic, * *
even preceding by at least a century the most
ancient extant literary compositions of non-Aryan
India.” — The pure Japanese term for the native
religion is Kami no Michi, the Way of the Gods;
or, Religion of the Kami. The later and more gon-
cise Chinese term, Shintó (Shin god, and to doc-
trine, i. e., theology), was invented to distinguish it
from the Way or doctrine of the Chinese sages, or
of Buddha. Tö in Shintô is the same as the Tau
of Lao-tse, or Tauism. It seems no longer doubt-
ful that the Japanese islands were peopled by a
race from northeastern Asia, who made their way
* Since this article was written, the indemnity has been
paid, but paid without interest.
from the continent through Corea, long before
Buddhism entered China, or before Chinese cul-
ture had greatly influenced the nations around
the Middle Kingdom. The invaders found on the
Soil the Ainós and other tribes, whom they subdued
as they moved northwardly and westwardly. They
obtained ascendency, not only by their superior
arms and prowess, but by their fetiches and relig-
ious beliefs. The political order established by
the conquerors resembled feudalism, and of the
many shrines, established upon the allotted lands.
by the victors or their descendants, for the rev-
erence of ancestors, some attained great eminence
and renown. The invaders professed to have come
Originally from heaven, and so called themselves.
the heavenly race, and their ancestors the heaven-
ly gods, while their serfs or conquered people
were the earthly race, and their chiefs the earthly
gods. – Until the introduction of writing from
China, in the fourth century, the prayers, odes.
and traditions of this essentially ancestral cult.
were handed down from mouth to mouth and
were not committed to writing until the eighth.
century. Upon the introduction of Buddhism, in
552 A. D., which served to spread Chinese literary
culture, the superiority of both the religious and
the literary forms and codes of India and China.
were so apparent that native developments were
Smitten with paralysis, and, instead of originating,
the people borrowed wholesale. Ancient Japan-
ese civilization may be compared to the wooden
caissons, on which modern engineers build their
lofty towers of bridge masonry; for soon after the
Kojiki (Book of Ancient Records) 711–12 A. D.,
and the Nihongi (Chronicles of Japan) 720 A.D.,
were completed, all that was peculiar to ancient.
Japan was rapidly overlaid by Chinese institutions
and culture in every department of human activ-
ity, and the old features of national life and faith
faded from view. In 927 A. D. the code of cere-
monial law, Engishiki, was reduced to writing,
though in reality it contains a ritual older in many
portions than the historic period, which latter,
in the light of present historical research, can not
probably be stretched beyond 400 A. D. — The
Kojiki pictures creation as evolution out of chaos,
in which matter existed before intelligence, the
first imperfectly formed beings springing like
sprouts from the warm mud, and arriving at com-
pleted spirit and form only after successive stages
of advance. Japan was the first created land, and
the first pair, Izanagi and Izanami, furnished the
Japanese archipelago with everything needful,
and populated it with gods, men and animals.
Heaven and earth were still united, but gradually
a separation took place. The most famous child
of the divine pair was a daughter, who became the
sun. Her grandson, Ninigi, was sent from heaven
to earth to subdue the turbulent inhabitants, who,
in multiplying, became rebellious. Descending
from the skies to mount Kirishima in Hiuga, Kiu-
shiu, he subdued his enemies, and his grandson,
Hohodémi, born of a dragon mother, set out on a.
tour of conquest, and fixing his scat of govern-
: SHINTO.
709
ment near Kióto, became the first mikado of Japan,
being, many centuries afterward, canonized as
Jimmu Tennö. By an edict of the 123d mikado,
Mutsuhito, promulgated Dec. 15, 1872, the date of
Jimmu's accession to the throne was fixed at 660
B. C., so that the Japanese year corresponding to
1883 A.D. is 2543d of the Japanese empire. The
mikado is thus the personal centre of the Shintô
religion, which consists in the practice of the wor-
ship of ancestors, of the sun and other forces of
nature, of the gods of grain, of the trees, of the
watercourses, of the roads, and of various local in-
fluences. Even animals, trees, swords and jewels
were, in the primeval cult, called kami, and thus
deified, though not probably worshiped. Some of
the kami were evil, some good. —The Japanese
mythology is abundant, fanciful, extravagant, and
far from being harmonious inits statements. Three
cycles of myths are distinguished by Mr. Cham-
berlain, having their origin respectively in Kiu-
shiu, Yamato and Idzumo. All the deities of Shintö
were once men, and the chief of them are now
worshiped by the leading noble families of theim-
perial court as their ancestors. It is to be noticed,
that while ideas or expressions from the Chinese
classics are to be detected in the Kojiki, the ancient
liturgies are in pure Japanese. In addition to
these monuments of the archaic speech, special
prayers and hymns are still composed on great Oc-
casions, a notable instance being that in Kióto, in
1868. On this occasion the mikado took an oath
to form a parliament for the discussion of national
affairs, and the most solemn invocations were
made to the Heavenly Gods to ratify the august
vow which became the foundation of the new gov-
•ernment. Yet, notwithstanding its impressive
ritual, Shintô, in comparison with Buddhism or
the system of Confucius, lacks dogma and formu-
lated codes; teaching no ethics, unless reverence to
the dead and unquestioning submission to the mi-
kado's will may be called ethics. Most of the el-
‘ements composing positive religion are absent, such
as precise doctrines, casuistry, a polemic propagan-
da, and distinctly marked ministers of religion. In
its unpainted and ungilded shrines, severely sim-
ple, and built on the type of the dwelling house
of ancient Japan, are no idols, or emblems, except
the notched strips of white paper—the economical
substitute for the ancient offerings of white silk.
Closets may contain written prayers, and vases the
same or folded paper, while offerings of fruits,
grain and fish, are made at stated Seasons. The
ancient torić (bird rest), or perch for the Sacred
chanticleers, have now become the holy archways
through which worshipers approach the shrine.
In stone or wood, red or unpainted, these “gate-
ways” are as striking objects in the landscapes of
Japan as are spires in northern christendom. An-
cient sacrifices, as the liturgies show, consisted of
rice-beer, grain, fine cloth, coarse silk, brocade,
and boars and cocks, which latter, however, were
never slaughtered. Actual lustrations and prayers
for cleansing were frequent, and now survive in
the washings of the hands and rinsings of the
mouths of worshipers. Indeed, the radical idea
of offenses was that of defilement, and that of
amendment purification. The religious distinction
between “good” and “bad” was, in general,
“clean” and “unclean.” Mr. Ernest Satow, in
“The Mythology and Religious Worship of the
Ancient Japanese ’’ (Westminster Review, No.
CCXXvii., p. 25), says that of the two classes the
Asiatic invaders were agriculturists, while the
primitive inhabitants were hunters or fishermen,
and that the “heavenly ” Offenses mentioned in
the rituals were those peculiar to an agricultu-
ral class living among a people pursuing differ-
ent hereditary occupations, while the “earthly.”
offenses were more general in their nature. —
Left alone by itself, Shintô might have devel-
oped into a perfected system, with all the appur-
tenances of a religion properly so called. This,
however, was not so to be. Instead of resisting
Buddhism, it became, in contact with it, weaker
and weaker in the struggle for existence. It
was not only overlaid by Buddhism, but, in the
ninth century, it was practically absorbed by the
India cult through the Philo-like irenicon of Kö-
bö, a Japanese priest, learned and perhaps un-
scrupulous, who, after a professed revelation from
the kami, proclaimed that all the chief gods of
Shintó, the native heroes and patriarchs, were but
previous imperfect manifestations of Buddha to
Japan before his avatar as the perfect teacher to
India. The native myths, legends and doctrines
were explained according to Buddhist ideas, the
old gods were baptized with Buddhist names and
titles, and henceforth Shintô, as a religious sys-
tem, except in a few obscure temples, and among
a few noble families, among which its purity was
Sacredly maintained, disappeared from view, and
was utterly forgotten by the mass of the people.
When, however, in the seventeenth century, the
political genius of Iyeyasu gave “the peace of
absolutism,” after centuries of civil war, and
scholars had leisure for research, a school of zeal-
ous Shintô scholars arose. The ancient texts were
unearthed, deciphered, edited and lectured upon
with literary acumen and polemic zeal. Shintö
was again set forth in its primal purity, appealing
alike to patriotism and the religious instinct. The
logical consequences followed. The conviction
flashed itself upon the minds of those who espe-
cially hated the despotism of the Tokugawa rulers
at Yedo, that if the mikado was the descendant
and representative of the Heavenly Gods of the
Divine Country (Japan), he ought, by virtue of
his divine descent, to reign as emperor, as well
as pope, and rule his people without a lieutenant
between himself and them. Reverence for the
mikado and hatred of the usurper increased,
forming a public opinion hostile to the duarchy.
When the revolution of 1868 broke out, the most
potent moral force behind the cannon balls of the
imperialists was the belief in the divinity of the
mikado and in his right to govern in person, and
expel the alien from the polluted Land of the
Gods (Japan). The shögunate was abolished, and
710
SIAM.
duarchy ceased. No sooner was the new govern-
ment established in Tökiö than the Buddhist em-
blems and ritual war purged from the ancient
Shintô temples, and in place of incense, gilding,
images and altars, were seen the austere simplicity
of virgin wood, white paper and natural offerings.
A vigorous propaganda throughout the empire
ensued, and for a time it seemed as though Japan
was to be led back to the ideas and mental attitude
of a world that had passed away fifteen centuries
before. But such a miracle was not to be wrought.
Experience soon showed the mikado's ministers
that in the nineteenth century men could not be
born again into the primitive barbaric age. The
foreigners refused to be expelled. – With the rev-
olutionary movement came the multifarious de-
mands of complex government, foreign relations
and popular rights. Practical politics jostled
state religion aside, and the ancient Council of
the Gods of Heaven and Earth (Jin-gi Kuan)
which had once outranked the Council of the
Great Government (Dai-jö Kuan) was reduced
first to a department, then to a bureau, again to a
sub-bureau, and finally, in 1880, abolished utterly.
Nevertheless, Shintô is still a living force with
millions of the Japanese; and the grave problem
now before the minds of earnest patriots is the
transmutation of the old popular reverence for the
throne and person of the mikado as divine, into
the new loyalty of intelligent respect. The period
between the disintegration of old sanctions and
motives and the inrooting and growth into strength
of new political habits of thought, is always a pe-
riod fraught with peril, but it is to be hoped that
with the decay of the old may come a purer and
stronger religious faith as well as new political
theory and fabric, and that the throne of the old-
est living dynasty on earth may find even a se-
curer foundation than the stilts of myth, when
resting upon constitutional foundations “broad-
based upon the people's will.” — LITERATURE.
Nearly all the best writing upon Shinto is found
in the Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan,
by Ernest Satow and Basil Hall Chamberlain.
See also Westminster Review, July, 1878, and The
Mikado's Empire, New York.
- W.M. ELLIOT GRIFFIS.
SIAM. When first known to the Portuguese
explorers of the sixteenth century, this country,
full of brown-skinned people, or “Moors,” was
called Siam, from a Malay word (Sáyám) meaning
“brown race,” and quite unknown as a proper
name to the Siamese, who call their land Muang
Tai, “The Free Kingdom.” This national desig-
nation of the Tai people is significant of the vic-
tory of Buddhism, which knows no caste, over
Brahmanism, in which men are fixed, as by decrees
of predestination, in various ranks of subordina-
tion to the Brahmans. Tai (Siam) constantly re-
joices in its deliverance from the dogmas of caste,
and in the purity of its Buddhism, which is of the
“Southern ?? or less modified form of Shaka Mu-
ni's teachings. Occupying the heart of the Indo-
Chinese peninsula, Siam proper is, geographically,
the basin of the Meinam river. A long, narrow
strip of land, which runs southward from the
head of the gulf of Siam to near latitude 4,
forms the isthmus of Kraw, and nearly half of the
lessening “Malay” peninsula. The other front-
agers of Siam are the wealthy Chinese province
of Yunnan on the north, and Annam and Cam-
bodia on the east and south. Siam is thus an axe-
shaped country, with an extreme length of 1,350
miles, with a breadth varying from 60 to 400
miles, with a coast line nearly equal to its land
frontiers. The greater portion of the kingdom is
an unexplored wilderness of forest land, the settled
portion consisting of teeming alluvial plains, which
in many respects resemble the Nile lands of Egypt.
The reports of the area vary from 320,000 to
180,000 square miles, a fact which is due partly
to genuine ignorance of topography, and partly to
the elastic nature of boundaries in those portions.
whose inhabitants fluctuate in their loyalty to the
lord of the golden umbrella. Politically, the neigh-
bors of Siam are the British in Burmah and Wel-
lesley province, the Malays in the peninsula, the
Chinese, the Cambodians, the Annamese, and the
French who are near enough for possible close
relations. The vassalage of some of the people
under Siamese rule is of a nominal character; but
the tendency is to the increase, rather than the
contrary, of Siamese supremacy. Two seasons, the
wet and the dry, rule the year. Most of the habit-
able portion of the Meinam's basin is overflowed
from June to August, by which latter month the
snows of Thibet have fully melted, and the cit-
ies and villages rise like islands out of the Nile-
like flood, the people living in boats and moving
over the crops beneath. This abundance of never-
failing water in a tropical land makes it a perpetual
garden. Plant life attains its maximum, and ani-
malforms are abundant. The dry season lasts from
November to April. The thermometer ranges.
from 64° to 99°, averaging 81°. On the whole,
the climate is salubrious, though malarial disorders.
prevail during the wet season. Europeans, with
an occasional visit to a cooler climate, can main-
tain health, and work during most of the days.
of the year. Food is excessively cheap, clothing
light, and shelter easily erected. The people
manifest the traits of a weak and passive race.
Their bodies are frail and slim, and their minds.
quick rather than strong. Their virtues and
vices are those usually found in a climate in
which nature is an over-indulgent mother, and
are fostered by a religion that, like southern Bud-
dhism, of which Siam is the citadel, is full of in-
tellectual subtlety, but allows little outward man-
ifestation. — Most of the land was formerly held
on a semi-feudal tenure, the farming population
being kept in practical serfdom, and compelled
to work at forced labor during portions of the
year. This system of debt-slavery which formerly
prevailed, by which millions of debtors in bondage
to creditors were branded with the Seal or mark.
of their owners, is now radically modified, and
SIAM.
711
is in course of extinction. Yet the rice is still
badly cultivated; and, notwithstanding the fertil-
ity of the soil, famines are far from unknown.
Yet better methods of agriculture are being intro-
duced. The old plan of driving herds of buffa-
loes over the fields to level the weeds and turn
up the soil, which was afterward harrowed with
thorny shrubs, has given way to improved labor,
which has greatly increased the output of cereals,
and made the export of grain possible and profit-
able. Rice, cotton, Sugar, indigo, various woods,
gums, spices, metals and ivory are now exported.
— Of the 12,000,000 souls under Siamese rule,
one-third only are of the Tai race, another third
are Chinese, the remainder being Laotians, Malays,
Hindoos, Cambodians, etc. The Siamese are a
mixed people, sprung from Mongolian and Aryan
ancestors, and possess the mental and physical
traits of both the Hindoos and the Chinese.
Nearly half of the words in their language have
their roots in Sanskrit. The written language
has an alphabet of sixty-four letters, of which
forty-four are consonants and twenty vowels.
Like most alphabets or syllabaries of Chinese Asia,
the Siamese system has been derived from ancient
India by Buddhism, though in this instance me-
diately through Cambodia, the ancient Cambo-
dian character being still used in their sacred books.
The vocabulary, which is meagre and mostly
monosyllabic, is eked out by tonic inflections, by
which one word does duty for several distinct
meanings. The language is simple in structure,
with few idioms, and in general features resembles
Chinese. The spelling, like that of Corea, and
most countries having an alphabet unnecessarily
large, is in a state of chaos. Writing is from left
to right. The national literature is of local im-
portance only, most of what is excellent in it
being borrowed from Chinese or Hindoo sources,
or closely formed on foreign models. The Bud-
dhist writings are very voluminous. The homely
wisdom and keen wit of the people are best ex-
pressed in their proverbs. Education is almost
entirely in the hands of the priests, who constitute
a large and influential class. Siam for over 1,200
years has been intensely and only Buddhist, and
it is estimated that the priests obtain for their
personal and bodily support alone, the sum of
$25,000,000 annually. — The government is nom-
inally a duarchy, the Supreme king possessing
about two-thirds, and the lesser king one-third, of
the power, the latter acting as a prime minister or
first counselor, though, like the other high nobles,
taking semi-annually the oath of allegiance to the
supreme king. The legislative power is vested in
a council of state and the Senabawdi or ministry;
the former consisting of from ten to twenty coun-
selors, presided over by the king, with the minis-
ters who sit without voting; and the latter, of the
ministers or heads of departments. The king
can not promulgate laws without the consent of
this council, which also confirms the succession to
the throne, which, though nominally hereditary,
is not always to the eldest son. — The untrust-
worthy annals of the Siamese extend back centu-
ries before Christ, but history, in the modern crit-
ical sense, begins with the founding of the capital,
Ayuthia, A. D. 1850. The civil era, as used by
the ruling dynasty, begins at 638 A.D., so that the
present year 1883 is the 1245th of Siam. In the
sixteenth century the Siamese extended their sway
over Cambodia and the Malay peninsula. Among
the people trading with them, or serving in their
armies, were the Japanese. Relations with Eu-
rope were first established in 1513, when the king
of Siam sent an embassy with gifts to the great
Portuguese buccaneer Albuquerque, who had
conquered Malacca. Commerce with Portugal
was established, and in 1604 the Dutch took a
share in the profits of trading between Bangkok
and Europe on the one hand and Nagasaki on the
other. The first English vessel arrived at Ayuthia
in 1612. Later on a Greek adventurer, named
Phaulkon, who had found his way to Siam, in-
gratiated himself in the king's favor, was ap-
pointed by degrees to high office, and persuaded
the Siamese to send an embassy to France. This
was done, the envoys, visiting Paris, and also
London, concluding treaties with Louis XIV. and
Charles II. The French king sent out embassies
in 1685 and 1687, and through the influence or
treachery of Phaulkon, a force of five hundred
French soldiers were given possession of the cita-
del at Bangkok, which they held until 1690, when
they were expelled, and French influence suffered
a bloody, decisive overthrow. In 1782 the Bur-
mans, having invaded Siam, sacked and burned
Ayuthia, the present ruling dynasty was founded,
and the capital removed to Bangkok. Since the
foundation of Ayuthia, in 1350 A. D., forty sov-
ereigns have ruled over Muang Tai. Treaties with
the East India company were made in 1822 and
1825. The American sea captain Edmund Rob-
erts, of Portsmouth, N. H., was commissioned by
President Jackson to make a treaty with Siam,
which was accomplished March 20, 1833. Town-
send Harris, in 1856, negotiated a second treaty on
behalf of the United States, which allowed greater
privileges to American citizens. The court of
Bangkok has already signified its intention of send-
ing an embassy to the United States, and of es-.
tablishing a legation at Washington. The present
king, Chulalankarana I., born Sept. 21, 1853, suc-
ceeded his father Oct. 1, 1868. The second king
is George Washington (Kroma Phraracha). Dur-
ing the past two generations, the American mis-
sionaries in Siam have been very active in pro-
moting science, education and the introduction
of American ideas, methods and machinery, and
have been very influential for good at the court.
The present kings are well educated, and have
begun a series of reforms which promise a new
life for the nation, , and show that Siam, like
Japan, has begun to abandon Asiatic ideals of
civilization, and to put herself in harmony with
the political ideas of Christendom. In regard to
education, schools after the American model have
been established for sons of nobles, and an increas-
712
SILVER.
ing number of Siamese young men are being edu-
cated in western science and literature. Dress
and etiquette are less restricted by servile customs,
trade is being gradually unfettered, and in place
of the old fractional currency in paper promises,
bronze tokens, minted in England, form, with the
silver coins stamped with the effigy of a white
elephant, the circulating medium of commerce.
— In 1880 the foreign trade was valued at
$10,000,000, the imports being mainly hardware,
machinery, dry goods and opium, with which lat-
ter article Americans have nothing to do. An
increasing fleet of steamers, and square-rigged
vessels in the commercial marine, and war vessels
after the British model, and army drilled accord-
ing to western tactics, the adoption of a national
a
flag bearing the design of a white elephant on
a crimson field, the granting of perfect religious
freedom, the abdition of slavery and feudal or
debt bondage, and the beginnings of a diplomatic
usage similar to that of western nations, illustrate
the earnestness of the rulers of Siam to enter the
comity of nations and pursue national prosperity
along the lines marked out by the leading govern-
ments of the earth. — LITERATURE. Crawfurd’s
Embassy to Siam, London, 1628; Pallogoix, De-
Scription du Royaume Thai, Paris, 1854; Bowring's
JKingdom and People of Siam, London, 1857; Le-
onowen's An English Governess at the Court of
Siam, Boston, 1870; Vincent's Land of the White
Elephant, New York, 1874; Diplomatic Corrè-
spondence of the United States, 1868.
- 9 W.M. ELLIOT GRIFFIS.
SILVER, one of the precious metals, of a white
color, and, when polished, of a brilliant, shining
lustre, scarcely inferior to that of highly polished
steel. It is next to gold in malleability, ductility
and resistance to oxidation in air and water. Rel-
atively to gold, its tenacity is about one-fourth,
and power of electrical conduction about one-third
greater, and its power of conducting heat as 973
to 1,000. In modern chemistry, the symbol for
silver is ag., from the Latin name argentum, de-
noting silver; its atomic weight, 108. Molecular
weight, 216; hardness, 2.5–3. Specific gravity,
when pure, 10.5. It fuses at about 1873 Fah., and
volatilizes at a higher temperature. When melted,
it absorbs oxygen, of which it may take up twen-
ty-two times its own volume, and which it expels
on cooling with a peculiar sound known as spit-
ting. — Silver is dissolved by nitric acid at all
temperatures, and by hot concentrated sulphuric
acid. It can be alloyed with many other metals.
Alloys of gold and silver are of a greenish white
color, more ductile, harder and more sonorous than
either metal; 50 parts of silver in 1,000 are suffi.
cient to lower the color of gold. Silver increases
the toughness of gold, and gold coins containing
a small per cent. of silver are less liable to abra-
sion than if alloyed with copper alone. Gold al-
loyed with 30 per cent. of silver has a greenish
color; with two-thirds silver, pale or white. The
color of silver is not modified by a copper alloy
up to about 350 parts in 1,000. Alloys of silver
and copper have a less specific gravity than the
mean of the two metals, and are harder and more
ductile, elastic and Sonorous than pure silver. The
maximum of hardness is reached by an addition
of 200 parts of copper. — Silver is found in its
native state, and also occurs in combination
with other substances in the form of ores and
alloys, but is principally obtained from its sul-
phide, and from those ores of which it is a
variable constituent, but existing in such large
quantities as to be an object of metallurgical
operations. – The native metal is usually al-
loyed with a small quantity of copper, gold, and
sometimes antimony, bismuth, mercury or plati-
num. It occurs in masses, and in fine and coarse
threads, but generally has the appearance of me-
tallic twigs and branches. A mass taken from the
Konigsberg mines, in Norway, in the royal collec-
tion at Copenhagen, weighs upward of 500 pounds.
A mass discovered at Huantaya, Peru, weighed 800
pounds; while another in Sonora, Mexico, is said
to have weighed 2,700. A specimen from Batopi-
las, Mexico, weighed 400 pounds.-Metallic silver
has also been found in Saxony, Bohemia, Hungary,
and in the Hartz, Altai, Ural, and some of the Corn-
ish mines; While in the United States it is found
in some of the mines in North Carolina, Colorado,
Utah, Nevada and California. In the Lake Su-
perior region, the silver generally penetrates the
copper in masses and strings, and is nearly pure,
notwithstanding the copper about it. — The fol-
lowing are some of the most important silver
OréS : º e - -
Silver in combination with Sulphur.
Argentite—Silver glance–Sulphide of silver. This is the
Common and most valuable ore of silver, and possesses
considerable malleability. It has a metallic lustre, is of
a dark gray color, shining streak and an uneven fracture.
Its composition is: Sulphur, 12.9; silver, 87.1. Hardness,
2–2.5. Specific gravity, 7.196-7.365.
Stephanite—Brittle silver ore. Lustre metallic, color and
streak iron-black, fracture uneven. Composition : Sul-
phur, 16.2; antimony, 15.3; silver, 68.5. Hardness, 2-2.5.
Specific gravity, 6.269.
Polybasite. This mineral contains from 65 to 75 per cent. of
silver, in combination with sulphur, copper, arsenic and
antimony. Lustre, metallic; color and streak, iron-black;
fracture, uneven. Hardness, 2–3. Specific gravity, 6.214.
Pyrargyrite—Ruby silver—Dark red silver ore. The dark red
or antimonial variety, contains sulphur, 17.7; antimony,
22.5; silver, 59.8. Lustre, metallic, adamantine; color,
black, sometimes approaching Cochineal red ; streak,
cochineal red. Hardness, 2–2.5. Specific gravity, 5.7–5.9.
Pyroustite—Ruby silver—Light red silver ore. The light red
or arsenical variety contains sulphur, 19.4; arsenic, 15.1;
silver, 65.5. Lustre, adamantine; color and streak, coch-
ineal red; fracture, uneven. Hardness, 2-2.5. Specific
gravity, 5.42–5.56.
Stromeyerite—Sulphide of silver and copper. Composition:
sulphur, 15.7; copper, 31.2; silver, 53.1. Lustre, metallic;
color, dark steel gray; streak, Shining ; fracture, Sub-
conchoidal. Hardness, 2.5–3. Specific gravity, 6.2–6.3.
Sternbergite—Sulphide of silver and iron. Composition,
nearly equal parts of sulphur, iron and silver. Lustre,
metallic; color, pinchbeck brown; streak, black. Hard-
ness, 1-1.5. Specific gravity, 4.21. It resembles graph-
ite, and, like it, leaves a tracing on paper. '
Miargyrite—Sulphide of silver and antimony. Composition:
sulphur, 21.8; antimony, 41.5: Silver, 36.7. Lustre, sub-
metallic: color, iron-black ; streak, dark cherry red ;
fracture, subconchoidal. Hardness, 2-2.5. Sp. gr., 5.4.
SILVER.
713
Treieslebenite. An antimonial silver and lead sulphide, con-
taining about 24 per cent. of silver. Lustre, metallic ;
color, steel gray. Hardness, 2–2.5. Specific gravity,
6–6.4.
Silver fahlore—Gray copper ore. A compound of silver,
copper, iron, antimony, arsenic, Sulphur, zinc and lead,
and sometimes gold and mercury, containing silver in
variable proportions up to 31 per cent. Sometimes this
metal is almost entirely wanting, Lustre, metallic:
color, steel gray to iron-black; streak, brown or black.
Hardness, 3–4.5. Specific gravity, 4.5–5.1. This ore is
quite common, but the silver is obtained from it with the
greatest difficulty.
ASilver in combination with Chlorine, Bromine and Iodine,
Cerargyrite—Chloride of silver—Horn silver. Composition:
chlorine, 24.7; silver, 75.3; but usually contains a small
quantity of the peroxide of iron. Lustre, resinous, pass-
ing into adamantine; color, pearl gray or grayish green,
and when pure becomes a violet brown on exposure :
streak, shining; fracture, conchoidal. Hardness, 1-1.5.
Specific gravity, 5.552. This ore resembles and cuts
somewhat like horn or wax, and will, by rubbing, silver
the surface of an iron plate. Its varieties are:
Iodide of silver. An admixture of iodine with 46 per cent.
of silver. Lustre, resinous; color, yellow; streak, yellow.
IBromide of silver. An admixture of bromine with 57.7
per cent. of silver. Lustre, splendent; color, bright
yellow.
Embolite.
parts.
Composed of chlorine 13, bromine 20, silver 67
Silver combined with Other Metals.
Bismuth silver. An ore containing from 15 to 60 per cent. of
silver. Lustre, metallic; color, grayish white.
INative amalgam. A compound of silver and mercury, the
per cent. of silver varying from 26.5 to 86.6, dependent
upon the manner in which it is combined. l
Dyscrasite, or antimonial silver. Consists simply of anti-
mony and silver; antimony 22, silver 78; and has a nearly
white color. Hardness, 3.5–4. Specific gravity, 9.4–9.8.
Silver combined with tellurium, or Telluride of silver (Hess-
ite). Composition: tellurium, 37.2; silver, 62.8. Lustre,
metallic ; color, steel gray. Hardness, 2–3.5. Specific
gravity, 8.3–8.6. It is slightly malleable.
Silver in combination with selenium; naumannite or sele-
nide of silver. Selenium, 26.8; silver, 73.2. Lustre, me-
tallic; color and streak, iron-black.
IEucairite—Films of silver and copper containing selenium.
Composition: selenium, 31.6; copper, 25.3; silver, 43.1.
Lustre, metallic ; color, lead gray; streak, Shining ; so
soft that it may easily be cut with a knife. It also tar-
nishes easily. -
—The processes for extracting silver from ore may
be grouped into three general divisions: amalgama-
tion, smelting, and lixiviation. In amalgamation,
the silver is collected by the use of mercury; in
smelting, it is made to combine with lead or cop-
per; and, in lixiviation, is drawn off in a solution
containing silver as the base, in combination with
acids. Each of these methods has processes which
differ, each from the others, methods known by the
names of the inventors, or of the localities where
first introduced. — Ores, for their metallurgical
treatment, are generally classified in reference to
their constituents, as well as the amount of silver
contained. Those from which the silver can be ob-
tained by simple mechanical processes, are called
“free milling ores.” Ores from which the silver
can be extracted by fusion at high temperatures
and then drawing off separately the earthy materi-
als and metals, as they arrange themselves accord-
ing to their specific gravities, are called “smelting
ores.” When ores do not readily part with their
silver by fusion, or by the use of chemicals and the
ordinary mechanical processes, they are called “re-
bellious” or “refractory.”— Amalgamation. The
method of extracting silver from ores by amalga-
mating them with mercury, was first discovered in
1557 by Bartolome Medina, a native of Pachuca,
Mexico, and has since that time, with some modifi-
cations, been in general and continuous use. Ores
treated by this process may be divided into classes,
dependent upon the amount of silver contained
and other substances associated with the silver,and
require somewhat different metallurgical treat-
ment. Ores containing silver combined with sul-
phur, chlorine, iodine or bromine, but free from
arsenic and antimony, which largely increase the
expense, together with the loss of both mercury
and silver, are most easily worked by amalgama-
tion. Such ores containing silver assaying less
than $150 to the ton, are generally treated by the
so-called Washoe or pan process, in which the ores
are first crushed to a suitable size, and then, by
means of a stamp mill, are pulverized in water
into particles of the size of fine sand, and subse-
quently are ground in cast-iron pans or amalgama-
tors with hot water and mercury, sometimes with,
and sometimes without, the addition of chemi-
cals. The silver and mercury, in the form of an
amalgam, are placed in small bags, through the
interstices of which the redundant mercury oozes
and is strained out. The remainder of the mercu-
ry is afterward vaporized and separated, by heat-
ing the amalgam in an iron retort. The silver,
alloyed with more or less of other metals left in
the retort, is melted into bars, while the condensed
mercury collected from the retort is again used
for amalgam. Qres of this character assaying be-
low $90 to the ton, require, for their treatment, a
longer time for amalgamation and a greater quan-
tity of chemicals and mercury. Ores assaying in
silver over $150 per ton, and associated with ar-
senic, antimony or iron, so as to render their re-
duction difficult, are generally crushed dry, roast-
ed with salt in a reverberatory furnace, and then
amalgamated in barrels. – Smelting. Silver and
lead in a state of fusion possess a strong affinity
for each other, and advantage is taken of this in
the reduction of argentiferous ores. When silver
exists in the ore in a metallic state, an alloy is
easily made by fusing together the ore and metal-
lic lead, or the ores of lead. In case silver is as-
sociated with large quantities of iron pyrites or
sulphides other than galena, the ore is frequently
fused for a matte, which is then roasted and re-
melted with lead, and from the alloy thus obtained
the silver is afterward separated. Lead and other
base metals are removed by different methods,
dependent upon the cost of the agents and mate-
rial employed, and the use to be made and value
of the base metals or of the by-products obtained.
— Leaching. To extract silver from ore by this
process the silver must enter into chemical com-
bination with some substance that will form with
it a soluble compound. Chlorine, under the
proper conditions, readily combines with silver,
714
SILVER.
and has been found the cheapest and most suita-
ble agent for this purpose. The silver is convert-
ed into a chloride by roasting the crushed ore in
a furnace with common salt, of which from 5 to
20 per cent. is used, according to the richness of
the ore. The chloride, being insoluble in water
alone, is leached out from the mass by running
through it a solution of calcium hyposulphite,
from which the silver is afterward precipitated
as a sulphide of silver by a solution of calcium
polysulphide (pentasulphide). The precipitated
sulphide, in the form of black mud, is collected,
roasted, dried, roasted and then melted at a high
temperature, with an addition of scrap iron, which
takes up the sulphur remaining after the roasting,
and reduces the silver to a metallic state. The
leaching process is quite satisfactory in its results
when it is desired to obtain silver bullion of
the highest degree of purity. — Silver Refining.
Silver is refined either by the dry method, fire, or
the wet process, acid. In refining by fire the base
metals are converted into their oxides and flow
from the melted silver, or are removed by absorp-
tion or dissolved in alkaline fluxes. Where large
amounts are to be operated upon, the silveris usu-
ally refined by cupellation in a reverberatory fur-
nace. The bullion is placed upon a cupellation
hearth, made of suitable material, such as crushed
slag, quartz and clay, bone-ash, calcareous marl,
composed chiefly of carbonate of lime and silicate
of alumina, etc., etc., the chief requisite being
that the cupel should be infusible, sufficiently
porous to absorb the oxides of the base metals,
and contain in its composition no reducing agent.
The base metals are oxidized by a current of air,
and run off as melted oxides, or are absorbed by
the cupel. Silver is brought without difficulty by
this process to a fineness of over 99 per cent. —
Refining by the use of oxidized fluxes is con-
ducted in crucibles, and the agent employed is
generally nitrate of potash or of soda. The ni-
trate is decomposed by the heat of the furnace;
its oxygen, combining with the base metals, forms
oxides, which are dissolved or held in suspension
by silicious or alkaline fluxes. Borate of soda is
the flux usually employed in the mints in refining.
— Silver is refined by the wet process by dissolv-
ing the bullion in acids, precipitating the silver
by chlorine, and subsequently reducing it to a
metallic state, or by precipitation with copper.
This is rarely employed otherwise than as an inci-
dent to the parting of gold and silver, or when
silver containing base metals can at the same time
be advantageously melted and used as alloy for
quartation in refining gold. This process is de-
scribed in the article on GOLD in Volume II.— Oc-
currence. Silver, though not so widely diffused
as gold, has been found in every grand division
and in many of the principal islands of the globe.
In ancient times it was obtained from Nubia and
other parts of Africa, from western Asia and many
countries in Europe, principally Spain, Hungary
and Austria, Germany, Turkey, and Russia.
Upon the discovery of America rich mines were
soon opened in the countries of South America
adjacent to the Pacific coast—Peru, Chili and Bo-
livia—and also in the northern and western por-
tions of Mexico.
Of late years it has been found
in greater abundance in the territories and western
states of the United States. – Production. Sil-
verseems to have been one of the earliest met-
als known, and, as money, is the first mentioned
by the ancient sacred and profane historians.
From the mines known to them considerable
quantities were obtained, although the methods
employed for treating the ores and refining the
metal were crude and expensive. Pliny states
that silver was found in all the Roman provinces,
and both he and Diodorus mention the Spanish
mines as the principal source. From the latter it.
is said that Hannibal extracted 300 pounds daily
(equal to $1,500,000 annually), and that one tun-
nel had penetrated a mile and a half into the
mountain.
Although new mines were from time
to time discovered, the total annual production of
silver, as well as the stock previously accumulated,
became gradually reduced until the discovery of
America. How much then existed in the world,
either in the form of coin or personal ornaments,
plate and bullion, is a matter of conjecture.
average yearly production for the first fifty-three
years after the discovery of America (1492 to 1545)
was, according to an estimate made in 1830 by
John White for the secretary of the treasury,
The
$640,000; according to Mr. Alex. Del Mar, for.
merly chief of the United States bureau of statis-
tics, $600,000; and according to Dr. Soetbeer,
$2,716,000. The total production of both gold
and silver in the western world, America, Europe
and Africa, from 1492 to 1800, on the estimates of
Mr. Jacob, would be $5,708,000,000; on those of
Danson, $5,482,000,000. Mr. White's estimate of
the silver production for the period amounts to
$3,725,000,000; Mr. Del Mar’s to $4,260,000,000,
and Dr. Soetbeer's to $4,855,000,000. Their esti-
mates of the gold production during the same
time are :
White, $1,675,000,000; Del Mar,
$1,872,300,000; Soetbeer, $2,332,000,000; which,
added respectively to their estimates of the silver
production, would make the total production, ac-
cording to Mr. Del Mar, $6,560,000,000, and
according to Dr. Soetbeer, $7,187,000,000, both of
which amounts exceed those given by Danson and
White. Mr. Del Mar’s estimate of the yearly pro-
duction of silver from 1800 to 1876 amounts to
$2,638,500,000, and adding to this the yearly pro-
duction for the remaining four years to 1880, as
estimated by the director of the mint, amounting
to $368,800,000, would bring Del Mar’s estimate
up to $3,007,300,000, which is $161,000,000 less
than Soetbeer's estimate. The total production
of silver in the western world, since the dis-
covery of America, would be, according to
Soetbeer, $8,034,819,000; according to Del Mar,
$7,267,300,000. — The yield of silver from the
mines of all the countries of the world in each
century since the discovery of America, has been
estimated by Dr. Soetbeer as follows: .
SILVER.
715

Value at the Coinage
PERIOD. Kilograms. Rate of the U. S.
Dollar.
1493–1600--- - - - - - - 22,834,400 $ 948,998,000
1601 – 1700--------- 37,234,000 1,547,445,000
1701 – 1800--------- 57,034,900 2,370,370,000
1801–1880-- - - - - - - 76,227,275 3,168,006,000
Total----------- 193,330,575 $8,034,819,000
— Among the silver-producing countries of the
world the United States stands first, and, with
Mexico and Bolivia, furnishes four-fifths of the
entire amount. Germany is fourth, with a yield
from her mines of nearly $9,000,000, followed by
Chili with $5,000,000, and Spain with $3,000,000.
The amount of silver obtained from the prin-
cipal silver-producing countries of the world in
1882 was stated by the director of the mint to be :
COUNTRIES. Kilograms. Value.
United States -------------------- 1,126,083 || $46,800,000
Russia --------------------------- 11,391 473,519
Australia ------------------------ 2,475 102,878
Mexico -------------------------- 703,508 29,237,798
Germany ------------------------ 214,982 8,934,652
Austria-Hungary----------------- 47,118 1,958,224
Sweden -------------------------- 1,176 48,875
Norway----------------------- - - - 4,812 199,987
Italy----------------------------- 43 17,949
Spain ---------------------------- 74,500 3,096,220
Turkey ------------------------ 2,164 89,916
Argentine Republic -------------- 10,109 420,225
Colombia ------------------------ 24,057 1,000,000
Bolivia--------------------------- 264,677 11,000,000
Chili----------------------------- 122,275 5,081,747
Japan---------------------------- 22,460 3.
Dominion of Canada ------------- 1,641 68,205
Total ------------------------ 2,633,860 || $109,446,595
The special report of the director of the mint on
the production of the precious metals in the United
States for 1882 makes the total yield for that year
in the United States $46,800,000. The largest
amount was obtained from Colorado, which pro-
duced $16,500,000, the greater part from the Lead-
ville mines. Arizona comes next, with $7,500,000,
mostly obtained from the Tombstone district;
then Utah, furnishing $6,800,000; while Nevada,
once first among the silver states, with a produc-
tion in 1878 of $28,000,000, now stands fourth with
but $6,750,000.
STATES AND TERRITORIES. 1881. 1882.
Arizona------------------------- $ 7,300,000 || $ 7,500,000
California----------------------- ,000 845,000
Colorado------------------------ 17,160,000 16,500,000
Dakota ------------------------- 70,000 175,000
Idaho--------------------------- 1,300,000 2,000,000
Maine--------------------------- 5,000 ||------------
Montana ------------------------ 2,630,000 4,370,000
Nevada --------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 7,060,000 6,750,000
New Mexico -------------------. 275,000 800,000
North Carolina------------------|-------------- 25,000
Oregon-------------------------- 50,000 35,000
Utah---------------------------- 6,400,000 6,800,000
Total ----------------------- $43,000,000 || $46,800,000
—Use and Consumption of Silver. Silver is largely
used in ornamentation, manufactures and coinage.
For these purposes it is almost invariably alloyed
with copper. In the United States the standard
for coin is 900 parts silver and 100 parts copper.
The English standard, called “sterling silver,”
contains 7.5 per cent. copper, with a fineness of
.925. In France several standards are employed :
950 parts for metals and plate, 900 for standard
silver coin, and 850 for bullion and subsidiary
coin. — A considerable amount of silver is annual-
ly consumed in the arts, and a larger quantity Con-
verted into plate or articles for personal ornamen-
tation. Silver is also dissolved in solutions, or
used in combination with acids, metals, or alka-
line bases in chemical and medicinal preparations,
and for manufacturing purposes, in a manner
which prevents its recovery for further use. When
silver is used for electro-plating, or beat into thin
leaves, but a small proportion, if any, can be again
collected. Nearly the whole is practically lost,
and unavailable for use in coinage or the arts, al-
though ornaments and plate of solid silver are
often remelted and used in coinage. But the sta-
tistics of all countries show that the plate and
jewelry annually brought to their mints for coin-
age are less than the amount of bullion of recent
production found to be annually appropriated for
ornamentation and in the arts, etc. At the United
States mints the silver of this character deposited
for conversion into coin or bars is scarcely one-
tenth of the $6,000,000 estimated to be consumed
in the United States in the arts, manufactures and
ornamentation. — Efforts have been made to as-
certain the silver appropriated in various countries.
and in the world for these purposes. In 1830 Mr.
W. Jacob published his work on the production.
and consumption of the precious metals, which
contained much valuable information on this sub-
ject. He placed the annual consumption of silver,
other than for coinage, at $4,000,000 for Great
Britain, and of gold and silver for Great Britain at
$12,000,000, and for Europe, $28,000,000. The
inquiries instituted in 1879 by the United States
director of the mint, and continued for three years,
to ascertain the amount thus consumed in the
United States, elicited replies which for the year
1881 showed that 1,143 persons and firms con-
sumed in their business over $3,000,000 of silver
for the purposes and of the character and descrip-
tion stated as follows:

United States coins ------------------------------ $ 72,190
Fine bars ---------------------------------------- 3,127,432
Foreign coin, jewelry, plate, etc. ----------------- 188,799
Total ---------`-- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - $3,388,421
—Inquiries were also made, at the request of the
director of the mint, through representatives of
the United States government, as to the consump-
tion of silver in foreign countries. From the in-
formation obtained in this manner, and from other
sources, the director in 1881 estimated that the an-
nual consumption in the world for uses other than
coinage was not less than $35,000,000. — Upon in-
formation contained in official reports, and ad-
ditional facts collected from various sources, Dr.
Soetbeer, of Germany, made a detailed estimate
716
SILVER.
of the consumption of silver in various countries,
and placed the net amount in the civilized world
at 471,000 kilograms ($19,500,000), distributing
that amount as follows:
United States----------------------------------- $ 4,239,000
Great Britain ----------------------------------- 2,992,000
France ----------------------------------------- 3,117,000
Germany --------------------------------------- 3,117,000
Switzerland------------------------------------- 997,000
Austria-Hungary-------------------------------- 1,330,000
Italy-------------------------------------------- 790,000
Russia------------------------------------------ 1,330,000
Total of above countries-------------------- $17,912,000
Other civilized countries ------------------------ 1,663,000
In all---------------- 'as sº ºr s = ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * $19,575,000
As by his estimation the United States and seven
countries in Europe consumed $17,900,000 of the
whole $19,500,000, leaving but $1,600,000 for the
remaining countries of Europe, North and South
America, while the large consumption of China
and India (the latter placed by the director of the
mint at $10,000,000) is wholly omitted, the direct-
or's estimate of $35,000,000 as the total consump-
tion of the world is probably below the real
amount. — Coimage. Silver coins are reported to
have been struck and used in Greece and Rome as
early as the third century preceding the Christian
era. The amount of silver coined, however, in
that period, and subsequently until the discovery
of America, is insignificant, compared with the
amounts issued from the coinage mints in the
nineteenth century. The records of the English
coinage show an annual average coinage of silver
of less than $35,000 in the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries, while the value of the silver coinage
Of Great Britain from 1816 to 1876 exceeded
$120,000,000, being over $2,000,000 annually. —
In England, however, as well as in Portugal,
where the value of the silver coinage from 1852
to 1880 was $48,174,692, the coin circulation con-
sisted of gold rather than silver; but in France,
where silver largely circulates, its coinage in sixty
years, 1726–85, is stated to have been 1,500,000,000
livres, while from 1795 to 1880, inclusive, silver to
the value of 5,511,952,864 francs was coined, equal
to $1,100,000,000, being over $12,000,000 annu-
ally. — The silver coinage in Mexico in 1809 was
$26,172,000, in 1812 $4,409,000, then varying with
the disturbed condition of the country, but of late
years it has averaged from twenty-two to twenty-
eight million dollars. — During the eight years
from 1875 to 1883 the silver coinage of a number
of the principal countries—the largest portion of
which, for the last five years, was executed by the
United States, Mexico and India—was as follows:
No. Of
YEARS. Countries. Amount.
1875------------------------------- 18 $119,105,467
1876 ------------------------------ 15 126,577,164
1877------------------------------- 16 114,359,332
1878------------------------------- 15 161,191,913
1879------------------------------- 10 104,888,313
1880------------------------------- 11 82,397,154
1881------------------------------- 14 108,473,624
1888------------------------------- 12 107,997,952
— In 1882 Mexico manufactured into coin nearly
all the silver obtained from its mines, while the
United States used for that purpose but seven-
twelfths and Germany three-fourths of its silver
product. The India mints coined the largest
amount. The coinage of silver for the year for
the principal countries was : -
United States----------------------------------- $27,972,035
Mexico.----------------------------------------- 25,146,260
Great Britain----------------------------------- 1,021,381
India------------------------------------------- 29,386,322
Germany--------------------------------------- 6,407,157
Austria-Hungary ------------------------------- 3,122,819
France ----------------------------------------- 223,853
Netherlands------------------------------------ 608,312
Norway ---------------------------------------- 123,280
Sweden ---------------------------------------- 19,703
Spain ------------------------------------------ 10,671,842
Japan ------------------------------------------ 3,294,988
Total--------------------------------------- $107,997,952
— The following silver coins of the United States
can now be legally issued, except the trade dollar,
the coinage of which was, in 1878, suspended by
order of the secretary of the treasury as author-
ized by law :

Present |Coinage to June
DENOMINATIONS. Authorized. Weight. 30, 1883
grains.
Trade dollar ------ Feb. 12, 1873 || 420 1 || $35,959,360.00
April 2, 1792
Dollar ------------ { Feb. 28, 1878 412.5 147,255,899.00
• grams. .
Half dollar------- April 2, 1792 | 12.5 | 122,761,270.00
Quarter dollar ----| April 2, 1792 6.25 38,492,086.25
Dime------------- April 2, 1792 | 1.25 17,628,012.20
— The principal silver coins of chief European
countries, now in circulation or coined by the
mints in Europe, their weight and fineness, with
the quantity of fine silver they contain, are shown
in the following table :

COUNTRIES. Coins. |weight|†.
grS. grainS.
Austria -------------- florin 190.51 900 171.46
Belgium ------------- 5 francs 385.8 900 347.22
Belgium ------------- 1 franc 77.16 || 835 64.43
Denmark ------------ Cl’OWI). 115.74 800 92.59
England ------------- shilling 87.27 | 925 80.74
France--------------- 5 francs 385.8 900 347.22
France--------------- 1 franc 77 16 || 835 64.43
Germany ------------ mark 85.73 900 76.16
Greece--------------- 5 drachmas 385.8 || 900 347. 22
Greece--------------- 1 drachma | 77.16 || 835 64.43
Italy ----------------- 5 lire 385.8 || 900 347, 22
Italy ----------------- 1 lira 77. 16 || 835 64.43
Netherlands --------- guilder 154.32 945 145.73
Norway-------------- CrOWI). 115.74 || 800 92.59
Portugal ------------- 5 festoons | 192.9 916# 176.82
Russia --------------- rouble 319.93 || 868 277, 70
Spain ---------------- 5 pesetas 385.8 900 347.22
Spain ---------------- 1 peseta 77.16 || 835 64,43
Sweden -------------- CPOWI). 115.74 800 92 59
Switzerland.---------- 5 francs 385.8 || 900 347.22
Switzerland.---------- 1 franc 77.16 || 835 64.43
Turkey --------- .----| 20 piasters | 371.21 | 830 308.10

— Abrasion of Coins. In all estimates of the
amount of silver in the world at any period, an
allowance must be made for the loss by abrasion,
which will vary with the composition of the coins
and the frequency of their circulation. The loss
by friction is less when coins are alloyed with
SILVER.
717
copper. Silver coins lose by abrasion, according
to Mr. W. Jacob, more rapidly than gold coins.
He placed the wear of English standard silver at
about göö part annually. Tests were made at the
London mint in 1826 to ascertain the loss on silver
coins of different denominations respectively in
circulation for three brief periods, taking 300 coins
of each denomination for each period, with the
following results:
- AVERAGE Pér Cent. of Loss in Circulation.
CIRCULATION
Half Crowns Shillings. Sixpences.
Two years------------ .07 .24 36
Six years ------------- .76 1.60 2.38
Ten years------------- .99 2.30 3.53
Mean------------- .086 .205 .309
— The experiments made by the officers of the
IEnglish mint in 1787 to ascertain the deficiency
in weight of the silver coins in actual circulation
at that time, showed a loss upon the crown pieces
of 3.3 per cent.; half crowns, 9.9 per cent. ; shil-
lings, 24.6 per cent. — In 1872–3 a quantity of
light gold coins were sent to the mint for recoin-
age; among them 6,000,000 gold dollars were
found to be deficient in weight .478 per cent., being
little less than 4 per cent. As the issue of these
coins was authorized in 1849, and not quite
20,000,000 were issued, and after 1863, during the
suspension of specie payments, they were practi-
cally out of circulation, twelve years may be con-
sidered as the average period of their circulation,
which would give a loss by abrasion of about 1
per cent. in twenty-five years. The loss on 5,000,-
000 quarter eagles was .00506, being a little over
# per cent. These doubtless were coined since
the reduction of the value of gold coins in 1834,
and had been in circulation under forty, and prob-
ably not over thirty, years; the loss by abrasion
was at the rate of a little over 11% per cent. in
a century. The loss on 10,000,000 half eagles
was .005214. These may have been in circulation
for the same length of time as the quarter eagles,
in which case the loss by abrasion would be at the
rate of about from 14 to 13 per cent. in a century.
— Silver Circulation. It is impossible to tell with
certainty the amount of silver in circulation at
any given period in any particular country, or the
total amount used by commercial nations. Mint
reports of most countries furnish meagre informa-
tion as to the character of the bullion used in coin-
age, and seldom state the country from which it was
obtained, or whether it consisted of bars or coins
remelted. Where, however, the recent legislation
of a country has changed the denomination or legal-
tender character of its coins, an approximate esti-
mate of the coin circulation can be made by de-
ducting from the total coinage subsequent to the
Change that portion exported and estimated to
have been recoined, and used in the arts. Such
an estimate is more reliable where the silver coins
are valued relatively to gold higher than the value
of the bullion they contain, in which case few will
be exported, except to those countries where they
pass at the legal home valuation. In this case,
and in countries where the customs returns give
the amount and character of the coin exports, the
silver circulation can be stated with sufficient ex-
actness and reasonable certainty. — As to the silver
circulation of the United States at the present time
(1883), it can be stated approximately without
much hesitation, because the country had no sil-
ver in general circulation in 1873, and its present
stock has been accumulated since that time, with
the exception, possibly, of five millions. In 1883
the silver coin in the country on the first of Octo-
ber was estimated by the director of the mint to
have been 154,000,000 silver dollars, and $81,-
000,000 in fractional silver. — Relative Value of Sil-
wer to Gold. As the principal ultimate demand for
silver has been to coin or use it as money, the legis-
lation at different periods of the world and in differ-
ent countries, establishing for each country the rel-
ative debt-paying'power of given weights of gold
and silver, has, probably, more than any other
cause, affected the market value of the two metals.
Tables have been published giving their relative
values at various periods; but an inspection of
their dates, compared with the legislation of the
country, shows that either the relative value of the
gold and silver coins, or, in some cases, their value
less mint charges, is given as the market value of
the metals. The production of silver and gold,
and their relative values for stated periods subse-
quent to the discovery of America and prior to
1881, were examined for each country by the emi-
ment German statistician, Dr. Adolph Soetbeer,
and his conclusions have been given to the public.
During that period the production of gold and
silver, and values relatively to each other, as stated
by him, were as follows:


PERIODS. Relative Production. Relative Value.
Silver. Gold. Silver. Gold."
1493–1600------- 66.2 to 33.8 - 1 to 104–12
1601–1700------- 72.8 to 27.2 1 to 12–15
1701—1800------- 65.9 to 34.1 1 to 14.97
1801–1850------- 64.1 to 35.9 1 to 15.70.
1851—1875------- 29.2 to 70.8 1 to 15.53.
This comparison, as remarked by Seyd, shows
that the relative value of the two metals has been
largely affected, though doubtless not wholly con-
trolled, by other causes than the relative amount
produced. In the legislative changes made by
different nations in the relative value as estab-
lished in the coinage, it will be found that the
higher valuation of the one or the other metal, and
the course of exchange and balances of trade be-
tween nations, have had much to do with the dis-
turbance of their values, and a great, if not a Con-
trolling, influence in determining their relative
price. — Alexander Hamilton, in his report as Sec-
retary of the treasury to congress on the estab-
lishment of a mint, in 1791, clearly stated the effect
of such legislation: “If two countries are sup-
posed, in one of which the proportion of gold to
718
SINKING FUND.
silver is as one to sixteen, in the other as one to
fifteen, gold being worth more, silver less, in one
than in the other, it is manifest, that, in their re-
ciprocal payments, each will select that species
which it values least to pay to the other, where it
is valued most. Besides this, the dealers in money
will, from the same cause, often find a profitable
traffic in an exchange of the metals between the
two countries. And hence it would come to pass,
if other things were equals that the greatest part
of the gold would be collected in one, and the
greatest part of the silver in the other. The course
of trade might, in some degree, counteract the
tendency of the difference in the legal proportions
by the market value; but this is so far and so often
influenced by the legal rates, that it does not pre-
vent their producing the effect which is inferred.
Facts, too, verify the inference. In Spain and
England, where gold is rated higher than in other
parts of Europe, there is a scarcity of silver; while
it is found to abound in France and Holland,
where it is rated higher in proportion to gold than
in the neighboring nations.”—To understand all
the causes which have affected the relative price
of gold and silver, it would be instructive to trace
the history of the successive changes of each nation,
and their contemporaneous valuations. This is
not easy to do, because the legal rating of the
coins seldom corresponds with the relative amount
of bullion necessary to be brought to the mints to
obtain them, by reason of deductions for seignior-
age to the sovereigns, and fees for the mint officers
and workmen. Some of the more important
changes have been as follows: For twelve hun-
dred years prior to the time of Xenophon (400 B.C.)
the ratio of gold to silver is stated to have been
13.33 to 1. The Greeks and Romans established
in their coinage a value of 12 to 1; although it is
said that at the time of the return of Julius Caesar
to Rome the value of gold had fallen to the ratio
of 7.5 to 1. For the first centuries of the Christian
era the relative value of gold in the Roman em-
pire appears to have been as 12.5 to 1. Different
countries have from time to time established dif-
ferent ratios, none of which permanently stood,
and the rate of valuation was about or a little
above or below 12 to 1 until the close of the fif-
teenth century. But early in the seventeenth
century the valuation of gold was raised, first by
England to about 13.7, and subsequently by Hol-
land to 13.62, and again raised about the middle
of the century by Holland to 14.93, and later, in
1665, by edict of Charles II., to 14.5 in England;
and the coinage of both gold and silver, in the
succeeding year, was made free to all at current
rates, at which time the valuation in Italy and
Spain is stated to have been 15 to 1. — The value
of gold and silver in European countries in 1640 |
is reported by reliable authorities to have been :
France, 13% to 1; Flanders, 12% to 1; Germany,
12 to 1; Netherlands, 12% to 1; Milan, 12 to 1;
England, 13% to 1; Spain, 13% to 1; France (1726),
14% to 1. – In the eighteenth century Great
Britain, in 1717, made the value 15.21 to 1.
France, nine years later, established the ratio of
14.42 to 1, and Spain, in 1730, 16 to 1. In 1785
France adopted the ratio of 15% to 1, Portugal
had increased the valuation of gold compared
with silver to 15.8 to 1, and Spain, first to 16 and
then to 16.5 to 1. In 1798 England suspended
silver coinage, without, however, changing the
ratio. The average valuation during the eight-
eenth century was a little less than 15 to 1, while
the United States adopted as the basis of its value
15 to 1. —In the nineteenth century the most
notable change was made by Great Britain, which
demonetized silver, increasing its valuation and
the amount to be offered in legal tender, and ex-
cluding the public from the right to deposit it at
the mint for coinage. In 1834 the amount of pure
gold in the gold coins of the United States was
reduced, bringing the relative value as nearly 16
to 1. In 1835 gold was demonetized in British
India, and silver made the only legal tender. In
1847 Holland demonetized gold, and adopted an
exclusive silver standard. — The increased pro-
duction of gold, after its discovery in California
and Australia, affected prices in Europe, and
largely increased the imports from India, neces-
sitating a greater export of money to that coun-
try to settle balances of trade. As silver only
was legal tender coin, gold having been demone-
tized, the demand for silver for transportation
raised its price in the London market above the
French mint value, as compared with gold, of 1
to 15%; and for some years, until a greater supply
from the mines was able to satisfy the demand,
silver was generally higher in London than its
coining value at the European mints open for
public coinage. The countries giving the lowest
legal valuation to silver were denuded of their
silver coins. The scarcity of the latter induced
the United States, in 1853, following the example
of Great Britain, in 1816, to commence the coin-
age of silver on government account, and to issue
fractional silver coins of reduced weight and lim-
ited legal tender. All United States silver coins
of less denomination than one dollar, issued since
that date, are of a weight that makes the value of
the silver contained, compared with gold, as 1 to
14.88. — In 1870 Germany, and in 1873 the United
States, passed laws demonetizing silver and .dis-
continuing the privilege to the public of coining
it at their mints. This action was followed later
by the states of the Latin union agreeing to sus-
pend the coinage of silver, which, following the
large increase in the production of silver from the
mines of the United States, largely depressed its
value, which, compared with gold, has averaged
in the London market, for the eight years Subse-
quent to 1875, about 1 to 18.
HORATIO C. BURCELARD.
SILVER BILL. (See HAYES, R. B.)
SINKING FUND. This fund may be defined
as a financial arrangement intended to redeem or
extinguish the public debt upon certain determined
SINKING FUND.
719
conditions, by means of a sum to be annually set
aside from the produce of taxes, and to be used
in sinking or paying a part of the debt through
the purchase of a portion of the public indebted-
ness. Historically, this is not a strictly accurate
definition, but it is generally correct when applied
to the financial methods of the present day. The
sinking fund has ever been regarded as an instru-
ment for reducing the public indebtedness, but
through false systems it has sometimes proved fal-
lacious, and has often even increased the debt. The
simplest method of creating such a fund would be
by economizing in the expenditures of government,
and setting apart the sum saved for the purchase
and the cancellation of the state's securities or cer-
tificates of indebtedness. But the more common
method is to create a special fund, to be controlled
and managed by a special board or commission, and
to be supplied out of the receipts of taxes.— Before
the beginning of the eighteenth century the general
practice in England was to provide a special tax
for each new loan, so that the particular loan was
said to be “funded,” or provided for by a tax.
In 1716, however, on the suggestion of the earl of
Stanhope, Sir Robert Walpole carried a measure
which rendered the taxes formerly distributed
among the South Sea aggregate and general funds
perpetual, and consolidated whatever surplus
might be collected by these taxes into a sinking
fund, that was to be applied to the discharge of
the national debt, and to no other purpose. This
fund was still further augmented by what had
been saved through successive reductions in the
interest of the debt, and between the period of
its formation and 1733 discharged £11,648,000 of
the debt. Soon after, however, what should
properly have gone into the sinking fund was ap-
plied to other purposes, and this practice became
general. So that, according to the figures of Dr.
Price, the amount of debt canceled by this fund
between 1733 and 1775 was only £8,500,000. “On
the whole,” says Hamilton, in his “Inquiry con-
cerning the National Debt of Great Britain,”
“this fund did little in time of peace, and nothing
in time of war, to the discharge of the national
debt. The purpose of its inviolable application
was abandoned, and the hopes, entertained of its
powerful efficacy entirely abandoned.” This fund
was, in 1786, superseded by Mr. Pitt's new fund.—
The rapid increase in the amount of the debt dur-
ing the eighteenth century had directed attention
to the burden, and not a few predicted national
bankruptcy as a result. In 1713 the total debt,
funded and unfunded, was nearly £35,000,000.
The Spanish, the seven years' and the American
wars ran the debt up to a total of £245,300,000.
On the proposal of Dr. Price, a parliamentary in-
quiry into the national finances was instituted,
and, as a result, a sinking fund was established,
but on a different system from that embodied in
the fund of 1716. Under this new system the sum
of £1,000,000 was to be annually appropriated by
parliament to the fund, and this amount was to
be expended, either in the redemption of stock, if
at par, or, if under par, in the purchase of it in
the open market at the current rate.
The interest
arising from all stock so redeemed was to be added
to the principal, and laid out in the same manner,
until, by their joint accumulation at compound in-
terest, they should amount to the annual sum of
£4,000,000, when this fund should thenceforth
continue to be laid out at simple interest only,
leaving the amount of interest annually redeemed
at the disposal of parliament. (26 Geo. III., cap.
31. See Speech of Mr. Huskisson, March, 1813.)
The most extravagant expectations were formed
of this law, and the writings of Dr. Price, which
had wide circulation, tended to foster such beliefs.
“The smallest fund of this kind,” he wrote, “is,
indeed, omnipotent, if it is allowed time to oper-
ate.” In order to secure the inviolability of this
fund, its management was intrusted to a commis-
sion composed of the speaker of the house of
commons, the chancellor of the exchequer, the
master of the rolls, the accountant general of the
court of chancery, and the governor and the dep-
uty governor of the bank of England. In 1792
a change was made in the manner of accumulat-
ing this fund, and at the same time a permanent
provision was made for future debts by the fram-
ing of a permanent system of a sinking fund.
“It was enacted,” says Ricardo, “that, besides a
provision for the interest of any loan which should
thenceforward be contracted, taxes should also be
imposed for a 1 per cent. Sinking fund on the cap-
ital stock created by it, which should be exclusive-
ly employed in the liquidation of such particular
loan; and that no relief should be afforded to the
public from the taxes which constituted the 1 per
cent. sinking fund, until a sum of capital stock,
equal in amount to that created by the loan, had
been purchased by it.” The wisdom of this pro-
vision can not be questioned, as it tended to main-
tain confidence in the credit of the government,
which was then at a low point. It made the gov-
ernment not only a seller of securities (while issu-
ing loans), but also a buyer (while purchasing
with the sinking fund). And while the expecta-
tion was, that every loan would, under the opera-
tions of a 1 per cent. sinking fund, be redeemed
in about forty-five years, yet the lower the price
of the securities fell, the more efficient would the
fund become; so that in proportion to the depres-
sion existing at the time, would this sinking fund
operate as a check to prevent a further fall, and
as a lever to produce, at no distant period, a prob-
able rise in the market. Mr. Huskisson said of
Mr. Pitt’s plan, that it was “framed with the spe-
cific view of holding out to the public a guaran-
tee, that any future debts which the states might
have occasion to contract, should from the moment
of their being incurred, be placed in a course of
liquidation, uniform and unalterable. This plan
contained within itself a principle of permanency,
which being applied to every loan at the time
of making the contract, could not, from that
moment, be varied or departed from, without a
breach of such contract. * * : That every future
720
SINKING FUND,
loan should, from the moment of its creation, car-
ry with it the seeds of its destruction; and that the
course of its reimbursement should, from that
moment, be placed beyond the discretion and the
control of parliament.” From 1786 to 1793 the
fund effected some reduction in the debt; but in
the following years, when through the war the
expenditures of government greatly exceeded the
income, it was attempted to maintain the annual
reductions, it became a wretched piece of jugglery,
although the form and machinery were continued.
— It remained for Dr. Hamilton to expose the fal-
lacies of such a sinking fund, and he showed that
so far from reducing the debt it had really in-
creased it. “The extent of the sinking fund is
artificial, and may be brought, by a mere change
in the arrangement of the public accounts, to bear
any proportion to the amount of debt, without
the slightest advantage, or any tendency to pro-
mote its discharge. In time of war we raise a
certain sum by taxes for the expense of the year,
and borrow what further is wanted. If a sinking
fund be maintained, the sums appropriated are
deducted from what would have otherwise been
expended on the war, and a greater loan is re-
quired. We may throw into the sinking fund any
share of the revenue we please. We have only to
add as much to the loan, and we shall raise a
larger sum in the form of loan with the same fa-
cility, by the effect of the sums thrown into the
money market for the stock purchased by the
commissioners. In time of war the sinking fund
is nominal; in time of peace a large sinking fund
will discharge the debt more quickly; but this
amounts to no more than that a continuance of
the taxes which we paid in war, after peace is re-
stored, will be attended with a speedier reduction
of debt than what would take place if a large part
of these taxes were repealed.” Hence he was led
to assert that the excess of revenue over expend-
iture was the only fund by which any part of the
public debt could be discharged. “The increase
of revenue, or the diminution of expense, are
the only means by which this fund (sinking) can
be enlarged, and its operations rendered more ef.
fectual; and all schemes for discharging the na-
tional debt, by sinking funds operating at com-
pound interest, or in any other manner, unless in
So far as they are founded upon this principle, are
completely illusory.” — Dr. Hamilton's work was
first published in 1813, the very year in which
important changes were made in the fund under
the administration of the finances by Mr. Vansit.
tart. But the farce of borrowing to supply the
requirement of the fund continued. In 1819 Dr.
Hamilton's views were so far recognized as to in.
duce the house of commons to resolve, that to pro-
vide for the exigencies of the public service, to
make such progress in reductions of the national
debt as may adequately support public credit, and
to afford to the country a prospect of future relief
from a part of its present burdens, it is absolutely
necessary that there should be a clear surplus of
the income of the country over the expenditure,
of not less than £5,000,000. In 1822 the commit-
tee of public accounts recommended that the an
nual sinking fund loans be discontinued, and that
the whole of the redeemed capital stock of funded
debt remaining in the name of the commissioners.
be canceled. In the following year their recom-
mendation was carried into effect, but the last
remnant of the fund was not abolished before
1828. — This sinking fund had proved an unfor-
tunate and costly experiment; but how costly it
had been was not proved until 1869, when it was
made the subject of parliamentary investigation.
“During the whole period, from Jan, 5, 1793,
when the French war broke out, up to 1829, there
was only one year (1817) in which money was not
raised by loan, in order to aid the sinking fund,
besides what was required for war expenditure.
After excluding the period from Aug. 5, 1786, to
Jan. 5, 1793, during which £8,147,631 was applied
to redeem £10,241,100 of 3 per cent. Stock, bearing
an interest of £307,263 per annum, there remains
£321,902,824, which was applied between 1793
and 1829 to redeem £472,942,703 capital stock,
carrying £14,488,388 annual interest, the mean
rate on the sum paid being almost exactly 4% per
cent. per annum. During the same period the
total sum of £702,163,075 was raised by loans, for
which £1,052,536,700 capital stock of funded debt.
was created, carrying £35,301,392 annual interest,
or a mean rate of about 5 per cent. per annum.
The actual result of all these sinking fund opera-
tions, therefore, was, that the total amount of
£330,050,455 was raised at 5 per cent. to pay off a
debt carrying 43 per cent. The difference in these
two rates amounted, upon the total capital sum of
£330,050,455, to £1,627,765 per annum, which
may be set down as the increased annual charge
bf our funded debt, and a real loss to the public
from this deceptive sinking fund system; without
taking into account the expenses of the manage-
ment of the sinking fund,and the increased amount
of capital of debt consequent upon the practice of
borrowing on less advantageous terms for larger
sums than were required to meet the actual public.
expenditure.” — I have described somewhat at
length the English sinking fund, because the prin-
ciples which governed its formation were early
adopted in this country, under the leadership of
Alexander Hamilton. In December, 1782, he in-
troduced into the congress of the confederation.
the following resolution : “Whereas, It is essen.
tial to justice and to the preservation of public
credit, that whenever a nation is obliged, by the
exigencies of public affairs, to contract a debt,
proper funds should be established, not only for
paying the annual value or interest of the same,
but for discharging the principal within a reason-
able period, by which a nation may avoid the evils.
of an excessive accumulation of debt; therefore,
Resolved, That whenever the net product of any
funds, recommended by congress and granted by
the states, for funding the debt already Contracted,
or for procuring further loans for the support of
the war, shall exceed the sum requisite for paying
SINKING FUND.
721
the interest of the whole amount of the national
debt, which these states may owe at the termina-
tion of the present war, the surplus of such grants
shall form a sinking fund, and be inviolably ap-
propriated to the payment of the principal of the
said debt, and shall on no account be diverted to
any other purpose.” Thus, four years before Mr.
. Pitt accepted the plan of Dr. Price, and ten years
before he laid down the sound rules of finance
embodied in the English act of 1792, the two im-
portant principles, that with the creation of a debt
measures should be taken to insure its extinguish-
ment, and that debt reduction is efficient only
when made with surplus revenue, were clearly
enunciated by Mr. Hamilton in the congress of the
confederation. Circumstances, however, which
chiefly arose from the weakness of the confedera-
tion, prevented any attempt to put into practice
this resolution, and in the disordered condition of
the finances little could be done before the return
of peace. Even then the jealousy among the states
prevented action, and it was not until the consti-
tution was adopted and the national government
formed, that a settlement of the debt question
could be looked for. In his report on public credit,
Hamilton proposed to apply the revenues arising
from the postal service to the purposes of a sink-
ing fund, and he again lays down as a vital prin-
ciple the necessity of such a fund. “Persuaded,
as the secretary is, that the proper funding of the
present debt will render it a national blessing; yet
he is so far from acceding to the position, in the
latitude in which it is sometimes laid down, that
‘public debts are public benefits,” a position invit-
ing to prodigality, and liable to dangerous abuse,
that he ardently wishes to see it incorporated, as
a fundamental maxim, in the system of public
Credit in the United States, that the creation of debt
should always be accompanied with the means of
extinguishment. This he regards as the true secret
for rendering public credit immortal. And he
presumes that it is difficult to conceive a situation
in which there may not be an adherence to the
maxim.”
administer this fund, the vice-president of the
United States, the speaker of the house of repre-
sentatives, the chief justice, Secretary of the treas-
ury and the attorney general. His propositions
respecting the postal revenues were not accepted;
but congress appropriated to the sinking fund the
surplus revenues of the current year, and author-
ized the president to borrow $2,000,000 with which
to purchase stock at its then low value. There was
a considerable surplus revenue in 1790, which was
applied to debt reduction, and in 1791 the sinking
fund had already reached the sum of $1,000,000.
The act of Aug. 12, 1790, which constituted this
fund, provided, 1, that the surplus of the duties
on imports and tonnage to the end of the year
1790 should be applied to the purchase of the debt
of the United States, at its market price, if not
exceeding par or true value thereof—said pur-
chases to be made openly, and with due regard to
the equal benefit of the several states; and 2, that,
165 VOL. III. — 46
He recommended, as commissioners to
in addition to this fund, the president should be
authorized to borrow any sum or sums, not ex-
ceeding $2,000,000, at an interest not exceeding
5 per cent., to be applied to purchases of public
debt; provided that, out of the interest of the debt
to be purchased, there should be appropriated,
annually, a sum not exceeding 8 per cent. of the
sums borrowed, toward paying the interest and
reimbursing the principal of these sums. It will
be seen that the compound interest scheme, which
was so eagerly taken up in England, was not em-
bodied in the plan of 1790, which was little more
than a direct appropriation of surplus revenue to
debt reduction. In 1792, however, an important
change was introduced, and a permanent sinking
fund was established, to be composed, 1, of the in-
terest of the public debt, purchased, redeemed, or
paid into the treasury, in satisfaction of any debt
or demand; and 2, of the surplus, if any, which
should remain of moneys appropriated for paying
the interest of the public debt, after paying that
interest. This fund was to be applied, first, to
purchases of the debt, till the annual amount of
the fund shall be equal to 2 per centum of the
whole amount of the outstanding funded stock,
bearing a present interest of 6 per centum; second,
to the redemption of that stock; and lastly, to pur-
chases of any unredeemed residue of the public
debt. To January, 1795, the purchases of stock
had amounted to $2,268,022. — The operations of
this and of subsequent sinking funds are fully de-
scribed in Elliot’s “The Funding System of the
United States” (28th Congress, 1st Session, Exec.
Doc.) The principles so clearly laid down by
Alexander Hamilton have been generally applied
in this country both with respect to national and
to local indebtedness, but the manner of constitut-
ing the sinking fund has varied greatly according
to circumstances. In every instance, however,
the main object was to provide for the extinction
of the debt, and, by setting aside a stated sum
which was to be inviolably applied to this purpose,
to maintain confidence in the credit of the state or
borrowing power. Whatever errors, either in the
composition of the fund or in its administration,
have been made, it has come to be recognized that
debt can be canceled only when a state's income
exceeds its expenditure. The surplus may with
profit be applied to debt reduction. Some of the
state constitutions specify the number of years in
which a debt is to be redeemed. For example,
that of Illinois says: “Any county, city, School
district, or other municipal corporation, incurring
any indebtedness as aforesaid, shall, before or at
the time of doing so, provide for the collection of
a direct annual tax sufficient to pay the interest. On
such debt, as it falls due, and also to pay and dis-
charge the principal thereof within twenty years
from the time of contracting the same.” (Consti-
tution, 1870, Art. IX., § 12.) This would prac-
tically involve the maintenance of a sinking fund.
The constitutions of other states are more particu-
lar. Thus, that of Pennsylvania (1873) recites,
that, “to provide for the payment of the present
722
SLAVERY.
state debt, and any additional debt contracted as
aforesaid, the general assembly shall continue and
maintain the sinking fund, sufficient to pay the
accruing interest on such debt, and annually
to reduce the principal thereof by a sum not
less than $250,000; the said sinking fund shall
consist of the proceeds of the sales of the public
works, or any part thereof, and of the income or
proceeds of the sales of any stocks owned by the
commonwealth, together with other funds and re-
sources that may be designated by law, and shall
be increased from time to time by assigning to it
any part of the taxes or other revenues of the state
not required for the ordinary and current expenses
of government; and, unless in case of war, in-
vasion or insurrection, no part of the said sink-
ing fund shall be used or applied otherwise than
in the extinguishment of the public debt. The
moneys of the state, over and above the necessary
reserve, shall be used in the payment of the debt
of the state, either directly or through the sinking
fund, and the moneys of the sinking fund shall
never be invested in or loaned upon the security
of anything, except the bonds of the United States
or of this state.” (Art. IX., §§ 11, 12.) And again.
“Every city shall create a sinking fund, which
shall be inviolably pledged for the payment of its
funded debt.” (Art. XV., § 3.) — In addition to
the writings mentioned in the course of the arti-
cle, the following may be consulted : M’Culloch,
Theatise on the Principles and Practical Influence of
Taa’ation, and the Funding System; Reports of the
Secretary of the Treasury; American State Papers,
Finance ; State Constitutions ; and Congressional
JDebates. WORTHINGTON C, FORD.
SINTOOISM. (See Sunro)
SLAVERY is the right of property of one
man in another man, in his family, in his poster-
ity, and in the products of his labor. — There is
no injustice more revolting than slavery, and yet
there is no fact so widespread in history. Hence
slavery is as old as war, in which it had its origin.
Both slavery and war are inexplicable in the eyes
of philosophy, if we do not admit, with Chris-
tianity, an immemorial perturbation among the
members of the human family. — In antiquity
the system of labor was everywhere slavery. It
was found in Rome, in Greece, in Egypt, in AS-
syria, in Gaul, among the Germans, and, it is said,
even among the Scythians; it was recruited by
war, by voluntary sale, by captivity for debt, and
then by inheritance. It was not everywhere cruel,
and in patriarchal life it was Scarcely distinguish-
able from domestic service; in some countries,
however, it approached the service of beasts of
burden; the brutal insensibility with which Aris-
totle and Varro spoke of slaves is revolting; and
the manner in which they were treated by the laws
is even more so. These men, who were of the same
race, who had the same intellect, and the same
color as their owners, were declared incapable of
holding property, of appealing to the law, of de-
fending themselves; in a word, of demeaning
themselves like men in any of the circumstances
of life. Only the law of the Hebrew people tem-
pered servitude by humanity. Doubtless, we
might quote certain words of Euripides or of
Terence, of Epictetus or of Seneca, colored with a
more tender pity and evincing some heart; we find
also both in Greek and Roman laws, on the mon-
uments, and in the inscriptions and epitaphs which
our contemporaries have so carefully studied; we
find, I say, in these the proof that the granting of
freedom to slaves, in individual cases, was fre-
quent, and that it was inspired, especially at the
moment of death, by religious motives. But the
brutal fact of slavery is incontestable. The evil
outweighed the good in an enormous measure;
servitude remained from century to century, from
country to country, during all antiquity, the uni-
versal fact, and the legitimateness of servitude
the universal doctrine. — To the rare and barren
protests of a few noble souls, Christianity finally
added the power of its mighty voice. The broth-
erhood of men, the dignity of labor, the absolute
duty of perfection : with these three principles,
clothed with the authority of God himself, the
human race entered a new phase, commenced the
great battle of good against evil, and, little by
little, forced back the scourges which, in the
past, had reigned with undivided supremacy.
Servitude was destined to be among the van-
Quished, but it was not without a long and griev.
ous combat, which, at the present time, is not
entirely terminated. — The learned labors of M.
Edouard Biot and M. Janoski warrant the affir-
mation that servitude had almost entirely disap-
peared in Christian Europe from the tenth to the
thirteenth century; but it is only too well known
that after the discovery of the new world, the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries witnessed the
re-establishment of this odious institution in all
the colonial possessions of the nations of Europe.
What do I say ? The most Christian kings of
France, Spain and England did not blush to place
their signature at the bottom of treaties intended to
assure to them the monopoly of the sale and trans-
portation of millions of human beings. An en-
tire continent, Africa, became like a mine to be
worked, charged with furnishing the other con-
tinents with the living merchandise, called in
diplomatic acts a ton of megroes, just as we say a
ton of charcoal. — To the nineteenth century be-
longs the honor of waging against Servitude a
war which is not yet ended, but which has been
distinguished, however, by remarkable victories.
The revolution is complete as far as ideas are con-
cerned. Morality spoke first, and all the sciences,
little by little, came to agree with it. Philosophy
gives to all slaves a soul equal to our own, which
Aristotle, perhaps, refused to them. Physiology
declares blacks and whites, despite important dif-
ferences, to be members of the same family. His-
tory no longer discovers between slave owners and
slaves the trace of any legitimate conquest. The
law does not recognize any validity of a pretended
SLAVERY.
723
contract which has no title, the object of which is
illicit, and one of the parties to which is not a
free agent, and the other party to which is with-
out good faith. Ethnology lifts to the dignity of
a beautiful law the radical difference which places
in the first rank the races which labor, like the
European, and in the last rank the races who
make others work for them, like the Turks. Polit-
ical economy affirms the superiority of free labor
to forced labor, and it condemns everything which
deprives man of the family. Politics and charity,
from different points of view, accept the same
conclusion: charity, more tender, detests slavery
because it oppresses the inferior race; politics,
more lofty, condemns it, above all, because it cor-
rupts the superior race. Thus the revolution above
referred to, complete in the order of ideas, is far
from being complete in the order of facts. – At
the beginning of the present century England
possessed nearly 800,000 slaves, scattered among
nineteen colonies, to wit : more than 300,000 in
Jamaica, 80,000 in the Barbadoes, 80,000 in Gui-
ana, more than 60,000 in Mauritius, and the rest
in the little colonies of Trinidad, Grenada, An-
tigua, St. Vincent, etc. France, in her colonies
of the Antilles, Bourbon, Guiana and Senegal, had
250,000 slaves. There were 27,000 in the little
colonies of Denmark, and about 600 in the island
of St. Bartholomew, belonging to Sweden. Hol-
land, which knew how to avoid servile labor in
Java, preserved more than 50,000 slaves at Suri-
nam and Curaçoa. But these figures are trifling,
compared to the number of the enslaved popula-
tion of the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, which
amounted to at least 600,000 slaves; of Brazil,
which is more than 2,000,000; and of the United
States, which, before the American civil war, had
4,000,000 slaves. – France was the first to give
the signal for the liberation of slaves, a liberation
which unfortunately was sudden, violent, and did
not last. In 1790–91 the constituent assembly,
after much hesitation, admitted free people of
color in the colonies to the rights of citizenship.
The whites resisted, and when the convention
tried to have the decree executed, the conflict
between the blacks and whites led to the massa-
cres which have been so falsely attributed to
the emancipation of the slaves, proclaimed only
at the end of 1793, and confirmed by the decree ||
of Feb. 4, 1794, by which the convention decreed
with enthusiasm the abolition of slavery in all
French Colonies. The result of the maritime
wars was, to the colonies, disorder or conquest.
At the same time, in the mother country, a reac-
tion, aided by glory, carried men beyond the
necessities of order. The year 1802, which wit-
nessed the concordat, the life consulate, the peace
of Amiens, the legion of honor, and the university,
witnessed also the restoration of slavery and even
the slave trade by the law of the 30th floreal, year
X. — Commenced with more wisdom, and con-
ducted with more perseverance, the movement of
emancipation in England naturally triumphed
more promptly than in France. In 1102 a coun.
cil held in the city of London, under the presi-
dency of St. Anselm, forbade the slave trade. In
1763 an odious treaty assured to England, on the
other hand, the monopoly of this traffic. In 1773
a generous Christian, William Wilberforce, first
wrote against this public scandal. In 1780 Thos.
Clarkson proposed its abolition to parliament, and
in 1787 Wilberforce renewed the proposition,
which, after having been seven times presented
and seven times rejected, finally triumphed in
1806, and became, at the congress of Vienna, a
Solemn engagement of all the European powers
(Declaration of Feb. 4, 1815), which was followed
by laws promulgated by each of these nations.
May 15, 1823, Mr. Buxton proposed the abolition
of slavery in all the English colonies. After long
hesitation, the act of abolition presented in 1833,
in the name of the government, by Lord Stanley,
was promulgated Aug. 28, 1833. This memorable
law, which devoted £500,000,000 to the ransom of
800,000 men, did not, however, accord them lib-
erty until after an apprenticeship, which was to
last from Aug. 1, 1834, to Aug. 1, 1840; but this
uncertain system could not be maintained. Lord
Brougham proposed its abolition in 1838, and the
colonial legislatures spontaneously decreed com-
plete emancipation in the years 1838 and 1839. —
At the same time, 1838, M. Passy proposed to the
French chambers a bill with the same end in view,
and in 1840 a commission was charged, under the
presidency of the duke de Broglie, to prepare the
way for the abolition of slavery in the French
colonies. At the same time, also, 1839, Pope
Gregory XVI. published a bull, condemning
slavery and the slave trade. The report of M. de
Broglie is celebrated; we may call it a judgment
by a court of last resort, which, for the most ele-
wated, decisive and practical reasons, condemned
slavery forever. However, the sentence was not ex-
ecuted on account of the hesitation of the govern-
ment and the resistance of the colonies. Slavery
was not abolished in the colonies of France until
after the revolution of February, by the decree of
March 4, 1848, which M. Schoelcher had the honor
of proposing. — The result of emancipation in the
French colonies was the liberation of the slaves
in the Danish colonies, proclaimed July 3, 1848.
Sweden had set the example of liberation as early
as 1846. — We here give a résumé of the economic
and moral results of emancipation in the colonies
of England and in those of France. Before eman-
cipation, the colonies of the West Indies produced
3,640,000 quintals of sugar. These figures had
sunk during the apprenticeship to 3,480,000 quin-
tals, and after the liberation to 2,600,000. In 1848
the production was 3,795,311 quintals; in 1852,
3,376,000; and in 1858, 3,499,171. The emanci-
pation of the slaves was followed by a diminution
in production and an increase in prices, but also
in wages; the result of commercial freedom was
an increase in production and a diminution in
prices, but also in wages. Twenty years after these
two great trials the old figures were reached, the
net cost was diminished, and if certain isolated
724
SLAVERY.
colonies suffer still while others prosper, there is
no one in England who could have foreseen that
two such radical experiments would not be fol-
lowed by more disastrous and more prolonged con-
sequences. – Let us dwell a little further on the
colonies of France. Despite a triple trial, the
emancipation of the slaves, competition in the
mother country and a radical revolution, the gen-
eral movement of affairs of the French colonies
was not lowered beyond one-half, while it was
lowered more than a quarter so far as all the busi-
ness transactions of France during the first period
of five years were concerned; after another five
years, the figures prior to emancipation were very
slightly surpassed at Guadaloupe, nearly half at
Guiana, more than a quarter at Martinique, and
more than a half at Réunion. —If we look only
at production, after 1854, the figures prior to 1848
were surpassed, even for sugar, excepting at
Guiana, which was transformed into a colony of
consumption. The increase is in slow progress at
Guadaloupe, important at Martinique, and extraor-
dinary at Réunion. Wages are very little higher,
the price of sale and renting of lands has increased,
credit is more easy, thanks to the banks; new re-
sources of credit and laws which permit the im-
portation of cereals, rice, and also of machinery,
arrive opportunely with the reduction of the cus-
toms duties; the price of sale is higher, the move-
ment of ships has increased one-third, at the same
time that the material and methods of manufacture
have been changed. To the honor of liberty and
that of the colonists, be it said, that, since eman-
cipation, they have courageously made up their
minds what to do; they have ceased to sigh, and
begun to act. At Réunion tools have been changed,
methods of processes improved, and the revenue
from Colonist settlements doubled; there is no hes-
itation in hiring a laborer for five years at double
the price received at London for the importation of
6,000 coolies; those who bought with colonist set-
tlements in 1848 have realized enormous fortunes,
progress has followed wealth, and the general ex-
position of agriculture in 1862 showed sugar from
Réunion which did not need to be refined. In
the Antilles people are no longer contented with
cursing the indigenous sugar refineries; they imi-
tate them; Central refineries have been established
where, in 1874, the produce from sugar cane rose
from 5 to 13 per cent., and there is hope of still
further improvement; machinery and manuring
were introduced, drainage has been tried, patents
are taken out, landed credit is demanded, agricult-
ural credit is used, free trade is called for; in
a word, those routine and ruinous traditions which
are the sad accompaniments of slavery are being
departed from; and an endeavor is being made to
realize these first four conditions of all economic
progress: the perfecting of processes, abundance
of hands, facility for credit, and the widening of
the market. — As far as the moral order is con-
Cerned, all the results of the English experiment
may be summed up in the words of Lord Stanley,
in 1842, which were substantially as follows:
There has been progress in industrious habits, im-
provement in the social and religious system, and
development in individuals of those qualities of
heart and mind which are more necessary to hap-
piness than the material goods of life. The negroes
are happy and contented, they devote themselves
to labor, they have bettered their way of living, in-
creased their well-being, and, while crime has dimin-
ished, moral habits have become better. The num-
ber of marriages has increased. Under the influ-
ence of the ministers of religion, education has be-
come more widespread. In short, the result of the
great experiment of emancipation tried upon the
whole of the population of the West Indies has sur-
passed the most ardent hopes.— In the French col-
onies, 40,000 marriages, 20,000 legitimate children,
30,000 acknowledged children, the population re-
suming a regular course and increase, the church-
es filled, the schools attended ; at Guadaloupe and
Martinique, 20,000 adults at the night schools; at
Réunion, 23 Societies of mutual aid among the
freedmen, Crimes against the person diminished
(at least until the arrival of immigrants), justice
and the clergy improved, peace maintained with
garrisons less strong than before 1848; such are the
gifts presented to French colonial society by the
emancipation of its slaves. – It would be too long
to show in detail, year by year, the economic and
moral results of emancipation, since they became
complicated by reason of the effect of political
events and attempts at commercial liberty in
France. Let it suffice to affirm that civilization.
has gained much, that wealth has lost little, that
its losses have been repaired and more than re-
paired, at least in all the colonies in which the
new régime has been accepted in good faith;
finally, that the call of a million men to liberty,
in distant lands, did not cause the tenth part of
the trouble occasioned in the more civilized na-
tions of Europe by the least important political
question. — European nations quickly understood
that the slave trade would never be completely
abolished unless slavery itself was suppressed.
Unfortunately, the United States of America did
not understand this as quickly. The illustrious.
founders of the Union, fearing a dissolution of it.
at the very moment of its formation, and hoping,
that to suppress the evil it would be sufficient to
dry up its source, limited themselves to inserting
in the constitution that the slave trade should be:
prohibited, beginning with the year 1808. As far
as slavery was concerned, they had the weakness
not even to mention its name, leaving to each State
the task of ridding itself of the institution of slav-
ery, which, at that period, was very little devel-
oped. In Washington's time, there were scarcely
700,000 slaves within the whole extent of the
United States. Washington freed his own slaves
by will, and we know from his correspondence
with Lafayette that he busied himself with plans
of emancipation. Many of the northern states suc-
cessively freed their slaves; but the progress of the
cultivation of cotton, the cession of Louisiana,
the purchase of Florida and the conquest of Texas.
SLAVERY.
725
nad not been foreseen. Sixty years after Wash-
ington's time, the American republic had ad-
vanced with giant steps, slavery had grown with
it, and the southern states contained 4,000,000 of
enslaved blacks. A fact SO enormous, so abnor-
mal, produced in the bosom of the Union a pro-
found perturbation. Not only did honor and
morality suffer therefrom, but a terrible division
took place between the north, which controlled
the commerce, the shipping and the tariff of the
Union, and the south, which, previous to the
American civil war, controlled politics, the con-
gress, and the laws of the Union. Without re-
lating the long and lamentable history of this con-
flict, without speaking of the fugitive slave law,
Of the territorial question, of the debates on the
right of Search, of the projects for an invasion of
Cuba, finally of all the electoral struggles for the
presidency, let us recall that the question of slav-
ery had become in 1856, and again in 1860, the sole
stumbling block of the general elections. In 1856
the south triumphed for the last time in the per-
son of Mr. Buchanan; in 1860 the north bore away
the victory in the person of Abraham Lincoln, and
the southern states immediately revolted, and de-
clared war. This formidable war had the char-
acter of a war of independence; the north fought
for the constitution, the south to obtain its autono-
my. But for what purpose did the south thus
wish to separate itself from a glorious nation? In
Order to perpetuate, maintain and extend slavery,
and to have no more uneasiness as to the fate of
that institution which its publicists dared to call
the best system of labor. The north was led by
circumstances to strike at the very root of the
war, by attacking slavery. In its session of 1862,
Congress successively adopted : 1st, emancipation
in the District of Columbia; 2d, the recognition
of the republics of Hayti and Liberia; 3d, the
measures proposed by the president for gradual
emancipation in the states and immediate emanci-
pation in the rebel states, beginning Jan. 1, 1863.
We know that the defeat of the south assured the
definitive abolition of slavery in the United States.
Slavery having disappeared in North America, its
foundations were necessarily shaken in South
America. The republics separated from Spain
, have abolished it. Holland delivered its Ameri-
can colonies from slavery by a law of Aug. 8, 1862,
and a law of December, 1871, paved the way for
its suppression in Brazil. — This rapid review is
Confined to Christian countries. In Mohammedan
and pagan countries, slavery exists almost every-
Where; here more patriarchal, there more barba-
rous; maintained in the bosom of Africa by per-
petual wars and a pitiless traffic. A Mohamme-
dan sovereign, the bey of Tunis, however, abol-
ished slavery in his states, even before France, in
1847; but the scourge of slavery will evidently
never disappear from pagan nations, except from
Contact with, and the example of, Christian na-
tions. We may hope that the nineteenth century
will see servitude disappear ; this would be its
principal glory. The condition precedent to the
disappearance of slavery is the persevering accord
of all opinions, of all creeds, of all nations, that it
should be abolished, and this accord is now an
accomplished fact. (See SLAVERY, in U. S. His-
tory.) AUGUSTIN COCHIN.
SLAVERY (IN U. S. HISTORY). It may be laid
down as a fundamental proposition, that negro
slavery in the colonies never existed or was orig-
inally established by law, but that it rested wholly
On custom. The dictum, so often quoted, that
slavery, being a breach of natural right, can be
valid only by positive law, is not true: it is rather
true that slavery, where it existed, being the crea-
ture of custom, required positive law to abolish
or control it. In Great Britain, in 1772, custom
had made slavery so odious that the Sommersett
case justly held that positive law was necessary
for the establishment of slavery there in any form;
but the exact contrary of this rule, of course, held
good in commonwealths where custom made
slavery not odious, but legal. In these cases the
laws which were passed in regard to slavery were
only declaratory of a custom already established,
and can not be said to have established slavery.
The whole slavery struggle is therefore the history
of a custom at first universal in the colonies, then
peacefully circumscribed by the rise of a moral
feeling opposed to it, but suddenly so fortified in
its remaining territory by the rise of an enormous
material interest as to make the final struggle one
of force. In outlining the history of negro slavery
in the United States, it seems advisable to make
the following subdivisions: 1, the introduction of
slavery, and its increase; 2, its internal policy; 3,
the slave trade, foreign and domestic; 4 the suf-
frage clause and the “slave power”; and 5, slavery
in the territories, including new states. The final
abolition of slavery in each state, in the territories,
and in the nation, is treated elsewhere. (See AB-
olition.)—I. INTRODUCTION OF SLAVERY, AND
ITS INCREASE. When English colonization in
North America began, Indian and negro slavery
was already firmly established in the neighboring
Spanish colonies; and from these, particularly
from the West Indies, negro slavery was natu-
rally and unconsciously introduced into the Eng-
lish colonies, the Barbadoes being the stepping-
stone for most of them. Nevertheless, the first
authentic case of introduction was from an en-
tirely different source. In August, 1619, a Dutch
man-of-war, temporarily in Virginia, landed four-
teen negro slaves in exchange for provisions. This
is the only colony in which a first case can be
found. Everywhere else we find slavery, when
first casually mentioned, an institution so long
established as to have lost its novelty. In each of
them there are three points to be noted: the first
mention of slavery, its first regulation by law,
and the establishment, by custom or positive law,
of the civil law rule, partus Sequºtur ventrem, in-
stead of the common law rule, partus Sequºur par
trem. The latter rule, making children take the
condition of the father, was the natural rule for
726
SLAVERY.
English colonists, would have made negro slavery
far more tolerable, and would have established a .
constant agent for its ultimate extinction, since
any connection between a slave father and a free
mother would have been comparatively rare. The
former rule, that the children should take the con-
dition of the mother, which was everywhere ad-
opted by custom from the beginning, not only
relieved the system from check, but even gave it
an added horror, of which the variations in color
among the inferior race are mute but indelible cer-
tificates. In summarizing the introduction of
slavery into the original thirteen states, we will
begin at Mason and Dixon's line, going first South-
ward, and then northward: its introduction into
the new states and territories comes under the
fifth subdivision. —In Virginia the acts passed
were at first for the mere regulation of servants,
the legal distinction being between servants for a
term of years (white immigrants under indent-
ures), and servants for life (slaves). Dec. 14, 1662,
the civil law rule, partus sequitur ventrem, was
adopted by statute. Oct. 3, 1670, servants not
Christians, imported by shipping, were declared
slaves for their lives. Slavery was thus fully le-
galized in the colony. —In Maryland slaves are
first mentioned (“slaves only excepted") in a pro-
posed law of 1638. In 1663 the civil law rule was
fully adopted by a provision that “negroes or
other slaves,” then in the province or thereafter
imported, should serve durante vita, “ and their
children also.”— In Delaware the Swedes at first
prohibited slavery, but it was introduced by the
Dutch. It was in existence probably in 1636;
but its first legal recognition was in 1721, in an
act providing for the trial of “negro and mulatto
slaves” by two justices and six freeholders. With
this exception the system rested wholly on custom
in Delaware. — In Carolina, under the first union
of the two provinces, the Locke constitution (see
North CAROLINA) provided practically for white
slavery: the “leetmen,” or tenants of ten acres,
were to be fixed to the soil under the jurisdiction
of their lord without appeal; and the children of
leetmen were to be leetmen, “and so to all gener-
ations.” This provision, like most of the others,
was never respected or obeyed. The 110th article
provided that every freeman should have “abso-
lute power and authority over his negro slaves of
what opinion or religion soever.” This met with
more respect, and became the fundamental law of
North Carolina without anything further than stat-
utes for police regulation. — In South Carolina
the first slavery legislation, an act of Feb. 7, 1690,
“for the better ordering of slaves,” took place be-
fore the separation. Slaves are said to have been
introduced by Gov. Yeamans about 1670. June
7, 1712, slavery was formally legalized by an act
declaring all negroes and Indians, theretofore sold
or thereafter to be sold, and their children, “slaves
to all intents and purposes.” The civil law rule
was made law May 10, 1740. The police regula.
tions of this colony were filled with cruel provis-
ions, such as the gelding of a male slave who
should run away for the fourth time; and yet an
act was passed in 1704, and re-enacted in 1708,
for enlisting and arming negro troops. – In Geor-
gia slavery was prohibited at the establishment of
the colony, in 1732. In 1749, after repeated peti
tions from the colonists, the trustees obtained
from parliament the repeal of the prohibition. In
1755 the legislature passed an act regulating the
conduct of slaves; and in 1765 and subsequent
years the laws of South Carolina were re-enacted
by Georgia. — In Pennsylvania slavery is first
heard of in 1688, when Francis Daniel Pastorius.
drew up a memorial against the practice for the
Germantown Quakers. It was not until 1696 that
the Quaker yearly meeting was prepared to act
favorably on the memorial. In 1700 the legisla-
ture forbade the selling of slaves out of the prov-
ince without their consent. The other slavery
legislation of the colony consisted of efforts, more
or less successful, to check or abolish the slave
trade; but, as soon as independence was fairly at-
tained, arrangements were made for gradual abo-
lition. So late as 1795, however, the state supreme
court decided that slavery was not inconsistent
with the state constitution. — In New Jersey
slavery was introduced by the Dutch, but was
not recognized by law until the “concessions” of
1664 (see NEw JERSEY), in which the word “slaves”
occurs. In East Jersey slaves were given trial by
jury in 1694; and in West Jersey the word “slave”
was omitted from the laws. Acts for regulating
the conduct of slaves began with the junction of
the province with New York, in 1702; but these
were never harsh, and the condition of the slave
was more tolerable than in any other colony where
the system was really established. — In New York
slavery came in with the Dutch at an uncertain
period, the Dutch West India company supplying
the slaves. So early as 1628 the inhabitants were
made nervous by the mutinous behavior of some .
of the slaves, but there was no legal recognition
of slavery until 1665, when the duke of York's
laws forbade “slavery of Christians,” thus by im-
plication allowing slavery of heathens. Full rec-
ognition was given by a proviso in the naturaliza-
tion act of 1683, that it should not operate to free
those held as slaves, and by an act of 1706, to al-
low baptism of slaves without freeing them. —In
Connecticut slavery was never directly established
by statute, and the time of its introduction is un-
certain. In 1680 the governor informed the board
of trade, that, “as for blacks, there come some-
times three or four in a year from Barbadoes, and
they are sold usually at the rate of £22 apiece.”
They were eonsidered as servants, rather than as
chattels, could sue their masters for ill treatment
or deprivation of property, and the only legal rec-
ognition of slavery was in such police regulations
as that of 1690, to check the wandering and run-
ning away of “purchased negro servants.” —
Rhode Island passed the first act for the abolition
of slavery in our history, May 19, 1652. In order
to check “the common course practiced among
Englishmen to buy negers (sic),” the act freed all
SLAVERY.
727
slaves brought into the province after ten years'
service. Unfortunately, the act was never obeyed;
custom was too strong for statute law, and existed
without law until the final abolition. The only
legal recognition of the system was in a series of
acts, beginning Jan. 4, 1703, to control the wan-
dering of Indian and negro slaves and servants,
and another, beginning in April, 1708, in which
the slave trade was indirectly legalized by being
taxed. — In Massachusetts a negro is mentioned in
1633 as an estray, “conducted to his master.” In
1636 a Salem ship began the importation of negro
slaves from the West Indies, and thereafter Pequot
slaves were constantly exchanged for Barbadoes
negroes. In 1641 the fundamental laws forbade
slavery, with the following cautious proviso: “un-
less it be lawful captives taken in just wars [Pe-
quots], and such strangers as willingly sell them-
selves [probably-indentured white immigrants] or
are sold to us [negroes].” The explanations in-
serted will show that this was the first legal recog-
nition of slavery in any colony. Under it slavery
grew slowly, and the rule of partus sequitur ven-
trem was established by custom and court decis-
ions. Public sentiment, after the year 1700, was
slowly developed against the system. In Decem-
ber, 1766, a jury gave a negro woman £4 damages
against her master for restraining her of her lib-
erty. John Adams notes at the time that this was
the first case of the kind he had known, though
he heard that there had been many. In 1768 an-
other case was decided for the master, and there-
after the decisions of juries varied to every point
of the compass for twenty years; but it is known
that many of the cases in which the slaves were
successful were gained by connivance of the mas-
ters, in order to relieve themselves of the care of
aged or infirm slaves. John Quincy Adams gives
1787 as the year in which the state supreme court
finally decided, that, under the constitution of
1780, a man could not be sold in Massachusetts. –
In New Hampshire there were but two legal recog-
nitions of slavery, an act of 1714 to regulate the
conduct of “Indian, negro and mulatto servants
and slaves”; and another in 1718 to regulate the
conduct of masters. There were but few slaves
in the colony, and slavery had but a nominal ex-
istence.—Vermont never recognized slavery. (See
ABOLITION, I.) — From all the cases it will be seen
that slavery was the creature of custom. The only
exceptions are a peculiar provision in the law of
Maryland (1663) and Pennsylvania (1725–6) mak-
ing the children of free-born mothers and slave
fathers slaves to their father's master until the age
of thirty; and the laws in a few states re-enslaving
freedmen who refused or neglected to leave the
state. This latter provision was the law of Vir-
ginia from 1705, and was put into the state con-
stitution in 1850; and laws fully equivalent were
passed during their state existence by North Caro-
lina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississip-
pi and Louisiana. In the white heat of the anti-
slavery struggle, laws were passed by Virginia
in 1856, by Louisiana in 1859, and by Maryland
in 1860, providing for the voluntary enslavement
of free negroes; but these were exceptional. Milder
provisions, to the same general effect, to punish
by fine or sale the coming or remaining of free ne-
groes in the state, were inserted in the constitution
of Missouri in 1820, of Texas in 1836 (as a repub-
lic), of Florida in 1838, of Kentucky in 1850, of
Indiana in 1851, and of Oregon in 1857. (See the
states named.) The most troublesome to the north-
ern states were the regulations of the seaboard
slave states, under which negro seamen of north-
ern vessels were frequently imprisoned, and some-
times sold. In 1844 Massachusetts sent Samuel
Hoar to Charleston to bring an amicable suit there
for the purpose of testing the constitutionality of
the South Carolina act. He was received in a very
unfriendly fashion. The legislature passed reso-
lütions requesting the governor to expel him from
the state, and an act making any such mission a
high misdemeanor, punishable by fine and banish-
ment. Finally, on receiving unequivocal assur-
ances of personal violence if he remained, Mr.
Hoar left Charleston without fulfilling his mis-
sion. — However strongly custom may have estab-
lished negro slavery in the colonies, it has been
suggested that the validity of the system was at
least made doubtful by the Sommersett case in
England. In that country, in 1677, the courts
held negro slaves to be property, as “being usu-
ally bought and sold among merchants as mer-
chandise, and also being infidels.” In 1750 custom
had sofar changed that the law was again in doubt.
In 1771 Charles Stewart, of Boston, took his slave
James Sommersett to London, where the latter
fell sick, and was sent adrift by his master. Stew-
art, afterward finding Sommersett recovered, re-
claimed him and put him on a ship in the Thames,
bound for Jamaica. Lord Mansfield issued a writ
of habeas corpus, and decided, June 22, 1772, that
the master could not compel his slave to leave Eng-
land, whose laws did not recognize “So high an
act of dominion.” If the colonies, by charter and
otherwise, were forbidden to pass laws contrary
to the laws of England, and if the laws of Eng-
land did not recognize slavery, was slavery legal
in the colonies? It must be remembered that the
Sommersett decision was not that the laws of Eng-
land forbade slavery, but that there was no law in
England establishing slavery. There was no at-
tempt to make an English custom override an
American custom, and we can not draw any attack
on the American system of slavery out of the Som-
mersett case. — The colonies, then, began their
forcible struggle against the mother country with
a system of negro slavery, recognized everywhere
by law, moribund in the north, but full of vigor
in the south. In the north, where there Was a gen-
eral consciousness that slavery was doomed, the
slaves were generally regarded as servants for life,
as persons whose personality was under Suspen-
sion. In the south they were regularly regarded
by the law and by private opinion as things, as
chattels, with “no rights or privileges but such as
those who held the power and the government
728
SLAVERY.
might choose to grant them,” with all the conse-
quences arising from the fact that they had not
come to America voluntarily, as persons, but in-
voluntarily, as property. In so far the Dred Scott
decision correctly stated the feeling of our fore-
fathers. But the feeling was in great measure a
consequence of the unfortunate adoption of the
rule partus sequitur ventrem: a race to which the
rule was applied could be no other than animal,
and a people among whom the rule prevailed
could never be emancipated from the feeling. For
this reason the revolutionary congress made no at-
tempt to interfere with slavery, except in regard
to the slave trade, to be referred to hereafter. The
state of war itself did little real harm to the sys-
tem. In Virginia, Nov. 7, 1775, Lord Dunmore
proclaimed freedom to all slaves who would fight
for the king, and negro soldiers were enlisted by
Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New
York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia and North
Carolina. South Carolina refused to follow the
recommendation of congress, in 1779, to enlist
3,000 negro troops. A return of the continental
army, Aug. 24, 1778, shows 755 negro soldiers,
not including the New Hampshire, Rhode Island,
Connecticut or New York troops. At the end of
the war Rhode Island, New York and Virginia
freed their negro soldiers, but the system remained
as before. The treaty of peace bound the British
not to carry away any “negroes or other property
of the American inhabitants”; and this colloca-
tion of terms is repeated in the treaty of Ghent
in 1814. All through the period of the confedera-
tion, slavery received no detriment, except in the
action of individual states (see ABOLITION, I.),
and in its exclusion from the northwest territory,
to be referred to hereafter. The states and the
nation began their course under the constitution
with the same general system as before, but
with three modifications : the apportionment of
representation to three-fifths of the slaves; the
power of congress to prohibit the slave trade
after 1808; and the fugitive slave clause. The
first of these made the system of slavery itself a
political factor, represented in the government;
the third offered a tempting and dangerous weapon
to use against an opposing section; and the second
was the death warrant of the whole system in the
double event of the acquisition of foreign territory
and the development of antagonistic sections.
They are therefore treated in special subdivisions.
— Until this time the difference in the slave sys-
tems of the north and of the south had been a
difference of degree rather than of kind. The
basis and the general laws were nominally the same
everywhere; and there was a general agreement
that the system was evil in itself, and that it
was desirable to rid the country of it by gradual
abolition. But, from the beginning, the masterful
white race had found, in the colder north, that it
was easier to do work for itself than to compel work
from the black race, and, in the warmer south,
that it was easier to compel work from the black
race than to do the workfor itself. In both sections
the ruling race followed naturally the line of least
resistance, and negro slavery increased in the
south, and decreased in the north. The process
may be seen in the number of slaves in the colonies
north and south of Mason and Dixon's line, as esti-
mated by the royal governors in 1715, as estimated
by congress in 1775, and as ascertained by the first
census, in 1790, as follows: North, (1715) 10,900,
(1775) 46,102, (1790) 40,370; South, (1715) 47,950,
(1775)455,000, (1790) 657,527. Before 1790 the two
sections had begun to show the contrasting results
of pushing, self-interested free labor on the one
hand, and shiftless, unwilling slave labor on the
other. Gouverneur Morris, in the convention of
1787, thus spoke of slavery at the time: “It was
the curse of Heaven on the states where it pre-
vailed. Travel through the whole continent, and
you behold the prospect continually varying with
the appearance and disappearance of Slavery.
The moment you leave the eastern states and enter
New York, the effects of the institution become
visible. Passing through the Jerseys, and enter-
ing Pennsylvania, every criterion of superior im-
provement witnesses the change. Proceed South-
wardly, and every step you take through the great
regions of slaves presents a desert, increasing with
the increasing proportion of these wretched be-
ings.” Nor was the assertion denied by the south-
erners who heard it. George Mason, of Virginia,
said: “Slavery discourages arts and manufactures.
The poor despise labor when performed by slaves.
They prevent the emigration of whites, who really
enrich and strengthen a country. They produce
the most pernicious effect on manners. Every
master of slaves is born a petty tyrant. They
bring the judgment of Heaven on a country. As
nations can not be rewarded or punished in the
next world, they must be in this. By an inevita-
ble chain of causes and effects Providence pun-
ishes national sins by national calamities.” And
Jefferson, in the same year, after detailing the
evils of slavery, added: “Indeed, I tremble for
my country when Ireflect that God is just, and that
his justice can not sleep forever.” But this sub-
stantial agreement in Sentiment was very soon to
be broken by an event which entirely altered the
paths of the two sections. – Few influences have
so colored the history of the United States and of
negro slavery as the inventions of 1775–93 in Eng-
land and America. In 1775 Crompton's invention
of the mule jenny superseded Hargreaves' spin-
ning machine; in 1783 Watt's steam engine was
adapted to the spinning and carding of cotton at
Manchester; in 1785 cylinder printing of cottons
was invented; and in 1786–8 the use of acid in
bleaching was begun. All the machinery of the
cotton manufacture was thus standing ready for
material. Very little had thus far come from the
United States, for a slave could clean but five Or
six pounds a day for market. In 1784 an Ameri-
can ship which brought eight bags of cotton to
Liverpool was seized on the ground that So much
of the article could not be the produce of the
United States; and Jay's treaty (See that title) at
SLAVERY.
729
first consented that no cotton should be exported
from America. In 1793 Eli Whitney, of Con-
necticut, then residing in Georgia, changed the
history of the country by his invention of the
saw-gin, by which one slave could cleanse 1,000
pounds of cotton from its seeds in a day. He was
robbed of his invention, which the excited plant-
ers instantly appropriated; and slavery ceased to
be a passive, patriarchal institution, and became a
means of gain, to be upheld and extended by its
beneficiaries. The export of cotton, which had
fallen from 189,316 pounds in 1791 to 138,328 in
1792, rose to 487,600 in 1793, to 1,601,760 in 1794,
to 6,276,300 in 1795, and to 38,118,041 in 1804.
Within five years after Whitney's invention cot-
ton had displaced indigo as the great southern
staple, and the slave states had become the cotton
field of the world. In 1859 the export was 1,386, .
468,562 pounds, valued at $161,434,923, and the
next largest export (tobacco) was valued at but
$21,074,038. Was it wonderful that southerners
should say and believe that “cotton is king,” and
that secession could never be attacked by block-
ade, since the great commercial nations, even the
free states themselves, would not thus allow
themselves to be deprived of the raw material
of manufacture? The reader may judge the rea-
sonableness of the belief, and the magnitude of
the temptations to English intervention, by the
value of the English imports of cotton from the
United States and elsewhere, 1861–3, and the co-
incident rise in price : imports from the United
States, (1861) $132,851,995, (1862) $6,106,385,
(1863) $2,300,000; from other countries, (1861)
$65,034,990, (1862) $148,358,840, (1863) $213,-
'700,000; price per lb., (1861) 7 cents, (1862) 13;
cents, (1863) 27% cents. From a purely commer-
cial and agricultural venture the cotton culture
had taken a different aspect. Those who con-
trolled it felt very much the same importance as
a man might feel who had gained control of the
magazine of a man of war, and could threaten
to blow up the whole ship if he should be inter-
fered with in any way. — This development of the
culture of cotton was pregnant with consequences
to both sections. In the north, manufactures and
commerce were developed, and the remnants of
slavery slid to extinction down a steeper and
smoother descent. In the south, the price of
slaves was steadily increasing, and the increased
profit thus indicated was steadily stamping labor
itself as slavery. It is not in financial matters
alone that bad money drives out good: wherever
slave labor was extended, it tended constantly to
expel free labor from the market. Immigration
shunned slave soil as if by instinct, and it was not
long before the whole population of the slave
states was divided into three great classes: the
rich whites, who did no work; the poor whites,
who knew not how to work; and the slaves,
who only worked when compelled to work.
The results on the economical development of the
country may easily be imagined. No one was
under any special incentive to work, to invent, or
to surpass his neighbors; slaves, the only working
class,"could not be trusted to engage in any labor
requiring care or thought; success in anything
higher than the culture of cotton, tobacco or su.
gar, meant the inevitable freedom of the laborer;
and long before 1850 “southern shiftlessness” had
become chronic, hopeless and proverbial, even in
the south. The reader who wishes for details will
find them (from the census of 1850) in von Holst's
third volume, or in Sumner's speech of June,
1860, as cited below; and an instructive descrip-
tion of affairs in 1860 is in Olmstead’s two vol-
umes. – Even on the culture of the Soil the influ-
ence of the slave system was for evil. Only free
labor can get large profits from a small surface,
and the unwilling and unintelligent labor of slaves
required so much larger area for its exercise that
in 1850 there were to the square mile only 18.93
inhabitants in the southern states CO 45.8 in the
northern states. Slavery, like Tacitus’ Germans,
demanded empty acres all around it. In 1860
the acreage of improved to unimproved lands in
Virginia was 11,437,821 to 19,679,215; in North
Carolina, 6,517,824 to 17,245,685; in South Car-
olina, 4,572,060 to 11,623,859; and in Georgia,
8,062,758 to 18,587,732. The older slave states
have been selected; in the new slave states the
comparison is equally or more unfavorable. In
the old free state of New York the comparison
stood 14,358,403 improved to 6,616,555 unim-
proved; in the new free state of Illinois, 13,096,374
to 7,815,615. Of the free states, all but California,
Iowa, Maine, Michigan, Minnesota, Oregon and
Wisconsin had more improved than unimproved
land in farms; of the slave states, only Delaware
and Maryland. The comparison of the price of
lands is still more unfavorable to slavery, varying
in such near neighbors as Pennsylvania and Vir-
ginia from $25 per acre in the former to $8 per
acre in the latter. The average value of northern
farms in 1860 was $29 an acre; of southern farms,
$9.80. This constant necessity for elbow room
for slave labor was the ground reason for its con-
stant effort to stretch out after new territory. A
planter's policy was to take up as much land as
possible, scratch the surface until his slaves could
or would extract no more from it, and then Search
for virgin soil; for it was cheaper to pass the Mis-
sissippi, or invade Texas, than to cultivate a worn-
out farm with slave labor. Scientific agriculture,
and the revivification of so-called worn-out farms,
were never attempted until the overthrow of
slavery; and, since they have begun, we hear no
more of the need for new territory for Cotton.
— The influence of slavery upon the Section in
which it existed was particularly evil in regard to
the possibilities of warfare. Not only did it throt-
tle commerce, manufactures, literature, art, every-
thing which goes to make a people independent
of the rest of the world: its influence in checking
the natural increase of fighting men is plainly per-
ceptible in the decennial census tables. Even
when there is an apparent equality of numbers
between the two sections, the equality is delusive,
730
SLAVERY.
so long as the southern scale is partly filled with a
population not only non-combatant but actually
to be distrusted as possibly hostile. For this rea-
son, in the following table, taking separately the
states which were free and slave in 1860, the pop-
ulation of the free states is given first, then the
population of the slave states (excluding slaves),
and finally the slaves.
1790. 1800. 1810. 1820,
North--------- 1,968,040 2,684,616 3,758,910 5,152,372
South--------- 1,303,647 | 1,764,211 2,317,048 2,966,989
Slaves -------- 657,527 857,105 | 1,163,854 1,518,930
1830. 1840. 1850. 1860.
North--------- 7,006,399 || 9,733,922 || 13,599,488 19,128,418
South --------- 3,842,843 || 4,848,107 || 6,459,946 8,361,848
Slaves -------- 2,005,469 2,486,326 3,204,051 3,953,524
of our people.
Whatever causes may be assigned to explain the
growing disproportion of free population and
fighting men of the two sections, it is evident that
the slave states were worse fitted at the end of
each successive period for a forcible struggle with
the free states, and that the sceptre was departing
from the South. — It is not proposed in this article
to touch on the moral aspect of slavery, or the
absurd Biblical arguments for and against it: the
rigid application of the partus Sequitur ventrem,
rule, combined with the material interests of the
cotton monopoly, will absolutely distinguish ne-
gro slavery in the United States from every system
that has preceded it. We may summarize the
economical evils of the system, in those points
which no one can dispute, in a few words. It
paralyzed invention and commerce; it prevented
manufactures and the general introduction of rail-
roads, steam machinery, or improved agricultural
implements; it degraded labor by white as well as
by black men; it stunted all the energies of the
people, and deprived them of those physical com-
forts which were regarded elsewhere as almost
necessaries; it dwarfed the military ability of the
people, at the same time that it increased the mili-
tary ambition of the ruling class, and kept the poor
whites So ignorant that to them their state was a
universe, its will sovereign, and its power irre-
sistible. Every year increased the pile of explo-
sives in the southern territory, and yet the force
of events compelled slavery to grow more aggres-
sive as it grew really weaker for war. That a
people so situated, with no resources of their
own and with little power to draw from without,
should have waged the final war as they did, is al-
most enough to hide in the glory of their defeat the
evil thing that went down with them. The enor-
mous Strides of the southern states from 1870 un-
til 1880 show what the same people can do under
free labor, and nearly all southern writers are
agreed that the South was the greatest gainer by
the overthrow of slavery. President Haygood,
of Georgia, in a thanksgiving sermon of 1880,
says: “For one illustration, take the home life
There is ten times the comfort,
there was twenty years ago. Travel through your
own country—and it is rather below than above
the average — by any public or private road.
Compare the old and the new houses. Those
built recently are better in every way than those
built before the war. I do not speak of an occa-
sional mansion that in the old times lifted itself
proudly among a score of cabins, but of the thou-
sands of decent farm houses and comely cottages
that have been built in the last ten years. I know
scores whose new barns are better than their old
residences. Our people have better furniture.
Good mattresses have largely driven out the old-
time feathers. Cook stoves, Sewing machines,
with all such comforts and conveniences, may be
seen in a dozen homes to-day where you could

hardly have found them in one in 1860. Lamps,
that make reading agreeable, have driven out the
tallow dip, by whose glimmering no eyes could
long read and continue to see. Better taste asserts
itself: the new houses are painted; they have not
only glass, but blinds. There is more comfortin-
side. There are luxuries where once there were
not conveniences. Carpets are getting to be come
mon among the middle classes. There are par-
lor organs, pianos and pictures where we never
saw them before. And so on, to the end of a
long chapter. There are more people at work in
the south to-day than were ever at work before;
and they are raising not only more cotton, but
more of everything else. And no wonder, for the
farming of to-day is better than the farming of
the old days, first, in better culture, second, in
the ever-increasing tendency to break up the great
plantations into small farms. Our present system
is more than restoring what the old System de-
stroyed.” — II. THE SYSTEM INTERNALLY. The
Louisiana civil code (Art. 35) thus defines a slave:
“One who is in the power of a master to whom
he belongs. The master may sell him, dispose of
his person, his industry and his labor; he can do
nothing, possess nothing, nor acquire anything
but what must belong to his master.” This com-
prehensive definition will show the status of the
slave and the rights of the master sufficiently to
obviate the necessity of any full statement of the
slave laws of the states. For these the reader is
referred to the authorities cited below. As slav-
ery rested on custom, its regulation was uniformly
by statute, the constitution usually ignoring it, and
leaving it wholly in the power of the legislature.
Slavery was never mentioned in the state consti-
tutions of Delaware, Maryland (until 1837), Vir-
ginia (until 1850), . North Carolina (except a
mere mention of slaves in 1835), South Carolina
(except a qualification of negroes for membership
in the legislature in 1790), or Louisiana. In the
new states slavery was legalized by that provision
of their constitutions which forbade the legisla-
ture to emancipate slaves without consent of their
owners, or to prevent immigrants from bringing
their slaves into the state : Such provisions were
SIAVERY.
731
inserted by Kentucky in 1792, Georgia in 1798,
Mississippi in 1817, Alabama in 1819, Missouri
in 1820, Tennessee in 1834, Arkansas in 1836,
Maryland in 1837, Florida in 1838, Texas in 1836
and 1845, and Virginia in 1850; and these con-
tinued in force until the final abolition of slavery.
Trial by jury for crimes above the grade of petit
larceny was secured to the slave by the constitu-
tions of Kentucky in 1799, Mississippi in 1817,
Alabama in 1819, Missouri in 1820, and Texas in
1845, and by various statutes in Georgia, Tennessee,
North Carolina and Maryland, but was denied in
any case in South Carolina, Virginia and Louisiana.
There were also provisions in most of the states for
the punishment of the willful and deliberate mur-
der of a slave. The benefit of both these provisions,
however, was largely nullified by the universal
rules of law that a negro's testimony could not be
received against a white man, and that the killing of
a slave who should resist “lawful authority” was
justifiable homicide. As slavery grew more exten-
sive the necessity for repressive legislation to act
upon the slaves became more pressing, and the
slave codes more severe, until every white person
felt himself to be a part of a military force guard-
ing a dangerous array of prisoners. Education
of slaves was strictly forbidden, though this pro-
vision was frequently evaded or disobeyed in in-
dividual cases. The pass system was in full vigor
everywhere, and even the younger girls of the
master race did not hesitate to stop a strange negro
on the road, examine his pass, or order him to a
particular house for examination. It was a strange
society, always on the alert, always with its hand
on the sword, and cruel and evil things were done
in it. The burning of negroes as a punishment
for heinous offenses was not an uncommon thing,
nor was it by any means the most shocking of the
crimes in the punishment of which George Mason's
prophetic words of 1787 were rigidly fulfilled.
Many of the evils had a reflex influence upon the
men of the dominant race; but the women, shielded
from personal contact with most of the evil, and
trained from childhood in the daily exercise of
the heroic virtues, developed an unusual force of
character, to which much of the stubborn endur-
ance of the war was due, and even more of the
sudden rejuvenation of the south after the war.—
Black Codes, or Black Laws. These penal laws of
the slave states had a very direct influence upon
the legislation of several of the free states, par-
ticularly of those to which there had been a large
southern migration. Ohio, in 1803, forbade ne-
groes to settle in the state without recording a cer-
tificate of their freedom ; in 1807 passed an act
denying to negroes the privilege of testifying in
cases in which a white man was interested on
either side; and followed this up by excluding
them from the public schools, and requiring them
to give bonds for their good behavior while resid-
ing in the state. In 1849 these “black laws” were
repealed as a part of the bargain between the dem-
ocrats and free-soilers. (See OHIO.) The legisla-
tion of Illinois in 1819, 1827 and 1853, imitated
that of Ohio, and in 1851 Indiana inserted similar
provisions in her state constitution, which the
state courts, in 1866, held to be void, as repugnant
to the constitution of the United States. The same
provisions were adopted by Iowa in 1851 by statute,
and were made a part of the state constitution of
Oregon in 1857. Wherever the state constitutions
prescribed conditions of admission to the militia,
as in Indiana in 1816, Illinois in 1818, Iowa in 1846,
Michigan in 1850, Ohio in 1851, and Kansas in
1859, negroes were excluded; and in the states
where the composition of the militia was left to
the legislature the exclusion was as fully attained
by statute. As a general rule, most of this legisla-
tion was swept away as rapidly as the republican
party obtained complete control of each state, after
1856. — Insurrections. No slave race has organ-
ized so few insurrections as the negro race in the
United States. This can hardly be due to the
natural cowardice of the race, for its members
have made very good soldiers when well organ-
ized; nor to the exceptional gentleness of the sys-
tem, for it was one of increasing severity; nor
wholly to the affection of the negroes for their
masters, for the great plantation system, under
which there could be little affection on either side,
had been fairly established in 1860, and yet there
was no insurrection throughout the rebellion. It
is encouraging to believe that the race, by long
contact with the white race, has imbibed some-
thing of that respect for law which has always
characterized the latter, so that the negroes, how-
ever enterprising when backed by the forms of
law, patiently submitted to legal servitude. It is
certain that revolt, during their history as slaves,
was regularly individual, and that most of it was
only revolt by legal construction. In 1710 a negro
insurrection is said to have been planned in Vir-
ginia, but it was balked by one of the conspira-
tors, who revealed the plot, and was rewarded by
emancipation. In 1740 a local insurrection broke
out in South Carolina, but it was stamped out in-
stantly by the militia. In New York a negro plot
was unearthed in February and March, 1741, and
as a consequence of the intense popular excite-
ment a number of negroes and whites were hung,
and several negroes burned; but the whole story
of the “conspiracy” seems now of the flimsiest
possible construction. In 1820 Denmark Vesey,
a St. Domingo mulatto, organized a negro insur-
rection in Charleston. It was revealed, Vesey and
thirty-four others were hung, and a like number
were sold out of the state. In August, 1831, the
most formidable of all the insurrections broke out
in Southampton county, near Norfolk, Virginia,
led by Nat Turner. He believed that he had been
instructed by Heaven, three years before, to rebel,
the sign being an eclipse of the sun in February,
1831; but, oppressed by a sense of the greatness
of the task, he fell sick, and did not begin until
August. With fifty associates he then began a
massacre of the whites, sparing neither age nor
sex. The insurrection was at once suppressed,
and Turner, after several weeks’ concealment, was
732
SLAVERY.
captured and executed in November. The total
loss of life was sixty-one whites and over a hun-
dred negroes. The Seminole war in Florida par-
took very much of the character of a negro insur-
rection. While Florida was under Spanish rule,
very many fugitive slaves had taken refuge there
and intermarried with the Indians; and the desire
of reclaiming them was the secret of many of the
Indian difficulties of that region. In 1816 Amer-
ican troops blew up the “negro fort ’’ on the Ap-
palachicola, which was the headquarters of the
fugitives. On the annexation of Florida (see AN-
NExATIONS, II.), slave hunting increased in eager-
ness, and the fugitives were pursued into the
everglades. In 1833 the Seminoles had about 200
slaves of their own and 1,200 fugitives. One of
the latter, the wife of Osceola, was seized while
trading at Fort King, and her enraged husband
at once began open war. It was conducted with
inhuman cruelty on both sides, the most promi-
ment example being the massacre of Major Dade's
command, Dec. 28, 1835. The American com-
manders hardly ever made any secret of the great
object of the war, the recapture of the fugitives;
and, as the Seminoles refused to make any treaty
in which the fugitives were not included, the war
was long and expensive. In 1845 a treaty was
arranged for the removal of both Seminoles and
fugitives beyond the Mississippi, but the claim-
ants pursued the latter with every form of legal
attack, secured some of them, and, in 1852, ob-
tained payment from congress for the remainder.
The Harper's Ferry insurrection (see BRowN,
John) closed the list of negro revolts. – III. THE
SYSTEM ExTERNALLY : THE SLAVE TRADE. 1.
Foreign Slave Trade. It has long been a general
belief that the colonies, before the revolution, were
anxious to prohibit the slave trade, but were pre-
vented by the crown's instructions to the gov-
ernors to veto any such laws; and the Virginia
declaration of June 29, 1776, denounces the king
for “prompting our negroes to rise in arms
among us, those very negroes whom, by an inhu-
man use of his negative, he had refused us per-
mission to exclude by law.” The case is complete
enough against the crown. From the time of
Hawkins' slaving cruise in 1562 the British gov-
ernment was an active partner in the slave trade.
By the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, it secured
for one of its monopolies the slave trade from
Africa to the West Indies; in 1750 it benefi-
cently threw open the trade to all its subjects;
and its consistent policy is well stated in the
official declaration of the earl of Dartmouth in
1775, that “the golonies must not be allowed to
check or discourage in any degree a traffic so bene-
ficial to the nation.” But it is not so easy to clear
the skirts of the colonies. The assertion of their
desire to suppress the trade rests on the passage of
a great number of acts laying duties upon it: the
titles of twenty-four of these acts in Virginia are
given in Judge Tucker's Appendix to Blackstone.
But almost invariably these acts were passed for
revenue only, and the Virginia act of 1752 notices
in its preamble that the duty had been found “no
ways burdensome to the traders.” It was not until
the opening of the revolution that any honest
effort was made to suppress the trade, except in
Pennsylvania, where bills to abolish the slave
trade were passed in 1712, 1714 and 1717, and
vetoed. The Massachusetts general court passed
a bill to prohibit the slave trade, March 7, 1774,
and another, June 16 following; but both were
vetoed. It was prohibited further by Rhode
Island in June, 1774; by Connecticut in October,
1774; and by the non-importation covenant of the
continental congress, Oct. 24, 1774, as follows:
“We will neither import nor purchase any slave
imported after the first day of December next,
after which time we will wholly discontinue the
slave trade, and will neither be concerned in it
ourselves, nor will we hire our vessels, nor Sell Our
commodities or manufactures to those who are
concerned in it.” This covenant, ratified by the
states, north and south, checked the trade for the
time. No further attempt was made by congress
to interfere with the trade; and the ratification of
the articles of confederation in 1781 gave the states
the power to regulate this and all other species of
commerce. — In the formation of the constitution
the question of the regulation of the slave trade
offered a great difficulty. The three southern
states demanded its continuance, alleging that
Virginia and Maryland desired to prohibit it only
to secure a domestic market for their Own Surplus
slaves. The matter was compromised (see COM-
PROMISEs, III.) by allowing congress to prohibit it
after 1808. In the meantime the act of March 22,
1794, prohibited the carrying of slaves by Amer-
ican citizens from one foreign country to another;
the act of May 10, 1800, allowed United States
war vessels to seize ships engaged in such trade;
and the act of Feb. 28, 1803, prohibited the in-
troduction of slaves into states which had forbid-
den the slave trade by law. Virginia had done so
by statute in 1778 and 1785, Georgia by constitu-
tional provision in 1798, South Carolina by statute
in 1787 (repealed in 1803), and North Carolina by
statute in 1798. Finally, congress, by act of March
2, 1807, prohibited the importation of slaves al-
together after the close of the year; the acts of
April 20, 1818, and March 3, 1819, authorized the
president to send cruisers to the coast of Africa to
stop the trade; and the act of May 15, 1820, de-
clared the foreign slave trade to be piracy. It can
not, however, be truly said that the slave trade
was abolished: it never really ceased before 1865.
The census of 1870 assigns Africa as the birth-
place of nearly 2,000 negroes, and it is impossible
even to estimate the number illegally imported
from 1808 until 1865. The sixth section of the act of
March 2, 1807, allowed negroes confiscated under
the act to be disposed of as the legislature of the
state might direct; and Southern legislatures
promptly directed the sale of the confiscated ne-
groes. This absurd section, which introduced
slaves into the south, while punishing the im-
porter, was repealed March 3, 1819, and the Con-
SLAVERY.
733
fiscated negroes were ordered to be returned to
Africa. The claim of British naval officers on the
African coast to visit and search vessels flying the
American flag, but suspected of being slavers, was
steadily resisted by the American government, and
led to an infinite variety of diplomatic difficulties
and correspondence, which the reader will find
detailed in William Beach Lawrence's volume,
cited below. It was finally compromised by ar-
ticles eight and nine of the Webster-Ashburton
treaty, Aug. 9, 1842, by which the two govern-
ments agreed to maintain independent Squadrons
on the African coast, to act in conjunction. Dif-
ficult as this made the slave trade, it by no means
suppressed it; and, as the price of negroes in the
south rose higher, importations increased, and so
did the difficulties of obtaining convictions from
southern juries. The most notorious case was that
of the Georgia yacht Wanderer, in December,
1858, but it was not the only one. According to
the “Evening Post,” of New York city, 85 vessels
were fitted out from that port for the slave trade
during eighteen months of 1859–60, the names of
the vessels being given; and another newspaper
of the same city estimated the cargoes introduced
by these New York vessels alone at from 30,000 to
60,000 negroes annually. Said a Georgia delegate
in the Charleston convention of 1860: “If any of
you northern democrats will go home with me to
my plantation I will show you some darkies that
I bought in Virginia, some in Delaware, some in
Florida, and I will also show you the pure African,
the noblest Roman of them all. I represent the
African slave trade interest of my section.” In
1858 an ingenious attempt was made to evade the
law. A Charleston vessel applied for a clearance
to the African coast “for the purpose of taking on
board African emigrants, in accordance with the
United States passenger laws.” Howell Cobb,
secretary of the treasury, refused to give the clear-
ance. — As we approach the year 1860 we find
growing apprehensions of the reopening of the
foreign slave trade. It must be remembered that
congress was only permitted not directed, to abol-
ish the trade after 1808, and that a simple repeal
of the law of 1807 would have made it as legal as
any other branch of commerce. The inherent
weakness of the system of slavery, which grew
weaker as it widened, imperatively demanded the
repeal. To retain political power it was necessary
to introduce the custom of slavery into the new
territories in order to prepare them to be slave
states. For this the domestic supply would not
suffice ; and Alex. H. Stephens, in his farewell
speech to his constituents, July 2, 1859, says that
his object is “to bring clearly to your mind the
great truth that without an increase of African
slaves from abroad, you may not expect or look
for many more slave states.” The repeal of the
law of 1807, and the revival of the foreign slave
trade, were advocated by the southern commercial
convention in 1858 and 1859, by De Bow’s “Re-
view,” and by a great and growing number of
leading men and newspapers. It was even taking
the aspect of a new phase of a distinct southern
political creed, an effort to repeal that which was
a standing condemnation of slaveholding and slave-
holders. Before anything definite could be at-
tempted, secession intervened. The constitution
of the confederate states forbade the foreign slave
trade, and “required ” congress to pass such laws
as should effectually prevent the same. How long
this prohibition would have endured, if independ-
ence had been achieved, can not be conjectured,
but it is certain that a slaveholding government
would have found far more difficulty in enforcing
such a prohibition than the government of the
United States had found. — 2. The Domestic Slave
Trade. Even barring secession and rebellion, negro
slavery had always a possible danger in the un-
doubted power of congress to regulate commerce
‘‘ between the states.” Should this power ever
find a majority in congress ready to apply it in an
unfriendly spirit to the sale of slaves from state to
state, and thus to coop up each body of slaves in
its own territory, the system would be injured in
a vital point. For this reason the ninth section of
the act of 1807 allowed the transfer of slaves from
point to point along the coast in vessels of not
more than forty tons burden. After the abolition
of slavery in the British colonies, American coast-
ing vessels with slaves on board would occasion-
ally be forced by stress of weather into British
West India ports, when the authorities at once
liberated the slaves. Diplomatic complications
followed, of course; but the British government
steadily refused to pay for the slaves liberated,
except in cases which had occurred before the
abolition of slavery in the colonies. (See CREOLE
CASE, and the authorities there cited for the other
cases.) The domestic slave trade by land was
never interfered with until the abolition of slavery,
except by the unavoidable operations of war dur-
ing the rebellion. A bill was introduced by Sum-
ner in 1864 to prohibit it, but it came to nothing.
A bill to repeal the sections of the act of 1807
permitting the coastwise slave trade was added as
a rider to an appropriation bill, and became law
July 2, 1864. — IV. THE SUFFRAGE CLAUSE AND
THE “SLAVE PoweR.” The constitution (see
COMPROMISES, I.) gave to the states in which slav-
ery existed legal representation in the lower house
of congress for three-fifths of their slaves. In this
provision there was innate an influence which was
as potent on the political aspect of the slave sys-
tem as the cotton culture was upon its material
aspect. It must be remembered, that, in spite of
the number of slaves in the south, slave owning
was not at all general in that section. In 1850 the
white population of the south was 6,459,946, and
De Bow, superintendent of the census, and a pro-
slavery southerner, gives the number of slave-
holders as only 347,525, classified as follows: hold-
ers of 1 slave, 68,820; 2 to 5 slaves, 105,683; 6 to
10 slaves, 80,765; 11 to 20 slaves, 54,595; 21 to 50
slaves, 29,733; 51 to 100 slaves, 6, 196; 101 to 200
slaves, 1,479; 201 to 300 slaves, 187; 301 to 500
slaves, 56; 501 to 1,000 slaves, 9; over 1,000 slaves,
'734
SLAVERY.
2. But even this statement, De Bow admits, has
an element of deceptiveness, for most of the Small
holders were not slave owners, but slave hirers;
and he estimates the actual number of slave Own-
ers at 186,551. In 1850, 90 of the 234 members of
the house of representatives were apportioned to
the slaveholding states. If we omit from their
population three-fifths of the number of their
slaves in 1850, they would have been entitled in
round numbers to but 70 representatives. The
other 20 members represented only the 186,551
slave owners, and the loosest examination of the
majorities by which bills passed the house of rep-
resentatives during the anti-slavery conflict will
show that the introduction of these 20 votes was
usually the decisive factor down to 1855. This
consequence was apparent from an early date.
The repeal of the suffrage clause was demanded
in 1814 (see CoNVENTION, HARTFORD); and the
demand grew still stronger after 1833, and never
failed to excite the hottest wrath of southern mem-
bers. Perhaps the occasion which roused the most
intense feeling was the presentation by John
Quincy Adams in congress, Dec. 21, 1843, of a
formal proposal from the democratic legislature of
Massachusetts to amend the constitution by repeal-
ing the three-fifths clause. In congress it was de-
nounced unsparingly, and refused the privilege of
printing, and out of congress the fervor of denun-
ciation was unreportable. — But the direct opera-
tion of the three-fifths clause was far less than its
indirect influence. It must be remembered that
the 200,000 slave owners necessarily included in
their ranks almost all the governors, judges, legis-
lators, and leading men of the slave states, and
their senators and representatives also, since the
purchase of one or more slaves was the first step
of any man who began to acquire wealth ; and
that all these men were united by a common pur-
pose, the protection of property, which was Supe-
rior in its every-day Operation to almost any other
claim. Practically, then, the 200,000 slave own-
ers, recruited from time to time by new accessions,
formed a dominant class; and the ninety repre-
sentatives and thirty Senators (in 1850) not only
represented them, but were selected from their
number. Such a political force as this had never
before appeared in American politics: the utmost
conceivable evils of the influence of corporations
must pale their fires before it; and it is no wonder,
that, as it rose gloomier and more threatening upon
the Southern sky, the instinctive political sense of
the people gave it the name of the “slave power.”
In the nature of things this power could not be
conservative: it must be aggressive, for the interest
represented by it demanded extension to obtain
profit; and yet, as it grew wider, it grew weaker,
and needed still warmer support. The general,
double-acting rule was : the more slaves, the more
territory; the more territory, the more slaves. It
was not in human nature for the men who made
up the slave power to resist an influence so con-
stant, so natural, so silent and so powerful, and
the vicious twist given by it to the whole southern
policy grew stronger yearly. No influence, even
that of honor, could resist its undermining or es-
cape being argued away. It was progressively
successful in transplanting the custom of slavery
beyond the Mississippi, in swinging the whole
force of the nation upon Mexico for the acquisi-
tion of new slave territory, and in violating the
condition precedent on which it had obtained the
admission of Missouri as a slave state ; and it was
partially prepared in 1861 to shock the conscience
of civilization by reopening the foreign slave trade,
to whose suppression the good faith of the nation
was pledged. But, before this last effort could
be made, its time had come. The internal defects
of the combined cotton-slave system could not re-
main stationary. Nothing is more certain than
that, from 1850 to 1860, the number of slave own-
ers was diminishing, particularly in the gulf states,
the plantations were growing larger, the cotton
culture was becoming less and less patriarchal
and more and more of a business, and the slave
power itself was growing more compact, grasping :
and reckless. It might have been that, without
secession, this concentrating process would have
gone on until the non-slaveholding whites of the
south would have united against it; but that pos-
sibility was never tried. In 1860 the rising anti-
slavery tide of the north and west came into flat
collision with the rising tide of the slave power,
and equilibrium was at last restored by violence.
— It was not alone the inherent grasping nature
of the slave power which affronted the non-slave-
holding states and helped to bring about the final
catastrophe. It is no reflection upon Southern
legislators of the present to say that the slave-
holding member of congress until 1861 was in
general an exceedingly unpleasant personage.
His faults of thought, feeling, expression and
manner, were long ago explained by Jefferson.
“If a parent had no other motive, either in his
own philanthropy or in his self-love, for restrain-
ing the intemperance of passion toward his slave,
it should always be a sufficient one that his child
is present. But generally it is not sufficient. The
parent storms, the child looks on, catches the lin-
eaments of wrath, puts on the same airs in the
circle of smaller slaves, gives a loose rein to his
worst passions, and thus nursed, educated and
daily exercised in tyranny, can not but be stamped
by it with odious peculiarities.” However unjust
it may be in theory to wage a political crusade
against bad manners, it is as certain as anything
can be that the political union of the free states in
1860 was largely brought about by the ‘‘ odious
peculiarities” of slaveholding members of con-
gress in debate. Their boisterous violence, their
willingness to take liberties of language, Con-
trasted with their unwillingness to allow the same
liberty to opponents, their disposition to supple-
ment discussion with actual violence Or threats of
it, the indescribable and merciless assumption of
an acknowledged superiority, made the debates of
1850–60 a shameful record, and are still remem-
bered by their old opponents, with a certain sore-
SLAVERY.
735
ness, as “plantation manners.” It was bad enough
that a senator should be clubbed into unconscious-
ness for words spoken in debate (see BROOKS, P.
S.); it was, if anything, worse that his first speech
on his return to the senate should be answered by
a South Carolina senator with the remark that
“we are not inclined again to send forth the re-
cipient of punishment howling through the world,
yelping fresh cries of slander and malice.” South-
ern writers will never fully understand the elec-
tion of 1860 until they come to study, in the light
of the new training, the debates which preceded
it. — A power so situated, in a constantly weak-
ening minority in the nation, and yet supreme
in influence in its own states, was necessari-
ly particularist in theory. Where it ruled, the
forefathers had said state sovereignty and meant
state rights, while their descendants said state
rights and meant state sovereignty. (See that title.)
And the development of the great cotton interest
made state sovereignty even worse than it was by
nature: instead of the jarring and comparatively
innocuous demands of state Sovereignty, it banded
together a number of states by a common con-
trolling interest, and evoked the deadly peril of
sectional sovereignty. (See NULLIFICATION, SE-
CESSION.) State rights could never have caused
a blow; even state sovereignty would have died a
harmless and natural death; but slavery and sec-
tional state sovereignty each so acted and reacted
upon the evil points of the other that the com-
bined tumor was at last beyond reach of anything
but the knife. But, during its existence, slavery
never hesitated upon occasion to drop state sov-
ereignty for the time, and use the nation and the
national idea as political forces for its advance-
ment; and yet it never did so, except in the case
of the acquisition of Florida, without injuring
itself. In its infancy it acquired the territory
west of the Mississippi (see ANNExATIONs, I.) by
a process which was only defensible on the ground
that the powers of the government were given by
a nation, and not by sovereign states; and out of
this territory grew its subsequent difficulties. (See
CoMPROMISEs, IV.; KANSAs NEBRASKA BILL.) It
flung the nation upon Mexico, and the disputes
over the territory thus acquired first put the anti-
slavery sentiment into political shape. It forced
the passage of a fugitive slave act fatally adverse
to state Sovereignty and state rights in compensa-
tion for the admission of California as a state (see
COMPROMISES, W.; FUGITIVE SLAVE LAWs), an
act whose operation made its moving power the
object not only of dread but of abhorrence in the
free states. Finally, by transferring theoretical
state Sovereignty into practical secession, it com-
pelled such an extensive showing of national
power that the effects will be felt for generations
to come. — W. SLAVERY IN TERRITORIES AND
NEw STATES. It is certain that slavery in the
Original states was founded on custom only, and
the same foundation, if any, must be found for
slavery in territories and new states. The modern
states of Kentucky and Tennessee, for example,
were never colonies or territories of their parent
states : they were integral parts of Virginia and
North Carolina, and the custom of slavery was
established at Nashville or Harrodsburgh on just
the same basis as at Beaufort or Richmond.
When their separation from the parent states
took place, the custom of slavery remained, and
they entered the Union as slave states. Granting
that no opposition to slavery was felt by the na-
tion at large, the same process might have been
repeated anywhere, and custom, unopposed, might
have made any territory slave soil, and brought
it into the Union as a slave state. It is, therefore,
impossible to admit fully the dogma, so popular
and useful in the anti-slavery conflict, that the
national territory was free soil without any statu-
tory enactment. It might be free, and it might
be slave, according to custom. In the cases of .
Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi and Alabama,
the cessions of their territory were accepted by
the United States from Virginia, North Carolina,
South Carolina and Georgia, under a pledge not
to interfere with the existing custom of slavery.
The rights of all these states to the territory which
they professed to cede, like the rights of New
York, Connecticut and Massachusetts to the
northwestern territory, were exceedingly doubt-
ful (see TERRITORIES, I.); nevertheless, the pledge
was honorably fulfilled. — The slaveholding states
always denied that any act of congress could pro-
hibit the custom of slavery in a territory. But
this is as impossible of acceptance as the free soil
dogma above stated. The territories were cer-
tainly not without law. Their inhabitants were
not the law-making power, for then there would
have been no distinction between territories and
states. On any other subject than slavery, no
one, in court or congress, denied that congress
was the law-maker for the territories. But slav-
ery was only a custom; and, while no one denies
that a custom is valid until abrogated by statute,
this has been the only case in which it has been
seriously asserted that any custom is above and
beyond abrogation by statute. So evident was
this in 1787 that the ordinance of that year (see
ORDINANCE of 1787) abolished slavery in the terri-
tory northwest of the Ohio, in whose case no re-
straining pledge had been given. The articles of
confederation, which were then in force, gave
congress no power to so prohibit slavery, or, in-
deed, to hold or govern territory at all. The
whole act was so obviously a consequence of the
national power to hold and govern its own terri-
tory, and was so plain a parallel to the proposal
to similarly prohibit slavery in the Mexican annex-
ations (see WILMOT PROVISO), that southern writ-
ers have endeavored to avoid it in two ways: 1.
They assert that the ordinance was merely an ex-
pression of the will of the several states, a new
article of confederation, so to speak. This is im-
possible. The state vote on the ordinance of 1787
was indeed unanimous, but this fact has no bear-
ing on the matter, for the ordinance of 1784, which
covered much the same ground (excepting the
736
SLAVERY.
prohibition of slavery), was not adopted by unan-
imous vote, South Carolina voting in the negative,
and yet its validity was never impeached on that
account. Further, the articles of confederation
were to be amended by state legislatures only :
however we may admit the power of a national
convention to override them, we can hardly ac-
knowledge the power of congress itself to amend
them. 2. Judge Taney, in the Dred Scott decis-
ion, holds that the ordinance of 1787 “had be-
come inoperative and a nullity upon the adoption
of the constitution.” If this was so, and if it
was true, as the same decision holds, that the
power of congress to “make all needful rules and
regulations” for the territory of the United States
was intended to be confined to the territory then
owned by the United States, and not to be ex-
tended to territory subsequently acquired, the
fugitive slave law of 1850 was in a large degree
unconstitutional. It was based on the fugitive
slave clause of the constitution: but this only al-
lowed the reclamation of slaves from one state to
another state. (See FUGITIVE SLAVE LAws.)
During the territorial existence of the northwest
the ground was covered by this proviso to the
prohibition of slavery by the ordinance of 1787:
“provided always that any person escaping into
the same, from whom labor or service is lawfully
claimed in any one of the original states, such
fugitive may be lawfully reclaimed and conveyed
to the person claiming his or her labor or service
as aforesaid.” If the power to make “rules and
regulations” for the territories only applied to the
territory owned in 1789, and was intended to
supply the place of the fugitive slave clause in
the superseded ordinance of 1787, it follows that
the fugitive slave law of 1793 exhausted the con-
stitutional powers of congress to provide for the
reclamation of fugitive slaves to a territory. All
the trans-Mississippi territory was subsequently
acquired; and, if the Dred Scott decision was cor-
rect, the fugitive slave law of 1850 was uncon-
stitutional in providing for the reclamation of fu-
gitive slaves from it. The consequence must have
been that the trans-Mississippi territories, whether
slavery were allowed or prohibited in them, would
have been a sort of Alsatia, a safe refuge for fugi-
tive slaves; and slavery would have been at a great-
er disadvantage than under the ordinance of 1787.
—The custom of slavery was already in existence
in Louisiana and Florida at the time of their an-
nexation, but the responsibility for its enlargement
is directly upon congress. The act of March 26,
1804, provided that no slaves should be introduced
into the territory, except “by a citizen of the Unit-
ed States, removing into said territory for actual
Settlement, and being at the time of such removal
boma fide owner of such slave or slaves”; and the
act of March 30, 1822, while forbidding the im-
portation of slaves from without the United States,
by implication allowed the domestic slave trade.
Both acts confirmed the laws then in force in the
territories, and not inconsistent with the acts; and
as the territorial laws recognized slavery, it con-
tinued in force, and Louisiana and Florida entered.
the Union as slave states. Upon the admission of
Louisiana as a state, the continuance of the cus-
tom of slavery in the rest of the purchase was.
practically provided for by the sixteenth section
of the act of June 4, 1812, continuing the terri-
torial laws of Louisiana in the new territory of
Missouri. Again, when the new territory of
“Arkansaw" was created by the act of March 2,
1819, a similar provision continued in the new ter-
ritory the laws of Missouri, which recognized slav-
ery. The consequences of this long laches, this
omission of congress to prohibit the custom of
slavery, which had been recognized by French,
Spanish and territorial law, had now become ap-
parent in the application of Missouri for admission
as a slave state, and the tardy attempt in congress
to attack the evil raised a political storm. On the
one hand, since the new state had not the ability
to compel a recognition of its existence, its recog-
nition was clearly a matter of favor, on which
congress could impose such conditions as it should
consider needful. On the other, it was hardly just
that congress should permit the existence of even
an evil custom during its own responsibility for
government, and only undertake to abolish it at
the instant of giving the state professed self-gov-
ernment. The settlement of the case is elsewhere
given (see CoMPROMISEs, IV.); it resulted in the
abolition of slavery in the rest of the Louisiana.
purchase, above 36° 30' north latitude, and the
admission of Missouri as a slave state. As there
was no abolition of the custom of slavery in the
territory of Arkansas, we must consider the cus-
tom left still in existence there. On the applica-
tion of Arkansas for admission as a slave state in
1836, there were some symptoms of a renewal of
the Missouri struggle; but John Quincy Adams
and other anti-slavery men agreed that the admis-
sion of Arkansas was fairly nominated in the Mis-
souri bond, and the state was admitted. At the
same session an increase in the area of Missouri
(Śee that state) made a considerable addition to the
slave soil of the United States. Here the exten-
sion of slavery stopped, with the exception of the
admission of Florida and Texas as slave states in
1845. (See ANNExATIONs, III.) The area of Texas.
had been free soil under the decree of Guerrero,
the Mexican dictator, in 1829, afterward ratified
by the Mexican congress; and slavery is not rec-
ognized in the constitution of the Mexican state
of Coahuila and Texas, or in the provisional Texas.
constitutions of 1833 and 1835. But American set-
tlers had brought their slaves with them, and fairly
introduced the custom of slavery; and the consti-
tution of 1836 formally declared all persons of
color slaves for life, if they had been in that con-
dition before their emigration to Texas, and were
then held in bondage. This, though the state was
not in the Union as yet, was the only instance of
the professed establishment of slavery by the or-
ganic law of an American state, unless we are to
take the Massachusetts code of 1641 as the first.
The basis of the system is clearly expressed in a.
SLAVERY.
737
section of the Kentucky constitution of 1850, as
follows: “The right of property is before and
higher than any constitutional sanction; and the
right of the owner of a slave to such slave and its
increase is the same and as inviolable as the right
of the owner of any property whatever.” It was
no more necessary, then, to declare a constitu-
tional right of property in the case of slaves than
in the case of horses: in both cases the legisla-
ture was to accept and defend the right without
Question. A slave state was regularly declared
such, at its admission, only by the provision for-
bidding the legislature to emancipate slaves with-
out consent of owners, or to forbid the domestic
slave trade. — As slavery reached the limits of its
state extension in 1845, it only remains necessary
to recur to its attacks upon the territories. Here
the customary basis of slavery makes manifest the
weakness of the claims for its extension after
1845. It is one thing to acknowledge the validity
of a recognized and unopposed territorial custom
in Louisiana, Missouri and Arkansas: it is a very
different thing to admit, as pro-slavery advocates
required, that the custom could not be abolished
by statute, or prohibited where it did not exist.
Nevertheless, in this respect, the compromise of
1850 (see CoMPROMISEs, W.) gave the slave states
all they then asked. It refrained from prohibit-
ing the custom, and gave the territorial legislature
a general right of legislation, subject, of course,
to the veto power of congress. But this last was
now a meaningless form : it was impossible to ob-
tain the passage of an act by congress and the
president, annulling a territorial law recognizing
slavery. Congress practically gave loose reins to
the territorial legislatures, and they took advan-
tage of it. New Mexico (then including Arizona)
passed an act in 1851 recognizing peonage, or white
slavery, and another in 1859 recognizing negro
slavery; and Utah (then including Nevada) passed
an act in 1852 maintaining the right of slavehold-
ing immigrants to the services of their slaves.
None of these acts was annulled until 1862. (See
WILMOT PROVISO.) The Kansas-Nebraska bill
(see that title) in 1854 went a step further. It
took off the Missouri prohibition of 1820, and al-
lowed the introduction of the custom into all the
territories. It is at least doubtful, leaving out the
good faith of the repeal, whether a custom could
properly be introduced in that way; but the cli-
max of doubtfulness was reached when the Kan-
sas struggle showed that the custom had no chance
of practical introduction in that territory. The
pro-slavery claim (see DRED SCOTT CASE; DEMO-
CRATIC PARTY, W.; COMPROMISES, WI.) was then
advanced that both congress and the territorial
legislatures were bound to defend slavery in the
territories. If negro slavery was based on cus-
tom, and not on organic law, this claim was cer-
tainly a novelty in jurisprudence. We can easily
understand the recognition or the prohibition of
a custom by statute, but the establishment of a
custom by statute is beyond conception. Yet this
is the sum of the southern demand, when divested
166 VOL. III. — 47
of verbiage and reduced to its real essence; and
Secession was based on the refusal of the demand.
—For the political influence of slavery, see DEM-
OCRATIC PARTY, WHIG PARTY, AMERICAN PARTY,
REPUBLICAN PARTY. For the extinction of the
System, see ABOLITION, EMANCIPATION PROCLA-
MATION. — See, in general, Williams’ History of
the Negro Race ; Wilson’s Slave Power in Amer-
*ca; Hildreth’s United States; von Holst’s United
States; Kapp's Geschächte der Sklaverei; 1 Draper's
History of the Civil War ; Jay's Miscellaneous
Writings on Slavery; Cobb's Historical Sketch of
Slavery; Goodell's Slavery and Anti-Slavery; Nott's
Slavery and the Remedy, Weston’s Progress of
Slavery, and, on behalf of slavery, The Pro-Slav-
ery Argument, including Hammond’s Letters on
Slavery, and Dew's Review of the Virginia Debate
of 1832; Adams' South Side View of Slavery; Fitz-
hugh’s Sociology for the South, and Sawyer's
Southern Institutions. – (I.) 3 Bancroft’s United
States, 415 ; Hildreth's Despotism in America :
Hurd's Law of Freedom and Bondage, H. Sher-
man's Slavery in the United States; Stroud’s Laws
of Slavery; Goodell’s American Slave Code; Poore's
Federal and State Constitutions; authorities under
the states named, particularly Moore's Slavery in
Massachusetts; Ambler's (Chancery) Reports, 76;
11 State Trials, 340, and Lofft's (K. B.) Reports, 1
(Sommersett case); Livermore's Historical Research
on Negroes ; 5 Elliot's Debates, 392 ; Jefferson's
Motes on Virginia (edit. 1800), 164; 1 Bishop's
History of American Manufactures, 355, 397;
Pitkin's Statistical View of American Commerce,
110; Cotton is Kºng (1855); Kettell's Southern
Wealth and Northern Profits, Turner's History of
Cottom, and the Cotton Gin (1857); Donnell’s History
of Cotton (1872); 3 von Holst's United States, 563;
5 Sumner's Works, 1, or Lester's Life of Summer,
311; Helper's Impending Crisis, Olmstead’s Cottom,
Jöngdom, Census Reports, 1850–70; King's The
Great South (1875); Haygood's The New South
(1880). —(II.) The general authorities; the first
seven authorities under preceding section; Hors-
manden’s New York, Negro Plot of 1741; Atlantic
Monthly, June, 1861 (Vesey), August, 1861 (Turn-
er); Giddings' Eviles of Florida. — (III.) Clark-
son’s History of the Slave Thrade, 52; Copley’s His-
tory of Slavery, 113; Andrews' Slavery and the Do-
mestic Slave Trade; Carey's The Slave Trade, Do-
mestic and Foreign; 1 Draper's History of the Civil
War, 418; Foote's Africa and the American Flag;
Continental Monthly, January, 1862 (Slave Trade
in New York); 2 Tucker's Blackstone, Appendia,
49; 1 Journals of Congress, 24; 1 Stat. at Large, 347
(act of March 22, 1794); 2 Stat. at Large, 70, 205,
426 (acts of May 10, 1800, Feb. 28, 1803, and
March 2, 1807); Quincy's Life of Quincy, 102; 3
Stat. at Large, 450, 533, 600 (acts of April 20, 1818,
March 3, 1819, and May 15, 1820); W. B. Law-
rence’s Visitation, and Search; Cleveland’s A. H.
Stephens in Public and Private, 647; Sprott’s For-
eign Slave Trade. —(IV.) The general authorities;
Cairnes’ The Slave Power ; 2 Olmstead's Cotton,
Kingdom, 192; Census Report, 1850. —(W.) 1 Stat.
738
SMITH.
at Large, 106, and 2 ib., 70, 235 (cessions by North
Carolina and Georgia); 4 Journals of Congress, 380
(ordinance of 1784); authorities under ORDINANCE
of 1787; Fisher's Law of the Territories; 2 Ben-
ton's Debates of Congress, 221, and 16 ib. (index un-
der Slavery); for the acts in regard to the states
and territories, see authorities under their names.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
SMITH, Adam. The name of Adam Smith
is the greatest in political economy. He has had
the singular fortune to stamp his impress inef-
faceably on the intellectual world as well as on the
world of facts. Adam Smith is not only the ac-
knowledged founder of economic science, but the
authority appealed to, and who inspired Sir Rob-
ert Peel and Huskisson, those dauntless ministers
of his ideas. His life, wholly devoted to study
and thought, passed away modestly and peace-
fully. The information we possess regarding
him is small. We shall endeavor more especially,
within the limited space allowed us, to bring into
relief the facts calculated to make known the
character of the man and to explain the works of
the thinker. — The little village of Kirkaldy, in
Fifeshire, in Scotland, had the honor of being the
birthplace of Adam Smith, who was born there,
on June 5, 1723. His father, who was comptrol-
ler of the customs, had died several months be-
fore Adam Smith was born. His mother watched
over his childhood, and she more than Once had
cause to fear for his life; for his constitution was
frail and sickly. When he was only three years
old, he was playing before his uncle's house, when
a band of gypsies passing by kidnaped him. The
alarm was given; his uncle gathered his friends
together, overtook the kidnapers in a neighbor-
ing wood, and rescued his nephew. — From the
school in Kirkaldy, in which he received his early
education, Adam Smith went, in 1737, to the uni-
versity of Glasgow. He there attended the lect-
ures on moral philosophy of the illustrious head
of the Scotch school, Hutcheson, whose teaching
made a decided impression upon the mind of
Adam Smith. He appreciated the solid and prac-
tical worth of it, and all his writings show that he
adopted its exalted spiritualism, its solid common
sense and its strong morality. He always retained
a filial feeling for Hutcheson, and never spoke of
him but with the expression of the sincerest ad-
miration and the deepest gratitude. — Intended
by his family for the church, Adam Smith was
admitted to Baliol college, at Oxford. The fu-
ture philosopher at first applied himself, with
marked preference, to the study of mathematics
and of the physical sciences. He knew not only
the theory of these sciences, but had devoted
much time to their history. These successive en-
deavors of the human intellect in the search of
truth had a charm which delighted his investi-
gating mind. From the sciences he passed to lit-
erature, and, after a stay of seven years, he read
with equal facility the Latin, Greek, French and
Italian poets. He frequently exercised himself in
tertained literary societies.
translating from the French, with a view to his
improvement in the art of writing. He regarded
this exercise as eminently calculated to perfect
one's style. — After completing his studies at Ox-
ford, he returned to Kirkaldy. Determined to
give up the ministry, he decided to live with his
mother, in the peace which she alone could bring
him, and to limit his ambition to the uncertain
hope of obtaining one of those modest offices to
which literary talent then led in Scotland. . In
1748 he began to put his projects into execution,
by opening at Edinburgh, where he came to es-
tablish himself, a public course of rhetoric and
belles lettres. These lectures attracted a large num-
ber of hearers, and in a short time gave him sub-
stantial fame; for in 1751 he was appointed to the
chair of logic in the university of Glasgow, and
the following year to that of moral philosophy,
left vacant by the death of Thomas Craigie, the
successor of Hutcheson. He filled this chair for
thirteen years, and always looked upon this period
of his life as the most useful to his fellow-men as
well as the happiest to himself. The brilliancy of
his reputation gathered around him a crowd of stu-
dents eager to hear him. The subjects of his course
became the fashionable study ; and his opinions
the principal object of the discussions which en-
Certain inflections of
the professor's voice even, and certain favorite
expressions of his, became matters of imitation.
The talents of Mr. Smith, said one of his hearers,
appeared nowhere to so great advantage as in the
exercise of his duties as professor. In delivering
his lectures he relied almost entirely upon his
readiness in extemporizing. His style, though
lacking, it is true, in grace, was clear, and free
from affectation, and as he was seen to be interested
in his subject, he never failed to interest his hear-
ers. Each discourse consisted commonly in dis-
tinct propositions, which he made it his study
successively to prove and explain. These propo-
sitions, stated in general terms, had often, from
the very extent of their subject, an appearance of
paradox. In his endeavors to develop them, it
was not unusual to see him at first appear as if
embarrassed and not thoroughly master of his
subject, and even speaking with a kind of hesita-
tion. But as he went on, the subject seemed to
grow before him; his manner became warm and
animated, and his expressions easy and flowing.
In delicate points susceptible of controversy, you
would have recognized without difficulty that he
secretly entertained the thought of some opposi-
tion to his opinions, and that he consequently felt
obliged to maintain them with the greater energy
and vehemence. The abundance and the variety
of his explanations and illustrations threw light
upon his subject, as he handled it. — He divided
his course into four parts; the first three included
natural theology and moral philosophy, and par-
ticularly the moral principles which relate to jus-
tice. In the first part of his course he examined
the various political regulations which are not
founded upon the principle of justice, but upon
SMITH.
739
that of expediency, and the object of which was
to increase the wealth, power and prosperity of
the state. From this point of view he considered
the political institutions relating to commerce, to
finance, and to ecclesiastical and military estab-
lishments. What he taught upon these various
“subjects forms the substance of the work since
published under the title “An Inquiry into the
Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations.”
"This exact evidence proves, that, since 1753, al-
though this part of his course was limited to the
consideration of economic legislation, Adam Smith
had formed an opinion on the fundamental ques-
tions of political economy. It is impossible to
determine wherein the opinions of the professor
of moral philosophy differed from those of the
author of the “Wealth of Nations,” since nothing
remains to us of his teaching but this indication
of one of his disciples. However, Adam Smith
only followed the example of his master whom he
, reverenced, in introducing the consideration of
economical order into his course of moral philos-
sophy, and it is perhaps to the single chapter of the
“Manual of Moral Philosophy’ of Hutcheson,
in which he treats of value, of exchange, etc.,
that we Owe the ‘‘Wealth of Nations.”— From
this period also his friendship with Hume, who
had just published the second part of his “Es-
says” (1752), dates. In the nine discourses on
political economy contained in this work, Hume,
in attacking the erroneous theories of the mercan-
tile system and of protective duties, determined
the true principles of the nature of wealth, the
profit of capital, and the solidarity of interests.
This friendship, precious to both of them, kept
up by their daily relations, to which Adam Smith
brought profound convictions and an ardent love
of humanity, and his friend a cold and jesting
skepticism, which took away nothing from the
sincerity of his affection, this friendship, which
is a eulogy for both of them in this age of irrita-
ble vanity and literary jealousies, lasted until the
end of Hume's life, and it is permissible to be-
lieve that the author of the “Essays * exercised
an influence over his friend favorable to the di-
rection of his thoughts toward political economy.
This we know certainly, that the principal mer-
chants of Edinburgh, then a very commercial
town, shared Smith's views in the matter of cus-
toms, and that he himself drew from their conver-
sation on the subject that knowledge of facts
which characterizes his great work. — Half a
century later, the most illustrious propagator of
his doctrines, J. B. Say, crossed over to Glasgow.
I wished to see, he wrote, the place which was
the cradle of sound doctrines in political econo-
my. I was conducted to a long, narrow room,
where everything still remained as in Smith's
time. An arm chair of old black eather towered
between two of the windows, and I confess that
I could not seat myself in it without very strong
emotion mingled with respect. It is my inmost
conviction that sound ideas of political econo-
my will change the face of the world; now, can a
man look coolly at the source of a great river ?
Remarkable coincidence At the same period
at which, in his Glasgow attic, Smith was utter-
ing his first principles on political economy; un-
der the chateau of Versailles, the same ideas
were germinating in the head of Quesnay, and
prompting his articles in the Encyclopédie (1756).
— It was after he had been for seven years pro-
fessor of moral philosophy at Glasgow, that Adam
Smith published his “Theory of the Moral Senti-
ments.” The fundamental principle of this theory
is, that the actions of others are the only source
of our moral perceptions. The judgments which
we pass as to the morality of our own acts, are
but a personal application of the judgments which
we pass on the acts of our fellow-men. It is this
moral approbation which Smith calls fellow-feeling.
In the first part of his book he explains how we
learn to judge of the conduct of others; in the
second, how, in applying this judgment to our-
selves, we rise to the idea of a duty to be per-
formed. “Smith is in the right,” well says M.
Cousin, “when he develops the charms of sympa-
thy, when he urges us to have ceaselessly before
our eyes the conditions upon which others sympa-
thize with us, and bestow upon us all that is sweet-
est to the human heart, to wit, the approbation
and good will of our fellow-men. Smith's mistake
is to have believed, or to have appeared to believe,
that fellow-feeling is itself the good. The two
differ in principle; and it is of consequence that
this difference should be made manifest, firstly,
for the truth’s sake, then for the sake of virtue
itself; for virtue is impaired at its very founda-
tion, if it pursues an end not its own; and it is all
over with virtue, if, when by reason of a going
astray of opinion, it comes to be wanting in fellow-
feeling, and it is no longer able to maintain itself
by its own power, and to be sufficient unto itself.”
For, indeed, sympathy or fellow-feeling, a noble
and entirely personal feeling, are only a result of
our organization; and Adam Smith, by assigning
it the first place as the source of human actions,
sacrificed to it the principle itself of which it is
only the sign, conscience itself, that rule which
subsists invariably and sovereignly obligatory
above the caprices of the imagination and of the
heart, and above the force of circumstances. –
Singular inconsistency of the spirit of system; it
is the philosopher of sympathy, the too exclusive
defender of the sentiments of benevolence and
commiseration, whom the opponents of political
economy have accused of selfishness and of im-
placable hardness to the misery of his fellow-men
If these blind traducers of economic doctrine did
not recall that the economist of Glasgow had writ-
ten and proved that those who feed, clothe and
lodge the entire body of the nation, should have
a large enough share in the product of their work
to be sufficiently fed, lodged and clothed, they
should at least have been careful that their attacks
were directed against the philosopher who had
made sympathy the only motive of our actions
and the law of duty. —Toward the end of 1763
74()
SMITH.
the wish to visit the continent, and the liberal
offers which were made him, determined Smith
to accompany the young duke of Buccleugh in
the travels which he contemplated undertaking.
He sent to the rector of the university of Glasgow
his resignation of the office he had filled for thir-
teen years. Universal regret was felt, and the uni-
versity recorded its thought upon the register, and
said that “the university could not refrain from
expressing its sincere regret at the removal of Dr.
Smith, whose distinguished virtues and amiable
qualities had won for him the esteem and affection
of his colleagues, and who had honored the uni-
versity by his genius and the extent of his knowl.
edge.
Moral Sentiments’ had won for him the esteem
of men of taste and letters all over Europe. His
happy talent of throwing light upon the most ab-
stract subjects, his assiduity in communicating
useful knowledge, and the exactness in discharg-
ing the duties of his position, which characterized
him as a professor, were for the young men in-
trusted to his care a source of enjoyment as well
as of sound instruction.”
Buccleugh embarked for the continent in March,
1764. After a stay of ten or twelve days at Paris,
they took up their residence at Toulouse, which
had just witnessed the execution of the unfortunate
Calus. They spent eighteen months here in the
society of the principal members of the parliament
of that city. From Toulouse they proceeded
toward Geneva, crossing by a circuitous route
through the southern provinces of France; after
a sojourn of two months in this city they returned
to Paris. . This was in December, 1765, and they
remained there until October of the following
year. — Smith had long been familiar with French
literature. He was acquainted with the works of
J. J. Rousseau, and from a letter of Hume's we
learn that he had read Helvetius’ l’Esprit, and
Voltaire's Comdide. Furnished with letters of in-
troduction from Hume, the Scotch philosopher
met with the most flattering reception from Alem-
bert, Helvetius, Marmontel and Madame Ricco-
boni. He was admitted to the society of the
Duchesse d’Anville, and became especially inti-
mate with a son of the Duc de La Rochefoucauld.
This noble and generous mind began later a trans-
lation of the “Theory of the Moral Sentiments,”
which he did not finish, and the grateful philoso-
pher, who had in his first edition associated the
name of the author of the Maasimes with that of
Mandeville, took care to drop from the second his
criticism on the grandfather of his friend. — The
physiocratic school was at this time in all the ardor
of the strife against the partisans of the mercantile
and restrictive system. It had been for several.
years in possession of the doctrine which made it
what it was; for in 1758 Quesnay had published
his Tableau Čconomique, printed at Versailles,
under the eye of the king. The very year in
which Smith left England, Le Trosne, then king's
advocate at Orleans, publicly professed the mas-
ter's principles in a discourse on the decadence of
His elegant and ingenious ‘Theory of the
Smith and the duke of
could be conjectured ?
the magistracy; and during his sojourn in Paris,
the Ephémérides du Citoyen, for the purpose of
opposing the principles of Quesnay, and the Jour-
mal de l'agriculture, du commerce et des finances, un-
der the direction of Dupont de Nemours, to defend
them, were established. At this same time one of
the most enlightened economists, Abeille, pub-
lished a pamphlet on exclusive privileges in mat-
ters of commerce, which was very favorably re-
ceived. Thus Smith was witness, during his stay
in Paris, of the contest of economical systems.
Unfortunately, no details of this period of his life,
so interesting in the history of science, have come
down to us. We learn from Dugald Stewart that.
he took pleasure in conversing with Turgot, and .
that he corresponded with Quesnay, but nothing:
further. Dupont de Nemours is more explicit,
and represents him as having been his condisciple:
at Quesnay’s. “Dupont de Nemours,” says J. B.
Say, “told me that he often met Adam Smith in
that society, perhaps the most respectable in Eu-,
rope, and that he was there regarded as a judi-
cious and simple man, but as one who had not
yet shown what he was capable of.” What is,
beyond all doubt, is the profound esteem which
Smith always preserved for the ingenious and
thoughtful founder of the physiocratic school. He
intended to dedicate his great work to him, and .
only the death of Quesnay (1774) prevented the
realization of this noble thought. It is certain
that Turgot conceived a high opinion of his abil-
ity, and Condorcet relates, that, after his retires.
ment from the ministry, lie kept up a corresponds
ence with Smith. These two great minds, the
beauty of whose characters vied with the loftiness.
of their intellect, were worthy to understand each
other, but there remains no trace of this inter-
change of letters. The papers left by Turgot have
revealed none ; those of Adam Smith were de--
stroyed before his death by his own order, and his,
most intimate friends never had any knowledge of:
this correspondence. —It is, nevertheless, difficult.
to suppose, that, during the nine months which he
spent in Paris, in society where economical topicss
were the order of the day, the conversation of so-
many men in whom he recognized great learning
and distinguished ability, and of whom he declared
that their doctrine approached the nearest to the
truth, should have been without influence on the
formation of his principles. But to what extent
it is impossible, in the absence of any written.
document, to determine. Must we infer, as have
some, from the solicitous and minute care taken
by Smith shortly before his death to have his.
manuscripts—among which were the lectures de-
livered at Glasgow on economic subjects—de-
stroyed, that he had an especial interest in leaving:
nothing from which the succession of his ideas.
This is a pure hypothesis,
as well as a most improbable one, and does noth-
ing but complicate a problem, the Solution of which,
it is impossible to give. — Back in England in
October, 1766, Smith returned to Kirkaldy, where,
he lived for ten years near his mother, and in the:
SMITH.
741
society of some of the friends of his childhood.
His friend Hume, then librarian of the faculty of
:-advocates at Edinburgh, strove several times, but
in vain, to draw him away from his solitude. “I
want to know what you have done,” Hume wrote
to Smith, in 1769, “and I intend to exact a strict
account from you of the use you are making of
your time in your retreat.” Four years later, he
. added: “I will not accept the excuse of your
health, which I regard only as a subterfuge in-
vented by indolence and love of solitude. In truth,
if you continue to listen to those two little evil ad-
"visers, you will end by breaking completely with
society, to the detriment of both the parties in-
terested.” — It was from this stubborn meditation
of six years that the great work came which was
to immortalize his name. The “Inquiry into the
Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations,”
which he had begun to write in 1771, and which
appeared in March, 1776, disclosed the secret of
his long retreat. A month afterward Hume con-
gratulated him in the following glowing terms:
“My dear Mr. Smith, your work has afforded me
the greatest pleasure; and in reading it, I emerged
from a state of painful anxiety. It is a work, the
expectation of which kept in such suspense your-
self, your friends and the public, that I trembled
to see it appear; but at last I am relieved. Not
that—reflecting how much attention this reading
exacts, and how little disposed the public is to
bestow such—I must not still distrust for some
time the first breath of popular favor; but there
are in it depth, solidity, subtle penetration, and a
multitude of curious facts: such merits should,
sooner or later, fix the attention of public opinion.
If you were here, at my fireside, I should contest
some of your principles. But this and a hundred
other things can be discussed only in conversation.
I hope that it will be soon, for the state of my
health is very bad, and will not admit of a very
long delay.” These sad presentiments were not
long in being realized. Four months later, Hume
was no more ; Smith felt his death keenly, and
has left us, in the touching account which he gave
of his friend's death, and in the merited eulogy of
his character, the trace of his bitter regrets. –
Hume simply anticipated the judgment of poster-
ity, which, in its admiration, has associated the
name of Smith with those of Grotius and Montes-
quieu. Smith indeed gave to economic science
the character of certitude, which these two great
men had impressed upon international law and po-
litical Science. He placed it upon a basis which the
progress of the human mind may perhaps enlarge,
but never displace. The great principle which
is the starting point of all economic phenomena,
he lays down in the beginning of his work:
'The annual labor of every nation is the fund which
. Originally supplies it with all the necessaries and
• conveniences of life which it annually consumes,
* and which consist always either in the immediate
produce of that labor or in what is purchased with
that produce of other nations. These words con-
tained a revolution in the order of economic ideas.
Breaking with the opinions generally received in
his own age, he at the same time separated himself
from the partisans of the mercantile system, who
made all wealth consist in the precious metals,
and from the physiocrates, who regarded the soil
as the only source of it. Instead of gold and silver,
and the fertility of the land, what does he place at
the summit of his science? Man, of whom labor
is the manifestation; man with his productive
powers, the potency of which is immeasurably in-
creased by the division of employments and the
accumulation of capital. The classes of producers
who had been regarded by the physiocrates as trib-
utaries of landed property, raised by him to the
rank in which their services class them in Society,
are henceforth respectable and useful by the same
title as the others. He invites all, under the rule
of the law of labor, to the exploitation of the ma-
terial world, to the enrichment of individuals and
nations, to the fusion of interests, and in Subject-
ing them to the same obligations toward the state,
he claims for them liberty in the choice of their
work, in the movement of capital and the circu-
lation of products. – In this framework, in the
order which he assigns to them in it, and in a
series of searching and concise arguments, his in-
genious and profound analyses of the division of
labor, the price of goods, the power of Saving and
the action of capital, credit, banks and duties,
range themselves. These different elements of
economic science, several of which had already
been successfully studied by Locke, Hume, Verri
and Turgot, had new light thrown on them by
Smith, a light which is diffused over all the parts
of the subject of which he treats. Everything is
treated with the supreme composure of superior
reason and immutable good sense, which, carried
thus far, amounts to genius. No contemporary
passion disturbed the serenity of his judgment.
The principles which he teaches are not a weapon
in his hand, but only the generalized expression
of facts conscientiously observed. One thing alone
inspired him with an indignation which he could
scarcely restrain; the spirit of monopoly.—No one
before Smith had shown with more clearness and
foresight the advantages of economic liberty, from
the point of view of the conciliation of individual
and general interest. But the honor of having
extolled the principle of liberty, and of having
established it upon its true basis, belongs to the
physiocratic school. Smith, in his “Wealth of
Nations,” faithful in this to the ideas which he
had indicated in his course of moral philosophy,
considers liberty as necessary to the complete
development of the productive forces, and justi-
fies it by economic usefulness and éapédiency.
Quesnay and Turgot demand it as a right, and
present it to us as the expression of justice. In
fact, liberty, from the economic point of view, is
a right, because it has its source in more freedom,
and ends in personal responsibility and positive
duties; it is just, because it alone is able to insure
to man the remuneration which is really due to
his efforts, and to the goods, as a Consequence, the
742
SMITH.
price which belongs to them. In the eyes of the
physiocrates, liberty is not only the most favorable
manner of making an equitable division of the
fruits of labor and the most powerful stimulant to
man’s activity, but the manifestation of his con-
science, the sign of his right, and the source of
his duties. Notwithstanding the deviations into
which they have allowed themselves to be drawn
by a vicious method rather than by an error of
principle, notwithstanding their adventurous in-
cursions into the domain of natural law, it will
be the everlasting honor of these worthy heirs to
the Cartesian tradition, to have given as a founda-
tion to political economy the grand principles of
property, liberty, and individual and collective re-
sponsibility, with which all economic questions
are necessarily connected. Smith regarded man
as a being exclusively productive; and just as in
his system of moral philosophy he did not rise to
the superior idea of the good, of which sympathy,
or fellow-feeling, is but the result, so in political
economy he did not ascend to the idea of the just,
that is to say, to the first data upon which the eco-
nomic life of man and of society rests. – The
fault has been found, and justly, with the “Wealth
of Nations,” of a lack of proper arrangement of
the various parts, which prevents the whole of the
doctrine from being clearly discerned from the
beginning : questions of the greatest importance
are often treated there incidentally and d propos of
questions which should have been presented only
as secondary ones. Thus the author’s ideas on the
price of things are intercalated in a dissertation on
the value of the precious metals during the last
four centuries; his notions on money in the chap-
ter on the treaty of commerce; his principles of
commercial liberty in the examination of the mer-
cantile system. But if this great work offends by
a lack of method, it none the less remains the finest
monument raised to political economy. What a
treasury of true ideas, of ingenious and profound
observations, does it not offer us! It is by draw-
ing inspiration from the thoughts of the master
that his successors have accomplished all the prog-
ress which has since marked the advance of eco-
nomic knowledge. It was by declaring themselves
as his disciples that Malthus, by his theory of pop-
ulation, J. B. Say, by that of outlets, and M.
Dunoyer, by his valuable studies on productive
services, enlarged the domain of science; and the
commercial policy of England, which will one day
be that of all nations, was inaugurated under his
auspices, and triumphed by the help of his argu-
ments. – Smith passed the two years which fol-
lowed the publication of the “Wealth of Nations”
in London, in the society of the most distinguished
men of England, and in frequent intercourse with
Gibbon, Burke and Pulteney. In 1778, having
been appointed, through the influence of the duke
of Buccleugh, commissioner of customs in Scot-
land, he returned to Edinburgh. It was in this
city that the last twelve years of his life glided
away. The leisure allowed him by the business
of his office was employed to a great extent in the
revision of his works, the successive editions of
which he superintended with great attention. He
had, it is said, the intention of publishing a crit-
ical examination of l’Esprit des lois. This study
was undoubtedly connected with a treatise on civil
and political law which he had undertaken to.
Write. The death of his mother, whom he lost in
1784, and, four years later, that of a cousin of
whom he was very fond, were the cause of a grief
from which he never wholly recovered. In 1787
the university of Glasgow conferred the title of
rector upon him, an honor which he appreciated
very highly. From that time his strength gradu-
ally failed. When he felt the first attack of the
painful malady which was to carry him to the
grave, he ordered all his papers to be destroyed.
“I intended to have done more,” said he to his
friends, “and there are materials in my papers.
which I might have turned to account; but that
is out of the question now.” His resolution with
regard to this had long been taken, as a letter ad-
dressed to Hume in 1773 shows. In the month of
July, 1790, after severe suffering, borne with cou-
rageous resignation, this great man was taken away
from Science and the world. — His character was.
at once affectionate and reserved, frank and lively,
and his habits of a simplicity from which he never
deviated at any period of his life. His generous.
and impetuous soul, under an outwardly cold ap-
pearance, rose to enthusiasm, when there was ques-
tion of the great interests of humanity. He spoke
little, and when he was forced into his intrench-
ments, his speech was embarrassed, and his expo-
sitions assumed, without his knowledge, a dog-
matic form which gave them the semblance of a
lesson. This manner of expressing himself was a
result of the habit contracted in his public courses.
on the Science, and not of pretension, which was .
far from his mind, for never was there any one-
whose modesty was more easily alarmed than his.
He was profoundly versed in the philosophic.
knowledge of the human heart and mind; but he
lacked penetration in his judgment of individuals.
The studious and retired life which he had led:
had familiarized him but little with the character
and passions of men. His memory was prodig-
ious, but very far from being a ready one. If
Adam Smith did not share the brilliant qualities:
which fell to the lot of several of his contempo-
raries, he at least had, in the highest degree, that
penetrating exactness and firmness of opinion
which are perhaps more useful to the progress of
the human mind, and which at the same time con- .
fer glory on their possessor.* M. MoR.JEAN.
* While he occupied his chair at Glasgow, Smith was in:
the habit of giving certain lectures on the elements of polit- .
ical economy, as it was understood in his time, i. e., upon
those artificial regulations and restraints of civil society
which statesmen conceive to be necessary or expedient. Here
he was accustomed to draw those inferences in favor of a
policy of freedom which he afterward expanded into his cel- .
ebrated work. Neither he, nor, indeed, any one else, had .
ever elaborated at this time the laws under which the pro-.
duction of wealth is effectually secured.—The modern science.
of political economy has been developed from a host of nega-.
SMUGGLING.
743
SMUGGLING. The offense of importing pro-
hibited articles, or of defrauding the revenue by the
introduction of articles into consumption, without
paying the duties chargeable upon them. It may
be committed indifferently either upon the excise
or customs revenue. -- Origin, and Prevention of
Smuggling. This crime, which occupies so prom-
inent a place in the criminal legislation of all mod-
ern states, is wholly the result of vicious commer-
cial and financial legislation. It is the fruit either
of prohibitions of importation, or of oppressively
high duties. It does not originate in any deprav-
ity inherent in man; but in the folly and ignorance
of legislators. A prohibition against importing a
commodity does not take away the taste for it;
and the imposition of a high duty on any article
investigation of farm accounts during the epoch referred to
by Smith. But, in fact, to be scientific, political economy
must be constantly inductive. Half, and more than half, of
the fallacies into which persons who have handled this sub-
ject have fallen, are the direct outcome of purely abstract
speculation. In consequence, though he was the progenitor
of the science, and necessarily left it incomplete, Smith is
far more frequently in the right than his critics are. Almost
every blemish in his work (some few inaccuracies of expres-
sion excepted, which arise from a somewhat loose use of
terms,) is due to his exaggerated sympathy with the economic
theories of his French friends and teachers. It is to this in-
fluence that we can trace his errors as to the nature and causes
of value, and whatever is defective in his exposition of rent.
Even here, however, he seems to me to be much more in the
right than Ricardo, who accounts for the origin of rent on
grounds which have absolutely no warrant in fact. His most
tive inductions. Statesmen, misled by the selfish misrepre-
sentations of reputed experts, have from time to time con-
trolled and misdirected trade in the fancied interests of trade.
They have attempted to be wiser than nature. They have
seen that order and government have been necessary to the
well-being of society, and that confusion and mischief are
the invariable result of uninstructed self-interest. But, for-
getting that the business of government is to check aggres-
sion only, and to secure every man a fair field for the exercise
of his own labor, they have unconsciously aided aggression,
curtailed liberty, and narrowed the field in which labor could
exercise itself. There is of course a border, for the occupa-
tion of which the advocates of liberty and control constantly
contend. The wisdom of government in the days of Adam
Smith, and frequently enough in our own time, is to extend
the area of government, and, with it, to assert the just con-
trol of an administration over the innocent acts of individu-
als. Such a line of action on the part of a government may
be adopted with the best possible intentions, as Smith shows
in the ninth chapter of his fourth book, where he sketches
the policy of Colbert. Such a policy found its earliest and
most complete refutation in the reasonings which are con-
tained in the ‘‘Wealth of Nations.” # * It has been Ob-
jected to Adam Smith and Hume, that they did not foresee
the French revolution, intimately as they were acquainted
with the state of France. But the objection is shallow. What
is called political prophecy is often mere guess work, which
no wise man will seriously indulge in. The easiest way in
which weak men think they can gain a reputation is by sin-
ister predictions of political events. No one can anticipate
the conservative forces of Society, no one can gather enough
information to make a safe induction as to the resistance
which may be made to change, or, indeed, as to the forces
which will compel change. But there is such a thing as po-
litical prescience. It is not difficult to discover the inevitable
consequences induced by certain kinds of political action.
This faculty Smith possessed in the highest degree, in a far
higher degree than Hume, whose sagacity and acuteness he
admired so much. Of this prescience his great work is the
most noteworthy illustration. No person has ever pointed
out with more exactness the effects of a mistaken commercial
policy, the invariable reaction from a course of legislation
which does not commend itself to the moral Sense of a na-
tion, and the mischievous consequences which ensue when a
public law gives its sanction to private selfishness. * * The
range of the subjects treated in Smith’s work is very wide.
Social history and the politics of commerce occupy his atten-
tion as much as mere abstract reasonings. His educational
theories have been generally accepted. His rules of taxation
are classical. His vindication of free trade is complete. His
criticism of the great company has been the basis of the latest
legislation on the Indian empire. His conception of the mu-
tual relations in which nations stand, is as comprehensive as
it is generous. It should not be forgotten that Smith did not
propose to himself the discovery of a scheme which should
make any one country wealthy or prosperous at the expense
of the rest of mankind, but how the wealth of nations should
be developed. He rose far above the peddling maxim, that
the gain of one people is the loss of another. Hence his
work is international, and has formed an effective protest
against those shams of a sordid self-interest which masks
itself under the name of patriotism. — Among economists,
Smith possesses the inductive mind in the highest degree.
His work not only displays a wealth of varied reading, but is
full of facts. Considering, too, how unexact were the statis-
tical data on which he could in his time rely, his sagacity is
remarkable. No example of this quality seems to me more
striking than his inference that the precarious occupants in
the ancient manor must have passed through a métayer ten-
ancy before they reached the independence of the fifteenth-
Century yeoman, as described by Fortescue. Such was actu-
ally the fact, as I have been able to discover from a very large
adverse critics have, however, united with his warmest ad-
mirers in his vindication of private liberty against the inter-
ference of government; that is, in his advocacy of what are
called free trade principles. To the modern reader, who rec-
ognizes the vast services which the merchants and manufact-
urers of Great Britain have done for such principles as Smith
advocated, the language which the author uses about the mer-
cantile classes seems singularly harsh and bitter. “The pas-
sionate confidence of interested falsehood "" ; the policy of
a “great empire" being guided by the policy of “shop-
keepers”; “impertinent badges of slavery, imposed by the
groundless jealousy of merchants and manufacturers ”; “il-
liberal and oppressive monopolies”; “the mean and malig-
nant expedients of the mercantile system,” and similarly
pungent comments on the machinations of the trading classes
a century ago, are expressions of active animosity against
interests which Smith must have thought hostile to the pub-
lic good. But, at that time, the leading merchants deserved
Jittle sympathy from any person who considered this public
good as the paramount object of economy and legislation.
Their intrigues had prevented the establishment of bonded
warehouses. The mercantile classes drove Walpole into the
war of the right of search. The real or reputed interests of
the same order precipitated and prolonged the seven-years
war. The costs of that war, and the sustentation of the East
India company, whose conquests had made it bankrupt, led
to the uprising of the American colonists, and the war of in-
dependence. The merchants who stimulated, and the nabobs
and planters who continued, these costly struggles, were no
doubt powerful in ‘Change alley. They were, moreover, ready
to make the highest biddings for rotten boroughs. But they
were detested by the people, and especially by those free-
holders in whom, as Smith thought, the strength and hope of
the nation resided. Macaulay has given, in a few words, a
statement of how public opinion estimated these people, in
his “Life of Lord Clive,” the greatest of the race. — The
most emergetic attack, however, which Smith made on any
institution of his time, was that on the East India Company.
To us the company is a thing of the past. In Smith's day it
was the most brilliant phenomenon that the world had ever
witnessed. A very few years had created the Indian empire;
had changed a few timid and servile traders into a force of
heroes, by whom successes had been achieved more amazing
than those of Cortez and Pizarro. In the face of this ex-
traordinary prestige, which affected the whole western world,
the author of the “Wealth of Nations” dissected the pre-
tensions of the great company, showed that it failed as a
trader, and failed as a ruler; and proved that its government
was mischievous to its subjects, and its monopoly a Wrong
upon the English people.— THOROLD ROGERS.
744
SMUGGINING.
occasions a universal desire to escape or evade
its payment. Hence the rise and occupation of
the smuggler. The risk of being detected in the
clandestine introduction of commodities under any
system of fiscal regulations may be always valued
at a certain average rate; and whenever the du-
ties exceed this rate, smuggling immediately takes
place. Now, there are plainly but two ways of
checking this practice : either the temptation to
smuggle must be diminished by lowering the du-
ties, or the difficulties in the way of smuggling
must be increased. The first is obviously the more
natural and efficient method of effecting the Ob-
ject in view; but the second has been most gen-
erally resorted to even in cases where the duties
were quite excessive. Governments have almost
uniformly consulted the persons employed in the
Collection of the revenue with respect to the best
mode of rendering taxes effectual; though it is
clear that the interests, prejudices and peculiar
habits of such persons utterly disqualify them
from forming a sound opinion on such a subject.
They can not recommend a reduction of duties as
a means of repressing smuggling and increasing
revenue, without acknowledging their own inca-
pacity to detect and defeat illicit practices; and
the result has been, that, instead of ascribing the
prevalence of smuggling to its true causes, the
officers of customs and excise have almost uni-
versally ascribed it to some defect in the laws, or
in the mode of administering them, and have pro-
posed repressing it by new regulations, and by in-
creasing the number and severity of the penalties
affecting the smuggler.
pected, these attempts have, in the great majority
of cases, proved signally unsuccessful. And it
has been invariably found, that no vigilance on
the part of the revenue officers, and no severity
of punishment, can prevent the Smuggling of
such commodities as are either prohibited or
loaded with oppressive duties. The Smuggler is
generally a popular character; and whatever the
law may declare on the subject, it is ludicrous to
expect that the bulk of society should ever be
brought to think that those who furnish them
with cheap brandy, geneva, tobacco, etc., are guil-
ty of any very heinous offense. “To pretend,”
says Adam Smith, “to have any scruple about
buying smuggled goods, though a manifest en-
couragement to the violation of the revenue laws,
and to the perjury which almost always attends it,
would, in most countries, be regarded as one of
those pedantic pieces of hypocrisy, which, instead
of gaining credit with anybody, serve only to ex-
pose the person who affects to practice them to the
suspicion of being a greater knave than most of his
neighbors. By this indulgence of the public the
smuggler is often encouraged to continue a trade
which he is thus taught to consider as, in some
measure, innocent; and when the severity of the
revenue laws is ready to fall upon him, he is fre-
quently disposed to defend with violence what he
has been accustomed to regard as his just property;
and, from being at first rather imprudent than
As might have been ex-
criminal, lie at last too often becomes one of
the most determined violaters of the laws of so-
ciety.” (“Wealth of Nations,” p. 406.). To cre-
ate by means of high duties an overwhelming
temptation to indulge in crime, and then to punish
men for indulging in it, is a proceeding completely
subversive of every principle of justice. It re-
volts the natural feelings of the people; and
teaches them to feel an interest in the worst char-
acters—for such smugglers generally are—to es-
pouse their cause, and avenge their wrongs. – A
punishment which is not proportioned to the of.
fense, and which does not carry the sanction of
public opinion along with it, can never be pro-
ductive of any good effect. The true way to put
down smuggling is to render it unprofitable; to
diminish the temptation to engage in it; and this
is not to be done by surrounding the coasts with
cordons of troops, by the multiplication of oaths
and penalties, and making the country the theatre
of ferocious and bloody contests in the field, and
of perjury and chicanery in the courts of law;
but by repealing prohibitions, and reducing duties,
so that their collection may be enforced with a
moderate degree of vigilance; and that the for-
feiture of the article may be a sufficient penalty
upon the smuggler. It is in this way, and in
this way only, that we must seek for an effectual
check to illicit trafficking. Whenever the profits
of the fair trader become nearly equal to those of
the smuggler, the latter is forced to abandon his
hazardous profession. But so long as prohibitions
or oppressively high duties are kept up, or, which
is in fact the same thing, so long as high bounties are
held out to encourage the adventurous, the needy
and the profligate to enter on this career, we may
be assured that armies of excise and customs offi-
cers, backed by the utmost severity of the revenue
laws, will be insufficient to hinder them. — It
would be useless to enter in this place into any
lengthened details to prove the truth of these
statements. Unluckily, the entire financial and
commercial history of all countries abounds with
instances in point, many of which must be famil-
iar to every reader. The prohibition of foreign
products, or the imposition of heavy duties on
foreign or native products, does not take away
the taste for them. On the contrary, it would
seem as if the desire to obtain prohibited or over-
taxed articles acquired new strength from the ob-
stacles opposed to its gratification.
Per damna, per caedes, ab ipso
Ducit opes animumque ferro.
The prohibition of foreign silks which existed
in England previously to 1826 did not hinder their
importation in immense quantities. The vigi-
lance and integrity of the custom house officers
were no match for the ingenuity, daring and dou-
geſtrs of the smugglers. And at the very moment
when the most strenuous efforts were made to
effect their exclusion, the silks of France and
Hindostan were openly displayed in Almack's,
in the drawing rooms of St. James', and in the
SOCIAEISM AND SOCIALISTS.
745
house of commons, in mockery of the impotent
legislation by which it was attempted to shut
them out. There is, in truth, great room for
doubting whether the substitution of an ad valo-
rem duty for the whole system of prohibition was
: at first productive of any material increase in
the imports of foreign silks. The repeal of the
prohibition was a most judicious measure; but
the duty being unfortunately fixed at too high a
limit, it gave an overwhelming stimulus to smug-
gling. Before the abolition of the duty on silks,
‘the expense of their clandestine importation from
France was roughly estimated at about 15 per
cent. ad Valorem; and as the duty on silks, down
: to 1845, was double that amount, or 30 per cent.,
we need not wonder that it was estimated, by
well-informed parties, that from a third to a half
Of the total quantity of imported silks escaped the
duty. Indeed, every one is aware that their clan-
destine importation was carried on, to a great ex-
tent, within the port of London, and in the cus-
tom house itself, by the corruption and connivance
of the officers. And this, we may be assured, was
not a solitary instance. The corruption of the
officers, is, in truth, an inevitable consequence of
the over-tax system. — The enormous duties that
were imposed in England previously to 1823 on
: home-made Scotch and Irish spirits, produced an
extent of Smuggling and demoralization of which
it is not easy for those who have not attended to
Such matters to form an idea. At present, how-
“ever, the duties in that country on tobacco, brandy
..and hollands, but especially the first, are the great
sincentives to smuggling. The preventive water-
guard is kept at a great expense for little other
purpose than to hinder the clandestine importa-
tion of these articles. But notwithstanding its
efforts, considerable quantities of them find their
way into the country without being subjected to
any duty. And how should it be otherwise? The
price of tobacco in the contiguous continental
ports may, on an average, be taken at from 8d. to
10d. per lb.; and as the duty on tobacco is from
: 8s. 6d. to 5s. per lb., need we be surprised to learn,
that, allowing for the expenses of smuggling, if
one cargo out of three be safely landed, the busi-
ness is as profitable as it is adventurous and excit-
ing? “But it is not so much by the introduction
of tobacco from abroad as by its admixture or
adulteration with other articles, that the contra-
band dealers endeavor to defeat the duty.” It
may, however, be right to state that it must not
# be imagined that the mere diminution of an op-
pressive duty on any article will put down the
Smuggling to which the duty may have given rise.
The diminution may not be sufficiently great; and
if so, it will have but little influence. — These
considerations show the degree of weight which
should be attached to the statements of those who
- endeavor to excuse or apologize for exorbitant du-
ties by showing that they have sometimes been re-
duced without any material increase taking place
sin the consumption of the articles on which they
z are laid, or any material diminution of smug-
gling. In exemplification of this it has been stated
that though the duty on tobacco was reduced in
England in 1825 from 4s. to 3s. per lb., the con-
Sumption was not increased in anything like the
same proportion; and that, notwithstanding the
rapid growth of population, a period of ten years
elapsed before the tobacco revenue rose to its
former level. But no one acquainted with the
facts could have anticipated any other result.
Taking the cost of tobacco on an average at 6d.
per lb. (which is beyond the mark), the duty pre-
viously to and since the reduction has been re-
spectively 800 and 600 per cent. ad valorem. And
it is needless to say that the least of these duties
holds out an overwhelming temptation to smug-
gling and fraud. The truth is, that the reduction
of duty in 1825 was an ill-advised measure; and
there is perhaps no great reason to conclude that
the further reduction of the present duty of 3s.
per lb. to 2s. would be much wiser, or that, while
it sacrificed revenue, it would be at all sufficient
to suppress illicit practices. It is idle, therefore,
by referring to instances of this sort, to endeavor
to make it be believed that an adequate diminu-
tion of taxation is not followed by a correspond-
ing increase of consumption. Had the duty on
coffee, instead of being reduced in England in
1808 from 1s. 8d. per lb. to 7d., been reduced to
only 1s. 3d. (the proportion in which the tobacco
duty was reduced), the effect would have been all
but imperceptible ; and instead of the consump-
tion being immediately increased from about
1,000,000 lbs. to 9,000,000 lbs., the presumption
is, it would not have been increased to 1,500,000
lbs. In taxation, as in everything else, unless the
means be adequate to the desired ends the result
will be nothing. If you offer a premium of eight
to one on smuggling, do you imagine you will
abate the nuisance you have called into existence
by reducing the premium to six to one or four to
one? It will be found in every case in which a
reduction of duty is not followed by a more than
corresponding increase of consumption, that the
article continues to be overtaxed, or that the duty
left upon it either exceeds the cost of smuggling
or places it beyond the reach of those who might
otherwise become its consumers. We are bold to
say that no instance can be found in the financial
history of any country of an adequate reduction
of the duty on an over-taxed article not being fol-
lowed by a cessation of smuggling and a great in-
crease of consumption. J. R. M“CULLOCH.
SOCIALISM AND SOCIALISTS. It is with
these words as with all others which express, at a
given date, a definite situation, but which, in the
long run, either because facts or the state of men's
minds has changed, are transformed, and no lon-
ger convey their original meaning.” Hence, to
* “The assailants of the principle of individual property,”
says John Stuart Mill (“Principles,” book ii., § 2), “may be
divided into two classes: those whose scheme implies abso-
lute equality in the distribution of the physical means of life
and enjoyment, and those who admit inequality, but grounded
746
SOCIALISM AND SOCIALISTS.
fix their meaning, at their true date, is essential.
An analysis of such meaning may be reduced to
this: In every human society, whether it advances
or retrogrades, modifications more or less pro-
found are always going on, modifications which
are more or less perceptible, and which, with or
without the knowledge of such society, act upon
its economy. Apparently such a society remains
the same ; but in reality it is daily affected by
changes of which it becomes entirely conscious on-
ly after time has fixed them in the habits and cus-
toms of the people, and marked them by its sanc-
tion. This is the course of civilizations which
are being perfected or which are declining. The
honor of a generation is to add something to the
inheritance it has received, and to transmit it im-
proved to the generation which comes after it. To
employ what has been acquired as an instrument
of new acquisition, to advance from the verified
to the unknown: such is the idea of progress as it
presents itself to well-ordered minds. But such
is not the idea of the socialists. In their eyes
the situation given is a false one, and the process
too simple. Reforms in detail do not seem to
them worthy of attention. They have plans of
their own, the first condition of which is to make
a tabula rasa of everything that exists, to cast
aside existing laws, manners, customs, and all the
guarantees of person and property. It seems to
them that we have lived thus far under the em-
pire of a misconception which it is urgent should
cease ; our globe, according to them, is an antic-
ipated hell, and our civilization a coarse outline
only. What is the remedy ? There is only one
—to try the treatment of which the socialists hold
the secret. That treatment varies according to
the sect. There are socialists with mild reme-
dies, and socialists with violent remedies: the only
difficulty is in the choice. But with all their dif-
ferences, there is one point on which they agree
— the formal condemnation of human Societies as
they are at present constituted, and the necessity
of erecting on their ruins an order of things more
conformable to the instincts of man and to his
destiny here below. In exchange for our real
world, the socialists offer us worlds of the fancy.
on some principle or supposed principle of justice or general
expediency, and not like so many of the existing social in-
equalities, dependent on accident alone. At the head of the
first class, as the earliest of those belonging to the present
generation, must be placed Mr. Owen and his followers.
M. Louis Blanc and M. Cabet have more recently become
conspicuous as apostles of similar doctrines (though the for-
mer advocates equality of distribution only as a transition to a
still higher standard of justice, that all should work accord-
ing to their capacity, and receive according to their wants). —
The characteristic name for this economical system is “com-
munism,” a word of continental origin; only of late introduced
into this country. The word ‘socialism,” which originated
among the English economists, and was assumed by them as
a name to designate their own doctrine, is now, on the con-
tinent, employed in a larger sense; not necessarily implying
communism, or the entire abolition of private property, but
applicable to any system which requires that the land and
the instruments of production should be the property, not
of individuals, but of communities, or associations, or of the
government.”—It is in this latter sense, evidently, that M.
Reybaud uses the word “socialism" in this article.—ED.
This is their distinguishing trait, and one which
makes of them a family apart. — In this pursuit.
they have had so many precursors that to enumer-
ate them would be to write the history of the ad-
ventures of the human mind. At one time, we
have philosophers engaging in that chase in soli-
tary speculations; and at another, sects, trying in
abortive essays to realize their dreams; now, a
whole population stakes in that chase its existence.
and repose; here, we find the idea of mysticism
prevailing, and curbing instinct to the profit of a
system; there, instinct gets the upper hand and
breaks therein which all regular government puts.
on it: everywhere we witness an effort to destroy
the old mould, and to obtain a new one. Revolts.
and factions beget one another while copying one:
another. First we find Plato with the most cap-
tious of models. He invented an imaginary com-
munity, which Sir Thomas More reproduced in
his Utopia. In both cases, goods were to be in
common, and the fruits of labor distributed by
means of arbitrary combinations. Campanella.
went farther. With Plato he admits promiscuity;.
but, bolder than Plato, he regulates its exercise.
Morelli, not content with recommending a com-
munity, would force it on men. He establishes.
for labor a species of obligatory conscription, and
condemns to perpetual imprisonment the partisans.
of property, under pretext of their dangerous de-
mentia. Baboeuf treats them as conspirators, and
spares them as little as Morelli. For the sake
of good example, he expels them from among
men when he does not deliver them to the execu-
tioner. Willingly or by force, he would have all
distinctions of class and all appropriation of goods.
disappear. He would tolerate only one costume,
one table, one ordinary. The great centres of
population trouble him, and, with a stroke of his
pen, he suppresses them. Luxury has its birth in
cities, and of luxury he will have nothing. Homes.
should be as uniform as possible, in order not to ex-
cite jealousy by comparison. There should be
like care for the education of all citizens. The
state takes possession of them, and abandons them
only at death. It makes laborers and workmen
out of them. Useful services, and not acts which
serve for pleasure, are demanded of them. What
is not communicable to all, he says, in his imper-
ative language, must be severely retrenched. The
science of government, he says, is to suppress.
whatever may act as an obstacle, and the best ré-
gime is that which is so contrived as to meet with
no opposers. It is not difficult to see what ad-
vance the idea of the community had now made.
With Plato it was only an idyl ; with Baboeuf it
is a yoke of iron ; from an ingenuous dream and
one far from being ironical, we pass to the drear-
iest and most degrading servitude : Plato confines.
himself to advice, Baboeuf would act with living
force; Plato admits categories, Baboeuf endures.
none of any kind; he takes the lowest level, and
wishes to reduce everything to it. This contrast.
is intelligible: Plato remains in the imaginary,
Baboeuf enters the real ; with a view to the end,
SOCIALISM AND SOCIALISTS.
747
he thinks of the means, and fearing defeat, deter-
mines on the most energetic means. – Examples
of a common régime were no more wanting in
antiquity than the speculations in which such a
common régime was offered in perspective. The
conventual organization, with its exploitation of
mortmain and vows of renunciation, was nothing
else. But those who submitted to it were out of
the world, not in the world; they lived for heaven
rather than for the earth. As much may be said
of the Essenes, whose life was almost that of
monks. The Moravians preserve more affinity
with regular society; their community is neither
as narrow nor as exclusive as that of the Jewish
sect; they admit of marriage and of the inter-
mingling of the sexes, while the Essenes preserved
the strictest celibacy ; they recognize private prop-
erty side by side with collective labor, while the
Essenes had nothing of their own. In the Para-
guay missions, likewise, the community partook
of a mixed character ; each Indian had his field
and his flock; only a separate domain, the Posses-
sion of God, was reserved for cultivation in com-
mon, and its produce was intended to meet the ex-
penses for the support of the infirm, for the pur-
poses of worship, and the payment of the tribute
sent each year to the king of Spain. Moreover, in
these various modes of grouping, there was nei-
ther revolt nor formal protest. They were combi-
nations suggested at one time by a particular creed,
at another by expediency of a local character. In
the case of the Indians of Paraguay, their com-
munity was a beginning of civilization; in that of
the Moravians and Essenes, as well as in that of
the monks and anchorites, it was a means of sanc-
tification. Under these conditions all government
is easy; its point of departure is the spirit of disci-
pline and the suppression of the instincts. From
these partial communities to a general community
the distance is a great one—the distance between
the exception and the rule, between a special state
of men’s minds and the dispositions which animate
the other members of the human family. Such
cases must be noted, but there is no conclusion to
be drawn from them. — The community of goods
has had less offensive apostles, like the Jacques
in France and the Lollards in England. The for-
mer did not confine their pretensions within the
walls of a monastery or the limits of a nation’s
territory. They had pretensions to empire, and
they disguised projects of partition and Spoliation
under the mask of political rights. Neither did
the Anabaptists admit that they entertained sim-
ilar pretensions. Their religious schism was on-
ly a pretext to lead the populace to an assault
on property. What a sad memory the Anabap-
tists have left! They filled with their crimes and
their names two full centuries of the history
of Germany. Münzer was their first corypheus;
he invited the poor to the partition of the spoils
of the rich ; Mathias, in turn, ordered the sack-
ing of the houses of the bourgeoisie ; John of
Leyden proclaimed polygamy a law of the state,
and was the first to conform to that law by marry-
this one is as clear as it is powerful.
ing seventeen women. The execution of such
bandits did not suffice to extirpate their sect, and
after they had disappeared, the ruins with which,
the land was strewn showed what is engendered,
in popular interpretation, by the utopia of the
community, and what vestiges it leaves after it.
Socialism has no more formidable formula; and,
in the end, it is the only one which is susceptible
of application. All other formulae escape the in-
telligence of the crowd because of their subtlety;
To take from
those who have, in order to give to those who have
not, is a concise and intelligible proposition; to:
reduce all positions and fortunes to a level, is one
not less so. Both find in the heart of man a bad
passion, which answers to them. When they are
heard, passion leaves the vague to enter the world
of realities; it knows what it wants, and whither
it goes. There is no longer a mere anathema fall-
ing in a vacuum, but a campaign to be undertaken
against society, with the booty in prospect. — We,
have now cast a rapid glance at the men and the
sects which, in the past, may be considered as the
equivalents of socialism and socialists. With
those who in our day are so named, the spirit is
the same; only their procedure is different.* The
* Among the forms of socialism, German writers on polit-
ical economy mention what they call Staatssozialismus, or
state socialism, understanding by the term “that system
which would have economic relations regulated as far as,
possible by the state, and which would substitute state help.
for self-help.” Prince Bismarck has shown a decided lean-
ing to this form of socialism. The French have the expres-
sion socialisme d’état, which is the exact equivalent of Staats-
SO2ialismºus, or state socialism. That such a form of social-
ism has been finding favor with large classes of the people:
in recent times can not be doubted. Hence it has been not
inappropriately styled by Professor Fawcett, “modern social-
ism;” and much of what he says on its growth and probable.
consequences in certain countries of Europe is true as to its.
growth and consequences in the United States, but of course.
not to the same extent as in Europe. He writes: “It is:
each day becoming more evident that in every European
country an increasing number of the laboring population are
giving an enthusiastic adherence to certain social and eco-
nomic principles, which, if carried into effect, will introduce
even more fundamental changes than those brought about
by the first French revolution. Never, perhaps, was there a
time when it was more important to dispassionately consider
the ideas, the wants and the aspirations of the workmen who
are engaged in this movement, which may be described un-
der the general title of modern socialism. Without such,
dispassionate consideration, there is certain to arise, instead.
of a kindly and intelligent sympathy, the rancorous enmity
of bitter class prejudice. Those who are prepared to show.
this sympathy may have some chance of directing to pur-
poses of inestimable good this new movement, which, if met
with blind and unreasoning opposition, will at last gradually
gathcr so much strength as to pass beyond control ; Europe.
may then find herself involved in a terrible war of classes.
It has been repeatedly shown that the friends of revolution-
ary changes derive their motive power from the bigoted
opponents of progress, and from the stubborn upholders of
unwise laws and unjust privileges. It might as well be Sup-
posed that the railway engine would move if it were deprived
of steam, that wheat could grow without soil, or that man,
could live without food, as to imagine that a revolutionary-
propagandism could be maintained if it were not kept alive.
by the recollection of some wrong inflicted, and by the con-
tinuance of some grievance unredressed. It is perfectly vain
to expect that there will not be threatenings of coming con-
vulsions so long as the social and economic condition of
great masses of the people remains what it is at the present,
".748
SOCIALISM AND SOCIALISTS.
feeling of bitterness against established civiliza-
tions is at least as great, and if there be not as
much violence in act, it is because moral force has
resisted in time. We must add, that, in the case
of almost all, the visions of the brain have been
tempered by upright intentions. This is true of
time. England is constantly being glorified as the wealthiest
of all Inations. From every platform in the kingdom orators
“delight to parade the well-known statistics about our vast
and growing commerce.
board of trade shows an augmentation of exports and im-
,ports. In spite, however, of all these evidences of accumulat-
ing wealth, the majority of our people have a severe struggle
'for existence, and no inconsiderable minority live in abject
misery and in degrading poverty. The more wealthy the na-
|tion is admitted to be, the more perilous does it become, and
...the more ominous of future trouble, that one out of twenty
of the nation should be a pauper; that to a great proportion
of our laboring classes a life of incessant toil yields no other
resultithan an old age of dependent mendicancy; that mill-
ions are so entirely uneducated as to be cut off from every
intellectual enjoyment; that in many rural districts horses
are stabled far more comfortably than laborers are housed;
and that in our largest and wealthiest cities the poor are so
crowded and huddled together, that in a countless number
of instances all the members of a family herd together in a
single room. Can any one who reflects on such facts be sur-
prised that a wide-spread spirit of unrest and dissatisfaction
‘is abroad? Ought it not to be regarded as almost incredible
that a social structure resting on such a basis should have
stood so long? But it may be said that if things are not as
..rapidly improving as can be desired, they are certainly not
getting worse. Why then, it is urged, should there be this
new outburst of discontent? No new laws vexatious to the
industrial classes have been imposed; many, on the con-
trary, have been repealed; taxation is not more burdensome,
and duties on many of the necessaries of life which added
-greatly to their cost have been remitted. May it not, there-
fore, be fairly concluded that things will gradually improve;
...that the present dissatisfaction is unreasonable, and that the
demands of those who are so discontented with society as it
is now constituted should be simply met by undeviating re-
sistance? As there is only too much reason to fear that many
will assume this attitude of resistance, it is important to give
the most emphatic warning as to the consequences which
the adoption of such a policy may involve. As it is so fre-
quently supposed that the movement in favor of organic
Social and economic changes has no solid foundation in reason
, or in justice, and that it is rather a temporary aberration of
certain unsettled and mischievous people who love revolution
for revolution's sake, it becomes important, in the first in-
stance, to attempt to discover whether this is a true inter-
pretation of the sentiments now widely prevalent among the
industrial classes. – As previously remarked, it no doubt, at
first sight, appears somewhat difficult to account for the fact
that this desire for change should have grown up with the
repeal of many unjust laws, with the remission of many bur-
densome taxes, with a great stimulus in the productive in-
dustry of the country, and with the more wide-spread desire
among those who are in comfortable circumstances to be
good, kind and charitable to the poor. But does not the fact
that all these circumstances have been in operation without
producing any more marked effect upon the general well-
being of the people, Suggest an explanation of the phenome-
mon which we are seeking to elucidate? Scarcely any other
result can be expected than that there should arise a feeling
of angry disappointment, unreasoning distrust and unjust
suspicion when favorable agencies like those just mentioned
are contrasted with such facts as those previously enumer-
.ated, which are only too truly typical of the social and eco-
nomic condition of the country. For a long time the people
were led to believe that the elevation of their class would be
:Secured by bringing into operation various favorable mate-
rial agencies. At one period it was supposed that the appli-
•cation of steam to manufactures, and the improvement of
locomotion by the introduction of railways, would so stimu-
late production as to bring to the laborer an age of golden
plenty. At another time it was confidently stated that by
Each quarterly return from the
Robert Owen, who was the first to open the way.
In Owen, there were two men, the man of fact
and the man of an idea; the one superior, the
other mediocre. A manufacturer in New York,
he had the opportunity to found, aided by a be-
nevolence without limit and by the sole power of
the abolition of protection the markets of the world would be
thrown open to us, and the supplies of cheap food thus pro-
cured would yield an increased store of comfort to every
humble home. In one respect these predictions have been
fulfilled, in another respect they have been cruelly falsified.
Production has been stimulated beyond the expectations of
the most sanguine, and supplies of food have been obtained
from even the most distant countries in much greater quan-
tities than could have been anticipated. Still, however, so
far as the laborer is concerned, the age of golden plenty
seems as remote as ever, and in the humble homes of the
poor a not less constant war has to be waged against penury
and want. From the bitter-disappointment thus engendered,
there has not unnaturally arisen a feeling of deep distrust of
the fundamental principles on which society is based. A
wide-spread opinion has grown up that it is no use relying
upon the old remedies and the old nostrums. Resort must be
had to far more radical changes; the very foundations on
which our social system rests must be altered. This feeling
of unrest, this desire to do away with the existing order of
things, is sure to arise when the mass of the people become
dissatisfied with their condition. On many previous occa-
'sions they had more reason than now to attribute their mis-
fortunes to political causes. Unjust and vexatious taxation,
combined with a reckless expenditure of a profligate and
corrupt court, at length accumulated such misery upon the
French people that an irresistible movement arose to sweep
away every established institution. The first French revo-
lution ought not consequently to be regarded as an uprising
to substitute a republican for a monarchical form of govern-
ment. The people, driven to a frenzy of despair by physical
suffering, were not in a frame of mind calmly to reason upon
well-devised schemes of relief. They wished to see every-
thing changed, and they consequently waged an unrelenting
war with the existing state of things. Again, the revolution-
ary movement in 1848, although it caused the fall of so many
dynasties, was not so much a political as a social and eco-
nomic movement. The dissatisfaction which prevailed at
this period was not mainly due either to unjust laws or vex-
atious taxation. It was the manifestation of an intense desire
fundamentally to change the principles from which the vast
industrial system of the present time has been developed.
Competition and the separation of capital from labor may
be regarded as the most prominent characteristics of mod-
erm industry. It might, therefore, have been almost fore-
seen that these characteristics would be singled out for Special
reprobation, when the general condition of the industrial
classes became unsatisfactory, and the great mass of the
people in every country felt that they had to bear an undue
amount of suffering, the hardest toil yielding to them a most
inadequate share of comfort and enjoyment. There con-
sequently arose a determination to substitute for the indus-
trial system then existing one from which not only competi-
tion would be absent, but one in which capital and labor
would be united, instead of being separated by the rivalry of
hostile interests. The industrial ideas which were thus
sought to be carried into practical effect may be deseribed
under the general name of socialism or communism. The
very mention of these words will no doubt to many minds
suggest much that is ominous of danger, and much which
is opposed to the well-being of society. Prejudice, however
unfounded, often spreads so fast that it becomes most for-
midable to combat. To many, socialism and communism
are supposed to be synonymous with confiscation and Spolia-
tion. A socialist exists vaguely in the minds of the comfort-
able classes as a sort of abandoned creature who wishes to
live by robbing other people of their property, and who de-
sires to see general pillage introduced. In the présent state
of mankind, socialism would do nothing to increase the well-
being of the people, and the socialistic schemes which have
been propounded would inevitably end in disastrous failure.
But, although this may be fully proved, yet nothing can be
SOCIALISM AND SOCIALISTS.
749%
example, one of the most flourishing industrial
colonies that have ever been known. The basis
of his system was the thought, borrowed from
J. J. Rousseau and Bentham, that the practice of
virtue has enough in it to fully indemnify those
who devote themselves to it. So far the idea is a
7more unjust than to throw aspersions upon the character of
socialists, and to misinterpret their motives. They no doubt
have been mistaken enthusiasts, but it is impossible to deny
that their motives have been pure and their aims lofty. They
have been animated by a desire which must have been felt
by all who are not depraved by selfishness, to lighten poverty,
to alleviate human suffering, and to diffuse more general hap-
piness among mankind. The injustice which is so generally
done to socialists will be perhaps more clearly perceived
when attention is directed to the origin of the socialistic
sentiment. — It has been often remarked that the more a
country advances in wealth, the wider and deeper seems to be
the gulf between the rich and the poor. Not only is this
shown by the fact that the augmentation in the number of
the very wealthy is not accompanied either by a correspond-
ing decrease in the number of the very poor, or by a propor-
tionate diminution of their sufferings; but the separation be-
tween classes seems to become intensified in other ways. The
time was when those who were engaged in any industry,
master, foreman and workmen, dwelt near to each other,
and between them there were often intimate personal rela-
tions, which have now completely passed away. Althuogh
the introduction of steam and the application of various me-
chanical inventions have completely revolutionized the con-
ditions on which industry is carried on, yet there has proba-
bly been a not less marked change in the social and industrial
life of the country. The supplanting of hand-loom weaving
and pillow-lace making by vast manufactories filled with
complicated and costly machinery, does not represent a greater
change than that which is indicated by a comparison between
the present mode of life of men of business and that which
was adopted by them formerly. The merchant and the man-
ufacturer used to reside close to where the daily work of their
lives was carried on. Now, however, each year a greater dis-
tance separates the homes of the master and his workmen.
Many who have accumulated princely fortunes seldom go
within miles of the homes of any of their workmen. All
these considerations show that the relations between em-
ployers and employed have gradually lost their personal char-
acter, and have become more and more commercial. This
being the case, there can, of course, be little friendship or
comradeship; there is too little of that personal sympathy
which often arises among those who are fellow-workers at a
common object; but, on the contrary, labor being bought
and sold in the same way as any commodity of commerce, the
only feelings between employers and employed are too often
those which exist between the buyers and sellers of mer-
chandise. It must not, however, be supposed that the pres-
ent has thus been contrasted with the past with the object
of implying that there has been no improvement, nor must
it be imagined that it would be desirable to restore a state
of things which would in many respects be incompatible
and incongruous with the requirements of modern times.
But being perfectly ready to admit that there has been prog-
ress, yet this should not cause us to lose sight of those draw-
backs associated with commercial development, which make
the present in Some of its aspects compare unfavorably with
the past. It is, of course, far more prudent carefully to
consider these drawbacks with the view of reaching the
causes which produce them; for if this can not be done, if
commercial progress is always to be presented to the mass of
the people in no other aspect than that in which they now
See it, there will certainly arise not only dissatisfaction, but a
desire to effect organic changes in the constitution of society.
Some idea may be formed of the extent to which discontent
must be engendered, when every workman must be con-
stantly reminded of the fact, that, while numbers are unable
to obtain a sufficiency of the necessaries of life, others have
so much superfluous wealth that 1hey are able to squander
it in useless and mischievous luxuries, and never devote
themselves...to one hour's useful employment. The more
the distance widens between the rich and the poor, the more
would then enjoy adequate comfort.
correct one, and no kind of success was wanting:
to the man who put the principle in practice; the:
error consisted in presuming, that, applied to hu-
manity as a whole, it would succeed, as it had,
succeeded in a manufacturing centre. The great
human family can not be governed as a small flock,
the belief is certain to gain ground that there is something.
radically wrong in the laws which regulate the distribution
of wealth. It can not be wise and just, it is plausibly said,
that the produce which the earth, yields should be so appor.
tioned among its inhabitants that, whereas many have far
more than they need, others.have to endure the bitter pangs,
of want. It is urged that if there was more equality in this
distribution, there would be enough, for all; if superfluities.
were taken away from the rich, and given to the poor, all.
Those who are influ-
enced by such ideas as these are at once, by natural sequense,.
led to the conclusion that the circumstances which produce.
inequalities in wealth, are chiefly responsible for all the Social.
and economic evils under which a nation suffers. It is con-
sequently proposed that society should be regulated on.
principles which would, as far as possible, prevent inequal-
ities in wealth. A feeling thus arises in favor of either
abolishing, or greatly curtailing the rights of private prop-
erty. Various schemes have, from time to time, been pro-
pounded with the object of giving effect to these ideas.
Those who would not shrink from applying what they con-
ceive to be a complete remedy, propose that Society should,
be reconstituted on an entirely communistic model ; asso.
ciations being established in which there should be no pri-
vate property, the wealth produced, being the joint property.
of the community. Others suggest less thorough remedies,.
and propose, that, after a due maintenance has been guaran-
teed to all the members, any surplus which may remain
might be appropriated as private property. St. Simon and,
Fourier in France, and Robert Owen in England, have
identified their names with these communistic experiments.
It is scarcely necessary to remark that all such attempts.
have hitherto failed, to obtain any practical success. In
fact, it is not too much: to say that in the present state of
mankind failure is inevitable. Men are not yet sufficiently
advanced to work with as much zeal for the good of others.
as for their own advantage. Those who are industrious will
not long remain content if they see that a considerable por-
tion of the fruits of their labor is devoted to the support of
those who are as well able to work as themselves, but who
are so indolent and improvident that they rely upon others
for their maintenance. — It must, however, be remembered
that such men as: St. Simon, Fourier and Owen never pro-
posed the confiscation of other people's property. They
always contemplated that their communistic Societies should
legitimately acquire the land.and other property upon which,
they first commenced operations. Robert Owen, in fact,
purchased an estate in Hampshire for a considerable Sum
of money, upon which he attempted to give practical effect
to his socialistic ideas. Although these schemes have com-
pletely failed, yet failure has done little to weaken the Senti-
ment which gave them birth. The ideas from which they
have originated, have not been and probably will not be ever
extinguished. Each fruitless endeavor to carry them out
not only stimulates a fresh, development, but also causes.
them to assume another form. Unlike the socialists of
former days, those who are at the present time under the in-
fluence of the socialistic sentiment are beginning to place
their chief reliance upon state intervention. They seem to.
think that if individual efforts, have been unable to achieve
success, this provides the most cogent argument in favor of
an appeal to the state. This is the reason which induces
me to ascribe such grave importance to modern Socialism.
There was no cause to feel alarm or misgiving as long as SO-
cialism simply caused certain, experiments to be tried by en-
thusiasts, against whom no, other charge could be brought
than that they showed too, much zeal in their efforts to im-
prove society. Even their failure did something to benefit.
mankind. It can scarcely be doubted that in these first SO-
cialistic schemes were sown the germs of a social and eco-
nomic movement which has already effected great good, and
which promises more for the future than any other agency.
"750
SOCIALISM AND SOCIALISTS
is governed. It was not long before Robert Owen
perceived this. He himself, by exaggerating it,
had changed the nature of his method for the
worse. From a paternal administration he was
imperceptibly led to the abandonment of all social
restraint. He not only ended in the community,
yet brought into operation. It is well known that some of
those who were the most strongly imbued with the teaching
and doctrines of Robert Owen were the founders, and after-
ward the managers of our most prosperous co-operative in-
stitutions. Co-operation is as yet only in its infancy; it has
hitherto been generally applied to the distribution of wealth,
but rarely to its production. Enough, however, has been
seen of its effects to justify a confident belief that its general
adaptation to industrial undertakings would probably mark
the greatest advance ever yet made in human improvement.
Labor and capital, instead of being hostile interests, will be
united, and by this union an incalculable stimulus will be
given to production. * * *— Until quite recently there
was one most marked and important difference between the
continental and the English workman. The former placed
his chief reliance on the state, whereas it was the aim of the
latter to free himself as much as possible from government
control. One of the first uses which the French workmen
made of their success in the revolution of 1848, was to com-
pel the government to establish national workshops, and to
advance loans to co-operative associations. One of the first
things which the English workmen did, when they obtained
political power by the reform bill of 1867, was to call upon |
parliament to repeal all the laws which interfered with the
formation of voluntary trade combinations. The continental
workman was constantly looking to the state as he would to
a powerful friend or benefactor to aid and reward him. The
attitude of the English workman has, until recently, been
one rather of hostility toward the state. His habit has been
to claim freedom from government control, so that he might
have a free and open field for the exercise of his energies.
"This difference, however, between English and continental
laborers is becoming less marked. It can scarcely have es-
caped notice that during the last two or three years English
workmen have with much greater frequency asked for gov-
ernment assistance; and the demands for state intervention
are constantly enlarging. There are many circumstances
which have contributed to bring about this change. In the
first place, it is probable, as previously indicated, that the
growing tendency shown by so many of our artisans to rely
upon the state may be traced to the false hopes excited, some
years since, by those who taught the people to believe that
the great end to be striven after was a larger production of
wealth. This augmented production of wealth has taken
place, and when it is found to be unaccompanied by the
predicted improvement in the condition of the poor, there is
naturally aroused keen disappointment, and there is diffused
through the industrial classes a general feeling of distrust.
They get into just that frame of mind which causes them to
give a ready acceptance to any doctrines differing from those
by which they suppose they have been deceived. The opin-
ions in favor of state intervention so current among conti-
mental workmen now consequently find a more ready ac-
ceptance in this country; these opinions are, in fact, trans-
planted to our shores under such favorable circumstances
that, for a time at least, they seem to have taken root among
us. * * * – Fully, however, admitting that among those
who hold these opinions are still to be found some of our
ablest artisans, yet it can scarcely be denied by any who ob-
serve the signs of the times that, so far as England is con-
cerned, the demands for state assistance are each year assum-
ing more formidable proportions. This will be sufficiently
shown by enumerating some of the many things which the
state is, with increasing urgency, asked to supply for the peo-
ple. It is now, for instance, often said that the government
should pay the passage-money of emigrants; should furnish
work at good wages for the unemployed; and should secure
for laborers comfortable houses and wholesome food at a
reasonable rate. Such proposals as these represent the opin-
ions of those who may by comparison be regarded as mod-
erate in their demands. * * *—In one respect this grow-
ing tendency to rely upon the state is fraught with greater
been able to solve.
but he took from the community the only guar-
antee it possessed, the responsibility of the indi-
vidual. If we believe him, man, having come
accidentally into this world, and being the play-
thing of accidental circumstances through life,
could not, without injustice, be declared respon-
sible for his acts. Fatality alone determined good
and evil ; with the individual, there could be
neither merit nor demerit. Why, then, punish-
ment or reward? It was better to let man and
Society follow their bent, removing all the cir-
cumstances which might lead to evil, and in-
creasing those which might lead to good. So
much for this world; and, as to the other, why
trouble one’s self about it? It escapes our means
of knowledge; it is an enigma which no one has
Such was Owen's conclusion.
Never was negation more absolute, stated with
greater candor. During fifty years he presented
it to rebellious human societies as their only means
of Salvation; in colonies, in plans, in publications,
in voluntary subscriptions, he spent a vast amount
of money, without his personal sacrifices being
able to make his desolating maxims advance a se-
rious step. They wounded men's souls at too
many points to be able to make any great ravages.
The inventor of them lived long enough to assist
at the obsequies of his doctrine. — The doctrines
of Saint-Simon permitted more consideration to be
danger to England than to many other countries. This is
not an appropriate place to discuss the advantages and dis-
advantages of government by party. There is, however, one
aspect in which party government may be viewed, as having
a very direct bearing upon the subject we are now considering.
The two great political sections who contend for place and
power have a constant temptation held out to them to bid
against each other for popular support. [May not the same
be said of political parties in the United States ?] When,
therefore, it is perceived that any particular set of opinions
has obtained a great hold upon the masses, place and power
will seem to be the lot of the political party which promises
to do most to give effect to these opinions. Under the press-
ure of this temptation, it may, consequently, any day hap-
pen, that statesmen will accept doctrines and pursue a policy
against which, if their judgment was unbiased, they would
be the first to protest. This is a peril which hangs over this
country, and recent events have shown that I am not conjur-
ing up an imaginary vision of coming danger. During the
last year [this was written in the early part of 1872] direct
encouragement has been given to some of the most mischiev-
ous and alarming features of modern socialism by one who
is, and by another who has been, a responsible minister of
state. The budget of 1871 was framed in accordance with
Some of the financial principles of the international associa-
tion; and no member of this organization ever made more
reckless promises to the proletariat than did Sir John Paking-
ton, when, as president of the social science association, he
told the workmen, in his address at Leeds, that parliament
ought to secure for them comfortable homes and wholesome
food at reasonable prices. A few months before Sir John
Pakington enunciated these mischievous doctrines, the peo-
ple had been virtually told by the chancellor of the ex-
chequer, that if they make some demand, the granting of
which involves additional expenditure, the majority shall.
avoid contributing a single shilling toward the outlay, and
shall be enabled to throw the whole burden upon the payers
of income tax. Under such fostering care it is not surprising
that there is rapidly growing up in this country an abnormal
development of that new form of socialism, the cardinal
principle of which is that all social improvements must be
effected by state agency, and must also be carried out by
public money.”— HENRY FAWCETT.
SOCIALISM AND SOCIALISTS.
751.
paid them ; the basis of his system was a purely
sacerdotal government. No more division be-
tween the temporal power and the spiritual; the
time had come to confound them. Instead of a
pope and an emperor, men were to have a father,
who would unite the functions of both, and gov-
•ern in the forum internum and the forum easternum,
in things spiritual as well as temporal. Thus
would cease, between the body and the spirit, a
struggle which has lasted from the beginning of
the world, and which has maintained disorder in
the world. A natural hierarchy would follow on
this change. Society would be divided into three
classes: savans, artists, and those engaged in in-
'dustrial pursuits; and the chiefs of these three
classes would be the greatest savans, the greatest
artists, and the greatest workers in the industrial
world. These latter would need no investiture
but that of the consciousness of their force. They
would not be chosen; they would install them-
selves in their own position. The human family
would know them by their works. Moreover,
the new bond of society would be, under this
régime, not fear, but affection; and the most loving,
placing themselves above others, would necessa-
rily impart their tone to all others. The chain of
positions being thus formed, everything would
follow in the most natural manner imaginable;
•each one would take rank in proportion to his
capacity, and each capacity would be served in
proportion to its works. Thenceforth humanity
was to be only one family, and the earth to consti-
tute only one great farm, the fruits of which were
to be divided in proportion to rank and services.
Such was the Saint-Simonian law, and it added,
on the condition of woman and the relation of the
sexes, certain not over-edifying precepts summed
up in the expressive words, rehabilitation of the
flesh. We know in what this strange morality
sended, so far as the principal disciples of Saint-
Simon are concerned. Its public profession cost
them a suit in the courts and a sentence. Their
religion did not survive this scandal, and was dis-
persed to the music of hisses. Everything con-
sidered, it was not worth the noise made about it.
A political papacy invested with discretionary
powers, with the sovereign disposal of the lot and
rank of individuals in society, preaching the reign
of the Senses under the lying cover of the equal-
ity of the sexes, was not a system, and did not
advocate a doctrine, which could long resist the
revolt of men's consciences and the decrees of
public Opinion. — The same fate was reserved,
after a longer defense, for the doctrine of Charles
Fourier. Substantially it had the same founda-
tion; but the mode of procedure of Fourierism
was different. Fourierism, like Saint-Simonism,
wished to substitute a world of the fancy for the
real world, and an artificial order for the course
of things. Fourier started out with the idea, that
from the earliest ages to our own time the passions
have been the Source of so many evils only because
they have been unskillfully suppressed. God, ac-
Cording to Fourier, can not have made anything
essentially bad or essentially useless. If the pas-
Sions, in their actual play, are the source of many
disorders, it is not with the passions themselves
that we must find fault, but with the medium in
which they move, a human medium, and there-
fore susceptible of modification. “Attractions,”
says Fourier, “are proportional to destinies,”
which means that it would be all gain for men
to yield to their inclinations. Hence they must
be satisfied in an association freely agreed to, and
in which all the instincts of man may have room
for the fullest play. These formulas of associa,
tion are the ingenious part of Fourier's work.
The association is in groups, which end in series,
and these in phalanxes. The group is the cell of
the human live; it is composed of seven or nine
persons; it has a centre and wings, and a harmony
which results as much from its identities as from
its contrasts. The series comprise from twenty-
four to thirty-two groups. The phalanx is Four-
ier's commune; consisting of 1,800 souls, it lives
in a palace which he calls the phalanstery, divided
in such a manner as to procure the greatest possi-
ble number of pleasures, while avoiding all the
prejudices which result from the arrangement of
actual households. As to property, it does not
incorporate itself in individuals; it is collective.
Its value circulates only under the form of cou-
pons, and becomes susceptible of appropriation;
products are divided among the three direct agents
of production : capital, talent and labor. . Let us
add, that in Fourier's system no repugnance at-
taches to this labor; it is attended by a love for
it, taste and buoyancy; it is done in short ses-
sions, in holiday clothes, with passion and spirit;
the task is taken up or dropped at will, and va-
ried so as to produce neither monotony nor wea-
riness. Nor is this all; to these wonders of earth
Fourier adds the joys of a heaven of his own.
He has his own cosmogony and his own transmi,
gration of souls; he walks his system through the
spheres, and requires of our planets the most sin-
gular services. The whole of Fourier's system
may be summed up thus: a universal government,
a perfect world adorned by a perfect society. Be-
yond this, imagination can not soar. In this land.
of vertigo, nothing is to be found but glare.
Again, we have a world to be made over, a civili-
zation to be reconstructed, man and humanity to
be renewed in a confused amalgam of the marvel-
ous and the real. — Here stops the series of social-
ists at first hand; after them come the plagiarists,
and, first of all, Cabet. Like Campanella and Sir
Thomas More, Cabet has given us, in his “Icarie,”
an imaginary community, which unites all perfec-
tions in itself, and which found, in the streets of
Paris, more than one partisan whom time has dis-
abused. When it became a question to pass from
ideas to acts, he perished in the attempt, and
learned what becomes of dreams when brought to
wrestle with realities. And so it was with Louis
Blanc. In the silence of his study he had imag-
ined an administrative workshop which would
cure industry of the leprosy of competition. He
752
SOCIALISM AND SOCIALISTS.
would have the state become entrepreneur (see
ENTREPRENEUR) and universal producer ; he
would have it carry out, at the expense of the
public treasury, an experiment in relation to the
economy of manual labor. In the workshops
which were to be established, the workmen were
to share in the profits of exploitation, and these
workshops, of different kinds, were to be associ-
ated among themselves in such a way that the
profits of some might serve to cover, if need
were, the losses of others.” Nothing could be
more ingenious on paper; each of these work-
shops would become a type and a model; free in-
dustry would be forced, under pain of death, to
draw inspiration from them, and this idea of the
absorption and destruction of free industry was
discoverable in the spirit of the project.
activity was destined to disappear before official
activity. We know what these specious plans
became in the execution of them: by forced devi-
ation the administrative workshop became the na-
tional workshop (see ATELIERs NATIONAUx), with
an elective head, and a minimum of wages, two
features borrowed from the combination of Louis
Blanc. A false idea led to applications still more
false, so false that the author of the idea vehe-
mently and justly repudiated them. Proudhon was
no happier. Is it proper to rank Proudhon among
socialists? No one battled them more fiercely
than he; he produced the evidence of their con-
tradictions, the emptiness of their plans, and the
poverty of their doctrines; he left nothing stand-
ing, neither their arguments, nor their combina-
tions; and he warmed against them even to the
point of invective. But if he was brutal toward
the community, he was no less so toward prop-
erty; and he remains a socialist spite of himself.
From the core of what he denies we need only
disengage what he affirms, to become convinced
of this. Thus, he sacrifices the idea of property
to I know not what species of imaginary posses-
sion floating in vacuo. And so, after an at-ran-
dom dissertation on the determination of value,
he arrives at imagining a general and uniform tar-
iff for it, both for labor and products, by measur-
ing the price of these latter by the number of
hours employed in producing them | Lastly, as a
consequence, he proposes to replace money made
of gold and silver, by orders payable in kind, in
such a manner as to return from gold and silver
money to barter, and to deprive capital of one of
its most evident powers, the power to produce in-
terest. On all these points Proudhon remains on
the staff of the socialistic legion which he so mal-
treated. To the same staff belongs also Pierre
Leroux, as he appeared with a plan of human
Society in his hand. He admits the family, fa-
therland and property only on certain conditions.
He finds that the fatherland has the drawback of
recognizing a chief or head; the family, of rec-
ognizing a father and children; and the institu-
* This is almost the system extolled by the famous Ger-
man agitator, Ferdinand Lasalle. What is said lower of
Proudhon applies to some extent to Karl Marx,
Private
tion of property, of recognizing rich and poor.
Pure despotism It is all a question of finding a .
combination in which the family, the fatherland.
and property shall be such that man may develop
in them without being oppressed by them; in other
words, that the family should not produce an heir,
that the fatherland should have no subjects, and
property no proprietor. Such is the problem, such
the solution: if to it we add a little of theurgy
and metempsychosis, we shall have all the baggage:
of Leroux, so far as things serious are concerned.
— We have reached the end of those systems, and
may judge in what they agree, and in what they
differ. Under the names we have mentioned, there.
now remain but the men for whom socialism.
was a tool or a pedestal, and the political parties.
who took up the standard of Socialism without
seeking to define it. Socialism, indeed, has had its
day; many were attracted by it as men are attract-
ed by novelty; then the crowd mixed with it with
the obscure feeling that it would find its advantage”
in it, and that in the absence of conviction they
should adhere to it from pure calculation. And
how could the crowd defend itself against Social-
ism? It was promised higher wages in return for
less labor, a quarry to hunt in a society in dissolu-
tion, the leveling of conditions, the humiliation of
the higher classes, and a general division of pri-
vate fortunes among all. Is it to be wondered at
that such vertigo was contagious, and that it be-,
came in some countries, for an instant, an Object.
of alarm 2 Yet socialism did not deserve so much:
honor. As a theory, it could not stand examina-
tion; as a fact, it was not able to succeed under
any circumstances or at any point. The name of
Owen is connected with the failures of New Har-
mony and Orbistan; that of Cabet, with the Nau-
voo failure in the state of Illinois; with Fourier's,
a series of discomfitures which followed on the
heels of each other at Condé-sur-Vesgres, Citeaux,
in the valley of the Sig, and in America. From
the ideas of Louis Blanc, there proceeded only
the ateliers nationawa (national workshops), the
paternity of which he excepted to ; of the bold-
ness and rashness of Proudhon, all that remains-
is the memory of the bank of eachange or bank of
the people, made famous by the most untoward
catastrophe. The history of contemporary Social--
ism is but one continual abortion. The principal
actors on its stage have disappeared from the Scene,
and left their places to a few confidants who stam-
mer out their parts. All that socialism and Social-
ists have done is reduced to a few plans of associ-
ation, to a few commonplaces which are only the
weakened echo of their first timorous ideas, to a
few formulas whose meaning time changes, and
which have become fixed in language as problems
or bugbears. — Thus, all these chimeras gradually
depart into the regions of oblivion. It may be:
that the same vertigo will appear again under
other forms and another name; our globe is the
seat of an eternal revolt and of an eternal Wail.
But then as now, unless the hour of an irrevocable
decline has struck for humanity, the result of:
SOCIAL CONTRACT.
753
such errors can not be doubtful.
rors are covered with a mask the love of the
people, the interest of the suffering, the feeling
of human perfectibility, the advance of genera-
tions to a better state and one less full of shocking
inequalities. But behind this mask we find a
more living physiognomy. That living physiog-
nomy is the truth of things, whether the inventors
of systems be conscious of it or not. Behind the
truth of things the public conscience always re-
treated and always will retreat. This, to its hon-
or, we must hope. The question is of a war to the
knife against established civilizations, to the profit
of imaginary civilizations; it is a question of de-
struction for the sole purpose of building up
again; it is a question of giddily abandoning our-
selves to systems which, scarcely fledged, give
battle to one another, and which die out in the
shock of rivalry and the weakness of isolation.
It would seem, indeed, that socialists supposed
that society, such as it exists, is only so much
stage scenery which might be made to disappear
at the wave of a wand. And what is proposed
in its place? Servitude in all its forms. Take all
these systems; they have one feature in common,
which is to stifle, by their artificial forms, the
taste for and the use of liberty. They condemn
human activity to carry a yoke of iron. Here
man is enticed into a world of fancy, and there he
is condemned to devote himself to others without
the merit of that devotion being allowed him.
He can no longer dispose of the fruits of his
labor, nor regulate the employment of his hands
or his brain. The state takes possession of his
entire person, of his goods, of the products he cre-
ates, and determines the portion of them which
he shall receive back. Under the régime of so-
cialism the individual disappears, and is absorbed
by a collective being. He ceases to be a body or
a soul, and becomes a piece of mechanism. Slav-
ery does not more completely than socialism de-
stroy the personality of man. (Compare ATE-
LIERS NATIONAUx, COMMUNISM, FOURIERISM,
PROPERTY.) LOUIS REYBAUD.
SOCIAL CONTRACT. Is society a human
institution? Or, is it of natural institution? These
are the two questions which must be solved in or-
der to form a clear and exact idea of the rights
and duties of man in the civil and political order.
Of course I here suppose that man is a free being,
for every system that denies human freedom
thereby denies the possibility of a binding moral
law. I suppose it to be admitted, also, that there
is an order of the universe, for otherwise creation
would be unintelligible, and the destiny of man
an enigma; that this order is so imperious that
every reasonable creature should respect it and
accomplish it in himself and out of himself, which
gives his rights and duties the sanction of natural
law. Wom Scripta lea, Sed mata. I suppose, final-
ly, that the conception of the ideas of liberty, or-
der and harmony, however high they may be, and
precisely perhaps because they are high, are not
167 VOL. III. — 48
True, these er-
the final term of human intelligence; that these
ideas cause him to take one more step and lift
him to the very substance of universal order, to
God who gave to each being its constitution and
its end. —If I am met by a refusal to admit these
hypotheses as the bases of my investigation, I de-
clare myself powerless, I will not say to solve, but
even to discuss, the problem placed before me, for,
as a man can not walk on the ground without a
point of support, neither can the intelligence move
if the very bases of all reason are lacking it. I
affirm, therefore, the existence of two laws : one
natural, or divine; the other positive, or human;
| the former immutable, the second variable; from
this distinction flows the solution of the problem
of man and society. — God, when creating man,
gave him a nature proper to himself. By reason
of this nature relations are established between
him and his fellows which bind them together
and form of them a whole, which is the Social state.
Society is, therefore, the aggregate of the differ-
ent beings bound together by the relations which
spring from their respective natures, and which
constitute the law of order. Hence the obligation
of every reasonable and free being to regulate his
conduct in conformity with these relations. This
is what Montesquieu has so well expressed in the
following definition, which is a flash of genius:
“Laws are the necessary relations which spring
from the nature of things.” And he indicates by
the following phrase what he understands by mec-
essary relations : “Before there were intelligent
beings, such beings were possible; they had, there-
fore, relations, and, consequently, possible laws.”
In fact, a thing to which laws could not be given
would not be a possible thing. Then Montesquieu
adds: “God made these laws, because they have
a relation to his wisdom and his power.” Hence
the consequence that when man was created, he
was created for society, which was a necessary,
fundamental law of his nature ; for he was not
created alone, he found himself face to face with
a being similar to himself, and directly of these
two beings there was one of them who owed
something to the other, and another to whom
something was due. Thence arose immediately be-
tween these two beings the right and duty which
followed from their respective natures, which last,
being equal and identical, necessarily engender
equal rights and duties. – I therefore most ener-
getically deny the social contract in so far as it is
affirmed to be a pact entered into at the origin of
human society to establish its laws. It was na-
ture, or rather Providence, that willed the estab-
lishment of society; it was the wants of man
which afterward made the laws after the notions
of a superior law, which speaks to the heart of
all men, the divine imprint of which is found
everywhere the same. “Necerit,” says Cicero,
“alia, lea, Roma, alia Athenis, alia nume, alia post-
hac, Sed et omnes gemtes et omnº temporé una lea, et
Sempiterma et immortalis continebit.” If this law
sometimes varies among different nations, it al-
ways retains that which is of its essence, Burke
754
SOCIAL CoN TRACT.
expressed the same idea when he said that there
are in nature sources of justice from which civil
laws flow like so many streamlets; and that just
as waters take the tint and the taste of the soils
through which they run, civil laws vary with the
regions and the governments of different countries,
although they all proceed from the same source.
— The hypothesis of an anti-social state, and of
an organization of Society according to an agree-
ment entered into, is a system in contradiction
with the nature and destiny of man; it would
logically imply the right to break the contract, for
the benefit of the contracting parties, should it
become inconvenient or burdensome to them, and
to leave the bosom of society to return to the state
of nature, which would be the negation of the
sacred and eternal idea of order toward which all
free and reasonable creatures inevitably gravitate,
and also the negation of an obligatory law anteri-
or and superior to the wills or caprices of man. —
Hobbes was the first modern philosopher who pro-
fessed the doctrine of a state of nature anterior to
the social state; man left this state of nature only
because it was a state of war; whence the celebrated
axiom, “War is the state of nature.” But what
is society in such a system? It is the creation of
a force great enough to substitute peace for war.
Peace, therefore, being the end of society, it fol-
lows that there are two modes of the formation,
or two possible origins, of Society. The first is
the contract by which a collection of men, or of
families, agree to constitute a force superior to in-
dividual forces, a force capable of crushing them
out and thus of establishing peace at any price.
The second mode is to lose no time in collecting
the votes of persons interested in putting an end
to the state of war, to enter into this so necessary
contract. It is sufficient that a man, by force or
artifice, succeed in establishing his power over
a collection of men, and be able to maintain it,
in order to establish straightway the social bond.
The right of the stronger establishes this bond as
completely as a contract. And this latter method
is even the better form of society; for power con-
centrated in a single hand, affords more guaran-
tees of strength and durability, and is consequent-
ly more perfect; its mission being to crush out all
individual forces by all possible means, and to
maintain the state of peace by the destruction of
the state of war which is found in the existence
of individual forces; hence the more unlimited
power is, the better it is. From this it follows
that all limitation is contrary to the end of power
and of Society, and that, whatever the despot
may wish, it is the duty of his subjects to obey,
and they have no right to resist. Such, in a few
words, is the celebrated system of Hobbes. – Ad-
mitting that men are really what Hobbes pretends
they are, that is, famished wolves which devour
each other—homo homºn? lupus—it might be main-
tained against him that the contract which binds
them together, whether based on consent or on
force, could have no possible existence. The
laws would be merely heavy chains, and the sole
aspiration of each and every individual would be
to break them, to escape from his cage and rush
on the chief chosen or imposed on him, who
would soon and necessarily succumb to numbers.
Whatever be the opinion held concerning the orig-
inal nature of man, it is evident that the conse-
quences which Hobbes draws from his premises
are open to discussion, since, starting from the
Same point, J. J. Rousseau arrives at opposite
conclusions. – Rousseau considers the state of na-
ture as the ideal of man, and the social state as a
contract state. Nature, therefore, ‘‘took little care
to bring men together by mutual wants; she did
little to pave the way for society; she put little of
her own into all that men have done.” Neverthe-
less, Rousseau acknowledges that the social state
was an advance on the state of nature; he admits,
that, instead of destroying natural equality, the
fundamental pact, on the contrary, substituted a
moral and legitimate equality for whatever ine-
quality nature might have placed among men, and
that, it being possible for them to be unequal in
force or in genius, they all become equal by con-
vention and of right. Thus the contract was en-
tered into to the improvement of the lot of hu-
manity. Not that the law of nature is not supe-
rior to positive law, for it comes from God.
“Whatever is good and comformable to order is
such by the nature of things and independently of
human conventions. All justice comes from God,
he alone is its source; but if we knew how to re-
ceive it from so exalted a source we would need
neither government nor law. Doubtless there is
a universal justice emanating from reason alone;
but this justice, to be admitted by us, must be re-
ciprocal. To look at things from a human point
of view, in default of a natural sanction, the laws
of justice are powerless among men. * * There-
fore conventions and laws are necessary to unite
rights to duties, and restore justice to its object.”
— We now perceive the profound difference be-
tween the system of Rousseau and that of Hobbes.
Rousseau elevates man ; Hobbes degrades him.
The former leads to liberty; the latter to despotism.
Applied to governments, the philosophy of Hobbes
creates in the bosom of political society the dom-
ination of a single will. Around this will are
grouped the instruments of obedient and blind
forces, which it moves as it pleases. The general
will must become an immense holocaust ; the
caprice of a single man must lead and govern all.
It is the image under which we may represent
Satan, that rebel angel, seeking eternally to com-
bat against light, that is to say, liberty. Such a
system would be the greatest degradation of hu-
manity, a really infernal work from which Christ
has saved the world. It is useless for Hobbes to
say that power, such as he conceived it, is alone
capable of ending the state of war which is at the
foundation of society. The Society which he de-
picts is not a hive of men, but a den of Wild beasts.
The despot whom Hobbes places at the summit of
his edifice, far from giving energy to the Senti-
ments which constitute the dignity of the human
SOCIAL CONTRACT.
755
race, would seek, on the contrary, to stifle them.
Liberty! he would dread its smallest spark; for
everything must be a piece of mechanism, the
motive power of which is held by one. The con-
dition of the subject is to obey; the right of com-
manding belongs to the despot alone; the man who
deliberates is from that very fact a rebel.
certain effect of the arts and sciences is to elevate
man's immortal Soul, and to give it noble aspira-
tions; the despot is careful to prevent the growth
of these aspirations; he therefore paralyzes pub-
lic education. Under this régime equality is an
unknown word; favor is everything, merit noth-
ing. Security does not exist. Everything belongs
to the Sovereign master—person and property.
This want of security destroys all culture, all
emulation, all industry. The object being to in-
spire terror, the severity of penalties bears no pro-
portion to the crimes committed. No; this strong
power, which Hobbes praises, can never found a
prosperous and peaceful society, for despotism is
not a creative but a destructive force. — Strange
contradiction between two philosophers, two
thinkers of rare power! While Hobbes deduces
from the social contract which he imagines the
despotic type, Rousseau infers from it the demo-
cratic type. Reason, good sense, if we were
obliged to admit this pretended contract, would
evidently be on the side of the French philosopher
as against the English philosopher; for it is diffi-
cult to suppose that men would come together, to
agree on a social state which, instead of making
them free citizens, would turn them into slaves.
Rousseau imagines a people who give themselves
laws, in which they realize all their powers as an
artist of genius doës in his domain.
are free in it, objects free, actions free. Propor-
tions are perfectly expressed in that empire. Each
organ is a complete whole, which preserves its in-
tegrity in the sphere in which it moves. It has
its specific force in accordance with which it ex-
ercises the functions entrusted to it, though it still
obeys a general law, from which, in the aggre-
gate, there results a simple and magnificent har-
mony. Such is the ideal of Rousseau as opposed
to that of Hobbes.— Why have Hobbes and Rous-
seau, in starting from the same point, arrived at
results so different? Because both constructed a
work, not of reason, but of imagination. Instead
of constructing this marvelous product called so-
ciety from the immutable elements of humanity,
they constructed it of the changing elements of
history. Hobbes lived at the time of the great
English revolution. Chance, and perhaps his
character, threw him into the party of absolute
right. He saw the head of a prince he loved fall
under the rage of factions. The sight of the rev-
olution and of its excesses stirred his soul. He
thought he beheld the dissolution of society, be-
cause he witnessed the birth of a new order of
things. He concluded from this that a power
Strong and able to command the waves was neces-
sary in order to curb the popular flood. Rousseau
had under his eyes the exact opposite of this. He
The
Tendencies
had seen royalty abusing its power, oppressing
peoples, living by the sweat of the people's brow,
exhibiting every species of immorality and scan-
dal. Right, everywhere ignored, needed an aveng-
er. Rousseau became this avenger, and thereby lost
his country. Hobbes and Rousseau started from
a false principle; they ignored the rules of natural
law, and they expiated their error by the low es-
timation into which their doctrines have fallen in
the eyes of posterity. Instead of going astray in
the regions of the imagination in Order to find the
origin of society, it would be much simpler to
say, with a modern philosopher: “The society of
beavers is formed by virtue of the laws of the na-
ture of beavers; the society of men is formed by
virtue of the laws of human nature; to reach the
true idea of the formation of human Society, we
must therefore start with a true idea of human
nature; all light is there ; beyond that, there is
nothing but hypotheses and contradictions.” Let
us therefore seek that light. — The right consid-
ered in its root and its ultimate reason can be
found neither in the world of sense nor in the
sphere of experience and of history. Right in
itself is eternal; it is independent of manners and
customs, of religions and climates. Owing to
this independence it must extend its sceptre over
all the earth, without distinctions of epochs or
races. Thus is explained the Sovereign power of
law. From the fact that law exists, it follows
that there is a being to whom it applies, and that
that being is a man, that is to say, a moral being,
with reason and freedom, and not a brute outside
the bounds of reason and of liberty. Now, the
sphere of the application of law or right is Soci-
ety. Society, then, is contemporary with man.
Why did man institute this power, this product?
It was not alone from the point of view of his se-
curity. The right to security originates the mo-
ment that a certain number of men have taken
possession of a corner of the earth, and are con-
fronted by the same wants and dangers. Side by
side with the ideal of right and law, there is the
ideal of duty. A society has of necessity, from
its birth, moral rules which precede positive law,
and which may be summed up as follows: Law
or right, like duty, spring from conscience, and
consequently whatever wounds the conscience is
neither a right nor a duty. Freedom, as a source
of action, is the foundation of right and duty, that
is to say, of morality. The circle of rights and
duties is as broad as that of the necessary relations
which may bind together free beings. Society
having an object, each one of its members should
divest himself of the rights the personal and in-
dependent exercise of which would hinder soci-
ety from attaining this object. He should accept
all the duties which society imposes on him for
the attaining of this object; for there would be no
society, properly speaking, where there was no
constraining power to compel co-operation to at-
tain the final object of society.— Considered from
this point of view, society is as eternal as right,
as conscience. History shows us great catastro-
756
SOCIAL SCIENCE.
phes, nations and races which have been swal-
lowed up in the abyss of time ; the earth also
shows us on every side traces of great physical
revolutions, which have ravaged, transformed and
renewed it; in like manner the present division of
nations bears witness to great political perturba-
tions, which at different times so profoundly in-
fluenced the destinies of nations; we everywhere
tread on ruins and funeral couches. But did so-
ciety itself ever perish? Did not its living and
sacred image always escape destruction? When
Troy, abandoned to the flames, was about to be-
come a pile of ashes, Eneas fled, bearing with
sadness into exile the venerated images which
represented immortal society, and approaching a
new land, he cried out: “Italiam! Italiam!” then,
placing his precious relics on a fruitful soil, he
founded Rome, the future heiress of the world.
Civilizations are thus superimposed one upon
another, are amalgamated together, are made or
unmade, advance or recede; but Society, and an
ever better society, rises always up amid the ruins
of extinct civilizations, because society is above
civilization itself. — If society were the result of
a contract, it might be dissolved by withdrawing
the consent which formed it. Otherwise there
would be an implied contradiction. Do we not
see then what an upheaval would result from such
a state of affairs? Do we not see the perturbation
that would be caused in the scale of rights and
duties? Do we not see that binding moral law
would disappear from the world, and that the so-
cial force would disappear before individual force?
If men who had learned all the advantages of so-
cial life, renounced it at once, and retired into
forests and deserts, these men would obey the
caprices of a disordered imagination and the in-
spirations of wandering reason, but we could not
admit that they acted in virtue of a right. The
state of society is therefore an impulse of the
moral nature of man, and not the impulse of his
intelligence; it is spontaneous, and not the result
of deliberation. It comes from above, not from
below; it is not of man, but of God, who, in cre-
ating man intelligent, also created the earth to
satisfy the wants of his intelligent creature, and
who distributed among the countries different
products, in order to oblige men to exchange the
different kinds of wealth of the countries they
inhabit, in such a way that they might be forced
to labor for each other, and that, from the selfish
efforts of a single man, the good of all should
necessarily flow, as the system of the universe re-
sults from the force of attraction.
EUGäNE PAIGNON.
SOCIAL SCIENCE. Society is ruled by nat-
ural laws, like the human body and every living
organism. The laws of an organism determine
the relations between its different parts, between
its members and organs; social laws should estab-
lish, therefore, the nature of the relations which
exist between men, as well as their causes and
their effects; and social Science should co-ordinate
these laws in a systematic manner. — Social sci-
ence must not be confounded with political science.
The latter has to do with the relations between
states, between governments and subjects, and be-
tween citizens; while social science takes cogni-
zance only of men, to the exclusion of the external
bond which is called the state. — Now, of what
nature are the relations among men 2 They an-
swer evidently to our needs, which are of two
kinds, material and moral. Thus, on the one
hand, they answer to the necessity of food, cloth-
ing, shelter and defense; and, on the other hand,
to man’s desire for instruction, and, in general, to
a whole series of faculties and passions, which
draw men together and put them in contact. —
Society is composed of individuals, and every-
thing that contributes to their preservation helps
the preservation of society. But although man is
a “sociable animal’’ or a “political animal” we
can, strictly speaking, conceive of the absence of
all human society. Many Savages live in an iso-
lated manner, in couples or in very small families;
they have only material wants to satisfy. But of
society may it be said that it “does not live by
bread alone,” for it is principally the moral wants
of men which create and maintain its bonds. In
a word, material wants preserve the individual,
and moral wants society; to the former correspond
the egotistical sentiments, to the latter the affective
sentiments, abnegation and self-control. The ego-
tistical sentiments and the affective sentiments (or
the faculty of self-sacrifice) are capable of attaining
an equal degree of strength. Before the existence
of society the affective sentiments acted in a scarce-
ly perceptible manner; later, with the development
of civilization, their strength gradually increased,
and the more intense they became, the more the
bonds of society were strengthened. It even hap-
pened at times that these sentiments, or some of
them, degenerated into destructive passions, and
produced evils great in extent and intensity. —
We have already suggested, that, in our opinion,
the affective sentiments are the first cause of ab-
negation, self-control and sacrifice; paternal and
maternal love, filial piety, patriotism, military
honor, esprit de corps, furnish numerous examples
of this. Abnegation, once disengaged or isolated
from the sheaf of human sentiments, develops,
and is not slow to offer a counter-weight to every
act of egotism. This counter-weight is not always.
sufficient, far from it; but it is rarely entirely
powerless. Its effect is often aided by numerous
circumstances, which we can not enumerate here,
but it becomes completely of no avail when it con-
sists only of a word, that is to say, when the ab-
negation is not founded upon a want of Our nature.
— Thence comes, also, the inanity of those new
social systems, hatched in the brain of a man who
pretends to foresee everything, to measure every-
thing, and to assign to everything its relative im-
portance; in other words, in the brain of a man
who wishes to reorganize Society according to the
ideas of his own idiosyncrasy. For if Society is
really governed by natural laws, and it would be
SOCIETY.
757
absurd to doubt it, arbitrariness could have no
power over it; to influence it, one would have to
begin by submitting himself to those laws which
he can control only by making use of their power.
— There is a science which concerns itself with
the means of satisfying Our material wants; there
is another which has to do with our moral wants;
the one is political economy, the other moral sci-
ence; it is, therefore, the union of the two which
constitutes Social Science. An endeavor has been
made to establish the relations which exist be-
tween political economy and morality by seeking,
among economic propositions, those which resem-
ble certain precepts of morality. For example,
political economy and morality show, each from
its own point of view, the utility of labor and
Saving; by the aid of comparisons of this nature,
it has been easy to show the morality of economic
principles. It seems to us that here a wrong road
has been followed. The sciences are not moral or
immoral; they state laws. Has it ever been ex-
amined whether mathematics or chemistry has any
relation with morality or with religion ? Such
preoccupations might lead some ardent believer to
ºxcommunicate the earth because it allows itself
to revolve about the Sun The Sciences have no
relation with religion, nor with morality, and a
science which studies what may be called the
base side of nature or of man, is no less noble than
any other. Must we despise the physician because
he is occupied solely with disease? Or must we
despise the judge because he has to do only with
criminals? And supposing that the economist
studies the selfish sentiments of man, it does not
follow that he is selfish himself. Turgot, Adam
Smith and J. Stuart Mill were generous men.
The man who studies toxicology is not a poisoner.
Man is more or less selfish, according to his tem-
perament or his education. Moreover, we must
not speak too ill of selfishness kept within the
bounds of justice, of the love of self, since it is a
ſum?versal sentiment, INDISPENSABLE to the preser-
ºvation of our species. The economist proves that
Our wants make us work, and this, not because
morality recommends it, but because the satis-
faction of these wants is an imperative necessity
Of Our nature. Man must eat or die. The econo-
mist, in investigating the laws of labor, permits us
to render it more productive and less arduous.
The economist establishes also the action of supply
and demand. Has he created this action? Does
he approve it? No more than the natural philoso-
pher Created Or approves of the rain. Does one
approve or disapprove of a natural law 7 Would
you disapprove of the horse because he walks
‘On four legs, or of the bird because it flies, or
of the fish because it swims? Such is their law,
and whether it pleases you or displeases you, you
Can do nothing to change it. Besides, we create
nothing; we ascertain facts, and in our relations
with these animals, we take into account the estab-
lished facts, and act accordingly. In the same
Way, the economist has not created the law of
Supply and demand, a law which we consider as
the most characteristic and strongest expression of
Selfishness. What is supply and demand, if not
a sentiment which can be formulated thus: you
need my superfluous goods, well, you shall pay
for them, and the more dearly in proportion as
your need is the more intense, so long as you are
able to give me an equivalent for them? This
sentiment is so general that we find it quite simple
that the price of an article should rise in proportion
to its relative rarity. We are convinced that this
action of supply and demand, which is so cruel,
renders, upon the whole, great Services to society.
Are not arsenic, belladonna and many other poi-
sons of service 2 But were the action of supply
and demand an evil without compensation, we
ought to study it, and the economist will have
deserved well of humanity for having thoroughly
examined its mechanism. — It would be then the
task of the moralist to derive advantage from the
truths discovered by the economist. He would
inculcate on man his precepts protective of Society;
he would teach him abnegation and self-control.
He would say to him : Without doubt your wheat
is in great demand, and you can obtain such and
such a price for it; but think also of the evil you
will produce by using your right in its entire full-
ness. The moralist will be able to call to his aid
every other honest sentiment, capable of counterbal-
ancing selfishness, and in primitive times men did
not fail to appeal to the religious sentiment. The
conclusion must not be drawn from this division of
labor, this partition of powers, that the moralist
is above the economist; it suffices to recall the
fable once related to the Roman people on the
Aventine hill. Morality, even religion itself, may
be pushed beyond the limits which healthy reason
approves; they may become passionate and fanat-
ical at the expense of very high material interests,
and for the good of humanity, the two branches
of social science should exercise a perfectly equal
influence, and thus establish that equilibrium which
is the sign of health. — Many publicists cultivate
both sciences together, and combine political econ-
omy and morality; we are glad to be able to state
this, but all do not succeed equally well in this
combination of studies. MAURICE BLOCK.
SOCIETY. “Man,” says Aristotle in the be-
ginning of his “Politics,” “is a social being.”
This definition is in some sort the point of depart-
ture of political science. It destroys at once all
the false hypotheses which make society a mere
convention. It has been truly said that such a
convention presupposes the existence of a state of
society in some form, in order that men might be
able to come to an understanding with one an-
other. Besides, the state of isolation is impossible.
Man would not be able to exist in such a state.
The child could not live without the food and
care furnished by its mother, the woman could not
dispense with the protection and labor of the
man. Language, the bond of all Society, is born
with society and of society, and helps to maintain
and extend it. The definition of man as a Social
758.
SOCIETY.
being rests, therefore, on his most imperious
wants, on his most instinctive sympathies and on
his most invincible inclinations. Adam Smith
rightly remarks that man is the only being who
makes exchanges. Society, from a certain point
of view, is merely a series of exchanges, a perpet-
ual communication of material and moral benefits
which men hold with each other. To complete
the definition, or, rather, to give it all the clearness
and truth which it should receive, we must add,
that if man is born a social being, he unceasing-
ly becomes more social. The family, the tribe,
the nation, with its vast developments, mark the
different periods of society. A moment comes
when the division of mankind into nations gives
place to a sentiment which expresses sociability in
its highest degree; this sentiment is the sentiment
of humanity. Man, far from being a wolf to man,
homo homºn? lupus, according to the gloomy defi-
nition of Hobbes—adopted by all who see in so-
ciety an artificial and conventional fact—sees in
man a being worthy of his respect and his love,
an equal, a brother. Religion and philosophy,
by paths which are sometimes different and some-
times identical, lead to this sublime result, while
interest, properly understood, enjoins it on us
to be useful to others in view of reciprocity. —
Society implies associates. We can not, there-
fore, flatter ourselves that we know the object
of society without knowing first the nature of
the beings which are its elements. Society it-
self is but the medium and the means which
these beings make use of to develop themselves.
What are these individuals 2 Are they simple
units endowed with a vegetative or an animal
life, and obeying the laws of fatality ? No; they
are moral persons, that is to say, free, respon-
sible, whose destiny it is to develop and perfect
themselves and rise to the conception and practice
of the true and the good; having, in one word,
besides material life, a moral and intellectual life.
The special character of man, in this world, is to
be at once the most social and the most personal
of all beings. Is it the person which shall be
sacrificed to society, or society which shall aid in
the development of the individual? It would be
absurd to suppose that the diminution of that
‘which constitutes our dignity, our value, our very
being, should be the object or the result of the
association of our efforts, labors and mutual as-
sistance. In truth, the only object of society is to
give value to the individual. By society the in-
dividual must become more enlightened, more
powerful and more moral; society in turn will be
worth only what those who compose it are worth.
— Respect for every right, the practice of every
duty, the cultivation of every faculty, the develop-
ment of human nature ; such is the object of so-
ciety. Society is essentially favorable to the
growth, as it is absolutely necessary to the exercise
and the guarantee, of all our legitimate inclina-
tions. Thus, by it the family is ordered, property
protected and increased, the capital necessary to
civilization and material life increased, perpetuated
and transmitted. The object of institutions of
the civil and political order is to assure this reg-
ular development of each and all. But it is
important to remember that the state alone is
not charged with the attainment of this object.
The better part of human nature escapes the
State. Religion is no more an affair of state
than philosophy. And so with industry and com-
merce, as well as all the institutions intended to
favor Saving and to distribute wealth properly.
In like manner the various means of instruction
and education at the command of the individual
and the family, do not depend upon the state.
The state protects them, the law guarantees or
regulates their exercise, but all these things have
a proper and independent life of their own. Other-
wise Society would go contrary to its object. It
would be no longer established to favor but to sup-
press individual development. Instead of being
the putting in common of liberties respecting and
aiding one another, it would be slavery organized,
either by a powerful majority or a dominating
minority. — Political societies, in so far as they
are collective beings, reflect and reproduce every-
thing to be found in the nature of the individuals.
who compose them; only they reflect and repro-
duce it on a large scale, which has given rise to
the saying that Society is merely a big individual.
It is true that this has been said of the state also,
with truth in some respects, but still with much
less truth, for all that enters into society is far
from entering the state, as we have already seen.
Nothing prevents and everything commands us to
consider Society as a living whole. There are in
society collective rights and collective duties. It
has the right to be guaranteed, and the duty of re-
pressing evil and assisting the individual. This it.
does sometimes through the state, and sometimes
by means of free associations. In like manner
there is in society, as in the individual, an instinct
of preservation and an instinct of progress. The
one is attached to tradition, which is of a nature
to serve society eternally, or simply to everything
which has served it long. The instinct of progress.
walks in advance of all innovations, welcomes.
everything favorable to the ulterior development
of the human mind and of Society; it embraces the
future in its views and its hopes, as the instinct of
preservation adheres to the past and loves to keep.
itself within the limits of the present. These two
instincts, almost always at war, are both neces-
sary. They are completed, tempered and main-
tained by each other. From their collisions ter-
rible crises result, the more to be feared, since, if
one is devoted to routine, the other easily gives.
itself to adventure. But in spite of, and sometimes
by means of, these crises themselves, humanity
advances, launching itself toward the future, rest-
ing on the past, and making a starting point for
useful progress and dangerous innovations at the
cost of more than one laborious work of groping
and painful experience. This progress of Socie-
ties, demonstrated by the philosophy of history, a
theory which was framed by a number of writers,
SOUTH CAROLINA.
7.59
notably by Turgot and Condorcet, in the last
century, is scarcely denied in our day, although
the scope and extent of that progress are contin-
ually in dispute. Who doubts in our day that
modern society excels the Societies of antiquity
in justice and humanity, as well as in material
development ? Property more secure, better dis-
tributed, resting on labor as a foundation; the
family purified; slavery and serfdom abolished;
penalties more humane and more just; well-be-
ing increased; the sciences developed; the power
of right above brute force : are not these certain
results given by historical observation ?
amount of evil, whether it be free or fatal, dimin-
ishes, no matter how enduring and wide-spread
it may be ; the amount of good increases: such
is the visible revelation of Providence in his-
tory. Have we not here the most striking jus-
tification of society, the most incontestable proof
of its necessity and its benefits? (See CIVILIZA-
TION, SOCIAL SCIENCE, SOCIALISM.)
HENRI BAUDRILLART.
SOUTH CAROLINA, one of the thirteen orig-
inal states of the American Union. — BOUNDA-
RIES. The triangular shape of the state, and its
natural boundary by the Atlantic on the east,
leave but two boundaries to be fixed, on the north
and on the west. The former was tacitly fixed
about 1698, and more formally in 1732 (see North
CAROLINA), and was run by the two states in 1764,
1772 and 1813. The latter led to a boundary suit
between Georgia and South Carolina before the
congress of the confederation, which was settled
in 1787 by a cession to Georgia of South Carolina's
claims west of the Savannah and the Tugaloo
branch of it. The latter state then proceeded to
cede to the United States her “other” claims west
of a north and South line from the head of the
Tugaloo, but this, as it proved, was a distance of
but twelve miles. (See TERRITORIES.) — CONSTI-
TUTIONS. The constitutional history of the col-
ony is bound up with that of North Carolina
until about 1700. In 1719 the people revolted
against the proprietors, and established a tempo-
rary government of their own; and, in accordance
with their wish, South Carolina became a royal
colony until the revolution. The crown appointed
the governor; the governor appointed the upper
house, or council, and retained a veto power; and
the people elected the lower house. The opening
years of the revolution were marked by constant
conflicts between the governor, Sir William Camp-
bell, and the legislature, so that the legislature
was almost constantly prorogued. July 6, 1774,
the first popular convention met, and chose dele-
gates to congress; and, Jan. 11, 1775, a provincial
congress met, which practically assumed the pow-
ers of government. March 26, 1776, it adopted the
first constitution of the state. The lower house,
or general assembly, was to be chosen by the
people annually, in fixed apportionments to each
parish; it was to choose the upper house, or coun-
cil of thirteen members; and the two were to
The
cation.
choose the president [governor] and vice presi-
dent.
house.
The congress made itself the first lower
Two peculiar provisions are that the pres-
ident was to have no power to make war, peace
or treaties, without the consent of the legislature;
and that “the resolutions of the continental con-
gress, now of force in this colony, shall so continue
until altered or revoked by them.” (See STATE
SovieFEIGNTY.)— March 17, 1778, an act of the
legislature put a new constitution in force after
Nov. 29. It ordained that “the style of this
country” should be the state of South Carolina;
gave the governor a term of two years,and forbade
his re-election; changed the names of the houses
to senate and house of representatives, and made
them both chosen by the people; left out the sec-
tion as to national Supremacy; and established
freedom of incorporation to all societies “pro-
fessing the Christian Protestant religion.”— June
3, 1790, a more elaborate constitution was framed
by a popular convention, without popular ratifi-
It omitted the treaty clause ; made the
right of suffrage dependent on a freehold of £50
or a tax of three shillings; recognized slavery by
requiring for representatives a qualification of
£150, or 500 acres and ten negroes; and omitted
all religious restrictions. It was amended in 1808,
1810, 1816, 1820, 1828, 1834, 1856, and 1861, the
first, the great compromise described hereafter,
being the only important change. — A new consti-
tution was formed by a convention Sept. 13–27,
1865, without popular ratification. Its main
changes were that it gave the governor a term of
four years, and made him eligible by popular vote;
gave the right of suffrage to free white males over
twenty-one, on two years' residence; forbade
slavery, “slaves in South Carolina having been
emancipated by the action of the United States
authorities”; and forbade the legislature to inflict
punishment of any kind for participation in the
rebellion. — The reconstruction convention at
Charleston, Jan. 14 – March 17, 1868, framed a
new constitution, which was ratified by popu-
lar vote, April 14–16. It declared that all men
were free and equal; that their paramount alle-
giance was due to the United States; that the state
should forever remain in the Union, and resist
with its whole power every attempt to dissolve it;
and that all classes of citizens should enjoy equally
all common, public, legal and political privileges.
The compromise of 1808 (hereafter detailed) was
omitted, and the legislature was to be chosen ac-
cording to population, the house for two years,
the senate for four. Every male over twenty-one
was given the right of suffrage, except that no
one prohibited from holding office by the 14th
amendment was to vote or hold office until his
disabilities were removed. Debt contracted in aid
of rebellion was repudiated. Presidential electors
were to be chosen by the people, though the fed.
eral constitution directs them to be chosen in such
manner as the legislature may direct. — GovIRN-
ORs: John Rutledge, 1776–8; Rawlins Lowndes,
1778–9; John Rutledge, 1779–82; John Matthews,
760
SOUTH CAROLINA,
1782–3 ; Benjamin Guerard, 1783–5; William
Moultrie, 1785–7; Thomas Pinckney, 1787–9;
Charles Pinckney, 1789–92; Arnoldus Vander-
horst, 1792–4; William Moultrie, 1794–6; Charles
Pinckney, 1796–8; Edward Rutledge, 1798–1800;
John Drayton, 1800–2; James B. Richardson,
1802–4; Paul Hamilton, 1804–6; Charles Pinck-
ney, 1806–8; John Drayton, 1808–10; Henry Mid-
dleton, 1810–12; Joseph Allston, 1812–14; David
R. Williams, 1814–16; Andrew Pickens, 1816–18;
John Geddes, 1818–20; Thomas Bennett, 1820–22;
John L. Wilson, 1822–4; Richard I. Manning,
1824–6; John Taylor, 1826–8; Stephen D. Miller,
1828–30 ; James Hamilton, 1830–32; Robert Y.
Hayne, 1832–4; George M’Duffie, 1834–6; Pierce
M. Butler, 1836–8, Patrick Noble, 1838–40; John
P. Richardson, 1840–42; James H. Hammond,
1842–4; William Aiken, 1844–6 ; David Johnson,
1846–8; W. B. Seabrook, 1848–50; John H. Means,
1850–52; John L. Manning, 1852–4; James H.
Adams, 1854–6; R. F. W. Allston, 1856-8; Will-
iam H. Gist, 1858–60 ; Francis W. Pickens, 1860
–2; M. L. Bonham, 1862–4; A. G. Magrath, 1864
–5; Benj. F. Perry, provisional, 1865; James L.
Orr, 1865–8; Robert K. Scott, 1868–72; Franklin
J. Moses, 1872–5; Daniel H. Chamberlain, 1875–7;
Wade Hampton, 1877–9; William D. Simpson,
1879–81 ; Johnson Hagood, 1881–3; Hugh S.
Thompson, 1883–5. — The state is popularly
known as the ‘‘palmetto state,” from a local
dwarf palm, the most northern variety of the
order. It has always been a favorite emblem for
state flags, etc. The capital of the state is Colum-
bia. — PoliticAL HISTORY. For a long time
South Carolina was divided into two quite distinct
geographical and political divisions by the line
across the middle of the state formed by the falls
of the great rivers. The lower, coast or cotton
country, from the falls to the seaboard, was the
original colony, settled mainly by English Episco-
palians, with a considerable percentage of French
Huguenots; the upper country, from the falls to
the mountains, was settled mainly by immigrants
from the states to the northward, with a consid-
erable percentage of Scotch and Scotch-Irish im-
migrants. But a more essential difference was
in the distribution of the slave population. From
the beginning it fell more heavily toward the
coast. In 1840, of the 196,222 slaves in the state,
129,814 were in the lower country, and 66,408
in the upper country; and, of the 267,860 whites,
150,994 were in the upper country, and 116,366 in
the lower country. The segregation of interests, in
its final development, may be seen in the follow-
ing table of white and slave population, compiled
from the census of 1860. Class A is the tier of
districts or counties impinging, directly on the
sea, and including the sea-island cotton district;
class B is the tier next to the preceding; and class
C is the extreme northern tier; the intermediate
districts are more evenly balanced, and are not
considered. In all three classes the districts are
arranged in order, from west to east, to the North
Carolina boundary.

CLASS A. White Slave.
1. Beaufort -------------- 6,714 32,530
2. Colleton--------------- 9,255 32,307
3. Charleston ------------ 29,136 37,290
4. Georgetown ----------- 3,01 18,109
5. Horry ------ - - - - - - - - - - - 5,564 2,359
CLASS B.
1. Barnwell -------------- 12,702 17,401
2. Orangeburgh ---------- 8,108 16,583
3. Clarendon------------. 4,378 8,566
4. Williamsburgh -------- 5,187 10,259
5. Sumter---------------- 6,857 16,682
6. Darlington ------------ 8,421 11,877
7. Marion ---------------- 11,007 9,951
CLASS C.
1. Pickens --------------- 15,335 4,195
2. Anderson ------------- 14,286 8,425
3. Greenville ------------- 14,631 7:049
4. Spartanburgh --------- 18,537 8,240
5. Union.----------------- 8,670 10,801
6. York ------------------ 11,329 9,984
Geological reasons account for the few variations
from the general rule in the table. The upper
country, on the democratic principle, had the
power to tax, and the lower country the property
liable to taxation. The compromise by which the
two were reconciled is altogether the most inter-
esting feature in the history of the state before
1860. — Before the revolution the upper country
had comparatively little intercourse with the lower
country, and hardly any political power. During
the revolution it was one of the strongholds of
the tory party of the state, and political power
was carefully conserved by the lower country.
This design will explain the first constitutions of
the state, in which the number of delegates in the
lower house was so apportioned to the districts as
to give control to the lower country; and the
choice of other state officers was given to the legis-
lature. As soon, however, as state politics settled
down into orderly development, it became evident
that no such unilateral arrangement could be per-
manent. The tendency to the formation of a
white democracy, in which the property of the
lower country would be at the mercy of the popu-
lation of the upper country, was so strong, and
created so much angry feeling, that, in 1807, a
compromise was agreed upon, and, in 1808, it was
ratified as a part of the constitution. Its provis-
ions will be found in Calhoun’s works, as cited
below. In brief, it fixed the number of members
of the lower house at 124, 62 representing white
population, and 62 taxation. Every ten years the
white population and the taxes paid for ten years
past were to be ascertained; and each district was
to be entitled, for the next ten years, to one repre-
sentative for each sixty-second part of either the
total white population, or the total amount of
taxes paid. In this way any undue exercise of
taxing power by the upper country would remedy
itself; for it would, for the next ten years, increase
the representation of the districts on which undue
taxes should be levied. To whatever the result
is to be ascribed, to this compromise or to the in-
crease of slaveholding influence, it is certain, that,
,”
from 1808 until the overthrow of this compromise
by the reconstruction constitution of 1868, there
were really no separate parties in the state, and
no bitterness of party conflict. — The formation
of the federalist and anti-federalist party division
in 1787–8 brought about a curious contradiction
to previous history. Many of the leaders of the
lower country, who had been ardent whigs during
the revolution, had been educated in England,
retained no abiding animosity to that country,
and, as they represented commercial interests,
were federalists by nature, even though the policy
of their party might lead to friendship with Great
Britain. On the contrary, the spirit of local inde-
pendence, and a general opposition to the lower
country, made the rest of the state as warmly
anti-federalist. The division is plainly shown in
the vote in the legislature on calling a conven-
tion to consider the constitution in 1788. Of the
twenty-nine districts or parishes in the state, only
five were divided : the parishes on the coast were
as generally unanimous in favor of calling the con-
vention as the parishes in the upper country were
unanimous against it. The convention was only
called at last by a vote of 76 to 75. In the con-
vention the constitution was ratified, May 23, 1788,
by a vote of 149 to 73. The division in the vote
was not so striking as in the convention, seven-
teen parishes or districts being now divided; but
the line of division was still very perceptible. —
For some years after the adoption of the constitu-
tion the federalists retained a general control of
the state, due rather to their wealth and ability
than to their numbers. They gave three great
leaders to the national federal party: Charles
Cotesworth Pinckney (see his name); and William
Smith and Robert G. Harper, two of the ablest
congressional debaters of their party. When
the legislature came to choose electors in 1792,
they obtained the second votes of seven of the
'state's eight electors for John Adams. Before
another presidential election the opposition had
fairly taken form, and in 1796 the eight electors
voted for Jefferson and Thomas Pinckney. In
1800, when the battle between federalists and dem-
Ocrats had become general and defined, the popu-
larity of Charles C. Pinckney in his own state gave
him the federalist support for vice-president. (See
CAUCUS, CONGRESSIONAL.) The democrats in the
legislature offered to compromise by choosing elect-
ors pledged to Jefferson and Pinckney, and this,
as it afterward proved, would have made Pinckney
vice-president, instead of Burr. An indiscreet let-
ter, written by Adams, and censuring Pinckney's
public conduct, had recently come to light, and
would have been a fair excuse to an ordinary poli-
tician for abandoning Adams. But Pinckney re-
jected the compromise, and stood by his colleague;
and both fell together. The legislature chose elect-
ors, who voted for Jefferson and Burr; and this
was the deciding state. — From this time the state,
in national politics, was a unit, its small federal-
ist element disappearing after its first great defeat.
In State politics the only element of discord was
SOUTH CAROLINA.
761
removed by the compromise of 1808. For half a
century the political history of the state is an ab-
solute blank, with the single exception of the nulli-
fication contest. (See NULLIFICATION.) In that
struggle the nullification leaders were Calhoun,
Senator Hayne, Gov. Hamilton, Preston (after-
ward senator), M’Duffie and Hammond (afterward
governors), and Rhett. The “Union party’ was
led by Poinsett, Huger, Petigru, Legaré, Grimké,
Drayton, Memminger, and others; but it must be
remembered that the Union party generally by no
means denied the right to secede, only the right
to disobey the laws of the Union, while remaining
in the Union. And, further, the opposition of
nullifiers, like Calhoun and Preston, to the Jack-
son school of national democratic leaders, was a
reason for their being often classed as whigs until
1843–4. (See WHIG PARTY, II.) In fact, men of
all parties in the state were generally ultra demo-
crats, secessionists in ultimate theory, and differ-
ing in practice only. — After the termination of
the nullification struggle the state remained in
political repose until 1860. For ten years before
that date she was ready to secede at any time upon
a promise of support by one or more other states.
In 1860, having secured the desired assurances, the
state seceded, and became one of the confederate
states. (See SECESSION, CONFEDERATE STATES.)
With a voting population of 47,000 in 1860, she fur-
nished 60,000 soldiers to the confederate armies,
and at the close of the rebellion was well nigh ex-
hausted. The marks of the exhaustion are still
visible in the census of 1870, in which the state
shows a slight decrease of white population since
1860, in spite of five years' recuperation. Alabama
is the only other seceding state which shows the
same indication. — In May, 1865, some feeble ef-
forts at self-assertion by the state government were
suppressed by the federal authorities, and Benj. F.
Perry was appointed provisional governor, June
30. Under his guidance the convention of 1865,
which rescinded the ordinance of secession, was
held, a constitution adopted, and a governor and
legislature elected. The new legislature met Oct.
25, and the new governor was inaugurated Nov.
29. The state government ratified the 13th amend-
ment, and a code of laws permitting and regu-
lating apprenticeship of laborers until the age of
twenty-one in males and eighteen in females, and
specifying the rights and duties of employers and
employed. At the following session of the legis-
lature an effort was made to remove the dislike of
the negroes to the “black code” by the passage
of a bill giving all civil rights, to sue and be sued,
etc., to the freedmen; but the 14th amendment was
rejected. — Under the reconstruction act (see RE-
CoNSTRUCTION), Maj. Gen. D. E. Sickles was ap-
pointed military governor March 11, 1867. He
was removed Aug. 26, and was succeeded by Maj.
Gen. E. R. S. Canby. The registration showed
78,982 colored and 46,346 white voters. A con-
vention was ordered by overwhelming votes, the
state constitution of 1868 was adopted, and the
state was readmitted, June 25. The new state
762
SOUTH CAROLINA.
officers had all been nominated by the convention
which framed the constitution, sitting as a repub-
lican nominating convention. Four of them, Gov.
Scott, the state treasurer, N. G. Parker, the comp-
troller general, J. J. Neagle, and the attorney
general, D. H. Chamberlain, were northern men,
or “carpet-baggers”; the secretary of state, F. L.
Cardozo, was a native freedman; and the adjutant
general, F. J. Moses, was a native white. One of
them, Moses, has since been imprisoned in New
York for theft; all of them, with the exception of
their ablest member, Chamberlain, seem to have
been personally and shamelessly dishonest. The
legislature, composed mainly of freedmen, with-
out property, education, political experience, or
sense of responsibility, was probably the most
openly corrupt legislative body that ever held ses-
sions in the United States. Details of its proceed-
ings would be tedious and useless; they can be
most easily reached in Pike's work, cited below.
One instance will be sufficient: the state debt was
officially reported in 1868 at $5,407,306.27; in 1872
at $17,557,000; and in 1873 at $20,333,901.10. In
1871 a legislative investigating committee reported
that the state officers had over-issued bonds and
defrauded the state to the amount of $6,314,000;
but the legislature, by a large majority, refused to
impeach them. One defaulting official defied a
legislative committee to indict him, unless the leg-
islature should first pass a bill to enlarge the pen-
itentiary, since he intended to take at least half
of them thither with him. — Ku-klux outrages in
the state seem to have fairly begun in 1870, though
they were alleged to have taken place previously.
In 1871 they had become a prominent feature in
elections (see KU-KLUX KLAN), but were unsuc-
cessful in their object of suppressing the negro
vote. In 1874 came the first sign of defeat for the
dominant party: a part of it refused to support
the regular nominations, and the nominations of
this faction were supported by the democrats, and
defeated by a much smaller majority than usual.
In 1876 came the final struggle between property
and population for the control of the state. From
the beginning it was marked by hardly suppressed
disorder. Massacres of negroes took place at sev-
eral points, in one of which, at Hamburgh, July
9, the assaulting party of whites was led by a negro
justice of the peace. Nov. 21, the returning board
declared the republican presidential electors suc-
cessful by an average vote of 91,672 to 90,856;
most of the republican candidates for state offices
successful by very similar votes; and no party
majority in the lower house of the legislature,
owing to the board’s refusal to give any certificates
for Edgefield and Laurens counties, where fraud
and violence were charged. In the Senate there
was a small but undisputed republican majority.
On the meeting of the legislature, which was to
canvass the votes for governor, Gov. Chamber-
lain used federal troops to exclude the Edgefield
and Laurens members from the state house. There-
upon they, with the other democratic members,
sixty-four in all, formed one house, and the fifty-
nine republican members another. Dec. 5, the
Senate and the republicans declared Chamberlain
elected, casting out the vote of the two counties
above named; a week later the democratic house,
with part of the senate, declared Wade Hampton
elected. Hampton obtained the office in April
following. (See INSURRECTION, II.) — Since 1877
there has been practically no republican opposition
in state elections, nor, generally, in congressional
elections. In 1882 one republican congressman
was seated after a contest. In the presidential elec-
tion of 1880, 58,071 republican to 112,312 demo-
cratic votes were cast. In the legislature of 1882
the republicans have but two senators out of
thirty-four, and five representatives out of 124.
How long this state of affairs can last is a difficult
question. One answer to it may perhaps be the
restoration in some form, by common consent, of
the venerable compromise of 1808, which was
abrogated in 1868. The effort to exclude property
representation altogether has resulted in the entire
exclusion of the popular majority from power: an
equitable division of power between the two might
possibly solve the problem. — The roll of South.
Carolina names which have reached exceptional
distinction in American politics is very large. The
most distinguished are those of Calhoun and C.
C. Pinckney. (See their names.) Others are as
follows, democrats unless otherwise specified :
William Aiken, governor 1844–6, congressman
1851–7; R. W. Barnwell, congressman 1829–33,
United States Senator 1850–51, and a member of
the confederate states senate 1862–5; M. L. Bon-
ham, congressman 1857–60, brigadier general in
the confederate army, confederate congressman
1861–2, and governor 1862–4; Preston S. Brooks
(see his name); AEdanus Burke, state judge and
chancellor 1778–1802, and congressman 1789–91
(see CINCINNATI); Armistead Burt, congressman
1843–53; Andrew P. Butler, state judge 1835–46,
and United States senator 1846–57; M. C. Butler,
major general in the confederate army, and United
States senator 1877–87; Langdon Cheves, con-
gressman 1811–15 (see DEMOCRATIC PARTY, III.),
and president of the bank of the United States
in 1819; William Drayton, congressman 1825–33;
William Henry Drayton, state judge and chief
justice 1771–7, and author of a widely circu-
lated whig charge to a grand jury in April, 1776;
Christopher Gadsden, a revolutionary leader, del-
egate to the stamp act congress in 1765, and to
the continental congress 1774–6; John Gaillard,
United States senator 1805–26, and president of
the senate 1814–19 and 1820–25; James Hamilton,
congressman 1823–9, and governor 1830–32 (see
NULLIFICATION); James H. Hammond, Congress-
man 1835–6, governor 1842–4, United States sen-
ator 1857–60, and an ultra pro-slavery author and
debater; Wade Hampton, governor 1876–9, and
United States senator 1879–85; R. G. Harper, fed-
eralist congressman 1795–1801 (see MARYLAND);
Robert Y. Hayne, attorney general 1818–22, United
States senator 1823–32, and governor 1832–4 (see
NULLIFICATION); Ralph Izard, commissioner to
SOWEREIGNTY.
763
Tuscany 1777–9, delegate to congress 1781–3, and
United States senator 1789–95; Lawrence M. Keitt,
congressman 1853–60 (see BROOKs, P. S.), killed
at Cold Harbor in 1864; Henry Laurens, delegate
to congress 1777–80, minister to Holland 1780–81,
and one of the negotiators in 1782–3; Hugh S.
Legaré, attorney general 1830–32, chargé at Brus-
sels 1832–6, congressman 1837–9, and attorney
general under Tyler; William Lowndes, congress-
man 1811–22 (see DEMOCRATIC PARTY, III.);
George M’Duffie, congressman 1821–34, governor
1834–6, and United States senator 1843–6; John
McQueen, congressman 1849–60, and confederate
congressman 1862–4; Charles G. Memminger, con-
federate secretary of the treasury, 1861–4; Arthur
Middleton, delegate to congress 1776–8 and 1781–3;
Henry Middleton (son of the preceding), governor
1810–12, congressman 1815–19, and minister to
Russia 1820–30; James L. Orr, congressman 1849–
59, confederate senator 1862–5, governor (repub-
lican) 1865–8, and minister to Russia 1872–3; Fran-
cis W. Pickens, congressman 1834–43, minister to
Russia 1858–60, and governor 1860–62; Charles
Pinckney, delegate to congress 1777–8 and 1784–7,
and to the convention of 1787, governor 1789–92,
1796–8 and 1806–8, United States senator 1797–
1801, minister to Spain 1803–5, and congressman
1819–21 (see ELECTORs); Joel R. Poinsett, con-
gressman 1821–5, minister to Mexico 1825–9, and
secretary of war under Van Buren; Wm. C. Pres-
ton, United States senator 1833–42, president of
the college of South Carolina, and an eloquent
speaker; Robert Barnwell Rhett (name changed in
1837 from Smith to Rhett, to obtain a legacy),
congressman 1837–49, U. S. Senator 1851–2, and a
leader in secession; Edward Rutledge, delegate to
congress 1774–7, and governor 1798–1800; John
Rutledge, delegate to congress 1774–7 and 1782–3,
governor 1776–8 and 1779–82, justice of the U. S.
supreme court 1789–91, and appointed chief justice
in 1795, but not confirmed by the senate because
of his intemperate opposition to Jay's treaty; Will-
iam Smith, federalist congressman 1789–97, and
minister to Portugal 1797–1801; Thomas Sumter,
a famous partisan leader in the revolution, con-
gressman 1789–93 and 1797–1801, and United States
senator 1801–10; Waddy Thompson, congressman
1835–41, and minister to Mexico 1842–4; and James
L. Trenholm, confederate secretary of the treasury
1864–5.— See authorities under NORTH CAROLINA,
GEORGIA, NULLIFICATION, SECESSION, RECON-
STRUCTION; 2 Poore's Federal and State Constitu-
tions; Lawson's History of Carolina (to 1714); 2
Force's Tracts; Carroll's Historical Collections of
South Carolina (to 1776); Gibbes' Documentary
History of the Revolution, chiefly in South Carolina,
(1764–82); Drayton's Memoirs of the Revolution, as
'relating to South Carolina (1821); Rivers' Early
History of South Carolina, Ramsay’s History of
South Carolina; Chase's Life of Lowndes; 6 Cal-
houn’s Works, 254; 1 Olmstead’s Cotton Kingdom,
206; Simms' History of South Carolina (continued
to 1860); Pike's The Prostrate State (1873).
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON,
SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY. (See CoN-
FEDERATE STATES.)
SOWEREIGNTY. I. The Idea of Sovereignty.
The state is the embodiment and personification
of the power of the people. The power of the
people in its highest dignity and greatest force is
sovereignty. — The word sovereignty originated
in France, and the idea of sovereignty was for the
first time developed by French science. Bodin
raised it to the dignity of the fundamental idea.
of public or constitutional law. Since his time
the word sovereignty and the idea have exercised
a great influence on the entire development of the
constitution of modern states as well as on poli-
tics. – During the middle ages the expression
souveral neté (suprema potestas) was used in a still
wider sense. Every board or authority competent
to give a final decision, so that an appeal to a
higher authority was impossible after such decis-
ion, was called a sovereign board. The highest
courts of justice were called cours Souveraines.
Thus there were a great number of sovereign offi-
ces and corporations within the state. But grad-
ually this name ceased to be given to mere offices
and positions in the different branches of the ad-
ministration, and it was finally given only to the
highest power in the state, the power which con-
trolled the whole. Hence the idea of sovereignty
came to have a higher meaning, and to signify the
concentrated fullness of political power or of the
power of the state. The definition of the term
sovereignty was controlled completely by the cen-
tralizing tendency of French politics, beginning
with the sixteenth century, and by the struggle of
the French kings for absolute power. Bodin had
explained sovereignty as absolute, perpetual polit-
ical power (puissance absolue et perpétuelle d’une
Tépublique). Sovereignty was subsequently un-
derstood in this absolute sense. Not only Louis
XIV., who called himself the state, but even the
Jacobin convention of the French republic of
1793, attributed omnipotent political power to it-
self, as Louis had to himself. Both were wrong
in doing so. The modern representative state
knows nothing of absolute political power; and
absolute independence does not exist anywhere on
earth. Neither political freedom, nor the rights
of the other organs and component parts of the
state, are compatible with such unlimited sover-
eignty; and whenever men have sought to exer-
cise it, history has condemned such usurpation.
The state itself, as a whole, does not possess Such
omnipotence ; for even the state is limited exter-
nally by the right of other states, and internally
by its own nature, by the rights of its members,
and those of the individuals within the state. —
The characteristics of sovereignty are : 1. The
independence of the power of the state of all
superordinated political or state authority. Even
this independence is to be understood as relative,
and not as absolute. International law, which
binds all states together by common rights, is no
more in conflict with the Sovereignty of States
764
SOWEREIGNTY.
than is constitutional law, which limits the exer-
cise of the power of the state within the bounda-
ries of the state. This renders it possible for cer-
tain territorial states to be still considered sover-
eign states, although in essential things, as for
instance, in their foreign policy, etc., they are
dependent on the greater aggregate state. 2. The
highest political or state dignity, or what the an-
cient political language of Rome understood by
the term majestas. 3. The plenitude of political
or state power in contradistinction to mere partial
authority. Sovereignty is not the sum of separate
special rights, but the political aggregate right ; it
is a central idea with an energy similar to that of
property in private law. 4. Further, the sover-
eign power is, by virtue of its nature, the supreme
power in the state. Hence it follows, that no
other political power within the state can be su-
perordinated to it. The French seigneurs of the
middle ages ceased to be sovereign when they
were again compelled to subordinate themselves
to their liege lord, the king, in all the essential re-
lations of political independence and rank. The
German electoral princes, after the fourteenth
century, were able to claim sovereignty in their
territories, because they really possessed, in their
own right, the supreme political authority within
the same. 5. The state being an organized body,
the unity of sovereignty is accordingly a requisite
of its well-being. The partition of sovereignty
leads in its consequences to the paralysis or disso-
lution of the state, and hence is not compatible
with the health of the state.—II. State Sovereignty
(Popular Sovereignty) and Regent Sovereignty. To
whom does sovereignty belong 2 The different
political parties are inclined to answer this ques-
tion in an entirely different sense, and science also
has to remove many kinds of obstacles, and to
overcome many prejudices, before it can succeed
in reaching a simple and true solution of the
question. — 1. A widely spread opinion, particu-
larly since the time of Rousseau and the French
revolution, answers: To the people ; and declares
itself in favor of the principle of the so-called
sovereignty of the people. But we must first in-
quire, What does this opinion understand by the
“people”? By the “people” some understand
simply the sum total of the individuals who find
themselves brought together in the state ; that is,
they, in thought, resolve the state into its elements,
and attribute the highest power to the inorganic
mass, or the majority of these individuals. This
extremely radical opinion is manifestly in contra-
diction with the existence of the state, which is
the foundation of sovereignty. Hence it is not
compatible with the constitution of any state, not
even with absolute democracy, of which it pre-
tends to be the foundation ; for even in an abso-
lute democracy it is the regular assembly of the
people, and not the atomized multitude, that exer-
cises the state power. — 2. Still others under-
stand by “people” the collective, equal citizens
of the state, who, assembled in commonalties,
give expression to their will ; that is, they under-
stand by people the Sovereignty of the demos, in
democracy. When limited to this form of the
state, the principle of popular sovereignty, thus
understood, has certainly some sense and truth in
it; it is then literally synonymous with democracy.
But even in the case of representative democracy
the principle loses its application in great part, be-
cause in the regular action of the state the supreme
power is not exercised directly by the citizens,
but indirectly by their representatives. The prin-
ciple is entirely incompatible with all other forms
of the state on which it makes the strange claim
that the head of the state should place himself on
an equality with the meanest citizen, and that
those governing, being the minority, should subor-
dinate themselves to the governed, or the majority.
In the body politic this principle assigns to the
feet the place of the head, and to the head the
place of the feet. — 3. It sometimes happens
that the two opinions are not sharply distinguished
from one another, but that they fade one into the
other. The One is anarchical, the other absolute-
democratic. Their defenders, however, maintain
the universal validity of both. Yet the danger of
this theory consists precisely in the fact, that its
recognition presupposes and demands in principle
the complete overthrow of all other forms of the
state, with the sole exception of direct democracy,
and the transformation of the former into the lat-
ter. — This opinion, accordingly, has been advo-
cated by decidedly antagonistic parties, but still
(if indeed consciously) only by those who were
dissatisfied with the existing political organization
or government, and strove to undermine and over-
throw it. Hence it became a terrific weapon of
destruction in the hand of the French revolution.
Even the national assembly, in its declaration of
war of April 20, 1792, officially proclaimed Rous-
seau's theory: “The French nation has undoubt-
edly declared, that sovereignty belongs only to
the people, who, limited in the exercise of its
highest will by the rights of succeeding genera-
tions, can not confer any irrevocable power; the
nation frankly acknowledges, that no tradition,
no legal decree, no declaration, no contract, can
subject the society of men to any authority in
such a manner that the nation should no longer
have the right of revoking such power. Every
people has alone the power to give itself its laws,
and the inalienable right of changing its laws.
This right, in its fullest extent, belongs either to
no one or to all.” The subsequent convention dis-
closed the further consequences of this principle
after the destruction of the monarchy. But even
in our own days we have heard the proclamation
of the same principle at the Paris Hôtel de Ville.
In February, 1848, the constitutional monarchy
was abolished, the republic proclaimed, and the
dictatorship of an improvised government ap-
pointed by a similar sovereign act of the excited
Parisian population. In an official declaration
drawn up by Lamartine himself, we read: “Every
Frenchman who has reached the age of manhood
is a citizen of the state, and every citizen is a voter.
SOWEREIGNTY.
765
Every voter is a sovereign. The law is equal, and
is absolute for all. No citizen can say to another:
You are sovereign to a greater extent than I; con-
sider well your power; be prepared to exercise it;
and be worthy of taking possession of your lord-
ship.”—4. The endeavors of certain French states-
men to oppose to this ruinous idea of the sovereign-
ty of the people (an idea which either destroys all
constitutional and public law, in order to give a
foundation to the majesty of the state, or which
transforms all states into democracies) the idea of
a sovereignty of reason and justice, were indeed
well meant, but they did not prove satisfacto-
ry. By appealing to either reason or justice they
thought they could do away with the abuse which
the people might make of its sovereignty. This
notion, however, overlooks the fact that the right
belongs only to the person, but sovereignty only
to a political personality, by which it must be
exercised according to the principles of reason
and justice. To the error which recognizes in
absolute democracy the only fundamental form
of the state, we thus find opposed here another
error, the error of idiocracy, with its well-meant
intention of guiding the majority of the people
by the supremacy of an idea. But this contra-
diction remains without result, because the power
of personality is stronger than any fiction. — 5.
Another opinion calls the mation, considered as a
unit, and as capable of organization, even if it be
not yet organized or only insufficiently organized,
with its instincts, its language and its social differ-
ences, the people, and ascribes to the nation the
right to change the form of the state at its pleas-
ure. A nation has a tendency to constitute itself
into a people, and hence into a state (see NATION-
ALITIES, PRINCIPLE OF); and therefore we must
admit that the germs of sovereignty lie in the na-
tion, and that the nation has a tendency to develop
sovereignty out of them; but that it shall develop
sovereignty is only a possibility. (See NATION.)
Popular sovereignty, in this sense, or, more cor-
rectly, national sovereignty, is accordingly an un-
ripe, undeveloped, ante-state idea, which had to
await the actual growth of states in order to be-
come realized in a state form. — 6. But in a po-
litical sense we may and even must understand by
people, the ordered aggregate of head and mem-
bers which we recognize as the living soul of the
personality of the state. In so far as the state ap-
pears as a person, independence, the highest hon-
Or, the plenitude of power, supreme authority,
and unity, that is, sovereignty, undoubtedly be-
long to it. The state as a person is sovereign.
Hence this sovereignty is called the sovereignty
of the state. Sovereignty does not exist before
the state, nor outside the state, nor above the
state ; it is the power and majesty of the state
itself. It is the right of the whole; and as cer-
tainly as the whole is more powerful than any
part of that whole, just as certainly is the sover-
eignty of the whole state superior to the sover-
eignty of a single member within the state. If,
through the strife of parties, language had not
| been distorted, it would seem perfectly legitimate
to call state sovereignty, as here defined, the sover-
eignty of the people, understanding by “people,”
not a loose multitude of individuals, but the politi-
cally organized whole, in which the head holds the
highest position and has the highest duty to per-
form, and in which every individual fills the place
and performs the task best suited to his nature. In
this sense French publicists have called this sover-
eignty Souveraineté de la mation. But nowadays
this designation would be liable to the most deplor-
able misunderstandings, and for this reason we
have preferred the unequivocal expression state
sovereignty. This state sovereignty manifests itself
both externally and internally; externally as the
self-dependence and independence of every single
state in respect to every other single state, and in
relation of the secular power to the church; inter-
nally it manifests itself as the legislative power of
the whole body of the people. In this sense the
English are wont to ascribe sovereignty to their par-
liament, at the head of which is the king, and which
represents the whole people. Yet this is not a pe-
culiarity of English constitutional law, but a fun-
damental view of the constitutions of modern rep-
resentative states in general, a view which does,
indeed, regard the prince as the head, and for that
very reason as a member of the people, and which
ascribes the highest actual exercise of sovereignty,
legislation, not to the head alone, but to the head
in connection with the representative body, in
other words, to the whole body of the state. The
patrimonial doctrine of the state, which regards
the state as the property of the prince, and hence
attributes sovereignty only to the prince, and the
absolutist doctrine of the state, which identifies
the state with the prince, and thus looks upon
state sovereignty as princely sovereignty, alike
ignore the important principle that all the power
of the prince is essentially only the concentrated
and condensed power of the people, and that the
people and the state continue a legal entity despite
the downfall of princes and the extinction of dy-
nasties. –7. Besides this sovereignty dwelling in
the whole body of the state or of the people, there
is also within the state a sovereignty of the head of
the state, to wit, the sovereignty of the ruler, or,
because it is most apparent in monarchy, what is
called the sovereignty of the prince. In relation
to all other single members of the organism of the
state, and in relation to individual citizens of the
state, the supreme head of the nation possesses the
highest power and occupies the highest position—a
power and position which properly belong to him.
Thus, in English constitutional law, the king is in
a special manner styled sovereign. Thus, too, in
every monarchical state, sovereignty is ascribed to
the monarch as such. There is, however, no con-
tradiction between state sovereignty and the sov-
ereignty of the prince, above referred to. Sover-
eignty is not divided, from the fact that one-half
is given to the people, and the other to the prince.
Their relation is not that of two jealous powers,
struggling for supremacy. In both there is unity
766
SOVEREIGNTY.
and plenitude of power; but it is manifest that the
^phole, in which the head, in accordance with its
highest position in the body politic, is included,
is superordinated even to the head considered in
itself alone and apart from the whole. The whole
people (the state) makes the law, but within its
limits the head of the state moves with complete
freedom in the exercise of the supreme power that
belongs to him. State sovereignty is chiefly the
sovereignty of the law; the sovereignty of the
prince is chiefly that of government. Where the
former is at rest, the latter is active. A real con-
flict can not easily take place between them; a
conflict between them at all points is, in principle,
not possible; for such a conflict would be the con-
flict of the supreme head considered in itself alone
with the supreme head in connection with the re-
maining members of the state; that is, it would
suppose a conflict of the same person with him-
self. While thus there is no conceivable peace
between the democratic sovereignty of the people
and the sovereignty of the prince, and while the
one must necessarily subjugate and abolish the
other, there exists between the sovereignty of the
state and the sovereignty of the prince the same
harmony that exists between the whole man and
his head. — III. What the Sovereignty of the State
includes. 1. The people, politically organized,
the state, has first of all, a right to the recognition
of, and respect for, its dignity and supremacy; or,
as the Romans termed it, respect for its majesty.
Hence every serious injury to the honor, power
and even to the established order of the Roman
state, was considered by the Romans as a crimen.
laºsa, majestatis. – 2. The independence of the
state of foreign states is, further, a necessary
quality and effect of its sovereignty. When a
state is compelled to acknowledge the political
superordination of another state it loses its sover-
eignty, and submits itself to the sovereignty
of the latter. Still, all subordination of a state
does not completely destroy its Sovereignty, be-
cause the dependence which that subordination
implies is not an absolute one, and because its
original independence and self-dependence re-
appear in many circumstances. In composite
states, confederations, federal states and king-
doms, the individual states, although in certain
respects subordinated to the whole, still, as states,
possess a relative Sovereignty, limited, not as to
its content, but as to its extent. Thus in Switzer-
land they speak of cantonal sovereignty when ref-
erence is had to cantonal affairs, in contradistinc-
tion to the sovereignty of the confederation when
reference is had to the affairs of the confederation.
Similarly in the United States and in the German
Bmpire we must distinguish between the sover-
eignty of the aggregate state (union, empire) and
that of the states belonging to the confederation.
We can, however, speak of the relative sovereign-
ty of individual states subordinated to an aggre-
gate state (confederation or empire) only where
the individual state is itself organized as a state,
that is, where it has all the essential organs of a
..sion of the vital energy of the state.
state (legislative bodies, governments, etc.,) and a
state life peculiar to itself; but we can not speak
of such relative sovereignty of the individual state
Subordinated to an aggregate state when it has to
the whole the relation of a mere part of that whole,
the relation of a province, for instance. As in
all that is relative, there is here, too, a scarcely per-
ceptible transition from the one thing to another.
Externally the sovereignty of the state in our
time is ordinarily represented by the head of the
state, not by the legislative body, but this rather
from motives of expediency than from juristic
reasons. – 3. At home, sovereignty finds its chief
expression in the right of the people independ-
ently to determine the forms of its political exist-
ence, and, in case of need, to change them. What
can not be conceded to a part of the people, to the
mere majority of the people without the govern-
ment, undoubtedly belongs to the aggregate peo-
ple in its political organization. The individual
subject should not oppose the ordinances of the
people, even when his political rights are injured
by such ordinances: for if the state is to preserve
its unity, its cohesion and order, the individual,
in the domain of public law, must subordinate
himself to the highest power in the state. — It
certainly is not a matter of indifference, in pass-
ing a moral or legal judgment. On the change,
whether it takes place by the way of reform or
of revolution. Reform supposes, first, that the
change is introduced by the organism empowered
by the constitution to make it, and hence, that in
constitutional representative states, it is introduced
by the legislative body representing the whole na-
tion; that is, that it is made formally conformable
to law. Second, that even in the transformation
of the law the spirit of the law is respected; and
hence, that the law which it is proposed to change
or repeal, should be set aside only to the extent
that it has become obsolete or unsuitable, and that
new law should be allowed to come into force only
in so far as it seems to be mature and to have its
foundation in the new circumstances of the peo-
ple's life. If either the form of the constitution is
disregarded, or if the principle of right be violated
in the change, such an act is not reform, but revo-
lution. The right of reform is a necessary expres-
To contest
this right, is to deny the development of the peo-
ple, and to cause revolution. — But the radical
doctrine of the state also maintains the right of the
people to revolution. The idea of public law,
however, opposes this assumption; for revolution
is either a violent breach of the existing Constitu-
tion of the state, or else a violation of the princi-
ples of legal right. For this reason revolutions,
as a rule, are not legal acts, although they may be
powerful natural phenomena which change public
law. When the unchained natural forces which
are passionately excited in the nation produce and
determine a revolution, the regular efficiency of
public law is disturbed. In the face of events of
this kind, public law is powerless. It is unable to
draw the revolution within the sphere of its norms
SPAIN.
767
and laws. One of the greatest tasks of politics is
to guide a revolution which has broken out into
the regular paths of reform and political Order.
If the law was too weak to prevent, or reform too
slow to anticipate, revolution, neither the one nor
the other, nor both together, can now control it.
Hence we can speak only by way of exception of
a right of revolution, and only in the sense of a
right of self-defense of the people, to save its ex-
istence, or to realize its necessary development,
when the avenues of reform have been closed.
The constitution is, after all, only the external or-
ganization of the people. If by the constitution
the state incurs the danger of ruin, or if by it the
life of the people has been paralyzed, or the vitalin-
terests of public well-being have been endangered,
the principle of self-defense should be applied.
“Necessity knows no law.”—4. State sovereignty
embraces the power of making the necessary laws.
The legislative power, in the narrower sense of the
term, like the constitutive power, flows from the
sovereignty of the state, and is at the same time
its regular revelation. — 5. But further still, on
the sovereignty of the state, in principle, rest all
other powers of the state, for which reason the
constitution and legislation limit and regulate all
other expressions of sovereignty. — 6. Irrespons?-
bility. From the higher point of view, there really
exists no irresponsibility of men in regard to their
doings or omissions. In fact, the eternal judg-
ment of God of this world excludes the idea of
the irresponsibility even of nations. Even on
earth, in the destinies and sufferings of peoples,
this responsibility is not unfrequently painfully
felt. But it is impossible within a state to estab-
lish a tribunal before which the whole people, or
its representatives, as holders of the Supreme pow-
er of the state, can be called to account. If this
were attempted, the state itself would to that ex-
tent at least be subject to this tribunal, and thus a
member would be placed higher than the body,
the part above the whole. But if a state, in the
execution of its sovereignty, should be responsible
to another state, its sovereignty on that account
would be a limited one, and subordinate to the
higher sovereignty of the judging state. Only by
the further development of international law, or
by a higher political organization of the world, be-
fore which individual sovereign states would have
to bow, as to an aggregate empire, could the politi-
cal responsibility of individual states be organized.
It may be reserved for the future to realize this
idea. At present it is only an idea.—7. All partic-
ular state powers, on the contrary, are responsible
to the Sovereignty of the state. —IV. The second
kind of sovereignty, the Sovereignty which belongs
only to the head of the state, is recognized in mod-
ern public law only in monarchy. Only the mon-
arch, not the president of a republic, although the
latter exercises rights of Sovereignty, has, accord-
ing to modern public law, a personal claim to be
regarded as sovereign.” J. C. BLUNTSCHL.I.
* “The words sovereign and sovereignty,” says Theodore
D. Woolsey (“Political Science,” etc., New York, Scribner,
SOWEREIGNTY (IN U. S. HISTORY). (See
PopULAR SOVFREIGNTY.)
SPAIN. This country, which occupies the
greater portion of the Iberian peninsula, and
includes the Balearic isles and the Canaries, ex-
Armstrong & Co., 1878), “are applicable to persons and to
states; moreover, from the intimate connection between
the state as a political organism and the territory where
the laws prevail, the territory itself may be called a sov-
ereignty, or the expression may be explained in the last
case with greater reason as denoting something held in Sov-
ereignty, a province or district which is not dependent. The
first notion in the word was that of being above or higher
than others in power and jurisdiction. Thus, the sovereign
ruler is above all other officers or magistrates, and above all
the individuals belonging to the people. The quality of Sov-
ereignty, however, does not necessarily imply unlimited power
or unchecked power; much less undelegated power. It can
be used of all kingly and imperial power, from that of a chief
officer of state who is absolute, to the king who can do noth-
ing without a legislative assembly. It has not, however, if
we do not err, ever been applied to the head of a democratic
state whose office ceases after a term of years. For the most
part, when used at present, it is either of dignity, denoting
the superior person in the state or nation, or else it is used of
a ruler who can control the policy of a nation toward other
nations in matters of diplomacy. Thus, the king or queen of
JEngland, although having, in matter of fact, an exceedingly
limited power, is called sovereign, to denote the dignity of
the office as above all others in the kingdom, or as having
constitutionally the power to control foreign relations, a
power unchecked in theory, yet practically not expressing
the sovereign's personal will. — The abstract conception of
sovereignty is thus unfolded by Mr. John Austin in the sixth
of his lectures on ‘The Province of Jurisprudence,” (i., p.
226, ed. 3): “If a determinate human superior, not in the habit
of obedience to a like superior, receive habitual obedžence
from the bulk of a given society, that determinate superior is
sovereign in that society, and the society (including the supe-
rior) is a society political and independent. To that deter-
minate superior the other members of the Society are subject;
or on that determinate superior the other members of the so-
ciety are dependent. The mutual relation which subsists be-
tween that superior and them may be styled the relation of
sovereign and subject, or the relation of Sovereignty and sub-
jection.” This definition looks at fact simply, and has noth-
ing whatever to do with right. The habitual obedience would
seem to be absolute, but persons called sovereigns at the
present day have no right to require habitual obedience ex-
cept within a very narrow sphere. Subjection is now used, if
used at all in politics, of relations that are not personal, the
term being retained while the feudal motion has left it. And
again, few, I presume, of the subjects of the sovereign of
Great Britain would allow to themselves be called dependents
on the sovereign. —But what is the sovereignty of a state?
and how does it comport with the sovereignty of a ruler? In
the intercourse of nations, certain states have a position of
entire independence of others, and can perform all those acts
which it is possible for any state to perform in this particular
sphere. These same states have also entire power of Self-
government, that is, of independence upon all other states as
far as their own territory and citizens not living abroad are
concerned. No foreign power or law can have control ex-
cept by convention. This power of independent action in
external and internal relations constitutes complete Sover-
eignty. This definition of sovereign states would be incon-
sistent with the claim of sovereignty which has been set up
in this country by communities called states, and in the treaty
of 1783 with Great Britain called sovereign states ; which,
however, never made a treaty separately with foreign nations,
never belonged in their separate capacity to the community
of nations, and are incapacitated by the constitution from
performing any international act; and which, moreover, by
the same constitution, are precluded from doing many things
within their own territory and in the exercise of state power,
which sovereign states do and must do. This use of the word
sovereignty, and, indeed, the use of the word State, shows
the poverty of political language, but has helped on far
768
SPAIN.
tends over 507,036 square kilometres, and con-
tained, according to the census of 1860, 15,658,000
inhabitants.
in 1873. — The last general enumeration of the
population took place on Dec. 31, 1877, the returns
showing that at that date the kingdom, including
the Balearic and Canary islands (“Baleåres” and
“Canárias,” each considered a province), and the
Small strip of territory in North Africa, facing
Gibraltar, had a total population of 16,625,860,
comprising 8,134,659 males and 8,491,201 females.
—The vast majority of the inhabitants of Spain
are natives of the country, the aliens being less
numerous than in any other state of Europe.
According to the census returns of Dec. 31, 1877,
there were at that date only 26,834 resident for-
eigners, the mass of them in four provinces,
namely, Barcelona, Cadiz, Gerona and Madrid.
The number in the province of Barcelona was
4,392, comprising 2,490 males and 1,902 females;
while in the province of Cadiz the number was
3,321, comprising 1,866 males and 1,445 females.
—The progress of population did not amount to
more than 75 per cent. in the course of the last
hundred years. In 1768 the population was cal-
culated to number 9,307,800 souls; in 1789 it had
risen to 10,061,480; and in 1797 it exceeded 12,-
000,000 souls. In 1820 it had fallen to 11,000,000,
but in 1823 it had again risen to 12,000,000, and
in 1828 to 13,698,029. At a census taken in 1846
the population was found to be 12,168,774, and it
was 16,301,851 at the census of 1860. Finally,
at the census of 1877 the population amounted,
as before shown, to 16,625,860, being an increase
of 324,009 in the course of seventeen years, or at
the rate of about + per cent. per annum. The
present density of population is considerably less
than half that of Italy, and less than one-third
that of The Netherlands. – There were, at the
census of Dec. 31, 1877, fourteen towns in Spain
greater evils than that of supplying false premises for syllo-
gisms ending in Secession. —Is the sovereignty of the state
a term emanating from the sovereignty of the ruler? or is the
ruler properly called a sovereign only as representing the
state? The state stands for an untold amount of good to be
secured to present and future generations by a just and wise
government, at the head of which the ruler is placed. He is
a means for a great permanent end; he dies, and some one
else succeeds to him, and not by his will, for the most part,
but by the law of the state. He disobeys the law, and seeks
to overturn it; another is substituted for him, and all things
go on, it may be, better than before. All this shows that the
ultimate power in theory rests with the state or the people
constituting it, and that the prince is a delegate or deputed
sovereign. This of course touches the source of his power,
and the object for which it is granted. The power itself may
be absolute, and the grant may have been made in remote
ages. The prince is a vicar of God, just as receivers of trib-
ute are “God’s ministers, attending continually upon this
verything.” But he is such because the state and its author-
ity are from God, and because he fulfills the end for which the
helm of state is intrusted to him. If some democrats of the
Erench school have talked of cashiering kings, the grossness
of taste, and want of reverence for old dignities, were the
result of an ill use of sovereign power. If the French kings
had felt that they were created to minister rather than to be
ministered unto, that their power, called sovereign, was del-
egated to them; the outrages of an extreme reaction against
their sway might have been spared to the world.”
Spain had perhaps sixteen millions.
with a population of over 50,000. The following
is a list of these towns, with the number of their
inhabitants:
Madrid -------------- 897,690 Granada ------------- 76,108
Barcelona------------ 249,106 || Carthagena ---------- y
Valencia ------------- 143 Cadiz. ---------------- 65,028
Sevilla --------------- 133,938 Xeres de la Frontera- 64,533
Malaga--------------- 115,882 | Palma --------------- ,224
Murcia--------------- 91,805 || Lorca ---------------- 52,934
Zaragoza------------- 84,575 | Walladolid ----------- 52,206
—Nearly 46 per cent. of the whole surface of the
kingdom is still uncultivated. The soil is subdi-
vided among a very large number of proprietors.
Of 3,426,083 recorded assessments to the property
tax, there are 624,920 properties which pay from
1 to 10 reals; 511,666 from 10 to 20 reals; 642,377
from 20 to 40 reals; 788,184, from 40 to 100 reals;
416,546, from 100 to 200 reals; 165,202, from 200
to 500 reals; while the rest, to the number of
279,188, are larger estates, charged from 500 to
10,000 reals and upward. The subdivision of the
soil is partly the work of recent years, for in 1800
the number of farms amounted only to 677,520,
in the hands of 273,760 proprietors and 403,760
farmers. — I. Constitution. At the end of the
last century there was left no tradition of the an-
cient cortes of Castile, Aragon, Valentia and
Catalonia, which were so powerful during the
middle ages. The only vestiges of them which
remained did not go beyond the empty ceremony
in which an oath was taken to the prince of the
Asturias. – The war of independence roused the
Spanish nation, which had been accustomed to
absolute monarchy, from its slumber. Deprived
of its kings, the necessities of the time obliged it
to appoint a regency, which, in order to gain
more prestige and a greater authority, convoked
the cortes. The deputies, assembled at Cadiz,
dictated the constitution of 1812, which was the
origin of representative government in Spain. —
It would be vain to look On their work as the
restoration of Spain's ancient liberties, which now
belong exclusively to history. Nothing will be
found in it but an echo of the ideas proclaimed
by the French revolution of 1789. The spirit
which reigns in it is the spirit of democracy, as is
shown, beyond a doubt, by the establishment of
a single chamber and the suspensive veto. — Once
on the throne again, Ferdinand VII. re-established
the ancient régime pure and simple. A military
insurrection in 1820 restored a breath of life to
the liberal system, which in 1823 fell a second
time under the influence of internal dissensions,
aided by the intervention of France on behalf of
absolute monarchy, on which Europe looked com-
placently. — It was easy to foresee, that, with the
death of Ferdinand, an inevitable change would
take place in the form of government. Isabella II.
succeeded him, at the age of three years, under the
guardianship of her mother, Maria Christina, of
Naples. The infante Don Carlos, brother of the
king, and representative of the party opposed to
all reform, considered himself injured in his rights,
and the quarrel which ensued made it necessary
to strengthen the new legitimist order by the Sup-
SPAIN.
769
port of liberal opinions. Still, there was no thought
of restoring the constitution of 1812; it was be-
lieved that the people could be satisfied with
Something less; and in 1834 the royal statute was
promulgated and a charter granted, establishing
two chambers, the one of the grandees of the na-
tion (estamento próceres), the other of its represent-
atives (estamento de procuradores), to whom was
conceded not the initiative in the drawing up of
bills, but the simple power of deliberating on those
which might be presented to them by the minis-
ters, together with an altogether derisive right of
petition.—While war desolated Spain, disorder was
increased by the manoeuvres of the more or less
ardent partisans of political progress. In 1836,
an insurrection having broken out at Granja,
Maria Christina was forced to sign a decree re-
storing the constitution of Cadiz until such time
as the nation, represented in the cortes, should re-
ject it or frame one in harmony with the wants of
the time. In 1837 the constituent chambers were
assembled, and drew up a constitution very similar
to that at present in force in Belgium. Later, the
moderate party, having obtained power, undertook
to correct, according to its doctrines, the work of
the progressive party, and formed, with the assist-
ance of the ordinary cortes, the constitution of
1845, which, with certain amendments (1857), is
the constitution that continued in force until 1868,
and which has a great resemblance to the French
charte, amended in 1830. X. Y.
— Spain, after the Revolution of 1868. In Septem-
ber, 1868, a revolution put an end to the dynasty
of the Bourbons. The revolutionary juntas un-
dertook, first of all, to secure public order, a
necessity imposed on every well-organized society.
It was besides necessary, for the organization
and concentration of power, to establish the unity
of the government, and to call on men expe-
rienced in the management of public business
to take the initiative in this task. The revolu-
tionary junta of Madrid, therefore, delegated
its powers to Gen. Serrano, duke de la Torre,
whom it intrusted with the formation of a pro-
visional government. He did this by raising to
the first places in the state those men who had
labored for the triumph of the revolution by the
sword, by their words or their acts. The pro-
visional government convoked constituent cortes.
The people hastened to the polls; universal suf-
frage was for Spain an accomplished fact. It
was necessary, to give a legal character to the
general acts of the provisional government, to
establish a political constitution different from
those of 1812, 1837 and 1845, and to bring it into
harmony with the new wants of the nation, and
the political interests of popular parties. The
COrtes, in a number of sessions, some of which
have remained memorable, finished the task
which they had undertaken, and transformed
the provisional government into an executive
pOWer. — The constitution of 1869 was the cause
of great progress in political institutions. The
168 VOL. III. — 49
powers emanate.
first title provided for individual liberty, the
inviolability of a man’s domicile, and the secrecy
of letters, unless in case of offenses punishable
by law. It also accorded the right of assembling
and of association for all purposes not contrary
to public morals. Every Spaniard, by its terms,
acquired the right of expressing his ideas and
opinions freely by speech, or through the press.
The right of petition was recognized as belong-
ing to all citizens except to the army. The na-
tion pledged itself to maintain the Catholic relig-
ion and its ministers. The free practice of every
other religion, in public or private, within the
bounds prescribed by the general rules of morality
and law, was guaranteed to all foreigners living in
Spain. This provision applies to Spaniards pro-
fessing a religion different from the Catholic. —
That constitution guaranteed liberty of the press,
and abolished its preliminary censure, etc. It al-
lowed any one to found schools without the per-
mission of the authorities. An important provis-
ion is that abolishing the requirement of a special
permission to summon before the ordinary tribu-
nals, public officials for any kind of misdemeanor.
In case of a clear and evident violation of the pro-
visions of the constitution, the official can not shield
himself against responsibility by alleging an order
emanating from his superiors. —Every Spaniard
is obliged to take up arms in defense of his coun-
try whenever called upon to do so by law; to con-
tribute to the expenses of the state in proportion
to his means; in return he may aspire to every
office and public employment, according to his
merit and capacity. — Constitutional guarantees
can not be suspended in the whole or in any part
of the kingdom unless by law and for a given
time, in extraordinary circumstances, and when
demanded by public safety. Except in those ex-
treme cases in which public safety might be en-
dangered, the government has neither the right to
exile nor to transport a Spanish citizen, nor to re-
move him farther than 250 kilometres from his
domicile. — It is provided that every association,
which, by its object or by the means which it em-
ploys, imperils the security of the state, shall be
dissolved by law. — The constitution recognizes
three public powers: the legislative power, the ea:-
ecutive power and the judicial power. Sovereignty
resides essentially in the nation, from which all
The cortes make the laws; the
king sanctions and promulgates them. The Cortes
are composed of two legislative assemblies, the
senate and the congress (chamber of deputies),
equal in power, except that the popular chamber
has the priority in all discussions relative to taxa-
tion, public credit and recruiting. Congress is re-
newed every three years, and one-fourth of the
senate during the same period. The cortes must
remain in session at least four months each year,
not including the time spent in organizing. They
must be convoked before Feb. 1. Senators and
deputies can not be arrested nor called before the
courts during the time in which the cortes are in
session, without the permission of the legislative .
770
SPAIN.
body of which they form a part, except in case
they are taken flagrante delicto. The cortes have
the right to appoint or to discharge, at will, the
members of the court of accounts of the king-
dom. In the case in which, in accordance with
the vote of the Congress, there is occasion to im-
peach a minister or a ministry, the senate consti-
tutes itself a court of justice. In this case the
chamber of deputies chooses a commission in-
trusted with conducting the impeachment. This
commission and the members impeached may
challenge one-third of the senators called to
sit in judgment; the latter can not be chosen
except from senators who have entered on their
duties before the impeachment of the ministers.
— Deputies are elected by universal suffrage.
Every Spaniard aged twenty-five years, not hav-
ing been sentenced for any crime, is a voter, and
eligible to office. Election in two degrees is re-
Sorted to in the case of Senators: they are nomi-
nated by commissioners chosen by universal suf-
frage, and by the members of the deputations or
provincial assemblies. – King Amadeus, son of
the King of Italy (duke of Aosta), was elected by
195 votes in the session of Nov. 19, 1869, and on
Feb. 2 following he made his solemn entry into
Madrid. The same day the regent of the king-
dom resigned his powers into the hands of the
assembly, and the king took the oath of fidelity
to the constitution before the president, Don
Manuel Ruiz Zorilla. The cortes pronounced
their own dissolution in their capacity of constit-
uent COrteS. F. H.
— Republic of 1874. The reign of King Amadeus
lasted only until Feb. 10, 1873. A royal message
explained the reason of the abdication. On Feb.
11 of the same year the cortes accepted the abdi-
cation, by 256 votes against 32, and proclaimed
the republic. A deputation accompanied the king
and his family to the frontiers. M. B.
— Restoration of the Monarchy in 1874, and present
Constitution. At the beginning of 1874 the repub-
lic was set aside by Serrano's regency. In the
meantime the uprising in favor of Don Carlos had
assumed greater dimensions. A dislike for the
latter, and a desire for quiet and an orderly state
of things, rendered the return of the younger
branch of the Bourbons to the throne possible.
Alfonso XII., Son of Queen Isabella, and her
husband, Francis de Assisi, was proclaimed king
Dec. 30, 1874, and he succeeded in again restoring
the monarchy to an orderly state. — The present
constitution of Spain, drawn up by the govern-
ment, and laid before a cortes constituyentes, elect-
ed for its ratification March 27, 1876, was pro-
claimed June 30, 1876. It consists of seventy-nine
articles or clauses. The first of them enacts that
Spain shall be a constitutional monarchy, the ex-
ecutive authority resting in the king, and the
power to make the laws “in the cortes with the
king.” The cortes are composed of a senate and
Congress, equal in authority. There are three
classes of Senators: first, senators by their own
right, or Sénadores de derecho propio, secondly,
100 life Senators, nominated by the crown; and
thirdly, 130 senators, elected by the corporations
of state, and by the largest payers of contribu-
tions. Senators in their own right are the sons,
if any, of the king and of the immediate heir to
the throne, who have attained their majority; gran-
dees, who are so in their own right, and who can
prove an annual renta of 60,000 pesetas, or £2,400;
captains general of the army ; admirals of the
navy; the pâtriarch of the Indias and the arch-
bishops; the presidents of the council of state, of
the supreme tribunal, and of the tribunal of cuem-
tas del reinvo. The elective senators must be re-
newed by one-half every five years, and by total-
ity every time the king dissolves that part of the
cortes. The congress is formed by deputies
“named in the electoral juntas in the form the
law determines,” in the proportion of one to every
50,000 souls of the population. By a royal decree
issued Aug. 8, 1878, the island of Cuba received the
privilege of sending deputies to the cortes, in the
proportion of one to every 40,000 free inhabitants,
paying 125 pesetas, annually, in taxes. Members
of congress must be twenty-five years of age; they
are re-eligible indefinitely, the elections being for
five years. The deputies can not take state office,
pensions and salaries; but the ministers are ex-
empted from this law. Both congress and Senate
meet every year. The king has the power of
convoking, suspending or dissolving them; but in
the latter case a new cortes must sit within three
months. The king appoints the president and
vice-president of the senate from members of the
senate only. The king and each of the legislative
chambers can take the initiative in the laws. –
The constitution of June 30, 1876, further enacts
that the king is inviolable, but his ministers are
responsible, and that all his decrees must be
countersigued by oue of them. The cortes 111ust
approve his marriage before he can contract it,
and the king can not marry any one excluded by
law from the succession to the crown. Should
the lines of the legitimate descendants of Alfonso
XII. become extinct, the succession shall be in
this order : first to his sisters ; next to his aunt,
and her legitimate descendants; and next to his
uncles, the brothers of Ferdinando VII., “unless
they have been excluded.” If all the lines become
extinct, ‘‘the nation will elect its monarch.”—The
executive power is vested, under the king, in a
council of ministers of nine members. F. M.
— II. Administrative Organization. The admin-
istration has been entirely remodeled since 1868:
centralization has given place to Self-government.
The government, the provincial assemblies and
the municipalities (ayuntamientos) constitute the
three degrees of the administration. The govern-
ment, in conjunction with the cortes, administers
and executes the laws. The provincial assemblies
have within their jurisdiction benevolent institu-
tions, prisons, education, roads, Canals; they have
SPAIN.
771
the initiative in all projects of public utility with-
in their respective boundaries. The municipali-
ties, with their juntas of associates, have within
their jurisdiction the tribunals of the justices of
the peace, the colleges and free universities, and
the levying of taxes; and are really sovereigns
within the limits fixed by the law. — The constitu-
tion of 1869 has defined these limits by regulating
the laws creating these different bodies, accord-
ing to the following principles. 1, the govern-
ment and management of the local affairs of the
province by local provincial corporations; 2, pub-
licity of the sessions of each corporation; 3, the
publication of budgets, financial management, and
the most important decisions; 4, interference by
the king, or, in default of the king, by the cortes,
to prevent the provincial and municipal assem-
blies from exceeding their powers, to the prejudice
Of general and permanent interests; 5, verification
of their resources arising from taxation, to prevent
the provinces and the municipalities from coming
into opposition with the financial system of the
state. — Municipal assemblies, elected by univer-
sal suffrage, and whose councilors elect the alcalde,
previously appointed by the governors or the king,
may establish hospitals, almshouses, lying-in-hos-
pitals and colleges, and regulate everything capa-
ble of contributing to the scientific, industrial and
progressive movement of the locality. — The pro-
Vincial assemblies form a species of congress.
Provinces, whose population does not exceed
150,000 inhabitants, have twenty-five deputies, and
one more for each 10,000, up to 300,000; those
which reach this figure have forty deputies, and
an additional one for every 25,000 inhabitants;
those which have 500,000 inhabitants have forty-
eight deputies, and an additional one for every
50,000 inhabitants. Permanent provincial com-
missions are chosen from these assemblies, and
renewed every year. Provincial assemblies hold
two sessions, one in the month of April, and the
other in November, to regulate and discuss the
budget, to balance the preceding budget, and to
perform all acts within their competence. The
permanent commission has charge of the execu-
tion of the decisions of the assembly, decides
urgent questions which may arise in the interval
of the sessions, on condition that these decisions
shall be submitted to the approval of the provin-
cial assembly at its earliest meeting. The pro-
Vincial assemblies, as well as the municipal coun-
cils, can exercise their functions only within the
precise limits assigned them by the laws. The
wants of each province, not within the exclusive
jurisdiction of the state, are regulated by the pro-
vincial assemblies. Those which are special to
each municipality are within the jurisdiction of
the municipal councils. – Political questions are
forbidden to the two assemblies. Consequently,
the government has a representative in each prov-
ince, the civil governor, to prevent the municipal
and provincial assemblies from exceeding their
powers. This functionary, essentially political,
and liable to be removed by the government, super-
vises, in its name, the execution of the laws, and
presides over the provincial assemblies. He has
power to suspend their decisions, rendering, at
the same time, an account of his acts to the gov-
ernment, which, on the advice of the council of
state, confirms or rejects his decrees of suspension.
The civil governor has, within his sphere of action,
political affairs, the public safety, the postal serv-
ice and telegraphs, economic establishments (agri-
cultural, industrial, commercial and others), cus-
tom house guards for the prevention of fraud, the
civil guard for the protection of persons, and the
inspectors charged with the maintenance of public
order. We thus see that in the civil order no
functionary has so much power and responsibility
as the governor. — There are in Spain 9,361 mu-
nicipal districts, with an equal number of coun-
cils. There are as many provincial assemblies as
provinces, with the exception of the Basque prov-
inces, which, in virtue of their fueros (franchises),
have a general assembly that is renewed every three
years. These fueros were confirmed in 1839, at
first by the general-in-chief, Baldomero Espartero,
prince of Vergara,afterward by the national cortes.
They (the fueros, or franchises) consist in the ex-
emption from personal tax, from the tobacco mo-
nopoly and from stamped paper. They compen-
sate for the exemption from customs by a volun-
tary gift of three millions of reals each year, for
everything which these provinces import or ex-
port without being subject to governmental inspec-
tion. — Navarre also possesses franchises (fueros)
which were limited by the law of Aug. 16, 1841.
since that year this province is subject, like others,
to a direct tax. — One of the most important priv-
ileges enjoyed by the Basque provinces is the
exemption from military service. But, when the
country has to carry on a national war, they are
obliged to furnish a division, armed and equipped
at their own expense, to defend the honor of the
Spanish flag, which they did in the African war
and the Cuban expedition. — Public education, in
so far as it relates not only to elementary instruc-
tion but to middle-class schools, is placed entirely
in charge of the municipal councils and the pro-
vincial assemblies. It is true that the law requires
conditions of fitness for the masters and profes-
sors, but it is the assemblies which pay them. The
state reserves to itself the universities, the high
schools and special schools, without prejudice to
establishments of the same kind, founded to com-
pete with those of the state, by virtue of freedom
of instruction. The clergy maintain seminaries
for the instruction of young men intended for the
priesthood. — III. Judicial Organization. The
judicial organization corresponds to the require-
ments of civil and criminal justice. Its tribunals
are classified as follows: 1, municipal tribunals, or
justices of the peace; 2, tribunals of the first resort;
3, courts of appeal; 4, supreme Court (court of Cas-
sation). Justices of the peace are intrusted with
all registers of the civil state and of marriages.
Formerly, marriage was exclusively canonical,
and could only be contracted before the priest of
772
SPAIN.
the parish and witnesses.
tracted before the municipal officer, leaving to
Catholic couples the right of converting the civil
contract into a sacrament at the church: Disputes
of voluntary jurisdiction are brought in the first
instance before justices of the peace, whose duty
it is to conciliate the litigants. No case can be
brought before the tribunals without having been
submitted previously to the tribunal of concilia-
tion. Judges of courts of first resort decide all
civil and criminal questions, concerning which
they pronounce decisions, supported by reasons
and considerations. Audiences are courts of ap-
peal, before which are brought the decisions and
sentences of the lower tribunals, and which have
to pronounce opinions in criminal cases. The
supreme court of justice, or court of cassation, de-
cides questions of jurisdiction, appeals in cassa-
tion, and abuses of power; and fixes the common
law of the land by its decisions, published in the
official journal of the government. There are fif-
teen audiences (courts of appeal), 548 tribunals of
the first resort, and as many of justices of the
peace as there are districts administered by alcades.
— Individual rights being incompatible with the
policy of prevention, it was necessary to replace
the latter by the repressive system, which can
only be properly exercised by tribunals to insure
all the certainty and publicity which the legal
proceedings and the judicial decisions require.
The organic law of the tribunals, voted by the
constituent cortes, in establishing a new system,
the system of the municipal tribunals, courts of
investigation, courts of apportionment, courts of
appeal, and the Supreme court, separated the mag-
istracy of the bench from that of the public prose-
cutor, by conferring permanence of tenure on the
former. The progress of juridical science and the
organization of justice in other countries rendered
this classification and this distinction between
magisterial functions necessary. Every judicial
sentence Inust be pronounced in Open Court.
Trial by jury exists in Spain. — The court of
accounts, whose members are chosen by the cor-
tes, is charged with auditing the accounts of
the state, the provinces and municipal districts,
when the amount reaches a given sum. This
court is placed under the supervision and in-
spection of the two legislative assemblies, and
no deputy or senator can be a member of it.
Jurisdiction in case of disputes between the ad-
ministration and private persons, formerly be-
longed to the provincial councils and the council
of state; it belongs now to the authority of the au-
diences, and to the fourth chamber of the supreme
court of justice. — The army is subject to a spe-
cial jurisdiction for offenses and misdemeanors
committed by the accused in their military capac-
ity. Jurisdiction belongs, according to the case,
either to a council of war, or to the Supreme
council. — The tribunal of the rota takes cogni-
zance of all ecclesiastical or religious cases which
concern Catholics or ministers of worship. —IV.
The proclamation of
civil liberty has authorized civil marriage con-
Ecclesiastical Organization. The ecclesiastical or-
ganization consists of the papal nuncio, who is not
only the representative of the holy see, but also
president of the tribunal of the rota; the archbish-
Op and bishops, chapters and parishes. The arch-
bishops of Spain are nine in number. The arch-
bishop of Toledo is considered primate of the
church. The transmarine provinces have two
archbishops, one at Santiago de Cuba (Havana),
and the other at Manilla (Philippine islands). The
peninsula has forty-four suffragan bishops, Cuba.
two, Porto Rico one, and the Philippines four.
Bcclesiastical administration is the only one which
does not correspond to the civil divisions of the
country; it has retained its ancient boundaries.
Certain provinces contain three or four bishops;
on the other hand, there are provinces which form.
parts of several bishoprics, and certain bishoprics.
have parishes in four, five and even eight different
provinces. The number of parishes is 19,397 in
Spain, and 603 in the transmarine provinces; al-
together, 20,000 parishes. According to the new
concordat, eight bishoprics were suppressed, and
two created, one at Madrid, the other at Ciudad-
Real. — The budget of public worship amounts to
about fifty millions of francs. The cortes, with
the view of reconciling the interests of the treas-
ury with the wants of the church, decided that
the municipalities and the provincial deputations
should bear a part of the expenditures for wor-
ship and the salaries of clergymen; the state con-
tributed its share by an annual subsidy of thirty
millions of francs. The ecclesiastical expendi-
tures in each parish are not to exceed 2 fr. 50 cent.
for each inhabitant. When this sum is exceeded,
the state pays the difference. — The chapters are
organized in the following manner: a dean, four
canons in office, a greater or less number of canons.
freely elected by the crown, the pope or the prel-
ates, and, finally, beneficed canons appointed in
each cathedral according to the needs of worship.
The seminaries for the higher education of the
clergy are supported by the chapters. There are
'religious corporations in Spain devoted exclusively
to civil education ; such are the Escolapiam Fa-
thers. — The clergy enjoy the same political rights.
as other citizens. Priests may express their ideas
freely, by speech or through the press, may take
part in all associations, and vote in the electoral
colleges. If guilty of any misdemeanor, they are
tried in accordance with the provisions of the
penal code ; offenses against canonical rules are
tried by prelates. The state does not interfere in
affairs of the church, except when they are of a
nature to affect public tranquillity and with a view
to the legitimate defense of national institutions.
The constituent cortes of 1869 subjected ecclesias-
tics to the oath which is considered a condition
preliminary to the payment of the Salaries assigned
them as public functionaries. The clergy not
wishing, in the great majority of cases, to submit
to this formality, the payment of these ecclesias-
tical salaries was suspended. According to the
terms of the new law on the clergy and worship,
SPAIN.
773
the oath of allegiance to the fundamental law of
the kingdom was declared necessary.
- FAUSTINO HERNANDO.
—W. Public Charity. From remote ages numer-
ous institutions, established and maintained by
Christian charity, existed in the peninsula. In
the thirteenth century the knights of the order of
St. James had hospitals for the pilgrims visiting
the apostle-patron of Spain, and the first monks
dispensed a generous hospitality. Later, alms
and rich legacies furnished the means of found-
ing great hospitals, which the bishops supported
so freely with their revenues that these revenues
could be considered as Savings banks for the poor.
At present, charity is regulated in Spain by the
law of June 20, 1849, supplemented by general
regulation. Charity is considered as public when
it is supported by the revenues of the state or the
product of taxation, and as private when it is
carried on exclusively at the expense of founda-
tions. – Public establishments are classed as gen-
eral, departmental and communal. General es-
tablishments are those for the insane, deaf mutes,
the blind, and the incurable. The law puts hos-
pitals, houses of refuge, lying-in hospitals and
foundling hospitals in charge of the departments;
and small hospitals, provisional almshouses, am-
bulances, domiciliary aid and asylums in charge
of the communes. According to the law of June
20, 1849, the state is obliged to support at least
two hospitals for the blind, two for deaf mutes,
and eighteen for incurables and the infirm old. —
The general direction of public charity belongs to
the ministry of the interior (de gobernacion); it is
exercised through the agency of the governors
(prefects) and councils of provincial and commu-
nal charity. At Madrid there is a central general
council. The departmental and local councils
supervise the administration of hospitals, public
as well as private, and report violations of the
law to the governors. It is their duty to audit the
annual accounts and budgets, and provide for
deficits in case of necessity. — Private as well as
public charitable institutions are subject to such
visits as the president of the central council or the
governor may prescribe. They are obliged to re-
port their economic condition, and all papers and
documents which concern their administration.
* The national church of Spain is the Roman Catholic, and
the whole population of the kingdom, with the exception of
about 60,000 persons, adhere to the same faith. According to
article twelve of the constitution of 1876, a restricted liberty of
worship is allowed to Protestants; but it has to be entirely in
private, all public announcements of the same being strictly
forbidden. The constitution likewise enacts that “the nation
binds itself to maintain the worship and ministers of the
Roman Catholic religion.” Resolutions of former legisla-
tive bodies, not repealed in the constitution of 1876, settled
that the clergy of the established church are to be main-
tained by the state. According to official returns laid before
the cortes in July, 1876, the number of places of worship
and schools of Spanish Protestants were as follows: fifty-
three places of worship; ninety schools, with 2,500 enrolled
Imembers, and 8,000 attendants at service on Sundays at the
various chapels; 3,000 children. The poorest receive Protes-
tant education. — F, M. -
Bishops have also the right of visiting institu-
tions of charity in their dioceses, and of reporting
such observations to the governors or to the cen-
tral council as these visits suggest to them. — The
functions of the committees of administration
and of the councils of supervision of charitable
institutions are performed gratuitously, except
those of the secretary. There are also commit-
tees of ladies for foundling hospitals and lying-in
hospitals, and brotherhoods for the assistance of
the poor. — The resources of institutions of char-
ity consist of the revenues from their property;
and when these are sold, of the interest on state
bonds, as well as alms, gifts, legacies, collections
and grants voted in the general budgets, depart-
mental as well as communal. The government
has the right to create or suppress institutions of
charity, but only after having taken the advice of
the committee of supervision of the department,
of the central council and the council of state.
There is reason to believe that the sum employed
by private charity greatly exceeds the total of
public charity. COUNT DE RIPALDA.
— VI. Public Instruction. Spain attracted atten-
tion, in the middle ages, by her love for the sci-
ences, and the success with which they were culti-
vated in her ancient universities. Salamanca was,
with Paris, Oxford and Boulogne, one of the great
lights of Christian civilization. Universities con-
stituted, in Spain, a species of scientific and liter-
ary municipalities, as the guilds did industrial
and commercial municipalities. Kings founded
some, endowed others, protected all, recompens-
ing with a liberal hand their masters and doctors,
and placing them by honorable privileges in the
same rank with the nobility. In consequence of
the powerful influence of the court of Rome and
the eclat and great honor and profit attaching to
ecclesiastical studies, instruction had fallen into
the hands of the clergy, and, in the collation of
academic grades, the pontifical authority was on
a level with that of the king. At the period of
the political regeneration of Spain, the govern-
ment undertook the secularization of studies, by
opening the universities to modern sciences, and
appointing lay professors. The bishops, never-
theless, retained an indirect right of interference,
as guardians of the purity of the faith and of
good morals. – There are three grades of in-
struction : primary, intermediate, and academ-
ic instruction. The first is supported mainly
by the ayuntamientos (municipalities), which are
obliged to support one or more Schools for boys
and girls, in proportion to their population and
resources. Every agglomeration of persons, Con-
sisting of more than 500 souls, must have a School
for boys completely organized, and a School for
girls. Those which do not reach this number are
grouped together to form a district, provided with
an elementary school. The government devotes
a certain sum each year to aid poor municipalities.
The law declares as “civilly obligatory” the moral
duty of parents, guardians and trustees to give
774
SPAIN.
their children or their wards primary instruction
from the age of six to nine years, charging the
alcades or mayors to see to this. Ordinarily in-
struction is paid for; it is gratuitous only for the
children of parents too poor to pay the small fee
charged. No one may perform the duties of
teacher without having obtained a diploma given
by the government on receiving specific guaran-
tees of capacity and morality; this applies also to
private schools. The law favors the establish-
ment of asylums (paroulos) and institutions for
the blind, and for deaf mutes. –In 1867 there
were about 22,000 public schools (including 1,021
schools for adults and 282 asylums), with more
than 1,200,000 pupils; and 4,218 private schools,
with 198,943 pupils. Of these 1,400,000 pupils,
there were 850,000 boys and more than 550,000
girls. In 1872 Spain had, for primary instruction,
24,144 public and 4,188 private Schools, forming
a total of 28,332, attended by 1,425,339 pupils of
both sexes, about 9.1 per cent. of the inhabitants.
— Intermediate instruction is given in institutes
founded in each capital of a province, and in
every other city which has obtained the authori-
zation of the central power to establish such an in-
stitution. These cities must have shown the con-
venience and feasibility of founding such an insti-
tute, and that they have satisfied the laws relating
to primary instruction. There are also institutes
founded and directed by private persons, accord-
ing to the laws and regulations of the state, for
this degree of instruction. The following figures
are official. The number of students in the sixty-
five colleges and institutes were: in 1865–6, 10,164;
1866–7, 6,688; 1867–8, 6,385; in private institutions,
during the same years: 13,576, 18,335, 18,903 pu-
pils; home instruction was enjoyed by 2,695, 1,936,
3,410 pupils. Secondary instruction has forty-six
official and a great number of free establishments,
with 20,000 students. – Academic studies are pur-
sued in the universities under the immediate di-
rection of the deans and rectors appointed by the
head of the state. There are ten universities in
Spain—an excessive number, difficult to reduce,
because each finds certain good means of self-
defense, either in its past glories, or its distance
from every other literary centre; in the number of
people who surround and frequent them, or in the
wishes of the cities in which they are situated,
and which consider them as property belonging to
them and which can not be removed without in-
justice. Each of the universities has a number
of faculties; that of Madrid, in the centre of the
country, the first in Spain in dignity and spléndor,
has them all; it alone is able to continue or extend
studies which qualify one for the degree of doc-
tor. University studies are pursued only in state
institutions. The whole number of students was,
in 1866, 16,545; in 1867, only 12,104; in 1868,
12,269. In 1872, 12,269 students received matric-
ulation in the universities of the state. — There
are, besides, higher and professional studies. To
the first belong the schools of bridges and roads,
of mines, agriculture, industry, fine arts, diplo-
macy and the notariado. To the second, those of
commerce, navigation, veterinary art, overseers
(maestros de obras), mechanics (aparéjadores) and
surveyors; and, finally, there are normal schools.
— Such is a picture of public instruction in Spain,
according to the law of Sept. 9, 1857. It is com-
pleted by the protection and subsidies given to the
academies, libraries, archives and museums, as a
means of promoting the progress of science. The
government supports the ten universities and other
institutions of public utility; the provinces and
municipalities contribute 1,500,000 reals to the
maintenance of the archives and libraries, and to
the development of higher and professional edu-
cation. The sixty-three subsidized institutions of
secondary education cost 7,560,000 reals. The in-
come from academic dues amounts to 1,260,000
reals, the rents to 900,000, and the deficits covered
by the provinces and municipalities to 5,400,000
reals. The treasury spends two millions of reals.
in subsidies to provincial institutions and special
schools, as well as for archives and libraries.*
MANUEL COLMEIRO.
—WII. Finances. The constitution of 1869 pro-
vided, that, in the ten days following the opening
of the cortes, which takes place Feb. 1 of each
year, the budgets of receipts and expenditures.
shall be presented, and that in no case, and under
no pretext, shall any payment be made, unless au-
thorized by law, and ordered by the minister of
finance. All the laws relative to public receipts.
and expenditures are considered as forming a part
of the budget, and are published under the same
heading. All the discussions to which it gives.
rise, and, in general, all the questions in which the
interests of tax payers are involved, must be first
laid before the chamber of deputies, and, in case
of disagreement between it and the senate, the
opinion of the chamber prevails. – As it may hap-
pen that the cortes can not always discuss and ap-
prove the budget and authorize the collection of
taxes, either on account of the numerical insuffi-
ciency of the deputies present, or in consequence
of the closing of the legislative session, or for any
other cause dependent on circumstances, the con-
* It was found, at the general census of 1860, that of the
total population of the kingdom, there were 2,414,015 men
and 715,906 women able to read and write; 316,557 men and
389,211 women able to read, but not to write; and that all the
rest, upward of 5,000,000 men and 6,800,000 women, could
neither read nor write. At the preceding census, of 1846, the
total number of persons of both sexes, able to write, was.
found to be no more than 1,221,001, while the total number
able to read was only 1,898,288, or considerably less than one-
fifth of the population. —In 1878. there were stated to be
29,600 schools in Spain for primary education, with 1,611,000
pupils. Middle-class education is given in fifty-eight public
colleges, by 757 professors, to 13,881 pupils. In first-class
education the most remarkable feature is the large number
of law students, namely, 3,755 in 1859–60, divided among ten
faculties. There were, at that date, ten faculties of literature
and philosophy, with 224 students; seven faculties of sciences,
with 141; four faculties of pharmacy, with 544; seven facul-
ties of medicine, with 1,718 ; and six faculties of theology,
with 339 students—in all, 6,181 students. The expenditure
for public education by the government amounted, on the
average of the last years, to rather less than £250,000.-F. M.
SPAIN.
775
stituent cortes have decided, that, if deputies and
senators, having met together at the place appointed
by the constitution, neglect to vote the taxes, the
receipts and expenditures shall be made in accord-
ance with the conditions established by the budget
of the preceding year. — This provision has been
criticised. Many think that it destroys the con-
stitutional principle, according to which no one is
obliged to pay a tax not voted by the cortes, or
the collection of which does not take place accord-
ing to the forms prescribed by law. “According
to the same principle, every public functionary,
who seeks to exact or exacts payment of a tax not
regularly authorized, is liable to the punishment
provided for illegal exactions.” There are also
persons who consider this provision contrary to
the rights of legislative power. But on examin-
ing the question dispassionately, it is clear that
this article is simply a complement of the funda-
mental law, and is applicable only in cases, really
very rare, in which the cortes could not or would
not vote the taxes and authorize their payment.
In other words, it is a law dictated by foresight,
a conditional law, to meet cases in which the arti-
cle of the constitution in question can not be car-
ried out. It is in no way opposed to the preroga-
tives of the cortes; its action is to avoid continuing
political parties in power indefinitely; it establishes
merely a common rule for the administration, the
government and the country, so that these three
moral powers may always continue living and
active. The administration makes its action felt
in all parts of the social body, the government
supervises all, and the country pursues its labors,
trusting confidently in the public powers. — But
to return to the budget. Each ministry fixes the
budget of the expenditures of its own department,
and presents it to the minister of finances, who
alone has authority to lay it before the cortes, ac-
companied. by a statement of the receipts, that is
to say, the means of meeting all obligations. The
budget is divided into two parts: the ordinary and
the ea traordinary. The first includes the expendi-
tures and receipts which have a permanent char-
acter, though their amount may be variable. The
second includes the transient or temporary receipts
and expenditures. They are both divided into
chapters, comprising all accounts of the same na-
ture, and then divided into as many headings as
are necessary for the determination of all details.
As regards the budget, there are general and con-
stant rules, sanctioned by time and by the laws:
1, the government can neither suppress nor modify
the receipts voted by parliament, nor decree new
ones; 2, it can not apply funds to any other use
than that determined by the law; 3, the budget
extends over one year, from July 1 to June 30, in-
clusive; accounts remain open for the following
six months, for final settlement, for the collection
of Outstanding sums, and the expenditures voted
for the said year; 4, in case it is necessary to incur
expenditure for which the legislature has provided
no credit, or when the sum granted is insufficient,
the government must, in the former case, ask the
cortes for an extraordinary credit, and, in the lat-
ter, an additional credit, stating the means of cov-
ering it; 5, if the cortes are not in session, and if
the expenditure for which a credit has not been
voted has a character of urgency, the government
may authorize it, on its own responsibility, either
by transferring a credit from one chapter to an-
other in the section to which the expenditure be-
longs, after having first informed the financial
section of the council of state of its action, and
deliberated upon it in the council of ministers, or
by an extraordinary or a supplementary credit,
covered (the council of state consenting) by the
fund of the floating debt of the treasury; 6, the
government is obliged to lay before the cortes, dur-
ing the first month of the session, a bill approving
the credits made during their absence; 7, every
head of a department, and every functionary, to
whatever class he may belong, is responsible to the
treasury for every amount paid beyond the credit
granted; 8, payments are made every month, after
the approval of the council of ministers. Besides
these financial rules recommended by legislation,
there are others whose utility has been recognized
in recent years, and which have at present the force
of law. They are the following: 1, in each law
relating to the finances, the sum which the float-
ing debt of the treasury should reach during the
year must be indicated in precise manner—it con-
stitutes, ordinarily, the third of the general budg-
et; 2, the government should transmit to the court
of accounts all the documents drawn up for the
purpose of procuring funds, so that if the court
discovers any illegality in them, it may report such
irregularity immediately to the cortes; 3, the same
court has to examine the grant or grants of credit,
and give its opinion on their legality. The min-
isters are responsible, and are subject to criminal
prosecution for any collection of money not au-
thorized by the cortes. Each minister orders the
expenditures of his own department; but the Or-
ders for payment are made by the minister of
finance, except so far as concerns the expenditures
of the ministry of war and marine, considered as
military bodies. These two ministries are respon-
sible for all payments unduly made, unless the
ministry of finance declares them valid. No court
can issue a writ of attachment or an execution on
funds of the state, either capital or interest. Every
sum due by the state, recognized and audited, the
payment of which is not demanded for five years,
, is confiscated to the benefit of the treasury.
|RUIZ GOMEZ.
— There have been no accounts of the actual pub-
lic revenue and expenditure of the kingdom pub-
lished since the year 1870–71, but only budget es-
timates. These differ, as will be seen from the
subjoined tabular statement, giving the budget
estimates of five financial periods, to an extent
such as to allow not even an approximate judg-
ment of the real receipts and disbursements.
There are, indeed, accounts of public revenue and
expenditure published monthly ; but the public
776
. SPAIN.
accounts have not been approved by parliament
since 1865–7; and the tribunal de cuentas has not
audited the accounts later than 1868–9. Accord-
ing to official returns, the following were the esti-
mated revenue and expenditure for the financial
years 1877–82:
YEARS. Revenue. Expenditure,
Peseta.S. Pesetas.
1877–8----------------------------- 736,000,000 || 735,750,000
1878-9----------------------------- 750,630,202 || 753,177,865
1879-80---------------------------- 778,478,388 806,590,940
1880-81---------------------------- 791,650,792 || 836,651,193
81-8----------------------------- 783,000,000 || 782,650,000
—The following are the budget estimates for the
year ending June 30, 1883:
REVENUE.
Pesetas.
Direct taxes------------------------------------- 230,979,000
Indirect taxes----------------------------------- 164,409,000
Customs ---------------------------------------- 115,458,000
Stamps and excise------------------------------ 21,585,000
Revenue from national property----------------- 28,860,225
Various------------------- ---------------------- 21,706,000
- Total.--------------------- ------------------ 782,997,225
IEXPENDITURE.
Pesetas.
Civil list.------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 9,800,000
Cortes ------------------------------------------ 1,859,250
Public debt------------------------------------- 223,023,056
Indemnities and pensions----------------------- 47,750,065
Ministry of president of Council----------------- 1,101,600
Ministry of foreign affairs--------------- ** *s as sº sº as sº as as 3,580,900
Ministry of justice ------------------------------ 51,625,675
Ministry of War --------------------------------- 126,272,700
Ministry of marine ------------------------------ 36,127,300
Ministry of interior ----------------------------- 45,369,000
Ministry of public Works------------------------ 90,117,400
Ministry of finance------------------------------ 20,531,925
State monopolies-------------------------------- 124,957,875
Various----------------------------------------- 522,520
Total -------- • , ºs as ºs s º as sº s is ºn as ºm º º ºs º ºn an º ºs º ºs s as as sº º ºs ºw ºw 782,639,250
—The minister of finance declared, in presenting
the budget for 1871–2, that the state was “on the
verge of bankruptcy,” from which it could be
saved only “by the most strenuous exertions, de-
voted both to raise the revenue, by the imposition
of new taxes and otherwise, and to depress the
expenditure to the lowest possible point.” The
latter recommendation has in recent years become
difficult of execution, on account of the large ex.
penditure connected with the civil war. In the
budget for 1870–71 the cost of the war department
was estimated at £4,730,321, while it was set down
in 1874–5 at £9,840,000, being about one-half of
the total revenue which it was expected would be
raised. But the army expenditure fell again to
under five millions in the budget of 1877–8, and
remained the same in the budgets of 1878–82.
Although in 1881–2 the budget estimate of the
revenue was £31,320,000, and the expenditure
$31,306,000, still, as in previous years, there was
a large deficit, and in October, 1881, the minister
of finance spoke in strong terms of the misman-
agement of his predecessors, and proposed a new
basis of financial administration, by which to rec-
tify past deficiencies and Secure a surplus in the
future. He proposed, as seen above, a budget for
1882–3, with a revenue of 782,997,225 pesetas, and
an expenditure of 782,639,250 pesetas. Efforts
were made again, in preparing the budget for
1883–4, to adopt extraordinary means to increase
the revenue, but without satisfactory results. –
The large and constantly increasing annual defi-
cits, dating from the reign of Queen Isabel, were
covered, partly by loans, partly by extraordinary
taxation (such as “exemptions from military serv-
ice,” figuring in the budget of 1874–5), and partly
by the sale of national property, formerly belong-
ing to churches, convents and monasteries. – The
following is a statement of the Spanish debt on
Sept. 1, 1881:

- Pesetas.
5 per cent. consolidated, due to United States 3,000,000
3 { { consolidated, due to Denmark---- 3,250,000
1 { % external debt---------------------- 4,092,894,000
1 & 4 internal debt.---------------------- 3,245,160,194
1 { { bonds inscribed in favor of corpo-
rations-------------------------- 20,784,433
1. & 4 bonds inscribed in favor of clergy- 14,332,005
2 & 4 bonds for public Works------------ 21,578,000
2 & 4 Subventions to railways----------- 614,409,000
Old debts convertible into internal 3 per cents. 204,088,175
2 per cent. external redeemable debt----------- 254,402,000
2 & 6 internal redeemable debt----------- 471,647,821
1 { % bills------------------------------- 170,326
Arrears --------------------------------------- 9,567,895
3 per cent. Securities of guarantees------------ 2,685,486,250
Total.------------------------------------- 12,503,327,576
— In a report of the government of the king Al-
fonso XII., dated July, 1875, it was stated that
none of the national creditors could hope to be
satisfied “without having recourse to credit op-
erations at an enormous rate of interest, which in
a short time doubles the original debt.” By a
complicated process of conversion, arranged in
1881–2, the various classes of Spanish debt are
to be converted into “new 4 per cents,” where-
by the actual capital will probably be reduced
to £338,000,000, bearing an annual charge of
£9,500,000, equal to about 11s. per head of the
population. In addition to this, the state has in-
curred obligations in respect to theisland of Cuba,
estimated at over £10,000,000. F. M.
— VIII. Army and Navy. The Spanish army
was composed, in 1874, of 70,000 infantry, 13,000
cavalry, 3,000 engineers, 14,000 artillery; besides
40,000 infantry of the reserve, 12,000 custom
house employés, 12,000 police and 3,000 militia of
the Canary islands. In these figures are not in-
cluded the 23,000 to 24,000 men of all arms then
garrisoned in Cuba, the 3,400 at Port Rico, and
the 11,000 of the Philippine islands. – The law
of February, 1873, on the reorganization of the
army abolished conscription by lot, and replaced
it by voluntary recruitment. The recruitment
takes place in the capitals of the provinces, in pro-
portions to be fixed annually by a special law of
the cortes. The voluntary recruit must not be less
than nineteen nor more than forty years of age.
The duration of service is two years for a new re-
cruit, and one in case of re-enlistment, with a
chance for the recruit of remaining for life in the
SPAIN.
777
active army, and enjoying the benefit of promo-
tion in the order of merit and seniority. Volun-
tary recruits receive pay amounting to one piécette
(1 franc) per day, payable weekly. The reserve
(which remains at home) comprises all young men
who, on the first of January of each year, shall
bave completed their twentieth year. The gov-
ernment may mobilize the reserve forces within
the limits of the province to which they respect-
ively belong, by a simple decree of the govern-
ment; it may also mobilize them in their respective
military districts, by decree, when the cortes are
not in Session; but in this case the government
must inform the assembly as soon as it resumes
its labors. In all other cases mobilization can take
place only by virtue of a law. — The requirement
of a certain stature, as a condition for military
service, is abolished in the regular army; it is only
necessary to show that the recruit is sufficiently
strong and robust in health to form a part of the
military force. Voluntary recruits for the active
army are exempt from the reserve. The term of
service in the reserve is three years. The first
year is spent in the ranks, to receive military in-
struction.
men enrolled in the reserve may be called to active
service, in case of war, in which contingency a
law of the cortes is necessary. Young men of
seventeen years may also be admitted into the re-
serve, if their physical constitution permits them
to enter the service. — Instruction is given to sol-
diers of the infantry, artillery and engineers, by
the officers of the corps; but the cavalry must
pass through training institutions. In each corps
there are Schools for soldiers, non-commissioned
officers, and officers, in which they are instructed
in their own duties and in those of the grade im-
mediately above them. In the infantry cadets are
admitted, whom an officer instructs in the branches
necessary to pass the examination as sub-lieuten-
ants. The places of sub-lieutenant not filled by
non-commissioned officers and cadets, are reserved
for the graduates of the infantry college at Tole-
do. These graduates, admitted at the age of four-
teen or fifteen years, remain, after examination,
three years at School, then enter the regiments,
where they pass successively, in the course of six
months, through all the inferior grades, before
they are appointed sub-lieutenants. A similar col-
lege exists at Walladolid for the cavalry; the grad-
uates follow the same course to become cornets.
The artillery has its college at Segovia, the stu-
dents (who lodge there as in the preceding two)
remain four years, at the end of which time they
become attendants of the school of application,
from which, after two years, they issue as lieu-
tenants of the corps. The school of engineering
is at Guadalajara. Applicants for admission must
be from sixteen to twenty-five years of age, and
pass an examination to enter as day scholars, ac-
Cording to their merit, either in the preparatory
course, or in that of the first year. After the
Course of the second year, those not already oc-
cupying that rank are made sub-lieutenants; after
During the other two years, young
four years they obtain the grade of lieutenant.
For the staff School, situated at Madrid, the con-
ditions are nearly the same as for the school of
engineering. At the end of four years the lieu-
tenants pass into the infantry, then into the cav-
alry, in order to familiarize themselves during
fifteen months with all the details and accounts;
they visit the different military establishments
during six months, before receiving their final
appointment. There is also a college at Madrid
for aspirants to employment in military admin-
istration ; the course there lasts four years. —
Justice is administered, in the case of soldiers,
by military councils of war, presided over by
commanders of corps, or the local governor, ac-
cording to circumstances, and composed of six
members. The sentence is laid before the cap-
tain general, who, aided by his auditor, affirms
or reverses it; in the latter case it is referred to the
supreme tribunal of the army and navy. In the
case of officers, the council is composed of general
officers, and presided over by the captain general,
assisted by the auditor, who does not, however,
take part in the deliberations. The head of the
state decides in the last resort, on the advice of the
supreme tribunal. The sentence may be carried
into immediate execution, and without appeal, if
it does not involve loss of employment or life;
nevertheless, it is always submitted to the approval
of the chief of the state. Offenses and ordinary
misdemeanors are judged by the captain general,
assisted by his auditor; the case is then presented to
the king. Directors general may order investiga-
tions against officers; they then present the case
to the king, who decides, with the advice of the
supreme tribunal. The artillery, engineers and
the military administration have special tribunals.
Besides the auditor and the procurator connected
with the chief towns of the district, the military
governors are obliged to consult an assessor.”—The
navy consisted, according to official returns, of the
following vessels afloat and under construction,
in 1882 :
First Class : Guns.
5 ironclad frigates--------------------- .* an as s sº s as sº sº º ºs is sº is 60
12 screw frigates ------------------------------------- 228
8 paddle Steamers----------------------------------- 9
Second Class :
5 paddle steamers----------------------------------- 12
11 screw steamers--------- • g º ºs = * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 39
3 Screw transports ---------------------------------- 4
* The army of Spain, reorganized in 1868, after the model
of that of France, was modified as to its organization by sub-
sequent laws in 1877, 1878 and 1882. Under the new military
law, the armed forces of the kingdom consist : 1, of a per-
manent army; 2, of a first or active reserve; and 3, of a sec-
ond or sedentary reserve. All Spaniards past the age of
twenty are liable to be drawn for the permanent army, in
which they have to serve three years; they then pass for
three years into the first or active reserve, and then for six
years into the second reserve. Any one may purchase ex-
emption from service by a payment of about $300. — The
strength of the permanent army of the peninsula for 1882–3
was put down at 94,810 men; while for Cuba the number was
26,579; Porto Rico, 3,318; and the Philippines, 10,035. Of
the infantry there are 140 battalions, and of the cavalry
twenty-four regiments ; six regiments of artillery, and ten
battalions of pioneers. The civic guard consists of fifteen
regiments, with 780 officers and 14,756 men.
778
SPAIN.
Third Class : Guns
1 ironclad monitor---------------------------------- 3
2 floating batteries---------------------------------- 5
19 Screw steamers------------------------------------ 35
26 screw gunboats ----------------------------------- 26
1 paddle gunboat -----------------------------------
7 paddle steamers----------------------------------- 14
1 Screw transport ----------------------------------- 2
4 pilot Sailing Vessels------------------------------. * *
TJnclassified :
1 steamer ------------------------------------------- 2
3 Cadet Corvettes------------------------------------ 40
29 Small Screw gunboats.----------------------------- 37
2 torpedo boats------------------------------------- * tº
132 Wessels. Total guns---------------- 517
Total horse power of engines, 26,067.
—The navy of Spain was manned, in 1879, by
14,000 sailors, and 7,033 marines, and commanded
by one admiral, seven vice and rear admirals, and
644 commissioned officers of various grades. The
navy, like the army, is recruited by conscription,
naval districts for this purpose being formed along
the coast, among the seafaring population. The
number inscribed on these naval conscription lists
of men between eighteen and thirty years was re-
ported to be 72,000 at the end of June, 1875. —
IX. Resources, Trade and Industry. Agriculture
is the most important branch of activity in Spain,
where there is reason to believe that, of 100 inhab-
itants, 75 cultivate the soil. The land cultivated
comprises 1,150,200 hectares of irrigated land and
25,393,637 hectares not irrigated. The Basque
provinces and Navarre refuse all information on
this subject. It results from these figures, and
from those which may be assigned to the wooded
country, that there still remain about ten million
hectares upon which human industry has not yet
been exercised. — The total imports and exports
of Spain were as follows, in each of the five years
1877–81 :
YEARS Imports. Exports.
Pesetas. Pesetas.
1877------------------------------- 538,350,000 || 515,900,000
1878------------------------------- 397,800,000 || 429,300,000
1879------------------------------- 443,300,000 || 503,900,000
1880------------------------------- 473,500,000 544,300,000
1881------------------------------ 496,400,000 || 591,300,000
Among the importing countries, Great Britain
and France stand first; but in exports, the former
holds the first rank. — The merchant navy of the
kingdom consisted, on Jan. 1, 1881, of 2,236 ves-
sels, of a total burden of 560,125 tons, comprising
347 steamers, of 233,686 tons. At the commence-
ment of 1860 there were 6,715 vessels, of 449,436
tons burden, and at the commencement of 1868
the number of vessels had fallen to 4,840, and the
total tonnage to 367,790, showing a decrease in
the eight years of 1,975 vessels, of an aggregate
burden of 81,696 tons. There was an increase in
tonnage, it will be seen from the preceding figures,
of 192,355 tons, in the thirteen years from 1868 to
1881. — The length of railways in Spain, on Jan.
1, 1880, was 6,550 kilometres, or 4,067 English
miles; and 2,000 kilometres, or 1,242 English
miles, were in course of construction. The whole
of the Spanish railways belong to private Com-
panies, but nearly all have obtained guarantees,
or subventions, from the government. During
the reign of Alfonso alone 2,000 miles of new
lines have been opened, and 3,000 more were in
course of construction in 1882. — The postoffice
carried 85,210,000 letters and post cards in the
year 1878. There were 2,592 postoffices on Jan.
1, 1879. — The length of lines of state telegraphs
of Spain, on Jan. 1, 1880, was 16,124 kilometres,
or 10,070 English miles, and the length of wire
40,405 kilometres, or 25,150 English miles. In
the year 1880 the total number of telegraph mes-
Sages was 2,222,429; one-fourth of the whole
number being international, and one-fifth of the
remaining number administrative, dispatches. –
X. Colonies. The colonial possessions of Spain,
formerly embracing nearly the whole of America,
are reduced at present to Cuba, Porto Rico and the
Philippine islands, with scattered settlements in
the Atlantic and Indian archipelagos, a small strip
of territory in northern Africa, and another strip
claimed on the west coast of Morocco. The total
area of these possessions is 164,926 English square
miles. The total population, according to returns
mostly for 1877–80, numbered 6,399,347. These
returns state the area and population of the vari-
Ous possessions as follows:
COLONIAL POSSESSIONS. Area. Population.
Eng. Sq. Miles.
1. Possessions in America :
Cuba.-------------------------- 43,220 1,424,619.
Porto Rico.-------------------- 3,550 754,313
Total in America---------- 46,770 2,178,932
2. Possessions in Asia : -
Philippine islands------------- 114,326 6,300,000
Caroline islands and Palaos---- 560 }
Marvan islands---------------- 420 8,665
Total in Asia------------ -- 115,306 6,344,665.
3. Possessions in Africa :
Fernando Po, Ammabon, Co-
resco, Elobey, San Juan----- 850 35,000
Total possessions---------- 162,926 8,558,597

The population of Cuba, at the census of Dec. 31,
1877, was distributed as follows: Whites, 764,164;
free negroes, 344,050; negro slaves, 227,902; and
Chinese, 58,400. The number of slaves from
1870 to 1877 decreased by 136,000. But the total
number of inhabitants also decreased by 20,500
during the same period. — Spain is the only Euro-
pean state which still permits the existence of
slavery in its colonies. A bill for the abolition of
slavery in Porto Rico was passed by the national
assembly on March 23, 1873, while a bill for the
gradual abolition of slavery in Cuba was laid be-
fore the cortes in November, 1879, supported by
the government. The bill provides, that, on the
promulgation of the law embodying it, all slaves
from fifty-five and upward shall become free; that
slaves from fifty to fifty-five shall be liberated on
Sept. 17, 1880; from forty-five to fifty, in Septem-
ber, 1882; from forty to forty-five, in 1884; from
thirty-five to forty, in 1886; and from thirty to
SPECULATION.
779
thirty-five in 1888. Those under thirty shall be
emancipated in 1890. From 1880 a sum of 100,000
piastres was to be annually set apart in the Cuban
budget for defraying the expense of the emancipa-
tion of the slaves, the price to be paid to the own-
ers being fixed at 350 piastres for each slave. —
Cuba is divided into three provinces, the southeast
and central being the richest and most populous,
containing twenty-two cities and towns, and 204
villages and hamlets. – BIBLIOGRAPHY. Niñano,
Diccionario-geografico, estadistico, historico de Es-
paña y sus provincias de ultramar, Madrid, 1846–
50; Block, L'Espagne en 1850, Paris, 1851; Lest-
garens, La Situation économique et industrielle de
l'Espagne en 1860, Brussels, 1861; Garrido, La
España contemporanea, Barcelona, 1865; Germond
de Lavigne, L’Espagne et le Portugal, Paris, 1867;
Thieblin, Spain and the Spaniards, 2 vols., Lon-
don, 1874; Memorias del instituto geografico y esta-
distico, Madrid, 1875, etc.; Chervin, Statistique du
ſmouvement de la population en Espagne de 1865 &
1869, Paris, 1876; El movimiento del estado civil in
España desde 1861 & 1870, Madrid, 1877; Guia
official de España, Madrid, 1878; Lafuente, His-
toria general de España, Madrid, 1850–67, 30 vols.;
Tapia, Historia de la civilisazion de España, 7 vols.,
Madrid, 1861–4; Montesa y Manrique, Historia de
la legislacion, etc., de España, Madrid, 1864; Rico
y Amat, Historia politica y parlamentaria de Es-
paña, 3 vols., Madrid, 1860–62; Alfaro, Com-
pendio de la Historia de España, 3 vols., Madrid,
1862. F. M.
SPEAKER. (See PARLIAMENTARY L.Aw.)
SPEAKERS. (See Congress, SESSIONs of.)
SPECULATION, in some form or other, has
existed under every commercial system; but the
forms under which it is now largely conducted,
and the enormous extent of the speculative trans-
actions, are peculiar to the present age. It is with
the discussion of these forms—their character,
their development, and their more immediate ef-
fects—that this article is concerned. (For the
more wide-reaching effects of the speculative spir-
it upon credit, business and production, see arti-
cles on COMMERCIAL CRISES, and on OVER-PRO-
DUCTION.) — Until the present century the chief
field for speculative operatiºns was furnished by
the difference of price of the same commodity in
different places. Mercantile profits were made by
buying in a cheap market and selling in a dear
one; and with the imperfect means of communi-
cating intelligence, and the slow and generally
hazardous means of transportation, such specula-
tions often involved great risks and offered the
chance of correspondingly high profits. But the
modern development of the postoffice, of steam
transportation, and especially of the telegraph,
changed all this. Abundance in one market, and
scarcity in another, was no longer possible except
on a limited scale or through artificial obstruc-
tions. The telegraph gives notice of the inequal-
crisis.
ity in its first beginnings; and, long before it can
reach an extreme, cargoes have been diverted from
the full market to the empty one. Indications
which once could be seized only by men of
exceptional position and sagacity, are now the
common property of the whole business public.
—But the opportunities for men of exceptional
position and Sagacity have been extended in
another direction more than they have been cur-
tailed here. The state of the markets at distant
places may be known to every one; but it is still
only the few that can foresee their state at distant
times. The information that has set narrow lim-
its to speculation in place has furnished the neces-
sary basis to an infinitely more important and
wide-reaching speculation in time. The differ-
ence in price between New York and Chicago,
apart from temporary disturbing causes, can never
be greater than the cost of carriage (in its widest
sense) between the two places, because we have in
the one place telegraphic information concerning
the markets of the other. If we had the same
certain knowledge of prices at future times, the
prices of goods to-day and a month hence could
not differ by more than the cost of holding those
goods for that length of time. It is, of course,
impossible to have such knowledge; and the few
who have the power to foresee or to manipulate
the course of the market are enabled to turn these
price variations to their own account. Before
the invention of the telegraph, such dealing in
futures would have been a blind game of chance;
now, there is just such a combination of indica-
tions and uncertainties as to give scope to business
talent of the highest order. Here lies the expla-
nation of what is peculiar in the speculation of
the present day. — In a healthy state of business
these variations in price are not very large or
rapid; often not large or rapid enough to make
speculative dealings pay the interest of the capital
required. But such a state of things is almost
always disturbed by a sudden rise in the price of
certain classes of goods, or perhaps by a general
rise of prices. A sudden increase in the demand
or decrease in the supply of a particular article
will produce the former result; inflation of the
currency, increased production of the precious
metals, or, sooner or later, the unrestricted exten-
sion of business credits, will produce the latter.
The holder of goods of the classes affected sees
himself nominally the richer for every day that
goes by, and with this apparent increase of wealth
comes a desire on the part of every one to hold
more goods and stocks, even if they have to bor-
row money to do so. This shows itself, not merely
in the operations of the stock and produce ex-
changes, but in business speculations of every
kind; most of all, perhaps, in the extension of spec-
ulative production, which lies outside the scope
of the present article. This holding for a rise is
the form of speculation which presents most at-
tractions for the general public; and a speculative
mania is often developed which can only end in a
This mania may attach itself to particular
780
SPECULATION.
lines of investment, as to tulips in Holland in
1634–8, to South sea bubbles in England in 1720,
to manufactures in 1815 and 1825, to the English
railways in 1846, or the American railways (among
other things) in 1871–3. Often it may be more
general in connection with the indiscriminate ex-
tension of credit, as in the years preceding 1837
and 1857; or, worse yet, in connection with cur-
rency inflation, as seen in France at the time of
John Law’s bank, 1718–20, in the assignats of the
French revolution, or in our own recent experi-
ences; where every exporter or importer, and indi-
rectly, every business man, is obliged to be in-
volved against his will in speculation on gold. —
In such speculative periods, with unsettled and
generally advancing prices, the more prudent busi-
ness men are thus obliged to have recourse to con-
tracts for future delivery of goods at definite prices.
The builder can not safely make a contract for a
fixed sum unless he knows what his materials will
cost a few months hence. The cotton manufact-
urer can not arrange lais basis of production and
scale of prices unless he knows what his raw ma-
terial will cost him from time to time. If a planter
or cotton factor agrees to deliver him his material
from time to time at determinate prices, the man-
ufacturer knows where he is likely to stand. Here
is a transaction, speculative in form as far as con-
cerns the broker, but in reality a defense against
the evils of speculation. The manufacturer knows
what he can probably afford to pay, the producer
knows for what he can probably afford to sell.
Of the unavoidable risk, each party takes the part
concerning which he can best judge, and against
which he can best protect himself This is an
exceptionally favorable case. The majority of
those who sell “short,” i. e., who engage to deliver
goods which they do not hold, rely not so much
upon sources of supply which they represent, as
upon their judgment concerning the future move-
ments of the market. Yet even in this case their
influence may be healthful, and their work legiti-
mate. It has been said that the general public is
fond of speculating for a rise. Now, a man of spe-
cial training, and special sources of information,
can often see clearly where the general public
is mistaken, and by selling short at the high prices,
and obtaining the means of meeting his obligations
at the lower ones, may take advantage of the pub-
lic mistakes, and at the same time render a service
to the market in steadying prices. As transac-
tions of this kind multiply, it is inevitable that
they should fall more and more into the hands of
brokers, and that these brokers should organize
exchanges for the purpose of more easily deal-
ing with one another. These last are of modern
growth. The germ of the New York stock ex-
change seems to have existed at the close of the
last century, but its regular organization dates
from 1817. The Chicago produce exchange is
scarcely thirty years old. These means of com-
munication have greatly facilitated bona fide trans-
actions; but, with their growth, gambling trans-
actions have grown up about them to such an ex-
tent as often to hide the bona fide transactions from
view. — The first step in this direction has been
the habit of dealing upon margins; that is, of not
making full payment at the time of the first en-
gagement, but of depositing a sufficient sum to
insure the broker against loss by change in the
price. It is hard to draw the line where such
transactions lose their boma fide character; the de-
posit of a margin may simply be a convenient and
perfectly legitimate way of extending business
credit. But where the marginal idea is carried
through the transaction, and settlement is effected,
not by an actual delivery and payment, but by a
payment of the difference in price at the two pe-
riods, with no delivery at all, we have a complete
departure from the original character of the trans-
action. It is now nothing more than a wager on
the change of price of the stocks or goods in ques-
tion, somewhat cloaked under the forms of legit-
imate business. In the next stage of speculation,
by “puts,” “calls,” and “spreads,” even these
forms are cast aside. In the first of these a man
buys of a broker, for a small consideration, the
right to deliver a certain quantity of stock at a
specified price within a specified time; in the sec-
ond, he buys the right to receive it; in the third,
he buys for a considerably larger price the right
of delivering or receiving as he may choose.
They are thus, even in form, simply wagers on
the price movement. — We have spoken of the
outside public as generally speculating for a rise,
and the more practiced operators for a fall. Of
course there are numerous exceptions to the latter;
and it is precisely these exceptions, when they
take the shape of corners, that make the most im-
pression upon the public mind. In its principles
a corner does not differ from any other monopoly.
An individual or a ring who once secure the
whole or nearly the whole marketable stock of a
commodity, have, of course, the power to fix the
price as long as that state of things continues.
But in the case of ordinary attempts at monopoly
the buyers have usually the advantage of being
able to diminish their consumption for the time
being, and to wait for the advent of competing
sources of supply. But the bear, who has sold
short, has neither of these advantages. He must
deliver a fixed quantity, and must do it within a
fixed time. He has no choice but to do that or
fail; and the operatorºwho can control the Supply
of a stock in the market for a comparatively short
time can charge any one who has sold that Stock
short any price up to what will drive him to abso-
lute failure. Just as it is the public fondness for
speculating for a rise that makes it possible and
profitable for the street to sell futures, so it is the
readiness of the street to sell futures that makes it
possible and profitable for large operators to engi-
neer a corner. — In spite of the strong impression
that they make upon the public imagination, suc-
cessful corners in stocks are by no means so com-
mon as is generally supposed. The important
ones in New York have been the Morris canal cor-
ner of 1835, the Harlem corners of 1863 and 1864,
SPECULATION.
781
Prairie du Chien of 1865, North-Western of 1867,
and Hannibal & St. Joseph of 1881. Even in these
it is not always certain that the bulls make the
profits they appear to,
extort enormous sums; but after the Settlement
they find themselves holders of masses of stocks,
which they have usually bought somewhat above
its normal figures; and the price at which they can
ultimately dispose of this stock is an important
element in the question of their success. But
it is extremely difficult to carry a stock corner
forward to its completion. The Michigan South-
ern corner of 1865—apparently a very Safe Opera-
tion, since the cornerer was buying property which
he really wanted—was broken by an issue of con-
struction stock. So also in an attempt to COrner
Milwaukee & St. Paul, and so twice in the history
of Erie. The substitution of preferred for com-
mon stock has had the same effect. A still Com-
moner source of failure, which it is impossible to
guard against, is the treachery of individual mem-
bers of a cornering pool. — Corners in produce
are a growth of the most recent years; yet they
already exceed stock corners in frequency, and
still more in economic importance. It is but a
short time since writers regarded corners in a
commodity like wheat as almost an impossibility;
so varied are the sources of supply, so apparently
impossible is it for one man to control them. But
these writers had not foreseen the development of
short sales and paper contracts which should make
a temporary control of a particular market SO
thoroughly effective toward securing this end.
The extent to which speculative Sales of produce
have grown is almost inconceivable. The statis-
tician of the New York produce exchange testified
that nine-tenths of its dealings were purely spec-
ulative. The same fact is more strikingly brought
out by a comparison of the quantities of produce
actually brought to New York in 1882 with those
nominally sold.
PRODUCE. Sales. Receipts.
Wheat---------------------bushels 647,147,000 44,736,000
Corn----------------------- ( & 443,091,000 | 16,399,000
Oats.----------------------- § { 150,524,000 | 15,905,000
Cotton ----------------------- bales 30,049,000 600,000
Petroleum------------------ barrels 1,524,887,000 | 10,500,000
As compared with 1881 the increase in these spec-
ulative sales is probably more than one-third,
while the actual quantity of products delivered
has, on the whole, diminished. In fact, flour
seems to be the only produce of first-rate impor-
...tance which still maintains its non-speculative
character. The pretended sales of wheat for
1882, as our table shows, were more than fourteen
times the quantity received. The Sales of cotton
were five times the entire crop, fifty times the whole
quantity received in New York, and two hundred
times the actual deliveries in the New York mar-
, ket. In the oil business it has been even worse.
The recorded sales in November alone amounted
to nine times the entire stock in the country, or to
For the time being they |
four hundred millions of produce in 1882. In
Liverpool they are no better, in spite of more
135 times the production for the month. (For a
fuller exhibit of these facts, see “Public,” Jan. 4,
1883.) In Chicago matters are almost the same
—three thousand millions of sales on less than
apparent compliance with the forms of delivery.
A single consignment of a hundred bales of cotton
has nominally changed hands one hundred and
fifty times before sale for bona fide consumption.
When the whole amount available for the year's
use in Europe and America has been less than
7,000,000 bales, the year's contracts for future de-
livery have amounted to 80,000,000 bales. Thus
Liverpool has been the centre of cotton corners
in the latter half of successive years beginning in
1879, and seriously disturbing legitimate business.
Meantime we have had in America (usually Cen-
tring in Chicago), the wheat corners of 1879,
1881 and 1882, the pork corner of 1879 and 1880,
and more or less successful attempts at many
others, scarcely less wide-reaching than these in
their effects. – The attempts to meet these evils
by legislation have had little success. Legislative
inquiries, like that of the New York committee on
corners, have proved abortive ; enactments like
those of Illinois in 1874 have been inoperative.
Only to a limited extent have the courts been able
or willing to interfere, by making it impossible for
speculators to sue on their contracts. It was in-
deed held, in a few English cases in the early part
of the century, that a contract of sale for future
delivery of what a person does not now hold, was
void ; but in the business developments and ne-
cessities of the time it was of course impossible.
to maintain that doctrine. It is now held, that
such a contract is valid if, at the time it was
made, either party intended it should be fulfilled.
In order that the court should regard it as a
gambling contract, it must be proved that neither
party regarded it as more than a wager on price
variations. But practically the courts do not
do much even within these narrow limits. Un-
less they are supported by the public opinion
of the boards of trade and similar organizations,
it is in the power of these last to inflict upon any
dealer who may have recourse to the courts, pen-
alties in the way of loss of business facilities for
which he can obtain no adequate compensation.
Add to this, that the courts, as in a recent case in
Illinois, have often shown unwillingness to enter
upon the consideration of matters of this kind,
and we see how inadequate are the legal defenses
against the present state of things. – The difficul-
ty of dealing with the evils of the system is en-
hanced by popular ignorance as to just what the
evils are, and where they really lie; and by a pop-
ular prejudice, too often embodied in legislation,
against operations which are sometimes necessary,
sometimes beneficial, and at the worst only indi-
rectly responsible for the evils which have grown
up in connection with them. Of such mistaken
legislation a striking instance was offered in the

year 1864, when speculation in gold was forbidden.
782
SPOILS SYSTEM.
The law, under the pressure of public Sentiment
at that time, was obeyed; but its results were the
very reverse of what the public had anticipated.
The event proved that gold speculation had been
a means of steadying the market; without it, gold
rose 100 per cent. in two weeks, and then dropped
50 per cent. at the hurried repeal of the prohibi-
tion. What the speculators did for the gold mar-
ket was again seen in 1866, when they attempted
to keep the necessary stock of gold in the country
in view of the increasing European demand; but
the treasury department, with less foresight, ex-
erted itself to counteract the rise in the gold pre-
mium which these speculators seemed to be pro-
ducing. It succeeded at the time, but at the cost
of a greater subsequent rise, which these specula-
tions would have largely enabled us to avoid. So
of the cotton speculators of 1868, who seeing the
mistake of public judgment, bought up the cot-
ton which we were exporting to Liverpool at a
very low figure, and, a few months later, sold at a
high figure to the manufacturers, who would other-
wise have had to reimport. They made fortunes
by so doing, and thus excited public prejudice;
but the American public was in every way better
off for their operations. The planter obtained a
higher price than he could otherwise have done,
the manufacturer paid a lower price; the expense
of double transportation was saved; the specula-
tive difference of price remained in American
hands instead of going to Liverpool; and the
chief mistake made by the speculators, in point
of serving public interest, was in not carrying
their operations still further. (“N. Y. Nation,”
vol. vii., p. 85.)— That is a typical case. If a
speculator is simply aiming to forestall the move-
ment of the market, and not to manipulate it, he
undoubtedly confers a public benefit in so far as
he is himself successful; and so great a public
benefit that no one need grudge him his profit.
His work tends to steady prices, to diminish the
difference between producers’ and consumers’
prices in a rising market, to break the shock of a
falling market. But it is almost impossible for a
speculator to resist the temptation to manipulate
as well as forestall price changes; and when he
succeeds in so doing, he increases just those evils
which he would otherwise diminish. If he works
on a small scale, it may be by the circulation of
false rumors or the show of false appearances, per-
haps even by Securing false management of the
property; if he works on a large scale, it may be
by securing a corner. — Corners in stocks can
hardly be a direct source of evil to the general
public. With produce corners it is different.
The investor can easily do without a particular
stock; he may be glad to take advantage of the
high price to sell it. But the consumer can not
even for a short time do without his food; and
a corner in wheat or pork may become a seri-
ous matter to him. A speculative monopoly of
this kind is probably no worse than any other
monopoly. Permanent monopoly of coal or oil
may work more lasting injury than a temporary
corner in wheat. The former settles things on a
wrong basis. The latter unsettles things from
their right basis. By preventing regular trans-
portation, it prevents cheap transportation; by
preventing regular export, it spoils our foreign
market. How far it actually disturbs the prices
paid by consumers remains an open question.
Witnesses before the New York committee, ap-
parently well informed and candid, differed di-
rectly on this point. The Liverpool cotton corners
are estimated to have temporarily raised the prices
paid by manufacturers more than 10 per cent.
An able article by H. D. Lloyd in the “North
American Review” for August, 1883, shows how,
in recent corners, flour, a non-speculative article,
has varied more than 50 per cent., in sympathy
with the variations of wheat. It is not probable
that this affects the consumer quite as badly as
would at first sight appear; the quantities sold
at the highest price are probably comparatively
small, and the shock is so slowly distributed among
the middlemen that before it reaches the mass of
consumers the reaction has already begun. With
our present incomplete statistics of retail sales,
we must reserve judgment on this point. The
gist of the matter is, not that a corner is worse
than any other kind of monopoly; not necessarily
that it is as bad as any other kind of monopoly; but
that, under the present system, men will undertake
a corner who could not undertake any other kind
of monopoly. If there are ten times as many con-
tracts on a small wheat supply, Operators can af-
ford to make ten times the effort to control that
supply. If those contracts must be fulfilled within
a limited time, the operator has only to control
the supply for that time. A system of short Sales
makes such a temporary monopoly possible. Each
additional speculative contract is so much addition
to its possible profits. – Besides the articles al-
ready referred to, see International Review, vol.
ii., p. 818; Bankers’ Magazine (N. Y.), vol. xxxvi.,
p. 308; Nineteenth Century, vol. x., p. 532.
ARTHUR T. HADLEY.
SPOILS SYSTEM, The. This phrase desig-
nates a theory of politics and a use of official au-
thority—more especially that of appointment and
removal—according to which the merits of can-
didates and the general welfare are subordinated
to the selfish interests of individuals, factions or
parties. The range of this subordination is very
great. It extends all the way from the case of a
party which, honestly holding none but its fol-
lowers to be fit for a clerkship, selects the best of
them, but bars the gates of office against all others, .
down to the faction leaders, who, excluding all
but their own henchmen, corruptly make promo-
tions for money, and promise places for votes; all
the way from the great officer who, hardly con-
scious of wrong, accepts for the party the offer.
ings of his subordinates, down to the official robber
who mercilessly demands the places or the money
of those serving under him; all the way from the
head of a bureau or a department who requests
SPOILS SYSTEM.
783
more clerks, that they may work for his party, or
serve as waiters or coachmen in his own family,
down to the legislators who vote appropriations
in aid of their re-election, and city aldermen who
bribe electors by corrupt contracts, and conciliate
thieves, gamblers and grog-shop keepers by wink-
ing at their offenses. – It is doubtless vain to ex-
pect that in politics there will ever be such unsel-
fish regard for merit and duty as to exclude every
shade of that system, and perhaps there will al-
ways be various questions as to the moral aspects
of which honest men will disagree. The limits of
the spoils system in its practical application at
any time can not, therefore, be precisely stated;
nor can we any more precisely state where the
merit system begins.” But it is, nevertheless, a
great advantage to have convenient phrases, which,
like the spoils system, and the merit System, distinct-
ly mark those extreme and incompatible theories
and methods in politics and administration of
which the people readily take notice for approval
or rebuke. In reference to these systems, all of-
ficers and politicians may be readily and usefully
classified. Which system does a great politician
or officer defend or practice? must always be an
important question. — The phrase “spoils system”
appears to have had its origin in a speech made in
January, 1832, by Mr. Marcy, of New York, in
the senate of the United States, in which (in speak-
ing of the politicians of his day, and especially of
New York politicians) he said, “When they are
contending for victory, they avow the intention of
enjoying the fruits of it. If they are defeated,
they expect to retire from office. If they are suc-
cessful, they claim, as matter of right, the ad-
vantages of success. They see nothing wrong in the
Tule that to the victor belong the spoils of the enemy.”
(Gale & Seaton's Congressional Debates, vol. viii.,
part 1, p. 1325.) — The system of the pirate and
the highwayman, thus defended, had been for
some years growing in and poisoning our politics.
It was only this open and shameless avowal of it
which was original with Mr. Marcy. In the arti-
cle on TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE, some facts
are given tending to show that the earliest prac-
tice according to that system was in New York.
It was not unnatural that the first unblushing
avowal of it, at Washington, should be made by
a Senator from that state. Among the maxims of
Col. Burr for the guidance of politicians, one of the
most prominent was, that the people at elections
were to be managed by the same rules of discipline
as the soldiers of an army; that a few leaders were
to think for the masses, and that the latter were to
obey implicitly their leaders. * * He had, there-
* The phrase “merit system " was first used in Eaton's
“Civil Service in Great Britain,” and it is sufficiently defined
by saying that it is everywhere the very opposite of the spoils
system, in both theory and method. The merit of a candi-
date, the merit of a bill or the merit of a policy are equally
the basis of all just claim for support. A system which
everywhere, in politics and official life, holds merit to be a
decisive test, must everywhere recognize the public interests
as paramount. Such a system is as thoroughly democratic
and republican as it is thoroughly just.
fore, great confidence in the machinery of a party,”
etc. (Statesman's Manual, vol. ii., p. 1139.) New
York has never lost the art, so aptly and early
taught by Burr, of making and running party
machines. Jenkins, in his “History of Parties in
New York,” (p. 227), tells us, that “before 1820
the spoils system had been so far matured in that
state, that Gov. Clinton, in that year, complained
in a message ‘of an organized and disciplined corps
of federal officers interfering in state elections.’”
Mr. Hammond, in his “Political History of New
York,” and speaking of its early politics, declares,
“ that party spirit had raged in this more than in
any other state of the Union.” Mr. Van Buren's
relation to the system appears in the article last
cited. The unparalleled abuses in past years at
the New York postoffice and custom house, and
the municipal, judicial and other corruptions as-
sociated with the names of Barnard, McCunn,
Tweed and Fisk, at the city of New York, have
made the consequences of a long and general tol-
eration of that system a part of our familiar his-
tory. But it is due to New York to add, that, dur-
ing the past decade, her citizens have done more
than those of any other state to arrest such abuses
and to substitute a “merit system ’’ for a “spoils
system,” both in her own administration and in
that of the federal government. — The politicians
and the office seekers readily comprehended the
spirit and opportunities of the new system which
Marcy announced The era had not long been
closed, even among the enlightened nations, dur-
ing which the hope of plunder and spoils from
captured ships and cities had been regarded as
essential alike for securing enlistments and for
achieving victories on Sea or land. Intense and
vindictive partisans, accustomed to treat their po-
litical opponents as both personal and public en-
emies, adopted with equal facility the reasoning of
Marcy and the war code of pillage and spoils.
Either in the heat of victory or the hope of gain,
they forgot or disregarded the fact, that the places,
the salaries, the promotions, the profitable con-
tracts which they sought, did not belong to the
party they had conquered, but to the people, of
which they were only a part. A new force, com-
pounded in about equal proportions of corruption
and Savagery, was soon made potential, alike in the
battlefields of politics, in the methods of elections,
and in the processes of administration. The proc-
lamation of the spoils system in the Senate great-
ly shocked the better minds of both parties, and
alarmed the country at large. Nevertheless the
theory of the system (of which “rotation in of-
fice,” in order to increase the spoils, was an im-
portant part) was, even by men in high places,
largely and rapidly accepted. In the debate in
the senate in 1835, upon the bill for repealing the
four years term of office act of 1820, Senator Shep-
ley of Maine, and Senator Hill of New Hampshire,
defended that kind of rotation which requires no
fault in an officer to justify a call for his removal,
and Wright of New York, following Jackson's
first message, declared such rotation “to be a car-
784
SPOILS SYSTEM.
dinal republican principle.” But, on the other
hand, Webster, Clay and Calhoun, Ewing, South-
ard and White, and others, denounced the new
system as false in theory and demoralizing, cor-
rupt and despotic in tendency. — The abuse of the
power of removal, for the double purpose of weak-
ening and wreaking revenge upon the opposite
party (or “punishing enemies,” in the phrase of the
spoils system war code), and of rewarding party
workers and personal friends (or of “making and
dividing spoils,” according to the theory of that
code), was the part of the spoils system which
was first fully developed. It was not in New
York alone that the greed for offices, the hate of
political opponents, the fierce partisanship, and
the corrupt selfishness and demagogism from
which that abuse springs, had affected the admin-
istration, even before Marcy’s declaration. If
there was space for tracing their first manifesta-
tions, we should find Washington much annoyed
by them, and in every subsequent administration
marks of their presence, if not evidences of their
pernicious influence. They gave Jefferson much
trouble, and tested the sturdy independence of
the younger Adams. But it was Jackson who
first adopted a fundamental article of the spoils
system code, by making the doctrine of “rotation
in office” a cardinal principle of his policy at the
beginning of his administration. The significance
and the disastrous effects of that doctrine, as
illustrating the true character of the system which
Marcy justified, is sufficiently explained in the
article on REMOVALS. — If we consider the spoils
system in the details of its practical methods and
evil effects, they will be found most developed
along the great lines of public administration and
party activity. In the articles on ASSESSMENTS
(Political), CIVIL SERVICE REFORM, CoNFIRMA-
TIONS, JUDICIARY (Elective), PATRONAGE, PRI-
MARY ELECTIONS, PROMOTIONS, REMOVALS, and
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE, the results of the
system along those lines and much of its history
are given. —It was for the purpose of arresting
those abuses and substituting a merit system for a
spoils system, that the civil service act, approved
Jan. 16, 1883, was enacted by congress; and for
the same purpose the legislature of New York
passed a yet more stringent act on May 4 of the
same year. Several sections of each of those acts
are aimed against political assessments, and both
of them direct that impartial tests of character
and of attainment (mainly through competitive ex-
aminations) be substituted for official favor and
political influence as a basis for entering the pub-
lic service in non-elective offices. – But in one
particular the New York law goes much further
than the act of congress. It greatly enlarges the
Scope of the law against bribery, as it has stood
in this country, following, however, in the wake
of the bribery and office-brokerage laws long in
force in Great Britain. The American bribery
laws, of prior date, perhaps without exception,
only prohibit the corrupt “use of money or any
promise, contract,” etc., for the “payment of
*
money,” or for the “delivery or conveyance of
anything of value.” This leaves the corrupt
promise or use of places, promotions, official in-
fluence for votes, speeches and work, etc., in aid
of candidates and parties, as well as removals and
official threats of removal for personal and party
ends, untouched. These grave abuses, which are
among the worst results of the spoils system
theory of politics, are made penal by the four-
teenth section of the New York law, as they long
since were under British statutes. (See Eaton's
“Civil Service in Great Britain,” pp. 132 to 141.)
— No more space can be given to the origin and
growth of the spoils system in this country. But
no one should infer that it is of American origin,
or that it most naturally flourishes under repub-
lican institutions. The work last cited shows the
origin of the system in the despotism, corruptions
and favoritism of the English monarchy in feudal
times, and traces its progress, until the suppres-
sion of all its worst features by the substitution
in Great Britain of a merit system of the same
character, in most particulars, as that which the
statutes of congress and of New York aim to es-
tablish. There is not an abuse in our politics or
administration, connected with the spoils system,
which did not exist in a more aggravated form in
England before our revolution. In precise form,
some of the abuses attending confirmations by
senates, could not exist in Great Britain, because
such confirmations are there unknown; but a stat-
ute (49 Geo. III., chaps. 126, 218), far more strin-
gent than any we have on the subject, enacted
when our constitution had been but twelve years
in force, contains penal clauses against the cor-
rupt use of solicitations, recommendations, bar-
gainings or negotiations for obtaining nominations,
appointments or resignations, which might be use-
fully enacted here. It is also true that the forms
of political assessments, as they exist with us,
were not known under the old English spoils sys-
tem. But it was because offices, grants, promo-
•tions, decorations and charters were both openly
sold for money and corruptly bartered for politi-
cal services and votes. If offices, after being sold
there, were also liable to be annually taxed, as
with us, at the will of a party, a great officer or a
partisan committee, their value upon the Original
sale would have been greatly impaired. The
British patronage monger preferred to get the full
price on the original sale. Within the last half-
century the British government has purchased
back for itself, for a money price paid in hand,
civil offices which had been merchandise for gen-
erations. It is hardly twelve years since Commis-
sions in the British army were freely bought and
sold. And, to this day, the right to be a rector or
parson in the church of England (subject to the
approval of the bishop) is openly and extensively
advertised for sale, and is publicly bought and
sold for money. King James had helped to bring
gerrymandering to perfection before Elbridge
Gerry was born. We have added little to the art
of coercing voters, or concealing, or lying about,
SPOILS SYSTEM.
785
A
the false count of votes. Office-mongering and
office-brokerage and patronage of every kind, a
century ago, had definiteness and an importance
in the penal law, the politics and the social life of
Great Britain, which they have not yet attained in
this country. — We have only to glance at the es-
sential spirit and methods of a federal and aris-
tocratic despotism, as compared with those of a
spoils system according to the theory of Burr and
Marcy, to see how naturally the latter grows out
of the former. The king reaches the throne
through birth and privilege, and not by merit.
The lords hold their places by his favor. The
aristocratic class, made up of the blood royal, the
nobility, the state church officials, the high offi-
cers of the army and the navy, and the great land
owners, are a part of the party forever in power.
They make their political faith, the creed of the
state church, and subserviency to their wishes, the
tests for obtaining and continuing in office of
whatever kind. What more natural, under such
a government, than that all those who do not re-
spond to these tests should not only be excluded
from office, but be denied the privilege of voting 2
Not merely the political faith of that forever
dominant party was for generations essential to
holding office, but the acceptance of the articles
of the state church as well, and, for a long time,
the partaking of the Sacrament according to its
method, were absolute conditions of office hold-
ing. The office-holding noblemen, the bishops,
and the king's lord lieutenants of counties, were
the patronage mongers, place dispensers and elec-
tion manipulators of their sections; and their
Cunning and precedents are adroit enough to be
even yet worthy the study of Senators, politi-
Cians and bosses who act on the theories of those
feudal potentates and imitate their methods so
far as our form of government will allow.—With
us the party majority is the king of politics.
Spoils-dispensing senators, representatives, gov-
ernors and party leaders are with us the feudal
lords of patronage. Our constitution allows no
religious creed to be made a test for office. But,
disregarding personal merit and common justice
almost as absolutely as any feudal aristocracy ever
did, the lords of our politics, in flagrant violation
of the first principles of a republic and of the
plain intent of the constitution, make the faith of
the dominant party, its selfish interests and un-
manly subserviency to themselves, the conditions
Of gaining and holding any of the tens of thou-
Sands of places where, in federal departments, in
state bureaus and in city offices alike, political
views are not in the least qualifications for official
duty. — The leaders, under the old English spoils
system, claimed the right and used the opportu-
nity of exerting all the authority and resources of
the government in their hands to keep their class
and party in power and their opponents out of
power. Patronage was a prerequisite of a great
officer, to be used for himself and his party.
Equally with the leaders of our spoils system,
they repudiated all demands based on individual
169 VOL. III. — 50
merit which they thought inconsistent with the
selfish interest of their class and party. They
said, in the language of Marcy, We “claim as
matter of right the advantages of success.” We
“see nothing wrong in the rule, that to the victor
belong the spoils.” Feudal leaders sold the offices
in order to get money to be used for keeping them.
selves in power. Our spoils system leaders annu-
ally rob the humble officers under them of a part
of their salaries for the same purpose. The use.
of money thus gained to buy the press, to corrupt
the officers of election, and to bribe voters, has
been the common offense of both. Each alike
made its political creed the paramount qualifica-
tion for an appointment, and claimed the right to
use all official authority for propagating that
creed. James II. and Andrew Jackson, Arch-
bishop Laud and Senator Marcy, George III. and
assessment-extortioner Hubbell agree in this, that
the opinions of the dominant party, the favor of
its leaders, and subservient work as they direct,
are the Supreme qualifications for clerks, janitors,
office boys and scrub-women, and that each are
bound to give time and money to keep those
who oppress them in power. — That phase of the
spoils system which consists in the usurpation of
the appointing power of the executive, by the
legislative department, has been, save in the mat-
ter of confirmations, almost identical in Great
Britain and in this country. Executive patronage
there was for generations as carefully apportioned
among the members of parliament as plunder
ever was among pirates, or spoils among soldiers.
To avoid the intolerable nuisance of having mem-
bers going the rounds of the departments, bully-
ing and begging for their shares of patronage, a
patronage secretary was provided, who kept ac-
counts with each member, and doled out to him
his share as regularly as soup is dispensed from a
free eating house. — The greater interest of these
facts does not consist merely in the historical an-
alogies between the corrupt and partisan systems
of the two countries, but in the further facts, rich
in hope for us, that, in the elder country, where
that system was founded on the throne, intrenched
in feudal principles and class distinctions—where
it was buttressed by the army on one side, and the
state church on the other, and was, therefore, ten-
fold stronger than with us—it has been, through
a steady effort of twenty-five years, overthrown
and removed. In our efforts to overthrow such a
system, we have but to contend for the funda-
mental principles of a republic while standing
upon all the best precedents of its founders. It
would not be a bad definition of a true republic
to describe it as a government under which office
is secured by merit to the exclusion of favoritism
and influence, nor of a true aristocratic despotism,
to define it to be a government under which favor
and influence secure office, and merit is subordi-
nated to birth and privilege. — There is another
view of the subject which must not be overlooked.
That can hardly be said to be a system in political
affairs which is but a series of abuses. A system
786
SPOILS SYSTEM.
implies an Orderly method proceeding from some
recognized theory. The theory of the spoils sys-
tem may be readily outlined. — 1. In a merely
superlative and ideal sense, a party may be (what
Burke declared it to be) a body of persons agree-
ing together in the support of common principles,
which they seek to carry into effect for the public
good ; but according to the only practical and
sensible use of the word, a party is a highly or-
ganized body of politicians constantly engaged in
selfish and warlike effort for capturing the gov-
ernment (or for keeping its enemies from captur-
ing it), and for gaining honors, offices and profits
for themselves. –2. Politics is at once a game, a
business and a series of campaigns; to be so con-
ducted as to pay the leaders, the fighters and the
workers. Profit enough must be got out of the
administration to pay the expenses of capturing it
and the cost of office seeking. —3. The theory
that a regard for great principles, love of country,
and a sense of duty—analogous to those senti-
ments which support the charities, the asylums
and the churches of a nation—are the vital force
of a party, is altogether chimerical. — 4. Patriot-
ism, disinterested public opinion, and devotion to
great principles as a duty, are suspicious and un-
reliable elements in politics; and, if they ever ex-
ist, they are yet generally but a cover for a hyp-
ocrite or a doctrinaire. They are indeed very
dangerous to good party management and to
favorite leaders. Selfishness, patronage and dis-
cipline are the great forces of politics. Absolute
obedience, and the despotic rule of the majority,
are the strength and Salvation of a party.— 5. The
honors, the offices, the public employments, the
political assessments, the profitable contracts, the
opportunities of levying illegal fees and political
blackmail—these are the spoils, to be divided so
as to be made most effective.— 6. Personal merit
is not to be wholly ignored, nor public opinion
needlessly affronted; but the wishes of the lead-
ers must be accepted as the law of the party, and
zeal and work for the party are qualifications
for public service paramount to personal merit.
The party politics of a door-tender, a cartman,
a storekeeper, an Office boy, a washwoman and
a chimney sweep, are essential to their selec-
tion. When either gets an office, a debt to the
party is incurred, for which fealty, work and as-
sessments are due as long as the man or the woman
holds it. — 7. The leaders must govern secretly
and absolutely, after the precedent of the Albany
regency, and according to the original semi-mili-
tary code of Burr. To refuse obedience to them,
or to bolt however bad a nomination, is treason to
the party never to be forgiven. —8. Custom houses
and postoffices, under the spoils system, are not
mere places for doing public work upon business
principles by officers, having business capacity,
but are intrenched outposts of the party, to be
manned by its valiant warriors, and to be barri-
caded against opponents; nor this alone, for these
offices are also asylums for broken-down hench-
men, Sally-ports for carrying elections, and banks
of issue for raising assessments. – 9. The party
leaders must hold the gates of the primaries as
well as all the gates of office; they must fix the
conditions upon which any member of the party
can vote for a delegate or be allowed to receive a
nomination. It is fatal to discipline to allow the
primary meetings to be open to all those who are
faithful to the principles of the party. The of.
ficers of primary Organizations should be the com-
pliant henchmen of the Senators, governors and
chieftains who run the postoffices and custom
houses, and they must exact a pledge from all
members to obey the leaders, to defend the plat-
form of the majority, and to support every nom-
ination, whether good or bad. To allow those
ready to support the principles of a party to freely
meet, and choose their own presiding officers, and
select and send their own delegates to a conven-
tion, is fatal to spoils system management. — 10.
Senators are the feudal lords of state politics, whose
voice should be held supreme in selecting the fed.
eral officers to serve within these states; and if a
president shall refuse to nominate a senator's fa-
vorite for a collector, the senator should resign, go
home, and arouse his state against the president.
From Burr to Marcy and Jackson, and from the
latter to Tweed and Conkling, such has been the
theory and the practice under the spoils system.
— 11. Clerks, other small officers and laborers
paid by the public, though bound to work for the
government, are also bound, not only to work for
the party, but to pay to it the partisan taxes it
chooses to impose. They must not be allowed to
serve the people equally and justly at all times, ir-
respective of political opinions and party interests,
but, on pain of removal, must, as far as the crim-
inal law will permit, make every official act bribe
or coerce a vote, and bring dollars to the patron-
age monger or the party that gave them their places.
— 12. All attempts, therefore, to compel the use
of official authority only for public purposes, alſ
attempts to put persons into the service merely
because they are the most worthy, all attempts to
put them in without the consent of the party man-
agers or the member of congress of the state or
district, all attempts to impartially test their fit-
ness by examinations, all attempts to prevent great
officials using patronage as a perquisite of them-
selves and their party, are utterly utopian and
doctrinaire—gross invasions of the discretion of
officials and of the rights of parties. When the
infamous Judge Barnard, on his trial under im-
peachment, replied to a question about his use of
judicial patronage—“I won this office, and its
patronage is mine”—he rivaled Marcy in condens-
ing the whole spirit of the spoils system. – With
such authority and income, with resources for
bribery and coercion so ample, a party, following
able and unscrupulous leaders, may go a great
way in defiance of public opinion. It has honors
for the aspiring, authority for the ambitious, prof-
its to bribe the mercenary, removals for overawing
the timid, money to pay its own expenses, exclu-
sions from the muster roll of party membership,
STAMPACT CONGRESS.
STATE.
'787
for intimidating those who threaten to say what
they think, or expose what they know to be wrong.
—But the course of events during the last few
years has made it plain that the spoils system must
everywhere very soon give place to a system under
which merit must be the test of selections for ap-
pointments, and regard for the intents of the pub-
lic, rather than those of the party, be made the
rule of administration. The people are more and
more clearly comprehending that parties must
serve the people, and not ask the people to be
the servants of a party. DORMAN B. EATON.
SQUATTER SOVEREIGNTY. (See Pop.
LLAR SOVEREIGNTY.)
STAMP ACT CONGRESS (IN U. S. HIs.
TORY), a body of delegates from all the colonies,
except New Hampshire, Virginia, North Carolina,
and Georgia, which met at New York, Oct. 7, and
finally adjourned Oct. 25, 1765. It differed from
the continental congress, which succeeded it, in
that it took no steps toward forcible resistance.
(See REvoluTION, II.) — The delegates from New
York were named by the committee of correspond-
ence; from Delaware and New Jersey, by infor-
mal action of the members of assembly; from the
other colonies named, by formal action of the
lower house of assembly. The action of the con-
gress was confined to an address to the king, peti-
tions to parliament, and a declaration of the rights
and grievances of the colonies. The last named
paper acknowledged “all due subordination ” to
parliament; but declared that the colonies could
only be taxed by their own representatives in the
colonial assemblies; that the colonists had the in-
herent right of trial by jury; that the stamp act,
and other legislation to extend the jurisdiction of
the admiralty court, without trial by jury, had “a
manifest tendency to subvert the rights and liber-
ties of the colonists *; and that parliamentary re-
strictions on colonial trade were burdensome. —
The petition of congress was offered in the house
of commons, Jan. 27, 1766. It was objected to,
1, as the act of an unconstitutional gathering, and
2, because of its denial of the right of parliament-
ary taxation. After some debate the Order of the
day was voted, and in this summary manner the
first request of the united colonies for a hearing
was passed over. — The proceedings of this con-
gress are in Niles' Principles and Acts of the Revolu-
tion, 451, and in 2 Niles' Register, 337, 353; see also
authorities under REVOLUTION.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
STANDING ARMIES. (See ARMIES.)
STANDING
ARY L.A.W.)
ORDERS. (See PARLIAMENT-
STANTON, Edwin M., was born in Steu-
benville, O., Dec. 19, 1814, and died at Washing-
ton, D. C., Dec. 24, 1869. He was graduated at
Kenyon College in 1833, was admitted to the bar
in 1836, and practiced at Cadiz, O., until 1839,
then at Steubenville until 1847, at Pittsburgh,
Penn., until 1857, and thereafter at Washington
city. He had always been a democrat, and in
December, 1860, he became attorney general under
Buchanan. In January, 1862, he became secretary
of war under Lincoln, and retained the place until
1868. In this position he showed a devouring en-
ergy and capacity for work, which considerably
shortened his own life, as well as the war. As the
conflict between the president and congress on re-
construction was developed, he took sides with
the latter, and President Johnson's attempt to re-
move him led to the impeachment of the president.
(See RECONSTRUCTION ; TERM AND TENURE OF
OFFICE; IMPEACHMENTS, WI.) When the impeach-
ment failed, in May, 1868, Stanton resigned. In
December, 1869, he was nominated and confirmed
as justice of the supreme court, but died before
entering office. A. J.
STATE, Department of. This is the oldest,
and ranks by long established usage as the first, of
the departments of the United States government.
Founded by act of July 27, 1789 (1 Stat. at Large,
p. 28), the department is presided over by a secre-
tary of state, who is a member of the cabinet, and
is sometimes (though erroneously) styled prime
minister. The functions of the secretary of state
embrace a great variety of responsible duties. He
is the organ of the government in all communi-
cations of whatever nature with foreign govern-
ments. Such communications, although in form
purporting to emanate from the president when-
ever important diplomatic matters are concerned,
are always prepared at the department of state,
and signed by the secretary, although they must
first have the president's approval. The secretary
conducts all correspondence with the ministers and
consuls of the United States residing abroad; he
has exclusive charge of negotiations concerning
foreign affairs; he only, according to official eti-
quette, can communicate with the representatives
of foreign powers residing in the United States,
upon public affairs. He is the official organ of
correspondence between the president and the gov-
ernors of the various states in the Union. He has
charge of all treaties which have been made, and
conducts negotiations as to new treaties or modifi-
cations of old ones. All the laws of the United
States are preserved in the archives of the state
department as they come enrolled on parchment
from congress, after being approved by the presi-
dent. The secretary publishes the United States
laws, resolutions, presidential proclamations, treat-
ies, etc., properly edited, in annual volumes. The
secretary of state is custodian of the great seal of
the United States, and affixes the seal with his
countersign to commissions or appointments to of.
fice in the higher grades, to executive proclama-
tions, to warrants for pardon, extradition, etc. He
records and issues passports to Americans travel-
ing abroad. He makes annual report to congress
(more recently made monthly) on the commercial
788
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
*
relations of the United States with foreign coun-
tries, based upon information gathered by our min-
isters and consuls abroad. A register of the de-
partment of state is issued annually, with full lists
of consular and diplomatic agents, salaries, fees col-
lected, regulations concerning precedence of diplo-
matic agents, etc. The department also publishes
a volume of consular regulations, in frequently
revised editions. – The secretary of state is aided
by a first assistant secretary, who becomes acting
secretary in his absence, salary $4,500; a second
and third assistant secretary, salaries $3,500 each,
who are charged with correspondence with diplo-
matic and consular officers, and with such public
business and correspondence as may be assigned
to them by the secretary. The business of the de-
partment is distributed among Seven bureaus: a
diplomatic bureau, having charge of correspond-
ence with American ministers residing abroad ; a
consular bureau, charged with the correspondence
with the consulates of the United States; a bureau
of indexes and archives, having charge of the
mails, the registry and indexing of correspond-
ence, and the preservation of the archives; a bu-
reau of accounts, having the custody and disburse-
ment of appropriations, care of funds and bonds,
and of the building and property of the depart-
ment; a bureau of rolls and library, having cus-
tody of the rolls, treaties and laws, with their
promulgation, and the care of the library and pub-
lic documents, as well as of the revolutionary ar-
chives; a bureau of statistics, charged with the
preparation of the reports upon commercial rela-
tions; and a law bureau, for the examination of
all claims, and of questions of law submitted by
the secretary or his assistants. – This widely dis-
tributed business is performed by a force of sixty-
two officers and clerks, besides fourteen messen-
gers and laborers, drawing annual salaries to the
amount of $112,350 in 1884. The contingent and
miscellaneous expenses of the department of state
amounted to the very moderate sum of $25,050
the same year. The department is located in the
new and commodious granite building forming the
south wing of the massive edifice known as the
state, war and navy department building, erected
in 1871–81. The department of state has had as
its secretaries, from the beginning of the govern-
ment, a series of statesmen distinguished in the
political annals of the country. The following
list exhibits the names, with the term of Office oc-
cupied by each :
SECRETARIES OF STATE.
1. Thomas Jefferson-------------------- ---- Sept. 26, 1789
2. Edmund Randolph---------------------- Jan. 2, 1794
° 3. Timothy Pickering---------------------- Dec. 10, 1795
4. John Marshall--------------------------- May 13, 1800
5. James Madison.-------------------------- March 5, 1801
6. Robert Smith---------------------------- March 6, 1809
7. James Monroe--------------------------- April 2, 1811
8. John Quincy Adams----------------- - March 5, 1817
9. Henry Clay------------------------------March 7, 1825
10. Martin Van Buren.----------------------- March 6, 1829
11. Edward Livingston---------------------- May 24, 1831
12. Louis McLane--------------------------- May 29, 1833
13. John Forsyth.---------------------------- June 27, 1834
14. #. Webster-------------------------- March 5, 1841
15. Hugh S. Legaré------------------------- May 9, 1843
16. Abel P. Upshur...I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I. July 24, 1843
17. John C. Calhoun------------------------ March 6, 1844
18. James Buchanan------------------------ March 6, 1845.
19. John M. Clayton.-------------------- --- March 7, 1849.
Daniel Webster------------------------ July 22, 1850.
20. Edward Everett------------------------- Nov. 6, 1852
21. William L. Marcy----------------------- March 7, 1853.
23. Lewis Cass--- -------------------------- March 6, 1857
23. Jeremiah S. Black----------------------. Dec. 17, 1860.
24. William H. Seward---------------------- March 5, 1861.
25. Elihu B. Washburne----------------. ---. March 5, 1869,
26. Hamilton Fish--------------------------- March 11, 1869.
27. William M. Ewarts---------------------- March 12, 1877.
28. James G. Blaime------------------------- March 5, 1881
29. Frederick T. Frelinghuysen.-------------- Dec. 12, 1881.
A. R. SPOFFORD.
STATE RIGHTS. (See STATE SovKREIGN-
Ty, II.)
STATE SOWEREIGNTY (IN U. S. HISTORy),
the theory of the relation of the states to the:
Union on which was based the right of Secession.
It held that all the rights and powers of sover-
eignty were vested in the thirteen states, or com-
monwealths, which originally formed the Amer-
ican Union; that the peoples of these common-
wealths had authorized their state governments to
form the confederation in 1777–81 and the consti-
tution in 1787–9; that the peoples of the individ-
ual commonwealths thus formed a voluntary
union, retaining to themselves the whole essence.
of sovereignty, but yielding to the new federal
government certain of the insignia of govern-
ment, previously held by the state governments;
that the people of any state, by withdrawing from
the federal government its grant of powers, ºpSo
facto dissolved the only bond which united them
in a continuously voluntary union with the other
states; and that there is, and can be, no “sover-
eignty” in the people of all the states, considered:
as a nation, in internal affairs, and no insignia of
sovereignty in foreign affairs, except what is,
granted to the federal government by the real Sov-
ereignties, the peoples of the individual common-
wealths, or states. The above is the doctrine of
state sovereignty pure and simple, as it includes:
the right of secession. There is a 111uch more
popular and far milder doctrine, of which Madi-
son was the strongest Supporter : it holds that the
states were sovereign until the ratification of the
constitution; and that they then ceased to be en-
tirely sovereign, a government partly national and
partly federal taking their place. A variety of
the first theory was also upheld, particularly in
1861–5: it held that the states were still truly Sov-
ereign, but that their international responsibility
and comity forbade them to secede even from a
voluntary union on trivial grounds, and authorized
the other states to war upon them and compel
their return. — In considering the question it is as
well to begin by examining the word Sovereignty
itself, though the examination must be brief. Mr.
John Austin defines it thus: “If a determinate
human superior, not in the habit of obedience to
a like superior, receive habitual obedience from
the bulk of a given society, that determinate su-
perior is sovereign in that society, and the Society
(including the superior) is a society political and
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
789
To that determinate superior the
* *
independent.
other members of the society are subject.
The mutual relation which subsists between that
superior and them may be styled the relation of
sovereign and subject, or the relation of sover-
eignty and subjection.” This carefully guarded
definition evidently implies that sovereignty re-
sides in some small class, and it will settle the
question of the sovereignty of the dukes of Bur-
gundy in the middle ages, or of the princes of
Servia in modern times. But its fundamental
idea must be modified in the United States, where
every governmental agency is supposed to be “in
the habit of obedience” to the will of the people,
expressed in written constitutions. The question
for us must be, whether the people of the state,
the commonwealth, or the people of the nation,
has been habitually superior when it has seen fit
to declare its will. This will show us whether
the ultimate sovereignty, the absolute independ-
ence of action in domestic and foreign affairs, the
uncontrolled power of decision in the last re-
sort, is in the people of a state or in the national
people. — No theory of the nature of the Ameri-
can Union can be suggested against which argu-
ments from authority, from the declarations and
opinions of leading men, legislative bodies and
conventions, can not be levied in array. The feel-
ing of the American people has always been so
strongly individualistic, their conventions and leg-
islatures have been so much inclined to put confi-
dence in their own assertions without regard to
opposing facts, and their public men have been so
influenced in feeling and language by their en-
vironment, that it is not difficult to bring argu-
ments from authority in support of every variety
of theory. This series of articles, relying on the
facts of our history, and practically disregarding
:authority, is founded in a belief opposed to all the
theories above enumerated : that the Union is not
“voluntary,” in the sense implied in state sover-
reignty; that it has always been compelled by force
of circumstances, common interests, and every-
thing that goes to develop a national will and
make up a nation; that the nation has existed, by
its own will maintained by arms, since the first
shot was fired at Lexington; that it has since con-
tinually asserted its existence with a steadily grow-
ing certainty of success; but that the expression
and assertion of its existence is limited, according
to its own will and the political instincts of the
people, by the controlling necessity for preserving
state lines, state government and “state rights,”
properly so called. (See CoNGRESS, CONTINENT-
AL; DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE; NATION.)
"This article will therefore be confined to 1, the
leading arguments for state sovereignty, as ad-
vanced by its supporters; 2, the historical argu-
ments against it; and 3, “state rights.”—I. The
word “people” is the a. of American political alge-
bra. All parties agree in the assertion that sover-
reignty is inherent in the people, not in the govern-
ment; and in so far the unanimity of belief is al-
most startling, considering the diversity of results
to which it has led. But the unanimity disappears
as soon as we undertake to define “the people.”
Is it the people of all the states, of the nation,
that is sovereign? Is it the people of each indi-
vidual state that is sovereign? Jefferson Davis and
his associates in 1861 held the latter view, and each,
when the sovereign people of his state declared for
secession, obeyed the behest of the only “people”
known to him, even to the waging of war on the
United States. The dominant party of the north
and west held the former view, and justified the
people of the nation, through its constituted
agents, in suppressing rebellion by war. The
democratic party of the north and west generally
supported the war measures of the government,
but did so on the ground of the third doctrine
above mentioned, that the government was the
agent of the non-seceding states in offsetting by
war the unfriendly act of secession. If the doc-
trine of state sovereignty is correct, if each indi-
vidual state is the only nation which its citizens
can know, the southern states in 1860–61 undoubt-
edly exercised a constitutional and inalienable
right in seceding, if they believed that the welfare
of their citizens and their own preservation would
be imperiled by remaining in the Union; and the
suppression of the rebellion was a revolutionary
transformation of a voluntary into an involuntary
Union. And the argument of Southern writers
in favor of state sovereignty is, in general, as fol-
lows. – 1. They direct attention to the slow and
steady growth of the states along the Atlantic
coast, the nucleus of each being widely separated
from the others, and none of them ever mingling
with its neighbors or losing its own identity; to
the fact that each had its distinct government, the
king being the common executive; and they con-
clude, that, when the connection between the col-
onies and the king was “severed by rebellious
swords, each colony became a living soul, and
each necessarily possessed sovereign political will
over its own territory and people.” In support of
this assertion their appeals are mainly to authority;
and if this form of argument could be accepted
as conclusive, the doctrine of state sovereignty
would be very strong. The word “people,” as
used at the time, was almost invariably applied
to the people of a state ; and the people of all
the states are loosely referred to as “the conti-
ment,” “the generality,” “America in general.”
When independence was finally declared, the
instrument was carefully entitled “The unan-
imous declaration of the thirteen united (sic)
States of America,” showing that “thirteen in-
dependent wills bc.came unanimous on the great
occasion ”; and in declaring the independence of
“the States,” these bodies are always referred to
in the plural : “that as Free and Independent
States they have full Power to levy War, con-
clude Peace, contract Alliances, Establish Com-
merce, and to do all other Acts and Things which
Independent States may of right do.” The idea
may be indicated by the full title of Dr. Ramsay’s
“History of the Revolution of South Carolina
790
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
from a British Province to an Independent State.”
And the language of the constitutions adopted by
the several states during the revolutionary period
is even stronger in the same direction. “The
people of this state, being by the providence of
God free and independent, have the sole and ex-
clusive right of governing themselves as a free,
sovereign and independent state ; * * That
this republic is and shall forever be and remain a
free, Sovereign and independent state.” (Con-
necticut act of 1776, establishing the charter as a
constitution, preamble and article 1.) “The people
of this commonwealth have the sole and exclusive
right of governing themselves as a free, sovereign
and independent state.” (Massachusetts constitu-
tion of 1780, still in force, art. 4.) “This con-
vention, therefore, in the name and by the au-
thority of the good people of this state, doth
ordain, determine and declare that no authority
shall, on any pretense whatever, be exercised over
the people or members of this state but such as
shall be derived from and granted by them.”
(New York constitution of 1777, art. 1.) “That
the style of this country (sic) be hereafter the state
of South Carolina.” (South Carolina constitution
of 1778, art. 1.) When we add to such expres-
sions as these the emphatic caveat of the second of
the articles of confederation, ‘‘ each state retains
its sovereignty, freedom and independence,” the
whole makes up a formidable mass of contempo-
rary testimony in favor of the “sovereignty” of
the individual states; and it is re-enforced by the
unconscious and ingenuous testimony given by the
almost invariable language of men of the time in
official and unofficial positions. And, finally, in
the treaty of peace which closed the war, the high
contracting parties joined in declaring, not that
the United States as a nation was independent,
but that the several states, naming them in order,
were “free, sovereign and independent states.”—
But, after all, what is all this argument from au-
thority worth more than the impotent protests
of a drowning man in the midst of a resistless cur-
rent? His declarations that he will not drown
can hardly save him without the added exertion
of swimming. If “sovereignty” could be main-
tained by resolutions alone, the argument from
authority would be of weight; but neither is true.
Reams of resolutions would be of little avail in
maintaining the “sovereignty” of Ireland or Po-
land, unless the resolvers are ready to back their
resolutions by physical force; and no such read-
iness was ever shown by the individual states.
Massachusetts came nearest to it in the sudden
levy of troops and siege of Boston which followed
the fight at Lexington; but even Massachusetts,
while fighting the enemy with one hand, was with
the other beckoning to the nation for help, and her
delegates, as soon as the continental congress met
in the following month, successfully urged the
adoption of her troops as a “continental army.”
In resolutions the states were prolific : when it
came to war, the highest and most dread attribute
of “sovereignty,” all instinctively shrank back,
and pitted the true nation against a king, sover-
eign against Sovereign. The mass of evidence.
above summarized goes just far enough to prove
that the individual states were sovereignties in.
posse; and had any one of them, ever ventured on:
the next essential step, and maintained its sepa-
rate Sovereignty by physical force, no sane man,
could have denied that it was at last a sovereign-
ty in esse. But this last step, has always been
wanting, and, while that is the case, all is want-
ing. That states, thus cowering like frightened
chickens under their mother's wing, should have:
gone on calmly ignoring in words their mother's.
existence, and asserting by resolution the sover-
eignty which they dared not maintain by force,
only shows the inability of even the wisest men,
to see clearly all the phases of contemporary his-
tory. That able men should still argue that a.
sovereignty ºn posse can be transformed into a,
sovereignty ºn esse by such a cheap and easy
weapon as a resolution, only proves that prejudice:
is still frequently of stronger weight than obvious.
fact. That the nation should have quietly toler-
ated such open denials of its very existence, only
proves the national indisposition to apply unnec-
essary force. An impérator or a czar must sup-
press the least impeachment of his sovereignty:
the American republic will still calmly allow even
an open denial of its existence—always provided
that the denial is confined to theory.— But it must,
not be supposed that the argument from authority
itself is so overwhelmingly in favor of state sov-
ereignty as the summary above would imply. We
may pass by the unofficial exhibitions of national
spirit in revolutionary times, and still have a re-
serve force of authority to show the universal
consciousness that the controlling, though always
self-controlled, power was in the national people.
Congress, in its declaration of July 6, 1775, says:
“We exhibit to mankind the remarkable example
of a people [not of thirteen peoples] attacked by
unprovoked enemies.” The same body formu-
lates its proclamation of Dec. 6, 1775, thus:
“We, therefore, in the name of the people of
these United Colonies”; and thus begins its dec-
laration of July 4, 1776: “When, in the course of
human events, it becomes necessary for one people
to dissolve the political bands which have con-
nected them with another, and to assume among
the powers of the éarth the separate and equal
station to which the laws of nature and of nature's
God entitle them.”
This last step, this assump-
tion of a separate and equal station among the pow-
ers of the earth, is the only means by which “sov-
ereignty” can properly be asserted; and it never
has been so asserted by a single state. The real na-
tional revolutionary nature of the declaration, and
the subordinate part played by the states in it, are:
well stated in the address of congress to the peo-
ple, Dec. 10, 1776: “It is well known to you, that,
at the universal desire of the people, and with the
hearty approbation of every province, the con-
gress declared the United States free and inde-
pendent.” If we are to trust to authority, we
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
791
may cite the sweeping assertion of Charles Cotes-
worth Pinckney, Jan. 18, 1788: “The separate in-
dependence and individual sovereignty of the
several states were never thought of by the en-
lightened band of patriots who framed the decla-
ration of independence; the several states are not
even mentioned by name in any part of it.” And
no man in the South Carolina legislature at that
time said him may when he denounced the claim,
“that each state is separately and individually in-
dependent, as a species of political heresy.” —
Again, in its commission to its ambassadors
to France, Oct. 23, 1776, congress remarks: “A
trade upon equal terms, between the subjects
of his most Christian majesty and the people
of these states will be beneficial to both nations °;
and the ultimate treaty of Feb. 6, 1778, re-
fers regularly to “the two parties” or “the two
7\ations.” The treaties with the Netherlands,
Sweden and Prussia, in 1783–5, use the same
phrases. Nor did congress. hesitate to bring the
national power into plain view, when necessary.
Dec. 4, 1775, it resolved that “in the present situ-
ation of affairs, it will be very dangerous to the
liberties and welfare of America, if any colony
should separately petition the king or either house
of parliament.” Dec. 29, 1775, it resolved that
“the colonies of Virginia, Maryland and North
Carolina be permitted to export produce to any
part of the world, except Great Britain,” etc.
Finally, May 15, 1776, the congress recommended
the various assemblies and conventions of the col-
onies “to adopt such government as shall in the
opinion of the representatives of the people best
conduce to the happiness and safety of their con-
stituents in particular and America in general ”;
and the national power which thus brooded over
the state governments themselves is indicated in
an address of congress to the people of the United
States, May 8, 1778: “Your interests will be fos-
tered and nourished by governments that derive
their power from your grant.” Even the state
constitutions which declare the sovereignty of the
state show the underlying consciousness of the
delegates that a national power was in existence,
though it was more prone to show itself by acts
than by words. The constitutions of Delaware,
Georgia, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New
York, North Carolina and Pennsylvania, all refer
expressly to the previous action of congress, and
particularly to its resolution of May 15, 1776, as
the justification of their action; and the four state
constitutions (of Massachusetts, Maryland, Vir-
ginia and South Carolina) which do not expressly
refer to it, do so tacitly by their long delay until
congress took the initiative. The preamble of the
South Carolina constitution of 1778 even assigns,
as a reason for a new constitution, that “the United
Colonies of America have since been constituted
independent states * * * by the declaration of the
honorable the continental congress, dated the 4th
day of July, 1776.” But the first constitution of
South Carolina, March 26, 1776, strikes the dead-
liest of all possible blows at the theory of state
sovereignty, whose essential dogma is that the
United States exists in a state only by the con-
tinuing will of the state. On the contrary, article
twenty-eight of this constitution declares that “the
resolutions of the continental congress, now of force
ºn this colony, shall so continue until altered or re-
voked by them [congress].” The resolutions of the
national congress in force in South Carolina, prior
to any declaration of the “sovereign” will of South
Carolina Certainly Calhoun had no hand in
framing this constitution. — Having stated the
arguments, pro and contra, this article can only
conclude that the arguments from authority are
quite evenly balanced, but that the argument from
fact is overwhelmingly against “state sovereign-
ty.” The states declared themselves sovereign
over and over again; but calling themselves sover-
eign did not make them so. It is necessary that a
state should be sovereign, not that it should call
itself so, while still sheltering itself under a real
national authority. The nation was made by
events and by the acts of the national people, not
by empty words or by the will of sovereign states;
but the sovereign will of the nation has always
been that there should be states, that the people
should act politically through them, and that their
rights and privileges should be respected. —2. If
the argument from fact, that the separate states
were never more than sovereignties in posse, and
that they never ventured to become sovereignties
ân esse, is sound, it, of course, disposes of state
sovereignty not only in the birth of the nation and
in the formation of the confederation, but in the
adoption of the constitution also. If a sovereign-
ty was created by general and national obedience
to the resolutions of a revolutionary national as-
sembly, unlimited by any organic law; and if that
sovereignty was maintained by a successful na-.
tional war, there is no argument to the contrary in
the fact that the new sovereignty allowed its agents,
the state governments, to shape the articles of
confederation, and to appoint delegates to the con-
vention of 1787. The national sovereignty thus
created might have disintegrated and died ; New
York or Virginia might have broken away and
sustained herself as a Sovereignty in esse as well as
Žn posse, but there was in fact no such result.
The national feeling held the nation together, and
forced the unwilling state governments to stand
sponsors to a new national assembly. Such a body
was the convention of 1787. It could not have
been an assemblage of ambassadors from sover-
eign states, for, as is noted hereafter, no state con-
stitution ever purported to give its legislature
power to send such ambassadors Or make Such a
treaty, and no governor ever ventured to assume
such a power. And the convention, when it met,
proved its national character by disregarding alto-
gether the articles of confederation, which were
never to have been even amended, except by
unanimous vote of all the legislatures; and by
giving the ratification of the new form of govern-
ment to state conventions, not even allowing the
legislatures a voice in the matter. —Nevertheless,
792
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
state sovereignty adduces a great mass of argu-
ment from authority in all the transactions which
led to the adoption of the constitution, and in the
constitution itself. The convention itself struck
out the word “national” from the first resolution
proposed to it, “that a national government ought
to be established.” Its debates are marked by fre-
quent use of expressions relating to the sovereignty
of the states. “That the states are at present
equally sovereign and independent has been as-
serted from every quarter of this house,” said one
delegate. The expression “We, the people of the
|United States,” in the preamble to the constitution,
and the omission of the names of the states, are
usually cited as decisive proofs against state Sov-
ereignty. Undoubtedly the people of the nation
were making the constitution, but it is very doubt-
ful whether many of the delegates were aware of
the fact : most of them probably still applied the
word to the people of their own individual state,
and felt, as the “Federalist” (No. 39) expressed
it, that “each state in ratifying the constitution is
considered as a sovereign body, independent of all
others, and only to be bound by its own voluntary
act.” The omission of the names of the states
seemed decisive to so respectable an authority as
Mr. Motley, but unluckily the omission cuts the
other way. In the first draft of the constitution,
as reported by the committee, Aug. 6, 1787, the
preamble reads, “We, the people of the states of
New Hampshire, Massachusetts,” etc. [naming
them in order], and the names were left out in the
final draft from the apprehension that one or more
of the states named might, by virtue of its sup-
posed “Sovereignty,” reject the constitution, drop
out of the Union, and compel an after alteration
of the preamble. To the same effect is the seventh
article of the constitution, as finally adopted :
“The ratification of the conventions of nine states
shall be sufficient for the establishment of this con-
stitution between the states so ratifying the same.”
What, then, was to be the status of the states which
should refuse to ratify 7 Were they still in the
Union, perhaps as territories 2 Or were they to
secede from the Union ? Or had the other states
already Seceded, and left them to keep warm the
ashes of the old confederation, if they could 2.
Was the constitution itself a successful secession
from the confederation? or did it only provide for
necessary Secession in this seventh article 2 Such
questions as these have always had an obvious
fascination for the advocates of state sovereignty,
while their opponents have usually avoided both
Scylla and Charybdis by going overland and ignor-
ing them altogether. But, in any candid discus-
Sion of the subject, they must be met and answered;
and, in Order to answer them, the effort has been
made to state them fairly and strongly. — Such
questions, with their tacit implication that “sov-
ereignty” is a mere affair of words, that any
body of men, in order to be sovereign, has only
to call itself, or be called, sovereign, afford silent
but Weighty testimony to the peculiar natural ad-
vantages which the American people enjoy, and
have always enjoyed. If the proximity of more
powerful neighbors had ever compelled the Amer-
ican people to Sacrifice one or more states or parts
of states as the price of a treaty of peace, the fal-
lacy of state Sovereignty would have been exposed.
But this has never been necessary, except in the
partial example of Maine in 1842 (see MAINE); and
annexation, which is the complement of such ter-
ritorial sacrifice, is always ignored by the advo-
cates of the doctrine. Free from dangerous neigh-
bors, the American people did not, until 1861,
learn the truth which bitter experience had made
familiar to less favored quarters of the globe, that
sovereignty is always potentially an affair of
“blood and iron”; and that it needs not only men
who know, or think they know, their rights, but
men who, “knowing, dare maintain.” Sover-
eignty is indivisible, as any controlling will is
indivisible. As between the nation and the states,
the only question must be, Which was the sover-
eignty ? And it can only be answered by asking,
Which dared to gé alone, to carve out its own
path, and achieve its own destiny ? The ques-
tion answers itself. Two states, Rhode Island and
North Carolina, refused to ratify, and the consti-
tution went into force without them. There could
have been no more excellent opportunity than this
to convert a Sovereignty ºn posse into a sovereignty
Žn esse, but this first and last test for sovereignty
compelled each of these states to answer, “It is
not in me.” Within two years both were con-
fessedly in their natural places as part of the
nation, both had ratified the constitution, nomi-
nally as their voluntary act and deed, but actu-
ally, like other states, under stress of circum-
stances. We can not know how far Rhode Island
was influenced by unofficial propositions to carve
up her territory between Massachusetts and Con-
necticut, or how far North Carolina was influ-
enced by official propositions in congress to sup-
press or restrain her commerce with the neigh-
boring states. (See SECESSION.) We can only
see the patent fact that these two states had and
shrank from the opportunity to attempt to be-
come sovereign in very truth. — But the constitu-
tional phrase, “between the states so ratifying the
same,” brings up the further question, Where were
Rhode Island and North Carolina between March
4, 1789, and their respective ratifications in 1789
–90? Were they in or out of the Union? Unless
the nation existed, and these states were still a part
of it, we are completely at sea. The nation which
had by successful war extorted from Great Britain
a recognition of its boundaries, would not have
been slow upon occasion to compel Rhode Island
and North Carolina, and Vermont as well, to re-
spect those boundaries, and to recognize them-
selves as included within them. But no such Oc-
casion arose, and no argument can fairly be drawn
from a forbearance of the nation to enforce its
sovereign will. Failure to overcome an open de-
fiance would have been a different matter; but a
father's authority is not to be fairly impeached
from his forbearance in allowing a recalcitrant son
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
793
an hour for consideration. In point of fact,
Rhode Island and North Carolina finally ratified
the very constitution which they had at first reject-
ed, without a single amendment to commend the
chalice to their lips. There was no escape for
them: they had to ratify; but the forbearance of
the nation gave them an opportunity to do so
“voluntarily.” That the new scheme of govern-
ment should have been defeated by the will of
two states, or that these two should remove them-
selves without successful war, from the bounda-
ries fixed in 1783, would have been equally im-
possible; but the nation had been guilty of an
oversight in allowing state legislatures to form
the articles of confederation, with their absurd
provision for a unanimous ratification of amend-
ments, and the nation scrupulously atoned for its
oversight by forbearing to press even the weakest
of its states. There is of course a still stronger
argument drawn from the nature of the constitu-
tion, but that will best be considered under the
second head of this article. — It would be unfair
to deny that the various conventions which rati-
fied the constitution in 1787–90 considered them-
selves as acting for “sovereign states.” The de-
bates of the Virginia convention show that the
word “people’” meant the people of the several
and individual states, and not of the nation, in
this declaration, which was a part of the ratifica-
tion: “That the powers granted under this con-
stitution, being derived from the people of the
United States, may be resumed by them, when-
soever the same shall be perverted to their in-
jury or oppression ”; and these words, in their
literal meaning, have the essence of the doctrines
both of state sovereignty and secession. But
these words, again, are mere “authority,” void as
against facts. Whose was the uncontrollable will,
the sovereignty, that extorted ratification from an
unwilling majority in Virginia, New York, New
Hampshire and Massachusetts, and, later, in
Rhode Island and North Carolina? Was it the
will of any state? or was it the will of the nation,
acting, according to its own preference, through
state organizations? The question answers itself,
provided the questioner will confine himself to
the facts of our history, and turn a deaf ear to the
conflicting arguments from authority, the opin-
ions, sometimes correct and sometimes incorrect,
of the actors in the history. But the question is
often triumphantly asked, What would have hap-
pened if a part of the states had refused finally to
"ratify 7 Either the recusants would have left the
constitutional number of ratifying states (9), or
less than that number. In the latter case the con-
dition placed upon ratification by the national
will would not have been fulfilled; and the whole
scheme of the constitution would have failed.
In the former case, the pressure upon the recusant
states would have been gradually increased until
the alternative of ratification or force would have
been distinctly presented. In either event, that
of general confusion or that of the forcible mainte-
nance of the national will, the sword, the ultima
Tatio of sovereignty, would have made its appear-
ance; and, whatever the result of the struggle
might have been, “state sovereignty” would
certainly have received before 1800 the quietus
which it finally received in 1865. One sover-
eignty, or two, or three, might have emerged
from the chaos, but state sovereignty, and even
state rights, would hardly have survived. In
this point of view the ratification debates of
1787–9 show the usual contradiction between
authority and fact, between the constant asser-
tion of state sovereignty and the ever-present fear
that force might dispel the illusions of the as-
sertion. A contemporary tradition is, that Wash-
ington, while signing the constitution, thus struck
the key-note of this feeling : “Should the states
reject this excellent constitution, the probability
is that an opportunity will never again offer to
cancel [substitute] another in peace : the next
will be drawn in blood.” “I fear a civil war,”
said Gerry. “Apprehending the danger of a gen-
eral confusion and an ultimate decision by the
Sword, I shall give the plan my support,” said
Charles Pinckney. “Is it possible to deliberate
between anarchy and convulsion on the one side,
and the chance of good to be expected from the
plan on the other?” asked Hamilton. “Suppose,”
said Thompson, in the Massachusetts convention,
‘‘ nine states adopt this constitution : who shall
touch the other four? Some cry out, Force them. I
say, Draw them.” In the Virginia convention Pat-
rick Henry unconsciously drew a pregnant parallel
between the forbearance of the nation in forming
the confederation and in forming the constitution:
“During the war America was magnanimous.
What was the language of the little state of Mary-
land? ‘I will have time to consider. I will hold
out three years. Let what may come, I will have
time to reflect.’ Magnanimity appeared every-
where. What was the upshot ? America tri-
ſumphed.” (See TERRITORIES.) Where was the
sovereignty, then, the uncontrollable, though self-
controlled and “magnanimous,” power in the
cases of Maryland under the confederation, and
of Rhode Island and North Carolina under the
constitution? Finally, Dec. 14, 1787, in a public
letter, Washington used the following language,
which sums up the case against state “sovereign-
ty” in framing the constitution : “Should one
state, however important it may conceive itself to
be, or a minority of the states, suppose that they
can dictate a constitution to the majority, unless
they have the power of administering the ultima,
Yatio, they will find themselves deceived.”— As a
summary, we may say that the ratification of the
constitution by the conventions of six of the
states, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode
Island, New York, Virginia and North Carolina,
was not at all voluntary; that it was extorted by
the evident preponderance of the national will,
including minorities in their own states, as well as
majorities in other states, and by a fear of array-
ing a pseudo sovereignty against a real sovereignty;
that the whole process was a national act; and that
794
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
the strongest arguments from authority can not
avail against the facts of the case. Nevertheless,
there is one expression of opinion which should
be cited here, not as an argument from.authority,
but as giving exactly and tersely the writer's be-
lief. It is that of James Wilson, in the Pennsyl-
vania convention of Dec. 4, 1787. “My position
is, that in this country the supreme, absolute and
uncontrollable power resides in the people at
large; that they have vested certain proportions
of this power in the state governments; but that
the fee-simple continues, resides and remains with
the body of the people.” He who asserts the con-
trary, who holds that the will of a state is, or has
ever been, uncontrollable, must prove it by ad-
ducing facts, not opinions, whether contemporary
or subsequent to the revolution. — 3. After 1789
state sovereignty entered upon the seventy-five
years struggle with the national idea which ended
in 1865. (See KENTUCKY RESOLUTIONs; Conven-
TION, HARTFORD; Judic1ARY; ALLEGIANCE; NUL-
LIFICATION ; SECESSION ; RECONSTRUCTION ; NA-
TION.) Throughout this struggle almost every
state in the Union in turn declared its own “sov-
ereignty,” and denounced as almost treasonable
similar declarations in other cases by other states.
Where these declarations stopped, and were in-
tended, to stop, at naked assertion, they come
properly under our third head of “state rights.”
In this form they have always been common, and
probably will again be common, though they have
much decreased in frequency since 1865. So late
as March 19, 1859, on the occasion of a supreme
court decision against the Wisconsin “personal
liberty law" (see that title), the state legislature
passed a series of resolutions, the last of which
spoke the following strong language: “that the
several states which formed that instrument [the
constitution], being sovereign and independent,
have the unquestionable right to judge of its in-
fractions; and that a positive defiance by those
sovereignties of all unauthorized acts done under
color of that instrument is the rightful remedy.”
References to sovereign states and the sovereignty
of the states have since been by no means unusual
in legislative resolutions and judicial decisions.
A good example is in the message of Gov. Rob-
inson, of New York, June 14, 1878, vetoing a bill
to enable creditors of other states to sue through
New York state officers: “It requires the state to
lay down its dignity, its honor and its integrity as
a sovereign state of the Union, and to become a
collecting agent for speculators in state bonds.”
In none of them has there been any apparent
notion of a possible maintenance of the so-called
sovereignty by force in case of opposition to it.
We are interested only in the cases where this
final test of sovereignty has been brought in ques-
tion. It is fairly doubtful whether the New Eng-
land opposition to the embargo and the war of
1812 falls in the former or in the latter class. The
probability is that it really meant state sovereignty
to a few of the leaders, but only state rights to
the mass of the leaders and followers.
The
action of Pennsylvania in the Olmstead case, im,
1809, and of Georgia in the Cherokee case, in
1830–32 (see that title), inclined toward the forci-
ble maintenance of the state's will. In the former
case the national authority was enforced, and in
the latter it was yielded. South Carolina's nullifica-
tion of the tariff act in 1832 fulfilled every requi-
site of the theory of state sovereignty by employ-
ing a formal state convention to declare the un-
controllable will of the state. This was therefore.
the first fair and open attempt in our history to
maintain the doctrine to its logical consequences,
and it was a failure. The inability of the state.
to maintain its ground was so evident that an
unofficial assemblage suspended the sovereign will
of the state to a point beyond the designated time.
From this time state sovereignty became inextri-
cably blended with slavery, until the growing un-
ion of both ended in secession in 1860–61. (See:
SLAVERY, SECESSION.) It is very true, as most.
southern writers assert, that the fundamental issue.
on which the seceding states waged war in 1861–5.
was the maintenance of “the right of self-gov-
ernment,” that is, of state sovereignty ; and that,
in comparison with this, slavery was of little im-
portance. It is true, that, when a state had once.
pronounced its will to secede, both the supporters.
and the opposers of secession felt bound to maintain
the will of the state, even to the extent of war.
against the United States. But it is equally true,
that no such issue would ever have been presented
but for slavery and its progressive influence in
arraying the will of the state against the will of
the nation. When the issue was at last presented,
it could no longer be avoided. There was no
room for forbearance, or, as Patrick Henry termed.
it, “magnanimity”; sovereignty was brought to
the touchstone, and state sovereignty was found.
wanting. — In the subsequent process of recon-
struction (see that title), there was very much that
was at variance not only with state Sovereignty,
but with state rights as well. The power over-
the militia, the elective franchise, the state courts;
and the police regulation of cities and towns,
which the universal national will decrees to be in:
the states, was for a time withheld from the lately
seceding states. If this was intended in any way
as a certificate of burial for the defunct theory of
state sovereignty, it served the further purpose:
of bringing into plainerview the healthy doctrine
of state rights; for the punishment was so abhor-
rent to the national instincts that it was very
rapidly abandoned. Out of all the struggles of
the past has come the unanimous will of the
nation, equally opposed to state Sovereignty and
to centralization, that it shall be an indissoluble-
Union of indestructible states. – II. Under the
first head the effort has been made to show the:
baselessness of state sovereignty from the single.
historical fact that the will of the nation has.
always been the controlling power, though it has.
always been forbearing in non-essentials. It is.
necessary further to adduce some other more iso-
lated facts, all showing that the states were never
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
795.
sovereigns. – 1. It is essential that a sovereignty
should have complete power of independent ac-
tion in external affairs as well as in internal affairs.
Foreign nations, in their intercourse with a state,
look, not to assertions of Sovereignty, but to the
fact, and regulate their recognition and diplomat-
ic relations accordingly. What are we to think
of a “sovereignty” that never declared or waged
a war, never concluded a peace, never sent or
received an ambassador, never flew a recognized
flag, and never formed a treaty or an alliance 2
And yet this is the history of nearly if not quite all
the states. The few exceptions, the New England
union (see that title), the Indian wars and treaties
of New England and the south, the pine tree
flag and coinage, were sub rosa appropriations of
the insignia of sovereignty, unrecognized by any
others than the appropriators, and most of them
occurred in colonial times, when sovereignty,
other than the king's, was unthought of. Even
when the colonies became states, the usual Amer-
ican political sense showed itself through all the
declarations of state sovereignty : none of their
state constitutions purported to give the state gov-
ernments any of the powers above enumerated,
nor was this withholding of power the conse-
quence of any agreement in the articles of con-
federation, for all the state constitutions were
framed before, most of them five years before,
the articles of confederation went into force. It
was the consequence of the instinctive national
sense that these belonged to the real sovereignty,
the nation. There is a single remarkable excep-
tion, the twenty-sixth article of the South Caro-
lina constitution of 1776: “That the president
[governor] and commander-in-chief shall have no
power to make war or peace, or enter into any
final treaty, without the consent of the general
assembly and legislative council.” But even this
(unaltered until 1790) must be taken as only an
argument from authority, since the implied treaty
power of the state was never maintained in fact.
—2. The states have nowhere shown their lack
of the essentials of sovereignty more conspicu-
ously than in their self-confessed inability to stand
alone.
the nation and the king, in 1775, the boldest of the
states, Massachusetts, was the loudest in calling
upon the continental congress for help to maintain
her integrity. The first state to form a constitu-
tion, New Hampshire, did so only after seeking
the patronage of congress, and all the other states,
except South Carolina, waited, before taking the
same step, for the general recommendation of
congress, May 15, 1776, referred to above. In the
articles of confederation each state legislature un-
dertook to covenant with all the others for pro-
tection. This was found to be too weak a safe-
guard, and the nakedness of state sovereignty was
fully exposed in the adoption of the constitution:
“The United States shall guarantee to every state
in this Union a republican form of government,
and shall protect each of them against invasion
and * * * against domestic violence.”
At the very outset of the struggle between
practical use or recognition.
Even in
1861 the seceding states, which so loudly declared
their sovereignty, were at the same time contra-
dicting the assertion by their instinctive efforts to
form a new nation for the protection of state sov-
ereignty. A sovereignty incapable of self-main-
tenance, and always under the protection of a high-
er power, is a contradiction in terms. – 3. A still
stronger objection is the nature of the govern-
ments, whether they be called federal or national,
which have been formed in, for and by the Union.
The first, or revolutionary, government of the con-
tinental congress, was absolutely opposed to state
sovereignty. The armies which were mustered,
the navies which were created, the war which was
waged, the flag which was displayed, the treaties
which were made, and the debt which was con-
tracted, were all exclusively national, and depend-
ed for their credit on the will of the whole peo-
ple. Congress even showed its national nature.
by declaring independence without the assent of
New York, and by practically making Washington.
dictator in 1777. Even the articles of confedera-
tion, though they declared the sovereignty of each.
state, contradicted the assertion by leaving the in-
signia of sovereignty to the national government.
When we come to the constitution, the objection.
becomes absolutely insuperable. The prohibitions.
upon the states in section 10 of article I. are all.
prohibitions of the exercise of sovereign powers;
the states, then, were not in fact regarded as sov-
ereignties, either by themselves or by others. The
same argument can not be applied to the preced-
ing section, prohibiting the exercise of certain.
powers by the United States; for these are all mat-
ters of routine, not sovereign powers. Under the
constitution the states were not to have even the
appearance of sovereignties: the powers to declares
war, to make peace, to conclude treaties, to Sup-
press insurrections, and to punish treason, were
now placed where they belonged, in the national.
government. If states formed the constitution,
they stultified their own assertions of sovereignty.
The conclusion must be, not that states, state gov-
ernments or the federal government is sovereign,
possessed of uncontrollable power, but that the
people of the nation, divided by its own will into
states, is sovereign. —The idea that the sover-
eignty of the states was only suspended by the .
formation of the constitution, ready to be revived
at any moment by the will of the state, though it
was the general southern doctrine after about 1803,
(see SECESSION), is altogether too fine spun for
The idea of a coma-
tose sovereignty, of a sovereignty which sleeps,
like Rip Van Winkle, but wakes at the exercise of
its own suspended will, of an uncontrollable will
which still exists though it has resigned its es-
sence to another, of an abdicated Sovereign peace-
ably reviving its own sovereignty, is certainly an
extraordinary political dogma; and its evident fal-
lacy is enough to disprove the notion that the
states were ever sovereign. — Above all, the pro-
vision for amendment by three-fourths, not by all,
of the states, is a flat negative to state Sovereignty.
"796
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
There is, with the obsolete exception of the reten-
tion of the slave trade until 1808, and with the al-
ways controlling retention of state lines, no limit
upon the power of amendment. Can we imag-
ine real sovereignties not only “suspending ” the
exercise of their own wills on points certain, but
agreeing to accept as their own the unlimited and
indefinite future will of three-fourths of their as-
sociates? And yet the only alternative for state
sovereignty is to imagine the states as making the
agreement without the intention of keeping it.
This one provision for amendment is sufficient to
outweigh all the arguments from authority that
could be adduced. — 4. It is usually assumed
that state sovereignty is essential to a federal gov-
ernment, and is only denied because of the desire
to introduce the idea of a national or centralized
government. In fact, the government is both na-
tional and federal: not, as the “Federalist” asserts,
partly national and partly federal, by the will of
the states; but together national and federal, by
the will of the whole people. Powerful enough to
have established the most centralized government,
if it had been foolish enough to desire it, the na-
tional will has always, of its own motion, limited
itself to such a government as the states should
agree upon, a federal government. When the
nation’s first instruments, the state legislatures,
proved unfit, the nation was strong enough to
wipe out their work and substitute a better; but it
still pledged itself to maintain the states intact,
and to make no change in the constitution on
which three-fourths of the states could not agree.
This universal American predilection to a federal
form of government has made it possible to argue
in favor of the sovereignty of the original thirteen
states, but the case is altogether different when we
come to the states which have been subsequently
admitted under the constitution. So difficult is it
to ascribe their existence to their own uncontrol-
lable will, or to anything else than the uncontrol-
lable will of the nation, that the advocates of state
sovereignty here find (and evade) their Scylla and
Charybdis. Take the state of Missouri as an ex-
ample. Its territory was sold by France to a sov-
ereignty, the United States, not to any or all of
the states. It was bought by the nation as a sov-
ereignty, not by any permission given by the states
in a written constitution. Its original acquisition,
its erection into a territory, its government as a
territory, were alike the results of the national
will. And when its population had grown suffi-
ciently to justify hope of stability, the national au-
thority regulated the formation of a state govern-
ment, established its boundaries, and finally, in its
own time and on its own terms, admitted the new
state to the Union. Will any man be bold enough
to specify where and when the sovereignty, the
uncontrollable will, of Missouri came into this long
process as a factor? To whom, then, do the peo-
ple of Missouri owe what would still often be
called their “sovereignty,” the absolute power
over their own affairs, which they have enjoyed
since 1820, but did not enjoy before 1820? Evi-
est of all enemies to a federal government.
dently, to the national will. There is not a state,
old or new, in this Union, whose will has been con-
sidered in the establishment of its own bounda-
ries. The boundaries of the original thirteen
states and of Vermont were fixed by the royal
power and its agents; the boundaries of new states,
and the rearrangement of the boundaries of the
old states, have been fixed under the supervision
of the new national sovereignty; and neither of
these classes of pseudo sovereignties has ever had
the power to add one cubit to its area of its own
uncontrollable will. Indeed, one of them (Iowa)
was refused admission until she would accept the
boundaries which the national will had fixed for
her. The only fair arguments to the contrary are
Rhode Island and Texas. (See those titles.) But
these were only apparent. The long resistance of
the former to the encroachments of her neighbors
was passive, not active; and the boundaries of the
latter, which her own power had been unable to
establish as she claimed, were finally fixed by the
United States. Texas, indeed, is a good deal of
an anomaly in her entrance to our system. An
undoubted sovereignty previously, she was rather
united to the Union than admitted to it. Some of
the whigs, who were opposed to the admission,
even claimed at the time that it was a fair ques-
tion whether the United States had annexed Texas,
or Texas had annexed the United States; that the
junction of the two republics had properly abol-
ished the constitutions of both, and vacated the
offices of their respective presidents; and that a
new constitution and a new president were neces-
sary for the new nation. But the overwhelming
superiority of one of the two parties was taken as
a sufficient offset for all legal informalities, and
the “annexation” was consummated. Barring
this anomalous case, the origin of state sovereignty
in new states is a field of inquiry which the ad-
vocates of the theory of state sovereignty can not
be induced to enter. The ablest and latest of them,
in his “Republic of Republics,” cited below, has
a chapter of eight pages on “Sovereignty in the
new states,” in which the whole question is evaded
carefully and successfully. Its only attempt at
argument is in the closing sentences of the chap-
ter: “Can you think, dear reader, of any political
difference between Ohio and Connecticut, Virgin-
ia and Missouri, New Jersey and Texas, Georgia
and California, as to status, capacity or rights?”
And the answer must be: There is no difference;
each and all owe their status, capacity and rights
to the power which won them, by force or pur-
chase, from Great Britain, France, Spain or Mex-
ico, and which has since maintained them, the
nation. — In fact, state sovereignty is the deadli-
In a
government without the federal principle, the en-
trance of the error is impossible, or extremely dif-
ficult. As soon as the federal principle enters, its
parasite enters with it, and usually succeeds in
destroying it. A permanent federal Union, based
upon the uncontrollable will of the states which
composed it, would be as impossible as permanent
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
797
connection between man and woman without law-
ful marriage. The sovereign power of the nation,
by the certainty which it gives to the bond, places
in the category of the impossible countless griev-
ances which, without a national power, would
Soon be magnified by state jealousy and state dem-
agogues into good reason for dissolution of the
bond. He, then, who denies state sovereignty, but
upholds state rights, does so not in defense of the
national power, which is perfectly able to defend
itself, but in defense of the most beautiful and yet
delicate of all schemes of government, the federal
system. – III. STATE RIGHTS. From 1800 until
1865 the phrase “state rights” looked directly or
indirectly to but one of the supposed rights of a
state, the right of secession. The political revo-
lution of 1800 was caused very largely by the re-
volt of the mass of the people against the federal-
ist idea that the federal government was sovereign,
a very different thing from the assertion that the
nation is sovereign. The new party that then as-
sumed control of the federal government did so
on the theory that the federal government was the
Servant of the states, and that the Union was
wholly voluntary on the part of the states. This
theory was summed up in the name “state rights
democrat.” In the north and west the theory had
disappeared in reality long before 1860, and men
in those sections who called themselves “state
rights democrats” were hard pressed to reconcile
their party name and their support of the war
against the rebellion. In the south the name and
theory were kept in complete sympathy by the
multifarious influences of slavery until state sov-
ereignty and slavery went down in a common
overthrow in 1865. “State rights” may now take
its proper signification, that which belonged to it
in reality even while “state sovereignty” was
given as its formal name. — In reading the de-
bates of the period from 1775 until 1789, no one
can help noticing the peculiar way in which the
word “sovereignty” is used. The same men who
recognize at every step in fact the existence of a
national sovereignty, continue to refer to the states
as “sovereignties.” The same Wilson, whose ex-
act and satisfactory statement of the ultimate na-
tional sovereignty has been used above, speaks
thus in another place : “The business of the fed-
eral convention * * * comprehended the views
and establishments of thirteen independent sover-
eignties.” And such apparent contradictions are
not the exception, but the rule. “The American
Statesman’s Dictionary,” says von Holst, “was
Written in double columns, and the chief terms
of his vocabulary were not infrequently inserted
twice: in the right-hand column, in the sense
which accorded with actual facts, and was in keep-
ing with the tendency toward particularism ; in
the left, in their logical sense, the sense which the
Iogic of facts has gradually and through many a
bitter struggle brought out into bold relief, and
which it will finally stamp as their exclusive mean-
ing.” If they endeavored to “outdo the mystery
of the Trinity by making thirteen one, while leav-
ing the one thirteen,” it was because they were
conscious that the thirteen were thirteen by the
will, protection and support of the one. It is by
the citation of one member of each of these verbal
contradictions that the advocates of state SOver-
eignty have built up their argument from author-
ity, making the “fathers of the republic” the fa-
thers of their theory, while ignoring the practical
application by which the fathers aforesaid ex-
plained their apparent contradictions. The con-
tradiction will disappear if we take in set terms
what the fathers took in practice, that the states
were not sovereign of their uncontrollable will,
but that they possessed absolute power in their
own sphere by the will of the nation. “State
sovereignty” then takes its proper form of “state
rights.” The nation may diminish or enlarge the
sphere of the states: it has repeatedly done both
by amendments; but, whatever the sphere of the
states may be, they are supreme within it. It may
be said that this reduces the states to the rank of
counties, but the objection will not hold. The will
of a state, to which the nation has abandoned the
control of cities, towns and counties, is easily ex-
pressed and exercised : but the will of the nation
can only be expressed and exercised with such
enormous difficulty that the states are practically
safe from it, unless an unusually great emergency
calls it forth. What present hope is there for any
suggested amendment to the constitution? It may
further be said that such a theory allows the pos-
sible establishment of a monarchy in the United
States. Be it so : pray, who is to prevent it if the
national will should incline to a step so foolish?"
He who assumes to prevent it must do so by force.
Who could have prevented it in 1775 or in 1787–9,
if the nation had willed it? The report was com-
mon in 1787 that a part of the convention’s plan.
was to call an English prince of the blood to the
throne of the United States. Had the report been
correct, and the step been ratified, the only differ-
ence in the result would have been that Rhode Isl-
and and North Carolina would have felt from a sel-
fish royal personality a pressure very different from
the magnanimous forbearance which a republican.
government could afford to exercise. But the Sov-
ereignty would have been alike in both cases, and
its exponent the same in kind, differing only in
degree. — And how in reality does this assail the
dignity of the states, since it plants their authority
on a base so broad as to be practically immovable?:
Federal government and state governments are:
alike exponents of the national will, and the effort
to secede on the one hand, and to unconstitution-
ally oppress a state on the other, are alike defiances
of the national will, though, if successful, the lat-
ter may be atoned for, while the former can not.
It is notorious matter of fact, that, in a peaceable.
and legal struggle between the federal government.
and a state government, the national sympathy is
rather with the latter than with the former; and the
state government, supported by the Consciousness.
of this general sympathy, and aided by its own
greater intensity of interest, has a much greater
*798
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
probability of success. If the struggle verges
toward a settlement by force, national sympathy
for the state government decreases, until the dis-
tinctive federal authority is formally or actually
acknowledged; and then the controlling national
feeling shows itself by marking as a victim for
political punishment any department or officer of
the federal government that has been instrumental
in thrusting upon a state the alternative of force
40r submission. The national will approved the
federalist measures of 1798, the action of Presi-
dent Adams against Georgia in 1824, the nullifica-
tion proclamation drawn up by Edward Livings-
ton against South Carolina in 1832, and the forci-
ble suppression of ku-klux disorders by the Grant
administration in 1871–3; and in all these cases the
national sympathy almost instantly showed itself
against the authors of the acts which had been
approved. Even in ordinary politics, there is no
greater danger to an American administration than
the well or ill founded belief that it is endeavor-
ing to coerce the will of its own party in a state.
“[American] men,” said Hamilton, bitterly, “are
rather reasoning than reasonable animals”; and
the national devotion to a federal system must be
fully taken into account by any one who would
attempt to study American political history. —
And we can not doubt that the national feeling
is justified by reason, by the events of the past,
and by the probabilities of the future. It is so
obviously impossible for any mere centralized
government to consult wisely and well the di-
verse interests of California, Maine and Florida,
:as far apart in distance and climate as London,
Teheran and Morocco, that the absolute neces-
sity of the federal system is everywhere recog-
nized without question. The people of each
state feel that the principle on which their own
happiness and comfort rest would be destoyed if
they should connive at an encroachment by the
federal government upon the sphere of another
state. They know instinctively that in so vast a
country the choice is between the federal system
and disunion, for the most solidly based centralized
government could not hold the nation together six
months; and in the train of disunion come diplo-
matic relations, international wars, standing ar-
mies, and the subordination of the many to the
few. Rather than admit the first appearance of
such evils, they have denied to the states the power
to recall their senators; rather than suffer the
reality, they have surrendered the dearest preju-
Clices of their nature, and conquered and recon-
structed a portion of the states of the Union. They
perceive that a federal system, so far from being
in any need of state sovereignty, is injured by the
first appearance of state sovereignty and the diplo-
matic relations implied in it; but that any aban-
donment or infringement of state rights is an insult
and an injury to the nation, and a subtle attack
upon the federal system, in which alone the
nation can maintain its unity. And the lessons
which the past has taught are of such a nature
that the future can only add force to them. State
sibility more patent.
sovereignty, with its shifting possibilities of rear-
rangements of federal associations, disunions and
reunions, might have been possible in a limited
area, with Small population; slight internal inter-
ests, and no foreign intercourse; but it was im-
possible even in 1775, and every doubling of popu-
lation and wealth since has only made the impos-
And in exactly the reverse
order, the maintenance of state rights, compara-
tively unimportant in 1775, has grown every year
more essential to the well-being of the people,
whether viewed as states or as a nation. The
area of the state of New York is closely similar to
that of England, and there seems to be no great
reason why New York should not expect to rival
England in population and in wealth. At any
rate, every advance toward that point is a stronger
reason not only why the welfare and happiness of
the increasing population of New York should be
consulted, but also why the rest of the country,
with its increasing stake in the welfare of New
York, should consult it by maintaining the state
rights of New York. —In this essential respect,
there seems at present to be little fear for the
future. It is, of course, not so easy for One who
is in the current of events, as for one who looks
from the outside, to calculate exactly their force
and direction; but so far as can be seen now,
the intensity of the national predilection for state
rights is increasing, not diminishing. Mr. E. A.
Freeman, in his magazine article, cited below,
lays stress on the general American substitution
of the word “national,” since 1860, for the word
“federal.” “It used to be ‘federal capital,’
“federal army,” “federal revenue,” etc.; now, the
word ‘national’ is almost always used instead.
This surely marks a tendency to forget the federal
character of the national government, or at least
to forget that its federal character is its very
essence.” The argument would be very strong if
the change had taken place in a period of peace;
but the change really shows no sign of perma-
nence, and is only one of the last waves of the
tremendous exertion of national sovereignty in
1861–5, never, it is to be hoped, to be again made
necessary. A stronger argument is drawn from
the passage of laws by congress, such as the na-
tional banking law, the general election law, and a
few other statutes, which conflict with what were
long considered state rights. But these are excep-
tional cases, due to causes entirely outside of state
rights. It is far more noteworthy that state rights,
even of the conquered states, have come unscathed
through the storm of a desolating war directed
against a number of the states. It would be difficult
to specify any point in which the theory of govern-
ment by states has been seriously marred since
the adoption of the constitution. Wherein do the
people of New York or Virginia govern themselves
less now than in 1789? The only fear to the con-
trary is in the encroachments of the federal judi-
ciary; but these would punish and corréct them-
selves by so clogging the federal courts with busi-
ness as to compel their reformation by the national
STATE SOWEREIGNTY.
799
will. And while the outlines have been main-
ºtained, the state's power has grown part passw.
with that of the nation : New York is now a
stronger and richer state, a more powerful gov-
•ernment, a more valuable friend in peace, a more
formidable enemy in war, than the whole United
States in 1789. Under the silent but potentially
omnipotent sovereignty of the nation, New York
has always enjoyed a power of self-government
which her own sovereignty could not have made
more absolute, and might easily have made much
more doubtful. Under the shadow of the power-
ful commonwealths of Massachusetts and Penn-
sylvania, the little states of Rhode Island and
Delaware are living their own peculiar life, under
the national aegis, with an absolute fearlessness of
interference from their neighbors for which many
a stronger state elsewhere might well have bartered
the Philistine armor of “sovereignty.” The very
same cause, the steady growth of the states in
population, wealth and material interests, which
would have made state Sovereignty yearly more
dangerous and hateful to the nation, makes state
rights dearer and more evidently essential. — And
it does not require a very close Scrutiny of passing
events to see that the same cause which has just
been mentioned is actually developing a deeper
shade of particularism than even state rights. As
the state grows more populous and wealthy, a
growing diversity of interests in different parts of
the state develops a particularist feeling within the
state itself. The germ of the feeling has always
-existed in some of the states. Western and eastern
Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia
and North Carolina have quite regularly taken
opposite political directions, and in one of them
(Virginia) the fissure, expanding under the force
of open war, has resulted in the formation of a
new state. But in all the larger states, there are
indications of the steady growth of the feeling;
and the probability is, that, as soon as population
becomes dense, the pressure of conflicting inter-
•ests will be relieved by the throwing off of new
states. Already New York has three fairly de-
fined sections, the west, the north, and the south-
east, any one of which is a potential state. The
enormous and diversified area of Texas was never
made for a single state; and only increasing den-
sity of population is needed to make the same
thing evident in other cases. The silent growth
of the feeling may be estimated from a single in-
stance. In 1794 the so-called “whisky insur-
rection ” (see that title), in western Pennsylvania,
was suppressed by militia, a part of the force being
drawn from New Jersey, Maryland and Virginia.
In 1877 the same région was the scene of a part
of the railroad riots, and the attempt was made
to employ militia from the eastern part of the
state in restoring order. Let him who remembers
the delirium of passion with which men of all
classes resisted the attempt, ask himself what the
result would have been if New Jersey, Maryland
or Virginia militia had again been introduced,
and say whether the particularist feeling is less
strong in that region now than in 1794. It is even
evident that the particularist feeling is not con-
fined entirely to sections of states, but that the
great cities which have been growing up on our
soil are also developing a particularism of their
own. The shibboleth of “home rule,” the aban-
donment of state and national parties in local
elections, which has of late years developed so
strong a following in Philadelphia, Brooklyn
and New York city, is only a phrasing of this
new and deeper shade of particularism, which
will come out to full view as soon and as fast as it
is needed. Mr. Freeman, in the article before re-
ferred to, notes this very peculiarity : “An Amer-
ican city is more thoroughly a commonwealth, it
has more of the feelings of a commonwealth, than
an English city has.” Such evident tendencies
may well offset a temporary exaggeration of the
word national. They seem to show that the peo-
ple of the United States are justified in their
abounding confidence that their political machine
has the power to correct its own errors and to
guard against its own dangers. — A complete defi-
nition of state rights is an impossibility. Theo-
retically, they consist of all the powers of govern-
ment which the nation has not transferred to the
federal government or forbidden the states to ex-
ercise. (See CoNSTITUTION.) By leaving the states
and their governments ºn Situ at the outbreak of
the revolution, the nation confirmed to them a
power over their own territory practically unlim-
ited at the time; but the rights and powers which
they have since lost have gone to the general gov-
ernment by direct transfer. The rights of the
federal government and of a state government
must be ascertained by two directly opposite ques-
tions: in the case of the former we must ask what
rights have been directly transferred to it by the
federal constitution; but in the case of the latter,
what rights and powers have been forbidden to it
by the state or federal constitutions. In the case
of doubtful powers the presumption is against the
federal government and in favor of the state, for
the nation has given the federal government a lim-
ited charter, while it has only circumscribed the
state government in certain particulars. The onus
proband? is upon the asserter of federal authority
and the denier of state authority. The state's di-
rect and indirect powers cover all the field of daily
life and interests, while multitudes of persons live
and die without once coming directly in contact
with federal power or practically realizing the ex-
istence of the federal government except by par-
ticipation in biennial elections. But even this
does not quite express the sum total of state rights.
The states still assert a power to punish for trea-
son, though the power in offenses against the
United States has been transferred to congress
(see TREASON); and there are certain powers, such
as the passage of insolvency laws, and the regula-
tion of congressional elections, which they exer-
cise in default of action by congress. And, in
general, they have whatever powers their courts
may define as their right, and may succeed, by
800 STATE.
STATES.
persistence or ingenuity, in maintaining against
the federal courts, always provided that the con-
troversy does not, take the aspect of force : in
that case the state must yield to the more direct
representatives of the national will.
latter case, the chances are still decidedly in favor
of the state; for it has, unless it is very evidently
in the wrong, the pronounced sympathy of the
nation, which works in its favor in innumerable
ways. Conflicts of this kind are not uncommon:
one is in progress at the present writing (1883)
between the federal and state courts in New Jer-
sey. They are always compromised or evaded,
and results will show that the state court, by claim-
ing more than its right, regularly obtains all it can
fairly ask. (See, in general, CONSTITUTION, Art.
I., §§ 4, 8–10; Art. III., §§ 2, 3; Art. IV., §§ 3, 4;
Art. W. ; Art. VII. ; and Amendments, Arts.
X.—XV.)—The theory of state sovereignty is best
stated in 1 Tucker's Blackstone, Appendix, note
D, and in Story’s Commentaries, §§ 310–318. For
the arguments in favor of it see, “Centz”’s Repub-
lic of Republics; 1 Calhoun's Works ; 2 ib., 197,
262; 3 lb., 140; 1 Stephens' War Between the States
(see index); Fowler's Sectional Controversy, 351;
Harris’ Political Conflict in America, 212; Pollard's
Lost Cause, 33. For the Madison theory, see Fed-
eralist (No. 39); North American Review, October,
1830, 537; 2 Curtis’ History of the Constitution,
377. See also 1 Austin’s Province of Jurispru-
dence, 226; 1 von Holst’s United States (Lalor’s
trans.) 1–63; 5 Bancroft’s United States, 500; 6 ib.,
351; Greene's Historical View of the Revolution, 119;
Prince's Confederation vs. Constitution ; 2 Rives'
Life of Madison, 371; Hurd's Law of Freedom and
Bondage, cap. xi.; 3 Webster's Works, 448; 1 Ben-
ton's Thirty Years’ View, 360; Brownson's Amer-
'cam Republic, 195, 239; Mulford's The Nation,
310; Goodwin’s Natural History of Secession, H.
Adams' Life of Randolph ; Poore's Federal and
State Constitutions; Journals of Congress (under
dates named); 1–3 Elliot's Debates (under dates
and states named); Dillon’s Notes on Historical
Evidence; 2 Whig Review, 455; Freeman’s Impres-
sions of America, Harper's Magazine, June, 1880
(G. T. Curtis' article); 1 Bancroft's History of the
Constitution, 146; 2 ib., 47, 332; Hurd's Theory of
Our National Facistence, 104, 526. A. J.
STATE, The. Although natural, and founded
on what is most imperious in our sympathies and
our wants, society is not maintained and preserved
without an effort. The bond which holds it to-
gether would be weak indeed and forever in jeop-
ardy if a protective power were not established
superior to individual wills to keep them within
bounds and to defend the persons and the rights
of each against the attacks of violence. Men may
wish to see the authority here referred to invested
with this form or that; they may attribute to it this
or that historical origin; but all agree that it is in-
dispensable to the maintenance of human Society,
and that only perfectly wise or perfectly brute creat-
ures can do without government. — But it is clear
Even in this
that there is a great difference between the purely
repressive authority with which the elders of a
tribe are invested, and the complicated and power-
ful organism called the state in nations advanced in
civilization. When society has reached a certain
degree of development; when the cultivation of
land possessed in common or appropriated by indi-
viduals requires security; when foresight inspired
by offensive or defensive war has engendered the
habit in a people of making certain preparations
in common in view of common danger and enter-
prises in common; and when certain ideas, beliefs
and feelings, held by all the members of a given
Society, have given birth to the moral unity of the
nation, the nation is necessarily developed, and as-
Sumes a character of solidity, duration and per-
manence. It extends its sphere of action, and is
completed by the addition and regular working
of numerous wheels, each having a distinct ex-
istence, and all functioning in harmony. The
living personification of the fatherland, the in-
strument of its strength at home and abroad, the
author and enforcer of the law, the supreme ar-
biter of interests, judge of peace and war, the
protector of the weak, the representative of all.
that is general in the wants of society, the organ
of the common reason and of the collective force.
of society : such is the state in all its power and,
majesty. Superior to all it governs, the state nev-
ertheless Owes to its own citizens all that it is.
But it is absolutely necessary that we should re-
mark: what society has confided to the guardian-
ship of the state as a precious deposit depends no
more upon Society than it does upon the state—the
Sacred deposit of justice. (See JUSTICE.) Justice
does not emanate from the individuals who com-
pose society ; it imposes itself on them as their
rule of action. In vain do certain publicists main--
tain that the state can do everything because it is
above everything. Nothing is more destitute of
foundation than such an assertion. Its rights.
would be limited by its duties even if they were
not limited by positive guarantecs written in the
laws. The state, too, has a rule and bridle in
justice. The law emanates from the state. But,
the power to make the law and to employ force
in its Service, does not imply that the state has the
unlimited power to make what is unjust just, or
the just unjust, at its pleasure. Human beings
are subject to moral laws, against which the state
has no more power than it has against the physi-
cal laws which govern matter. — (See NATION,
CHECKS AND BALANCES, GOVERNMENT, GOVERN--
MENTAL INTERFERENCE, LEGISLATION, REPRE-
SENTATION.) Ö B.
STATES, Constitutional and Legal Diver-
sities in. Nothing more forcibly evinces the
complex character of American political institu-
tions than the numerous variations in the consti-
tutions or fundamental laws of the states forming
the American Union. The controlling power of
the federal constitution in matters where it is .
made the supreme law of the land is fully treated.
STATES.
801
elsewhere in this work. But the large variety of
powers relating to the internal polity of states,
to local administration, revenue, expenditure and
taxation, to the laws of property, to corporations,
municipal or private, to the administration of jus-
tice, to the domestic relations, etc., come within
the cognizance of the several state constitutions,
and of the laws made in pursuance thereof by
state legislative bodies. States exercise not only
the right of eminent domain within their own
boundaries, limited only by the power granted
to congress to regulate commerce between the
states (a power of hitherto undefined and un-
known extent), but they are continually adding
statute to statute for the regulation of the com-
munity in every conceivable direction, until their
constitutions and the body of laws enacted in
each state form a vast and sometimes unwieldy
mass of legislation, rendering it difficult to ascer-
tain with precision the actual law on any subject,
in any state. Still, more complicated and vexa-
tiqus, to the stranger studying our institutions, is
the divided jurisdiction between the national and
the state governments, and between the latter and
the counties or municipalities and towns which
combine to make up the state. A citizen of the
United States, besides his allegiance to the national
government, which manages foreign relations, and
legislates for commerce and navigation, public
lands, pensions, patents, copyrights, money, tariff
and internal revenue, and other objects of national
control, also owes allegiance to the state govern-
ment, which taxes him to maintain a large body of
legislative, executive and judicial officers, an ex-
tensive public school system, institutions for the
care of the unfortunate classes, for the punish-
ment of crime, and sometimes for a system of
public and internal improvements of great extent,
besides other collateral objects of expenditure.
To this is to be added a citizen’s share in local
government and expenditure, including highways
and the administration of justice, besides, in fre-
quent cases, taxes for public buildings, bridges,
or other objects of county necessity or ambition.
Then, to close the chapter of his divided political
allegiance, after he has discharged his obligation
to the United States, to his state, and to the county
to which he belongs, the citizen is still further
Subject to participation in the maintenance of a
city or town government in the place of his im-
mediate abode. — It had been designed to treat,
under the head of Constitutions (variations of
State), in the first volume of this work, the diver-
sities prevailing in the political regulations of the
various states of the Union; but it was found that
very many of these variations are controlled by
statute, and not by direct constitutional provis-
ions. To sum up in connected order the more
important differences which prevail in the various
States in matters of the widest public interest, is
the object of the present article. For greater con-
venience the several topics will be treated in alpha-
betical Order. — ALIENS. Most of the state con-
stitutions exclude aliens, or the subjects of foreign
170 VOL. III. — 51
governments, from suffrage, until their residence
is judged to have been long enough to familiarize
them with our political system. But in fifteen
states, aliens who have declared their intention to
become citizens are invested by the constitution
with the right to vote at elections, on the same
terms with natives or actual citizens. These
states, thus relaxing the rule which excludes from
political power aliens who have not fulfilled the
prescribed term for naturalization, are Alabama,
Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Indiana, Kansas,
Louisiana, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Ne-
braska, Nevada, Oregon, Texas and Wisconsin.
(See ALIENs, 1 Cyc., p. 60.) Aliens have the
right of purchasing, holding and conveying real
estate and personal property by the laws of nearly
all the states.—AMENDMENTs. (See Constitutions
and Constitutional Amendments.)—BALLOT. With
the single exception of Kentucky, the constitu-
tions of all the states require the vote at the pop-
ular elections to be taken by ballots. Kentucky's
constitution provides that the people shall vote
wiva Voce, which, however, is suspended in the
case of congressional elections by the United
States law requiring congressmen to be chosen
by ballot. Voting in state legislatures, however,
is almost uniformly viva voce, and this is a consti-
tutional requirement in Alabama, California, Flor-
ida, Georgia, Indiana, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisi-
ana, Nevada, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Ten-
nessee and Texas. (See. BALLOT, 1 Cyc., p. 198.)
—BANKs. Some of the state constitutions pro-
hibit absolutely the incorporation of any banks
issuing circulation (e.g., California, Illinois, In-
diana, Oregon and Texas). The Wisconsin con-
stitution prohibits the charter of any banks, ex-
cept on approval by a majority of the qualified
voters of the state at a general election. In most
of the older state constitutions, adopted before
the congressional legislation establishing the na-
tional bank system, the legislature is empowered
to provide for the organization of banks by a gen-
eral banking law. In ten or twelve states the con-
stitution provides for the individual liability of
the stockholders to the bank creditors to an
amount equal to their respective shares. (See
BANKING, 1 Cyc., p. 204.) — CAPITAL PUNISH-
MENT. (See Death Penalty.) — CAPITATION TAX.
(See Poll Taa.) — CENSUs. While the constitu-
tion of the United States requires a decennial cen-
sus, which is at intervals so far removed as greatly
to lessen its value in a rapidly growing country,
but few of the states have made provision for
taking a state census in intermediate years. Con-
stitutional provisions in the following named
states require the legislature to provide for an
enumeration of the people at the dates named re-
spectively: New York and Wisconsin, in 1855,
and every tenth year thereafter; Indiana (of voters
only), in 1853, and every sixth year thereafter;
Michigan, in 1854, and every tenth year there-
after; Kentucky (voters only), in 1857, and every
eighth year thereafter ; Kansas, Massachusetts,
Minnesota and Oregon, in 1865, and every tenth
802
STATES.
year following; Tennessee (of voters only), in
1871, and each tenth year thereafter; Florida,
Iowa, Nebraska, Nevada and South Carolina, [“if
deemed necessary”] in 1875, and each tenth year
thereafter; Colorado, in 1885, and every tenth year
thereafter; Louisiana, in 1890, and every tenth
year thereafter; Maine and Mississippi, once in
ten years, to be fixed by the legislature. The
constitutions of New Jersey and Rhode Island
permit the taking of a census by act of the leg-
islature, and this was last done in 1875. No
constitutional provision on the subject exists in
Alabama, Arkansas, California, Connecticut, Dela-
ware, Georgia, Illinois, Missouri, New Hampshire,
North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Texas, Virginia,
and West Virginia. The constitutions of Mary-
land, Ohio and Vermont, permit the taking of a
census, but no legislative provision has been made
for it. It thus appears that in less than half the
states is there any provision for a general enumer-
ation of the people which might serve at once as
a check upon the national census, and a Supple-
ment to its statistics, of incalculable economic
value for purposes of comparison. In several
states whose constitutions formerly provided for a
census, this requirement has been dropped out in
new constitutions adopted within the last decade.
The failure on the part of state legislatures to take
an interest in a proper periodical census of their
state resources, is to be attributed mainly to a
spirit of false economy. Such great common-
wealths as Ohio, Pennsylvania, Indiana and Illi-
nois, while providing for certain classes of statis-
tical reports through state officers, have no provi-
sion whatever for the record or publication of
vital statistics, or of a complete periodical census
of their populations. An attempt has been made
by congressional legislation to encourage the state
governments in the work of taking account of
their population and resources by providing (act
of March 3, 1879), that any state or territory
which shall complete a census in 1885, 1895, etc.,
according to the forms used in the census of the
United States, shall be paid from the treasury 50
per cent. of the expenses of actual enumeration in
such state at the United States census, increased
by one-half the percentage of gain in population
in such state or territory between the two United
States censuses next preceding. — CITIZENSHIP.
(See Suffrage.)— CONSTITUTIONS AND CONSTITU-
TIONAL AMENDMENTS. All the state constitutions
have certain common characteristics, while there
are great diversities as to political regulations and
the distribution and details of legislative, executive
and judicial powers. The great cardinal features
found in all embody (in some form) a declaration
of rights; an assertion of the sovereignty of the
people through a representative system; the crea-
tion of three co-ordinate departments of govern-
ment, divided into legislative, executive and judi-
cial; a prescription of the qualifications for the
right of suffrage; and a recognition of local self-
government. The latter, however, is usually im-
plied rather than formally declared. Constitutions
are not the source but the result of personal and
political liberty; they grant no rights to the peo-
ple, but define the rights which they already pos-
sess, and provide a systematic Organization of gov-
ernmental powers for their protection. A writ-
ten constitution is to be viewed in the light of a
limitation upon the powers of government in the
hands of agents delegated by the people. — How
far state constitutions shall enter into the details
of government is a matter determined by the pub-
lic opinion of the time, as reflected in the popu-
larly elected conventions which frame them.
While the earlier constitutions, adopted at the
period of the American revolution and later, were
more general in the scope of their provisions, many
of the more recent ones descend into the particu-
lars of governmental control in each department.
The tendency has been to restrain the legislature
from passing special acts, and all measures con-
ferring corporate rights or special privileges. It
may be said, in general, that, with the fewest ex-
ceptions, the states of the Union revise their con-
stitutions in from ten to thirty years, each new
constitution growing more democratic than the
preceding. The southern states have had much
more frequent adoption of new constitutions,
since the civil war, growing out of the temporary
ascendency of influences and opinions fully treated
elsewhere. It is of course a cardinal principle in
the making of a constitution that it must be rat-
ified by the people, who alone possess the power
of sovereignty. The only exception is in Dela-
ware, whose constitution may be amended by the
act of two successive legislatures. The long-es-
tablished usage, when a constitution is revised or
superseded by a new one, is for the legislative
branch of the government to submit to the qual-
ified voters the question of calling or refusing to
call a constitutional convention. The method of
doing this is prescribed by the constitution itself,
which is to be made the subject of revision. The
provisions in the constitutions of the various states
differ widely as to the proportion of the legislative
body required to submit to the people the question
of amendment or revision; as to the time fixed for
deliberation upon the proposed changes; and,
finally, as to the majority of the popular vote re-
quired to call a constitutional convention, or to
amend the constitution directly. The following
analysis exhibits the requirements as to the recom-
mendation and adoption of constitutional amend-
ments in each of the thirty-eight states. Two-
thirds of both houses of the legislature must concur
in order to propose amendments to the constitu-
tion to the popular vote in the following states:
Alabama, California, Colorado, Georgia, Illinois,
Ransas, Louisiana, Maine, Michigan, Mississippi,
Texas and West Virginia. In Florida and South
Carolina a two-thirds vote of two successive leg-
islatures is required to submit amendments. In
Massachusetts a majority of the Senate and two-
thirds of the house of two successive legislatures
are required, and in Vermont two-thirds of the
Senate and a majority of the house, confirmed by
*
803
STATES.
a majority of the next legislature. In Vermont,
also, constitutional amendments are adopted by a
majority of the votes of the citizens voting thereon.
In Delaware the constitution may be amended by
vote of two-thirds of each house of the general
assembly if the proposed amendment shall be
ratified by three-fourths of the next succeeding
legislature. This is without direct reference to
the people, although the legislature must “duly
publish in print” the proposed amendments, “for
the consideration of the people,” before the elec-
tion of the legislature which is to pass upon them.
Three-fifths of the legislature are required in Ma-
ryland, Nebraska, North Carolina and Ohio to
propose constitutional amendments. A majority
of the members of both houses is sufficient to pro-
pose constitutional amendments in Arkansas, Min-
nesota, Missouri and Rhode Island. A majority
of two successive legislatures is required in Indi-
ana, Iowa, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, Ore-
gon, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Virginia and Wis-
consin. In Connecticut a majority of the house
of representatives may take the initial step of re-
ferring proposed amendments to the next succeed-
ing legislature, and two-thirds of each house must
concur in recommending them to the popular vote.
In New Hampshire the constitution provides for
no legislative action, but requires the selectmen of
towns to take a vote in town meeting every seven
years whether a convention shall be called to re-
vise the constitution. A majority of voters can
order a convention, but two-thirds of the popular
vote are required to adopt a constitutional revision
or amendment. There is no submission of amend-
ments without a convention. In Kentucky there
is no provision for direct amendment, but a major-
ity of the legislature may submit to the people the
question of calling a convention; and this requires
a majority of legal voters to be carried. — The
provisions as to the majority of the popular vote
requisite to ratify amendments to the state consti-
tution also vary in different states. Thus, a ma-
jority of the whole number of qualified voters is
required in Indiana, Missouri, Nevada, New Jer-
-sey, New York and Oregon. Rhode Island re-
quires a majority of three-fifths of the votes cast
to ratify constitutional amendments. Alabama,
Arkansas, Mississippi and Tennessee require a
majority of the votes cast for the general assem-
bly to ratify. In South Carolina alone, of all the
states, amendments of the constitution require in
-order to their adoption not only a majority of the
qualified voters of the state, but they must after-
ward be ratified by two-thirds of each house of
the general assembly next succeeding. In the re-
maining states, California, Colorado, Connecticut,
Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Louis-
iana, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan,
Minnesota, Nebraska, North Carolina, Ohio,
Pennsylvania, Texas, Vermont, Virginia, West
Virginia and Wisconsin, constitutional amend-
ments are ratified by a majority of the votes cast
On the question of amending the constitution. It
very frequently happens in states requiring for
ratification a majority of the voters qualified,
instead of those actually voting, that the amend-
ments proposed are lost from sheer lack of in-
terest in them. Popular indifference to consti-
tutional questions is very general, and a majority
of all the voters has frequently elected candidates
for office, while at the same poll constitutional
amendments have been lost because failing to re-
ceive the required majority of the qualified voters."
In the following states a convention to frame a
new or revised constitution may be ordered by a
vote of a majority of the votes cast: Alabama, Cal-
ifornia, Colorado, Connecticut, Iowa, Maine, Min-
nesota, Missouri, Nebraska, Nevada, New Jersey,
North Carolina, Pennsylvania, South Carolina,
Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia and Wiscon-
sin. In Maryland, New York and Ohio the ques-
tion of calling a constitutional convention must
be submitted to the people once in every twenty
years, and a majority of those voting thereon le-
galizes it. In Michigan the question must be
submitted every sixteen years, and in New Hamp-
shire every seven years. In the latter state the
town meetings act directly on the question, with-
out intervention of the legislature. In Rhode
Island three-fifths of the qualified electors must
vote to call a convention. In Delaware, Indiana
and Kentucky a majority of the legal voters is
required to call such a body. In Florida, Illinois,
Kansas, Michigan and Mississippi a majority of
those voting at the same election for members of
the legislature is required to call a constitutional
convention. — CORPORATIONS. Most of the more
recent state constitutions restrict the power of the
legislature to create private corporations by special
act, but permit their organization under general
laws. The aim is to prohibit or curtail special
privileges. Stockholders are generally made lia-
ble to creditors for the full amount of their re-
spective interest in the stock. — Courts. The
court of highest powers or final jurisdiction,
called in a few states the court of appeals, is des-
ignated in nearly all as the Supreme court. The
mode of appointment, the tenure of office, the
number of judges constituting the Supreme Court,
and their compensation, differ greatly in various
states. In all, the constitution fixes the mode of
appointment and the jurisdiction, both original and
appellate, with power usually given to the legisla-
ture to modify the latter; in a few states the num-
ber of judges, and in most states their salaries, are
left to be fixed by the legislature. The table on
page 804 exhibits these variations in a succinct
view. It will be seen that only four states provide
a life tenure for the judges of the highest judicial
tribunal; and in these the incumbents are remova-
ble by the legislature for cause or by impeachment.
In the remaining thirty-four states the terms for
judicial office vary from two years in Vermont,
which is the shortest, up to twenty-one years in
Pennsylvania, which is the longest, elective term
prescribed'; although in New Hampshire the
judges must retire upon reaching seventy years of
age. In all the states judges are re-eligible to
804 STATES. ſº
STATES. Term of Office. How Elected or Appointed. ić. Salary.
Alabama--------------------------------- 6 years. People. 3 $3,000
Arkansas -------------------------------- 8 years. People. 3 3,000.
California-------------------------------- 12 years. People. 7 6,000
Colorado--------------------------------- 9 years. People. 3 5,000
Connecticut------------------------------ 8 years. Legislature. 5 4,000
Delaware-------------------------------- i.º: ...}}| } Governor and Council. 4 } : §
Florida ---------------------------------- For life. Governor and Senate. 3 }: ;
Georgia.---------------------------------- 6 years. Legislature. 3 3.jöö.
Illinois----------------------------------- 9 years. People. 7 5,000
Indiana---------------------------------- 6 years. People. 5 4,000-
OW8------------------------------------ 6 years. People. 5 4,000
Kansas ---------------------------------- 6 years. People. 3 3,000.
Kentucky-------------------------------- 8 years. People. 4 5,000.
Louisiana-------------------------------- 12 years. Governor and Senate. 5 5,000
Maine------------------------------------ 7 years. Governor and Council. 8 3,000
Maryland -------------------------------- 15 years. People. 8 3,500.
Massachusetts---------------------------- For life. Governor and Council. 7. } : §
Michigan -------------------------------- - 8 years. People. 4 4,000
Minnesota.------------------------------- 7 years. People. 5 4,000.
Mississippi------------------------------- 9 years. Governor and Senate. 3 3,500
Missouri --------------------------------- 10 years. . People. 5 4,500.
Nebraska -------------------------------- 6 years. People. 3 2,500
Nevada ---------------------------------- 6 years. People. 3 6,000
New Hampshire----- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Until 70 years. Governor and Council. 7 2,700.
New Jersey------------------------------ 7 years. Governor and Senate. 9 7,000.
New York-------------------- ------------ 14 years. People. 7 # 7,000
North Carolina--------------------------- 8 years. People. 3 2,500.
io ------------------------------------ 5 years. People. 5 § 3,500.
Oregon ---------------------------------- 6 years. People. 3 2,000
Pennsylvania ---------------------------- 21 years. People. 7 } : §
Rhode Island----------------------------- For life. Legislature. 5 }: ;
South Carolina--------------------------- 6 years. Legislature. 3 } ! §
Tennessee-------------------------------- 8 years. People. 5 4,000
Texas------------------------------------ 6 years. People. 3 3,500
Vermont--------------------------------- 2 years. Legislature. 7 2,500.
Virginia --------------------------------- 12 years. Legislature. 5 3,000.
West Virginia.------------------- - - - - - - - -- 12 years. People. 4 2,250
Wisconsin ------------------------------- 10 years. People. 5 5,000.
* Chief Justice. f Justice.
f And $2,000 expenses.
§ Hereafter $5,000.
that high office. The people elect the judges in
twenty-four states; in six states they are chosen
by the legislature; while in eight states the gov-
ernor appoints the Supreme court, subject to con-
firmation by the senate or the council. — DIvorcF.
(See Marriage and Divorce.) — DUELING. This
barbarous practice can not claim to be in any pop-
ular favor in the United States, since the mark of
reprobation has been placed upon it by the con-
stitutions of twenty-five states. The giving or
accepting a challenge to fight a duel, or engaging
therein either as principal or accessory, is made a
disqualification for office by the constitutions of
Alabama, Arkansas, Colorado, Georgia, Indiana,
Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Maryland, Missouri,
North Carolina, Ohio, Oregon, Pennsylvania,
South Carolina, Tennessee and West Virginia.
The constitutions of nine states go further, and
declare that a duelist (actual or intended) shall
forfeit the privilege of voting at elections, viz.,
Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Michigan, Mis-
sissippi, Nevada, Texas, Virginia and Wiscon-
sin. Several state constitutions further require
that the legislature shall make laws to enforce
these disabilities, and to visit other punishments
upon offenders. In most of the remaining states
special statutes have assigned to dueling a place
in the rank of infamous crimes. – EDUCATION.
The constitutions of all the states, except that
of Delaware, contain provisions designed to fa-
vor the increase of knowledge and the creation.
of intelligent citizenship through the education.
of the young. While any system of compulsory
education or of training in the higher branches.
of learning is much controverted, it is general-
ly conceded that the state has the right to re-
quire that every child should receive some degree
of elementary education. This is directly recog-
nized in all the later and in most of the earlier
constitutions, and the general assembly is required
to legislate for the establishment and maintenance
of a public school system. State school funds are:
created and invested in most states for educational
objects, and the lands granted by congress to the
states for school purposes, with their proceeds or
income, constitute in many the basis of this fund.
Various other funds are pledged to educational.
purposes in some states. The supervision of Com-
mon schools is intrusted to a state officer, various-
ly known as superintendent of public instruction,
commissioner of common schools, Or the Secretary
of the state board of education, who is usually
elected for two years (sometimes four) by the peo-
ple of the state. Several states devote the entire
proceeds of the capitation tax to the School fund,
e.g., Alabama, Arkansas, California, Louisiana,
Mississippi, North Carolina, Tennessee, Texas,
Virginia and West Virginia. Many states devote
, STATES.
805
a specific quota of every dollar of tax raised to the
fund for public instruction, which is regularly
apportioned by the treasury among the county or
local officers. Many state constitutions prohibit
the legislature, and the counties, towns and school
districts, from devoting any school funds to in-
stitutions controlled by any sect. Colorado, Flor-
ida, Mississippi and Virginia have a state board of
education, composed of the Superintendent of
public instruction (president), the secretary of
state, and the attorney general. Missouri adds
the governor to these three officers. The consti-
tution of North Carolina provides that the gov.
ernor, lieutenant governor, secretary of state,
treasurer, auditor, superintendent of public in-
struction and attorney general shall constitute a
state board of education. In Texas, the governor,
Comptroller and secretary of state constitute the
board of education. —Educational statistics do
not come within the purpose of this article, but
the variations of what is fixed by law as the school
age in the different states may here be noted. In
Connecticut the age for enrollment in the public
schools is from four to sixteen years; in Florida
and Maine, four to twenty-one; in Oregon and
Wisconsin, four to twenty ; in Massachusetts,
New Hampshire and Rhode Island, five to fifteen;
in California, five to seventeen; in New Jersey,
five to eighteen; in Maryland, Michigan and Ver-
mont, five to twenty; in Iowa, Kansas, Minne-
sota, Mississippi, Nebraska, New York and Vir.
ginia, five to twenty-one; in South Carolina, six to
sixteen; in Georgia, Louisiana and Nevada, six to
eighteen; in Kentucky and Missouri, six to twenty;
in Arkansas, Colorado, Delaware, Illinois, Indiana,
North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Tennessee
and West Virginia, six to twenty-one; in Alabama,
seven to twenty-one; and in Texas, eight to four-
teen. — Regarding compulsory attendance in the
public Schools, although it has been strongly urged
for many years, no wide foothold for the system
has yet been acquired in the United States. Con-
necticut enforced the first practical compulsory
education law by its colonial code adopted in 1650;
at present, however, even in the “land of steady
habits,” the difficulty of enforcing the law, with
a large school population of foreign birth, is very
great. The amended law forbids manufacturers
to employ minors under fourteen, unless they have
attended school at least three months in each year.
Massachusetts has a similar law, and compels
parents and guardians to send children between
eight and fourteen to school, for twenty weeks
every year, unless otherwise under instruction.
The Maine school law authorizes towns to enforce
the attendance of Scholars between six and seven-
teen. In 1871 New Hampshire and Texas passed
laws requiring compulsory school education. In
1872 Michigan passed a compulsory school law,
Tequiring at least twelve weeks' schooling year-
ly of all between eight and fourteen, not other-
Wise taught. Nevada, in 1873, passed a law re-
quiring sixteen weeks’ attendance. In 1874 sim-
ilar compulsory laws were passed by California,
Kansas, New Jersey and New York. The New
York law (unlike the others) specifies the studies
in which the child is to be instructed; namely,
Spelling, reading, writing, arithmetic, geography
and English grammar. Laws enacting some degree
of compulsion to attend school also exist in Ohio,
Rhode Island, South Carolina, Vermont and Wis-
consin; though in some of these states they are
generally disregarded. In no other states, so far
as known, are compulsory education laws en-
forced. —ELECTIONS. The time of holding elec-
tions for state officers is fixed in some states by
the constitution, while in others it may be pre-
scribed or altered by the legislature. By act of
congress (March 3, 1875) elections of representa-
tives in congress are required to be held on the
Tuesday next after the first Monday in November
every second year, in 1876, and following years.
The states which had different seasons for election
of state officers have by degrees assimilated their
laws so as to hold all state elections on the Tues-
day after the first Monday in November, the only
exceptions being Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia,
Iowa, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Ohio, Oregon,
Rhode Island, Vermont and West Virginia. An-
nual elections formerly prevailed in most states;
but the tendency has been steadily toward elect-
ing state officers and legislatures biennially, and
the former even once in every four years only, as
in California, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri,
Nevada, Oregon and West Virginia. The only
states now holding annual elections are Connect-
icut, Iowa, Massachusetts, New Jersey, New
York, Ohio, Pennsylvania and Rhode Island. —
ELECTORs. (See Suffrage.) — ExEMPTION. (See
HoMESTEAD AND ExEMPTION LAws, 2 Cyc., p.
464.)— Gover NORs. The following table gives
the variations as to length of terms of office and
salaries of governors of the various states:

STATES. Term. Salary.
Years. -
Alabama------------------------------ 2 $ 3,000
Arkansas------------------------------ 2 3,000
California ----------------------------- 4 6,000
Colorado------------------------------ 2 5,000
Connecticut---------------------------- 2 2,000
Delaware------------------------------ 4 2,000
Florida-------------------------------- 4 3,500
Georgia.-------------------------------- 2 3,000
Illinois--------------------------------- 4 6,000
Indiana------------------------------- 4 5,000
Iowa----------------------------------- 2 3,000
Kansas -------------------------------- 2 3,000
Kentucky ----------------------------- 4 5,000
Louisiana----------------------------- 4 4,000
Maine---------------------------------- 2 2,000
Maryland ------------------------------ 4 4,500
Massachusetts ------------------------- 1 4,000
Michigan ------------------------------|--------- 1,000
Minnesota ----------------------------- 2 3,800
Mississippi----------------------------- 4 4,000
Missouri------------------------------- 4 5,000
Nebraska---------------------, sº se m = ** = * * = 2 2,500
Nevada -------------------------------- 4 . 5,000
New Hampshire------------------------ 2 1,000
New Jersey---------------------------- 3 ,000
New York----------------------------- 3 10,000
North Carolina------------------------- 4 3,00
hio ---------------------------------- 2 . 4,000
Oregon -------------------------------- 4 1,500
Pennsylvania -------------------------- 4 . . 10,000
Rhode Island-------------------------- 1 1,000
South Carolina---------------- --------- 2 3,500
Tennessee ----------------------------- 2 4,
806
STATES.
(CONTINUED.)
STATES. Term. Salary
- Years.
Texas---------------------------------- 2 $ 4,000
Vermont ------------------------------ 2 1,000
Virginia ------------------------------- 4 5,000
West Virginia-------------- :- - - - - - - - - - - - 4 2,700
Wisconsin ----------------------------- 2 5,000
See Pardoning Power, Succession, Veto Power. —
HOMESTEADS. (See HOMESTEAD AND ExEMPTION
LAws, 2 Cyc., p. 464.) — INSOLVENCY. The gen.
eral subject of bankruptcy has been treated in vol.
I., p. 223. In the absence of any general law of the
United States, most of the states have provided
acts regulating insolvency and assignments for the
benefit of creditors. The states which have no
laws for insolvent debtors are Alabama, Colorado
and North Carolina. In California the act of
1880 provides for both voluntary and involuntary
bankruptcy through the courts. In the following
states assignments of property for the benefit of
creditors do not discharge the debtor, except upon
the amounts paid, the balance of liabilities stand-
ing against him: Delaware, Georgia, Illinois, In-
diana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Minnesota, Ne-
braska, New Hampshire, New Jersey, Ohio,
Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina and
Virginia. In Connecticut the debtor can procure
a discharge from liabilities to creditors when his
estate pays 70 per cent., but not otherwise. In the
following states, debtors making assignments can
be released only upon the consent of all the cred-
itors : Maryland, Mississippi, Missouri, Oregon,
Tennessee and Texas. Louisiana provides for a
discharge of the debtor upon the consent of a ma-
jority of his creditors in number and amount. In
New York an insolvent debtor is discharged on
the concurrence of two-thirds in amount and value
of his creditors. In Maine, creditors represent-
ing three-fourths of the indebtedness must agree
in writing to accept a certain percentage, before
the debtor can have his discharge. In Massachu-
setts, voluntary insolvency is provided for, on
giving up all property not exempted by law. In-
voluntary proceedings against a debtor may be
instituted by any creditor, on proof of insolvency
or fraud. If the assets pay 50 per cent. the debtor
is entitled to his discharge; if not, he must ob-
tain the written consent of a majority in number
and value of his creditors. In Vermont, the pro-
visions of the insolvent law are similar. In the
following states a discharge from indebtedness is
granted to the debtor upon surrender of his entire
estate for the equal benefit of creditors: Arkan-
sas, Florida, Michigan, Nevada, West Virginia
and Wisconsin. —INTEREST AND USURY. The
legislatures of all the states in the Union have
fixed what shall be the legal rate of interest on
money. In thirteen states, however, any rate of
interest that may be agreed upon between bor-
rower and lender is legalized ; in twenty-four
states, there are two interest rates legalized, the
lower one to prevail in all cases in the absence of
contract, the higher rate to be legalized upon ex-
press agreement in writing. Usury is punished
by various forfeitures, in thirty-two states and
territories. The following table exhibits the vari-
ous interest rates and penalties for usury in the
thirty-eight states, the eight territories, and the
district of Columbia :


Legal Rate - - *
STATES AND TERRITORIES. Rate of Allowed by Penalties for Usury.
- Interest. Contract.
Per Cent. Per Cent.
Alabama ------------------------------------------- 8 8 Forfeiture of entire interest.
Arizona-------------------------------------------- 10 Any rate. No penalty.
Arkansas ------------------------------------------ 6 - 10 . Forfeiture of principal and interest.
California------------------------------------------ - 7 Any rate. No penalty.
Colorado ------------------------------------------- 10 Any rate. No penalty.
Connecticut---------------------------------------- 6 6 No penalty.
Dakota -------------------------------------------- 7 12 Forfeiture of excess.
Delaware ------------------------------------------ 6 6 Forfeiture of principal.
District of Columbia ------------------------------- 6 10 Forfeiture of entire interest.
Florida -------------------------------------------- 8 Any rate. No penalty.
Georgia -------------------------------------------- 7 8 . Forfeiture of excess.
Idaho ---------------------------------------------- 10 18 Forfeiture of three times excess of int.
Illinois--------------------------------------------- 6 8 Forfeiture of entire interest.
Indiana -------------------------------------------- 6 8 Forfeiture of excess of interest.
Iowa ----------------------------------------------- 6 10 Forfeiture of 10 per cent per year on amt.
Kansas--------------------------------------------- 7 12 Forfeiture of excess of interest.
Kentucky------------------------------------------ 6 10 Forfeiture of excess over 10 per cent.
Louisiana ------------------------------------------ 5 8 Forfeiture of entire interest.
Maine---------------------------------------------- 6 Any rate No penalty.
Maryland ------------------------------------------ 6 6 Forfeiture of excess of interest.
Massachusetts---------- ... * * * * * = * * * * * * * * = as - * * * = * * * * * * = 6 Any rate No penalty.
Michigan------------------------------------------- 7 10 Forfeiture of excess of interest.
Minnesota ----------------------------------------- 7 10 Forfeiture of excess over 10 per cent.
Mississippi----------------------------------------- 6 10 Forfeiture of excess of interest.
Missouri ----------------------------------- - - - - - - - - 6 10 Forfeiture of entire interest.
Montana -------------- = * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * = = * * * * * * * * * * * 10 Any rate No penalty.
Nebraska ------------- w we sº * * * * = * * * * * * * * * * * = * * * * * * * = - 7 10 Forfeiture of interest and cost.
Nevada --------------------- me as sº is sº sº sº se .Eº º ſº º sº, º ºs º ºs º ºs º ºs sº me • 10 Any rate No penalty.
New Hampshire------------------------------------ 6 6 Forfeiture of thrice the excess.
New Jersey------------- * * * * * * * * = * * * * * = = * * * * * * * * * * = - 6 6 Forfeiture of entire interest.
New Mexico.---------------------------------------- 6 12 . No penalty.
New York------------------------------------------ 6 6 Forfeiture of principal and interest.
North Carolina------------------------------------- 6 8 Forfeiture of entire interest.
io ----------------------------------------------- 6 8 Forfeiture of excess above 6 per cent.
Oregon--------------------------------------------- 8 10 Forfeiture of principal and interest.
Pennsylvania--------------------------------------- 6 Forfeiture of excess, of interest.
Rhode Island--------------------------------------- 6 Any rate. No penalty.
STATES. 807
(CONTINUED.)
Legal Rate
STATES AND TERRITORIES. Rate of Allowed b Penalties for Usury.
Interest. Contract.
- Per Cent. Per Cent,
South Carolina------------------------------------- 7 Any rate. No penalty.
Tennessee------------------------------------------ 6 10 Forfeiture of excess of int. and $100 fine.
Texas ---------------------------------------------- 8 12 Forfeiture of entire interest.
Utah ----------------------------------------------- 10 Any rate. No penalty.
Vermont ------------------------------------------- 6 6 Forfeiture of excess of interest.
Virginia.------- • *s as as as * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 6 8 Forfeiture of excess over 6 per cent.
Washington:--------------------------------------- 10 Any rate. No penalty.
West Virginia-------------------------------------- 6 6 Forfeiture of excess of interest.
Wisconsin ----------------------------------------- 7 10 Forfeiture of entire interest.
Wyoming ------------------------------------------ 12 Any rate. No penalty.
— Judges. (See Courts.)—LEGISLATUREs. All West Virginia it is styled “the House of Dele-

the state constitutions limit and define more or
less fully the legislative powers of the body vari-
ously styled “the General Assembly,” “the Leg-
islature,” and (in Massachusetts) “the General
Court.” The qualifications required for member-
ship in state legislatures vary considerably, pre-
scribing a greater or less term of residence in the
state, a limit of age (in certain states only), and,
in nearly all cases, the requirement of being
qualified voters. The number of Senators and
representatives prescribed in the state constitu-
tions varies greatly in different states. The sena-
torial bodies are conveniently small, running from
nine members only in Delaware, to fifty-one in
Illinois, while the members of the other house
vary from twenty-one to 321 in number. The
popular branch is usually styled ‘‘the House of
Representatives,” but is called “the Assembly’”
in California, Florida, Nevada, New Jersey, New
York and Wisconsin; in Maryland, Virginia and
gates,” and in all the other states its constitutional
designation is “the House of Representatives.”
The legislative sessions were formerly held annu-
ally in most of the states. Of late years, how-
ever, there has been a steady drift toward less fre-
quent meetings of state legislatures, nearly every
constitution adopted within thirty years providing
that the sessions shall be held only biennially, un-
less special or extraordinary sessions are called.
The states whose legislatures still meet every year
are six only: Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Jer-
sey, New York, Rhode Island and South Carolina.
In Ohio, however, the legislature holds adjourned
Sessions practically amounting to annual meetings.
Some constitutions limit the length of Session to
terms variously running from forty days to 150.
In sixteen states, however, the legislature is with-
out limit save its own discretion as to length of ses-
sion. The following table exhibits the numbers,
terms of office and salaries of state legislatures:

e Limit; No. Of i. 9.9f | Term | Term
STATES. Sessions. Of Sena- epre- Of Of Salary.
- Session. tors. º: Sen’s. Rep’s.
IV ºs. -
Alabama------------------ Biennial. 50 days. 33 100 4 2 $4 per day and 10c. per mile.
Arkansas ----------------- IBiennial. 60 days. -31 94 4 2 $6 per day.
California----------------- Piennial. 60 days. 40 80 4 2 - $8 per day, 10c. mileage, and $25.
Colorado------------------ Biennial. 40 days. 26 49 4 . 2 $4 per day and 15c. per mile.
Connecticut--------------- Annual. INone. 24 249 2 1 $300 and mileage.
Delaware ----------------- Biennial. None. 9 21 4 2 $3 per day and mileage.
Florida ------------------- Biennial. 60 days. 32 76 4 2 $6 per day and 10c. per mile.
Georgia.------------------- Biennial. 40 days. 44 175 2 2 $4 per day and mileage.
Illinois-------------------- Biennial. None. 51 153 4 2 $5 per day, 10c. mileage and $50.
Indiana ------------------- Biennial. 60 days 50 j00 ... 4 2 $6 per day and 20G. per mile.
OW8---------------------- Biennial. None. 50 100 4 2 $550 per year.
Ransas.------------------- Biennial. 50 days 40 125 4 2 $3 per day and 15c. per mile.
Kentucky----------------- |Biennial. 60 days 38 100 4 2 $5 per day and 15c. per mile.
Louisiana ----------------- Biennial. 60 days 36 98 4 4 $4 per day and mileage.
Maine--------------------- Biennial. None. 31 151 2 2 $150 and 20G. per mile.
Maryland ----------------- Biennial. 90 days, 26 91 4. 2 $5 per day and mileage.
Massachusetts------------- Annual. None. 40 240 | 1 $500 per year.
Michigan------------------ Biennial. None. 32 100 2 2 $3 per day and 10c. per mile.
Minnesota ----------------. Biennial. 60 days 47 103 4 2 $5 per day and 15c. per mile.
Mississippi---------------- Biennial. None. 37 120 4 2 $400 per year.
Missouri ------------------ Biennial. 70 days 34 141 4 2 $5 per day and mileage, and $30.
Nebraska ----------------- Biennial. 40 days 33 100 2 2 $3 per day and 10c. per mile.
Nevada ------------------- Biennial. 60 days 20 40 4 2 $8 per day and 40c. per mile.
New Hampshire----------- Biennial. None 24 321 2 2 $3 per day and mileage.
New Jersey--------------- Annual. None 21 60 3 1. $500 per year. e
New York. ------------ .---| Annual. None. 32 128 2 1 $1,500 per year and 10c. per mile.
North Carolina------------ Biennial. 60 days 50 120 2 2 $4 per day and 10c, per mile.
Ohio ---------------------- Biennial. None. 33 105 2 2 $600 per year and 12c. per mile.
Oregon ------------------- Biennial. 40 days 30 60 4 2 3 ś day and 15c. per mile. .
Pennsylvania ------------- Biennial. 150 days 50 201 4 2 1,000 for 100 days and 5c. permile
Rhode Island-------------- Annual. | None. 36 72 1 2 $1 per day and 83. per mile.
South Carolina------------ Annual. None. 35 124 4 1 $5 per day and 10c. per mile.
Tennessee----------------- Eiennial. 75 days 33 99 2 2 $4 per day and 16c. per mile.
ex8S--------------------- Biennial. 60 days 31 106 4 2 $5 per day and mileage.
Vermont------------------ Biennial. None. 30 240 2 2 $3 per day. -
Virginia ------------------ |Biennial. 90 days 40 100 4 2 $540 per year. o
West Virginia.------------- Biennial. 45 days 26 65 4 2 $4 per day and 10c, per mile.
Wisconsin ---------------- Biennial. None. 33 100 4 2 $500 per year and 10c. per mile.
808
..STATES.
— LIBEL, AND LIBERTY OF THE PRESS. The
declaration of rights in nearly every state consti-
tution prohibits any laws to restrain or abridge.
the liberty of speech or of the press. Many con-
stitutions couple this with a provision that in all
prosecutions for libel the truth may be given in
evidence to a jury, and if they find the matter
charged as libelous to be true, the party shall be
acquitted. This clause is a part of the constitu-
tions of Alabama, Arkansas, California, Colorado,
Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Illinois,
Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Maine, Michi-
gan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nevada,
New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania,
Rhode Island, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas,
West Virginia and Wisconsin. In the constitu-
tions of the following states the jury is empow-
ered to determine both the law and the facts in
cases of libel: Alabama, California, Colorado, Con-
necticut, Delaware, Georgia, Kentucky, Maine,
Maryland, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Ne-
braska, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania,
South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas and Wisconsin.
—LIEUTENANT GOVERNORS. In twenty-seven
states the lieutenant governor is ea officio president
of the senate, and succeeds to the office of gov-
ernor only upon the death, disability or resigna-
tion of that officer elect. The constitutions in
eleven states provide for no such officer as lieuten-
..ant governor, viz., Alabama, Arkansas, Delaware,
Georgia, Maine, Maryland, New Hampshire,
New Jersey, Oregon, Tennessee and West Vir-
ginia. — LIMITATIONS, STATUTES OF. Limitation
laws are designed to fix a reasonable time within
which a party is permitted to sue for the recovery
of his rights, and imply that his failure to do so
furnishes legal presumption that he has no rights in
the premises. The following table gives the present
state of the laws, barring actions in civil and crim-
inal matters in the various states and territories:
Assault Sealed
STATES AND siander, Open ac- Notes. Judg: *...*
TERRITORIES. replevin] counts. ments. #.
Ctc. ments.
- } Years, Years. Years. Years. Years.
Alabama -------- 1 : \6 20 10
Arkansas -------- 3 3 5 10 10
California ------- 1 2 4 5 4
Colorado.-------- 1 6 6 3 3
Connecticut ----- 1. 6 6 6 17
Dakota ---------- 6 6 6 20 20
Delaware -------- 3 3 6 20 20
Dist. of Columbia 1 3 12 12 12
Florida ------- * -- 2 4 5 20 20
Georgia.---------- 2 4 6 5 20
Idaho ----------- 3 3 5 5 5
Illinois ---------- 2 5 10 10 10
Indiana---------- 2 6 6 20 20
OW8. ------------ 2 5 10 20 10
Kansas ---------- 1. 3 5 5 15
Kentucky-------- 1 2 5 15 15
Louisiana-------- 1 3 5 10 20
Maine ----------- 2 6 20 20 2
Maryland.-------- 3 3 3 12 12
Massachusetts --- 2 6 20 20 20
Michigan -------- 2 6 6 10 10
Minnesota ------- 2 6 6 10 20
Mississippi ------ 1 3 6 7 7
Missouri--------- 1 5 10 5 10
Montana -------- 2 2 6 5 4
Nebraska -------. 1. 4 5 20 10
Nevada ---------- 2 4 6 6 6
New Hampshire. * ---------------- 20 10
New Jersey------ 2 6 6 20 16
New Mexico.----- 4 4 6 15 10
(contriNUED.)

Sealed
Assault, if.-
STATES AND |*|open act Notes. Judg: "..."
TERRITORIES. replevin Counts. ments. instru.
etc. ment.S.
Years. Years. Years. Years. Years.
New York ------- 6 6 6 15 15
North Carolina -- 1 3 3 10 10
Ohio ------------- 1 5 15 15 15
Oregon ---------- 2 6 6 10 20
Pennsylvania ----| 1 and 2 6 6 20 20
Rhode Island ---- 1 6 6 20 20
South Carolina--- 6 6 6 20 20
Tennessee ------. 1 6 6 10 --------
Texas------------ 1 2 4 10 10
Utah------------- 1. 2 4 5 7
Vermont--------- 2 6 14 8 8
Virginia --------- 5 5 5 10. 20
Washington Ter. - 2 3 6 6 20
West Virginia --- 5 5 6 10 10
Wisconsin ------- 2 6 6 10 20
Wyoming ------- 1 5 5 10 21
—Lott ERIES. The mischiefs arising from the
lottery system, as exhibited in the early decades
of this century in many states of the Union, led
to constitutional and legal interdiction of these
demoralizing games of hazard. In seventeen
states the constitution absolutely prohibits the leg-
islature from authorizing any lottery, and in most
of them requires it to pass laws prohibiting the
sale of lottery tickets. These states are Alabama,
Arkansas, California, Colorado, Illinois, Mary-
land, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri,
Nebraska, New Jersey, Tennessee, Texas, Vir-
ginia, West Virginia and Wisconsin. In the fol-
lowing eleven states the constitution itself prohib-
its lotteries absolutely: Florida, Georgia, Indiana,
Iowa, Kansas, Nevada, New York, Ohio, Oregon,
Rhode Island and South Carolina. In Louisiana
alone the constitution provides that “the general
assembly shall have authority to grant lottery
charters or privileges; provided, each charter or
privilege shall pay not less than forty thousand
dollars per annum in money into the treasury of
the state; and provided, further, that all charters
shall cease and expire on the first of January,
1895, from which time all lotteries are prohibited
in this state.” Kentucky tolerates lotteries by law.
In the remaining nine states there is no constitu-
tional provision on the subject, but lotteries are
illegal. — MARRIAGE AND DIVORCE. In view of
the vast importance of the marriage relation to
the moral and material well-being of every Com-
munity, the hasty and shifting legislation which
makes a chaos of conflicting state laws, instead of
a uniform system, can not be too much deplored.
The recently growing laxity of the laws, and still
more, of the practice under them, in many States,
has led to an unprecedented multiplication of di-
vorces. It is here proposed to note only the di-
versities prevailing in the statutes regulating mar-
riage and divorce in the various states. – Mar-
riage is defined as a civil contract in the codes of
fifteen states: Arkansas, California, Colorado,
Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Minnesota,
Missouri, Nebraska, Nevada, New York, North
Carolina, Oregon and Wisconsin. Whether a
marriage by simple consent of the parties (without
civil or ecclesiastical formalities) is valid at com-
mon law, has been disputed ; but the Supreme

STATES.
809
court of the United States decided that the inter-
vention of a clergyman is not necessary, and that
in the absence of a statute containing express
words of nullity, a marriage by mere consent is
valid. (96 U. S. Reports, 76.) In two states
only, California and Iowa, do the laws expressly
recognize simple consent of the parties as adequate
to constitute a binding marriage. On the other
hand, three states declare void all marriages not
solemnized by authorized persons. In twenty-
two states whose laws do not declare such mar-
riages invalid, the courts have usually sustained
them, when followed by cohabitation, as valid
under the common law. Six states, Maine, Mary-
land, Massachusetts, North Carolina, Tennessee
and Vermont, do not recognize such marriages, but
require consent before a magistrate or a minister.
In some other states, both the law and its adju-
dication are doubtful on this point. — Whether a
valid marriage can be contracted between those of
different race and color, is a question variously
decided. The statutes of eighteen states prohibit
or render void marriages between whites and per-
sons of African descent, viz., California, Colo-
rado, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Ken-
tucky, Maine, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri,
Nebraska, North Carolina, Ohio, Oregon, Ten-
nessee, Texas and Virginia. — The required ages
to render a marriage valid vary greatly. The old
common law limit of at least fourteen years for the
groom and twelve for the bride, is fixed by statute
in Kentucky, Louisiana, New Hampshire, Ten-
nessee, Virginia and West Virginia; the ages of
sixteen and fourteen are required in Iowa, North
Carolina and Texas; seventeen and fourteen in
Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Illinois and Indiana;
eighteen and fifteen in California, Minnesota,
Oregon and Wisconsin; and eighteen and sixteen
in Delaware, Michigan, Nebraska, Nevada and
Ohio. In other states the common law limit of
fourteen and twelve years is upheld without
special statute. In seven states, marriages may
be annulled because of impotence, and the same
disability is made ground for divorce in thirty
states. Consanguinity within certain degrees ren-
ders marriage void in twenty-seven states. A mar-
riage between an uncle and a niece is valid in Ma-
ryland if contracted before 1878, and absolutely
void in Connecticut. In thirty-one states a marriage
license or certificate is required, and if the parties
are minors, consent of parents must be shown. —
The persons before whom marriages must be
solemnized are variously directed to be judges of
courts, mayors, justices of the peace, notaries,
elders, ministers of the gospel, etc. Public regis-
tration of marriages is required by law in thirty-
three states, but by no means generally enforced.
— Regarding divorce, three widely different views
prevail : 1. That marriage is a sacrament, and
indissoluble for any causes arising after marriage.
This is the view of the Roman Catholic church.
2. That marriage is a sacred relation, and should be
dissolved only for adultery and desertion. 3. That
marriage is simply a civil contract, without any re-
ligious element, which, while not revocable by
mutual consent, may properly be dissolved for a
variety of cogent reasons. The legislation of the
various states now recognizes divorce as procura-
ble for cause in all except South Carolina, which,
in 1878, repealed all acts permitting divorces.
The constitutions of several states prohibit the
legislature from granting divorces by special acts;
doubtless upon the principle that this is in its na-
ture a judicial act, to be determined on evidence
and inquiry, and that legislatures should be re-
strained from usurping (as the British parlia-
ment set the example of doing) the power to de-
clare marriages dissolved. No such restriction
of the legislature exists in the New England states,
Or in New York and Delaware. The latter, how-
ever, is the only state where individual cases of
divorce are legislatively taken up, and in 1881,
thirteen divorces were actually granted. The
former law of Connecticut, permitting courts to
grant divorces for “any misconduct permanently
destroying the happiness of the petitioner, and de-
feating the purposes of marriage,” in force for
nearly thirty years, produced a scandalous and
constantly increasing crop of divorces, and was
repealed in 1878. Among the legal causes for
divorce are: 1, previous marriage, undissolved, in
seven states; 2, impotence, in thirty states; 3,
insanity at time of marriage, in two states ; 4,
consanguinity, in five states; 5, pregnancy at time
of marriage, without the husband's knowledge or .
agency, in nine states; 6, conviction of an infa-
mous crime before marriage, concealed, in two
states; 7, adultery, in thirty-seven states; 8, de-
sertion, in thirty-seven states; 9, cruelty, in thirty-
seven states; 10, conviction of or imprisonment
for crime, in thirty states; 11, habitual drunken-
ness, in thirty-five states; 12, neglect or refusal
on the part of a husband to provide for his wife,
in nine states; 13, gross neglect of duty in four
states. In New York alone the sole recognized
ground for an absolute divorce is adultery. As
to desertion, willful absence continued for One
year is ground for divorce in eight states—Ar-
kansas, California, Colorado, Florida, Kansas,
Kentucky, Missouri and Wisconsin; absence for
two years, in nine states—Alabama, Illinois, Indi-
ana, Iowa, Michigan, Mississippi, Nebraska, Ne-
vada and Tennessee; absence for three years, in
thirteen states—Connecticut, Delaware, Georgia,
Maryland, Massachusetts, Minnesota, New Hamp-
shire, New Jersey, Ohio, Oregon, Texas, Vermont,
and West Virginia; and desertion for five years,
in three states—Louisiana, Rhode Island and Vir-
ginia. In the other states, no limit of willful ab-
sence is specified by statute.—PARDONING POWER.
In most of the states the governor is invested by
the constitution with the power of granting
pardons, reprieves or commutation of Sentence to
convicted criminals under sentence ; exceptions
are made, in the constitutions of twenty states, of
treason and impeachment, as cases where no par-
doning power can be exercised. In the constitu-
tions of fourteen states impeachment alone with-
810
STATES.
draws the convicted person from the exercise of
the pardoning power. In Vermont alone the
crime of murder is added to the two cases just
named as beyond the reach of executive clem-
ency. In Oregon the only crime not subject to
pardon is treason. In Illinois the governor may
grant pardon for all offenses without exception.
In Kansas the governor is to exercise the pardon-
ing power only under such restrictions as provided
by law. While in twenty-seven states the gov-
ernor alone is invested with the pardoning power,
this power is vested in the governor and council
in the states of Maine, Massachusetts, New Hamp-
shire and Vermont; and in the governor and the
senate in Rhode Island. Four state constitutions
create a board of pardons, to share the respon-
sibility of exercising this power. In New Jersey
this board consists of the governor, the chancellor,
and the six judges of the court of appeals, a ma-
jority of whom must concur in granting par-
dons. In Florida and Nevada the governor, the
justices of the supreme court and the attorney-
general, or a majority of them, of whom the
governor must be one, may grant pardons. In
Pennsylvania the governor may exercise the power
of pardon only on the written recommendation
of the lieutenant governor, secretary of state, at-
torney general and secretary of internal affairs, or
any three of them, after full hearing and public
notice recorded and filed in the secretary’s office.
. In Connecticut the governor can grant reprieves
only until the end of the next legislative session;
he has no pardoning power. In California neither
the governor nor the legislature can pardon when
the convict has twice been convicted of felony,
except on the recommendation of a majority of
the judges of the supreme court. The states
in which the governor alone is invested with
the pardoning power are Alabama, Arkansas,
California, Colorado, Delaware, Georgia, Illinois,
Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Maryland,
Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Ne-
braska, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oregon,
South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia, West
Virginia and Wisconsin. In Louisiana the gov-
ernor can pardon only on the recommendation of
the lieutenant governor, attorney general, and the
presiding judge of the court trying the case, or
of any two of them. — Poli, TAx. While a capi-
tation tax is imposed upon males over twenty-one
years of age in most of the states by their consti-
tutions or laws, Kansas, Maryland and Ohio have
prohibited by their constitutions the levying of
any poll tax. No capitation tax is levied in Del-
aware, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kentucky, Michi-
gan, Minnesota, Missouri, New York and Penn-
Sylvania. In the remaining states a poll tax is
levied, varying in amount from fifty cents to three
dollars per annum. These states are Alabama,
Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut,
Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Maine, Massachu-
Setts, Mississippi, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hamp-
shire, New Jersey, North Carolina, Oregon, Rhode
Island, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Ver-
mont, Virginia, West Virginia and Wisconsin.
The payment of this tax is a condition precedent
of the right to vote in two states only, viz., Mas-
sachusetts and Rhode Island. In Virginia the
making the payment of a poll tax a condition of
suffrage was abolished by constitutional amend-
ment in 1882. In Nevada the legislature may
make such payment a condition of the right
of voting. In Delaware and Pennsylvania a
county tax must have been paid by all electors
to entitle them to suffrage. The constitution
of Kansas prohibits making the payment of a
tax a qualification for exercising the right of
suffrage. — REGISTRATION. In view of the great
importance of a well-regulated registration sys-
tem to secure fair elections, it is not surprising to
find it required by law or constitution in twenty-
nine states. The constitutions of Colorado, Flor-
ida, Maryland, Mississippi, Nevada, North Caro-
lina, Pennsylvania and South Carolina require
registration as a prerequisite to suffrage. Mis-
souri’s constitution requires it in cities only, doubt-
less on the theory that in country voting precincts
fraud is more easily detected, and less probable,
than in populous cities, with floating popula-
tions. In like manner the laws of New Jersey
and New York require registration in all cities of
10,000 inhabitants and upward, but not elsewhere.
No registration is required in Arkansas, Delaware,
Georgia, Indiana, Kentucky, Ohio, Oregon, Ten-
nessee, Texas and West Virginia. The constitu-
tions of three states prohibit registration, viz.,
Arkansas, Texas and West Virginia. In the re-
maining states a registration system is established
by law. It has been asserted (though not gener-
ally sustained) that acts of the legislature requir-
ing registration as a prerequisite to voting are un-
constitutional in states where the constitution is
silent as to registry, because it establishes a test
for qualifications of electors not found in the fun-
damental law. — RELIGION. Most state constitu-
tions embody in a bill of rights, or elsewhere, a
declaration that no religious test shall be required
for the enjoyment of any civil or political right.
But persons who deny the existence of God are
disqualified for office by the constitutions of Ar-
kansas, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Caro-
lina and Tennessee; while the constitutions of
Maryland, Pennsylvania and Texas imply a belief
in a Supreme Being as a qualification for Office.
Tennessee goes further in requiring belief in a
future state of rewards and punishments as a
qualification for office, and this after adopting, in
its declaration of rights, a provision that “no
religious test shall ever be required.” The major-
ity of constitutions declare that no preference
shall be given by law to any religious sect; New
Hampshire alone provides in its constitution that
the legislature may authorize towns and parishes
to provide for the maintenance of Protestant
teachers of religion. Connecticut gives the same
guarantee to every society or denomination of
Christians. The free enjoyment of all religious
sentiments and modes of worship is guaranteed in
STATES.
811
nearly all constitutions. The constitutions of the
following states declare that no witness shall be
held incompetent to testify because of his religious
opinions: California, Florida, Indiana, Iowa, Kan-
sas, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska,
Nevada, New York, Ohio, Oregon, Texas, West
Virginia and Wisconsin. Clergymen are ineligi-
ble to the legislature by the constitutions of Del-
aware, Kentucky, Maryland, Mississippi, New
York and Tennessee, and in several of these
states they are excluded from any civil office.
— SUCCESSION. Various methods of providing
for the succession to the chief magistracy, in case
of the death, resignation or disability of the gov-
ernor, prevail in the different states. Eleven states
have no lieutenant governor, and in nine of these
the constitution devolves the office of governor
upon the president of the senate and the speaker
of the house, successively, in case of vacancy.
In Maryland the general assembly must elect a
governor, if in session when the office is vacant;
otherwise, it is filled as in other states. In Oregon,
vacancy or inability in the office of governor, de-
volves it on, 1, the secretary of state, 2, the pres-
ident of the senate. In nine states the succession
falls, first, to the lieutenant governor; second, to
the president of the Senate pro tempore; third, to
the speaker of the house. In twelve states the
same constitutional provision exists, except that
there is no provision for a vacancy in the third
degree. In Wisconsin the vacancy is filled, first,
by the lieutenant governor, and secondarily by the
secretary of state. In Massachusetts, if the offices
of governor and lieutenant governor both become
vacant, their duties devolve upon the council. In
case of a double vacancy, the constitutions of In-
diana, South Carolina, Vermont and Virginia re-
quire the general assembly to provide by law
what officer shall act as governor. — SUFFRAGE.
The right to participate in elections is fixed in
each state by its own constitution and laws; these
being subject only to the 15th amendment to the
constitution of the United States prohibiting any
disabilities as to suffrage on account of color or
race. While aliens are generally excluded, fifteen
states admit to the suffrage foreigners who have
declared their intention to become actual citizens.
Other qualifications for suffrage embrace in some
states registration (See above), and in all, a certain
time of residence within the state and locality
where the voter seeks to exercise the suffrage.
The constitution of Kentucky requires two years'
residence in the state before one can vote; and
this is the longest residence required by any state.
The constitutions of Maine and Michigan require
only three months’ residence in the state; and this
is the shortest period anywhere required. Nine
states require six months’ residence, viz., Colo-
rado, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Mississippi, Nebras-
ka, Nevada, New Hampshire and Oregon. All
the other states require one year's residence with-
in their boundaries before conferring the right
to vote. Residence within the county is required
for periods varying from one month to one year,
and within the voting precinct for various times
running from Only ten days to six months. The
restrictions upon the right of suffrage are some-
what numerous, but of late years are becoming
steadily lessened in number. A property quali-
fication, which formerly prevailed in some states,
now exists only in Rhode Island, where the pos-
session of property to the value of 134 dollars
in real estate over all incumbrances is required,
or, (as an alternative) the payment of a tax to
the amount of one dollar. The payment of a
tax is a prerequisite to the right of suffrage in
Delaware, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania and Ten-
nessee. In all the states voters must be male
citizens of twenty-one years of age or upward,
although a limited suffrage has been extended
to women, enabling them to vote at school dis-
trict elections only, in Colorado, Massachusetts,
Minnesota, and some other states. Illiteracy, it
has been widely claimed, should be a bar to suf-
frage, but this view has prevailed continuously in
two states only; Massachusetts requiring that a
voter shall have the capacity to read the constitu-
tion and to write his name, and Connecticut that
he shall be able to read the constitution or stat-
utes. Among the most widely enforced disabili-
ties, idiots and insane persons are expressly ex-
cluded from the suffrage by the constitutions of
Alabama, Arkansas, California, Delaware, Flor-
ida, Georgia, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Maryland,
Minnesota, Mississippi, Nebraska, Nevada, New
Jersey, Ohio, Oregon, Rhode Island, South Caro-
lina, Texas, Virginia, West Virginia and Wiscon-
sin. Paupers are excluded in Delaware, Maine,
Massachusetts, Missouri, New Hampshire, New
Jersey, South Carolina, Texas, West Virginia and
Wisconsin. Persons convicted of crime are ex-
cluded by the constitutions of all the states except
Indiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mis-
souri, New Hampshire, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Ten-
nessee and Vermont. In most other states the
laws make the same exclusion. Persons under
guardianship are excluded in Florida, Kansas,
Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Minnesota,
Rhode Island and Wisconsin. Bribery, or offer
to bribe an elector to influence votes, is made a
disqualification for suffrage or office by the con-
stitutions of Alabama, Connecticut, Indiana, Lou-
isiana, Maryland, Missouri, New York, Pennsyl-
vania, Vermont and Wisconsin. Most of the
other states have provided by law severe penalties
for bribery, including, in some cases, exclusion
from suffrage for a term of years or indefinitely.
— SUNDAY. The laws against desecration of the
first day of the week have no constitutional sanc-
tion except the recognition of Christianity (in the
constitutions of a few states) and the permission
to the legislature to make laws promoting religion
and morality. The prohibition of labor or sports
on Sunday, although found in the laws of most
states, is not rigidly or continuously enforced in
any. While these laws may be defended on au-
thority and long custom, the fact that their en-
forcement has more and more fallen into desue-
812
STATISTICS.
tude, is too palpable for denial. These laws may
rest either upon specially religious grounds, or
upon the humane argument that experience shows
one day's rest in seven to be needful to human
welfare. Many judicial tribunals, in applying
the Sunday laws, have preferred to rest their en-
forcement upon the second ground rather than the
first, but if this utilitarian view of enforced Sun-
day rest as a benefit to the individual is to prevail,
the argument against special Sabbath laws, made
by those who rest on the seventh day of the week,
is unanswerable. The Jew may urge that the law
discriminates against his religion, and is therefore
unconstitutional in most of the states. Sunday as
a religious obligation properly rests upon the con-
sciences of the community ; and the Sanction
thrown around it by state laws, while of indefin-
able extent, and often incapable of enforcement,
marks the deference that is shown to the habits of
the majority in the state. Contracts made on Sun-
day are void by the laws of many states, though
by no means of all. — USURY. (See Interest and
Usury.) — WETo PoweR. In thirty-four states
the assent and signature of the governor are re-
quired by the constitution to enact any law. The
uniform provision is, that, in case of disapproval
of any act by the governor, he shall return it to
the house in which it originated, with his objec-
tions; the vote must then be taken in both houses
by yeas and nays. In nine states the constitution
provides that a majority of the whole number of
members of the legislature shall be sufficient to
enact a law notwithstanding the objections of the
governor, viz., in Alabama, Arkansas, Connecti-
cut, Indiana, Kentucky, New Jersey, Tennessee,
Vermont and West Virginia. In twenty-three
states two-thirds of the members of each house
are required to pass a law over the governor's veto,
namely, in California, Colorado, Florida, Georgia,
Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Maine, Massa-
chusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Mis-
souri, Nevada, New Hampshire, New York, Ore-
gon, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Texas, Vir-
ginia and Wisconsin. In two states, Maryland
and Nebraska, the constitution requires three-
fifths of the legislature to make a law without the
approval of the governor. The constitutions of
four states confer no power on the governor to
veto any act of legislation; these are Delaware,
North Carolina, Ohio and Rhode Island.—WOM-
EN. The separate rights of married women to
their property acquired before marriage, as well
as to that acquired afterward by gift or otherwise,
are guaranteed by the constitutions of eleven
states, including the provision that the wife's
property shall not be liable for the debts of her
husband. Essentially the same provision has
loeen incorporated in the statutes of nearly all the
states. Women are made eligible to offices con-
nected with schools by the constitutions of Louisi-
ana, Minnesota and Pennsylvania, while the right
to vote in the election of school officers is con-
ferred upon women in Colorado, Massachusetts,
and several other states. A. R. SPOFFORD,
STATISTICS. From the numerous defini-
tions of statistics which have been given since
Achenwall, the learned professor of Göttingen,
established this science and gave it a name, we
might think that it is very difficult to define its
nature and the extent of its domain. Such is not
the case, however. The most different definitions
have served as introduction to the most similar
works, and the ordinarily informed person is no
more ignorant than the adept, that, without fig-
ures, without “numerical terms,” there is no sta-
tistics. The quantity of explanations, develop-
ments and deductions which can be added without
encroaching upon some neighboring domain, is
all there can be any discussion about. — The ques-
tion whether statistics is a method or a science, as
if it could not be both, will also be discussed.
As a method, it is an instrument of observation;
instead of saying that the use of such and such a
remedy succeeds often or sometimes in such and
such a disease, the professor of medicine should
say to his pupils: According to the experiments
made up to the present time, the remedy has pro-
duced its effect in 63 cases out of 100, or in such
and such a settled proportion. As a method of
observation, it is applied only to large numbers.
To speak of 33 per cent. or of 25 per cent. when
only three or four experiments have been made,
is to abuse scientific forms, and sometimes know-
ingly to deceive the public. — As a science, sta-
tistics embraces all social and political facts pre-
sented in their numerical relations to one another,
as well as to space and time. As there is no po-
litical or social fact without men, we need not
add, as certain authors have done, that all statis-
tical facts must have relation to men. — It seems
that there are here well-determined limits, and that
there is no need of so many definitions. If no
author has been satisfied with the definition of
his predecessors, it is not because he wished to
see his own figure in the introduction to treatises
on statistics; it is because statistics, since its ori-
gin, has followed a two-fold tendency. The one
gave rise to descriptive statistics, as Achenwall de-
fines it: the thorough knowledge of the respective
and comparative situation (status) of each state; Or
of which Schlözer said that it was history at rest,
while history is statistics in motion (in other words,
statistics is the situation of a people taken at a
given moment); finally, what Napoleon I. called
the budget of things. Statistics thus understood
is a more or less reasoned inventory. The other
tendency which statistics has followed would
prove relations, discover laws; it is what, in the
last century, was called political arithmetic. It
was probably from this point of view that Goethe
viewed it when he said: “If figures do not govern
the world, they show at least how it is governed.”
For this purpose the inventory is not sufficient; it
is necessary to go to the bottom of “numerical
terms,” to scrutinize them, compare them, draw
deductions from them; according to Some, aver-
ages, and according to others, laws. Here is M.
Guerry's definition : “General statistics # * ex-
STATISTICS.
813
cludes descriptions, and consists essentially in the
methodical enumeration of variable elements,
whose average it determines.” And M. Dufour's :
Statistics is “the science which teaches how to
deduce from analogous numerical terms the laws
of the succession of social facts.”—Thus, some
make of statistics a descriptive science more or
less allied to geography; others, a science of de-
duction, employing mathematical processes, and
notably the calculation of probabilities. We be-
lieve that it is very easy to combine these two points
of view. People always commence by describing
the present; this is one of the forms of established
statistics. When many descriptions have succeed-
ed one another, it is possible to compare the present
situation with previous situations; this is done for
the whole of the facts as well as for One of the de-
tails; from this comparison is drawn a theory,
averages, laws; and this is how the form of sta-
tistics, once called political arithmetic, is devel-
oped. — This term leads us to the consideration
of another subject of discussion. Are “numeri-
cal terms ” applicable to political facts or to social
facts? William Playfair says of statistics, that it
consists of investigations into the political material
of states. The definitions of Peuchet, Gioja,
Schubert, Quétélet, Willermé and many others, in-
sist chiefly upon the political application, while,
with M. Dufour, M. Moreau de Jonnès applies
statistics only to social facts. He says: “Statis-
tics is the science of social facts, expressed in nu-
merical terms. Its object is the thorough knowl-
edge of society, considered in its elements, its
economy, its situation and its movements.” New-
ertheless, the discussions maintained as to the
distinctions between the political domain and the
social domain, are so trifling that perhaps none of
the authors whom we have cited have had the least
scruple to pass from “political facts” to “social
facts,” and vice versa. Moreover, are not these
two categories of facts most frequently confound-
ed? We will not stop, therefore, at these useless
distinctions. – Let us limit ourselves to a few
words upon another point, which has been very
much debated. M. Moreau de Jonnès maintains
that “statistics without figures, or whose figures
do not enumerate social facts, does not merit the
title which it borrows.” Statistics without fig-
ures is like a river without water, but a statistics
consisting only of figures is not the ideal one; in
this shoreless sea, where can the ship land? A
text is therefore necessary. But there is no gen-
eral rule as to the amount of explanations which
must accompany the ‘‘ numerical terms.” In ad-
dressing specialists, accustomed to study political
and social questions, few should be given; they
should be given more amply when it is intended
to enlighten or convince that portion of the pub-
lic whom figures repel, and who find “numerical
terms” very dry, and, to speak plainly, perfectly
wearisome. It is therefore only a matter of judg-
ment, of tact. — This settled (and we have com-
menced by clearing the ground of obstacles easily
removed), We approach a much more delicate
point. Let us again quote an author: we are so
fond of leaning upon something, even upon a
came which bends under our hand. M. Moreau
de Jonnès says: “It [statistics] proceeds con-
stantly by numbers, which gives it the character
of the precision and certainty of the exact sci-
ences.” This is a quality which people do not
tire of denying to statistics. Rightly or wrongly?
Rightly and wrongly. In fact, numbers are al-
ways precise, but they are not always exact. It
is not difficult, however, to know what figures
are exact and what are not; we have only to
find out how they were obtained. That is the
whole secret. If the verification has been made
in a positive and material manner, by counting,
measuring and weighing, the exactness is ab-
solute, and no one has the right to attack such fig-
ures, unless because of false entries in the public
accounts. A great deal of information is obtained
in this manner for the wants of public admin-
istration. Thus the amount of the finances rests
upon mathematical elements, and error is impos-
sible. The case is about the same with the statis-
tics of hospitals, prisons, births, marriages and
deaths, justice, means of communication, the post-
office and other similar things. But there are sta-
tistics, like those of agriculture, industry, con-
sumption, the revenue, and, in general, Of all facts
which can not be determined by exterior, palpable
signs, which often leave something to be desired
on the score of exactness, and give occasion for
serious criticism. However, there are two kinds
of exactness; one is absolute, the other approxi-
mative. The approximation is a makeshift; but
at bottom it is makeshifts which rule in life; the
absolute contrary of the makeshift would be the
ideal. But we do not insist upon this. Every
one understands that approximation is sufficient
for almost every use, even when there is question
of information which can be obtained with great
exactness. For example, if we should say: The
budget of receipts is 2,450,000,000, would it not
be generally satisfactory? and would it be neces-
sary to give it to a cent 2 We said, for almost
every use, and notably for the descriptive part of
statistics; mathematical exactness is indispensable
only when it is intended to state laws. For the
rest, it is necessary to beware of the evil tendency
of certain authors to set up statistical laws, and
to have ever present to the mind that an average
is not a law. Averages only show that there are
constant relations between such a fact and such
another; this constancy permits us to think that
these relations are necessary, and often this Con-
jecture will be seen to be well founded, but the
indication of figures has need of confirmation.
Therefore, leaving out of the question all bad
faith, there are statistics naturally exact, and Oth-
ers more or less so, according, 1, as the external
signs of the facts to be collected are more or less
evident; 2, as individuals are less interested to
dissimulate; and 3, as agents bring more skill,
knowledge or conscience to bear upon their state-
ments. But there is also a secondary cause of
814
STATISTICS.
inaccuracy, or rather of apparent contradiction,
in the statement of statistical facts, namely, that
different figures often bear the same title. It
often happens that one lays stress, without know-
ing it, or saying so, upon the net product, an-
other upon a gross product, a third upon a prod-
uct still more gross. Again, one will understand
by the word England only the country which bears
that name, a second will add to it the principality
of Wales, a third the islands, a fourth may go so
far as to confound England with Great Britain or
even with the United Kingdom ; this confusion
often occurs in ordinary conversation. We could
cite examples by the hundred in which there was
no question of ignorance, or of bad faith, or of
negligence, but of too great conciseness or a lack
of precision. — These examples explain, in some
measure, the reproach so often brought against
statistics, of furnishing arms at once both for and
against the same proposition. To the extent that
this reproach is founded—and this extent is not
large—it is deserved by the statistician, and not by
statistics. Thus, the art of grouping figures is only
a branch of the art of maintaining all theses, of
having arguments for all paradoxes and all Soph-
isms. When one wishes to defend his point of
view at any cost, he chooses figures, or makes
some prominent, and leaves others in the shade.
The enthusiastic man may sometimes proceed thus
with the best faith in the world: passion blinds.
Still, beyond the art of grouping figures, there re-
mains also, to justify the difference of conclu-
sions, the possibility and even a certain facility of
interpreting the same fact in different ways. It is
wrong to say of a fact or of a set of figures that
it is brutal. A man stretches out his hand to an-
other: is it to give him an alms or a thrust with a
dagger? A man places a sum of money in the
hand of his companion : how will you interpret
the act? Is he giving aid, or the price of a crime?
In such a year 100,000,000 kilogrammes of meat
were consumed in Paris : was it evidence of
plenty or of dearth ? The fact or the figures
alone mean nothing; it is the interpretation which
renders them eloquent. Now, the field of inter-
pretation is vast, and commentators can often
launch out in opposite directions; SO much the
worse for the one who is deceived and for those
he deceives. To sum up : if statistics gives arms
for and against, it is not because of the nature of
statistics, but because of the nature of our mind,
for the same reproach is applied to religion, phi-
losophy, the law, and to all moral and political
sciences, and, in a less degree but still in a degree
great enough, even to the sciences called exact.—
Statistics must have a very certain utility, if it has
been able to withstand all the attacks of which it
has been the object, attacks which embrace in their
generality at Once the accurate part and the inac-
curate part of the science of “numerical terms.”
In fact, it remains always true that statistics is the
budget of things, that inventory which no govern-
ment can dispense with. It is no less true that the
comparison of many well-proven facts makes us
find, or at least catch a glimpse of, truths which
might have escaped us. The faults of the instru-
ment impose upon us a prudence which is nowhere
Out of place, but do not oblige us to renounce its
employment. Fortunately, it is not with this in-
strument, as with many others, whose use is prohib-
ited for fear of abuse. The person who does not
know how to manage it, does not touch it, there-
fore no one will be wounded through his awkward-
ness; the only inconvenience which it can have is to
remain inert in hands which have not learned the
use of it. In other words, figures are a language
which everybody does not know how to read, and
from which few know how to draw all the infor-
mation contained in it.* MAURICE BLOCK.
* Statistics is the picture or representation of social life at
given periods of time, and especially of the present time,
drawn on a scale in accordance with the laws of development
discovered by means of the theoretical sciences: political
economy, the science of finance, administrative science, etc.
Schölzer calls statistics history standing still. Statistics,
as thus defined, is as far removed from saying too much as
from saying too little. To give a complete tableau of its ob-
ject, statistics should, of course, take in the life of a people
in all its aspects. But it should look upon such facts only as
its own property, the meaning of which it is able to under-
stand; that is, such only as can be ranged under known laws
of development. Unintelligible facts are collected only in
the hope of penetrating into their meaning in the future, by
comparing them with one another. In the meantime, they are
to the statistician what unfinished experiments are to the in-
vestigator of nature. —The view is daily gaining ground, that
statistics should be occupied (without, however, confining
themselves to them) with present facts, with “facts affecting
society and the state which are susceptible of being expressed
in figures.” The more deceptive the immediate observation
of an individual, isolated fact is, in cases in which a great
Inumber of simultaneous or scattered individual, isolated
facts of national life are observed, the more important it
is to discover proper numerical relations, by noting all the
like acts or experiences of men, the time and place in ques-
tion, and the relation of the aggregate of these phenomena
to the sum total of the population, or to the Sum total of
corresponding phenomena in other places. When this is
done, and the facts are completely enumerated, and correctly
recorded, there is no danger of subjective error. And this
species of “political and social measurement,” as Hildebrand
calls it, may be applied not only to quantities, but to all
qualities accessible to the observation of the senses; since
the individual or isolated qualities of the things enumerated
may be again made objects of enumeration. Without doubt,
this mode of numerical procedure is the most perfect for all
those divisions of statistics in which it can be followed, and
hence it should be our endeavor to make the numerical side
of statistics as comprehensive as possible. But one side of a
science is not a science itself. As there is no natural Science
proper, called microscopy, embracing all the observations
made by means of the microscope, so, care should be taken
not to deduce the principle of a science from the chief in-
strument it employs. There will always be many and im-
portant facts in national life, which can not be subjected to
numerical calculation, although they may be established
with the usual amount of historical certainty. Were statis-
tics to be limited in the manner mentioned above, it would
remain a collection of fragments, and, instead of being a
science, become a method. Besides, it is evident, that, of
statistics in general, economic statistics constitutes a chief
part, and precisely the part most accessible to numerical
treatment. As economic statistics needs to be always direct-
ed by the light of political economy, it also furnishes the
latter with rich materials for the continuation of its struc-
ture, and for the strengthening of such foundations as it al-
ready has. It is, moreover, the indispensable condition of the
application of economic theorems to practice.”—WILLIAM
ROSCHER.
STEPHENS.
STRIKES AND LOCKOUT.S. 815
STEPHENS, Alexander H., was born in
Wilkes (now Taliaferro) county, Ga., Feb. 11,
1812, and died at Atlanta, March 4, 1883. He
was graduated at the university of Georgia in
1832, and was admitted to the bar in 1834. On
the formation of the whig party in the state from
the old state rights, or Troup, party, he became
One of its prominent leaders. After six years'
Service in the state legislature, he became con-
gressman from his state, 1843–59, taking rank as
a whig leader in congress until the whig party was
dissolved, and afterward as an independent dem-
Ocrat. In 1860–61 he opposed secession earnestly,
but yielded when his state seceded. (See ALLE.
GIANCE, III.) He then became vice-president of
the confederacy until the downfall of the rebell-
ion. (See CONFEDERATE STATES.) In 1877 he was
again sent to Congress as a democrat, where he re-
mained until his election as governor in the au-
tumn of 1882.-See Johnston & Browne's Life of
A. H. Stephens (1878); Savage's Living Representa-
tive Men, 451; Bartlett's Presidential Candidates of
1860, 179; Cleveland's A. H. Stephens in Public
and Private (1866); A. H. Stephens’ Constitutional
|Wiew of the War Between the States, and The Re-
viewers Reviewed. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
STEVENS, Thaddeus, was born at Peacham,
Vt., April 4, 1792, and died at Washington city
Aug. 11, 1868. He was graduated at Dartmouth
in 1814, and was admitted to the bar in Pennsyl-
vania. After Serving in the state legislature at
intervals from 1833 until 1841 (see BROAD SEAL
WAR), he was sent to congress as a whig 1849–53,
and as a republican 1859–68. During this latter
term of Service he became most conspicuous as a
leader in the work of reconstruction by congress.
(See RECONSTRUCTION, and authorities under it.)
— See Thaddeus Stevens, Commoner, and the Me-
morial Addresses in the house on his death, pub-
lished in 1868. Harris' Political Conflict in Amer-
ºca was originally designed as a biography of him,
but it is written from a very adverse standpoint.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
ST00K EXCHANGE CLEARING HOUSE.
(See CLEARING, AND CLEARING Houses.)
ST00K JOBBING. (See AgroTAGE.)
STORY, Joseph, was born at Marblehead,
Mass., Sept. 18, 1779, and died at Cambridge,
Mass., Sept. 10, 1845. He was graduated at
Harvard in 1798, and was admitted to the bar in
1801. He served as a democratic congressman
1808–9, and in 1811 was appointed associate jus.
tice of the Supreme court. In his judicial work
he was the founder of admiralty jurisprudence
in the United States; and, in conjunction with
Chief Justice Marshall, was instrumental in se-
Curing recognition for the national existence of
the United States by the supreme court. (See
NATION, II.; JUDICIARY.) This latter part of his
Work he put into form in 1833 in his “Commen-
taries on the Constitution.”—See Story’s Life and
Letters of Story; Story’s Miscellaneous Works; 2
Webster's Works, 297; Story’s Commentaries on
the Constitution, and his decisions in Cranch's,
Wheaton’s and Peters’ Reports, and Gallison's, Ma-
son's, Sumner's and Story's Reports (Circuit).
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
STRICT C0N STRUCTION. (See CONSTRUC-
TION.)
STRIKES AND LOCKOUTS are suspensions
of work growing out of differences between em-
ployers and employed. Though it is customary
to speak of all such interruptions of labor as
strikes, some are more properly termed lockouts,
there being an essential difference between a strike
and a lockout. A strike is a suspension of work
resulting from a dispute originating in some de-
mand of the employed; a lockout, in some demand
of the employer. A stoppage of work, for exam-
ple, resulting from a demand on the part of
employés for an advance in wages, would be a
strike ; a stoppage resulting from a demand by
the employer for a reduction, would be a lockout.
An apparent exception to this definition, are those
strikes and lockouts entered upon for the purpose
of influencing the settlement of other strikes and
lockouts, as, when workmen who are satisfied
with their own wages cease work, to assist in en-
forcing the demands of other workmen who are
not satisfied, or, when employers “lockout” their
employés with whom they have no differences,
depriving them of work and its wages for the
purpose of preventing them from assisting strik-
ing workmen. In these and similar apparent ex-
ceptions, however, there is always a formal or
implied demand. — It is frequently difficult to
determine whether a labor contest should be clas-
sified as a strike or a lockout. Practically the
distinction is of little importance, except as it
bears on the question of the relative tendency of
employer and employed to take the initiative in
these industrial conflicts. Unless, therefore, it is
expressly stated to the contrary, the word strike
in this article will include both strikes and lock-
outs. – Classification of Strikes. Strikes and lock-
outs may be divided into three general classes.”
They are occasioned by 1, differences as to future
contracts; 2, disagreements as to existing con-
tracts; or 3, quarrels upon some matter of Senti-
ment. These contracts may be agreements more
or less formal, or customs of the trade and
methods of work and administration, which, from
long usage, have the force of agreements. The
first class named would include strikes arising
from differences as to the present and future
wages of labor ; from attempts to change existing
agreements, customs or methods, or to introduce
new ones. Disagreements under the second class
would arise either upon matters of fact or con-
* This is substantially the classification of Sir Rupert
Kettle, in his admirable work, “Strikes and Arbitrations,”
London, 1866.
816
STRIKES AND LOCKOUTS.
struction ; while quarrels of the third class grow
out of the offended amour propre, either of the
individual or the class. – Causes of Strikes. In
the early history of labor troubles the causes of
strikes were few. They arose chiefly from differ-
ences as to rates of wages, which are still the
most fruitful sources of strikes, and from quarrels
growing out of the dominant and servient rela-
tions of employers and employed. While labor
remained in a state of actual or virtual servitude,
there was no place for strikes. With its growing
freedom “conspiracies of workmen” were formed,
and strikes followed. The scarcity of labor in
the fourteenth century, resulting from the “black
death,” and the subsequent attempts to force men
to work at wages and under conditions fixed by
statute, were sources of constant difficulties, while
the efforts to continue the old relation of master
and servant with its assumed rights and duties, a
relation that English law recognizes to this day,
were, and still are, the causes of some of the
most bitter strikes that have ever occurred. —
With the rise of the craft-guilds, the opportunities
for strikes were increased, and the list of causes
enlarged. These craft-guild strikes rarely grew
out of differences as to wages, but from disputes
regarding presumed infringements of privileges,
or innovations of trade customs, and were some-
times undertaken for the most trivial causes. The
custom of blacklisting or “reviling,” as it was
termed, practiced by these guilds as a method of
punishment, was also a constant source of strikes,
the craftsmen refusing to work for the “reviled ”
master, or with the “reviled” journeyman, until
he had made atonement, and had been recognized
as honorable by the guild. In many respects
strikes growing out of modern trades unionism
resemble those of the craft-guilds, which organi-
zations are the precursors, if not the parents, of
modern unionism. In addition to these causes
named, many of which are still as potent as ever,
the changes in the relations of employer and em-
ployed, and of workmen to each other, and to
their occupations, arising from the modern organi-
zation of labor and industry, have introduced new
sources of discontent, and consequently increased
the list of causes from which strikes may arise.
The possible causes of strikes at the present time,
therefore, are much more numerous than they
were formerly, and the liability to trouble greatly
increased. —While this is true, a careful analysis
of the various causes shows that they can all be
grouped under a few general heads. Strikes are
caused by differences as to : 1, rates of wages, de-
mands for advances or reductions, chiefly; 2, pay-
7ment of wages, changes in the method, time or
frequency of payment; 3, hours of labor; 4, ad-
ministration and methods of work, for or against
changes in the method of work or rules and
methods of administration, including the difficul-
ties regarding labor-saving machinery, piece-work,
apprentices and discharged employés; 5, union-
78m, 6, miscellaneous, including strikes from mat-
ters of Sentiment, and a few others that do not
admit of classification. — Strikes result most fre-
quently from differences regarding rates of wages.
In an investigation into the strikes of 1880, made
for the United States census by the writer, a clas-
sification according to causes gave the following
result :

CAUSES. Number...º.o.
Rates of Wages--------------------- 582 71.59
Payment of Wages ------------------ 35 4.30
Hours of labor---------------------- 7 .86
Administration and methods of work| 107 13.17
Trades unionism-------------------- 22 2.70.
Miscellaneous----------------------- 9 1. 11
Not given -------------------- - - - - - - - 51 6.27
Total --------------------------- 813 100.00
This exact proportion will not hold good for all
years, but it is safe to assert that strikes growing
out of disputes regarding rates of wages will
always be more than 50 per cent. of the whole
number of strikes. The proportion of strikes
arising from demands for advances or demands
for reduction, the two chief causes of difficulties
connected with rates of wages, will vary greatly
in different years, depending chiefly upon the con-
dition of business, demands for advances being
more frequent in years of high prices, and for re-
ductions in years of low prices. Of the strikes
arising from differences as to rates of wages,
which were reported upon in the above table, 86
per cent. were for advances, and 14 per cent.
against reductions. – Conditions Influencing the
Frequency of Strikes. Our information is too mea-
gre, and what is available too fragmentary and in-
exact, to justify the formulating of any universal
laws as to their frequency, or any unconditional
proposition as to their justice or policy. There are,
however, certain facts which a study of strikes and
lockouts seems to make evident. Consider, first,
the conditions that influence their frequency. As
has already been indicated, the modern organiza-
tion of industry and labor has largely increased
the possibility of strikes. While I can not accept
the definition of some writers, that strikes are “re-
fusals of a number of workmen in combination
to work on the terms offered by the employer,” “
there can be no doubt that the opportunities of-
fered for combination by the aggregation of large
bodies of workmen of the same trade in the same
locality, and the ease of communication between
those of the same class employed in different lo-
calities, have greatly increased the number of
strikes, and māde those that have occurred of
much greater importance. It will, therefore, be
found, as a rule, that in those trades in which a
large number of men are engaged in the same oc-
cupation, and in localities where large bodies of
workmen congregate, strikes are comparatively
* This is Prof. T. E. Cliffe Leslie's definition. It does not
seem to me that “a number of workmen in combination"
are essential to a strike, and all Strikes, using the word as
Prof. Leslie does, to indicate strikes and lockouts, are cer-
tainly not refusals of workmen to work on the terms offered
by the employers. - -
STRIKES AND LOCKOUTS.
817
frequent. There are but few strikes in the agri-
cultural occupations; but many in the mining,
mechanical and manufacturing industries. – Fre- |
for a conviction of success through the power of
combination. While this is true regarding all com-
quently changes in the prices of commodities in-
crease the number of strikes. These render nec-
essary more frequent changes in the rates of wages,
and in the relations of employer and employed,
and, as it is not possible always to agree as to what
these changes shall be, strikes follow. The im-
proved methods of communication and transpor-
tation, and the remarkable development of manu-
facturing industry in modern times, has much to
do with these fluctuations, and consequently with
the increase of strikes. Under the methods and
facilities of some centuries ago, the periods of
fluctuations were spread over many years. Agree-
ments concerning work, or “terms of hiring,” as
they were called, were for the year, and demands
for advances or reductions were made at the time
of the yearly contracts. This is changed now ;
fluctuations in prices follow each other at times
with the greatest rapidity, and with them come
demands for an increase or reduction in wages,
which, if not granted, end in strikes or lockouts.
It will be found, however, that strikes arising from
these fluctuations are not always the most frequent
during the period of rapid advances, nor lockouts
during a decline, though demands for changes in
wages are most prevalent at such times. They
generally occur at or near the beginning of such
periods, or near their close. When the market is
rapidly advancing or declining, the conditions are
usually such as to render opposition futile, and a
demand made is conceded, but when the advance
or decline in prices is beginning, or when it is near-
ing its end, there is so much opportunity for dif-
ferences, not only as to the existing conditions of
business, but as to its future, that a peaceable so-
lution can not be reached so readily as when there
is no uncertainty as to the state of prices. – It is
upon the existence of one or both of these condi-
tions, viz., opportunities for combination, and the
fluctuations in prices of commodities, and the ad-
vantage taken of their presence, that the frequency
of strikes and lockouts largely depends. What-
ever may be the real or apparent necessity for an
appeal to industrial warfare, neither employer nor
employed will inaugurate a strike or lockout, ex-
cept in very rare cases, without a reasonable pros-
pect of success. In estimating these probabilities
the strength and character of the combination that
the workmen may form, or that the employer must
meet, as well as the state of the market, are the
chief determining elements. It will be found that
it is a belief, that the party making the demand is
strong enough to enforce it, or that the condition
of the market is such that the party upon whom
the demand is made can concede it, and will event-
ually be forced to do so, that determines whether
or not a strike or lockout shall be undertaken. —
Trades Unions and Strikes. Much has been writ-
ten as to the influence of trades unions upon the
frequency of strikes. As has already been stated,
there can be no doubt that combinations of work-
171 VOL. III. — 52
men, or trades unions, have had a marked influ-
ence in increasing the number of strikes. Many
never would have been undertaken had it not been
binations, it is very doubtful if it is true of the
strong, well-organized unions that have repre-
sented certain classes of workmen for some years.
While many of these unions are responsible for
some of the most determined, hotly contested and
important strikes of the century, some of which
were totally indefensible, it is also true, as a rule,
that their utterances and influence are against
strikes. Their refusals to undertake general strikes,
or to countenance local ones, are quite frequent.
Not only has their positive influence been exer-
cised against strikes, but indirectly they have had
a marked effect in reducing their number. Ad-
justments of wages to which they have been par-
ties have, as a rule, been for longer periods than
when rates have been fixed without unions; their
strength has made them respected, and deferred
demands upon the trades they represented until a
real necessity for reductions existed; while their
accumulated funds and the force of public opin-
ion, to which they are quite sensitive, have ren-
dered them conservative and disinclined to enter
upon a strike until no other course seemed open.
— The Statistics of Strikes. It is manifestly im-
possible to secure complete and accurate statistics
of strikes. Many are never heard of by others
than the parties engaged, and when information
concerning those that are known is not refused,
the statements made are frequently so incomplete
and inaccurate, and so evidently colored by the
views and supposed interests of the party giving
them, that they are far from reliable in many of
their particulars. Notwithstanding this, the pub-
lished statistics of strikes are of great importance.
They render available much valuable information
concerning the number, character, losses and re-
sults of strikes, and furnish many facts necessary
to a decision as to their policy and justice. The
most important publications on this subject are .
the “Report of the British Social Science Associ-
ation” (“Trade Societies and Strikes,” London,
1860); a paper read by Mr. G. Phillips Bevan be-
fore the statistical society, London, Jan. 20, 1880,
the first attempt to give the statistics of the strikes
of any country for a series of years; the “Report
of the Massachusetts Bureau of Labor Statistics”
for 1880, and of Pennsylvania for 1882, giving
the statistics of strikes in these states for a series
of years; and the “Report on Strikes in the United
States for 1880," compiled for the United States
census by Jos. D. Weeks. The reports of Several
of the royal and parliamentary committees of Great
Britain on labor subjects, and the annual reports
of many trades unions also, contain much valuable
information on strikes. These latter, however, are
not generally available. Mr. Bevan reports on
2,352 strikes in Great Britain, covering the years
from 1870 to 1879. The loss in wages alone from
114 of these strikes was £5,067,825. In the writ-
818
SUBSIDIES.
er’s “Census Report,” statistics more or less com-
plete are given of 762 strikes that occurred in the
United States in 1880. In 414 of these, 128,262
persons were engaged. The report gives quite full
returns from 226 strikes, in which 64,779 persons
took part. The time lost was equal to the work of
one man 1,989,872 days, and the wages unearned
for this time, $3,711,097. Of the direct losses in
the remaining 506 strikes no statement was re-
ceived, nor of the indirect losses to capital, to the
workmen not directly engaged, and to the wealth
of the country. It is probable that the striking
workmen recouped their losses in part from their
society funds and from contributions, as well as
by working at other employments; but, after all
allowances are made, it still remains a deplorable
fact that the waste and loss from strikes are enor-
mous. – Results of Strikes. The history of strikes
abundantly proves that as a rule they are not suc-
Cessful; that is, the demand which was the cause
of the strike is not conceded. Of 351 of the strikes
reported upon by Mr. Bevan in his paper already
referred to, 189 were unsuccessful, 71 successful,
and 91 compromised. Of 149 reported upon by
the Massachusetts bureau of labor statistics, only
18 were successful, 109 unsuccessful, 16 compro-
mised, and 6 partially successful. The report of
the Pennsylvania bureau on 135 strikes showed
45 successful, 66 unsuccessful, 13 compromised,
and 11 partially successful. The census report
gives the results of 481 strikes, of which 169 were
successful, 227 unsuccessful, and 85 compromised.
This report shows also that the workmen are more
successful in strikes growing out of demands for
advances than they are in resisting demands for
reductions. With the exception of the census re-
port on strikes, these statements cover a Series of
years, including periods of great depression in busi-
ness, as well as prosperous times, and may, there-
fore, be regarded as giving fairly average results.
— The Eapediency of Strikes. Of the utter folly
of many strikes, there can be no question. They
have been doomed to defeat from their inception.
They have been undertaken in defiance of all eco-
nomic laws, in ignorance of the real condition of
trade, and without any just cause. They have
wasted capital and decreased the wealth of the
country. They have brought hunger, misery, debt;
have broken up homes, severed long associations,
forced trade to other localities, and driven men
and women and little children into the very shadow
of death; and yet men, knowing that all of these
possibilities are before them, will deliberately enter
upon strikes, will cheerfully bear all these priva-
tions, and, what is more remarkable still in many
instances, the wives of the strikers, upon whom
the misery falls with the most crushing force, will
be the most determined in their resolution. It
would seem that there must be some reason for
this, and I believe it will be found that strikes are
not wholly wrong, and that even unsuccessful
ones are in many ways advantageous to the strik-
ers. Labor has had to fight for every advantage
it has gained, and though it is often defeated in
its struggles that are called strikes, it has not only
learned in these contests how better to wage fu-
ture battles, but it has so impressed employers
with its strength that it has made them shy of en-
countering antagonists constantly growing more
formidable. The most hopeful indication of mod-
ern industrial Society is the great increase of mu-
tual respect and good-will between employers and
employed, as well as a greater regard on the part
of each for the rights of the other. To this result
strikes have contributed in no small degree. They
have also asserted the right of combined labor to
deal with combined capital, and have denied the
claim that the true labor market was found in the
“higgling” of capital with all its power, and one
individual workman with his weakness and neces-
sities. In addition to this, it will be found that
many of the movements that have bid fair to im-
prove the condition of labor, such as co-operation,
industrial partnerships, boards of conciliation and
arbitration, as well as wise rules and policy on the
part of trades unions, owe much to strikes.
- JOS. D. WEEKS.
SUBSIDIES. This word has been used in
three quite distinct senses. 1. In earlier English
constitutional history it is applied to the form of
special tax most frequently resorted to until the
last century. It was assessed not directly upon
property, but upon persons. Its most important
element was a land tax of one-fifth the nominal
rental. A single subsidy yielded about £70,000.
On extraordinary occasions more than one at a time
was granted by the house of commons. (Black-
stone, vol. i., p. 311.) 2. In the last century and
the beginning of the present century, we find the
term commonly used to denote payments to an
ally to assist in carrying on a war. This practice
was largely resorted to by England; but since
1815 it has fallen into disuse. 3. In its modern use,
dating from about 1840, it has been applied to any
direct pecuniary aid rendered by the state to in-
dustrial enterprises of individuals. In its widest
sense it includes all such government aid, even to
mercantile and manufacturing industry, as, for in-
stance, the system of bounties on exports, which
holds so important a place in the commercial policy
of France. Practically, it is better to apply the term
only to grants in aid of transportation interests.-
The earlier form of state aid to these enterprises
was by enabling them to secure monopoly rights.
These were fully embodied in the early trading
charters; the principle survives to this day in the
navigation laws of the United States. Our earli-
est railroads attempted to secure similar provisions.
But the development of the transportation system
in the present century, and the growing repug-
nance to monopolies, made this policy more unwise
than ever; and the system of subsidies, that is, of
direct state aid, was resorted to instead. Such aid.
may be given either by assuming part of the bur-
den and risk of construction, or by increasing the
current receipts for a term of years. The former
policy has prevailed for railroads, the latter for
SUBSIDIES.
819
steamships. – Railroad building has been encour-
aged in three ways: 1. By the state building
the lines’for the companies to operate for a term
of years, either with or without payment of rent;
2. By a guarantee of interest on a part or the whole
of the bonded debt, or even on the capital stock;
3. By direct grants, either of money or of public
lands. Every large European state, except Eng-
land, has adopted one or more of these methods.
France built the roadbed for most of her main
lines, and guaranteed the interest on the bonded
debt incurred by the operating companies in build-
ing branches. Prussia gave extensive guarantees
of interest, until the adoption by her government
of the policy favoring state ownership and control
of railways. Austria started with a system of state
railways, but, between 1850 and 1860, ceded to
private companies, for very inadequate compen-
sation, the right to operate most of them for long
terms of years. Practically, the results to the Com-
panies have been much the same as under the
French system. Austria also gave extensive and
ill-judged guarantees of interest, on stock as well
as bonds. Nearly the same course of events has
taken place in Italy. Russia has given interest
guarantees, and also direct pecuniary aid in large
amounts. – In the United States payments of
money to assist railways have been mainly appro-
priated by towns and other local Organizations.
Much has been spent in this way, but in such a
manner as not to attract public attention. Na-
tional aid to railroads has been, with one excep-
tion, in the form of land grants. Even before the
time of railroads, there had been such grants in aid
of canals, two million acres in 1827 being the chief
instance. But the system really took its start in
the year 1850, with the grants to the Illinois Cen-
tral and the Mobile & Ohio railroads. These
grants, like those that followed them, were for
form’s sake not made directly to the railroads, but
through the medium of the states of Illinois, Ala-
bama and Mississippi, in which the lands were
situated. Similar grants followed in Missouri in
1852, Arkansas in 1853, and in a number of other
states in 1856. By these and subsequent conces-
sions nearly fifty-seven million acres of land in
organized states were granted in all, of which fully
three-fifths have been certified to the corporations.
In addition to this, immense tracts of the so-called
swamp land, often very valuable, have been appro-
priated by individual states for the same purpose.
— The matter took a new shape in 1862, when
Thaddeus Stevens, in order to bind California
closer to the Union, introduced and carried the
Pacific railroad bill. By the terms of this act there
were granted 12,800 acres of land to each mile of
road built (ultimately amounting to about 33,000,-
000 acres in all); and, in addition, the credit of the
United States was pledged to the amount, on an
average, of $25,000 per mile, or about half the
cost. On the money thus advanced, the United
States had paid, up to 1880, principal and inter-
est, about $112,000,000, and had received from the
road about $15,000,000 worth of payment. When
speculator.
it came to the incorporation of the Northern
Pacific railroad, the promoters would have been
glad to cite this as a precedent; but, as they could
not obtain the government credit, they secured a
double grant of land per mile, 47,000,000 acres
in all. Subsequently the two southern routes
secured together about 70,000,000 acres. There
have been granted to railroads, in all, nearly 160,-
000,000 acres of territorial land, besides the state
lands above mentioned. — Land concession came
to an abrupt end twelve years ago. It is a ques-
tion whether, apart from its abuse, it was a good
system. Its advocates claim : 1, that the country
was the gainer by the construction of long lines
of useful railroad at a much earlier time than
would have been possible otherwise; 2, that the
government was no loser, because the land was
only granted in alternate sections, and the imme-
diate increase in value of those sections retained by
the government was more than an equivalent for
the much slower increase in the value of the whole
which would otherwise have accrued; 3, that the
settler was againer because he could better afford to
pay the additional price for the sake of being near
a railroad. On the other side it is charged: 1, that
it stimulated unsound railroad schemes and caused
too much railroad building; 2, that the provisions
intended to protect the government interests were
almost systematically disregarded; 3, that the set-
tler, once established so far from markets and from
competing transportation routes, was placed at
the mercy of the railroad; while the real gainer
by these enhanced values was generally the land
The comparative force of these argu-
ments must be decided by the special circumstances
of each case where they are applied; but there
have been so many mistakes, and so much cor-
ruption, that the burden of proof in every case
lies upon the advocates of the land-grant policy.
—England never adopted any system of railroad
subsidies. Her inland relations were such that her
people were only too ready to undertake the con-
struction of the necessary lines without govern-
ment encouragement. But England's foreign and
colonial relations were such as to force her gov-
ernment to take the lead in the matter of steam-
ship subsidies; and it did so with great prompt-
ness. It was not until 1838 that the practical im-
portance of ocean steam navigation was made to
appear. Proposals for a line of Atlantic mail
steamers were at once invited, and in 1839 the
contract was awarded to Samuel Cunard, whose
bid was the most favorable. The original con-
tract was for three ships at an annual compensa-
tion of £55,000; it was soon modified to four ships
at £81,000. This contract was extended and
modified to the advantage of the company in 1846,
1854 and 1858; it is only within the last fifteen
years that it has been greatly reduced. In 1840 a
contract for fourteen ships at £240,000 was made
with the Royal Mail steam packet company, for
the carriage of the mails to the West Indies and
southern United States. This company afterward
extended its field of operations to South America.
820
SUBSIDIES.
In 1845 the Peninsular & Oriental company, which
had had for Some years a small mail contract, en-
gaged to run seven mail steamers to India for £160,-
000; and this company gradually extended its en-
gagements with the government, so that for a se-
ries of years it has received more than £400,000,
and often £500,000, annually. The contracts with
these three companies have been by far the most
important; of the rest only those with the Pacific
steam navigation company and with the Union
steamship company, to Africa, need be men-
tioned. Under contracts like these, England ex-
pended in forty years nearly £45,000,000 sterling.
The expense is now gradually decreasing, but still
amounts annually to some £700,000 sterling. —
These payments are so often cited as an example
for America to follow, that we must consider care-
fully how far they were actually of the nature of
bounties for the encouragement of the shipping
interest. The early contracts with Mr. Cunard
were unquestionably of this nature. Ocean steam
navigation was then an experiment; and Great
Britain’s colonial relations made it a political ne-
cessity for her to try the experiment first. Her
statesmen were forced to take the burden of risks
which no private individual could prudently bear;
hence the apparent disproportion of the payments
to the cost of the steamships. Nor is there good
reason to doubt the candor of the commons com-
mittee, who, in 1846, reported, in answer to some
complaints on this head, that the service was bet-
ter performed by that company for the price
than it would be by any other. But twelve years
later, when the business was thoroughly estab-
lished, the conservatism of the admiralty allowed
the Cunard contract to be renewed at a figure
which was then quite in the nature of a bounty,
and was felt by the postoffice to be burdensome
and unfair. There was somewhat the same spirit
shown in dealing with the Royal Mail company,
especially in renewing their contract in 1868,
when, for certain reasons, the business was not
thrown open to public competition, as had been the
case in all other instances since 1860. The ques-
tion is a complicated one; but it is impossible to
read the correspondence of the authorities with a
rival line, and particularly a report for the gov-
ernment by Mr. Scudamore (Parl. Papers, 1867–8,
xli.), without feeling that there was an anxiety
not merely to have the service well done, but to
keep in good condition the line which had done it
in the past.— The company whose case is oftenest
cited as an example of what is done by govern-
ment subsidy, is the Peninsular & Oriental. But
here there is much less ground for so doing than in
the two former cases. The company owed its ori-
gin and early development to private enterprise; so
far from being favored by government contract,
it often seemed as if partiality was shown against
it; and when it was finally recognized as the only
agency competent to perform certain necessary
parts of the mail service, the contracts were
awarded grudgingly at a sum which was consid-
ered scarcely an equivalent for the extra liabilities
gregate service.
and expense incurred. The facts which have giv-
en rise to the public impression, are the enor-
mous aggregate sum paid to the company, the re-
newal of one of its contracts some years before
its expiration, on terms which seemed especially
advantageous, and, above all, the guarantee, for
some years in force, of a 6 per cent. dividend on
the capital stock of the company. The enormous
aggregate pay is explained by the enormous ag-
The COntract renewal in 1870
was really sought by the authorities to obviate
some difficulties under the old contract, which
gave them far more trouble than they did the
company. The guaranteed dividend requires a
word of explanation. In 1867 the company was
disinclined to take the government contract, be-
lieving that the pay offered would not compensate
the service required. The authorities were equal-
ly persuaded that it would. As no other com-
pany would undertake the work, the matter was
compromised; the company taking the contract
with the proviso that if they should, under its
terms, be unable to pay a 6 per cent. dividend
(not 8 per cent., as has been frequently stated), the
government should make good the deficiency.
Experience proved the company’s original esti-
mate a correct one. How the matter was regard-
ed by the government is illustrated by the follow-
ing extract from Mr Scudamore's report (Parl.
Papers, 1867–8, xli., 131, incl. 3): “It would seem
that in dealing with ocean services the postoffice
has only two questions to consider: first, what is
the nature of the service required; and, second,
what is the proper price to pay for it. In the case
of communication with the east, parliament has
openly declared in favor of a more frequent and
equally regular and rapid communication ; the
postoffice has ascertained that only one company
will undertake the maintenance of that communi-
cation, and I think I may also claim to say that it
has ascertained, with a reasonably close approxi-
mation to accuracy, the proper price to pay for it.
For the proper price must in every such case be
that which, taken together with the revenue from
traffic, will cover the working expenses and give
a moderate dividend on capital. It is impossible
to obtain good service on other terms. The ques-
tion can not be dealt with on commercial princi-
ples, because the conditions of the postal service
compel the contractors to disregard commercial
principles. * * For the sake of keeping up
such communication with the east as the nation
requires, they must set commercial principles at
defiance; and, cost what it may, the nation must
either pay them what they lose thereby, or forego
the communication.” (See also Rep. Of Com. On
Affairs of Oriental S. S. Co., 1867, ix.) — Of Eng-
land’s mail contract system it may be fairly said:
1, that its aims are political and not commercial.
It is a necessity for England to have constant.
communication with her colonies, and she has
spent large sums for this object. It is almost
equally important for her to have an efficient naval
reserve and transport Service, and she has made
SUBSIDIES.
821
her mail contracts one among Several means to-
ward this end. 2. That the incidental commer-
cial advantage to the subsidized companies has not
been generally great, except at a very early period
of the system. This is evinced by the fact that
rival unsubsidized lines have been equally suc-
cessful, and that the largest contracts have been
On terms which made them a matter of indiffer-
ence to the party receiving them. — The French
government encouraged the Mediterranean steam-
ship service from the first, and in the years 1861–5
extended its operations to the support of lines to
North and South America, India and China. The
annual amount recently paid under these con-
tracts has been more than four and a half million
dollars. These efforts met with some degree of
success; but the attempt, by the law of January,
1881, still further to increase the French carrying
trade by bounties on ship building, sometimes as
high as 60 francs per ton, and by a navigation
bounty with a maximum of 1.50 francs per ton
per thousand miles, did not produce the desired
results. Of other nations, Italy, in 1880, spent
more than three million dollars on steamship
subsidies; Brazil, one million seven hundred
thousand; Japan, half a million. Belgium, in
1878, spent over a quarter of a million; Austria,
a mileage rate, with a maximum of about three
hundred thousand dollars; Russia, a moderate
fixed sum, and a mileage rate in addition. The
subsidies of Portugal and Holland are small;
those of Germany and Denmark apply only to
Baltic steamers. The most successful ocean steam-
ship lines of the continent, those of Hamburg and
Bremen, receive no pay from the government
other than the very moderate postage rates. (45th
Cong., 2d Sess., Ex. Doc. 38; 46th Cong., 3d
Sess., House Com. Report, 342.)—The United
States was reluctant to allow England to get the
start in Ocean steam navigation. In 1841, only
two years after the first Cunard contract, T. But-
ler King, of Georgia, chairman of the house com-
mittee on naval affairs, presented a report urging
similar subsidies on the part of the United States.
In 1845 an act was passed authorizing the post-
master general to make contracts for the carriage
of the foreign mails in American steamships.
The first line established under this system was
from New York to Bremen; the first passage was
made in 1847. The steamers ran ultimately twice
a month, to Havre and Bremen alternately, for an
annual subsidy of $350,000. Mr. King continued
to push the subject; and in March, 1847, an act
was passed requiring the secretary of the navy to
Contract for mail service from New York to Liv-
erpool, to New Orleans, Havana and Chagres, and
from Panama up the Pacific coast. From these
contracts arose the Collins line, the George Law
line to Aspinwall, and the Pacific Mail steamship
Company. In 1848 there were further resolutions
in congress looking to the establishment of lines
to China, to Antwerp, and to the mouth of the
Elbe, but these proposals were never actually car-
ried out. By the act of March 3, 1851, the amount
expended for Pacific mail service was largely in-
creased, provision being at the same time made
for the Panama railroad; and in July, 1852, the
Subsidy for the Collins Line to Liverpool, origi-
nally $385,000, was increased to $858,000. Oct. 1,
1852, the United States foreign mail service was
as follows:

#. PointS. No. of Trips. º
1. New York to Bremerhaven Once a month. $ 200,000
2. Charleston to Havana -...--- Twice a month. 50,000
ſ Nº. to jºi .
ew Orleans to Aspinwa & -
3. | New York via Havana to } Twice a month. 290,000
U New Orleans ---------- J .
4. Panama to Oregon -------- Twice a month. *348,250
5. New York to Liverpool.--. 26 per year, 858,000
6. New York to Havre ------. Once a month. 150,000
7. Aspinwall to Panama------ Twice a month. 50,436
Total ---------------------|------------------ $1,946,686
—By far the most ambitious of these enterprises
was the Collins line to Liverpool. The United
States government had demanded such vessels as
would afford a very high rate of speed; therein
departing from the English policy, which demand-
ed regularity and great Safety at comparatively
slow rates, as exemplified in the Cunard and Pe-
ninsular & Oriental lines. The Collins steamships
thus cost a large sum in their construction, and a
career of exceptional prosperity was needed to sup-
port them even with the assistance of the subsidy.
This prosperity they enjoyed for four years, from
1850 to 1854. In September of that year they lost
the steamship “Arctic,” and little more than a
year later the “Pacific.” Under the dissatisfaction
produced by these disasters, combined with other
reasons, the subsidy was withdrawn. The line
succumbed, and in 1858 the steamships were sold.
The other subsidies were discontinued at about the
same time. The Bremen line withdrew its steam-
ships on the expiration of the contract in 1858; the
Havre line continued operations until after the
breaking out of the rebellion. A considerable
portion of the United States mail service was at
this time maintained by Vanderbilt's steamships
without subsidy; but these ceased in the war time
to be employed in this way. At the beginning of
1864 we had no steamships crossing the ocean, and
none engaged in foreign trade except the Havana.
and Pacific lines. (See Memorial of New York
Chamber of Commerce, 1864.) — In that year con-
gress authorized a mail contract for twelve round
trips, of vessels of not less than 2,000 tons, from
New York to Brazil, at an amount not exceeding
$150,000. The most favorable offer was made by
J. F. Navarro, representing what afterward be-
came the United States & Brazil steamship com-
pany. The negotiations dragged on for a long
time; there were many irregularities, including
most suspicious and persistent efforts on the part
of the company to make the government accept
* Owing to a misprint in the original report to congress,
both this sum and the total are usually quoted half a million
dollars too large.
822
SUFFRAGE.
unsuitable vessels. In the latter part of 1865 a.
conditional contract for ten years was entered into
and finally ratified. (See 39th Cong., 1st Sess.,
Ex. Doc. 121.) — Early in 1865 a contract was made
with the Pacific Mail steamship company for a
monthly mail service to China, in vessels of 3,000
tons, at an annual payment of $500,000. No further
lines were subsidized, in spite of the well-known
report of the Lynch committee in 1870, favoring
an extension of this policy. But in 1872 an addi-
tional subsidy of $500,000 was offered the Pacific
Mail for the establishment of a second service per
month; this time in vessels of 4,000 tons. But the
Pacific Mail was unfortunate in every way. Be-
fore the subsidy contract of 1865 it had been a
Sound and well-managed concern; since that time
it had been the plaything of speculators. It lost
nine vessels in as many years. Foreign shippers
had become dissatisfied with its rates and methods.
The shares had fallen from above par to below 40.
Nor did the supplementary contract bring the ex-
pected relief. It was found impossible to com-
plete the vessels for the new service within the
contract time. As there had been apparently no
lack of intention on the part of the company, the
government hesitated what to do, and seemed dis-
posed to grant the company special favor. But
then came the disclosures as to how the contract
of 1872 had been obtained, the evidence of vast
amounts of money spent for corrupt purposes.
Public sentiment was strongly aroused, as was
evinced by the vote on Mr. Holman's anti-subsidy
resolution. In the face of feeling like this a much
better case than that of the Pacific Mail would
have had no chance of a favorable hearing; and
the decision of the senate judiciary committee that
the subsidy of 1872 had been forfeited by non-ful-
fillment of the contract, was almost a foregone
conclusion. (43d Cong., 2d Sess., Senate Rep.,
268; House Rep., 674.) The subsidy of 1865 ran
On till the middle of 1875. The Brazilian line sub-
sidy expired at about the same time. With that
year ended the second systematic attempt at thus
supporting steamship lines, even more completely
and decisively than the former attempt had ended
in 1858. Since that time there has been more or
less agitation in favor of subsidies, but without
distinct results. Even the Russell committee of
1880, with their obvious leanings in that direction,
did not venture to propose anything specific. An
attempt on the part of the Pennsylvania railroad
company to support a line from Philadelphia to
Liverpool by similar payments, was, after full trial,
finally abandoned. — It is urged by the advocates
of a subsidy system for the United States steam
marine, 1, that we stand almost alone among mar-
itime nations in not doing so; 2, that we lose not
merely the carrying trade, but a large part of our
foreign commerce; 3, that we are left defenseless
in case of war. To this the reply is made, 1,
that the example of England does not really apply
to our own case, while that of France and other
nations can hardly be appealed to as successful;
2, that the loss of our carrying trade and foreign
commerce is due to other causes, and can not be
remedied in this way. The third point is more
difficult to meet directly. There can be no doubt
that England's brilliant success in Egypt, and her
power of waging distant wars elsewhere, are due
to the readiness and efficiency of her transports,
and that this reserve transport service was partly
connected with her system of mail contracts. Nor
is there any doubt that at the beginning of the
rebellion the control of a number of really swift
steamers would have been of inestimable service to
the government. But such a naval reserve is much
more needed for offensive than for defensive war,
the general carrying trade being, in the latter case,
a source of actual weakness. And whether, in the
existing machinery of the United States govern-
ment, and the liabilities to fraud on government.
contracts, such a naval reserve could be secured
by a system of subsidies, is, to say the least, doubt-
ful; whether it would ever be worth the money we
should have to spend upon it, is even more doubt-
ful; not to speak of the possibility of obtaining
the same result on a larger scale, with less cost and
less fraud, by the removal of some of the restric-
tions upon commerce. (For a strong statement
of some of the arguments against subsidies, See
David A. Wells’ “Our Merchant Marine,” chap.
viii. See also, ENCOURAGEMENT OF INDUSTRY
BY THE STATE.) ARTHUR T. HADLEY.
S UB -TREASURY. (See INDEPENDENT
TREASURY.)
SUFFRAGE means a vote or a participation in
government, and, specifically, the privilege of
voting under a representative government, upon
the choice of officers, and upon the adoption or
rejection of fundamental laws. This privilege
has always and everywhere been conditioned, at
least, upon age and sex. Universal suffrage, there-
fore, is an inaccurate though popular description
of manhood suffrage—that of males of full age, and
there is no right of suffrage except in the Sense that
this privilege is created and sanctioned by positive
law. The object of suffrage is the continuity of
government and the preservation and perpetuation
of its benefits. – There are two important theo-
ries regarding the basis of suffrage. 1. That it is
a privilege granted by the state to such persons or
classes as are deemed most likely to use it for the
public weal, a device to secure good government.
whose application must depend upon social Con-
ditions, civil institutions and political aptitudes. .
Most states have acted upon this theory, and, at
different times, conditioned suffrage upon age,
sex, nativity, religious profession, rank, military
service, possession of property, tax payment,
character, intelligence, residence. “While the
action of a state in determining what political
status shall be given to children, women, aliens,
inferior races and others, is necessarily arbitrary
and artificial, and reflects the convictions of the
nation and generation upon the moral claims which
arise from the natural facts that differentiate these
SUFFRAGE.
823
groups of persons and form their relations” to
other groups of persons possessing political power,
no disfranchisement is a violation of institutional
liberty if it only recognizes natural (physical,
mental or moral) inequalities of condition, or of
political justice if civil institutions bear equally
upon all who are in the same political status, or
of equality before the law if due relation is pre-
served between the political rights and duties that
are imposed. 2. That, like life, it is a gift from
nature—a natural right of all persons. This po-
litical dogma of the eighteenth century is a pure
fiction. If this so-called natural right is denied
by a state, it can not be enforced: if it exists, it
must be unconditioned, but few who affirm it
work to secure its enjoyment to females, and none
claim that it can be safely exercised by minors.
The democratic spirit, formulated in the Second
theory, and voiced in the American and French
revolutions, has been a powerful dissolvent of
political privileges justified, in their origin, by the
first theory. In one century it has led to a wide
adoption of manhood suffrage. Statesmen have
sought to direct this movement; demagogues, to
profit by it; fools, to stay it. — Advocates of any
extended suffrage claim: 1, that it gives the state
the greatest practicable security against internal
violence ; 2, that the chances of a wise conduct
of both its internal and external affairs are in-
creased with every addition of individuals or
classes consulted; 3, that each individual and
class best knows its own interests and wants; and
4, that no individual or class can be as safely in-
trusted to protect another's interest as that other
itself. These claims are now being tested by man-
hood suffrage, which is of too recent origin to
yield anything more than material for suspend-
ed judgment. Yet it is undeniable that the first
results of this greatest political experiment of the
century are not unmixed good : it has sometimes,
especially in cities, borne the evils of ignorant
rulers, insecurity of life and property, extrava-
gant and corrupt administration. But good or
evil, no large curtailment of this suffrage is now
possible. The old qualifications are felt to be un-
just: the intellectual and moral development of
man has made a wide bestowal of the suffrage
not only possible but expedient. Any disfran-
chisement, to be successful, must follow closely
the lines of least reasonable resistance, and clearly
tend to lessen the enumerated evils. Within such
lines there are three such qualifications which may
be prescribed by the state with justice, and which
only apply the principle that political rights
should be correlated to political duties. 1. An
educational qualification evidenced by ability to
read and write. “No one,” says Mill, “but those
in whom an a prior theory has silenced com-
mon sense, will maintain that power over others,
over the whole community, should be imparted
to people who have not acquired the commonest
and most essential requisites for taking care of
themselves—for pursuing intelligently their own
interests, and those of the persons most nearly
allied to them.” Intelligence is not an infallible
test of political wisdom, but it is essential to the
safe conduct of government; and if it is an ad-
mitted evil to withhold the suffrage from any per-
son, the prevention of greater evil demands its
denial to the illiterate. So low an educational test
can not, with present private and public aid for
elementary instruction, long bar any one from the
electorate who would strengthen the state. 2. An
economic qualification evidenced by maintenance
without municipal aid, and the payment of a poll
tax. In politics, as elsewhere, only that which
costs is valued. The industrial virtues imply self-
denial, which prepares their possessors to wield
political power; but pauperism raises a presump-
tion of unfitness to share in political power. The
person who can not support himself has no moral
claim to rule one who can. The payment of one
direct tax is a political object-lesson, useful to all,
and imperatively needed by those who pay no
other tax and occasion the greater part of all po-
lice expenditure. In cities an additional qualifi-
cation—the payment of such taxes or rent as give
a substantial interest in the economical administra-
tion of the municipality—should be imposed upon
the electors of the local body which makes mu-
nicipal appropriations and lays municipal taxes.
Its necessity is fully set forth in the report of the
commission appointed in the state of New York,
in 1876, to devise a plan for the government of
cities. (See CITIES.) “Non-taxpayers,” says
Mill, “have every motive to be lavish, and none
to economize. As far as money matters are con-
cerned, any power of voting possessed by them
is a violation of the fundamental principles of
free government, a severance of the power of con-
trol from the interest in its beneficial exercise.”
3. A moral qualification evidenced by habitual
obedience to the positive law of the state. Such
obedience, practically, is the interpretation given
by the courts to the phrase “good moral charac-
ter.” Theoretically the wisdom of thus restrict-
ing the suffrage has long been admitted. One of
the present state constitutions mentions “good
moral character” as one of the conditions to citi-
zenship ; the United States statutes require an
alien applying for naturalization to “make it ap-
pear to the satisfaction of the court admitting such
alien, “ ” that during that term (five years) he
has behaved as a man of good moral character.”
Practically, the enforcement of these constitutional
and statutory requirements has been impossible,
for the law has never given naturalization courts
and registrars of elections any adequate means
for the determination of the law-abiding character
of applicants for citizenship and registration. —
The political injustice of allowing law-breakers,
inflicting heavy taxes upon law-keepers, to become
and remain voters, that is, law-makers, is equaled
only by its danger, for wherever a bare majority
rule, and the will of law-breakers is allowed legal
expression, the action of the majority and of the
state may be determined by its basest elements.
This danger can be diminished by 1, Laws estab-
824
SUFFRAGE.
lishing a systematic registration of criminals, with
provisions for the publication and exchange of
criminal registers. 2. Laws so extending the use
of disfranchisement as a penalty for crime for
males, that conviction for any felony shall, in
addition to other punishments, entail, &pso facto,
permanent political disability; and that a single
conviction for certain misdemeanors which imply
unfitness to discharge the duties of a voter (as, for
example, illegal voting and petit larceny), or such
repeated convictions for any misdemeanor or dif-
ferent misdemeanors as may by statute law and
judicial construction constitute one an “habitual
misdemeanant,” a “common drunkard,” or a ‘‘re-
peater,” shall, in addition to any other penalties,
be followed by a temporary loss of the suffrage.
3. Laws requiring clerks of criminal courts to re-
port at stated times the names and descriptions of
all persons convicted of disfranchisable crimes to
clerks of naturalization courts and to registrars
of elections, whose duty it shall be to refuse to
such persons citizenship and registration until the
disability is removed. — This policy of punishing
crime politically, if adopted and maintained, would
tend . first, to purify the electoral body by purg-
ing it of its most corrupt and corruptible ele-
ments, and so preserve the national life by limit-
ing its control to law-abiding citizens; second, to
lower taxes by divesting the most wasteful and
least productive members of society of all power,
directly or indirectly, to appropriate the public
moneys, and by Substituting, in many cases, an
inexpensive disability for an expensive confine-
ment; third, to reform occasional offenders, and
to deter the young from criminal acts by appeal-
ing to two of the strongest motives to lawful ac-
tion which operate in a democratic country, viz.,
fear of permanent political inferiority, and hope
of civic honor. — In the American Colonies, 1619–
1789. The original settlers, with unimportant ex-
ceptions, all had a voice in public affairs. The
founders of Virginia and of New England (the
original forces which determined the course of col-
onial development) were mainly Englishmen, ac-
customed to self-government, and in each colony
homogeneity of character, community of interests
and belief, economic conditions, and military ne-
cessities, found expression in equality of political
privileges till the arrival of men of other blood
and religion, of “indented servants,” “redemp-
tioners,” transported felons, and negroes, intro-
duced social inequalities. From that time elec-
toral qualifications varied greatly, and often in
different colonies, the most constant tests being
religious profession and possession of property.
The influx of immigrants of different religions
soon compelled the abolition of the former test,
and the economic conditions of the country, tend-
ing powerfully to equality of condition, early in
the colonial period produced a movement which
has been “constant though not steady, and is not
yet spent, toward absolute equality of political
rights and privileges.” The first legislative body
that ever sat in America (at Jamestown, July 30,
1619) was elected by all the male inhabitants.
Notwithstanding some fluctuation, both before
and after, the Virginia colony, from 1670, re-
stricted the suffrage to “freeholders and house-
keepers,” the reason stated being that the “usual
way of choosing burgesses by the votes of all per-
Sons who, having served their time, are freemen of
this country,” produced tumults at the election,
and that it would be better to follow the English
fashion and “grant a voyce in such election only
to such as by their estates, real or personal, have
interest enough to tye them to the endeavor of
the publique good.” The first legislative body in
New England (at Plymouth, 1620,) was composed
of all the male inhabitants, and this township
type and school of government was adopted in
other New England settlements. It was ordered,
May 18, 1631, before there was a representative
body in Massachusetts, “that no man should be
admitted to this body politic but such as are mem-
bers of some of the churches within the limits of
the same.” This was not repealed until Aug. 3,
1664. It excluded for thirty years three-fourths
of the male inhabitants from the ballot box; and
a parallel law is found only in New Haven col-
ony, where, June 4, 1639, a fundamental agree-
ment was adopted providing ‘‘ that church mem-
bers only shall be free burgesses, and they only
shall choose among themselves magistrates and
officers to have the power of transacting all public
civil affairs of this plantation.” The first repre-
sentative court in Massachusetts, in 1634, ordered
“that none but freemen should have any vote in
any town.” The Massachusetts charter of 1691
restricted suffrage to the possessors of an estate
of freehold in land to the value of 40s. per an-
num, or other estate to the value of £40. At the
beginning of the eighteenth century a freehold
test had become common in the colonies, though
all attempts (see Locke’s “ Fundamental Consti-
tutions of Carolina,” 1669,) to limit political power
to hereditary wealth had failed. In some colo-
nies, laws imposed penalties on absentees from
town meetings or elections, a survival of which
appears in the constitution (article xii.) of Geor-
gia, in force 1777–89. From 1700 to 1776, inclu-
sive, no change occurred in the social condition of
the colonies necessitating any radical change in
the suffrage, except that parliament, in 1746, sub-
stituted for the various naturalization acts which
their need of immigrant laborers had induced sev-
eral colonies to pass before the close of the pre-
ceding century, a uniform system of naturaliza-
tion, on the basis of seven years’ residence, an
oath of allegiance, and profession of the “Prot-
estant Christian faith.” Independence brought
about some extension of the suffrage, but, though
the demonstrated capacity for self-government of
the colonists led to a declaration of the right of
self-government in all classes of mankind, the
principle was not consistently followed by revo-
lutionary statesmen. “They extended it just so
far as the conditions of the time and place at once
necessitated and made Safe; and sought to shun
SUFFRAGE.
825
two opposite dangers: danger to the government
from the supremacy of any class, and danger to
the government by the exclusion of any class
which might have sufficient unity, self-conscious
power and independent interest to attempt the
same kind of revolution which the colonists had
themselves sanctioned.” The last survival of the
test of religious profession appears in the consti-
tution of South Carolina (article xiii.) in force
1778–90, which limited suffrage to “every free
white man who acknowledges the being of a God,
and believes in a future state of rewards and pun-
ishments.”— When the federal constitution was
adopted, each state was left by its constitution, or
by its charter from the crown (under which two
states, Rhode Island and Connecticut, continued
to act), to prescribe for itself who should have the
privilege of voting. No state then granted that
privilege to all of its citizens. It was limited to
the following classes of persons: in New Hamp-
shire, “every male inhabitant of each town and
parish with town privileges, and places unincor-
porated in the state, of twenty-one years of age
and upward, excepting paupers and persons ex-
cused from paying taxes at their request’”; in Mas-
sachusetts, “every male inhabitant of twenty-one
years of age and upward, having a freehold estate
within the commonwealth of the annual income
of three pounds, or any estate of the value of
sixty pounds”; in Rhode Island, “such as are ad-
mitted free of the company and society,” freehold-
ers of estate of the value of $134, and the eldest
sons of such freeholders; in Connecticut, such per-
sons as had “maturity in years, quiet and peace-
able behavior, a civil conversation, and forty shil-
lings freehold or forty pounds personal estate,”
if so certified by the selectmen; in New York,
“every male inhabitant of full age who shall have
personally resided within one of the counties of
the state for six months immediately preceding the
day of election, if during the time aforesaid he
shall have been a freeholder, possessing a freehold
of the value of twenty pounds within the county,
or have rented a tenement therein of the yearly
value of forty shillings, and been rated and act-
ually paid taxes to the state ”; in New Jersey,
“all inhabitants of full age, who are worth fifty
pounds, proclamation money, clear estate in the
same, and have resided in the county in which
they claim a vote for twelve months immediately
preceding the election”; in Pennsylvania, “every
freeman of the age of twenty-one years, having
resided in the state two years next before the elec-
tion, and within that time paid a state or county
tax which shall have been assessed at least six
months before the election ”; in Delaware ‘‘as ex-
ercised by law at present,” all resident tax-paying
freemen; in Virginia, “as exercised by law at
present,” persons having a freehold estate of one
hundred acres of unimproved land, or twenty-
five acres of improved land, or a house and lot in
a town; in Maryland, “all freemen above twenty-
One years of age, having a freehold of fifty acres
of land in the county in which they offer to vote,
and residing therein, and all freemen having prop-
erty in the state above the value of thirty pounds
current money, and having resided in the county
in which they offer to vote one whole year next
preceding the election"; in North Carolina, for
Senators, “all freemen of the age of twenty-one
years who have been inhabitants of any one
county within the state twelve months imme-
diately preceding the day of election, and pos-
sessed of a freehold within the same county of
fifty acres of land for six months next before and
at the day of election,” and for members of the
house of commons, “all freemen of the age of
twenty-one years who have been inhabitants of
any one county within the state twelve months
immediately preceding the day of any election,
and shall have paid public taxes”; in South Car.
olina, “every free white man of the age of twenty-
one years, being a citizen of the state, and having
resided therein two years previous to the day of
election, and who hath a freehold of fifty acres
of land, or a town lot of which he hath been le-
gally seized and possessed at least six months
before such election, or (not having such freehold
or town lot), hath been a resident within the elec-
tion district in which he offers to give his vote six
months before said election, and hath paid a tax
the preceding year of three shillings sterling to-
ward the support of the government”; and in
Georgia such “citizens and inhabitants of the
state as shall have attained to the age of twenty-
one years, and shall have paid tax for the year
next preceding the election, and shall have resided
six months within the county.”— In the United
States, 1789–1884. During this period freehold
franchise has given way to manhood suffrage.
The French revolution, intensifying the demo-
cratic spirit till Americans abhorred all political
privileges as British badges; the transfer of polit-
ical leadership from conservative statesmen of
long experience to radical politicians echoing the
French dogma of political equality; the vast ex-
pansion of territory, with the settlement of new
states bidding against each other with political
franchises for immigrants; the growth of popula-
tion, with the rise of large cities inhabited by
many uninterested in the soil; the anti-slavery
agitation, spreading the doctrine of the “rights of
man”; the gradual popular recognition that the
principles of the declaration of independence had
not been logically applied; the private interest
of demagogues, and the fierce competition of par-
ties careful for the next election if neglectful of
the next generation; and, finally, the alleged ne-
cessity imposed by a war, one of whose incidents
was the emancipation of a race—are some of the
causes which have united to produce the existing
electoral franchise. Eleven of the thirteen orig-
inal states have abolished the tax and property
tests, as follows: New Hampshire, the tax test in
1792; Georgia, the property test in 1798; Mary-
land, the property test in 1801 and 1809; Massa-
chusetts, the property test in 1821; New York, the
property test in 1821, and the tax test in 1826;
826
SUFFFAGE.
Delaware, the property test in 1831; New Jersey,
the property test in 1844; Connecticut, the prop-
erty test in 1845; South Carolina, the property
test in 1865; North Carolina, the property test in
1854 and 1868; Virginia, the property test in 1850,
and the tax test, established in 1864, in 1882. The
only new states which have required a property or
even a tax qualification, are the following: Tennes-
see, admitted in 1796 with a freehold qualification,
abolished it in 1834; Ohio, admitted in 1802 with
a tax qualification, abolished it in 1851; Louisiana,
admitted in 1812 with a tax qualification, abolished
it in 1845; Mississippi, admitted in 1817 with a
militia or tax qualification, abolished it in 1832.
Long before they disappeared, tax and property
tests had become forms. Parties or candidates
paid the taxes of unqualified citizens whose votes
were needed and could thereby be had, or con-
veyed land to them before election, which was
deeded back aftör election. Thus, by degrees, all
native-born white males of age were allowed to
vote upon taking the freeman’s oath, after a brief
term of residence in a state or town, and the com-
petition of new states for laborers led to the grad-
ual extension of suffrage to alien declarants, who
now have it in thirteen states. After the rise of
the American party, Massachusetts, during 1859–
63, denied the suffrage to aliens, unless “they
shall have resided within the jurisdiction of the
|United States two years subsequent to naturaliza-
tion, and shall be otherwise qualified.” Free
black males of age, who could vote in some slave
states, as Tennessee (Const. of 1834), were dis-
franchised in some free states, as Connecticut
(Const. of 1818). — In the southern states political
power was held exclusively by the property-
owning and educated classes till the close of the
rebellion. When slavery was abolished by the
13th amendment (see Const. III., Amendments) in
1865, the dominant party in congress apparently
had no intention of interfering with the control
of the suffrage in the states. But the inadequate
protection given the negro in the southern states,
and the unwillingness of the northern states that
his freedom should increase the political power of
those lately in rebellion, led to the adoption of
the 14th amendment (see Const., III., Amend-
ments) in 1868. This conferred citizenship upon
the negro, guaranteed to him the same rights en-
joyed by white citizens of the United States, and
made it for the interest of the southern states to
voluntarily extend the suffrage to the negro, by
providing that when the right of voting is denied
to any of the male inhabitants of any state, being
twenty-one years of age and citizens of the United
States, or in any way abridged, except for partici-
pation in rebellion or other crime, such state's
representation in congress shall be reduced in the
proportion which the number of such male citi-
zens shall bear to the whole number of male citi-
Zens twenty-one years of age in such state. This
amendment not being promptly ratified when pro-
posed, in 1866 (see Const., III., Amendments),
was followed by the reconstruction act of March
2, 1867 (see RECONSTRUCTION, for temporary po-
litical disabilities), which made it a condition of
the restoration of the seceding states that new
constitutions should be adopted, framed by “del-
egates elected by the male citizens twenty-one
years old and upward, of whatever race, color or
previous condition,” and securing “to all such
persons” the elective franchise, and by the adop-
tion of the 15th amendment, in 1870, which pro-
vides that “the right of citizens of the United
States to vote shall not be denied or abridged
by the United States or by any state on account.
of race, color or previous condition of servi-
tude.” The reasons for this amendment were:
(Cooley's Con. Law, 264, 265; Hunt J., in U. S.
os. Reese, 92 U. S. R., 214, 247): “1. That unless.
the ballot was given to the freedmen, the govern-
ment of the southern states must for a considerable
time be in the hands of those lately in rebellion,
and that the existence in a political community of
a great body of citizens against whom the laws
discriminate in a particular which makes the dis-
crimination a stigma and a disgrace, must always
be an occasion of discontent, disorder and danger.
2. That it would benefit the colored race by giv-
ing them importance, securing to them respect,
protecting them against unfriendly action or leg-
islation, and by acting as an educational process.”
This enfranchisement of the negro is the last of a
series of extensions of the suffrage which began
in the colonial period, and have ended by nomi-
nally conferring political supremacy in Some states
upon those whose former status as slaves leaves
them illiterates and non-taxpayers, unhabituated
to the obedience of law. — The existing condi-
tions of the suffrage in the United States are now
the following: The constitution of the United
States confers the right to vote upon no one.
That right is not a “privilege or immunity” of
citizens of the United States: when they possess.
it at all, even for electing representatives and
presidential electors—the only federal officers.
chosen by popular vote—it is created by state
constitutions and state laws. (Const. of U. S., Art.
I., Sec. 2; Art. II., Sec. 1.) The fifteenth amend-
ment to the constitution does not confer the right
of suffrage upon any one, but it invests citizens
of the United States with the right of exemption.
from discrimination in the exercise of the elective
franchise, on account of their race, color or pre-
vious condition of servitude, and empowers con-
gress to enforce that right by appropriate legisla-
tion. The power of the states to exclude from
the franchise upon other grounds, including those
of nativity, sex, illiteracy and non-payment of
taxes, remains intact. The power of Congress to
legislate at all upon the subject of voting at state
elections rests upon this amendment, and can be
exercised by providing a punishment only when
the wrongful refusal to receive the vote of the
qualified elector at such elections is because of his
race, color or previous condition of Servitude.
The third and fourth sections of the act of May
31, 1870 (16 Stat., 140), not being confined in their
SUFFRAGE,
827
operations to the above-described unlawful dis-
crimination, are beyond the limit of the 15th
amendment, and unauthorized. (U. S. vs. Reese,
92 U. S., 214.) Qualifications of electors are de-
fined in the several state constitutions, and no
additional qualifications can be required by the
state legislature, but the legislature may prescribe
by law “such conditions to the exercise of the
elective franchise as shall seem reasonable to pro-
tect the privilege, and to prevent impositions and
Other frauds, and also all proper regulations for
receiving and canvassing votes.” (Cooley's Con.
Law, 252.) The qualifications prescribed by exist-
ing state constitutions are shown in the table on
pages 828,829.- Some constitutions require regis-
tration ; some disfranchise any persons while un-
der guardianship; some, any person while kept in
any poor-house or other asylum at public expense,
Or while confined in any public prison; some, any
person stationed in any state while in the military,
naval or marine service of the United States; some,
idiots or insane persons, but these persons, with-
out express mention, are excluded from voting, as
incapable of exercising legal volition. The edu-
cational test shown in the table was established
in Connecticut in 1855, in Massachusetts in 1857,
in Missouri in 1876. The constitutions of Ala-
bama and Mississippi forbid the imposition of
such a test. That of Florida allows it after 1880;
that of Colorado, after 1890. The economic test
shown is at least the prepayment of some tax,
in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania,
Delaware, Tennessee and Georgia. The constitu-
tions of Alabama, Arkansas, California and Mis-
sissippi, expressly forbid a property test, and the
constitution of Arkansas also expressly forbids a
poll-tax test; that of Nevada allows it. Paupers
are expressly disfranchised in Maine, Massachu-
setts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, Rhode Island,
South Carolina, Texas and West Virginia. A
moral test exists in all the states except four
(Colorado, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and
West Virginia), but if satisfactory proof of the
reformation of the offender is given, the constitu.
tions of ten states (Connecticut, Florida, Kansas,
Minnesota, Nebraska, Nevada, North Carolina,
New Jersey, Rhode Island and Wisconsin) ex-
pressly permit restoration to the suffrage; some of
them by a two-thirds vote of the legislature, others
by a majority vote.—The table on page 831 shows
the Offenses for which states disfranchise for crime
by the express terms of their constitutions, or for
which their legislatures may make disfranchise-
ment a penalty. It shows that conviction of the
offenses enumerated, does or may disfranchise,
specifically as follows: of bribery, in twenty-three
states; of felony, in sixteen states; of infamous
crime, in sixteen states; of treason, in eleven states;
of dueling, in eleven states; of perjury, in ten
states; of forgery, in seven states; of larceny, in
seven states; of embezzlement of public funds, or
fraud, in seven states; of election misdemeanors, in
six states; of other high crimes or malfeasance in
office, in six states; of murder, in two states; of
robbery, in two states. Conviction of some of the
enumerated crimes also disqualifies for jury serv-
ice in some of the states, while permanent ineligi-
bility to office is the sole political disability that is
inflicted upon those guilty of bribery or of duel-
ing in other states. Three states (Nebraska, Neva-
da and Wisconsin) admit the principle of the ex-
territoriality of crime in their constitutional pro-
visions for disfranchisement. — Territories. The
ordinance of 1787, for the government of the
northwest territory, provided that “so soon as
there shall be 5,000 free male inhabitants of full
age in the district, they shall receive authority
to elect representatives to a general assembly:
provided, also, that a freehold in fifty acres of
land in the district, having been a citizen of one
of the states, and being resident in the district,
or the like freehold, and two years’ residence in
the district, shall be necessary to qualify a man
as an elector of a representative.” The constitu-
tion having given congress power to make all
needful rules and regulations respecting the terri-
tory belonging to the United States, two forms
of territorial government have from time to time
been established : 1, by an executive and judges
of federal appointment, who together constitute
a legislature; 2, by an executive and judges of
federal appointment, and a legislature composed
of representatives chosen by the people of the ter-
ritory. In the second form of government, the
basis of Suffrage has been substantially uniform,
being limited commonly, as it now is by law in
the first election in a territory, to “every male cit-
izen above the age of twenty-one years, including
persons who have legally declared their intention
to become citizens in any territory hereafter or-
ganized, and who are actually residents of such
territory at the time of the organization thereof.”
At Subsequent elections the qualifications of voters
may be prescribed by the legislative assembly of
each territory, provided that the right of voting
shall be exercised only by citizens of the United
States above the age of twenty-one years, and by
alien declarants above that age, who have taken
the required oath; that it be not denied to a citi-
Zen on account of race, color or previous condi-
tion of servitude; and that no person in the army
or navy, or attached to troops in the service of the
United States, shall be allowed to vote by reason
of being on service in the territory, unless it has
been for six months his permanent domicile. —
District of Columbia. The government of this
district, over which congress has the power of ex-
clusive legislation, was originally vested in a board
of three commissioners under the act of July 16,
1790. This board was abolished by act of May
1, 1802, and the city of Washington was incor-
porated by act of May 3, 1802, which provided
that its council should be elective “by the free
white male inhabitants of full age who have re-
sided twelve months in the city, and paid taxes
therein the year preceding.” An act of May 15,
1820, provided that both the mayor and the council
should be elective by “every free white male citi-
Description of Person. Residence.
STATES. s Age Taxes. Education Character
Declarant of inten- & ſº º s * e
Citizen. i. §e: State. County. º,
Alabama -------- Every male citizen of U. S. Declarant.” 1 year.b | 3 months. 30 days. * !------------------------|------------------------------------------
Arkansas-------- Every male citizen of U. S. Declarant. 12 mos. 6 months. 1 month. * !------------------------------------------------------------------
r ſ Every native male and ) .
every º *: |
fe e citizen . S. Wil(O -
California ------- shall hºw: become ſ -------------------- 1 year. 90 days. 30 days. * !------------------------------------------------|------------------
| such 90 º, prior * -
U any election. ſºlº ſ" Such time as ) ſ “Such time as
Colorado -------- Every male e citizen of U.S. months before || 6 mos. †† P; ; :...” *i; }|*|------------------------|--tº-º-º: * = * = * * * | * * * * * * * * * * * * * = * * * *
º, Offers to t law.” y i. * 3 y - ſ Who º be #. § Y •
& : * Ote. e * - read any article O
Connecticut ----- Every male citizen of U. S.-------------------- 1 year. -------------------- 6 months. * !------------------------ | the ºft. Gºoral Char-
| Who has, º22 #: | Or º of stat- I’.
Or upward, pald a utes Of the State.
4 & 6 & COUID tax as-
T)elaware.-------- Every male citizen. -------------------- 1 year. 1 month l-------------------- 21 ! sessed 6 months } * * * * * * * * * * as * * = &º as tº me s sº me sº is sº I as as a me • * * * * * is sº gº as sº sº sº, sº
| previous to *
t tion.j -
Florida.---------- Every male citizen of U. S. Declarant. 1 year. 6 months. 1.-------------------- 21 |------------------------|------------------------|------------------
tº . - Who has paid all
Georgia --------- } Fº bº | T)eclarant. 6 mos. |80 days. |-------------------- 2. } º:º year pre- | * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * sº tº tº sº tºº sm º ºs I sº as amº m sº sº, sº am sm as ºr ºr sº a m = sº sº.
Illinois ---------- Every male citizen of U. S. ...------------------- 1 year. 90 days. 30 days. 21 ----------------------|----------------------------------------
ſIDeclarant who -
* g º ! shall have re- In township 60
Indiana --------- Every male citizen of U. S. sided in U. S. 6 mos. -------------------- days. In Ward Fl 31 l------------------------|------------------------|------------------
1 year, and 30 days.
. U state 6 mos. J
Iowa ------------| Every male citizen of U. S.--------------------. 6 mos. | 60 days. |-------------------- 81 ------------------------|------------------------|------------------
Kansas --------- Every male citizen of U. S. Declarant. 6 mos. -------------------- 30 days. 81 l------------------------|------------------------------------------
Kentucky ------- Every male citizen. . . ]-------------------- 2 years. 1 year.f 60 days. * !------------------------|------------------------|------------------
Every male citizen of
Louisiana ------- U. i. born or natural X-1-------------------- 1 year. Parish 6 months. 30 days. 81 ------------------------|------------------------|------------------
IZCC1. -
Maine.----------- Every male citizen of J. S.-------------------- 8 mos. --------------------|-------------------- 21 |ſ Who shall have paid ) -
Maryland.-------- Every male citizen of U. S.-------------------- 1 year. 6 months. -------------------- 21 * * any state or ||ſ Who shall be able to Y
& 9 º' - - county tax within || || read the constitu-
Massachusetts ---| Every male citizen. -------------------- 1 year. -------------------- 6 months. 21 |{ 2 years preceding #|{ tion in the Eng-}|------------------
is a tº . | election, assesse | lish language and
Every male citizen and | upon him in any || U write his name. J
.# *: º: U town or district. J
s Tº ge t * SCé - -
Michigan -------- .*.*.*.*.*śā H-------------------. 8 mos. -------------------- 10 days. 81 l------------------------|------------------------|------------------
not a member of any &
tribe. * * * *
Every male g citizen of
| U. à". º 1. Pºiº who] -
* - - - - - - . - Inixed Wºllte 81101 liſle- SIlālī IlāWe I’9- º
Minnesota.------ | dian blood,h or of In- j ñºſ. 5. 4 mos. -------------------- 10 days. 81 ----------------------. - *| * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * - I - ~ * * * * * * * * = = = * * * = =
dian blood described 1 year. :
U in note.i J
§
i

i
} All male inhabitants #!
TJ. S., or naturalized.
Every male citizen of U. S.
Every male citizen of U. S.
dº sº tº º sº º ºs º gº tº sº º Every male citizen of U. S.
Oregon ---------- Every male citizen of U. S.
& Every male citizen of
Pennsylvania ---- } U.S. for One month. }
Vermont
Virginia.------
West Virginia ---
Wisconsin.---
ſ
Every male citizen of U. S.
Every male citizen of U. S.
Every male native or
} naturalized citizen of
TJ. S.
Every male citizen of U. S.
Male citizens of the state.
ſ Every male citizen of
U. S., and persons of
| Indian blood described
U in note.l
ſ Declarant not
{ less than 1
year nor more
than 5 j
Declarant.
year previous
} Declarant d for 1 |
to election.
ams ºs º ºs sº º ºs ºne ºs s as ºs º ºs tº tº ºme mº me *
as as as sº sº as as as me * sº ºn 8 º' s = * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *s tº tº º ºs gº dº º ſº * *
Declarant.
1 year. .
1 year.
1 year.
1 year.
12 mos.
1 year.
1 year.
1 month.
60 days.
| Term provided U
\ by law. |
4 months.
90 days.
“Such time as |
* may be pro-
! vided by law.” )
-- tº- tº º ºx! - º ºs º 'º º º ºs = º e º sº m 'm
* * * * * * * * * * * * * = * * * * * *
6 months.
3 months.
60 days.
* tº s tº sº gº as sº sm º ºs ºº is tº as sº * * *m *
60 days.
{ Term provided }
by law.
30 days.
* * * * = * m me •º es ame tº º sº sº sº gº º sº *
“Such time as
may be pro-
vided by law.”
2 molths.
6 months.
New Jersey
New York----
North Carolina -- Y
as sº me as ºm sº * *
New fiampshire.
* * *
this state, citizens of
Every male citizen of U. S.
Every male inhabitant.
Every male citizen of U. S.
Every male citizen who
shall have been a citi-
zen for 10 days.
| Every male person born }
or naturalized in U. S.
Rhode Island---
South Carolina --
Tennessee ----
t
Every male citizen of U. S.
Every male citizen of TJ. S.
Every male native citizen. -
2 years.
1 year.
12 mos.
5 months.
6 months.
6 months.
- as sº º ºs e º m s m a tº gº tº me tº as * * *s
• * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * as sº s =
21
21
21
21
21
21
21
21
21
21
21
21
21
| 21
21
21
* - * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * *s as s as m = sºr ºs ºs is sº sº mº me as as “
* * * * * * * * * * * * * = m = ºne as sº * * * * *
Who j shall have)
paid within 2
years a state or
county tax as-
sessed 2 months,
and paid 1 month
before election.
Who k has , , paid)
taxes within a |
year amounting to
$1, or done mili-
tary service, J
ſ “Who has paid the
poll taxes assessed
against him for
such preceding -
period as the leg- |
islature may pre-
Scribe.”
(See notes to this table on page 8
read and Write.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * sº s = s. sº gº ºr s = s. as
* * * * * * * * * * * * = as as a was as * * = * * =
* * *- - * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * me use ºs s sº sº mº m as me sº me as sm am * *
se = s = * * * * * * * * * * * * = = * * * * * *
* sº * * * * * * tº sº, º ºs mºm amº es ess as s sº s sº me, s as
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * = ** = *
Property.
} Who shall be able * -
sº sº sº * = -s ºs s º ºs ºs º ºse sº eas s as ºn
* * * * * * * * * *s, * * * * *s as as sº
ſIn his own right
possessed of real
estate of the clear
value of $134, or ).
which shall rent
for $7 per #
clear.
Militia, Service.
or has been enrolled )
and done military |
service 1 year, or ;
paid taxes within
1 year of $1. |
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
• * * * sº s is ºs s tº m sº es us sº as sº as
* * * * * * * * * * = m sº em tº as sº s
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* who is of quiet
and peaceable
behavior.”
sº º sº tº as * * * * * *s as ºs º ºse sº s sº
830
SUFFRAGE.
zen of the United States of lawful age, who shall
have resided in the city for one year next pre-
ceding the day of election, and shall be a resident
of the ward in which he shall offer to vote, and
who shall have been assessed for the year ending
on the 31st day of December next preceding the
day of election, and who shall have paid all taxes
legally assessed and due on personal property,
when legally required to pay the same.” The act
of May 17, 1848, re-enacted this qualification, with
the addition that it apply to persons assessed “as
subject to a school tax for that year (except per-
Sons non compos mentis, vagrants, paupers Or per-
sons who have been convicted of any infamous
crime), and who shall have paid the school tax
and all taxes on personal property due from him.”
An act of March 4, 1855, for the codification of
the laws of the District of Columbia, provided for
the submission of the proposed code to the votes
of “every free white male citizen of the United
States above the age of twenty-one years, who has
resided in said district for one year next preceding
such election.” The act of Jan. 8, 1867, extended
Notes to Table on pp. 828, 829.
The adjective “white” before “male " in some constitu-
tions, adopted before the 15th amendment, is here omitted.
a Declarant means a male person of foreign birth, who shall
have declared his intention to become a citizen of the United
States, conformably to the naturalization laws of the United
States.
b “Immediately preceding the election at which he offers
to vote.”
c “The general assembly may prescribe a longer or shorter
residence in any precinct or county, or in any ward in any
city or town having a population of more than 5,000 inhab-
itants, but in no case to exceed three months.” (Const.,
Art. VIII., Sec. 1.)
d “Provided no native of China shall ever exercise the
privileges of an elector.”
e ‘‘ Provided that no person shall be denied the right to
vote at any school district election, or to hold any school
district office, on account of sex.” (Const., Art. VII., Sec.
1.) And “The general assembly may enact laws to extend
the right of suffrage to women of lawful age, and otherwise
qualified. No such enactment shall be of effect until sub-
mitted to the vote of the qualified electors at a general elec-
tion, nor unless the same be approved by a majority of those
voting thereon.” (Idem, Sec. 2.)
f “In the county, town or city in which he offers to
vote.” -
g “The legislature may provide by law that any woman
of the age of twenty-one years and upward may vote at any
election held for the purpose of choosing any officers of
Schools, or upon any measure relating to schools, and may
also provide that any such woman shall be eligible to hold
any office pertaining solely to the management of such
schools.” (Const., Art. VII., Sec. 8.)
h “Who have adopted the customs and habits of civiliza-
tion.”
i “Persons of Indian blood residing in the state, who
have adopted the language, customs and habits of civiliza-
tion, and shall have been pronounced (by any district court of
the state) capable of enjoying the rights of citizenship.”
j “If twenty-two years of age or upward.”
k “ Provided, that no person shall at any time be allowed
to vote in the election of the city council of the city of Prov-
idence, or upon any proposition to impose a tax, or for the
expenditure of money in any town or city, unless he shall,
within the year next preceding, have paid a tax assessed upon
his property therein, valued at least at $134.”
1 “Who have once been declared by law of congress to
be citizens of the United States, and civilized persons of In-
dian descent, not members of any tribe.”
the suffrage in the District of Columbia to “every
male person, except paupers and persons under
guardianship of the age of twenty-one years and
upward, who has not been convicted of any infa-
mous crime, and excepting persons who have vol-
untarily given aid and comfort to the rebels in the
late rebellion, and who shall have been born or
naturalized in the United States, and who shall
have resided in this district for one year, and three
months in the ward in which he shall offer to vote,
without distinction on account of race or color.”
The act of Feb. 21, 1871, created a legislative as-
sembly for the District of Columbia, consisting of
a council and house of delegates, to be elected by
“all male citizens of the United States above the
age of twenty-one years, except such as are non
compos mentis, and persons convicted of infamous
crimes, who have been actual residents of the dis-
trict for twelve months prior to any election there-
in, and of the election district or precinct in which
they shall respectively reside, for thirty days imme-
diately preceding such election.” This act applied
a severe test to the political theories of the advo-
cates of unrestricted suffrage. The white popu.
lation of the district always contains a large mo-
bile element which has no large interest in its
weal; almost the whole black population was ig-
norant, and without political responsibility. From
1860 to 1870 the white population had increased
from 60,763 to 88,278, and the black population
from 14,316 in 1860, to 43,404 in 1870. Under
these conditions unrestricted suffrage produced
extravagance, corruption and other incidents of
bad government. Congress was petitioned for
relief, and by the act of June 11, 1878, represent-
ative government was abolished, a population of
177,000 left without a voter, and the government
vested, as originally under the act of July 16,
1790, in a board of commissioners. — WOMAN
SUFFRAGE. The political dogma of the eighteenth
century, that suffrage is a natural right, led to an
early demand for its extension to woman. Con-
dorcet published July 3, 1790, in Journal de la
Societé de 1789, a plea for citizenship of women.
The constitution of New Jersey, framed in 1776,
permitted all inhabitants of certain qualifications
to vote, and an act to regulate elections under it,
passed in 1793, provided that “every voter shall,
openly, and in full view, deposit his or her ballot,
which shall be a single written ticket containing
the names of the persons for whom he or she
votes.” This act was repealed in 1807. Agitation
against slavery in the United States gave promi-
nence to the dogma of “natural rights,” and small
groups of persons before the close of the first half
century demanded its universal application. The
first woman’s rights convention was held at Seneca
Falls, N. Y., July 19, 1848. It based the claims
of woman on the declaration of independence,
and demanded equal rights. The first national
woman's rights convention was held at Worcester,
Mass., Oct. 23, 1850. The attention of the En-
glish people was called to the subject of woman
suffrage by an article in the “Westminster Re-
i
STATES. Treason. | Felony. Bribery. Perjury. Forgery. Dueling. #. Electoral Misdemeanors. Infamous Crimes. | Larceny. Other Offenses.
~ I’all Cie
Alabama--------- Treason. Felony.” | Bribery. -----------|------------|---------- } Fº Of } * - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Larceny. | Malfeasance in office.
Arkansas --------|------- ----| Felony. -----------|----------------------------------ſEmbezzlemºntor rº- * * * * * * * * * * * * * * e sº as sº as as * * * * * * * * * * * ~~~~ tº gº ºs = sº s ºs º ºs º gº
California--------|-----------|---------- Bribery.* | Perjury.* | Forgery.* | Dueling. i #.” º; H---------------------- Infamous crimes.b ----------- } *::::::::: º: OF
d moneys. | f
Colorado--------------------|----------|-----------|-----------|------------|-----------------------------|------------------------|--------------------|-----------|---------------------------
- *
Connecticut------|-----------|---------- Bribery. | Perjury. | Forgery. Dueling } Fº bank- } * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * = sº as º gº º º Infamous crimes." | Larceny." |---------------------------
Delaware d-----. * * * * * * * * * * * * * Felony. -----------|-----------|------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------|--------------------|-----------|---------------------------
Florida ----------|----------- Felony. Bribery. | Perjury. |------------ Dueling. ºfmbezzlem ... . . . Election wager. Infamous crimes. | Larceny. ---------------------------
Georgia --------- Treason. Felony. Bribery. -----------|------------ Dueling. { º; "k-----------------~~~~~~|~~~~ Malfeasance in office.
Illinois.----------|---------------------|-----------|-----------|------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------ Infamous crimes. -----------|---------------------------
Indiana ---------|-----------|----------|-----------|-----------|------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------ Infamous crimes. I-----------|---------------------------
OWà-------------|-----------|---------- - - - - - - - - - - I - - - - * * * * ~ * ~ : - - - - - - - - - - - - 1 = * * * = - - - - - 1 - - - - - - - - - - :------ -- I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Infamous crimes. I-----------|---------------------------
| Defrauding Unit-
Kansas *--------- Treason. | Felony. Bribery. -----------|------------|---------- º: sº me * se sº as sº sº sº sº sº, sº as ºn m = as tº s = * * = | * * * * * * * * * * = * * = s. m. sº as as sº i = * * * * * * * * * * | * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * = * * * * * * * *
- i thereof. Otherhi g e ‘
e * r high crimes or mis-
Kentucky--------|-----------|---------- Bribery. | Perjury. |Forgery. ----------|-------------------|------------------------|--------------------|----------- } demeanors.
Louisiana t------ Treason. Felony.a #: Perjury. |Forgery. ----------|-------------------|------------------------|--------------------|-----------|---------------------------
Maine -----------|-----------|---------- ribery.* -----------|------------|----------|-------------------|-------------- ------------------------------|-----------|---------------------------
Maryland--------|-----------|---------- Bribery.9 |-----------|------------|----------|------------------- Illegal voting.g Infamous crimes. Larceny. ---------------------------
Massachusetts ---|-----------|----------|-----------|-----------|------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------|--------------------|-----------|---------------------------
Michigan --------|----------|----------|-----------|-----------|------------ Dueling. -------------------|------------------------|--------------------|-----------|---------------------------
Minnesota. ------- Treason. | Felony. Bribery. | Perjury. ------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------ Infamous crimes. |----------- 7 other high crimes and
gº tº e ºs gº ºf . * e * er high crimes an
Mississippi * * * * * * : * * * * * * * * = sº s : * * * * * as se as s sºs Bribery. | Perjury. | Forgery. Dueling.g-------------------|------------------------ Infamous crimes. 1.----------- } misdemeanors.
Missouri ---------|----------- Felony. -----------|-----------|------------|----------|------------------- Election misdemeanors. Infamous Crimes. -----------|---------------------------
Nebraska --------| Treason. Felony." -----------|-----------|------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------|--------------------|-----------|---------------------------
Embezzlem’nt or
Nevada.---------- Treason. Felony. Bribery.j ||-----------|------------ Dueling } defalcation of X----------------------|--------------------|-----------|---------------------------
. New H hi - public funds.j
€W Hampshire.--|-----------|----------|-----------|----------- * - * * * * * * * * * * | * * - - - - - - - - ) - - - - * * * - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- ſ Subornation of perjury,
º blasphemy, piracy, ar-
New Jersey ------ Treason.k ---------- Bribery. |Perjury.* | Forgery.* !----------|-------------------|------------------------|-------------------- Larceny. ; rape, sodomy,
polygamy, conspiracy
g • * . murder, {? robbery.” 2
New York -------|-----------|----- .* = * * * Bribery. -----------|------------|----------|------------------- Election wager.1 Infamous crimes. -----------|---------------------------
North Carolina---|----------- Felony. -----------|-----------|------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------ Infamous crimes. -----------|---------------------------
§º. - - - - - - - - I - - - - - - - - - - - -Felony." Bribery. | Perjury. ------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------ Infamous crimes. -----------|---------------------------
regon ----------|----------- €10DV -----------|-----------|------------|----------|-------------------|---- --------------------|-------------------- sº º e = ** = sº sº se - || * = as ss is as as sº ºn s = * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
- & & 1. Willful violatºn of the
Pennsylvania sm, sº sº sº tº sº se sº sº ºg sº as tº s = sº * * * * Bribery. 1- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - } election laws.m. } -- as º ºs ºs & * * * * * * * * * * * as sº as as gº as s = º ºs ºn ºf * * *
Rhode Island ----|-----------|---------- Bribery. -----------|------------|----------|-------------------|---- - - - - - - - - - - ---------- Infamous crimes. -----------|---------------------------
South Carolina---| Treason. ----------|----------------------|------------ Pheling. -------------------|------------------------|--------------------|----------- Murder, robbery.
Tennessee -------|--------------------- Bribery.” -----------|------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------ Infamous crimes. -----------|---------------------------
Texas----------------------- Felony." | Bribery. | Perjury. | Forgery. Dueling. -------------------|------------------------|--------------------|----------- Other high crimes.
Vermont------------------------------ Priºry.P -----------|------------|----------|-------------------|------------------------|--------------------|-----------|---------------------------
gº º
"Virginia ----- ----| Treason. Felony. Bribery. -----------|------------ Dueling. } *º Of } es nº ºn tº sº a sm is sº gº as sº tº sº sº, º º sº º sº me tº sº sº sº º E gº gº sº gº º ºs s is sº as ºs sm ºn as a Larceny." ---------------------------
West Virginia -----------------------|----------|-----------|------------|----------|---º:---------------------------------------------|--------------------------------------
Wisconsin ------- Treason. | Felony. Bribery. -----------|------------ Dueling.<! ------------------ Election wager.] Infamous crimes. Larceny. ---------------------------

(See notes to this table on p. 832.)
832
SUFFRAGE.
view º' in 1851, and effective demand for the en-
franchisement of woman dates from this time,
1850–51. Its advocates argue that it is a natural
right, and that “the consent of the governed ” is
not “the governed property holders, nor the gov-
erned voting men, nor the governed married men,”
but all the governed men and women; that taxa-
tion without representation is tyranny; that the
voting of males is no longer conditioned upon
military Service; that no class is as safe a guardian
of the interests of another class as that other class
Notes to Table on p. 831.
a A crime punishable by death or imprisonment in a state
prison. -
b * The constitution adopted by California in 1879 expressly
disfranchises for infamous crime, embezzlement or misappro-
priation of public money, and dueling, and says that laws
shall be made to exclude from the right of suffrage persons
convicted of the above starred crimes.
t Theft is the term used in the constitution of Connecti-
CUIL.
d The legislature may make the forfeiture of the right of
Suffrage a punishment for crime. -
e No person who has been dishonorably discharged from
the service of the United States is qualified to vote or hold
Office in Kansas.
f Since 1876 “the legislature may enact laws excluding from
the right of Suffrage, for a term not exceeding ten years,” for
this crime at any election.
g These crimes forever disqualify for voting.
h “Under the law of the state, or of the United States, un-
less restored to civil rights.”
i “In any state or territory of the United States, unless re-
stored to civil rights.”
j The constitution of Nevada, Art. IV., Sec. 10, makes inel-
igible for office persons convicted of embezzlement, or de-
falcation of public funds, or bribery, and empowers the leg-
islature to make these crimes punishable as felonies; and by
Art. II., Sec. 1, felony disfranchises.
k The constitution of New Jersey, Art. II., Sec. 1, says that
“no person convicted of a crime which now excludes him
from being a witness, unless pardoned or restored by law to
the right of suffrage, shall enjoy the right of an elector.”
The laws of the state make persons convicted of the tabu-
lated crimes incompetent as witnesses, and if the crime is
perjury or subornation of perjury, a pardon does not re-
move the incompetency.
1 Disfranchises “at such election,” as do all corrupt offers
to give or receive money or other valuable thing for a vote,
in both New York and Pennsylvania.
m Any person convicted of this offense “shall, in addition
to any penalties provided by law, be deprived of the right of
suffrage absolutely for a term of four years.”
n “Any elector who shall receive any gift or reward for his
Vote, in meat, drink, money, or otherwise, shall suffer such
punishment as the laws shall direct.”
o “Subject to such exceptions as the legislature may
make.”
p “Any elector who shall receive any gift or reward for his
vote, in meat, drink, money, or otherwise, shall forfeit his
right to elect at that time, and suffer such other penalty as
the law shall direct.”
q “Petit larceny.”
r “No person who is under conviction of treason, felony
Or bribery in an election, shall be permitted to vote while
such disability continues.” (Const. of W. Va., Art. IV., Sec.
1.) This phrase, “while such disability continues,” has not
received judicial interpretation in West Virginia, but is con-
strued by election officers to mean during imprisonment.
s “These crimes are treason, felony, and the ‘crimen
falsi,”—which term includes crimes which involve a charge
of such falsehood as may injuriously affect the public admin-
istration of justice by the introduction therein of falsehood
and fraud, such as forgery, perjury, subornation of perjury,
or conspiracy to procure the absence of a witness.”
t And persons “who may be under interdiction.”
itself; and that woman needs a vote to adequately
protect and advance her interests. Its opponents
reply, that the Suffrage is not a natural right, that
in all ages and countries it has been conditioned by
qualifications of expediency; that representation
of tax-paying women practically exists; that the
interests of the family and of the state will be best
preserved by continuing the division of labor which
hitherto has exempted women not only from mil-
itary service, but from the performance of polit-
ical duties; that the interests of women are not
so distinct from those of men as to make their
representation as a class either necessary or expe-
dient; and that their interests can be adequately
protected without their having a vote. The agita-
tion has resulted in the limited and tentative en-
franchisement of woman in certain states, and for
certain purposes. In 1866 the American equal
rights association presented the first petition ever
laid before congress for woman suffrage. In 1868
the New England woman suffrage association was
formed, and the first systematic effort begun for
memorializing legislatures and congress, obtain-
ing hearings before these bodies, holding conven-
tions, publishing and distributing tracts and docu-
ments, and securing lecturers. The agitation had,
by 1870, assumed such dimensions in Massachu-
setts, that the republican convention, held Oct. 5,
1870, admitted Lucy Stone and Mary A. Liver-
more as regularly accredited delēgates. The Mas-
sachusetts republican state convention of 1871 in-
dorsed woman suffrage, and the national repub-
lican conventions of 1872 and 1876 resolved that.
the subject “should be treated with respectful
consideration.” The legislature of the territory
of Wyoming, by an act approved Dec. 10, 1869,
granted the right of suffrage to women. The same
right was extended to women in the territory of
Washington in 1883, and has long been exercised
by them in the territory of Utah. Woman suffrage
limited to school elections has at various times.
been conferred as follows: Women may vote at
School meetings in Kansas, Nebraska, New Hamp-
shire, Vermont, Dakota and Wyoming; at School
elections in Colorado and Minnesota; and for mem-
bers of school committees in Massachusetts; at
school meetings in Michigan and New York, if
they are tax payers; in Washington territory, if
they are liable to taxation. Widows and unmar-
ried women in Idaho may vote as to special dis-
trict taxes, if they hold taxable property. In
Oregon, widows having children and taxable prop-
erty may vote at school meetings. In Indiana,
‘‘Women, not married nor minors, who pay taxes
and are listed as parents, guardians, or heads of
families, may vote at school meetings.” In Ken-
tucky any white widow, having a child of School
age, is a qualified school voter; if she has no child,
but is a tax payer, she may vote on the question of
taxes. – The first European legislature to give the
right of suffrage to woman was the house of keys,
in the Isle of Man, which passed an act, approved
Jan. 5, 1881, to extend this privilege to women
having certain property qualifications. The Brit-
SUMNER.
833
ish parliament, by an act approved Aug. 2, 1869,
granted the municipal franchise to women in En-
gland and Wales; by an act approved June 3,
1881, extended the municipal franchise in Scot-
land to unmarried woman, and women not living
in families with their husbands; and by an act ap-
proved in 1870, extended the privilege of voting
for school boards to rate payers, including women.
Prior to the passage of these acts, women had, by
the custom of London, and the custom of some
other parts of England, certain rights of Suffrage
in municipal affairs. — A summary of the laws
relating to suffrage, in the Dominion of Canada
and in the principal countries of Europe, will be
found in the books below, cited under the title
“In foreign states.” — See, on suffrage : Mill's
Bepresentative Government, chap. viii.; Lieber's
Civil Liberty and Self-Government, chap. xvi.
and app. i.; Woolsey’s Political Science, vol. i.,
pp. 299–302, and vol. ii., pp. 111, 112; Sumner's
Theory and Practice of Elections, in “Princeton
Review,” March and July, 1880. On suffrage in
the United States: Poore's Charters and Constitu-
tions; Bancroft's History of the United States, pas-
Sim; Hildreth’s History of the United States, vol.
iii., pp. 381, 506; Frothingham's Rise of the Re-
public, chap. i.; Cooke's Virginia, pp. 222–225;
De Tocqueville's Democracy in America, vol. i.,
chaps, v., xiii.; Cooley’s Constitutional Law, chap.
xiv., secs. 1, 2; Minor vs. Happersett, 21 Wal.,
172, 173; Slaughter-House Cases, 16 Wal., 36; U. S.
vs. Reese, 92 U. S. Rep., 214; Spencer vs. Board
of Registration, 1 McArthur (D. C.) 169. In the
territories: Poore's Charters and Constitutions ;
Revised Statutes of U. S., Secs. 1859, 1860. In
the District of Columbia: Const. of U. S., Art. I.,
Sec. 8; Stat. at Large. On negro suffrage, N. A.
Rev., vol. 128, pp. 161, 225. On disfranchisement
for crime, Journal of Social Science for 1882, No.
17, p. 71. On woman suffrage, Mill’s Representative
Government, chap. viii., and Subjection of Women;
Condorcet's Plea for Citizenship of Women, Fort.
Rev., vol. xiii., p. 719; Journal of Social Science,
No. 10, p. 42; Stephens' Liberty, Equality and Fra-
ternity, chap. v.; Robinson's Massachusetts ºn the
Woman Suffrage Movement, N. A. Rev., vol. 129,
pp. 303, 413, and vol. 130, p. 16; Report of Bureau
of Education, 1880, xxv., xxvi. In foreign states :
Demombynes' Les Constitutions Européennes, 1881;
Block’s Diction/maire de l’Administration Française,
Art. Elections, and at end, Administration Com-
parée; Martin’s Statesman’s Year-Book, 1883. In
Great Britain : Walpole's The Electorate and the
Legislature. In Germany: Report of Foreign Re-
lations of U. S., 1877–8, p. 196. In Prussia, idem,
p. 176. JAMES FAIRBANKS COLBY.
SUMNER, Charles, was born at Boston, Mass.,
Jan. 6, 1811, and died at Washington, D.C.,
March 11, 1874. He was graduated at Harvard
in 1830, studied law with Story, whose decisions
he afterward reported, was admitted to the bar in
1834, and was for the next three years a lecturer in
the Harvard law school. In 1837–40 he was absent
172 VOL. III. — 53
in Europe, and on his return resumed practice. He
had always been an anti-slavery whig, but in 1848
became a free soiler; and a coalition of democrats
and free-soilers, in 1851, sent him to the United
States senate, where he remained until his death.
(See MASSACHUSETTS.) In the senate, Sumner,
Seward, Hale and Chase were at first the anti-
&
slavery leaders, and among them Sumner was
as pre-eminent for polished oratory and radical
independence of thought and speech as Seward
was for keen appreciation of popular feeling, Hale
for powers of sarcasm, or Chase for Sound com-
mon sense. Southern leaders seem to have felt
considerable contempt for the last three; but an
active hatred was developed against Sumner, and
resulted in a brutal assault upon him in May, 1856.
(See BRooks, P. S.) In 1860 he resumed his seat
in the senate; and in July, 1861, he became chair-
man of the committee on foreign relations. He
was now one of the national leaders of the domi-
nant republican party, and took an active part in
anti-slavery legislation, in reconstruction, in the
impeachment of president Johnson, and in the
prosecution of the Alabama claims upon Great
Britain. His assertion of the validity of indirect
claims, made with his usual force of argument,
made him for some time extremely unpopular in
England. In December, 1870, he opposed and
defeated president Grant’s project for the annexa-
tion of San Domingo (see that title); and in 1871,
through the influence of the administration, he
was removed from the chairmanship of his com-
mittee, which was given to Simon Cameron, of
Pennsylvania. The ostensible reason for this
action, offered by the state department, was an al-
leged neglect of Sumner to take action on treaties
intrusted to him; but this was entirely disproved.
His real offense seems to have been his continuing
purpose to maintain the cause of the negro race,
with little deference to party considerations or to
the dignity of party leaders. — From this time he
was an outspoken antagonist of the administration,
his finest speeches being made in February, 1872,
on the government's sale of arms during the Fran-
co-German war, and in May, 1872, on the presi-
dent’s abuse of the appointing power. In Decem-
ber, 1874, he introduced a resolution to remove
from the army register and flags the names of
battles with fellow-citizens. For this his state
legislature censured him by resolution, but the res-
olution was rescinded before his death. (See also
AMNESTY, CIVIL RIGHTs BILL.) — See Lester's
Life of Summer; Harsha's Life of Summer; Pierce's
Memorial and Letters of Summer; and Sumner's
Orations and Speeches (1850), Speeches and Addresses
(1856), and complete Works (1875), the first four
volumes including the years 1845–60, and the last
eight the years 1860–68. The most celebrated of
his anti-slavery speeches are, “The Crime against
Ransas" (4:127), and “The Barbarism of Slavery”
(5:1). ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
suMPTUARY LAWs.
TUARY.)
(See LAws, SUMP-
834
SWEDEN.
SUPPLY. (See PARLIAMENTARY LAw.)
SUPREME COURT. (See JUDICIARY.)
SWEDEN. A kingdom situated in the north
of Europe and in the east of the Scandinavian
peninsula, about three-fifths of which it occupies.
Its area is 444,814 square kilometres, of which
more than 37,000 are covered by lakes. The area
of Norway (see Norway) is not comprised in
these figures. The country is mountainous, but its
mountains, situated mostly in the north, do not
reach the height of those in Norway; the highest
mountain in Sweden, Sulitelma, is only 6,342
Swedish feet above the sea level. In Norway more
than half the country is 2,000 feet high, while not
more than one-twelfth part of Swedish soil reaches
this elevation; nearly one-third, especially in the
south, does not exceed 300 feet. — The population,
which is of the Scandinavian race, except about
16,000 Finns, 6,000 Lapps and 1,100 Jews, was
4,204,177 in 1872; on Dec. 31, 1880, the popula-
tion was 4,565,668. In 1867 the total population
was 4,195,681; 3,673,828 inhabitants (87.51 per
cent.) living in the country, and 521,853 (12.49 per
cent.) in the city. —I. Constitution. Four funda-
mental laws account for the present political con-
stitution of Sweden: the law concerning the form
of government (regerings formen) dated June 6,
1809; the law on representation (riksdays-ordnºn-
gen), June 22, 1866; the order of succession (suc-
cessions-ordningen), Sept. 26, 1810; and the law on
the liberty of the press (tryckfrihets førordningen),
July 16, 1812. The union with Norway is regu-
lated by the act of union (riks-akten), Aug. 6, 1815.
—The government is a limited monarchy, hered-
itary in the agnatic line. The king governs alone,
on condition of consulting on all affairs, before ar-
riving at a decision, his responsible ministers,
(statsråd,counselor of state) whom he chooses freely
among Swedes by birth, members of the evangel-
ical church, and whom he replaces whenever he
sees fit; thus they are justly considered to have
his confidence so long as they are retained in office.
The council of ministers is composed of ten mem-
bers, seven of whom are heads of departments
(with the departments of justice and foreign affairs
is connected the title of ministers of state; next in
title come the ministers of war, of the navy, of the
interior, of ecclesiastical affairs and of finance);
three members of the council, without portfolios,
have only a consultative vote. The king can not
decide any affair on which the council must be
heard, unless in presence of three ministers at
least, besides the one who reports the affair or calls
attention to the matter. The entire council must
be present when important questions are discussed.
A protocol or record of all the questions brought
before the council is drawn up. The members
present are obliged to express and give the reason
for their opinions in the protocol; and they are
responsible for their opinions. Should the deci-
sion of the king happen to be contrary to the fun-
damental law of the kingdom, the ministers are
obliged to protest. Should a minister not give a
contrary opinion in the protocol, he becomes re-
Sponsible for the decision taken. On the other
hand, no royal Ordinance is binding unless coun-
tersigned by the minister whom it concerns. The
minister who refuses to countersign, by this fact
alone, lays down his portfolio, retaining his salary.
He can not resume office until after the chambers
have examined and approved his conduct. The
ministers are responsible for their advice or their
silence; in no case can they make a decision; this
always belongs to the king. — The Swedish con-
stitution does not, as we see, admit of a govern-
ment by ministers in the modern sense. The royal
authority is exercised, in foreign affairs, by his
Supreme direction of chief questions of diplºmacy,
and by his right of concluding treaties or alliances,
and of declaring war or peace. The king can con-
clude treaties or alliances after having heard the
advice, on the subject, of the minister of state and
of foreign affairs, and of another member of the
council summoned for this purpose. For war or
peace he must assemble the whole council, explain
the reasons and circumstances, and ask the Opin-
ions of all the ministers, which they give, each one
Separately, and which is embodied in the protocol,
on their responsibility. The king alone can make
a decision; but no tax can be laid or loan made
without the consent of the diet. There is, it is
true, a sum set aside for the requirements of war;
but the king can dispose of it only after a special
meeting of the diet. Besides, the army and navy
of Norway can not be employed in aggressive
warfare except with consent of the storthing. The
king governs in the interior by officials who derive
all their authority from him, but whose salaries
depend upon the diet. He has legislative power;
the general rule is, that the king and the diet to-
gether enact the laws, observing certain forms
in enacting them. The king has judicial power.
From time immemorial he has been the judge of
all; but his right of judging is transferred to his su-
preme tribunal. The king has the right of pardon,
but only after having heard his tribunal does he
decide the case in a council of ministers. He can
not dispense any one from the law, unless in cases
fixed by the law itself. If the king leaves the
kingdom to go to a war, or if he visits provinces
distant from the centre, or visits Norway, he must
appoint three of his ministers, presided over by a
prince of the royal house or by another minister,
to transact the business with which he intrusts
them. Under such circumstances, the king re-
serves to himself certain affairs, and therefore
takes one or more of his ministers with him. But
if he travels outside the kingdom, he can not ex-
ercise his authority while abroad. In such case,
and also in that of sickness, power is intrusted to
the prince nearest the throne, if he has reached
the legal age, or if there is no such person, to a
government ad interim, composed of the ten min-
isters of Sweden and the ten ministers of Norway.
If this state of affairs does not cease within a year,
the diet is summoned, and takes such measures as
SWEDEN.
835
it finds necessary. — The representation of the na-
tion, since the law of June 22, 1866, rests not as
formerly on the division of the nation into four
orders, but on election only. Two chambers, hav-
ing equal authority, compose the diet. The mem-
bers of the first chamber are elected for nine years
by the landstången (species of provincial assem-
blies) and by the stadsfullmäktige (municipal coun-
selors) of cities which do not sit in the landsting.
A member is elected by 30,000 inhabitants. Can-
didates are eligible, without reference to place of
domicile, who have completed their thirty-fifth
year, and who own or have owned for at least
three years before the election, immovable prop-
erty, estimated for taxation at 80,000 rixdalers, or
such as have, during the same length of time, paid
taxes on at least 4,000 rixdalers of an annual in-
come, either from their capital or their labor. If,
after the election, a member of the diet finds his
fortune insufficient to render him eligible, he is
obliged to resign. Members of the first chamber
receive no salary. Members of the second cham-
ber are elected for three years, a member for each
jurisdiction (domsaga) of the country, if the pop-
ulation does not exceed 40,000 (if it does, it is di-
vided into two districts); one member for every
10,000 inhabitants in the cities, those having less
than 10,000 being grouped into electoral districts
of at least 6,000 inhabitants, and at most 12,000.
In cities populous enough to send one or more
members to the diet, the election is direct; in the
others and in the country, it is of two degrees, un-
less the electors themselves decide by a vote to
make the election direct. No man is a voter for
and eligible to the second chamber except in the
commune where he is domiciled ; whoever pos-
sesses, in his own right or in usufruct, immovable
property in the country or the city, assessed for
taxation purposes at 1,000 rixdalers at least, is eli-
gible, or who rents for life, or for five years at
least, an agricultural holding valued for taxation
purposes at 6,000 rixdalers at least, or who pays
taxes on a yearly income of at least 800 rixdalers.
To be eligible to the second chamber a candidate
must have completed his twenty-fifth year, and
have possessed for at least one year the right of
election in the commune or in one of the com-
munes in which he is a candidate. The members
of the second chamber receive a salary of 12,000
rixdalers per year. If a member resigns after
having served some time, his successor is elected
only to fill the unexpired part of the term; so that
every three years there are general elections for
the second chamber. — The ordinary session of the
diet begins each year on Jan. 15, and can not be
dissolved, without its consent, before the expira-
tion of four months. The king, however, may
exercise his right of calling new elections to one
of the two chambers, or to both simultaneously.
The king may call and adjourn an extra session
Of the diet at his pleasure; such a diet can exam-
ine only the questions which it was summoned to .
consider. The presidents of both chambers are
appointed by the king. No deliberation is had,
and no resolution taken in presence of the king.
The ministers may be members of the diet; those
who are not members have the right of being pres-
ent in both chambers and taking part in delibera-
tions, but without a vote. The initiative in the
diet belongs in part to the king, who makes propo-
sitions to the two chambers, and in part to the
deputies, whose motions must be made within ten
days after the opening of the diet, unless as to
questions concerning constitutional changes, or
those caused by facts which have arisen during
the session.— Business is prepared by committees,
who give their views to the chambers. There are
five permanent committees, which are formed at
the opening of each ordinary diet: 1, the commit-
tee on the constitution, for all questions of change
in the constitution—this committee examines the
reports of the council of ministers, and gives its
opinions on them ; 2, the committee on finance
(stats-utskott), which examines the public revenues
and expenditures; 3, the committee on taxation,
which proposes new taxes, and calculates the in-
come therefrom ; 4, the bank committee (bank-
wiskott), which inspects the royal bank and directs
its administration; 5, the committee on legislation
(lag-utskott), which gives its opinion on everything
relating to civil, criminal and ecclesiastical law.
Special committees, for the discussion of questions
connected with the permanent committees, may
also be formed, if the diet thinks necessary. Fi-
nally, if a question arises outside the jurisdiction
of the permanent committees, a special committee
(tillfälligt-utskott) is appointed. The permanent
and special committees are appointed half by one
and half by the other chamber. Special mention
must be made of the so-called secret committee
(hemliga-utskott), which is appointed by the two
chambers at the request of the king, for the pur-
pose of giving its advice to the king himself on
such questions as it shall please him to propose. —
If the two chambers agree in a decision, it be-
comes the decision of the diet. If they are op-
posed in opinion, it is for the competent commit-
tee to endeavor to bring them to an agreement;
should it not succeed, the question is adjourned
till another session. If, however, this question
concerns the taxes, public expenditure, or the
bank, the two chambers vote separately, and the
opinion which has the majority of votes, without
regard to the chambers, becomes the decision of
the diet. In case of necessity, the diet elects the
king, the successor to the throne, or the regent.
Together with the king, it frames the laws, votes
the taxes, fixes the budget, and exercises control
over the government and its officials, through the
agency of its procurator general (justitie-ombuds-
man) elected each year by forty-eight electors .
chosen for this purpose, twenty-four by each cham-
ber. It is the duty of this procurator general of
the diet to see that the laws are faithfully executed
by all functionaries; he has access to all tribunals,
and central administrative bureaus; he may have
all records or reports brought to him; he publishes
each year a general statement, which is printed. —
836
SWEDEN.
It has been stated that the committee on the con-
stitution is obliged to report on the action of the
ministers; if it accuses any one of them of neg-
ligence or incapacity, it informs the king of its
desire to see such minister removed; or if it dis-
covers an illegal act or a violation of the con-
stitution committed by a minister, it orders the
procurator general of the diet to summon that
minister before the court of the kingdom (riks-
Tätt), a tribunal appointed in advance for cases of
this kind. — The administration of financial af-
fairs is controlled by the diet through deputy
directors and deputy controllers appointed in the
two chambers on the occasion of each diet. The
diet, its committees and its members, are inviola-
ble. No deputy can be brought to justice or de-
prived of his liberty for any of his acts, or for any
of his words during the session, unless the cham-
'ber of which he is a member gives its consent by
five-sixths of its votes. – Two special establish-
ments are entirely under the management of the
diet: the national bank (riksbank), and the office of
the public debt (riksgåldkomtor). The bank is
managed by seven delegates of the diet, elected
at each session. The office of the public debt is
an institution altogether peculiar to Sweden. It
dates, with its present organization, from 1789.
Gustavus III. had allowed the public debt to in-
crease; the diet, after it had regained something
of the power which it wielded under the preceding
reign, claimed this branch of the financial manage-
ment. The duties of the office of the public debt
since 1809 are, to see to the payment of the debt,
with the taxes set aside for this purpose, to the
expenditures and necessary loans made on the
credit of the debt. Its revenues are : the contri-
bution called allmänna bevöllning, the stamps on
newspapers and playing cards, a part of the profit
of the bank, etc. It is needless to say that this
financial administration of the diet greatly ham-
pers that of the minister of finance, and that con-
tinual efforts are made to reconcile them. — Every
three years the diet appoints six members, distin-
guished for their knowledge and enlightenment, to
watch over the liberty of the press, together with
the procurator general, their president. These
delegates, of whom two besides the procurator
general must be jurists, are elected by ballot by
twenty-four electors chosen by each of the cham-
bers from its own body, twelve from each. If an
author or a publisher sends them a manuscript,
asking whether the publication of this writing
would cause any prosecution, the procurator gen-
eral of the diet, and at least three delegates, of
whom one is a jurist, must give their opinion in
writing. If they declare that the work may be
printed, the author and the printer are free from
all responsibility; it falls on the delegates entirely.
— Communal liberties, formerly very considerable
in Sweden, have become weakened during recent
centuries, especially outside the cities, to the ad-
vantage of centralization; but they have never
become extinct. They are regulated at present
by the royal ordinance of 1862, the chief provisions
of which are as follows: Parish affairs, in which
every tax-paying Swedish subject (except those
of the lowest grade) of good moral character has
a voice, are of two kinds: those relating to the
church and its property, Schools, and the salaries
of the clergy and Schoolmaster, are managed by
the church assembly (kyrkostämma), composed of
all inhabitants having the right of suffrage and
belonging to the Swedish church. The pastor is
president. All other affairs are managed by the
communal assembly (kommunal-Stämma), which
chooses its own president, or by municipal dele-
gates. Both councils can levy taxes for objects
which concern them. The church assembly has
two delegates, the council of the church and
the council of the school (kyrkordd skolråd), elect-
ed for four years. The communal assembly ap-
points a communal jury (kommunal-nāmnd) of
from three to eleven members, which exercises
executive power in its name, manages the com-
munal property, the income and expenditures.
The communal assembly may delegate its right
to the kommunalfullmäktige, that is to say, to the
members of the communal jury, and to a number
three times as great of persons specially elected
for four years, by the assembly alone, which can
not, however, without consent of the king, convey
property or issue loans redeemable in more than
two years. Every city (stad) forms a commune of
itself, its communal assembly takes the name of
communal house (allmán rādstuga). In every city
with more than 3,000 inhabitants the right of de-
cision belongs to delegates of the city (stadsfull-
'mäktige), who are elected by the assembly of the
communal house for four years, to the number of
from twenty to sixty, according to the population.
The executive authority in each city, in the name
of the commune and the state, is the magistrate
(that is to say, a burgomaster, selected by the king
from a list of three candidates chosen by the city,
and councilors chosen by the city.) The com-
munal property and finances are managed by a
chamber of finance (drätselkammare) which ap-
points the delegates or the members of the city
council. — The most remarkable of new com-
munal institutions which revives under other
forms an institution fallen into disuse for about
two generations, is the landsting, a sort of general
council. In the terms of the royal ordinance of
March 21, 1862, every lán is to have a landsting
composed of twenty members at least, delegated
by the cities (Städer), by the hārads and the tings-
lags (places inferior to cities) comprised in the lăn.
However, the cities having more than 25,000 in-
habitants, Stockholm and Göteborg, are not in-
cluded. The landsting examines and decides the
communal affairs of the lăn relative to general
administration, agriculture, ways of communica-
tion, public health, education, public order, etc.
It meets in regular sessions every year, in the
month of September, for eight days, excluding
holidays; but it may hold extraordinary sessions
of its own motion or by order of the king. The
presidents are appointed by the king; its deliber-
SWEDEN.
837
ations are public; the initiative belongs both to the
royal power and to every member of the landsting.
The landshöfðing, or prefect of the lăn, assists
and takes part in the deliberations. The landsting
has the authority to fix, according to a budget
agreed upon, the taxes or necessary loans. But
it must have the royal approval for expenditures
involving taxation for more than five years, or
loans payable at a time longer than five years, or
for the alienation of the domains. – The relation
established between the various communal author.
ities and the royal power is such that, though a cer-
tain number of their resolutions, to be valid, must
obtain the consent of the king or of his represent-
atives, a consent which may be refused, communal
liberties at least can suffer no prejudice, it being
impossible to make any provisions to their preju-
dice. The royal authority in case complaints are
preferred to the king, may annul, administratively,
communal decisions if they violate any private
right. This new institution of the landsting has
perhaps not been in operation long enough yet to
be judged accurately. It is probable, however, that
it affords an efficient intermediary between the
central power and the local authorities. – II. Fº-
'mances. Each diet frames the budget of receipts
and expenditures for the following year. The ex-
penditures are ordinary or extraordinary, a divis-
ion which is not expressed in the law regulating
the form of government, but which was established
by the force of things, and has been practiced
since 1841. The ordinary expenditures are includ-
ed under nine principal heads: the civil list, the
seven ministerial departments, the pensions, and
the retired list. — The following is a comparison
between the budgets of 1869 and 1841: Civil list,
in 1841, 1,079,550 rixdalers riksmynt (royal mint),
(6.7 per cent. of all the expenditure); in 1869,
1,417,000 r. (3.7 per cent.); increase since 1841, 31
per cent. Justice, 1,034,355. r. (6.4 per cent.);
2,354,100 r. (6 per cent.); 12.7 per cent. Foreign
affairs, 338,475 r. (2.1 per cent.); 457,950 r. (1.1
per cent); 32 per cent. War, 6,159,765 r. (38.2 per
cent.); 9,528,000 r. (24.9 per cent.); 54 per cent.
Navy, 1,997,145 r. (12.3 per cent.); 3,963,800 r.
(10.3 per cent.); 98 per cent. Interior, 1,268,550
r. (7.8 per cent.); 9,086,500 r. (21 per cent.); 53.7
per cent. Finances, 2,071,155 r. (12.8 per cent.);
6,359,200 r. (16.6 per cent.); 20.7 per cent. Pub-
lic worship, 1,483,320 r. (9.2 per cent.); 4,714,700
r. (12.3 per cent.); 20.7 per cent. Pensions and
retired list, 682,005 r. (4.2 per cent.); 1,321,373
r. (3.4 per cent.); 93 per cent. To sum up : in
1841, 16,114,320 riksdalers riksmynt; in 1869,
38,202,629 r.; increase, 137 per cent. The riks-
daler riksmynt is worth 1 franc 429 m., for there
are 100 åre in the riksdaler, and a franc is worth
70 &re. (The riksdaler is valued at 1 fr. 41%.)
The considerable increase of expenditures for
justice is explained, not by the number of crimes
and misdemeanors, but by the erection of prisons
of a new system. It will be remarked also that one
of the principal items of increase was for public
instruction. The increase of expenditures touch-
may be used for other pressing needs.
ing finances and the postal service is explained by
the increase of commercial activity, which also
naturally figures among the sources of income.
The diet of 1856 marked one of the stages of this
transformation by increasing the salaries of offi-
cials; the budget of ordinary expenditures was
increased that year from 19,315,380 to 25,508,500
riksdalers riksmynt, that is to say, 32 per cent.
— Extraordinary expenditures are voted for one
year, and must be paid partly by the office of the
state, and partly by the office of the public debt
(riksgåldskontor). In 1869 the first had to pay
5,496,371 riksdalers riksmynt for the artillery
service and the railroads; the second, 1,187,999
r. for roads, canals, etc. All the expenditures for
1869 amounted, therefore, to 45,086,999 r. Two
special credits in view of unforeseen expendi-
tures should also be mentioned; the first of which
can only be employed in case of war, the second
The pub-
lic revenues, for the greater part, are paid to the
office of the state. There is the ordinary income,
which combines several varieties of ancient land
tax, estimated, in 1869, at 4,693,800 r.; crown
tithes, that is to say, that part of the tithes which,
at the time of the reformation, was reserved to
the crown, and which now amounts to 1,684,200
r.; the poll tax, a personal tax which has become
insignificant, 600,000 r.; and the farming of royal
domains, 410,000 r. Many of the ordinary taxes
have been abolished in recent, years, but the prod-
uce of those which remain (most of them are
paid in kind) are increased by a more exact
estimate of prices. The ordinary revenues in-
creased notably in 1869, since that was the first
year in which they included the product of the
railroad traffic, 6,400,000 r., so that the sum
total of receipts was 15,260,720 r. — Extraor-
dinary resources consist in taxes voted by the
diet each year: 1, the customs, which produced,
in 1861, 14,857,508 r., and in 1871, 19,116,601 r.
2, the tax on the manufacture of spirits; in 1861,
8,002,669 r., and in 1871, 11,719,493 r.; this tax
has become important only since the diet of 1854
provided that this manufacture should pay 50 åre
on a measure called kanna, and the diet of 1857
raised this figure to 60 &re. 3, the postal service,
the produce of which (serving simply to maintain
and extend it) was, in 1861, 1,675,446 r.; in 1871,
2,271,306 r. 4, stamps; in 1861, 1,551,408 r.; and
in 1870, 1,347,215 r. The whole amount of ex-
traordinary receipts was, in 1841, 7,006,500 r.; in
1869, 26,350,000 r.; in 1872, about 49,400,000 r.,
including the communal tax (allmänna-bevillněng);
in 1871, 2,887,400 r. was paid to the office of the
public debt. This office has to meet the public
debt with this and its other resources, under the
direction, control and administration of the diet.
The budget of 1874 reached 60,000,000 riksdalers
of ordinary and extraordinary expenditures. –
Till 1854 Sweden had only an insignificant debt;
but in that year the diet decided that railroads
should be built by the state, and the necessary Cap-
ital be obtained by loans. The years immediately
838
SWEDEN.
following gave receipts sufficiently good to redeem
a number of these loans; but at the end of 1867
there were 91,148,235 r. of Swedish bonds; to
which, in 1868, a foreign loan of 18,000,000 riks-
dalers was added.
ent (1883) is derived, to the extent of one-third,
from direct taxes and national property, including
railways; and the rest, mainly from indirect taxa-
tion, customs and excise duties, and an impost on
spirits. The sources of revenue and branches of
expenditure of the kingdom for the year 1882–3
were established as follows, in the budget esti-
mates passed in the session of 1882 by the diet:
- Sources of Revenue for 1882-3.
Domains, railway, land taxes, etc.----------------- 20,500,000
Customs------------------------------------------ 27,500,000
Post---------------------------------------------- ,100,
Stamps------------------------------------------- 3,000,
Impost on Spirits, etc.---------------------------- 17,070,000
Impost on income-------------------------------- 4,100,000
Net profit of the state bank------ ‘as as ºs = * * * * * = * * * * * * = 1,600,000
Surplus from previous years---------------------- 2,789,137
Total revenue--------------------------------- 78,749,137
Branches of Earpenditure for 1882—3.
Ordinary:
Royal household.--------------------- 1,338,000
Justice------------------------------ 3,753,000
Foreign affairs----------------------- 613,
Army-------------------------------- 17,205,000
Navy-------------------------------- 5,375,000
Interior------------------------------ 4,396,300
Education and ecclesiastical affairs.--10,132,551
Finance----------------------------- ,293,000
Pensions----------------------------- ;430,000
— 58,536,711
Extraordinary---------- -------------------------- 7,827,589
Expenditure through the riksgäldskontor:
Paying of loans---------------------- 9,522,132
Miscellaneous------------------------ 665,8
- - 10,187,932
Carried to floating capital.------------------------- 2,196,905
Total expenditure---------------------------- 78,749,137
—The expenditure for the army, church, and for
certain civil offices, is in part defrayed out of the
revenue of landed estates belonging to the crown,
and the amounts do not appear in the budget esti-
mates. To the expenditure for foreign affairs Nor-
way contributes annually 304,700 kroner, a sum
not entered in the estimates. The expenses for
public instruction are in great part defrayed by
the parishes and the provincial assemblies (land.
Stång). — To the riksgåldskontoº, the supervision of
which is exclusively exercised by the diet, belongs
the administration of the public debt—exclusively
incurred for the construction of railways—and
the right to contract any loans which the diet
may vote. — On Jan. 1, 1881, the public liabilities
of the kingdom were as follows, according to re-
ports laid before the diet:
- ECroner.
|Failway loan of 1858, at 4% per cent------------- 13,942,400
{ % “ 1860, at 4% “ ------------- 14,270,133
{ { “ 1861, at 4% “ ------------- 1,802,800
{{ “ 1864, at 4% “ ------------- 8,853,000
{ { “ 1866, at 5 “ ------------- 25,263,467
“ “ 1868, at 5 “ ------------- 20,052,272
& 4 “ 1870, at 5 “ ------------- 14,150,700
& & “ 1872, at 4 “ ------------- 18,356,300
{ { “ 1875, at 4% “ ------------- 36,309,333
{ { “ 1876, at 4% “ ------------- 35,539,120
{ % “ 1878, at 4 “ ------------- 26,232,000
Unfunded obligations repayable by Nov. 1, 1885-- 9,000,000
Total --------------------------------------- 226,399,102
[The national income at pres-
In 1880–81 a further loan of $22,000,000 was
issued at 4 per cent., mainly to redeem previous
issues bearing higher rates of interest. All the
loans are paid off gradually by means of sinking
funds.-F. M.] A. GEOFFROY.
—III. Religion. Religious liberty has been, till
within recent years, entirely unknown in Swe-
den. Two laws of 1860 gave, in this regard,
very incomplete satisfaction to public sentiment.
The following is, according to the terms of this.
new legislation, the actual condition of dissent-
ing Christians living in Sweden. Dissenters,
who wish to meet and form a religious associa-
tion in a given place, must present a request
to the king, in order to obtain the necessary per-
mission for the exercise of their religion. Every
authorized association must choose a head, and
have its choice approved by the civil authority of
the place. The elected head must furnish all in-
formation demanded of him by the government
relative to his coreligionists. No religious order
is permitted. Associations or religious communi-
ties can not, unless by special authorization of the
king, own real estate, except for churches and
cemeteries. Celebration of mixed marriages be-
longs to the clergy of the Swedish church. Legit-
imate children born of dissenting parents may be
freely educated in the doctrines professed by their
parents. In case of a mixed marriage, if the
father belongs to the national church, the chil-
dren must be educated in the Evangelical doc-
trine. If the father is a dissident, the agreement.
written at the time of marriage must be followed,
or, in default of agreement, the father is at com-
plete liberty to educate his children in the dissent, .
ing community. But he must inform the pastor
of the parish of his determination, and undergo
the remonstrances of this pastor, together with.
those of the chapter. Sweden has an archbishop,
at Upsala, and eleven bishops, who are appointed
by the king from a list of candidates drawn up.
by the clergy. The pastors of cities are also ap-
pointed by the king. The ministers of rural par-
ishes are elected by the people. The mass of
the population adhere to the Lutheran-Protestant
church, recognized as the state religion. At the
census of 1870 the number of “Evangelical Lu-
therans” was returned at 4,162,087, the Protestant.
dissenters, Baptists, Methodists, and others, num-
bering 3,999. Of other creeds, there were 573.
Roman Catholics, 30 Greek Catholics, and 1,836
Jews. – IV. Public Instruction. Sweden has long.
been one of the countries of Europe in which
primary instruction is most disseminated. Edu,
cation is not free except for the poor, but it is
obligatory, in this sense, that children can not be
admitted to their first communion until they are:
able to read and write. In each parish there is a
school directed by a teacher and supervised by
the pastor. The teacher is generally appointed
by the bishop of the diocese. The programme
of primary instruction includes reading, writing,
Swedish grammar, the catechism, sacred history,
SWEDEN.
839
sacred music, swimming, gymnastics, an abridge-
ment of national history, and a brief study of the
physical and political constitution of the two
united kingdoms. In certain districts there are
traveling teachers, who go from farm to farm and
place themselves for a certain time at the dispos-
al of parents who are unable to send their chil-
dren to the parish school. Establishments for in-
termediate instruction, called Latin schools, or
learned schools, are under the almost exclusive
control of the bishops. The study of the Ger-
man, English and French languages is the ob-
ject of particular care. Several large cities con-
tain also gymnasia, or day colleges, and free in-
stitutions founded and managed by private per-
sons. Higher instruction is given in the two uni-
versities of Upsala and Lund. The university of
Upsala is one of the oldest and richest in Europe.
Its foundation goes back to the year 1476. It is
placed under the direction of a chancellor (who is
generally one of the great personages of the state,
Sometimes even a prince of the blood), and is
managed in fact by a rector aided by a consistory.
The ordinary fellows, or tutors, are not clothed
with any official title, but they are authorized to
teach freely in the halls of the university. The
university is divided into four faculties: theology,
law, medicine, and philosophy. The university
of Lund is organized on the same plan. Both
universities are under the same chancellor. In
the year 1878 nearly 98 per cent. of all the chil—
dren between eight and fifteen years visited the
public schools. There were 5,031 male and 5,183
female teachers in the primary schools in 1878.
The university at Upsala is frequented by 1,500,
and that at Lund by 650, students per annum.
—W. Army and Navy. The Swedish army is com-
posed of four distinct classes of troops. 1. The
várfoade, or enlisted troops, to which belong the
royal life-guards, one regiment of hussars, the
artillery, and the engineers. 2. The indelta, or
national militia, the privates of which are paid
and kept by the land owners. Every soldier of
the indelta has, besides a small annual pay, his
torp, or cottage, with a piece of ground attached,
which remains his own during the whole period
of service, often extending over thirty years, or
even longer. In time of peace the infantry of the
Žndelta are called up for a month’s annual prac-
tice, and the cavalry for thirty-six days. In time
of war, an extraordinary indelta has to be raised,
partly by land owners, who, on this account, en-
joy certain privileges, including non-contribution
to the cost of the peace establishment. 3. The
militia of Gothland, consisting of thirty com-
panies of infantry, and three batteries of artillery.
They are not compelled by law to serve beyond
the confines of the isle of Gothland, and have a
separate command. 4. The bevăring, or conscrip-
tion troops, drawn by annual levy, from the male
population, between the ages of twenty and
twenty-five years. The law of conscription was
introduced into Sweden in 1812, but the right of
purchasing substitutes, which formerly existed,
was abolished by the diet in 1872. — The total
strength of the armed forces of Sweden in 1882
was as follows: *

Line Bevaring. | Militia. | Total.
Officers and staff---| 1,905 337 127 2,36
Infantry ----------- 28,692 126,000 || 8,038 162,730
Cavalry------------ 5,076 4,000 ||-------- 9,07
Artillery (258 guns) - 4,248 5,000 228 9,476
Engineers---------- 915 ---- ----|-------- 915
Total ---------- 40,836 135,337 8,293 184,566
There are also volunteers, first organized in the
year 1861, by the spontaneous desire of the popu-
lation of the kingdom. In time of peace the
volunteers are individually free, and bound by no
other rules and regulations than their own, but in
time of war they may be compelled to place them-
Selves under the command of the military author-
ities. However, they can be required only to
serve within the limits of their own districts. At
the end of 1882 the volunteers numbered 11,065
men. In 1882 the total army of Sweden, officers
and men, numbered 195,901, with 258 guns and
6,646 horses. – In the pariiamentary session of
1862, and again in the sessions of 1865, 1869, 1871
and 1875, the government brought bills before the
diet for a reorganization of the whole of the army,
but none of them were adopted by the represent-
atives of the people. — The navy of the kingdom
is divided into three classes, namely, first, the
royal navy; secondly, the royal naval reserve ;
and thirdly, the naval bevăring. The fleet in
1882 consisted of 15 ironclads, 29 unarmed
steamers, 10 sailing vessels, and 105 galleys; with.
a total : horse power, 20,060; guns, 373; crew,
5,204. —WI. Resources. Agriculture, long devel-
oped in Sweden, has attained proportions truly
remarkable. The southern provinces, whose soil
is very fertile by nature, have at present the smil-
ing and fruitful aspect of the richest plains of
central Europe. In 1825 the production of cereals
did not suffice for the consumption of the inhab-
itants, and the annual importation varied from
200,000 to 300,000 tons. Toward 1834 Sweden
commenced to export wheat and flour. From
1840 to 1845 exportation rose to an average of
116,000 tons ; in 1849 it rose to 377,000 tons (165
litres), and in 1855 it reached 1,739,000 tons. In
1869 the harvest Consisted of 582,019 tons of
wheat, 3,738,917 of rye, 2,798,634 of barley:
7,322,652 of oats, and 7,671,492 of potatoes. In
the same year the live stock of Sweden numbered
420,859 horses, 1,874,360 head of horned cattle,
1,539,079 sheep, 121,911 goats, 339,248 hogs, and
140,000 domesticated reindeer. The exportation
of timber has increased at a still greater rate, if
possible. — The mineral wealth of Sweden is rec-
ognized, and it is universally known how much
the iron of Dalecarlia is sought for in the differ-
ent markets of Europe. Since 1830 the iron
industry has acquired new vigor. In 1833 the
manufacture of bar iron was 452,000 Skeppunds
840
SWITZERLAND.
(the skeppund is 135 kilogrammes), in 1856 it
rose to 840,000 skeppunds, in 1860 to 3,219,660
quintals, and in 1870 to 4,559,331. The produc-
tion of copper is as follows: in 1833, 5,519 skep-
punds; in 1856, 13,402 skeppunds; in 1860,
37,251 quintals; in 1870, 43,853 quintals. There is
but little coal in Sweden, for only 1,754,083 cubic
feet were taken out in 1870. — Swedish manufact-
ures extend to almost every branch of industry:
woolen cloth, silk, cotton, cotton woven and spun,
refined sugar, tobacco, paper, leather and oil. The
value of all the products of industry in the coun-
try, which in 1830 was a little more than 13,000,000
riksdalers, rose in 1850 to about 37,000,000, in 1870
to 92,281,084, and in 1871 to 105,000,000 of riks-
dalers (of 1 fr. 41+c.), or more than 148,000,000
francs. – The increase of commerce in Sweden
was the natural consequence of the growth of popu-
lation and the progress of industry. Importation
has, since 1852, progressed at the following rate:
In 1852, 43,573,000 riksdalers riksmynt; in 1861,
106,570,000; in 1871, 169,179,000. Exports have
increased in the following proportion: in 1852,
41,487,000 riksdalers rm.; in 1861, 81,084,000; in
1871, 161,023,000 rd. In 1836 the merchant marine
numbered 1,809 vessels, carrying 63,874 lasts. (The
last is equal to two English tons.) In 1856 it rose
to 3,020 vessels, carrying 138,793 lasts; in 1861 to
3,313 vessels carrying 153,426 lasts; in 1871, to
3,495 vessels, carrying 113,112 nylasts (of about
3+ tons). In 1861 Sweden possessed, besides, 219
merchant steamers, having 8,970 horse power;
and in 1871, 406 steamers, of 12,450 horse power.—
Notwithstanding the decrease in duties the prod-
uct of the customs increased five-fold in twenty-
five years. It reached 16,500,000 riksdalers in
1874. — The railway system of the state covers
more than 1,250 kilometres, and that of private
companies, 660 kilometres. The number of trav-
elers was 1,593,141 in 1870; merchandise trans-
ported amounted to 16,764,820 quintals (10,829,419
in 1867); the gross receipts were 6,791,193 riks-
dalers, and the expenditures absorbed 53 per cent.
of the receipts. The traveler now reaches Stock-
holm from Malmö in twenty hours, Göteborg from
Stockholm in twelve hours, and Christiania from
Stockholm in fifteen hours (since June 16, 1872).-
The telegraphic lines were (1874) 7,057 kilometres
long; there were 306 offices, which dispatched, in
1871, 418,161 telegrams in the interior, and which
received from abroad or sent abroad 190,853 tele-
grams.— The circulation of letters for the same
year was nearly twelve and a half millions.”
B. AND T.
* The commercial intercourse of Sweden is chiefly with
Great Britain, as regards exports, and, next to it, with France
and Denmark. As regards imports, the commercial inter-
course is largest with Great Britain, Germany, Denmark,
Russia, Norway and the United States, in the order here in-
dicated. The imports consist mainly of textile manufact-
ures, coal, and colonial merchandise, the last largely on the
increase, while the staple exports are timber, bar iron and
corn. Both the imports and exports more than doubled in
the ten years from 1870 to 1880, the total imports rising from
387,500,000 to over £16,000,000, and the total exports from
45,000,000 to £12,500,000. — The commercial navy of Sweden,
SWITZERLAND. A federative republic, sit-
uated in the centre of Germany. — I. Territory
at the end of 1880, numbered 4,385 vessels, of a burden of
560,693 tons, of which total 3,613 vessels, of 474,095 tons
burden, were sailing vessels, and 772 vessels, of 86,598 tons
burden, were steamers. The port of Göteborg had the larg-
est shipping in 1879, namely, 277 vessels, of 87,674 tons, and
next to it came Stockholm, possessing 253 vessels, of a total
burden of 31,668 tons. In 1864 Stockholm had 110 vessels, of
28,216 tons, registered for foreign trade, and Göteborg 124,
of 35,626 tons: so that the shipping of the latter port showed
the largest increase in the course of the fourteen years. —
Mining is one of the most important departments of Swedish
industry, and the working of the iron mines in particular
is making constant progress by the introduction of new
machinery. There were raised in the year 1878, throughout
the kingdom, 15,821,520 cwt. of iron ore from mines, besides
115,585 cwt. from lake and bog. The pig iron produced
amounted to 7,845,578 cwt., the cast goods to 489,454 cwt.,
the bar iron to 4,657,060 cwt., and the steel to 1,476,061 cwt.
There were also raised in the same year, 2,983 lbs. of silver,
25,565 cwt. of copper, and 947,635 cwt. of zinc ore. There
are not inconsiderable veins of coal in the southern parts of
Sweden, giving 4,429,889 Swedish cubic feet of coal in 1878.
— Within recent years a network of railways, very important
for the trade and industry of Sweden, has been constructed
in the country, partly at the cost of the state. The state rail-
ways include all the main or trunk lines, the chief of which
are the North Western, connecting the capitals of Sweden
and of Norway; the Western, between Stockholm and Göte-
borg; the Southern, terminating at Malmö, opposite Copen-
hagen; the Eastern, from Stockholm to Malmö; and the
Northern, passing from Stockholm, and connecting the cap-
ital with the north of the kingdom. The following table
gives particulars concerning the length and cost of construc-
tion of all the Swedish railways open for traffic on Jan. 1,
1880, distinguishing the railways belonging to the state, and
the private railways :
Length Cost
RAILWAYS in Eng. |per Eng
Miles. Mile.
State railways -------------------------- ...] 1,203 || 0 8,446
Private railways :
Gefle-Dala -------------------------------- 57 9,023
Upsala-Gefle------------------------------ 81 5,160
Frovi-Ludvika---------------------------- 61 10,249
East Vermland--------------------------- 42 5,371
Kaping-Huit------------------------------ 44 6,968
Stockholm-Vestěras-Bergslagen.---------- 151 4,787
Nora-Karlskoga and Nora Ervalla--------- 81 5,697
Vestervik-Atwidoberg-Bersbo ------------- 57 --------
|Uddevalla-Venersborg-Herrljunga -------- 58 4,615
Nässjö-Oskarshamn ---------------------- 92 6,551
Vexjö-Karlskrona ------------------------ 70 4,084
Oxelösund-Flen-Westmanland ------------ 97 6,816
Karlshamn-Vislanda ---------------------- 48 2,670
Hessleholm-Helsingborg------------------ 49 4,630
Bergslagernas ---------------------------- 302 7,400
Ystad–Eslöf------------------------------- 47' 4,535
Forty-seven other private lines.------------ 988 |--------
Total.--------------------------------- 3,528 ||--------
In the end of 1881 the total length of the railways of Sweden
opened for traffic had increased to 3,830 English miles, of
which 1,365 miles belonged to the state. — All the telegraphs
in Sweden, with the exception of those of private railway
companies, belong to the state. The total length of all the
telegraph lines at the end of 1881 was 11,598 kilometres, or
7,210 English miles, and the total length of telegraph wires
29,575 kilometres, or 18,380 English miles. The number of
telegraphic dispatches sent in the year 1881 was 1,118,081, of
which number 591,576 were from and for Sweden, 398,534
from and for other countries, and 128,271 in transit. — The
Swedish postoffice carried 68,731,121 letters, post cards, jour
nals, etc., in the year 1881. - The number of postoffices at
the end of the year was 1,835. The total receipts of the post-
office in 1880 amounted to 5,132,211 kroner, or £285,122, and
the total expenditure to 4,463,283 kroner, or £247,960, leav-
ing a surplus of 668,928 kroner, or £37,162.
SWITZERLAND.
841
and Population. The territorial extent of Switz-
erland, according to the figures of the federal
topographical bureau, is 41,148 Square kilometres.
According to the census of Dec. 11, 1870, the pop-
ulation was 2,669,147. The following table shows,
by cantons, the territorial extent, the number of
the population, and the religion of the inhabitants,
at that date : -

CANTONs. Kiš. S. Poº:: OIl. Catholics. | Protestants.
Zürich--------------------------------------------------------------- 1,723 284,786 17,942 263,730
Berne----------------------------------------------------------------| 6,889 506,465 66,015 436,304
Lucerne-------------------------------------------------------------- 1,501 132,338 128,338 3,823
ri------------------------------------------------------------------- ,076 16,107 16,018 80
*::it:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: § | #: #; .
PPet --------------------------------------------------- º º
Unterwald: Lower--------------------------------------------------- 290 11,701 11,632 66
Glarus --------------------------------------------------------------- 691 35,150 6,888 28,238
Żug------------------------------------------------------------------ 239 20,993 20,082 878
Fribourg------------------------------------------------------------- 1,669 110,832 93,951 16,819
Solothurn------------------------------------------------------------ 785 74,713 62,072 12,448
Basel } Town--------------------------------------------------------- 37 47,760 12,301 34,457
Country ------------------------------------------------------ 421 4,127 10,245. 43,523
schaffhanº; --------------------------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ; #; § #;
xterior ------------------------------------------------- º s 3.
Appenzell: ;......: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 159 11,909 11,720 188
St. Gallen------------------------------------------------------------ 2,019 191,015 116,060 74,573
Grisons-------------------------------------------- ------------------ 7,185 91,782 9,843 51,887
Aargau--------------------------------------------------------------- 1,405 198,873 89,180 107,703
Thurgau ------------------------------------------------------------- 988 93,300 23,454 69,231
Tessin --------------------------------------------------------------- 2,836 119,619 119,349 194
Vaud ---------------------------------------------------------------- 3,223 231,700 17,592 211,686
Valais --------------------------------------------------------------- 5,247 96,887 95,963 900
Neufchâtel--------------------------------------------------- -------- 808 97,284 11,345 84,334
Geneva ---------------------------- -(- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 283 93,239 47,868 43,639
Total.------------------------------------------------------------ 41,418 2,669,147 1,084,369 1,566,347
By adding to the Catholics and Protestants 11,435
adherents of different Christian sects and 6,996
Israelites, we find the total population at the date
above mentioned. In 1880 the population was
2,846,102, of whom 1,394,626 were males, and
1,451,476 females. The number of Protestants
amounted to 1,667,109; of Roman Catholics, to
1,160,782; and of Jews, to 7,373. — As regards lan-
guage, there are in Switzerland, out of a hundred
households, sixty-nine in which German is spoken,
twenty-four speaking French, five Italian and two
Roman. In five cantons, Berne, Fribourg, Gri-
sons, Tessin and Valais, several languages are
spoken. In the cantons of Vaud, Neufchâtel and
Geneva, only French is spoken; in the other four-
teen, the German language is the only one used. —
The first general census of the Swiss population
dates only from 1836. It must be remarked, how-
ever, that previous censuses were taken in many
cantons; there are some which go back to the six-
teenth century. In 1836 the population was esti-
mated at 2,190,258 souls; in 1850, at 2,390,116; in
1860, at 2,510,494; in 1870, at 2,669,147. The
percentage of increase is : 1836–50, 9.12; 1850–60,
5.04; 1860–70, 6.46. — II. Federal Comstitution.
The present constitution of the confederation,
adopted Sept. 18, 1848, has undergone a total re-
vision. The revision received the sanction of the
federal chambers, Jan. 31, 1874. The vote of the
people took place April 19 following, and the vote
of the chambers was fully confirmed. — The con-
federation has for its object to assure the inde-
pendence of the country against foreigners, to
maintain order and tranquillity at home, to pro-
tect the liberty and the rights of the citizens, and
to increase their common welfare. All Swiss are
equal before the law. There are in Switzerland
neither subjects nor privileges of any sort. The
confederation guarantees to the cantons their ter-
ritory, their sovereignty within the limits of the
federal pact, the liberty and rights of the citizens,
as well as the rights and the functions which the
people have conferred on the authorities. The
cantons are obliged to demand of the constitution
the guarantee of their constitutions; this is granted
to the constitutions which contain nothing Con-
trary to the provisions of the federal public law,
which assure the exercise of public rights accord-
ing to republican forms that have been accepted
by the people, with power of revision when the
absolute majority of the citizens demand it. All
special alliance and all treaties of a political na-
ture between cantons are forbidden. On the other
hand, the cantons have the right to conclude
among themselves agreements concerning the ob-
jects of legislation, of administration and of jus-
tice; they must, however, bring them to the knowl-
edge of the federal authority, which, if these
agreements contain provisions contrary to the con-
federation or the rights of other cantons, may pre-
vent their being carried into execution. The con-
federation alone has the right to declare war and
to conclude peace or alliances and treaties with
foreign countries. The cantons, however, preserve
the right to conclude treaties with foreign states in
regard to certain special objects. Military capitu-
lations can not be concluded. The members of
the federal authorities, the civil and military func-
tionaries of the confederation, the representatives,
or the federal commissioners, can not receive pen-
sions or salaries, nor titles, presents or decorations,
from a foreign government. The federal author-
ity has not the right to maintain a standing army.
No canton or demi-canton can have more than 300
842
SWITZERLAND.
men, without the permission of the federal power.
When differences arise between cantons, the latter
can not decide them themselves, but must submit
to the decision taken conformably to the federal
provisions. When there is danger from without,
the government of the canton threatened must ask
for the aid of the confederation, and immediately
advise the central authority of it, all without prej-
udice to the action which it may take in case of
urgency. The expense of federal intervention is
supported by the confederation. In case of trouble
at home, or when the danger comes from another
canton, the government of the canton threatened
must immediately advise the federal council, which
takes the necessary measures within the limits of
its authority, or convokes the federal assembly.
When it is urgent, the government is authorized,
immediately advising the federal council of it, to
call for the aid of the other cantons; this aid can
not be refused. When the government of the can-
ton attacked is not in a state to ask assistance, the
federal central authority intervenes by virtue of
its office, especially when the troubles endanger
Switzerland. — The confederation guarantees to
the Swiss the right of settling freely throughout
the whole extent of its territory. Every citizen of
a canton is a Swiss citizen, and can, by virtue of
that title, exercise political rights for federal af-
fairs in whatever canton he is established. The
canton in which a Swiss establishes his domicile
can not exact from him a bail bond, nor impose
upon him any particular charge by reason of es-
tablishment. In the same way the communes can
not impose upon Swiss domiciled in their territory
taxes other than those imposed upon citizens be-
longing to their own jurisdiction. As for the lib-
eral professions, legislation provides what proofs
of fitness shall be valid for all Switzerland. For-
eigners can not be naturalized in a canton, unless
they have ceased to belong to the state of which
they are natives. Liberty of conscience and of
belief is inviolable. No one can be forced to form
part of a religious association, to submit to relig-
ious instruction ; nor shall he incur penalties of
any nature because of his religious opinions. Who-
ever exercises the authority of a parent or a guard-
ian, has the right to dispose, conformably to the
above principles, of the education of the children
up to the age of fourteen. —The exercise of civil
or political rights can not be restricted by pre-
scriptions or conditions of an ecclesiastical or re-
ligious nature of any sort. No one can, because
of his religious opinions, be freed from the per-
formance of a civic duty. No one is bound to pay
taxes, whose product is applied to the expenses of
the worship of a creed or of a religious commu-
nity to which he does not belong. The free exer-
cise of worship is guaranteed within the limits
compatible with public order and good morals. –
The liberty of the press is guaranteed, with the
reservation of the laws which must repress its
abuse; these laws are subject to the approval of
the federal council. The citizens have the right
to form associations, whose purpose and the means
employed by them have nothing illicit, or danger-
ous to the state. The cantonal laws provide for
the repression of abuses. The right of petition is
guaranteed. The abzugsrecht is abolished.*—The
confederation has the right to banish from its ter-
ritory foreigners who compromise its internal or
external security. The order of the Jesuits and
societies affiliated to it can not be received in any
part of Switzerland. This interdiction may be ex-
tended by a federal decree to other religious orders,
if they disturb the peace between the different
creeds.—The right of marriage is placed under the
protection of the confederation. No hindrance to
marriage can be based upon religious motives, up-
on the poverty of either the man or the woman, up-
on their conduct, or upon any other police motive
whatever. No charge for a marriage license, nor
any similar tax, can be collected from either bride
or groom.—The confederation has also, according
to the new constitution, the right to establish uni-
form provisions in regard to the work of children
in factories, and in regard to the hours of labor
which shall be imposed upon adults in the facto-
ries, as well as, in general, in regard to the protec-
tion to be accorded to workmen against unhealthy
and dangerous industries.— Legislation in regard
to the construction and management of railroads.
comes within the sphere of the confederation.
Formerly this matter belonged to the province of
the cantons, which caused much confusion.—The
confederation may order at its own expense, or en-
courage by subsidies, public works which interest.
Switzerland or a considerable part of the country.
It has the right of surveillance of the police of
dams and forests in the mountainous regions; it
contributes to the correction in the courses of
streams, to their damming up, as well as to the re-
wooding of the regions where they have their
source ; it decrees measures necessary to assure
the maintenance of these works and the preserva-
tion of the existing forests. It establishes legis-
lative provisions to protect the birds useful to ag-
riculture and sylviculture, and to regulate fishing
and hunting. — The supreme authority of the
confederation is exercised by the federal assem-
bly, which is composed of two sections, or coun-
cils, namely, the national council and the state
council. — The national council is composed of
deputies of the Swiss people, elected one out of
every 20,000 inhabitants of the total population.
Fractions over and above 10,000 inhabitants are:
counted as if they were 20,000. Each canton,
and, in the cantons divided into two states, each
half canton, elects one deputy at least. The elec-
tions for the national council are direct. They
take place in the federal electoral colleges, which
can not, however, be formed of parts of different
cantons. Every Swiss has the right to vote, who
is twenty years of age, and from whom the legis-
lation of the canton in which he lives has not
taken away the right of an active citizen. (This
*The abzugsrecht is the old right of the state to confiscate
a certain part of the fortune of a citizen Who proposes to
leave the country.
SWITZERLAND.
843
right is taken away only from those who have
been deprived of civic rights by virtue of the penal
law and in consequence of a judicial sentence,
Sometimes also from insolvents and paupers.)
Every Swiss citizen who is a layman having the
right to vote, is eligible as a member of the na-
tional council. Swiss who have become citizens
by naturalization, are not eligible until five years
after they have become citizens. The national
council is elected for three years, and is wholly re-
newed at the expiration of that term. The depu-
ties to the state council, the members of the fed-
eral council, and the functionaries appointed by
that council, can not be at the same time members
of the national council. The latter chooses from
its own body, for each ordinary or extraordinary
session, a president and a vice-president, who can
not be charged with this function during two con-
secutive ordinary sessions. In case of a tie, the
president has the deciding vote. The members
of the national council receive a compensation
from the federal treasury of fourteen francs a day.
—The state council is composed of forty-four
deputies of the cantons. Each canton appoints
two deputies; in the divided cantons, each half
canton elects one. The members of the national
council and those of the federal council can not
be at the same time deputies to the state council.
The state council chooses, from its own body, for
each session, a president and a vice-president ;
neither can be elected from among the deputies
of the canton which furnished the president or
vice-president of the preceding ordinary Session.
The deputies of the state council receive a salary
from their respective cantons. Every Swiss citi-
zen having the right to vote is eligible to it, the
same as to the national council. The members of
the state council are appointed by various meth-
ods, which are as follows: The little cantons, in
which the people assemble annually, in a general
assembly (landsgemeinde, see below), have their
deputies to the state council appointed by the
assembly. The citizens vote by raising up the
hand for such or such a candidate. In the can-
tons of Zürich, Thurgau, Basel-Country, etc., the
whole canton forms but one district for the nom-
ination of members of the state council. The
votes are deposited in the ballot box of the com-
mune. These votes are collected and counted by
a cantonal board. Finally, in the cantons which
have preserved the purely representative system,
such as Geneva, Fribourg, Tessin, etc., the great
council appoints the deputies to the state council.
The simple majority of voters always decides the
election. — Fédéral Assembly. The national coun-
cil and the state council deliberate upon : 1, the
laws relating to the organization and relation of
the authorities of the confederation ; 2, the laws
and decrees upon all matters which, according to
the federal constitution, come within the jurisdic-
tion of the confederation; 3, the salaries and com-
pensation of the members of the authorities of
the confederation ; 4, the election of the federal
council, of the federal tribunal, of the chancellor
and of the commander-in-chief of the army; 5,
the alliances and treaties with foreign states; 6,
the measures for the external safety, as well as for
the maintenance of the independence and of the
neutrality,” of Switzerland, the declarations of
war and the conclusion of peace; 7, the guarantee
of the constitutions and of the territory of the can-
tons, intervention in consequence of this guaran-
tee, the measures for the internal safety of Switz-
erland, for the maintenance of tranquillity and
of order, and amnesty and the exercise of the right
of pardon; 8, the measures necessary to make the
federal constitution respected ; 9, the legislative
provisions touching the federal army; 10, the fix-
ing of the annual budget of the confederation,
the ratification of the accounts, and the provis-
ions concerning loans; 11, the surveillance of the
administration and of federal justice; 12, the
exceptions taken to the decisions of the federal
council made in matters of contentious adminis-
tration; 13, the conflicts of jurisdiction between
the authorities of the confederation; 14, the re-
vision of the federal constitution. — The two
councils assemble each year in ordinary session.
They are convoked in extraordinary session by the
federal council, or upon the demand of a fourth
of the members of the national council, or upon
that of five cantons. Federal laws, federal de-
crees or regulations can not be promulgated except
with the consent of the two councils. Besides
this, the federal laws which are not urgent must
be submitted to the vote of the entire nation, if
30,000 active citizens or eight cantons demand it.
The imperative mandate is not allowed. Each
council deliberates separately. When there is a
question, however, of the elections of the federal
council, of the exercise of the right of pardon or
of pronouncing upon a conflict of jurisdiction, the
two councils unite to deliberate in common, under
the direction of the president of the national coun-
cil, and the majority of the voting members of
the two councils decides. The initiative belongs
to each council and to each of its members. The
sessions of each of the councils are ordinarily
public. — The directorial and executive authority
of the confederation is exercised by a federal
council, composed of seven members, appointed for
three years, and chosen from among all the Swiss
citizens eligible to the national council. However,
not more than one member of the federal council
can be chosen in the same canton. The federal
council is re-elected after each renewal of the
national council, but its members are re-eligible
indefinitely. During their term of office the mem-
bers of the federal council can not accept any
other office, either in the service of the confeder-
ation or in a canton, nor follow any other career
or practice a profession. The president of the
confederation, who presides over the federal coun-
cil, and the vice-president, are appointed for a
year from among the members of the council ;
* The act which establishes the neutrality of Switzerland
is dated Nov. 20, 1815.
844
SWITZERLAND.
but neither can be re-elected the following year.
The members of the federal council have a con-
sulting voice in the two sections of the federal as-
sembly, as well as the right to make propositions
there in regard to the subject under deliberation.
The principal functions of the federal council are
the following: it directs federal affairs; watches
Over the observance of the constitution; presents
bills; gives its advice upon propositions which are
addressed to it by the councils or by the cantons,
provides for the execution of laws, judgments
and sentences; makes those appointments which
it is not provided shall be made by the federal
assembly or some other authority; examines the
treaties of the cantons with one another or with
foreign states; watches over the interests of the
confederation abroad, etc. In case of urgency,
the federal council is authorized to raise the nec-
essary troops and to dispose of them; but it must
immediately convoke the councils if the number
of troops raised exceeds 20,000 men, or if they
remain under arms for more than three weeks.
It administers the finances of the confederation,
proposes the budget, and renders the account of
the receipts and expenditures; it watches over the
management of all the functionaries of the fed-
eral administration, as well as the branches of
the cantonal administration which the laws have
placed under its control, such as the military, the
customs, roads and bridges. The federal council
must annually present to the federal assembly a
report upon the situation of the confederation,
both at home and abroad. — The three principal
languages spoken in Switzerland, German, French
and Italian, are national languages of the confed-
eration. — All functionaries are responsible for
their administration of affairs. — The federal con-
stitution can be revised at any time. When a sec-
tion of the federal assembly decrees the revision
of the constitution, and the other section does not
consent to it, or when 50,000 Swiss citizens having
the right to vote demand the revision, the ques-
tion is submitted to the vote of the Swiss people,
and they vote yes or no. If the majority of Swiss
citizens voting pronounce in the affirmative, the
two councils are renewed to work at the revision.
A new constitution, however, can not go into
force except when it is sanctioned both by the
majority of citizens taking part in the vote and by
the majority of the cantons. In most of the can-
tons the affirmative or negative result of the vote
of the citizens is considered as the voice of the
canton. Some cantons have charged the great
council to cast their vote for them. – III. Can-
tonal Constitutions. Revisions of the fundamen-
tal pact are made quite often in Switzerland; this
is why most of the cantonal constitutions are of
quite a recent date. Ordinarily these revisions
are accompanied by a more or less profound agi-
tation; but excess is very rare, because the people
are accustomed to the use of liberty. From 1830
up to the end of June, 1873, there were in Switz-
erland, according to statistics prepared by Pro-
fessor G. Vogt, eighty-three total or partial re-
visions of cantonal constitutions.
If we subtract
the partial revisions, numbering twenty-three,
which are sometimes of little importance, we see
that on an average a cantonal constitution only
lasts about seventeen years, that is to say, half a
generation. The oldest constitution now in force
is that of Appenzell-Interior.—A distinction must
be made between the cantons of the purely demo-
cratic system, in which all the citizens assemble
personally in a general assembly called landsge-
meinde, the cantons in which the electors themselves
oote or reject the proposed laws elaborated by the
great councils, and the cantons of the representa-
tive system. Of course, the first system is found
only in the little cantons, namely: Uri, Unter-
wald (Higher and Lower), Glarus and Appenzell
(Exterior and Interior). — Professor Cherbuliez,
in his work, La Démocratie en Suisse, vol. ii., p.
122, has well described the institutions of pure
democracy in Switzerland. We do not, howev-
er, accept all his conclusions. The salient traits
which are common to the different constitutions
of pure democracy, and which impress upon them
a characteristic physiognomy, are three: the lands-
gemeinde, the council, and the commission of state;
that is, 1, an assembly of the entire people; 2, a
deliberative body, both legislative and adminis-
trative, composed of members elected by the local
assemblies (of the communes or of the districts);
and 3, executive functionaries appointed by the
people. The landsgemeinde exercises two equally
important functions. First, it elects the principal
functionaries of the canton, especially the land-
ammann and his substitute (landesstatthalter), the
treasurer (seckelmeister), the chief of the cantonal
militia (landeshauptmann), and some other func-
tionaries, whose jurisdiction is cantonal. It also
appoints the deputies for the Swiss national coun-
cil and state council. Then, to it belongs the
sanction of all cantonal laws and of all treaties
which the state concludes with other cantons or
with foreign states. The citizens vote by raising
the hand. — It exercises, therefore, the legislative
power in this sense, that it accepts or rejects, as a
whole, the propositions which are made to it, with-
out having the power to introduce changes in
them. The state of Glarus, however, must be
excepted from this rule. Article forty-four of
the constitution says: “The landsgemeinde can
adopt, modify or reject the propositions which are
made to it, or refer them to the triple council
finally, either to report on them, or to decide.”
Everywhere the propositions to be submitted to
the landsgemeinde must be made public a certain
time in advance. We shall also cite, concerning
the landsgemeinde, an article of the constitution of
the canton of Uri. After providing, “The peo-
ple are responsible only to God and their con-
sciences for the exercise of their sovereignty in
the May assembly,” it adds: “What must guide
the May assembly is not, however, caprice, with-
out limit and without condition; it is justice and
the good of the state, which are alone compatible
with it. The people are obliged to vote accord-
SWITZERLAND.
845
ing to these principles in taking annually the oath
of the May assembly.”— The administrative pow-
er (in part even the legislative power) is ordinarily
confided to quite a numerous council, called rath,
or landrath. The functions of this body are or.
dinarily the following: It watches over enforce-
ment of the constitution, whether federal or can-
tonal ; it regulates, in their general organization,
public instruction, financial, military and sanitary
administration, public works, charity, except the
legal provisions regarding the province and obli-
gations of inferior authorities; it receives the re-
ports of the administration of all the functionaries
of the canton; it deliberates upon the proposed
laws to be presented to the landsgemeinde, through
the intermediary of the triple council, of which
we shall speak further on. Usually it watches
Over the execution of what the laws or decrees of
the landsgemeinde prescribe to it. In the canton
of Unterwald-Lower the council has, besides, ju-
dicial functions. In Glarus, Uri and Unterwald,
there have been organized, side by side with the
landrath, special authorities to which have been
transferred all the judicial functions formerly
granted to the landrath. — About the landrath are
grouped in the pure democracies various bodies,
evidently formed from it by addition or reduction.
The double and the triple, or great, council are
nothing but the council of the landrath itself,
doubled or tripled by the addition of new mem-
bers, whom the territorial divisions appoint in the
same manner and in the same proportion as the
first. In Glarus, for example, each local assem-
bly (tagwen) adds two members to the one which
it appoints, to form the simple council. Thus the
triple council there is composed of 117 members,
as follows: 1, of the nine members of the com-
mission of state; 2, of thirty-five members ap-
pointed by the tagwen following fixed proportions;
3, of seventy members appointed by the same as-
'semblies, following the same proportions; 4, final-
ly, of three Catholic members appointed by the
same council, and of which one forms a part.
(This latter element was introduced by virtue of
the principle of religious equality, in order to
provide for the representation of the Catholic
population in the communes in which they are in
a minority.) The principal functions of the triple
council are to watch Over the council and the tri-
bunals, to establish the project of the budget of
receipts and expenditures, and to convoke the
landsgemeinde in extraordinary assembly. The
process of addition is applied in many ways in
Appenzell-Interior; it is applied in particular to
the little council, which is charged with the prin-
cipal judicial functions. This body judges some-
times as a weekly council; it is then only a sec-
tion of the little council; sometimes with a sim-
ple addition (einfacher 2wºug); sometimes with a
double addition (doppelter 27/27/g); sometimes with
a re-enforced addition (verstärkter zuzug). Finally,
with a last re-enforcement it forms what is called
the council of blood (blutrath). — As there are
councils formed by addition, so there are others
formed by reduction, as, for example, the weekly
council of Unterwald-Lower. It is appointed by
the great council (landrath) and chosen from its
body. It is the executive, administrative and
police authority, subordinated to the great coun-
cil. It is composed of the landammann, as presi-
dent, and of twelve members appointed for two
years. It assembles in ordinary session on the
Monday of each week, and in extraordinary sess
sion when convoked by the president, and as
often as there is need. — We have still to speak of
the third authority of pure democracy, the com-
mission of state. It is appointed by the landsge-
meinde, and replaces the council for affairs of
lesser importance. In Glarus this commission is
divided into two sections, to expedite business.
The first is composed of all the members of the
commission, and the second of three members,
the president included, alternating among them-
selves after a manner of rotation established by
the commission. The first section (or the com-
mission in pleno) is charged with the correspond-
ence with foreign states, the federal authorities
and the confederated states, with giving prelimi-
nary advice upon questions referred to it, or even
with deciding them by the council. The second
section is charged with the ratification of deeds
of sale and of wills, with decisions upon the
prolongation of the terms for the liquidation of
bankrupt estates, etc. The commission of state of
Appenzell-Exterior has also the surveillance of the
administration of the communes. The landam-
mann presides over the landsgemeinde, the double
or triple council, the council (landrath) and the
commission of state. He receives all the dis-
patches addressed to the authorities presided over
by him, and he is bound to make them known
in the next session. He keeps the seal of state,
signs and seals concordats and conventions, etc.
He watches over the execution of the decrees of
the landsgemeinde, the councils, and the commis-
sion of state, in so far as the execution is not in-
trusted to a special authority. — Let us pass on to
the cantons in which there is no landsgemeindé.
Here we must notice a very remarkable fact.
Since 1863 the cantons of Zürich, Berne, Solo-
thurn, Basel-Country, Aargau and Thurgau have
replaced the representative system, which they
followed up to that time, by the direct vote of the
entire people, that is to say, of all the active citi-
zens, upon the proposed laws (referendum). Only
the cantons of Zug, Fribourg, Basel-City, Tessin
and Geneva have resisted this political movement,
tending to extend the exercise of the rights of the
people. In the canton of Vaud they contented
themselves with introducing into the constitution
the right of initiative, and Valais and Neufchâtel
recognize only a partial referendum. For a long
time the great councils have been only deliberat-
ing authorities in the cantons of Schwyz and
Grisons. Basel-Country first followed them in
this respect. In the cantons of Lucerne, Schaff-
hausen and St. Gallen, the people do not positive-
ly sanction the laws, as in the cantons of the
846
SWITZERLAND.
Teferendum, but, during a certain time after the
vote of the great council, they have the right to
interpose a veto. — Trepresentation in the great
council is not always based upon the number
of the population ; sometimes it is determined by
the number of active citizens; at other times, as
in Lucerne, the number of the representatives is
fixed by the constitution, without any regard to
the number of the population. The members of
the great council are not always salaried. Every
active citizen is ordinarily eligible for the great
council. Sometimes conditions of age are im-
posed, sometimes also a residence in the Canton is
required. The last vestiges of a property qualifi-
cation have disappeared. In Some cantons func-
tionaries salaried by the state are excluded. The
constitution of Neufchâtel provides that every
member of the great council who, during his term
of office, accepts public salaried functions, shall
be considered as having resigned, but he is re-
eligible. — The members of the great council are
appointed for only one year in the canton of Gri-
sons; for two in Zug and Geneva; for three in
Basel-Country, St. Gallen, Zürich and Thurgau ;
for four in Berne, Aargau, Tessin, Vaud, Valais
and Neufchâtel; and for five in Fribourg. — The
great council, besides drafting the laws and de-
crees, and interpreting, suspending and repealing
them, is ordinarily invested with the following
functions: the organization of administrations, the
surveillance of the execution of the laws, the
right of pardon, the ratification of state agree-
ments, naturalization, the establishment of im-
posts and taxes, the fixing the mode of their col-
lection and employment, the ratification of the
loans contracted by the state, the acquisition and
alienation of property of the state, public build-
ings, the fixing of salaries and emoluments, the
surveillance of the executive and judicial powers,
the settlement of conflicts of jurisdiction between
these powers, the fixing of the annual budget, the
appointment of the deputies to the state council,
and the appointment of the members of the ex-
ecutive power and of the supreme tribunal. In
Geneva, Basel-Country, Thurgau, and Zürich, the
members of the executive power are appointed
directly by the people. —The committee to which
the great council confides the executive and ad-
ministrative power has different names, according
to the different cantons. It is called sometimes
council of state, sometimes executive council,
and sometimes little council. This last name is
old; it recalls the time before 1830, when this des-
ignation was found in almost all the cantons, and
when the executive power was confided to a very
numerous body. In recent times there has every-
where been a reduction in the number of the
members of the executive council (ordinarily five
to seven members, who distribute among them-
selves the different departments, interior, justice,
instruction, etc.), and a higher salary has been
granted to them, in order that the increase of
work and responsibility imposed upon each of the
members by the diminution of their number may
not turn away from these functions the most ca-
pable men. — The duties and powers of the coun-
cil of State, or executive council, are almost the
same as those of the commissions of state in the
Cantons of pure democracy. It proposes laws
and decrees to the great council, and watches
over the maintenance of public tranquillity and
security, as well as over the execution of the
laws, decrees and regulations of the great coun-
cil; it administers the funds of the state, appoints
those executive and administrative functiona-
ries who are immediately subordinate to it, and
watches over them; it has also the higher surveil-
lance of the communal administrations, the poor,
the schools and the churches. The members of
the executive council are appointed for four years
in most of the representative cantons; they are
re-eligible; only the president or landammann (a
title which is preserved in some cantons) can not
ordinarily remain in office for more than one year.
Some constitutions require that each district of
the canton be represented by one member ; others
forbid the taking of two members from the same
district. Cantonal elections take place for mem-
bers of the great council, in the electoral circum-
scriptions prescribed by law ; for the appoint-
ment of the members of the executive power,
where it is not confided to the great councils, the
whole canton forms only one electoral circum-
scription. Every elector receives a card of recog-
nition, which he presents to the electoral board
when placing his vote in the ballot box. For
every commune of any extent there are sever-
al boards, in order to facilitate the business of
counting the vote. — IV. Administration. All
the cantons of a certain extent are divided into
districts. Thus, Berne has thirty ; Vaud, nine-
teen ; St. Gallen, fifteen ; Zürich and Aargau,
eleven, etc. In these districts the government,
that is to say, the administrative and executive
authority, is represented by a prefect (regierungs-
statthalter, or statthalter). Although agents of the
executive council, they are not always appointed
by it, but sometimes by the great council, often
directly by the people. Besides the prefect, there
is, above all in eastern Switzerland, the institu-
tion of district councils, which have sometimes
quite extensive functions. If the government
does not always appoint the district authorities,
it has ordinarily still less influence over the com-
munes. We say ordinarily, because there is a
very remarkable difference in this respect between
the cantons of Romanic Switzerland and of Ger-
manic Switzerland. In the former, the communes
are much less independent than in the latter. In
the cantons of Appenzell and of Grisons they are,
so to speak, sovereign; they may do whatever is
not contrary to the federal and cantonal constitu-
tions, to the laws and to the right of property of
a third party; the state does not interfere. These
communes administer their special interests in
everything except in that with which the state
has not expressly charged itself. These two can-
tons are evidently in Some sort federations of
SWITZERLAND.
847
communes. – At the head of the commune is
a chief hauptmann (Appenzell), syndio (Tessin
and Vaud), maïre (Geneva), ammann (Lucerne,
Fribourg, Solothurn, St. Gallen, Aargau and
Thurgau), or president (in all the other cantons).
He is always appointed by the commune; and
Ordinarily supported by a communal or munic-
ipal council, of which he is the leading member.
This council administers, within the limits fixed by
law and under the control of the general assembly,
all that enters into the province of the municipal-
ity, proposes the budget, collects the taxes and
municipal revenues, controls guardians, and exer-
cises the local police and other functions which
the laws and ordinances place in the charge of the
municipalities, and which have to do particularly
with the public safety and health, with the fire
police, with that of the taxes and of the fairs
and markets. At the same time the municipal
Council is the agent of the government; its presi-
dent represents in the municipality the prefect,
whom he must second in the execution of the
laws and ordinances. The state has often no par-
ticular receiver for its taxes, and the municipal
receivers collect them for it. — W. Justice. For
the administration of justice in federal matters,
there is a special tribunal. There is besides a jury
for criminal matters. The federal tribunal is com-
posed of eleven members, with substitutes. The
members of the federal tribunal and the substi-
tutes are appointed for three years by the federal
assembly. The federal tribunal is renewed after
each renewal of the national council (but the
members are re-eligible). Any Swiss eligible to
the national council can be appointed to the fed-
eral tribunal; the members of the federal council,
however, and the functionaries appointed by this
authority can not at the same time form a part of
the federal tribunal. The president and the vice-
president are appointed each for a year, from
among the members of the body. — As a court of
civil justice, the federal tribunal takes cognizance:
1. In so far as they do not touch upon public law,
of the differences between cantons, and between
the confederation and the cantons; 2. Of differ-
ences between the confederation on the one side,
and corporations or individuals on the other, when
these corporations or these individuals are plaint-
iffs, and when it is a matter of important ques-
tions determined by the federal legislation; 3. Of
differences concerning people without a country
(helmathlose). The federal tribunal is obliged to
assume jurisdiction in other cases, when the par-
ties desire it, and when the object in litigation ex-
ceeds the value of 3,000 francs. According to
the new constitution of the confederation, which
went into force July 1, 1874, the federal tribunal
takes cognizance also of : 1, differences in regard
to their functions between the authorities of the
confederation and the cantons; 2, differences
touching public law between the cantons; and 3,
cases concerning the violation of the constitu-
tional rights of a citizen. This is a very notable
extension of the province of the federal tribunal.
–As a court of criminal justice, the federal tri-
bunal takes cognizance of the violation of the
rights guaranteed by the constitution, when the
complaints are referred to it by the federal assem-
bly. The court of assizes, with the assistance of
a jury which pronounces upon questions of fact,
takes cognizance of criminal cases concerning
functionaries, of cases brought by the federal au-
thority which appointed them ; of cases of high
treason against the confederation ; of revolt or
of violence against the federal authorities; of
crimes or misdemeanors against international law;
finally, of political misdemeanors which are the
cause of troubles by which an armed federal
intervention has been occasioned. The federal as-
sembly can always accord amnesty or grant par-
don to the perpetrator of these crimes or misde-
meanors. — Military justice is administered by a
judicial staff, which has at its head an auditor
in chief, having the rank of colonel. A military
tribunal must be established in each brigade in
active service. — The judicial organization differs
materially in the different cantons. In some can-
tons of pure democracy, the legislative, executive
and judicial powers are not yet thoroughly sepa-
rated, as we have seen above (Cantonal Constitu-
tions). The following is true of the great cantons.
Civil questions are ordinarily first brought before
the justice of the peace. If it is not possible to
reconcile the parties, the questions are carried be.
fore a district court, and in the second resort before
the cantonal court, the Supreme court or court of
appeal. Final judgments in civil cases given in a
canton hold good throughout all Switzerland, ac-
cording to article forty-nine of the federal con-
stitution. A great number of cantons possess ex-
cellent civil codes. The tribunals of commerce
are still rather few. In criminal matters the in-
stitution of the jury exists in most of the cantons.
The members of the Supreme court are appointed
by the great council, which has also a surveillance
over the court. All administrative functions are
incompatible with the office of member of the
supreme court. To be appointed it is not neces-
sary to have regularly studied law, but of course,
in point of fact, men who are not versed in the
law are not chosen. The judges, of the inferior
tribunals are ordinarily appointed directly by the
people, sometimes also by the great council. —
The changes introduced by the new constitution
had for effect to replace the twenty-five cantonal
laws, often very dissimilar, by a federal law to
be applied to the whole confederation, so that a
uniform system is established upon the following
points: legislation in regard to civil capacity, in
regard to all matters of commercial law, in regard
to literary and artistic property, in regard to suits
for debt, and in regard to bankruptcy. The ad-
ministration of justice, however, rests with the
cantons, except as to what comes within the prov-
ince of the federal tribunal. — VI. Public In-
struction. The state of public instruction is one
of the greatest glories of Switzerland. There is
scarcely a country in which primary instruction is
848
SWITZERLAND.
more developed and more wide-spread than in the
Helvetian republic. Some little cantons, which
were backward in this respect, were forced to put
themselves on a level with the rest. It is evident
that where a people must govern themselves, they
can not remain without instruction. However, a
person is not obliged to send his children to a pub-
lic school; he is perfectly free to have them in-
structed wherever he wishes, provided they receive
an education at least as good as that which is given
in the public schools. The new federal constitu-
tion, voted by the people April 19, 1874, contains
the following provisions relative to primary in-
struction : The cantons shall provide for primary
instruction, which must be sufficient, and placed
exclusively under the direction of the civil au-
thority. It is obligatory, and, in the public
schools, gratuitous. The public Schools may be
attended by adherents of all creeds, without their
having to suffer in any way in their liberty of con-
science or of belief. The confederation shall take
the necessary measures in regard to the cantons
which do not fulfill these obligations. – Above
the elementary primary schools, there are superior
primary schools, called secondary. Then come
the schools of commerce, the agricultural and in-
dustrial schools, the normal schools in which
teachers are prepared, the gymnasiums (lyceums),
the federal polytechnic school, the cantonal uni-
versities of Basel, Zürich and Berne, and the
academies of Geneva and Lausanne. The poly-
technic school is established at Zürich. It is sub-
divided into six special schools: school of civil
building, school of civil engineering, school of
mechanics, school of chemistry, school of forestry,
and finally, a higher school of the natural and
mathematical sciences, of the literary sciences,
and of moral and political sciences. The studies
are taught in the German, French and Italian lan-
guages. The importance which is attributed in
Switzerland to good public instruction may be
judged of by some figures we shall give. In the
canton of Zürich the state and the communes
have expended annually since 1873, for public in-
struction, a sum of 1,400,000 francs, not includ-
ing the extra expenditures for the federal poly-
technic school. Not included in this sum are
the lodging; two cords of firewood and 20,000
square feet of arable land furnished by the com-
munes to each primary and higher elementary
teacher; nor is the hiring of places for schools.
Berne expends annually 2,100,000 francs for the
same purpose. Of this sum the communes pay
three-fifths, and the state furnishes the rest; St.
Gallen expends 600,000 francs; Aargau, 750,000;
Vaud, 700,000 (not including the expenses for
rent, heating, etc.); Neufchâtel and Geneva each,
400,000. For all Switzerland the total is more
than nine million francs. STOESSEL.
— VII. Finances. The public revenue of the con-
federation is derived chiefly from customs. By
the constitution of May 29, 1874, customs dues
are levied only on the frontiers of the republic, in-
stead of, as before, on the limits of each canton.
A considerable income is also derived from the
postal system, as well as from the telegraph estab-
lishment, conducted by the federal government
on the principle of uniformity of rates. The sums
raised under these heads are not left entirely
for government expenditure, but a great part of
the postal revenue, as well as a portion of the
customs dues, have to be paid over to the cantonal
administrations, in compensation for the loss of
such sources of former income. In extraordinary
cases, the federal government is empowered to
levy a rate upon the various cantons after a scale
settled for twenty years. A branch of revenue
proportionately important is derived from the
profits of various federal manufactories, and from
the military School and laboratory at Thun, near
Berne. — The following table gives the total reve-
nue and expenditure of the confederation in each
of the years 1875–82, showing actual receipts and
disbursements, except for 1882, for which the
budget estimates are given :

YEARS. Revenue. Expenditure.
I’8,Il Prancs.
1875 ----------------------------- 39,516,051 39,266,030
1876 ----------------------------- 1,487,402 42,422,017
1877 ----------------------------- 42,972,305 43,900,308
1878 ----------------------------- 41,536,225 41,469,641
1879 ----------------------------- 41,456,213 39,525,274
1880 ----------------------------- 42,511,848 41,038,228
1881 ----------------------------- 43,383,026 42,717,493
1889 ----------------------------- 41,929,000 42,294,000
The following table gives the budget estimates of
revenue for the year 1883:
Francs.
Produce of property of state---------------------- 169,279
Produce of capital invested.----------------------- 733,000
General administration--------------------------- 31,000
Military department------------------------------ 3,463,632
Financial ---------------------------------------- 7,616,000
Customs ----------------------------------------- 18,250,000
Posts -------------------------------------------- 15,442,000
Telegraphs.--------------------------------------- 2,594,700
Railways----------------------------------------- 24,750.
Commerce and agriculture------------------------ 41,500
Miscellaneous------------------------------------ 16,139
Total --------------- * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 48,382,000
The following table gives the budget estimates of
expenditure for the year 1883:
Francs.
Interest and sinking fund of national debt.------- 1,869,940
General expenses of administration.-------------- 717,600.
Departments:
Political ----------------------------------------- 337,000
Interior------------------------------------------ 3,242,332
Justice and police-------------------------------- 45,000.
Military------------------------------------------ 16,598,934
Financial ---------------------------------------- 8,202,300
Commerce and agriculture----------------------- 725,570
Posts -------------------------------------------- 14,213,000
Telegraphs.--------------------------------------- 2,571,200
Railways----------------------------------------- 140,900.
Unforeseen.--------------------------------------- 10,224
Total---------------------------------------- 48,674,000
This shows a deficit of 292,000 francs; and at the
end of the financial year 1882, there was found to be
an actual surplus of 3,000,000 francs.-The public
debt of the republic amounted, at the Commence-
SWITZERLAND.
849
ment of 1882, to 36,947,044 francs. This arises
mainly out of the conversion of three 43 per cent.
loans raised in 1867, 1871 and 1877. As a set-off
against the debt there exists a so-called “federal
fortune,” or property belonging to the state, val-
ued at 45,356,066 francs. – The various cantons
of Switzerland have, as their own local adminis-
trations, so their own budgets of revenue and
expenditure. Most of them have also public
debts, but not of a large amount, and abundantly
covered, in every instance, by cantonal property,
chiefly in land. At the end of 1882 the aggregate
debts of all the cantons amounted to about
300,000,000 francs. – The chief income of the
cantonal administrations is derived from a single
direct tax on income, amounting, in most cantons,
to 14 per cent. on every 1,000 francs property.
In some cantons the local revenue is raised, in
part, by the sale of excise licenses. In Berne they
form one-fifth of the total receipts, in Lucerne
one-seventh, in Uri one-tenth, in Unterwald one-
eighth, in Solothurn one-sixth, and in the can-
ton of Tessin one-fourteenth, of the total revenue.
— VIII. Army. The fundamental laws of the
republic forbid the maintenance of a standing
army within the limits of the confederation. The
eighteenth article of the constitution of 1874 en-
acts that “Every Swiss is liable to serve in the de-
fense of his country.” Article nineteen enacts:
“The federal army consists of all men liable to
military service, and both the army and the war
material are at the disposal of the confederation.
In cases of emergency the confederation has also
the exclusive and undivided right of disposing of
the men who do not belong to the federal army,
and of all the other military forces of the cantons.

The cantons dispose of the defensive force of their
respective territories in so far as their power to
do so is not limited by the constitutional or le-
53
gal regulations of the confederation.” According
to article twenty, “The confederation enacts all
laws relative to the army, and watches over their
due execution; it also provides for the education
of the troops, and bears the cost of all military
expenditure which is not provided for by the leg-
islatures of the cantons.” To provide for the de-
fense of the country, every citizen has to bear
arms, in the management of which the children
are instructed at school, from the age of eight,
passing through annual exercises and reviews.
Such military instruction is voluntary on the part
of the children, but it is participated in by the
greater number of pupils at the upper and middle-
class schools. – The troops of the republic are di-
vided into two classes, viz.: 1. The bºundes-aus2\g,
or federal army, consisting of all men able to bear
arms, from the age of twenty to thirty-two. All
cantons are obliged, by the terms of the constitu-
tion, to furnish at least 3 per cent. of their popu-
lation to the bºundes-aus2\g. 2. The landwehr,
or militia, comprising all men from the thirty-
third to the completed forty-fourth year. — The
strength and organization of the armed forces of
Switzerland was as follows, in 1882 :
173 VOL. III. — 54
BRANCHES OF SERVICE. Bundes-auszug. [Landwehr. Total.
Staff ------------------- 67 ---------- 67
Infantry---------------- 89,466 78,219 168,685
Cavalry ---------------- 2,991 2,453 5,444
Artillery --------------- 16,520 8,317 24,837
Engineers -------------- 3,771 1,531 5,302
Administrative troops.-- 728 120 848
Sanitary troops.--------- 1,659 382 2,041
Various ----------------|----------------|---------- 992
Total.--------------- 115,135 92,022 | 208,216
Every citizen of the republic not disabled by
bodily defects or ill health, is liable to military
service at the age of twenty. Before being placed
on the rolls of the bºundes-auS2719, he has to under-
go a training of from twenty-eight to thirty-five
days, according to his entering the ranks of either
the infantry, the Schaafschützen, or picked rifle-
men, the cavalry, or the artillery. Both the men
of the bundes-aw82^lg and the reserve are called to-
gether in their respective cantons for annual exer-
cises, extending over a week for the infantry, and
over two weeks for the cavalry and artillery, while
periodically, once or twice a year, the troops of a
number of cantons assemble for a general muster.
— The military instruction of the federal army is
given to officers not permanently appointed or
paid, but who must have undergone a course of
education, and passed an examination at one of
the training establishments erected for the pur-
pose. The centre of these is the military academy
at Thun, near Berne, maintained by the federal
government, and which supplies the army both
with the highest class of officers, and with teach-
ers to instruct the lower grades. Besides this
academy, or centralmºlitärschule, there are special
training schools for the various branches of the
service, especially the artillery and the Scharf.
schützen. The nomination of the officérs, up to
the rank of captain, is made by the cantonal gov-
ernments, and above that rank by the federal
council. At the head of the whole military or-
ganization is a general commander-in-chief, ap-
pointed, together with the chief of the staff of the
army, by the federal assembly. — The total ex-
penditure on account of the army was, for 1881,
15,635,879 francs, and that of 1883, 16,598,934
francs; in the budget for 1882, 16,514,949 francs.
Not included in the army expenditure is the main-
tenance of the military school at Thun, which has
a fund of its own, the annual income from which
is larger than the expenditure. — IX. Trade and
Industry. The federal custom-house returns clas-
sify all imports and exports under three chief head-
ings, namely, “live stock,” “advalorem goods,”
and “goods taxed per quintal.” No returns are
published of the value of either the imports or
exports, but only the quantities are given ; and
these, too, are not made regularly known by the
customs authorities. The imports consist chiefly
of food, and the exports of cotton and silk manu-
factures, watches, straw hats and machinery. In
the year 1881 there were imported 5,722,409 quin-
tals of provisions of various kinds (including
850
TAMMANY HALL.
grain, flour and beverages), and 254,997 head of
cattle. The principal exports of 1881 consisted
of silk fabrics, cotton fabrics, watches and ma-
chinery. There were also some exports of cheese
and other food substances. But the excess of
food imports over exports amounted annually, in
recent years, on an average to 8,000,000 cwt., pur-
chased at a cost of 240,000,000 francs. – Being an
inland country, Switzerland has only direct com-
mercial intercourse with the four surrounding
states—Austria, Italy, France and Germany. The
trade with Austria is very inconsiderable, not
amounting, imports and exports combined, to
more than 25,000 francs per annum, on the aver-
age. From Italy the annual imports average
30,000 francs in value, while the exports to it
amount to 1,500,000 francs. The imports from
France average 500,000 francs, and the exports to
it 5,500,000 francs. In the intercourse with Ger-
many, imports and exports are nearly equal, aver-
aging each 500,000 francs. – Switzerland is in the
main an agricultural country, though with a strong
tendency to manufacturing industry, According
to the census of 1870, there are 1,095,447 individ-
uals supported by agriculture, either wholly or in
part. The manufactories employed, at the same
date, 216,468 persons, the handicrafts 241,425.
In the canton of Basel the manufacture of silk
ribbons occupies 6,000 persons; and in the canton
of Zürich silk stuffs are made by 12,000 opera-
tives. The manufacture of watches and jewelry
in the cantons of Neufchâtel, Geneva, Vaud, Berne
and Solothurn, occupies 36,000 workmen, who
produce annually 500,000 watches—three-sevenths
of the quantity of gold, and four-sevenths of sil-
ver—valued at 45,000,000 francs. In the cantons
of St. Gallen and Appenzell, 6,000 workers make
10,000,000 francs of embroidery annually. The
printing and dyeing factories of Glarus turn out
goods to the value of 150,000 francs per annum.
The manufacture of cotton goods occupies up-
2’
wards of 1,000,000 spindles, 4,000 looms and
20,000 operatives, besides 38,000 hand-loom weav-
ers. — From official returns, it appears that the
railways open for public traffic in Switzerland at
the end of 1882, had a total length of 2,571 kilo.
metres, or 1,594 English miles, besides 50 miles of
funicular and mountain railways, and the St.
Gothard system, which does not yet figure in the
mileage returns. These are distributed among
thirteen companies, the largest of which are, the .
Amalgamated Swiss railway, the Swiss North
Eastern, the Swiss Central, the Canton of Berne
State railway, the Swiss Western, the Fribourg
railway, and the Franco-Swiss railway. — The
postoffice in Switzerland forwarded 80,781,538 let-
ters in the year 1881, of which number 56,221,228
were internal, and 24,530,310 international. The
receipts of the postoffice in the year 1881 amount-
ed to 15,998,837 francs, and the expenditure to
13,964,554 francs. – Switzerland has a very com-
plete system of telegraphs, which, excepting
wires for railway service, is wholly under the con-
trol of the state. At the end of December, 1881,
there were 6,626 kilometres, or 4,140 miles, of
lines, and 16,174 kilometres, or 10,110 miles, of
wire belonging to the state. The number of tele-
graph messages sent in the year 1881 was 3,129,989;
comprising 1,837,385 inland messages, 879,727
international messages, and 329,798 messages in
transit. There were 1,210 telegraph offices, of
which 1,034 belonged to the state. The receipts
amounted to 2,453,972 francs, and the expendi-
ture to 1,963,666 francs, in the year 1880. — BIB-
LIOGRAPHY. Meyer, Geschichte des Schweizerischem
Bundesrechts, 1875 and 1878; Eidgenössische Bund-
esverfassung, Bundesgesetze und Bundesbeschlüsse,
1876; Staatskalender der Schweizerischen Eigenos-
senschaft, 1880; Dubs, Das äffentliche Recht der
Schweizerischen Eidgemossenschaft, 1877; Zorn,
Staat und Kºrché in der S., 1877. F. M.
T
TABLE. (See PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.)
TAMMANY HALL (IN U. S. HISTORY). A
term applied in American politics, first, to the
Columbian order, a secret society organized for
Social and political purposes in New York city in
1789, and which, upon incorporation in 1805,
added the name of Tammany society; second, to
the place of meeting owned or leased by this so-
ciety, in which the “regular” democratic organ-
ization of the “city and county of New York.”
assembled up to 1879; and, third, to the political
organization itself, meeting in Tammany Hall,
whether “regular” or not. The entire subject
will be clearer, if it is remembered that many
things true of one of these three objects is not
true of the other two, and that the same term
has been indiscriminately applied to all three, for
eighty years. It was first freely used of the Secret
society, next of the regular political organization
assembling in its hall, and in the third and last
stage of its history has come to be applied to the
democratic faction assembling in Tammany Hall,
sometimes regular, sometimes dissident, but nev-
er since 1852, commanding the unquestioned alle-
giance of all the voters of its party in the city.
Before that period rival democratic factions ex-
isted; since then there have been rival “Halls.”
The first of these periods covers the years 1800–
1834, in which the extension of the right of Suf-
frage and the grant of local self-government
formed the chief political issues of the state; the
second extends from 1834 to 1853–9, when federal
patronage and the democracy of the interior of
TAMMANY HALL.
851
the state retained the voters of the party in New
York city in a tolerably continuous organization
in spite of the changes worked in this vote, by
foreign immigration and the appearance of the
problems of the modern city—its ignorance, its
supine wealth, and its costly public works.
During the third and last period, while the politi-
cal organization meeting in Tammany Hall has
reached its final development as a well-disciplined
body of predatory politicians, the democratic vote
of the city, 1879–83, has become divided into two
nearly equal divisions. One of these votes with
the “county’ organization, independent of Tam-
many Hall, and recognized by the party in the
state as “regular.” The other body of voters fol-
lows the “Tammany” organization, which is not
so recognized, but which has a regular local succes-
sion to “Tammany,” and, during the second and
a large part of the third of these periods, was the
representative of a majority of the democratic vo-
ters of the city. — As it was only during the first
twenty or thirty years of its existence that the
Tammany society, or the organization sharing its
name, represented a genuine political movement,
the history of Tammany for the last fifty or sixty
years has been the record of an organization shar-
ing the principles of a wider national party, but
bent, first and foremost, on controlling the gov-
ernment of the city in which its lot was cast.
Tammany has chiefly attracted attention in this
phase as a highly successful effort to govern a
great city by organizing its venal vote; a vote ex-
tending from the day laborer anxious for steady
employment on the public roads, to the distin-
guished lawyer Solicitous to secure a judgeship at
$15,000 a year, with its lucrative refereeships and
wide influence. — The connection is of the slightest
between Tamanend, the obscure Indian chief who
put his mark to one of Penn’s treaties, dealing
with the lands of the Delaware Indians, and
“St. Tammany,” whose festival, on the 12th of
May, came, in the closing days of the revolution,
to replace St. George's day, three weeks earlier,
much as Christmas replaced the Saturnalia. The
significant fact is, that after William Mooney had
organized the Columbian order, with its thirteen
tribes, its twelve Sachems, or directors, its saga-
more, or master of ceremonies, and its wiskinski,
or door-keeper, the secondary name of Tammany
society was adopted, because it defined more clearly
the popular and local character of the organiza-
tion in its political action. The child-like interest
of the revolutionary period in parades, trappings,
terms and mysteries, was apparent in all the or-
ganization of the Society. For it the year was
divided into the seasons of flowers, of fruits, of
hunting and of Snow ; the pipe of peace was
smoked at its meetings; its members wore the In-
dian garb in the great processions of the day, and
in 1790 entertained a Creek embassy for days to-
gether in costume, and the bucktail which Tam-
many societies wore throughout Pennsylvania,
came, twenty years later, to be, in New York state,
the name of one of the earliest of the democratic
factions whose intricate relations vex the political
student. Tradition has preserved what the prefer-
ence and fancy of an earlier day selected. The
annual celebration of Independence Day in Tam-
many Hall is still made up of “long talks” and
“short talks;” New York newspapers still con-
tain the quaint notices of the annual meetings of
the society in the “season of flowers,” and its
other “council fires,” in the “great wigwam,”
which first appeared while Washington was pres-
ident; but in the changes of time its great Sachem
has become a boss, and the chief duties of its
wiskinskie, who once gathered the Spanish dol-
lars of the faithful at the door of Martling's long
room, have come to be the prompt and persistent
collection of political assessments from Tammany
office-holders. — These things are the outer shell
of the facts surrounding its early organization and
its later development. They unite it, on the one
hand, with the familiar channel of political action
at the foundation of the republic, and recall its
existence now, as the solitary link between the
politics of New York city, with 5,189 votes, and
the metropolis, with 336,137 males of the voting
age. Organized by William Mooney, an Irish-
American liberty boy and a violent whig, in the
second week of Washington's first administration,
the Columbian order represented, in federal poli-
tics, state rights; in state affairs, the demand for a
wider suffrage; and in local affairs, the claim of
the foreign-born citizen for a conspicuous part in
politics. All this was not at first apparent. Of
the first twelve sachems, ten were federalists. In
the hot discussion which succeeded the outbreak
of the French revolution, the Columbian order
opposed a war with Great Britain. For several
years the society was more conspicuous for its
riotous celebration of May 12 than for its direct
action in politics; but, in the eleven years which
preceded its first recorded appearance as a political
power, the democratic membership of the body
put it in sympathy with the political Organization
which Aaron Burr was slowly maturing. The
Poughkeepsie constitution had imposed a heavy
property qualification, a freehold of $50 to $250,
or a rental of 40 shillings annually, and the res-
toration of Order had curbed the influence of the
“Sons of Liberty”; a mob on the right side, but
still a mob. A local moneyed aristocracy, Sup-
ported by place and birth, resumed the control it
enjoyed in colonial days. Its opponents, in 1788,
polled one vote in seven in New York city, on a
legislative ticket carrying Aaron Burr's name.
For ten years the tide continued to run against
the popular party, until, in 1800, the Columbian
order began at the polls the careful, systematic
organization of the voters of the city, to which
the success of Tammany has ever since been due.
The vote of the city had increased one-half in a
decade—in 1801 the qualified voters numbered
7,988—but the city was canvassed, poor citizens
were deeded freeholds, “faggot’ voters were cre-
ated by uniting a number of men in the own-
ership of a single piece of property, the Society
852
TAMMANY HALL.
kept open house during the election, voters were
carried to and from the polls, and the entire
machinery, long since become familiar, was set
in motion to bring out the vote. The result
was overwhelming success, and Aaron Burr, the
next winter, was nominated as vice-president in
the congressional caucus at Washington, on the
strength of the victory. The control of the
largest city in the Union carried Tammany, at a
bound, to a position of influence in national poli-
tics which it has never lost. In despair, Alexan-
der Hamilton wrote to Senator Bayard proposing
the organization of a similar secret Society in the
federal party. — The annual convention in state,
and a permanent organization in local politics,
was still a quarter of a century distant in Ameri-
can affairs. A property qualification was required
of voters; municipal officers were appointed by
the governor and a council; a council of revision,
made up of appointed officers, passed upon all
legislation before it became law ; while the repre-
sentation accorded New York city, and its propor-
tion of voters, left it less powerful in state affairs
than at any time until the rapid growth of an
urban population in the state at large, stripped it
of its preponderating influence seventy-five years
later. A permanent secret Society was, under
these circumstances, invaluable in Securing con-
tinuous and coherent political action. The consti-
tutional accident, which made the voting power
of Tammany relatively greater in electing a presi-
dent than in choosing a governor, early attracted
to it federal patronage ; first used with effect in
New York state politics, under Madison. New
York city was still small enough for the manage-
ment of its politics by general meetings. The
election of assemblymen and congressmen on a
general ticket, contributed to concentrate political
power. The germ of a general, popular and perma-
nent organization began to show itself in the “gen-
eral committees,” for whose appointment general
meetings provided, but such an organization was
still far distant. The hard drinking of the day and
the social contact of a small city each contributed its
share to make acquaintance and frequent reunions
a strong and powerful factor in political action.
During the last sixty years the meetings of Tam-
many Hall, however turbulent and disorderly,
have never been anything but meetings, differing
wholly from the social gatherings of the first
third of a century, when it was still true that—
There's a barrel of porter in Tammany Hall,
And the bucktails are swigging it all the night long.
In the time of my childhood 'twas pleasant to call
For a seat and cigar 'mid the jovial throng.
— In the first faction fight of this period, between
the Burrites and the Lewisites over the election of
Morgan Lewis as governor in 1804, Tammany
acted with the former, and began its political
career with a bolt; for, while no organization has
ever shown a higher respect for local regularity,
none has ever been quicker to bolt the action of
an Albany legislative caucus or a state convention,
in which it has never been popular, and was and
is generally in the minority. Before another elec-
tion came, Tammany had developed, from its own
ranks and among its ward workers, Daniel D.
Tompkins, one of those young and brilliant lead-
ers whose careers, from the day of Tompkins to
the day of Hoffman, have opened so well and
fared so ill. A “regular” caucus with which
Tammany acted nominated Tompkins, and a year
later George Clinton was shelved by his choice as
vice-president. For a brief period his son, De
Witt Clinton, had acted with Tammany Hall.
Like all succeeding mayors, he found how diffi-
cult it is for the chief executive officer of the city
to distribute his patronage without quarreling
with the local organization, and being compelled
to fight the Organization by a personal machine ;
to submit; or to resign political power—the three
alternatives for seventy years presented to every
mayor by Tammany Hall. Clinton, like Fer-
nando Wood, chose the first. The general meet-
ings of Tammany Hall were supporting every
step taken by Madison, and its members received,
in return, federal patronage, whose importance
was enormously increased by the heavy imposts
of the day, which, for the first time, were cen-
tring at New York. Clinton bitterly complained
of this use of patronage, but he was powerless,
and the candidate who at last defeated him in a.
contest for his seat in the senate, was the federal
district attorney, Nathan Sanford. The death of
John Broome, in the same year, gave Clinton the
opportunity of running for lieutenant governor,
an office which he reached, and a year later a
general meeting in New York nominated him for
the presidency. Tammany Hall arrayed itself on
the side of regularity, and enjoying federal, state
and city patronage, crushed Clinton. The strug-
gle lasted for years with varying success, and end-
ed only with Clinton's death, in 1828, while gov-
ernor. His previous removal from the office of ca-
nal commissioner by Tammany Hall, had aroused
an overwhelming popular sentiment in his favor.
The frauds charged against Gov. Tompkins—the
first of the great public scandals of Tammany
Hall—had earlier enabled Clinton (1817) to win in
a contest in which the vote of the state at large
steadily opposed the dominant city organization,
whose wealth and ability enabled it each winter,
at Albany, to retrieve in the legislative caucus
what it had lost at the polls in November. — Fed-
eral patronage, army contracts and local public
works—now first begun—had by this time given
the Tammany society wealth. It built, in 1812,
its first hall, on the site now occupied by the
“Sun” building. Its membership showed that
alliance between local politicians and local busi-
nes men which it retained up to a very recent
date. This alliance would be inexplicable in an
organization which has uniformly opposed national
and state measures, favorable to the city, and in-
creased local taxation ; but for the great profits
which attend the use of active capital in contracts
and in investments guided by an early knowledge
TAMMANY HALL.
853
of public works. The organization itself has
never been true at any period to the real inter-
ests of the city. It supported the embargo, it
favored the war with Great Britain, and it de-
nounced the Erie canal until the work had reached
dimensions which made a share in its contracts
profitable, when the votes of its representatives at
Albany and the skill of its pamphleteers were en-
listed in behalf of enormous appropriations. It
opposed a permanent police, was disloyal, and aid-
ed Tweed’s sack. Yet, neither in its early nor in its
later days was the mob, the final residuum of the
city, enlisted in Tammany Hall. Clinton, Wood
and Morrissey, each commanded a lower stratum
of voters than Van Buren, Schell and Kelly. Up
to 1879, in spite of occasional eclipses, the lower
middle class, which in the long run rules every
great city, was the real strength of Tammany
Ball. It is a curious illustration of this, that, in
1817 when the Tammany society issued one of its
addresses on the state of public affairs, it deplored
the spread of the “foreign º' game of billiards
among young men of the upper classes, and the
presence of vice among the lower in the true
spirit of a middle class precisian. The character
and organization of Tammany Hall only changed
for the worse estate, which has made its name a
hissing and a by-word, when the small shopkeep-
•ers and the rising mechanics of the lower wards
of New York were replaced, from 1850 to 1860,
by a foreign-born population, with its tenement
houses, its rum shops and its beer saloons. – A
general meeting of Tammany Hall in 1820, attend-
ed by bucktails from all parts of the state, began the
movement which resulted in the constitutional
convention of 1821. Its constitution greatly low-
ered the franchise. This in its turn was followed
in 1833 by charter amendments, making the
mayor of New York elective.
changed the character of local politics. The
centre of political action on all local affairs was
shifted from Albany to New York. State patron-
age ceased to be a conspicuous factor in local
politics where the distribution of federal and
municipal offices was the first object of politi-
cal life. Up to 1831, every gubernatorial term
but one had been filled by a man who began his
active political life in New York ward politics.
Since then only three terms have been filled by
men (Morgan, Hoffman and Tilden) who were
graduated from the same school. With this change
in the electorate and the city government, there
came an increase in the number of voters, which
made it no longer possible for a general meeting
to serve the purposes of local politics, or the
Social gatherings of a secret Society to unite the
politicians of a city whose population was (1830)
197,112, and whose voters numbered (1835) 43,091.
The “general committee” succeeded the gener-
al meeting. This body, which survives to-day,
grew from two separate Sources. The general
meeting, after making nominations, had habit-
ually delegated the management of the canvass
to a general committee. The ward and district
Both radically
primaries in a similar manner turned over the
practical work of the election to their own gener-
al committees. A list of the latter in one of the
early mayoralty elections fills thirteen and one-
half Columns of a daily paper, and constituted a
roster of the fighting force of Tammany Hall, and
an almost equally complete list of local and fed-
eral officers. These two bodies gradually came
to take shape in a representative general commit-
tee, based first on wards and their election dis-
tricts, until the assembly district came, in 1871,
long after the election of assemblymen by dis-
tricts, to be the working unit in local politics.
The wards elected aldermen long after the drift of
population had greatly changed their relative vote,
and this circumstance continued the ward in city
politics, and perpetuated a rotten borough system,
which, in the divisions opening the third period
of Tammany Hall, placed the regular organiza-
tion in the hands of men representing a minority
of the voters. — The central and ward organiza-
tions grew and prospered together. The “general
committee,” under its early name as a “general
council,” first appeared in Tammany Hall in 1822,
three delegates representing each of the eleven
wards into which the city was divided. The cre-
ation of new wards raised the number to forty-
five, in 1836 to seventy-five ; and in 1843 the
division of the city into election districts led to
an increase in membership. The wards and their
districts were abandoned later for the assembly
districts and their election precincts. The steady
growth of population has at last given an election
precinct an average population from one-half to
one-third of the early ward, and in the present
(1883) Tammany general committee each precinct
has two representatives. From thirty or forty
members, the committee has therefore grown to
over 1,400, but, instead of representing a majority
of the voters of the city, it now controls the
votes of a bare third. In the ward, and, later, in
the assembly district, the precinct has been, since
1843, the unit of a like organization for ward pur-
poses. – Theoretically it will be seen that this or-
ganization gives representative bodies chosen di-
rectly by the voters. Three circumstances, two
of them common to all large cities, and the other
peculiar to New York, have combined to remove
this body from the control of the people. Fºrst,
voters early abstained from the primaries. This
was as much the case in 1830 as in 1880. The
delegates to the first national democratic conven-
tion were chosen by a larger proportion of office-
holders and a smaller number of voters, relative
to the voting yote, than attended the primaries
whose successive representatives elected the dele-
gates to Cincinnati in 1880. Second, the law never
protected these primary meetings from corruption.
They began in riot and fraud. Clinton’s meetings
were regularly mobbed in 1812, and the primaries
and meetings of the last decade have been incom-
parably more orderly, but no less corrupt, than
those of previous years. Third, the circumstance
that the mayors of New York were at first elected
854
TAMMANY HALL.
in the spring led to the organization of a general
committee at the close of each calendar year in
primaries held for this purpose. These primaries,
meeting in the ebb between the fall and spring
election, never attracted general interest. Tradi-
tion and the convenience of politicians have con-
tinued them at a season when the average citizen
has dismissed politics from his attention, and a
brief notice yearly reminds the casual reader that
a new Tammany Hall general committee is to be
chosen on the last Thursday of the year. — The
general committee, directly representing the ward
workers, rapidly relegated the Tammany Society
to a relatively unimportant position. No care-
ful student of New York politics for the last
fifty years, and no one familiar with their actual
working for the last fifteen years, can fail to see
that the influence of the society has been exagger-
ated. It has always owned, and, of late years,
has controlled by a lease, the hall in which the
Tammany organization meets. Tradition and this
circumstance render it necessary that the head
of the political organization should control a ma-
jority of the society. In 1867 the society, and
the organization with it, removed from its early
quarters (rebuilt in 1860) to its present wigwam
on Fourteenth street. Once since then (in 1872)
the society closed its doors to the organization.
But the organization has existed and acted apart
from the society, to which a small share of its
members belong. Perhaps no better proof of the
local political vitality which accounts for this per-
manent separate existence without calling in the
Tammany society to explain it, could be given
than the circumstance that the local republican
organization, aided by no society and having no
such tie, has maintained its individuality, its exist-
ence and its succession for twenty-five years, and,
for all practical political purposes, survived its
summary reorganization in 1883–4.—From twenty
to thirty years after its organization, the general
committee had become an unwieldy body, open
to the attacks of mobs, whose riotous proceedings
perpetually threw doubt on the validity of the
succession, and, what was more important in the
eyes of politicians, hopelessly divided the dem-
ocratic vote. After fifteen years of this condition
of affairs, it became plain that the “general com-
mittee” was a body as little able to decide the
regularity of conflicting ward partisans as the
whole body of the faithful in Rome to elect a
pope. Shortly after the close of the war, there-
fore, a new body appeared, reaching its power
by slow degrees, in the “committee on organiza-
tion.” This body, at first one, and later two,
from each ward or assembly district, secured pow-
ers, to carry the analogy a step farther, similar to
those of the college of cardinals. Originally a sub-
ordinate committee of the general committee, to
whom questions of regularity, party discipline
and party organization were referred, the commit-
tee on organization has come to be the final au-
thority in Tammany Hall. The chairman of this
committee is the “boss” of the Hall, and while
the committee begins by naming its chairman,
the chairman always ends by naming the com-
mittee. Its report admits or excludes contesting
delegations from the general committee, and the
general committee primaries are under the care of
its members. The circuit of power is therefore
complete, and the downfall of Tweed is the only
instance on record of a successful attempt to car-
ry the primaries against a majority of the com-
mittee on organization. —It is possible, if the
general committee and the district committees of
like character directly made nominations, that the
general interest in local politics which renders the
voting voter more numerous in New York city.
than in any city as large, would lead to the gen-
uine popular choice of the general committee.
The Tammany Hall organization, however, im-
poses a third screen between the voter and his.
vote. All nominations are made by conventions.
called for this purpose. The mayor, county offi-
cers, judges of all varieties, congressmen, Sena-
tors, assemblymen and aldermen, are each nomi-
nated in conventions chosen to suit the Occasion.
The primaries for these conventions, in theory
open to all democrats, are held by the members of
the organization which radiates from the chair-
man of the committee on organization through.
the general committees to the district committees.
These successive transmissions commit the entire
organization into the hands of politicians; and
Tammany Hall, in theory popular, becomes in.
practice a well organized and highly disciplined
hierarchy of politicians and place-holders, who,
in spite of all bolts, control and yearly poll over
50,000 votes, the greater part of whom are di-
rectly or indirectly interested in the enormous.
municipal expenditure of New York city. — Tam-
many Hall, during the two periods, in the first.
of which the general committee was developed,
to pass later in the second period under the com-
mittee on organization, has shared in every elec-
tion. Its political history is the political history
of New York city, and it is not intended, in
briefly sketching the course of the organization,
to give more than is needed to make its develop-
ment plain. The second period of “Tammany ”
may be considered as extending from the election
of C. W. Lawrence as mayor, in 1834, to the crush-
ing defeat of Tammany Hall by Mozart Hall in
the election of Fernando Wood, in 1859. This
election, the changes of the war and the Tweed
ring ended in the Tammany Hall of to-day, and
comprise the third period in its history. During
the second period, Tammany Hall held the may-
oralty for fifteen years out of twenty-five; during
the third period, it has held the same office thir-
teen years out of twenty-four. Measured in this
way, the supremacy of Tammany Hall appears to
be evenly distributed, but of the last thirteen years.
seven were under Tweed's mayors, and paved the
way for the present position of Tammany Hall as
a democratic rump, whose vote has been cast more
than once against the party. In the second pe-
riod, when the Tammany society had been defi-
TAMMANY HALL.
855
nitely succeeded by the more popular general
committee, Tammany Hall was dominant in New
York city because it contained the ablest politi-
cians in a city narrowly divided between the whig.
and democratic voters. Tammany Hall entered
its first canvass for mayor, in 1834, liberally sup-
ported by the federal patronage of the Jackson
administration. The Sixth ward, known later as
the “bloody sixth,” was then the “office-holders'
ward,” and included hundreds of the federal em-
ployés, who continued to support Tammany Hall
until the republican party secured control of the
federal government. The whig party had behind
it the growing power of the rural vote of the state,
organized by Weed and Seward, which elected
Seward governor, and changed the face of politics
in New York state by transferring the counties of
the interior from the democratic to the republic-
an party. Lawrence became mayor by a narrow
majority. One year later, in October, 1835, the
division between the “loco-foco" or equal rights
party and Tammany culminated in the riot which
gave the former its name and offered the first proof
of the ease with which a large convention could
become a mob in a city of a quarter of a million,
whose police force was still ten years distant. The
alliance between the whig and loco-foco candi-
dates, in 1836, ran through 1837 and 1838, defeat-
ing Tammany Hall in these years. The election
of J. L. Varian, Tammany, in 1839, began a pe-
riod of success which lasted until 1844, when James
Harper, an American candidate, defeated Tam-
many Hall. With the election of W. T. Have-
meyer, in 1845, the modern period of the city be-
gan. Its waterworks were completed, its police
organized, and the influence of patronage and
public works increased. With them, the prizes of
local municipal life multiplied, and in the period
from 1845 to 1853 the second of the great feuds
in Tammany Hall opened between the “hards”
and “softs.” The two factions stood in a way for
the “hunker” and “barn-burner’ factions of the
state democracy; but without entering into their
state and national relations, the two factions grew
out of the struggles in the local organization over
nominations and the “regular” succession. The
“hards” represented the office-holding faction,
and when, in August, 1853, they were mobbed in
Tammany Hall by the “softs,” the chairman of
the former was the collector of the port, Augustus
Schell. A year later, Fernando Wood, who had
successfully organized a “soft” machine, captured
the primaries of the “hards,” and secured a unit-
ed nomination for mayor. The “adamantine”
“hards” at once seceded from Tammany Hall,and
organized at the Stuyvesant Institute, defeating
the regular democratic candidate for governor,
Horatio Seymour, by a bolt, precisely as Lucius
Robinson was defeated by a like bolt in 1879. —
For nearly ten years, from 1853 to 1863, the strug-
gle between the opposing factions continued. The
Quarrel had practically begun in 1852, and the
national conventions of 1852 and 1856 were asked
to pass upon its merits, Every democratic state
convention had contesting delegations before it,
and every city election, saw the democratic vote
divided by the presence of two tickets, both claim-
ling regularity. It would be idle to go into the
details of these contests. Fernando Wood re-
tained his control over the regular organization
until 1857, when the contest was transferred to the
Tammany society in its first and last attempt to
decide the regularity of two opposing factions.
The result proved the attempt futile. Wood was
defeated in the Society, retained the organization,
secured the régular nomination and was beaten,
1858, by Daniel F. Tiemann. The Tammany so-
ciety, under its new Sachems, excluded his general
committee, and Wood seceded to Mozart Hall and
was elected mayor in 1859 over the Tammany
candidate, W. T. Havemeyer. Two years later,
the split still continued, and a republican, George
Opdyke, was chosen mayor. In 1863 Tammany
was again defeated by the election of C. Godfrey
Gunther, an independent democrat, over Frank
Boole, who had received the Tammany and Mozart
Hall nomination. — These successive defeats made
necessary the change in policy and organization
already described. The lavish expenditure which
Fernando Wood had begun was resumed at the
close of the war by W. M. Tweed. The ring, of
which he was the conspicuous figure, combined
with the corruption whose story has been so often
told, a reorganization of Tammany Hall and the
introduction of a sharp and summary discipline
carried on by the committee on organization which
promptly excluded objectors. The change altered
the character of Tammany Hall. The loose and
floating body of voters became a standing army
of mercenary voters, which might suffer defeat,
but never altogether lost its organization or left
any question as to the regularity of its succession.
John T. Hoffman was elected mayor by Tammany
Hall in 1865, re-elected in 1867, and succeeded, on
his own election as governor, by A. Oakey Hall,
who held office past the defeat of the Tweed ring
in 1871, until, in 1872, W. T. Havemeyer was
chosen mayor on a citizens’ ticket. The sack of
the city treasury went on during this period with-
out pause or check. The operations of the ring
added over $100,000,000 to the bonded debt of the
city, doubled its annual expenditure, and cost tax
payers, to take the best approximate estimates,
first and last, at least $160,000,000, or four times
the fine levied on Paris by the German army.
Many causes combined to render this gigantic dev-
astation possible; but all combined could scarcely
have compassed this plunder, if Tammany Hall
itself had not been reorganized and converted into
a standing army of voters encamped in New York
city, obeying a single head and able to exclude all
dissension from its ranks. – This Organization,
without its old opportunities and without its old
flagrant corruption, but still a body living on poli-
tics, survived Tweed, and after various changes
passed, in 1873, under the control of John Kelly,
who has remained its head for ten years. Tweed’s
purposes rendered an alliance with the democracy
856
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
of the state indispensable. When that was lost,
he went to the penitentiary. To John Kelly, this
connection was not necessary. Tammany Hall,
in 1874, elected W. H. Wickham, and, in 1876,
chose Smith Ely. The personal honesty of its
leader, the recent fall and punishment of Tweed,
and the growth of an independent vote, led to
nominations far above the average of past years.
In 1878 successive secessions from Tammany Hall
left it in a minority, and Edward Cooper was
elected mayor by a combination between repub-
licans and democrats in sympathy and full party
communion with the state democracy. In 1879,
when the state democracy nominated Lucius Rob-
inson as governor, John Kelly was run as a bolting
democratic candidate. This completed the isola-
tion of Tammany Hall. The long series of steps
by which a social organization with political pur-
poses had become developed into an organized
body of voters, acting for its own purposes, inde-
pendent of all principle but plunder and all aim
but office, was at last completed.
TALCOTT WILLIAMS.
TANEY, Roger Brooke, was born in Calvert
county, Md., March 17, 1777, and died at Wash-
ington city, Oct. 12, 1864. He was graduated at
Dickinson college in 1795, was admitted to the bar
in 1799, and became attorney general of Maryland
in 1827, and attorney general of the United States
in 1831. In the following year he was appointed
secretary of the treasury (see DEPOSITs, REMOVAL
OF); but his nomination was not sent to the Senate
until the service for which he had been selected
was performed, and then the Senate refused to
confirm it. Jackson then appointed him to the
supreme Court bench, and the Senate again refused
to confirm him. In 1836, the whigs having lost
control of the Senate, Jackson appointed him to
fill the vacancy caused by the death of Chief
Justice Marshall, and the senate confirmed the
appointment. He filled the office until his death.
His most interesting opinions, in a political point
of view, were those given in the Dred Scott case
(see that title) and the Merriman case. (See
HABEAs CORPUs.) — Tyler's Life of Taney, 195
foll., makes it evident that Taney, in removing
the deposits, acted from a sense of duty, and not
from political motives.
foll., is a supplementary opinion in the Dred
Scott case, which will at least show Taney's hon-
esty of belief. His opinion in the Merriman case
was upheld by the supreme court, after the re-
bellion was ended, in the Milligan case. See,
contra, 1 Greeley’s American Conflict, 253; 2
Wilson's Rise and Fall of the Slave Power, 524;
Giddings' History of the Rebellion, 403; The Unjust
Judge. A. J.
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
The theory of tariff taxation has been discussed
in this work in the article CUSTOMs DUTIES. The
subject of the present article is merely what has
been done in the way of tariff legislation in the
merchants quite disposed to let trade alone.
In the same work, p. 578
United States; and mention can be made only of
the more important acts, without any attempt to
explain all the motives which led to their enact-
ments, or the manifold results that have followed
their adoption and administration. And, first, as
to the power of congress to impose tariffs. Under
the confederation the states retained the taxing
power, and left the central body, the congress of
the confederation, without any direct means of
defraying whatever expenses the necessities of war
compelled it to contract. Some attempts were
made to secure for it an independent revenue, but
they came to naught. On the return of peace,
while still maintaining the form of a confederacy,
the states, no longer united by a common danger,
became, to a great extent, independent, and each
managed its concerns with little regard to the in-
terests of the others. Massachusetts had a navi-
gation act, and levied import duties, and other
states followed her example. The restrictions and
prohibitions imposed on American commerce were
| vexatious and destructive, and while the congress
had power to enter into treaties of reciprocity, it
could not retaliate in any way were its offers of
trade refused. The power to do this rested in the
states individually, but in spite of many proposi-
tions to this effect, no uniform or decisive action
on their part could be brought about. From 1783
until the adoption of the federal constitution it was
generally recognized that congress should have
the power to regulate commercial relations be-
tween the states and foreign powers, but the sup
posed interests of the different states presented an
effectual bar against action. “The agitators for
the regulation of trade in Virginia belonged to that
class of the community which in the eastern and
middle states was most bitterly set against the
measure. In Massachusetts and New York the
merchants were the supporters, and the farmers
the opponents. In Virginia the planters were to
a man united in the opinion that some steps must
be taken to mend commercial affairs, and the
The
reason is obvious. The condition of things to the
south of the Potomac was precisely the reverse of
the condition of things to the north of the Potomac.
Beyond the north bank of the river the farmers
throve, and the merchants did a losing business.
Beyond the south bank the merchants were daily
growing more prosperous, and the planters more
impoverished.” (1 McMaster, 272.) The agitation
over this question first assumed a definite form in
Virginia, and led up to the national trade conven-
tion held at Annapolis in 1786, out of which move-
ment arose the federal convention of 1787, which
resulted in the framing of the constitution, and
the foundation of a central government possess-
ing definite and important functions, and clothed
with the power necessary to perform them. — It
would, however, be an error to attribute this action
wholly to the commercial needs of the country.
The states had just passed through an era of
paper money madness, in which each state had
vied with the others in excessive issues, with the
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
857
intention of allowing their inhabitants deeply im-
mersed in debt to free themselves from such bur-
dens. This alone was sufficient to create general
poverty, and armed rebellions did occur in many
quarters. Manufactures were beginning to arise
in New England, and served to turn attention to
the development of the internal resources of the
country. The jealousies existing among the states
had only aggravated the evils arising from mis.
managed finances, and in the general scramble for
vantage the many restrictions and limitations im-
posed hindered that industrial growth which, it
was confidently believed, would restore prosperity.
The folly of thus contending among themselves
was seen by the clear headed, and the remedy
they believed adequate was an extension of the
power of the confederation. The debts contracted
by the congress were about to fall due, but the
confederation was without resources, and without
credit. New York had expressed a willingness
to grant to it power to levy duties on imports.
Rufus King made a very able report to congress,
in which he concluded that the impost was an
absolute necessity to the maintenance of the faith
of the federal government. While thus agitating
for an independent revenue, the government did
not cease to urge upon the states the disordered
condition of trade and finances, and the advisable-
ness of granting to congress the power to regulate
trade. But while commercial reasons were thus
at the bottom of the movement, political reasons,
quite as cogent, existed in favor of a new distribu-
tion of powers, and the action of these two forces,
combined, produced the constitution. — By this
important instrument the new government was
empowered to levy taxes of every description, and
to regulate commerce with foreign nations. In
connection with our subject it will be important
to bear these two powers in mind, as the one has
heen made an instrument of the other. The right
to levy duties upon imported commodities was
conceded, and the only limitation imposed upon
its exercise was that the duties should be uniform
throughout the land. The question then arises
whether the government ought to lay taxes for
any other purpose than to raise revenue, which
involves the question whether congress may lay
taxes to protect and encourage manufactures.
The arguments for and against this use of the tax-
ing power will be found in Story’s “Commentaries
on the Constitution,” $$ 959–973, and are summed
up as follows: “So that, whichever construction
of the power to lay taxes is adopted, the same
conclusion is sustained, that the power to lay taxes
is not by the constitution confined to purposes of
revenue. In point of fact, it has never been lim-
ited to such purposes by congress; and all the
great functionaries of the government have con-
stantly maintained the doctrine that it was not
constitutionally so limited.” It was customary to
regulate trade by taxing imports, and this practice
was acted upon by all nations at that time. Re-
taliatory duties were recognized as a proper exer-
cise of power, even when they produced no rev-
enue, and duties primarily intended for revenue
purposes might incidentally afford protection to
manufactures. The colonies always recognized
the right of England to regulate their commerce;
but when parliament undertook to levy taxes for
another end, they revolted. It might further be
said that every civilized nation at that time con-
sidered that the power to regulate commerce in-
cluded the encouragement of manufactures, and
acted upon this belief. Some of the states had
already adopted regulations which were intend-
ed to give such encouragement to their indus-
tries, although this encouragement was secured
at the expense of the other states; and in ced-
ing this power to make such laws to the general
government, it was claimed that the states had
expected a continuance of this recognized policy.
So that the weight of opinion was in favor of
the right to regulate commerce by import duties
or other taxes, and chiefly on the ground that
the power was generally exercised among nations,
From the very first, then, a tariff has been recog-
nized as a measure for raising revenue, for pro-
tecting and encouraging domestic manufactures,
and as an instrument for regulating commerce.
(Story, Comm., §§ 1077–1095.) — But the condi-
tions which favored these views at the time the
constitution was adopted no longer exist, and a
very different set of circumstances has arisen to
alter in a great measure the opinions on the
tax power of the government. At the end of
the eighteenth century it was not strange to find
the power to regulate trade and commerce with
foreign nations granted to congress. Nothing
was more natural; for at that time the fiscal and
commercial policies of nations were governed by
the maxim that no trading or commercial people
could ever prosper without regulation of trade,
and the more their transactions were regulated by
law the higher would be the resulting economic
well-being of the country. Regulation, however,
meant interference and restrictions. Innumerable
laws are found on the statute books of nearly
every nation that had any trade whatever, which
were intended to foster and develop domestic man-
ufactures and domestic commerce. Loans and im-
portant immunities were granted by the state to
encourage the investment of capital in industrial
enterprises; premiums, bounties and drawbacks
were offered to producers and exporters; the im-
portation of the raw materials of industry, and the
export of manufactured products were unnatural-
ly encouraged; while the importation of such
commodities as would come into competition with
domestic articles was discouraged by high customs
duties, or was even expressly prohibited; the ex-
portation of machinery and the emigration of
skilled labor were forbidden under severe penal-
ties; and through discriminating and retaliatory
duties a species of commercial war was waged
among nations. In fact, the whole system of trade
was founded upon regulation, and was to that ex-
tent artificial and strained. And in no instance was
this result more evident than in the commercial
858
TARIFES OF THE UNITED STATES.
relations which subsisted between a parent coun-
try and her colonies, in which all the advantage
lay on one side. The American colonies had
known no other trading system, and, therefore,
believed that the adoption of the same illiberal
laws was essential to their existence as an inde-
pendent power. Their weakness invited insult
and harsh laws from other nations; and while one of
their first acts after the return of peace was to seek
for commercial treaties with European powers,
they also sought to protect their commerce with
the instruments that were then everywhere em-
ployed. — All of this has changed. As the laws
of trade were examined it was seen that they were
natural laws, and that any interference with their
free play was mischievous, and, instead of creat-
ing, destroyed commerce. The suicidal policy of
taxing one's self in order to ward off an imaginary
danger, became clearer to practical statesmen; and
the old theory, that what one nation gains must be
at the expense of another, has given way to a more
just and accurate view that believes in leaving
trade alone, to be governed by an enlightened self-
interest. In spite, however, of this change of
feeling, the United States has persisted in continu-
ing along the old ruts, and has only two or three
times shown any disposition to accept the truths
that modern political economy has enunciated
and is enforcing in spite of human laws to the
contrary. But the inevitable is being enforced at
a fearful cost to the people who have not recog-
nized the true principles of trade and adapted their
transactions to them. And the high industrial
position which the United States holds at this time
(1883) is in spite of restrictions, and not in conse-
quence of them. — No sooner had the first con-
gress met than a measure for taxing imports was
introduced by Mr. Madison (April 8, 1789) for the
purpose of giving some resources to the almost
empty treasury. The measure proposed was ex-
tremely simple in its character, being intended as
a temporary expedient, and enumerated rum and
Other spirituous liquors, wines, teas, coffee, sugar,
molasses and pepper, as subjects for specific duties,
while ad valorem duties were to be levied upon
all other articles. The first debate at once dis-
closed a difference of opinion as to whether or not
the tariff should be made protective in its charac-
ter, but it was not for some years after this that
the constitutional power of the government to lay
duties for protection was called in question. The
difference of opinion we have just noted has con-
tinued until to-day, and must always continue so
long as a tariff is imposed. Those who favored a
protective tariff could however point to existing
industries, and claim that they were “infant” in-
dustries, requiring a protection against foreign
competition. But at once the conflict of interests
appeared. Massachusetts wished a duty on rum
in order to protect her producers, but objected to
One on molasses. Pennsylvania asked for protec-
tion to her iron and steel industries, but the south-
ern states, which were chiefly agricultural, were
opposed to granting it. The duty on hemp was
favored by the south but urged by the north, and
so on through the list, hardly one item of which was
not opposed on sectional grounds, that the benefits
would accrue to certain states and at the cost of
the other states. The bill was finally completed,
and adopted as a protective measure, but it was so
only in name. The preamble read: “Whereas it
is necessary for the support of the government,
for the discharge of the debts of the United States,
and the encouragement and protection of man-
ufactures, that duties be laid,” etc.; and in the
whole history of tariff legislation in this country
it is the only law which was thus openly passed
for protection to American industry. For pru-
dential reasons this form of preamble was changed,
and tariff enactments have on their face since been
for the purposes of revenue only. This tariff be-
came a law on July 4, 1789, and was to remain in
force until June, 1796. The average duty levied
under it was equivalent to an ad valorem rate of
83 per cent.; and it was thought that this was too
high a general scale of taxation, and would result
in encouraging smuggling. As this act formed
the foundation of our tariff system, we will give
the duties imposed: distilled spirits, of Jamaica
proof, 10 cents per gallon; other distilled spirits,
8 cents; molasses, 23 cents; Madeira wine, 18 cents;
other wines, 10 cents; beer, ale, and porter, in
casks, 5 cents per gallon; in bottles, 20 cents per
dozen; bottled cider, the same; malt, 10 cents per
bushel; brown sugar, 1 cent per lb.; loaf sugar, 3.
cents; other sugars, 2% cents; coffee, 2% cents;
cocoa, 1 cent; teas from China and India, in Amer-
ican vessels, ranged from 6 to 20 cents per lb, and
in foreign vessels somewhat higher; candles, from
2 to 6 cents per lb; cheese, 4 cents; soap, 2 cents;
boots, per pair, 50 cents; shoes, from 7 to 10 cents,
according to material; cables and tarred cordage,
75 cents per cwt.; untarred cordage, 90 cents;
twine and pack thread, $2; unwrought steel, 50.
cents per cwt.; nails and spikes, 1 cent per lb.;
salt, 6 cents per bushel; manufactured tobacco, 6.
cents per lb.; indigo, 16 cents per lb.; wool and
cotton cards, 50 cents per dozen; coal, 2 cents per
bushel; pickled fish, 75 cents per barrel; dried fish,
50 cents per quintal; playing cards, 10 cents per
pack; hemp, 60 cents per cwt. ; cotton, 3 cents
per lb. In addition to these specific duties, an ad
valorem duty of 10 per cent. was imposed on glass
of all kinds (black quart bottles excepted), china,
stone, and earthenware, gunpowder, paints, shoe
and knee buckles, and gold and silver lace and
leaf; 7% per cent. ad valorem was charged upon
blank books, paper, cabinet wares, leather, ready-
made clothing, hats, gloves, millinery, canes,
brushes, gold and silver and plated ware and jew-
elry, buttons, saddles, slit and rolled iron, and
castings of iron, anchors, tin and pewter ware.
Upon all other articles, including manufactures of
wool, cotton and linen, 5 per cent. ad valorem
was to be charged, except on Saltpetre, tin, lead,
old pewter, brass, iron and brass wire, copper in
plates, wool, dyestuffs, hides and furs, to be free
of duty. Such was the first tariff, and such was
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
859
the entering wedge of the protective system. —
Between the tariff of 1789 and that of 1816, which
marks the second important step in the tariff leg-
islation of the country, there were passed upward
of seventeen acts affecting the rate of duties, and
the tendency was ever toward higher rates. The
most important event of this period was the prep-
aration of Hamilton's famous report upon manu-
factures, which contained the earliest formulation
of protective principles that is to be met with in
our legislative history, and still remains the source
of protectionist argument. It would be impossi-
ble even to briefly summarize in this place this
important contribution to tariff history, but the
conditions under which it was written were, as I
have already stated, peculiar, and many of his
doctrines, if not indeed the whole basis of his
reasoning, have been swept away by subsequent
events. For the protection he advocated was
justified chiefly by the fiscal restrictions of other
nations. “The restrictive regulations,” he says,
“which, in foreign markets, abridge the vent of
the increasing surplus of our agricultural produce,
serve to beget an earnest desire that a more exten-
sive demand for the surplus may be created at
home. * * If the system of perfect liberty to
industry and commerce were the prevailing sys-
tem of nations, the arguments which dissuade a
country in the predicament of the United States
from the zealous pursuit of manufactures, would
doubtless have great force. * * But the sys-
tem which has been mentioned is far from char-
acterizing the general policy of nations. The
prevalent one has been regulated by an opposite
spirit. The consequence of it is, that the United
States are, to a certain extent, in the situation
of a country precluded from foreign commerce.
They can indeed, without difficulty, obtain from
abroad the manufactured supplies of which they
are in want; but they experience numerous and
very injurious impediments to emission and vent
of their own commodities. Nor is this the case
in reference to a single foreign nation only. The
regulations of several countries with which we
have the most extensive intercourse, throw serious
obstacles in the way of the principal staples of
the United States. In such a position of things
the United States can not exchange with Europe
on equal terms; and the want of reciprocity would
render them the victim of a system which should
induce them to confine their views to agriculture,
and refrain from manufactures. A constant and
increasing necessity, on their part, for the com-
modities of Europe, and only a partial and occa-
sional demand for their own, in return, could not
but expose them to a state of impoverishment,
compared with the opulence to which their politi-
cal and natural advantages authorize them to as-
pire.” A tariff was thus, in Hamilton's view, an
instrument of compensation and retaliation rather
than a purely protective measure in the sense in
which protection is viewed at the present day; and
it is needless to add, that Hamilton's view has lit-
tle force now when the greater number of restric-
tions upon commerce that existed when he wrote
have been removed. A like stand was taken by
Jefferson in 1793, when he advocated counter-
vailing foreign restrictions in case they could not
be removed by negotiation. — The wars in Europe
tended at first toward a more liberal system of
commerce, and the merchants of this country
benefited largely by it. Some moderate increase
in the rates of duties were from time to time
granted, but no real demand for protection until
the return of peace in 1801, when the old restrict-
ive system was re-enacted by Europe. This
peace was, however, of short duration, and on
the resumption of hostilities the commerce of
this country was so seriously involved as to create
a demand for retaliation. In 1805 the importa-
tion of British manufactures was prohibited; a
few years later the Berlin decrees of Napoleon
and the orders in council of England practically
closed the ports of Europe to neutral vessels, and
American ship owners suffered greatly. As a
measure of retaliation an embargo law was passed
in 1807, which was followed by non-intercourse
laws. The heroic remedy involved in these meas-
ures was equivalent to cutting off a leg to cure
a corn, and, together with the commercial war
which ensued, worked a revolution in American
economy. Prevented from obtaining their usual
supplies from Europe, our people began to man-
ufacture on their own account, rendered sure of
a market by the war, and also by a doubling in
all tariff duties, which was done in 1812 as a war
measure. But a return of peace threatened to do
away with this artificial situation, in which many
factors were combining to stimulate the begin-
nings of industry, and this the manufacturers
clearly recognized. In February, 1816, Mr. Dal-
las, the secretary of the treasury, made a report
to congress on the tariff, and the committee on
commerce and manufactures laid before the house
a report in which a protective policy was strongly
urged. One month later Mr. Lowndes reported
a bill from the committee of ways and means.
Mr. Calhoun said in the course of debate that the
capital formerly employed in commerce had by
the war been turned into manufactures. “This,
if things continue as they are, will be its direction.
It will introduce a new era in our affairs, in many
respects highly advantageous, and Ought to be
countenanced by the government. * * He
then said, that war alone furnished sufficient stim-
ulus, and perhaps too much, as it would make
their growth unnaturally rapid; but that, on the
return of peace, it would then be time for us to
show our affection for them. But it will no
doubt be said, if they are so far established, and
if the situation of the country is so favorable to
their growth, Where is the necessity of affording
them protection? It is to put them beyond the
reach of contingency. Besides, capital is not yet,
and can not for some time be, adjusted to the new
state of things. There is, in fact, from the oper-
ation of temporary causes, a great pressure on
these establishments. They had extended So rap-
860
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
idly during the late war, that many, he feared,
were without the requisite surplus of capital or
skill to meet the present crisis. Should such
prove to be the fact, it would give a backset, and
might, to a great extent, endanger their ultimate
success. Should the present owners be ruined,
and the workmen dispersed and turned to other
pursuits, the country would sustain a great loss.
Such would, no doubt, be the fact to a consider-
able extent, if not protected.” (Works, vol. ii.,
p. 169.) This utterance is very significant as com-
ing from a southern man. In fact, in this in-
stance it was the south that favored, and the
north that opposed, protection; and Webster al-
ways referred to the tariff of 1816 as a South
Carolina measure. (Works, vol. iii., pp. 297, 502.)
Very little of the long debate that followed on
the bill has been preserved; the measure passed
the house by a vote of 88 to 54, and the Senate by
one of 25 to 7. It became a law April 27, 1816.
—This tariff not only marked the introduction of
an entirely new principle, being intended as a pro-
tective tariff in fact as well as in name, but there
was also a tendency to adopt, as far as possible,
specific duties. There was also introduced what
was called the minimum principle, which was in
effect a specific duty. Thus, the duty upon cot-
ton goods was 25 per cent., but all goods that cost
less than twenty-five cents per yard were to be
deemed to have cost twenty-five cents, on which
the duty at 25 per cent. would amount to six and
one-fourth cents, so that the minimum duty which
could be paid on cottons was six and one-fourth
cents per yard. Still, little was accomplished by
the measure. It was intended to break the fall of
the manufacturers, taking them gradually down
stairs instead of throwing them out of the win-
dow. But the enormous importations even under
the new rates of duties, while it filled the pub-
lic treasury, produced a revulsion in the markets
of a country already disturbed and impoverished
by the effects of the war. A period of specula-
tion was entered upon, and it was greatly aided
and its results aggravated by the excessive issues
of paper money. “The new tariff did not have
the anticipated effect in aiding manufactures; on
the other hand, by tempting larger investments in
the hope of anticipated profits, it increased the
competition, while it dilated the circle of manu-
facturing interests. The capital of New England
went more decidedly into that branch of industry,
so much so that the voice of New England be-
gan now to be decidedly on the side of protection.
There is no doubt but that competition had much
to do with the continued alleged distress of the
manufacturers,” a distress that was augmented by
depressed markets and the debilitating effects of
the war. The cry arose that more protection was
needed, that British manufacturers were in league
against American industry, and naturally ended in
an Organized movement for higher duties, in
spite of the mass of evidence offered that they
would, if granted, only produce more competition
and a more complex but artificial condition of in-
kets.
dustry. The crisis of 1819 materially aided the pro-
tectionists, who may now be recognized as a party,
and having an organ in Niles’ “Weekly Regis-
ter.” “National interests and domestic manufact-
ures” were taken up as a war cry, and societies
for the promotion of domestic industry were
formed in many states. These from time to time
held conventions, and formulated long addresses
to the people, in which the hard times, the fiend-
ishness of the British government and of British
manufacturers, and the necessity of higher du-
ties and more protection, were set forth in terms
calculated to make the blood of every American
boil. —This led up to an attempt in 1820 to pass
a high tariff measure, and to do away with the
credit system, which then applied to imports, and
was the forerunner of the modern warehouse sys-
tem. Auctions, by which it was claimed that the
country was flooded with foreign goods to the
detriment of domestic manufactures, were to be
taxed, in order that the number and transactions
might be diminished. Had the national finances
permitted such a reduction in revenue from cus-
toms, the tariff measure would have prohibited
the importation of iron, cottons and woolens, to
such an extent had the protective sentiment grown
among a very small but influential party. The
main support, however, for any further modifi-
cation in rates lay in the maintenance by foreign
nations of their restrictions upon trade. The
most important increase applied to cottons and
woolens. That on woolens was in retaliation
of the higher duties which England imposed
upon wools, and which threatened to entirely ex-
clude American wools from the English mar-
France heavily taxed our cotton. A fur-
ther grievance lay in the high duties imposed by
European nations upon wheat, which was an im-
portant article of export. Discriminating duties
on cotton brought from beyond the Cape of Good
Hope were favored, because it was claimed those
countries consumed 11one of our raw materials, af
forded no market for our produce, employed none
of our labor, and exhausted our specie. No act,
however, was passed, and no change was made
until 1824, when a general tariff measure became
a law. — The commercial and industrial condition
had remained much depressed since the crisis of
1819, which had resulted from overtrading and
reckless banking. According to Mr. Clay (speech,
March, 1824), the general distress of the coun-
try was indicated “by the diminished exports of
native produce; by the depressed and reduced
state of our foreign navigation; by our dimin-
ished commerce; by successive unthreshed crops
of grain, perishing in our barns and barn yards
for the want of a market; by the alarming dimi-
nution of the circulating medium; by the numer-
ous bankruptcies, not limited to the trading
classes, but extending to all orders of Society; by
a universal complaint of the want of employment,
and a consequent reduction of the wages of
labor; by the ravenous pursuit after public situa-
tions, not for the sake of their honors and the
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
861
performance of their public duties, but as a
means of private subsistence ; by the reluctant
resort to the perilous use of paper money; by the
Intervention of legislation in the delicate relation
petween debtor and creditor ; and, above all, by
the low and depressed state of the value of almost
every description of the whole mass of the prop-
erty of the nation.” He therefore thought it a
fitting time to introduce a “genuine American
policy,” the object of which was to create a home
market for the produce of American labor, and,
it may be added, a policy that would directly af.
ford relief to manufactures only. Mr. Webster
made a most masterly speech in reply, in the
course of which he questioned the universal dis-
tress of the country as depicted by Mr. Clay,
while admitting the depression, and said, “when
we talk, therefore, of protecting industry, let us
remember that the first measure for that end is to
Secure it in its earnings; to assure it that it shall
receive its own. Before we invent new modes of
raising prices, let us take care that existing prices
are not rendered wholly unavailable by making
them capable of being paid in depreciated paper.”
As the presidential election was then depending,
political matters were dragged into the debates,
and now for the first time it was seriously ques-
tioned whether congress had the constitutional
power to pass a measure purely for protection,
and not as a revenue act. The debates in the
house lasted more than ten Weeks, and then the
bill passed by only a majority of five votes, sev-
eral of the members being brought into the hall on
their sick couches in order that their votes might
not be lost. In the senate it commanded a major-
ity of four votes. It could not be regarded as a
political measure, nor yet as a party question.
Adams, Clay and Jackson, all voted for it; the
southern states were dissatisfied with the result,
as was also New England. But as iron, wool,
hemp and sugar received protection, a combina-
tion of the western and middle states received
sufficient support to pass the bill. The average
rate of duties under the law of May 22, 1824, was
37 per cent. — Those who supposed that the pro-
tectionists would be contented with their victory
were much mistaken. No sooner was the tariff of
1824 gained, when an agitation for higher duties
was begun, the general depression and the illib-
eral commercial policies of other nations being
the main pretexts.
ing place in England, which in a measure com-
pelled the protectionists to seek new reasons for
their movement. The trade between the United
States and the West Indics had becn the cause of
much retaliatory legislation on the part of Great
Britain and this country since 1815; but in spite
of restrictions and prohibitions a profitable though
illegal commerce was maintained by American
merchants. The measures adopted by the English
parliament had not only aroused our congress, but
had given rise to threats of retaliation on the part
of other European nations. Mr. Huskisson, then
president of the English board of trade, was wise
A change, however, was tak-
enough to recognize the necessity of a change in
commercial policy, and inaugurated his system of
reciprocity in 1823, which was carried into effect
in the following year. This marks the first breach
made in England’s protective system, and logic-
ally led up to the repeal of the corn laws and the
abolition of all protective duties, so that at the very
time that England was throwing open her ports
and removing the restrictions that were imposed
on her commerce, the United States was preparing
to increase the tariff and raise higher the barriers
which were intended to limit her foreign trade.
— In 1825 a financial crisis occurred, which was
caused by a great expansion in the paper circula-
tion, and was precipitated by extensive failures in
London. This gave the protectionists an oppor-
tunity to attribute the distress to the operation of
the tariff of 1824. The importations were large;
and, owing to changes in the English customs by
which important advantages were gained by the
Bnglish manufacturers, it was argued that the
woolen industry, which had grown enormously
since the peace, encouraged by the federal legisla-
tion, would be ruined unless further protection
was afforded. This indicated a marked change
in policy, as Prof. Sumner points out. Former-
ly the “American system’ meant retaliation to
force a foreign nation to break down its protect-
ive system; it was now an instrument to counter-
vail and offset any foreign legislation, even in the
direction of freedom and reform or advance in
civilization, if that legislation favored the Amer-
ican consumer. (Life of Jackson, pp. 196,
198.) — Another marked change of opinion was
now seen. New England had heretofore opposed
protection as hostile to her commercial interests.
Manufactures were now springing up in those
states, and had made such progress as to create a
revulsion in public sentiment ; and in 1826 a peti-
tion went up from Boston, praying for higher
duties on woolens in order to protect this impor-
tant industry in New England. In 1827 a bill to
increase the duties on woolens passed the house,
but failed to become a law. Even Buchanan, of
Pennsylvania, a good protectionist, was opposed
to it, “as prohibitive in its nature, and in no
shape one for revenue. He had voted for the
protection upon woolens in 1824, but that was no
reason why he should favor the prohibition now
proposed.” “Politics ran very high on this bill.
In fact, they quite superseded all the economic
interests. * * Passion began now to enter into .
tariff discussion, not only on the part of the
southerners, but also between the wool men and
the woolen men, each of whom thought the other
grasping, and that each was to be defeated in his
purpose by the other.” (Sumner.) The rejection
of the measure, however, only served to increase
the efforts of its friends. A convention of wool
growers and manufacturers was held in July,
1827, at Harrisburg, and the iron, glass, wool,
woolen, hemp and flax interests were represented,
and asked to be recognized in any scheme of pro-
tection. The presidential election was to occur
862
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
in the next year, and the tariff was made a leading
issue. The sectional feeling was being strongly
developed. The planting states of the south be-
came more determined to resist a policy which
they regarded as benefiting the north at their ex-
pense, and the north and east became more urgent
in demanding a continuance of a system which,
they alleged, had tempted their capital into in-
vestments that must inevitably be ruined, unless
the protective policy was not only maintained, but
extended. The secretary of the treasury, Mr.
Rush, took up the question in his report, and
claimed, that, as the land laws of the country
protected agriculture, at least a like amount of
protection should be given to industry. (See ar-
ticle on PUBLIC LANDS in this volume, p. 472.)
— A tariff bill was drawn up by Silas Wright,
of New York, and he defended its protective
features on the ground that “it was intended
to turn the manufacturing capital of the coun-
try to the working up of domestic raw material,
and not foreign raw materials.” What followed
can best be described in the words of Prof. Sum-
ner: “Mallary tried to introduce those proposi-
tions [of the Harrisburg convention] as amend-
ments on the floor of the house. All the inter-
sests, industrial and political, pounced upon the
bill to try to amend it to their notions. New En-
gland and the Adams men wanted high duties on
woolens and cottons, and low duties on wool,
iron, hemp, salt and molasses (the raw material of
rum). Pennsylvania, Ohio and Kentucky wanted
high taxes on iron, wool, hemp, molasses (protec-
tion to whisky), and low taxes on woolens and
cottons. The southerners wanted low taxes on
everything, but especially on finished goods, and
if there were to be heavy taxes on these latter
they did not care how heavy the taxes on the raw
materials were made. * * The act which re-
sulted from the scramble of selfish special interests
was an economic monstrosity.” The legislature
Of South Carolina protested against the bill, but it
passed by a vote of 105 to 74. Mr. Wilde moved
to amend the title by adding the words “and for
the encouragement of domestic manufactures,” a
motion that was opposed by Mr. Randolph, be-
Cause he said domestic manufactures were those
Carried on in the families of farmers, and “this
bill was to rob and plunder one-half of the Union
for the benefit of the residue.” Mr. Drayton also
moved to change the title so that it might read
“in order to increase the profits of certain man-
ufactures.” The tariff of 1828 become known as
the ‘‘tariff of abominations.” It was the imme-
diate cause of the nullification movement. (See
NULLIFICATION.) — In her protest against the
tariff law of 1828 South Carolina spoke of it as
“in violation of state rights, and a usurpation by
congress of powers not granted to it by the con-
stitution; that the power to encourage domestic
industry is inconsistent with the idea of any other
than a consolidated government; that the power
to protect manufactures is nowhere granted to
congress, but, on the other hand, is reserved to
the states; that, if it had the power, yet a tariff
grossly unequal and oppressive is such an abuse
of that power as is incompatible with a free gov-
ernment; that the interests of South Carolina are
agricultural, and to cut off her foreign market,
and confine her products to an inadequate home
market, is to reduce her to poverty. For these
and other reasons the state protests against the
tariff as unconstitutional, oppressive and unjust.”
North Carolina also protested against the law, and
Alabama and Georgia denied the power of con-
gress to lay duties for protection. In 1829 the
feeling in the southern states was very strong
against the tariff, and threats of nullification and
secession were freely made. In 1830 the tariff was
more strictly enforced in spite of a movement
looking to reductions in the rates of duties, and
in the following year a free trade convention was
convened at Philadelphia, and the protectionists
met in New York. Addresses to congress were
issued by each faction, and the next session of
congress was full of the tariff. The president had
recommended a revision in his message, and the
discontent of the south became more and more ap-
parent. Two bills were prepared by the commit-
tee of ways and means, and a third was presented
by the committee on manufactures; the secretary
of the treasury had his bill, and the Senate com-
piled the fifth measure. The result was the pas-
sage of a bill which maintained all of the protect-
ive features of the tariff of 1828 while reducing
or abolishing many of the revenue taxes. The
tax on iron was reduced, that on cottons was
unchanged, and that on woolens was increased,
while some of the raw wools were made free of
duty. This measure was passed on July 14, 1832;
in November a convention in South Carolina de-
clared the acts of 1828 and 1832 null and void in
that state. The president issued his proclamation
against nullification, and in his annual message
advocated as early a reduction of duties to the
revenue standard as a just regard to the faith of
the government, and to the preservation of the
large capital invested in establishments of domes-
tic industry, might permit. In January, 1833, a
bill to enforce the revenue laws was reported to
congress. The state legislatures took a part in the
controversy. Alabama, Georgia and North Caro-
lina condemned the tariff as unconstitutional,
while New Hampshire passed resolutions in favor
of reducing the tariff to the revenue standard.
Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Vermont, New Jer-
sey and Pennsylvania thought that the tariff
ought not to be reduced. In February Mr. Clay in-
troduced a measure that was intended as a substi-
tute for all tariff bills then pending, and looked
toward a gradual reduction in duties: of all duties
which were over 20 per cent. by the act of 1832,
one-tenth of the excess over 20 per cent. Was to be
struck off after September, 1835, and one-tenth
each alternate year thereafter until 1841. As
first drawn the preamble stated that, after March,
1840, all duties should be equal, “and solely for
the purpose and with the intent of providing such
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
863
revenue as may be necessary to an economical ex-
penditure by the government, without regard to
the protection or encouragement of any branch of
domestic industry whatever.” The enforcing and
tariff acts were carried through together. This
was the famous “ compromise” tariff, and was
followed by a repeal on the part of South Carolina
of the nullification law. “This tariff,” says Sum-
ner, in his “History of American Currency,”
“was deceptive and complicated. It had no prin-
ciple of economic science at its root—neither pro-
tection, nor free trade. It was patched up as a
concession, although it really made very little, and
its provisions were so intricate and contradictory
that it produced little revenue. Specific duties
were unaffected by it, and these included books,
paper, glass and sugar. It did not run its course
without important modifications in favor of pro-
tection, for it could not bind future congresses,
and the doctrine of the horizontal rate of 20 per
£ent.—a doctrine which had no scientific basis—
produced an increase on many articles.” Else-
where the same writer speaks of it as a “pure
political makeshift,” in which the public and pri-
vate interests had no consideration.” (Mr. Ben-
ton, in his “Thirty Years in the United States
Senate,” has several chapters on this measure,
which should be consulted.) — The four years
after 1833 were marked by great speculation,
which was chiefly directed toward schemes of in-
ternal improvement, and culminated in the crisis
of 1837. The depression that naturally followed
was made use of by protectionists, and hard times,
produced by low duties and insufficient protec-
tion, was again a prominent cry. In spite of the
fact that in 1836 the government was in a posi-
tion to distribute a large surplus revenue among
the states, in 1838 it stood in need of a larger
income. The compromise bill had guaranteed
that after 1842 the highest duty levied should
not exceed 20 per cent. except in case of war,
and in order to maintain this guarantee a 20 per
cent. duty was levied upon many new commodi-
ties, but without producing the requisite increase
of revenue. In 1841 a home league was formed,
the purpose of which was to agitate for high
duties, and the president's message gave an op-
portunity for a general discussion of the subject
in congress. A provisional tariff bill, by which
the operations of the existing tariff were to be con-
tinued until August, 1842, passed the house, but
in the Senate was amended by a proviso postpon-
ing the distribution of the proceeds of the public
lands until the same date. The president vetoed
it, on the ground that if abrogated the provisions
of the “compromise act,” and for other reasons.
Congress did not pass the measure over the presi-
dent’s veto, but incorporated the same proviso
respecting distribution into a general tariff law,
which suffered the same fate. The president ob-
jected to it, first, on the ground that the bill
united two subjects which, so far from having
any affinity to one another, were wholly incon-
gruous in their character, as it was both a rev-
enue and an appropriation bill; secondly, the
treasury being in a state of extreme embarrass-
ment, the bill proposed to give away a fruitful
source of revenue, a proceeding which he re-
garded as being highly impolitic, if not uncon
stitutional; and thirdly, because it was also in
violation of what was intended to be inviolable
as a compromise in relation to the tariff system.
A general tariff act was passed without the ob-
noxious clause, and was a return to protection.
The average rate of duty levied upon dutiable
imports was about 33 per cent., and the prin-
ciple of “home valuations,” which had been
adopted in the Čompromise tariff, was dropped.
In 1844. Mr. Polk became president, and, as a
southern man, it was expected that he would
advocate a policy other than protective as a ba-
sis for tariff revision. — It will now be conve-
nient to note some of the changes in circum-
stances that had occurred since 1825. Up to that
time, as I have already said, the main object of
the tariff was to countervail the restrictive com-
mercial policy of other nations. It was an instru-
ment for retaliation, by which it was hoped that
concessions could be wrung from those countries
with which we might have commercial relations.
“To all the powers that wish “free trade,’ we
say, Let free trade be; to all that will restrict us,
we say, Let restriction be.” So wrote that ardent
protectionist, Niles, in 1826. Now, however, when
England was preparing to mitigate the many lim-
itations and restrictions that she had imposed
upon her foreign commerce, it was claimed that
her action would prove of injury to American in-
terests, industrial and commercial, and that we
must increase our restrictions in order that these
interests might not suffer, but be amply protected.
When Great Britain reduced the tariff on wools,
a commodity that congress had more highly taxed
in 1824, Mr. Everett said, “Unless the American
people think it just and fair that the laws passed
by the American congress for the protection of
American industry should be repealed by the
British parliament, and that for the purpose of
securing the supply of our market to the British
manufacturer to the end of time, it was the duty
of congress to counteract this movement,” and
again, “Believing, of course, that there is no wish
to single it out (the manufacture of woolens) for
unfriendly legislation at home, I can not sit still,
and see the gigantic arm of the British govern-
ment stretched out across the Atlantic, avowedly
to crush it.” In 1832 the doctrine that a high
tariff meant low prices was prominently advanced,
and somewhat later the balance of trade theory,
the excess of imports over exports, causing a
drain of specie to the manifest impoverishment of
the country, was harped upon. But all through
this period the expediency and necessity of pro-
tecting “infant industries” were constantly de-
pended upon by the defenders of the “American
policy,” and as a corollary to this a home market
for the agricultural productions of the country,
now excluded from foreign markets, was to be
864.
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
created and maintained. In 1839 the agitation
against the corn laws was begun in England, and
resulted in their repeal in 1846. In 1849 another
important step was taken, in the repeal of the
navigation laws. Meanwhile a change was oc-
curring in the complexion of the tariff debates in
this country. “In the presidential campaign of
1840, protection was advocated, I believe for the
first time, on the ground that American labor
should be protected from the competition of less
highly paid foreign labor. The pauper-labor argu-
ment appeared full-fledged in the tariff debates of
1842; and since that time it has remained the chief
consideration impressed on the popular mind in
connection with the tariff.” (Taussig.)—Mr. Polk,
in his inaugural address, was conservative. “I
have heretofore declared to my fellow-citizens,
that in my judgment it is the duty of the govern-
ment to extend, as far as may be practicable to do
so, by its revenue laws, and all other means with-
in its power, fair and just protection to all the
great interests of the whole Union, embracing
agriculture, manufactures, the mechanic arts,
commerce and navigation. I have also declared
my opinion to be in favor of a tariff for revenue;
and that, in adjusting the details of such a tariff,
I have sanctioned such moderate discriminating
duties as would produce the amount of revenue
needed, and, at the same time, afford reasonable
incidental protection to our home industry; and
that I was opposed to a tariff for protection mere-
ly, and not for revenue.” While Mr. Polk thus
confined himself to general phrases, his secretary
of the treasury, Mr. Robert J. Walker, prepared
a report in which his treatment of the tariff ques-
tion deserves to be ranked with Hamilton's famous
report on manufactures. It stamped Mr. Walker
as an economist and practical financier of the
highest order, and his utterances mark an impor-
tant stage of tariff legislation in this country.
He laid down the following general principles as
a basis for revising the revenue laws: 1, that no
more money should be collected than is necessary
for the wants of the government, economically
administered; 2, that no duty be imposed on any
article above the lowest rate which will yield the
largest amount of revenue; 3, that below such
rate discrimination may be made, descending in
the scale of duties, or, for imperative reasons,
the article may be placed in the list of those free
from all duty; 4, that the maximum revenue duty
should be imposed on luxuries; 5, that all mini-
mums and all specific duties should be abolished,
and ad valorem duties substituted in their place,
care being taken to guard against fraudulent in-
voices and undervaluation, and to assess the duty
upon the actual market value; 6, that the duty
should be so imposed as to operate as equally as
possible throughout the Union, discriminating
neither for nor against any class or section. — In
accordance with Mr. Walker's views, the tariff of
1846 was framed. He divided his classification
into nine schedules, each of which had its own
rate of duty (comprising many articles), running
from 100 per cent. (distilled spirits and brandy),
down to 5 per cent. (the raw materials of manu-
facture). This number of schedules was in the
bill altered to eight, and the highest duty levied
was 75 per cent. ad valorem. The bill also al-
lowed the warehousing privilege for the first time.
(See WAREHOUSE SYSTEM.) After a general de-
bate the measure passed the house by a vote of
114 to 95, but was nearly killed in the senate, be-
ing passed only by the casting vote of the presi-
dent of the senate. The average rate of duty un-
der this act was 25 per cent, advalorem, and it pro-
duced an average annual revenue of $46,000,000,
as against one of $26,000,000 under the tariff of
1842. — Of the consequences of this “revenue
tariff of 1846,” Prof. Sumner says: “The period
from 1846 to 1860 was our period of comparative
free trade. The sub-treasury act of 1846 removed
subjects of currency and banking from national
legislation. Thus these two topics were for a
time laid aside. For an industrial history of the
United States, no period presents greater interest
than this. It was a period of very great and very
solid prosperity. The tariff was bad and vexa-
tious in many ways, if we regard it from the
standpoint either of free trade or revenue tariff,
but its rates were low and its effects limited. It
was called ‘a revenue tariff with incidental pro-
tection.” The manufactures which, it had been
said, would perish, did not perish, and did not
gain sudden and exorbitant profits. They made
steady and genuine progress. The repeal of the
English corn laws in 1846 opened a large market
for American agricultural products, and took away
the old argument which Niles and Carey had used
with such force, that England wanted other coun-
tries to have free trade, but would not take their
products. The effect on both countries was most
happy. It seemed as if the old system was gone
forever, and that these two great nations, with
free industry and free trade, were to pour in-
creased wealth upon each other. The fierce dog-
matism of protection and its deeply rooted prej-
udices seemed to have undergone a fatal blow.
Our shipping rapidly increased. Our cotton crop
grew larger and larger. The discovery of gold
in California added mightily to the expansion of
prosperity. The states, indeed, repeated our old
currency follies, and the panic of 1857 resulted,
but it was only a stumble in a career of headlong
prosperity. We recovered from it in a twelve-
month. Slavery agitation marked this period
politically, and if people look back to it now
they think most of that ; but industrially and
economically, and I will add also, in the admin-
istration of the government, the period from the
Mexican to the civil war is our golden age, if
we have any. As far as the balance of trade is
concerned, it never was more regular and equal
than in this period.” (Lectures on Protection, p.
54.)— The revenue collected under this tariff was
so large, that, in 1857, it became necessary to re-
duce it, as the circulating medium of the country
was being locked up in the treasury. An attempt
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
865
was made to pass a protective tariff, but it was
defeated. The secretary of the treasury had rec-
Ommended that raw materials should be made free
of duty, and also salt, as a necessity for the west-
ern packer. The eastern manufacturers favored
this measure, and wool was the most difficult
commodity to rate, as the west wished it made
dutiable and protected. The tariff of 1857 was
denounced as the result of a “fraudulent com-
bination of those who favored the protection of
hemp, sugar, iron and the woolen manufactures
of Massachusetts. It was a blow at the wool
grower.” By this act the average duty was low-
ered to about 20 per cent. ad valorem.—The crisis
of 1857 was followed by deficits in the government
finances, and it became necessary to revise the
tariff. In 1861 a measure known as the “Morrill
tariff” was passed, which was a decided step
toward a protective measure, but it remained in
force only a few months. The war created ne-
cessities which compelled the government to seek
every possible source of revenue, and while the
dilatory and tentative tax methods applied in the
first years of the war only complicated matters, and
forced the government to have recourse to that
most dangerous of financial expedients, an irre-
deemable paper currency, the tax privilege was
exercised as far as it could be before the end of
the war. In these years the tariff was carried
from a low and revenue rate of duty to one of
extreme protection—not for the sake of protec-
tion, but in order to obtain revenue. An internal
revenue system that was all-pervading was im-
posed, and it was to counteract the high taxes lev-
ied under this system that many of the tariff duties
were carried to such an excessive point. Measure
after measure raising duties was adopted between
the years 1861 and 1866, and it was inevitable that
protective duties should creep in. Settled policy
there was none, and while revenue was always the
plea for action, the duties imposed often defeated
that plea, by becoming prohibitive. Everything
was taxed, and, under customs and excise laws,
commodities might be taxed many times. On the
return of peace the important changes made ap-
plied chiefly to the internal revenue system, and
the perpetual tinkering of the tariff had served to
bring out in bold relief the many protective fea-
tures it contained. “With the termination of the
war,” writes Mr. David A. Wells when special
commissioner of the revenues, “and with accruing
receipts from the tariff in excess of the actual re-
Quirements of the treasury, the popular tendency,
as expressed by legislation, accomplished or pro-
jected, has been to reverse the order of importance
Of these two principles, and to make the idea of
revenue subordinate to protection rather than pro-
tection subordinate to revenue. And in carrying
Out, furthermore, the idea of protection, but one
rule for guidance would appear to have been
adopted for legislation, viz., the assumption that
whatever rate of duty could be shown to be for
the advantage of any private interest, the same
Would prove equally advantageous to the interests
174 VOL. III. — 55
of the whole country. The result has been a tariff
based upon Small issues rather than upon any great
national principle; a tariff which is unjust and
unequal; which needlessly enhances prices; which
takes far more indirectly from the people than is
received into the treasury; which renders an ex-
change of domestic for foreign commodities nearly
impossible ; which necessitates the continual ex-
portation of obligations of national indebtedness
and of the precious metals; and which, while pro-
fessing to protect American industry, really, in
many cases, discriminates against it. * * One
of the first things that an analysis [of the existing
tariff] will show is, that every interest that has been
strong enough or sufficiently persistent to secure
efficient representation at Washington, has received
a full measure of attention, while every other in-
terest that has not had sufficient strength behind it
to prompt to action has been imperfectly treated,
or entirely neglected.”—The effect of the com-
missioner’s recommendations was to lead up to a
general debate on taxation in 1870. A bill which
originally proposed to touch only internal duties,
was gradually enlarged until it covered not only
excise, but also customs duties. Protection had
now become a cardinal principle of the repub-
lican party, the party in power, and most of the
protective features of the tariff were retained un-
der the new measure, which became a law July
14, 1870, and whatever reductions were made ap-
plied to commodities in common use, like tea,
coffee, sugar, etc., or luxuries, like wines, spirits,
brandy, etc. The reduction in revenue by these
changes was estimated to be about $29,000,000,
and at the same time internal taxes to the amount
of $55,000,000 were removed. The real burden of
the tariff was hardly lightened, as the high duties
on the necessaries of life remained. In 1871 an at-
tempt was made to repeal the duty on coal, but it
failed. The question of protection, however, came
up, and to prevent further discussion the duties
were removed from tea and coffee (1872), and in
the same year a general tariff was passed, which
still left the protective duties almost unchanged;
admitting large classes of manufactures to a re-
duction of 10 per cent. without designating spe-
cifically the articles to which the reduction should
apply. Between March 1, 1861, and March 4,
1873, fourteen principal statutes relating to classi-
fication and rates, besides twenty other acts or
resolutions modifying tariff acts, had been passed,
and parts of each were in force. To this must be
added the laws passed prior to 1861, and under
which customs were still collected. This created
great doubt as to what was the law, and the un-
certainty gave much trouble to the government,
and involved the importers in costly litigation and
imposed upon them vexatious delays. “Under
these various enactments, questions relating to the
proper assessment of duties constantly arise. There
is often a direct conflict between different statutes,
and occasionally between two or more provisions
of the same statute, while single provisions are
frequently held to embrace different meanings.
866
TARIFFS OF THE UNITED STATES.
These differences can be settled only by arbitrary
interpretations or by adjudications in court. * *
The number of statutory appeals to the secretary
of the treasury on tariff questions during the last
fiscal year (1873) was 4,731, exclusive of miscella-
neous cases or applications for relief, numbering
5,065.”—The financial crisis of 1873 naturally had
some influence upon the revenues of the govern-
ment, and in 1874 the cry was raised that the gov-
ernment finances were embarrassed through too
large reduction in taxes. This allowed the protec-
tionists an opportunity to carry a measure through
congress restoring the 10 per cent. duties upon
commodities which had been taken off in 1872,
and also to increase by one-fourth the duties on
sugar. While these movements precluded all idea
of revising the tariff so as to return to a revenue
standard of duties, yet great dissatisfaction was
expressed with the operation of the law. I have
just noted one of the difficulties connected with its
administration, that of being needlessly complex.
Other objections to it consisted in the great stim-
ulus it gave to smuggling and undervaluation
of imports, practices which even the honest im-
porter was forced, in self-defense, to adopt. More-
over, the law became each year more and more
complicated. It consisted, first, of the act of con-
gress; second, of the decisions of the treasury
officials interpreting the law, and these decisions
had the force of law and were unchangeable; and,
finally, of the decisions of the courts. The expe-
diency, and even the necessity, of a revision, now
became more and more urgent. “The revised
tariff,” writes the secretary in 1875, “contains
thirteen schedules, embracing upward of 1,500
dutiable articles which are either distinctly speci-
fied or included in general or special classifica-
tions. To these must be added nearly 1,000 arti-
cles not enumerated, but which under the general
provisions of two sections of the law, would be
assigned a place as dutiable either by virtue of
similitude to some enumerated article, or as arti-
cles, manufactured or unmanufactured, not other-
wise provided for, making over 2,500 in all. The
free list contains an enumeration of over 600 arti-
cles, thus constituting a total aggregate of more
than 3,000 articles embraced by the tariff either
as dutiable or free. Of the articles subject to
duty, and either named in, or subject to, specific
classification by schedule, 823 pay ad valorem rates
varying from 10 to 75 per cent.; 541 pay specific
duties, according to quantity or weight; and 160
pay compound, or both specific and ad valorem,
rates.”— Not only was a sentiment against the
tariff being created on account of its many un-
reasonable and exorbitant features, but a like feel-
ing was engendered by a desire to reduce war tax-
ation to the limits that an economical administra-
tion of the government required. The largest
sum collected from customs in any one year was
in 1872, when it had attained the amount of
$216,370,286. During the years of depression
that followed the crisis of 1873 the receipts
from this source steadily dwindled, reaching
their lowest point in 1878, when they were only
$130,170,680. An improvement then became
manifest, and in the following years the increase
was enormous, giving, in connection with other
Sources of revenue, a revenue largely in excess
of the wants of the government. In 1880
this surplus revenue was nearly $66,000,000; in
1881, more than $100,000,000; and in 1882,
$146,000,000. An examination of the annual
appropriation bills for these years will show that
expenditure kept pace with revenue. While
these bills do not take into account the permanent
appropriations—providing for the debt, for the
collection of customs, etc.—yet, as they are pre-
pared by the executive departments of the govern-
ment, they give a better idea of the general tenden-
cies of governmental expenditure than would the
amounts actually expended. The total amounts
appropriated by these bills vary from year to year,
but they vary in a general way with the revenue
of the government—increasing when the revenue
increases, and decreasing when it becomes less.
The ten years that followed 1873 gave a proof of
this. The public income had hardly begun to be
affected by the crash of 1873 when the appropria-
tions for 1874 were framed; but from that year
until 1878 there was a steady decrease. Beginning
with the bill for 1881, when the effects of the revi-
val of trade and industry in 1879 were beginning
to be felt, the appropriations greatly increased,
and culminated in the notorious bill for 1883,
which included two of the most notorious legis-
lative swindles that could be perpetrated—the river
and harbor bill, and the arrears of pensions act.
As the surplus revenue in the treasury increased,
the demands upon it became greater, and the
greater the surplus the more questionable became
the schemes for spending it. The accumulation
of such a balance was a source of danger, and a
constant temptation to jobbers and Swindlers who
originate and live upon superfluous public ex-
penditure. — It was now seen that Some changes
in the tariff would become necessary, not only for
the purpose of simplifying its provisions, but also
as a means of removing tax burdens from the peo-
ple. The old question of revenue or protective
taxation was revived, and it became manifest that
the battle was to be fought on that line. While
all right-minded persons.saw that taxes should be
reduced, when it came to a discussion of methods,
a hopeless disagreement arose. Those who fa-
vored protection were desirous of abolishing all
internal taxes in order that the tariff might remain
untouched. The other side wished to reduce the
tariff, and take from it the many extravagant pro-
tective features. Several measures of tariff reform
were defeated in these years, and no final Or de-
cisive action was taken until 1882, when CongreSS
turned the subject over to a commission of nine
members taken from civil life, for consideration.
It was evident that here was an excellent Oppor-
tunity offered for a satisfactory solution of the
question. There was a general demand for re-
duced duties; even protectionists were willing to
TARTAR, TARTARY.
867
submit to such a reduction. The presidential
campaign of 1880 had been fought on the issue
of the tariff, but in that blind and unreasonable
Way that settled nothing, though awakening a
Spirit of inquiry. This had given strength to
many movements in favor of revenue reform, es-
pecially in the western states, and it was in answer
to this feeling, which was developing into a po-
litical force, that the commission measure was
adopted, because it was believed that such a plan
would produce the best and speediest results. The
president, who had the appointment of the mem-
bers of the commission, nullified whatever of ben-
efit might be expected of it, for he took men who
were directly interested in the maintenance of
Thigh protection. Of the nine men chosen there
was not one who could pretend to be a student of
economic principles, not one who could have ex-
plained the incidence of a tax. The influence of
the lobby in framing tariff legislation had become
notorious, but in this commission the lobby influ-
‘ence was maintained, and allowed even better op-
portunities for carrying its point than it enjoyed
before. The commission traveled over a part
of the country taking testimony, and made its
report to congress. It was afterward developed
that the schedules of duties presented with the
report had been prepared by men who were them-
selves manufacturers and therefore interested in
keeping intact protection. The report, while
promising a reduction in duties, contained some
of the most barefaced attempts to double and
triple duties; while making a pretense to revise
and reform the tariff, it was but a juggle and a
'sham. The members of the commission (with one
honorable exception, Mr. McMahon, whose tech-
nical knowledge of the operation of the then ex-
isting tariff was of great service) were wholly
unfitted for the work intrusted to them, and as a
consequence the results of their labors were of
little value. One year had thus been wasted. —
Mor were the events that followed the presenta-
tion of this report calculated to increase the ex-
pectation that the subject of revenue reform would
be adequately handled by congress. The senate,
rejecting the commission schedules, prepared a bill
of its own; and the house also framed a new bill
for its own consideration. The whole session of
1882–3 was given over to a discussion of these va-
rious measures, schedule by schedule, and line by
line. Every possible difference of opinion was
developed in these debates; but, as the high tariff
party was in the majority, little toward a reduction
of duties could be accomplished. A large number
of ad valorem duties were made specific, though
no change in the actual amount of tax was thus
brought about. Owing to its being a short ses-
sion, the house was unable to complete the consid-
eration of its own bill, and took up that of the sen-
ate. Some differences being developed, they were
referred to a conference committee, in which the
high protectionists had a large majority. Here
many changes were made, Some of which had
been voted down in both houses, and the re-
Sulting hybrid measure became a law one day
before the session closed, no time being given for
an examination of the recommendations of the
conference committee. The law, however, satis-
fied no one, and there is every likelihood that the
whole tariff will be again revised at no late day.
— Meagre as this outline is, it is enough to show
that the United States has never had a tariff that
was at all suited to its industrial and commercial
interests since the first revenue tariff imposed be-
fore 1826. And as the average rate of the tariff
has increased it has become more and more injuri-
ous to the interests involved, as no high tariff can
be applied to such various conditions as are to be
found in this country without doing as much mis-
chief to one part as good to another. — AUTHORI-
TIES. Prof. Wm. G. Sumner's Lectures on the
History of Protection, Life of Andrew Jackson and
History of American Currency. The writings of
Henry C. Carey and H. C. Baird. There is no
good history of the finances of the country in the
English language. The pretentious work of A.
S. Bolles is unsatisfactory, and the facts are much
distorted. Niles' Weekly Register contains much
valuable material, and the writings of Condy
Raquet, now quite scarce, should be carefully
read. The public documents contain many ex-
ceedingly valuable reports on the tariff, and the
proceedings of some early conventions (1819, 1831,
etc.) throw much light upon the effects of tariff
legislation. Mr. David A. Wells has contributed
much to a proper understanding of the last war
tariff, and stands well to the front in the great
number of writers who have given attention to
this subject. A special Report on Customs-Tariff
Legislation was prepared by the Bureau of Statis-
tics in 1873, and the provisions of the laws are
fully given, as also in Heyl's and Williams’ two
Manuals. WORTHINGTON C. FORD.
TARTAR, TARTARY. The Chinese Tā-tá,
or Tă-tar, was originally a generic term for tribu-
tary or vassal peoples, especially of those hordes
inhabiting the plateaus of northern Asia beyond
the great wall which was built to repel them.
One sinologue finds the derivation of the word in
One of the forms of obeisance in vogue among the
tribes of Mongolia, in which the foot is struck on
the ground, and a prominent article of dress, usu-
ally worn in front, is at the same moment thrown
behind. The leaders of most of the uprisings of
population in the grassy plateaus of central Asia
that have emerged into history, spurning the epi-
thet of Tà-tars, have taken to themselves various
dynastic names, such as Hun, Turk, Liao, Kitan,
Kin, Mongol, Manchiu, etc. Genghis Khan, for
instance, gave to his people the name Mongols
(Mungku-jin), “braves,” in order to show that
they were no longer Tă-tars, or tributaries, but
conquerors. When the Mongols invaded Asia, and
even Europe, overrunning Russia, and covering
it with ashes and blood, the Christian monks,
struck with the resemblance of the word Tă-tar to
Tartarus, and ready to associate these centaurs—
868
TA-TSING.
man and horse being as one animal—with devils
from hell, called them “Tartars.”
incorrect English spelling. Gradually the word
Tartary was applied to all the lands ruled by the
Mongols—the whole of eastern Europe, and cen-
tral Asia; “European Tartary'' was that part of
Russia occupied by the Mongols, while “Asiatic
Tartary’ stretched from the Caspian to the Yel-
low sea. As the Mongols were by degrees ex-
pelled from Russia, the term was restricted to the
Crimea (settled by the Crim Tătars) and to the
Chinese dependencies north and west of the great
wall. As Chinese geography was better under-
stood, the once vague and elastic term more and
more lost value as a geographical expression. It
continued to be applied, however, to that part of
Turkestan which was until lately neither Chinese
nor Russian—an annually decreasing territory.
Since the Russian campaigns under Kauffman
and Skobeloff, resulting in the fall of Khiva (1873),
of Khokand (1876), and of Merv (1879–80), the
whole of “Independent Turkestan” may be con-
sidered part of Russian territory, since it has been
formally annexed. In 1882 deputations of the in-
habitants to St. Petersburg gave their formal ad-
herence to the czar. With this extension of Rus-
sian arms to the very borders of Afghanistan,
“Tartary’ ceases to be a proper geographical
expression. In China, the term “Tā-tar” is pop-
ularly applied to the Mongols beyond the great
wall, and, by ultra-patriotic haters of the ruling
dynasty, to Manchius in general; but it is so mixed
up with opprobrious epithets, such as “horsey,”
“raw,” “green,” etc., that the word is not in good
repute among writers. In central Asia, “Turk”
and “Tă-tar” are synonymous. Foreigners dis-
tinguish the Chinese from their Manchiu conque-
rors, and we read in works of travel and history of
“the Tartar city,” “the Tartar garrison,” as parts
of Peking, Canton, etc. — Ethnologically the
“Tartars” are the Altaian group of tribes and na-
tions, not of Aryan blood, that did once, or do now,
inhabit the lands of northern and central Asia,
including the Scythians of classic writers, the
Huns, the Turks, Kirghez, Calmucks, Mongols,
Manchius, Tungusians, the various peoples of
Turkestan, with many tribes now greatly modi-
fied by Aryan admixture, with others as widely
scattered as the Tamils of southern India on the
one hand, and the Coreans and Japanese on the
other, between whose languages modern linguists
(Thirwall, Dallet, Ross, Edkins, Aston, Chamber-
lain) have demonstrated close affinities. Notwith-
standing all variations from the original type,
the Tătar face has high cheek bones, thick nose
depressed at the roots, scanty beard, round skull,
and narrow, slit-like eyes, with a peculiar restless
expression, which is the same whether in Con-
stantinople or in Tökiö. Balfour thus pictures
from life the Manchiu and the Chinese, or the
“Tartar,” and the native Mandarin. “The Man-
chiu has a dark complexion and roughish skin;
he is a large-boned man; his face is long and lan.
tern-jawed; he has a wide mouth, and a firm, de-
Hence, our .
cided nose. The expression of his eyes is shrewd.
and under the gloss of etiquette you can detect
the natural fierceness of the nomad. The Chinese
is the exact reverse. His build is small and flexi-
ble; his face—round, unctuous and fat, unseared
by the suspicion of a wrinkle—is the color of
Devonshire cream. His movements are graceful
and suave; they give you the idea of liberally-oiled
joints; his hands are delicate, slim, and very
plump; his expression is courtly; he has a win-
ning smile and bow for every one. * * Good
emperors are not made of such material.” The
Tā-tar hordes which have repeatedly rushed out of
the north into China, have kept the hoary empire
periodically infused with fresh blood and vigor
and new imperial dynasties. Yet, though able to
conquer, destroy or build on a well-established
foundation, they have no elements of permanence;
and away from the deserts, cut off from nomadic
life, the Tă-tar fabrics of government in conti-
nental Asia have, one after another, fallen to ruins
after a burst of grandeur that seems strangely
brief in comparison with the enduring character
of Aryan institutions and European governments.
In religion the Tă-tars were at first devotees to
Shamanism, and then to Buddhism, which degen-
erated into Lamaism, while in JFurope and west-
ern Asia many tribes have adopted the Sunni form.
of Islam. (See also MONGOLS.) -
W.M. ELLIOT GRIFFIS.
TA-TSING (Great Pure). The name of the
ruling dynasty of China, under whose reign the
Middle Kingdom has perforce begun to adopt and
assimilate the forces of western civilization. Di-
rect commercial and diplomatic relations between
China and Europe can scarcely be said to have
begun until the Ta-tsing line of emperors filled
the throne in Peking. One of the several foreign
imperial houses that have ruled the mightiest em-
pire of Asia, the Ta-tsing, is “the best Tartar
dynasty China has ever had.” The ancestral
home of the Manchiu chieftains, to whom divine.
honors as founders are now rendered in Peking,
is the northern base of the ever-white mountains.
which separate Corea from Manchiuria. Accord-
ing to legend, one of three celestial virgins, while
bathing in a lake on the surface of which were
mirrored the snowy peaks, found on her clothes a.
red fruit dropped by a flying magpie, and imme-
diately eating it, conceived, and gave birth to a
son. On the death of his mother, he floated down
the river Hurka, and being hailed by the warring
chiefs as a supernatural leader, established his
capital at Odoli, and began in the fourteenth cen-
tury the unification of the Manchiu tribes. The
name of this ancestor was Aisin-Gioro, or Golden:
Family Stem. Gradually encroaching upon the
Chinese possessions, the Manchius were invited
to Peking to assist against rebels. Finding them-
selves there, they stayed, and began the conquest.
of the great plain of China. In a word, they sup-
planted the native Ming dynasty. In exchange
for the shaven forescalp and long queue (“pig-
TAUISM.
869
tail”) which they inflicted upon the Chinese, they
themselves took the civilization of China, and be-
came docile pupils. The Jesuit missionaries in
the capital enjoyed both the friendship and pat-
romage of the first Ta-tsing emperors, Shun Chi,
Rang Hi, Yung Cheng and Kien Lung. The sure
foothold of the new dynasty in the empire was
isignalized by the compilation and issue of the
famous “Imperial Dictionary,” the “Webster's
Tſnabridged ” of the Chinese language. Learn-
ing and the arts flourished, and intercourse with
western nations increased, until in this latter half
of the nineteenth century we see that long con-
tested problems are being solved in a manner not
Chinese, but cosmopolitan. The old conception
of China being the Middle Kingdom, around and
far beyond the borders of which lay the uncivil-
ized barbarian countries, is passing away. The
long duel between Cossack and Tartar on the
north has ended by making “ravenous Russia’s ”
boundary lines the Amur and Usuri rivers, though
Ili has been wrested back from the double-headed
eagle; and strong garrisons, constantly maintained
along her northern frontier, show China's deter-
mination to keep her borders from further “rec-
tification” by diplomates. Her attitude toward
France in Tonquin, and toward Japan in Corea,
show her further intent to keep a “scientific fron-
tier,” and uphold her ancient doctrine of Whang-
Ti, or sovereign over vassal nations. Under the
pressure of necessity she has established legations
and consulates in Europe and America, and has
recognized the existence of her citizens abroad.
At home the adoption of western military and
naval organization and equipment, and of en-
gineering, telegraphy and commercial methods,
are largely due to the more practical and enter-
prising nature of the Manchiu leaders and states-
men. (See also TARTAR and RIU KIU.)— LITER-
ATURE. Williamson's Journeys in North China,
Manchuria, London, 1870; Ross' The Manchus,
The Reigning Dynasty of China, Paisley, 1879;
Griffis' Corea, the Hermit Nation, New York and
London, 1883. W.M. ELLIOT GRIFFIS.
TAUISM (TAO-ISM, Tö, or Doctrine of Lao-
Tse). One of the three state religions of China is
Tauism. It is recognized and supported by the
imperial government, and one of the popular say-
ings is, “However the empire be disordered and
convulsed, the Changs (popes of Tauism) and the
Kungs (descendants of Confucius) have no occa-
ision to be troubled.” Perhaps that which most
attracts the attention of foreigners who observe
the rites of the Chinese at home or on American
soil, is that which is referred to Tauism, rather
than to the cult of Buddha or the ethics of Confu-
cius. Yet, the religion and the system of philoso-
phy must be carefully distinguished ; for, what-
ever else Lao-Tse is responsible for, “he ought
not to bear the obloquy of being the founder of
the Taôist religion.” Pure Tauism is probably
Inot to be found in China, though in Corea it is
probable that it exists in something like its origi-
nal purity. In this article we shall briefly sketch
the man and his system, describing in detail
the widely spread and highly popular religion
that calls itself by his name, and of which he is
in no sense of the word the founder. Rejecting
the vulgar fancies and later traditions which find
So dazzling an expression in the gilt and paint
and cabalistic characters and incantations of a
“joss-house,” we shall outline the historical career
of Lao-Tse. He was born in the feudal age of
China, in the petty kingdom of Tsu, now the
province of Honan, in 604 B. C. His surname
was Li (plum), and his personal name Ur (ear,
or flat ear). From early life he was an arduous
student and much given to meditation. When
come to manhood, he was appointed librarian, or
keeper of the records, at the court of the Chow
dynasty. When eighty-eight years old, he was
visited by Confucius, then thirty-five years of age,
and a conversation between the two followed, in
which the elder appears to have given the young-
er a tart lecture, couched in vaguely Oracular
language. Confucius seems to have left the sage
with the impression that his words were too pro-
found or too transcendental for practical pur-
poses, and after that pursued his own methods of
inquiry. It was perhaps subsequent to this inter-
view that Li Ur was known as Lao-Tse, or Vener-
able Sage ; though the two Chinese characters
may also be rendered Old Boy—on which basis,
the popular legend that he was born with white
hair and with the expression of an aged man, was
reared. There is not, however, one line in the
sage's works, which gives countenance to marvels
or supernaturalism of any kind, the multitudinous
fantastic legends concerning Lao-Tse having been
invented much later. The sage devoted himself
to expanding his doctrine of Tau (the Way), and
shunned all notoriety. Foreseeing the fall of the
Chow dynasty, he left the capital with his face
set westward. Before passing through the bound-
ary gate, Yin Hsi, the warden and his admirer,
persuaded the sage to commit his doctrines to
writing. Lao-Tse complied, and wrote down
what appear like lecture notes, which need further
oral expansion. In this treatise, Tau-tº Kºng, con-
taining eighty-one chapters in not over 5,000 char-
acters, his views on the Tau (Way) are set forth
in an exceedingly terse, gnomic style. He then
passed westward beyond the frontier, and with
this final sentence of the historian Sze-ma Chien
(B. C. 135–68) the voice of history is silent. He
died probably about 523 B. C. The systems of
Lao-Tse and Confucius may be thus stated: Con-
fucius, a statesman rather than a philosopher,
sought to find for men a rule of conduct in a code
of practical morals founded on ancient prece-
dents, the examples and precepts of kings and
sages. Lao-Tse's labors, on the contrary, were
purely philosophical. Man was to attain to the
perfection of his nature through contemplation of
God, by subduing his passions and possessing his
soul in calm. Quietism is thus the first requisite
of a true life. The highest morality is inculcated.
870
TAXATION.
In speculative physics, Lao-Tse teaches that crea-
tion proceeded from a First Principle, impersonal,
self-existent and self-developing, which produced
motion, whence issued all things in the universe,
which have in them the dual principle of active
and passive, or male and female. In politics, the
sovereign elected of the people should be their
model and teacher rather than ruler and judge.
The voice of the people is Heaven's voice: The
ruler must first right himself, then the country
will be well governed. Too much government is
to be deprecated. Light taxation, moderate pun-
ishments, the people well fed, but not too much
enlightened, courtesy and moderation between
states, will secure lasting peace and prosperity.
Previous to Lao-Tse's time, the Chinese worshiped
Shang-ti (Lord of Heaven, Theos, Jehovah) and
Tien (Heaven). The Tau-ti King recognized God
(Shang-ti) as before Tau, though it is through Tau
that Heaven is to be attained. By means of Tau
the soul was to attain its original state and be im-
mortal. European scholars at first believed that
the Hebrew name Jehovah was contained in Lao-
Tse's book, both in phonetics, and by popular ap-
prehension, but this idea is now exploded. The
Sage recognizes as fact the existence of God (Ti),
but makes his Tau (Reason, the Way) primal, and
superior to God. The Ti, or virtue of the Tau, be-
comes fulfilled in man in its highest development,
by his abstraction from worldly cares, and freedom
from anxiety. In other words, he teaches that
non-existence is the goal of man, and equivalent
to pure existence; or, as Hegel would say, they
are identical. “Being and Non-being are the
same.” Whether Lao-Tse borrowed this tenet
from the India Brahmans, or originated it, is un-
certain, but the very vagueness of the system,
increased by the terseness of his style, resembling
that of oracles or enigmas, made it the fit soil for
the strange crop that afterward grew upon it.
Until the introduction of Buddhism, 68 A. D.,
idols were unknown in China, and Tauism was
but a philosophy and a literary puzzle, though
with new codes of natural and psychical philoso-
phy grafted on it by disciples. As such it was
more acceptable to minds to which metaphysical
speculation was congenial, than the bald ethics
of Confucius, based as these were on materialism
and routine precedents; but its evolution was to-
ward degradation. In contact and rivalry with
Buddhism, the occult arts and superstitions of
centuries past fastened upon Tauism so firmly
that what was parasite and what was original
stock could not be popularly distinguished.
While the mystic element expanded voluminous-
ly, professing to teach corporeal immortality, the
transmutation of metals, the composition of the
elixir of life which raised men to the equal of
genii—arts long after introduced into Europe—
the popular belief, travestying Buddhism, filled its
temples with images of deities, which became
gods of the state. Out of the crowd of the early
fathers of war, medicine and literature, idol dei-
ties were multiplied indefinitely, until Buddhism
was offset with its own weapons, by a native in-
stead of a foreign pantheon. The recognition of
Tauism as a state religion practically began when
Wu-ti (140–88 B.C.) encouraged the alchemists,
though the Tang emperors (618–905 A. D.) first
admitted Lao-Tse to the rank of gods, under the
title of “Great Supreme, Emperor of the Dark
First Cause.” Later, titles were added by admir-
ing emperors. It must be remembered that Con—
fucianism was not until a thousand years after the
death of its founder universally spread through-
Out China; nor was it until A. D. 1012 that he
received by imperial mandate the title “Most
Perfect Sage.” During the early centuries of the
Christian era, Tauism had the field. The first
Tauist popedom, or patriarchate, held by Chang
Tau-ling, which was founded in the first cent-
ury, has been held in the line of his descend-
ants to the present day, and the sect has spread.
into the various nations surrounding the Mid-
dle Kingdom that accept Chinese culture. In
the popular religion, “the Three Pure Ones,”
which are found in Tauist temples, form the
most conspicuous group of idols representing
Lao-Tse, Chaos or Pan-kü, “The first man,” and
Shang-ti, or God, of the early Chinese religion.
Many other idols, representing gods of every de-
gree, incarnating perhaps the forces of nature,
crowd the temples; and the religion of Tauism,
though professedly based on reason, or at least
rationalism, is a hopeless congeries of supersti-
tion. —LITERATURE. The Tau-ti, King has been
translated into English by the Rev. J. Chalmers.
(London), into French by Rémusat and Stanislas.
Julien, and into German by Pläncker and W. von
Strauss, the first and last being considered the
most faithful to the original. See also Legge's
The Religions of China, New York, 1881; Martin's
The Chinese, New York, 1881; and Oriental
Religions, China, Boston, 1881.
W.M. ELLIOTT GRIFFIS.
TAXATION, Principles of. It would seem
to be in the nature of an economic or common-
sense axiom, that a large and varied experience in
respect to the management of any one of the
great departments of the world’s business would
result in the gradual evolution and final definite
establishment of certain rules or principles which
would be almost universally recognized and ac-
cepted as a basis for practical application and
procedure. But in respect to the matter of taxa-
tion—which is a fundamental necessity for the
maintenance of civilization and of all govern-
ment, and is constantly, outside of sheer barba-
rism, everywhere maintained—no such result has
been attained. In no department of economic
science is there so much of obscurity and conflict-
ing opinion. “Most economists agree, that there
is no science of taxation as there is a Science of
exchanges”; and “that there are no great nat-
ural laws running through and controlling taxa-
tion and its effects.” And while the student will
find examples in the history of states or govern-
TAXATION.
871
ments of the practical application of almost every
form of taxation which human ingenuity, prompt-
ed by necessity, selfishness or greed, could devise;
and a sufficiént record of effects, to warrant the
drawing of general and correct inferences, it is
nevertheless probably true, that there is not, at
the present time, a single existing tax decreed
by despotism, or authorized by the representa-
tives of the tax payers, which has been primarily
adopted or enacted Solely with reference to any
involved economic principles, or which has pri-
marily sought to establish the largest practical
conformity under the existing circumstances to
what are acknowledged to be the fundamental
principles of equity, justice and rational liberty.
But, on the contrary, the influence of temporary
circumstances, as viewed in most instances from
the standpoint of a governmental administration—
despotism or republican alike—desirous of retain-
ing power, has ever been the controlling motive in
determining the character of taxation; or, as Col-
bert, the celebrated finance minister of Louis
XIV., is reported to have expressed it, in saying,
“that the act of taxation consists in so plucking
the goose [i. e., the people] as to procure the
largest quantity of feathers with the least possi-
ble amount of squealing.” Hence, apart from
its methods of distributing power and patronage,
the popular idea of evil, as connected with gov-
ernment, may almost always be referred back to
unequal or excessive taxation as a source; and to
the reality of which, as evils, more than to any
other one agency, may be referred the French
revolution, and the ferocity with which it was
conducted. Hence, also, the preference almost
always shown, on the part alike of those who
enact and those who pay taxes, for indirect taxa-
tion, which very successfully blinds the tax payer
as to the amount which he pays, and as to the
time and place of its collection. And hence,
finally, the idea, which has come to be all but
universally entertained, that taxation per 86 is in
itself an evil; something to be avoided if possi-
ble, and an escape from which is always “good
fortune”; when the real truth undoubtedly is,
that there is no one act which can be performed
by a community, which brings in so large return
to the credit of civilization and general happi-
mess, as the judicious expenditure, for public pur-
poses, of a fair percentage of the general wealth
raised by an equitable system of taxation. The
fruits of such expenditure are general education
and general health; improved roads, diminished
expenses of transportation, and security for life
and property. And it will be found to be a gen-
eral rule, that no high degree of civilization can
be maintained in a community, and indeed that
no highly civilized community can exist, without
comparatively large taxation; the converse of
this proposition, however, at the same time not
being admitted, that the existence of high taxes
are necessarily a sign of high civilization. In
short, taxation in itself is no more of an evil
than any other necessary and desirable form of
this subject.
expenditure; but it is an evil when taxation is
rendered excessive through injudicious or waste-
ful expenditures; or when, by reason of ill ad-
justment, the levy of the tax is made an occa-
sion for the collection from the people, through
the enhancement of profits and prices, of a far
greater sum than is requisite to meet the public
requirements. – Adam Smith, in his “Wealth of
Nations,” laid down four canons, or maxims, (to
be hereafter stated), in respect to the levying and
collection of taxes in general, which, as they are
constantly quoted and referred to with favor,
have a better claim to be regarded as in the na-
ture of fundamental truths than any other prop-
ositions which have thus far been formulated on
But as these propositions are, as
their author characterized them, “general,” and
not particular, in their nature; and as at least
one of them is, in the light of a larger experience,
not considered as correct, there is, it must be
conceded, much warrant for the assumption, that
in the sense of propositions, or rules, universally,
or in any large degree, recognized and made the
basis of practical application, there are no princi-
ples of taxation. To admit the correctness of such
an assumption, is, however, at the same time to
confess, that human knowledge, in at least one
department, has reached its largest limit; and that
a class of transactions, which, more than almost
any other, are determinative of the distribution of
wealth, and the forms in which industry shall be
exerted, are best directed by accident or caprice.
It is accordingly proposed, in the present article,
to make the true state of the case the main ob-
jective of inquiry; and, in place of framing any
theory at the outset, to rather aim to place before
the reader such a review of our knowledge of
this subject, and more especially such a summary
of the most recent experiences and investiga-
tions, as will qualify him for the forming of an
opinion, whether any deductions which may be
made are to be regarded as merely curious or
valuable contributions to the department of eco-
nomic science under consideration, or whether
they rise to the dignity and importance of funda-
mental and incontrovertible truths or proposi-
tions. And as the first step in such a discussion,
it is important to start with a definition, and de-
fine, at the outset, what is meant by taa’ation. –
Taa’ation (from the Latin taao, or taa!aré, “to
rate,” “to value”), in the ordinary sense, means
the act or process of apportioning or assessing,
and of collecting or gathering from a people, a
portion of their property, for the use or support
of their government, and for all public needs.
The command of a constant and adequate rev-
enue being absolutely essential to the existence of
organized government, the power to compel or en-
force contributions from the people governed, or,
as it is termed, “to taa,” is inherent in and an in-
cident of every sovereignty, and rests upon neces-
sity. The question of the obtaining of such rev-
enue, obviously, therefore, is the question of first
importance in the economy of a state; the one in
872
TAXATION.
comparison with which all others are subordi-
nate. For without revenue (and a government
never has any resources except what it has ob-
tained from the people), regularly and uniformly
obtainable and coming in, no governmental ma-
chinery for the protection of life and property,
through the dispensing of justice, and the pro-
viding for the common defense, could long be
maintained; and in default thereof, production
would stop or be reduced to a minimum, accu-
mulations would cease or become speedily ex-
hausted, and civilization would inevitably give
place to barbarism and the wilderness. – Again,
the power of taalation being an incident of Sover-
eignty, the right to ea'ercise that power must be
coextensive with that of which it is the incident;
or, in other words, as the power of every com-
plete sovereignty over the persons and property
of its subjects is unlimited, the power, there-
fore, in every such sovereignty to compel contri-
butions for the service of the state, or, as we term
it, ‘‘to taa,” must be unrestricted. Thus, “the
power to taa,” says Chief Justice Marshall, in
giving the opinion of the supreme court denying
the right of Maryland to tax the bank of the
United States, ‘‘involves the power to destroy”;
and in the case of Weston vs. The City of Charles-
ton, the same court, by the same eminent author-
ity, held further, “that if the right to impose a taa,
easists, it is a right which in its mature acknowledges
no limits. It may be carried to any eastent withºm,
the jurisdiction of the state or corporation which
&mposes it, which the will of such state or corpora-
tion may prescribe.” In the United States, how-
ever, it may be here noted, that the sovereignty
of the national government, and of the separate
states, is materially limited in respect to both
taxation and other matters; on the one hand, in
virtue of an agreement of union accepted by all
the states, and known as the federal constitution;
and on the other, in virtue of certain original
powers retained by the states, and not delegated:
by them, in entering the federal Union, to any
other or higher sovereignty. Thus, no state of
the federal Union can impose any tax upon any
agency of the federal government, its mails, its
custom houses, its lands, its judicial processes,
its money, or through its evidences of indebted-
ness, upon its credit or borrowing power. On the
other hand, the federal government can not tax
the agencies or instrumentalities by which any
state performs its functions. That such recipro-
cal limitations are natural and necessary, and ex-
ist by implication, not only in the constitution
of the United States, but also in the very struct-
ure of the federal Union, must be evident, when
one reflects that otherwise the federal government
on the one hand, and the governments of the
states on the other, might impose taxation to an
extent that would cripple, if not wholly defeat,
the operations of the two authorities, each with-
in its respective and proper sphere of action.—
JNatural Limitations on the Meaning and Faercise
of Taa’ation. The term taxation, however, in-
but is simply confiscation.
volves something more than the mere act of tak-
ing on the part of a government, or its unre.
strained power of compelling contributions for
the use of the state. The essence of all taa’ation
consists in making the burden of taalation equal
wpon all subjects of &mmediate competition; and
when this principle is violated, the act of taking,
or the enforced contribution, is no longer entitled
to be considered taxation, but becomes at once
an arbitrary spoliation or confiscation. Thus, to
illustrate: Suppose it were proposed to tax the
stock in trade of red-haired men 5 per cent., and
those of red-nosed men 10 per cent.; or (as was
proposed by a bill introduced into the congress of
the United States in 1874) to exempt incomes be-
low $5,000 from taxation, and tax those equal to
$5,000 5 per cent., and all above, 10 per cent.; or
to do as actually once was done in England under
an income tax law enacted in 1691—tax Catholics
at rates double those imposed on Protestants; it
seems clear that such transactions could not in-
volve any principle, or be regarded in any other
light than the mere arbitrary and despotic exer-
cise of power; or the making of the possession
of a red nose, or red hair, or the result of enter-
prise, skill, economy, or the fortuitous circum-
stance of birth or belief, the occasion for inflict-
ing a penalty. Yet, this was what substantially
was done in the middle ages, when nobles were
exempt from taxation because they were nobles,
and the common people were taxed because they
were villains or bondsmen; when Jews were as-
sessed because they were not Christians, and
Catholics because they were not Protestants.
And if it be said, as it doubtless will be, in re-
joinder to a part of the above illustration, that
the rich, by reason of their riches, are abundantly
able to pay, and, therefore, should be made to,
the answer is, that under a universal and uniform
income tax (if there could be such a thing), which
would establish a comparative equality of burden,
they would pay more by an inevitable law and
yet pay equally; while under an unequal law,
which takes from them because they are rich, the
act of taking has no claim to be considered a tax,
For if the state may
take five per cent. from the man with $5,000 in-
come, and ten per cent. from the man with more
than $5,000, why stop at this amount 2 We have
not approximated the limit or capability of the
persons assessed to make contributions. Why
not take all that such individuals receive in
excess of the average income of the masses 2
Why not divide up and put every one on an
equality? The advocacy of any such forms of
contribution under the name of taxation (although
the advocates may not be, and generally are not,
aware of it), is simply, therefore, the advocacy of
the most radical principles of communism. There
is, accordingly, a broad and philosophical dis-
tinction, which may be claimed to rise to the
dignity of an economic principle, between “tax-
ation” and “arbitrary taking.” In the soundings
which have been made at great depths in the
TAXATION.
873
ocean for telegraphic or other purposes, the
sounding line has not unfrequently brought up
from the bottom small-chambered shells or other
minute animals of exquisite organization and
structure; and the question naturally arises, In
what manner can these minute organisms live and
flourish under the enormous pressure that in some
instances must be exerted, of at least three tons
to the square inch? The explanation is to be
found in the circumstance that the pressure is
everywhere equalized, being as much from within
Outward as from without inward, and thus an
equilibrium is maintained under which develop-
ment goes on and existence is made possible; and
it is in preserving this equilibrium, this equaliza-
tion of pressure (says Mr. Lowe, from whose
speech as chancellor of the English exchequer
the above illustration is derived), that the whole
secret of taxation consists. All experience shows
that a people who are moderately prosperous will
bear the heaviest burdens of taxation without
complaint when they feel that the distribution
is just and equal; but when the distribution is
unequal, somebody inevitably is being either plun-
dered or crushed. — Limitations of Territorial Sov-
ereignty and Limitations of the Taaving Power Coea:-
tensive. It would seem to be in the nature of a
self-evident proposition, although in fact it is by
no means so regarded, that the power of every
state or government to tax, must be exclusively
limited to subjects within its territory and legal
jurisdiction. “All subjects,” says Chief Justice
Marshall, in giving the opinion of the supreme
court, in the case of McCullough vs. Maryland (4
Wheaton, 431), “over which the sovereign power of
the State eartends, are objects of taa’ation; but those
over which it does not eatend, are, on the soundest
principles, eacempt from taa’ation. * * The sov-
ereign power of the state extends to everything
20hich eacºsts by its own authority or is introduced
by its permission.” “Every nation,” says Wheaton,
“possesses and exercises exclusive sovereignty and
jurisdiction throughout the full extent of its ter-
ritory. It follows, from this principle, that the
laws of every state control, of right, all the real
and personal property within its territory. The
Second general principle is, that no state can, by
its laws, directly affect, bind or regulate property
beyond its own territory. This is a consequence
of the first general principle; a different system,
which would recognize in each state the power of
regulating persons or things beyond its territory,
would exclude the equality of rights among dif-
ferent states, and the exclusive sovereignty which
belongs to each of them.” (Wheaton's Interna-
tional Law, chap. ii., § 2; Foelix International
Prisé, Ś 9 and 10.) And in a decision of more
recent date (State Tax on Foreign-held Bonds, 15
Wallace, 306, 328), the United States supreme
court said: “The power of taxation, however
vast in its character and searching in its extent, is
necessarily limited to subjects within the jurisdic-
tion of the state. Property lying beyond the juris-
diction of the state is not a subject upon which her
taxing power can be legitimately exercised. In-
deed, it would seem that no adjudication should be
necessary to establish so obvious a proposition.”—
Protection the Correlative of Taa’ation. The correl-
ative of taxation, furthermore, is protection; or, in
other words, according to the political theory of
our governments, national and state, and in fact
of every government claiming the title to be free,
taxes are the compensation which property pays
the state for protection. “Taa’es are a portion
which each individual gives of his property, in order
to secure and have the perfect enjoyment of the re-
mažnder. Governments are established for the
protection of persons and property within the
limits of the state, and taa!es are levied to enable
the government to afford and give such protection.
They are the price and consideration of the pro-
tection afforded.” (Ingersol, J., Circuit Court of
the United States, Duer vs. Small.) “There is noth-
ing poetic about tax laws When they find prop-
erty, they claim a contribution for its protection.”
(Lowrie, Chief Justice, Tinley vs. The City, etc.,
32 Penn., 381.) Montesquieu, writing with the
monarchical institutions of France mainly or sole-
ly in view, discusses this subject in his “Spirit of
Laws” (book xxxi., ch. i.) as follows: “The pub-
lic revenues are a portion that each subject gives
of his property, in order to Secure or enjoy the re-
mainder.” — These fundamental principles, defin-
ing sovereignty in respect to taxation are, how-
ever, violated, either in theory or practice, by
most of the states in the federal Union (but not
in other countries) in their exercise of the taxing
power; as, for example, in Massachusetts, where
the law defines personal estate for purposes of tax-
ation so as to include “goods, chattels, money and
effects, wherever they are; ships, public stocks
and securities, stocks in turnpikes, bridges and
moneyed corporations within or without the state”;
and where the administrators of the law tax resi-
dents for personal property, even of a visible, tan-
gible character, having a situs in another state or
country; and, by another and irreconcilable rule,
tax mon-residents for all of their personal property
having a situs within the state. The claim or
argument, however, which the advocates of such
a system set up in its defense is, that personal
property (more especially what is termed in law
choses in action, or credits, titles, notes, bonds,
mortgages, which are in their nature incorporeal,
and therefore invisible and intangible) has no
situs, and, therefore, follows and adopts that of
its owner. But this rule or fiction of law—mo-
bilia personam sequwntur—was never invented
with a view of its being used as a rule to govern
and define the application and scope of taxation,
but was originally a device of international com-
ity, intended to subserve the convenience of the
owner of property; “by which a state holding
jurisdiction of the property permits an act, done
by the non-resident owner at his domicile, to have
the same effect, touching it, as if done at the locus
situs. It means, simply, that for the purpose of
sale, distribution, or other disposition of the prop-
874.
TAXATION.
erty, any act, agreement or authority, which is
sufficient in law where the owner resides, shall
pass the property where it is; and the true and
right use of it is to facilitate affairs of commerce
and the distribution of decedents' estates, by en-
abling parties to dispose of their property without
embarrassment from their ignorance of the laws
of the country where it is situated.” (Catlin vs.
Hall, 21 Vermont, 152.) It would be a more accu-
rate rendering of the rule to say, ‘‘Personal prop-
erty follows the law of the owner’s domicile,” and
not, as in effect claimed, that the law of the owner's
domicile follows the property. But “no fiction,”
says Blackstone, “shall extend to work an injury;
its proper operation being to prevent a mischief
or remedy an inconvenience, which might result
from the general rule of law.” At any attempt
to misapply a fiction, it falls within and is termi-
nated by that other authoritative maxim of logic
and the common law, cessamté ratione legis, cessat
ipsa lea. Another great authority in law, Lord
Mansfield, says: “Fictions of law hold only in
respect of the ends and purposes for which they
were invented; when they are urged to an intent
and purpose not within the reason and policy of
the fiction, the other party may show the truth.”
It is also worthy of note, that in Rome, where
this fiction originated, its applicability to property
was never held, according to Savigny, to extend
beyond Roman territory.*—It is a curious fact,
* “But it may be said, that the state in taxing personal
property situate beyond its territory, does not in fact tax the
property, but the owner, over whom the state has jurisdic-
tion in respect to such property. In answer to this claim,
attention is here asked to the following extract from an
argument made some years ago by Mr. G. P. Lowrey, of
New York, before a committee of the legislature of New
York, when this subject was up before them for considera-
tion. ‘This claim,” he said, ‘involves a dangerous inaccu-
racy, and arises from a confusion of the idea of the assess-
ment with the idea of the tax. These two stand upon alto-
gether different bases. The assessment is to the person in
respect to the property; but the taa! is to the property in re-
spect to itself alone. In the order of consequence a tax
goes before an assessment. A tax stands upon an existing
relation between the property and the state, as protector and
protected, and is that portion of the public burden which
the property ought to bear because of that existing relation.
An assessment stands upon the existing relation between the
property and its owner or possessor; it forlows the tax, and is
merely the method of securing it. The danger, in saying that
the tax is to the person in respect of his property, is, that, by
the form of the expression we justify an assessment upon a
person for all property indiscriminately. We transpose the
subjects, and make the law seek out the person, and then
tax him according to his property, instead of first seeking
property which it has a right to tax, and then as a secondary
matter, a person to whom it may be assessed. Even if a
knowledge of the property is obtained by inquiry addressed
to the owner in the shape of a general assessment, still the
rationale of the matter presupposes the right to tax on ac-
count of the property and our relation to it directly. If we
disregard this rationale, we may, perhaps, register an assess-
ment where we are not entitled to levy a tax."—The person
to whom the assessment is made need not be the owner.
He may be the agent, trustee, guardian, executor or admin-
istrator. This is because the property, which owes the tax
by reason of being protected, has not hands wherewith to
take from itself a portion of itself, to pay for protection to
be accorded to the remainder. Therefore the law, following
the property to get the tax, makes its demand upon whoever
it finds in possession, without inquiring upon what interest
also, that those states which adopt, in their sys-
tems of taxation, the rule of taxing property be-
yond their sovereignty or territorial jurisdiction,
by reason of the possession of its owner, do not
carry the principle involved to its logical conclu-
Sion, and tax real estate similarly situated. But
for this distinction no good reasons can be given,
although pretexts, claiming to be reasons, may.
One claim, however, is obviously as good as the
Other. A robber who should draw romantic dis-
tinctions between watches and purses, would fail
in business. If we are to be robbers in practice,
let us, at least, secure some grace by honesty in
our professions, and admit that what we thus
the property is based. This it does, ignoring all persons.
beneficially interested in the title, even the owner himself.
“Every person,” says the statutes of New York, “shall be as-
sessed, etc., for all personal property owned by him, in-
cluding all property in his possession, or under his control,
as agent, trustee, guardian, etc.”—Thus it will be seen, that,
for the purpose of assessment, possession is a title superior
to ownership. And I now reiterate, that, according to the
theory of our government, a tax stands upon the just obliga-
tion of all property to contribute to the support of the power
which protects it; but that the assessment stands upon the
possession or power of the person assessed, over the property
taxed. This may be further illustrated. Movables can never
be out of the actual or constructive presence of some one,
and, therefore, there is always a person in esse to whom the
assessment may be made. But the case is very different with
unmovables, and therefore, lands are often taxed and as-
sessed by their own name and designation, and specifically
sold to satisfy the specific assessment, no person’s name.
anywhere appearing in the proceedings. – Keeping this vital
distinction between an assessment and a tax clearly in view,
the mind will come by easy steps to an understanding of how
it is that a tax, to a man who has no property in the state, is
a tax upon his person. Process is the eye of the law. Its.
vision is limited by territorial boundaries. Whatever does
not exist within that limit, does not, for any purpose of law,
exist at all. The rich man, whose property is in Europe,
and the pauper, whose property is nowhere, are then equal,
as persons, before the law. A tax upon a pauper would be
a personal tax. A tax upon the rich man is, by unimpeach-
able parity of reason, the same. Such a tax would be a
gross solecism on our system. The philosophy of our plan
of voluntary political association, is that all individuals, and
all the values within a community, shall aggregate into one
mass all the power which they separately contain, which
sum total shall constitute a sovereignty of the whole. This
sovereignty—the soul of the state, which can not be im-
paired, and the state survive—reflects back upon its con-
stituents, in detail, all that it has received from them. What
it receives, and what it returns, is of two kinds, as to both.
source and object, viz., individual service to the government,
and protection to the individual from it. Thus, in his in-
dividual capacity, a man is bound to perform military serv-
ice, and the state, by the military arm, is bound to protect.
him from invasion. He is bound to do jury duty, and the
authorities are bound, upon his demand, to provide him a.
jury. He is bound to aid the sheriff, and the sheriff is
bound to execute process in his favor by posse comitatus if
necessary. These personal services, correspond to those
which in feudal times the mesne lord holding a frank-tene-
ment owed the lord paramount. They can not be com-
pounded for, for their value consists in their being rendered
in kind. Their performance is the only price which the
citizen pays for his citizenship. The terms are not only con-
sistent and harmonious with our general Scheme of govern-
ment, but are highly politic. They are a liberal invitation to
all men to come and add to ours their lives, their hopes,
their strength, labor and courage, that we may build up a
nation. To all political privileges we admit each one by
virtue of his being a man, free born and of lawful age; we
ask him nothing concerning his property, unless his property
asks something from us.”
A
TAXATION.
875
take is not a tax received as the just recompense
of a benefit conferred, but a compulsory levy,
having its cause in our greed, and its justification
in our power; and as these reasons are as good
for a large levy as a small one, and the whole of
a man’s estate is greater than its part, why not
take the whole? “Still further,” says Mr. Low-
rey, “if we tax a man (in New York or Massa-
chusetts) who has come from Connecticut or Eng-
land to stay a year, for the property he has left
behind, why not the man who has come for a
week?” If we are to do business upon the prin-
ciple that “might makes right,” would it not be
a brilliant stroke to station ourselves at all the
avenues of ingress to a state, and cry “Stand and
deliver” to the passengers? From the above cita-
tions and arguments, the conclusion would seem
to be inevitable, that when a state assesses prop-
erty situated beyond its territory and jurisdiction,
and which its laws and processes are not compe-
tent or able to either reach or protect, or assesses
one of its own citizens in respect to such prop-
erty, the act has no claim to be regarded as taxa-
tion, but is simply arbitrary taking, in no respect
different in principle from confiscation.— It will
be also here interesting to recall some of the ante-
cedents of this fiction of law, that personal prop-
erty, irrespective of its situs, follows the owner
for the purpose of taxation. Its prototype was
the ancient taille, or tax of servitude, imposed on
persons originally bondmen, or on all persons
who held in farm or lease, or resided on lands of
the suzerain; and from which proprietors or
suzerains of the land were exempt. And as no
vassal could at will divest himself of servitude
or allegiance to his lord or suzerain, so the obli-
gation to pay taxes always remained upon him as
a personal servitude, whatever might be the loca-
tion of his property. In other words, the condi-
tion of the masses all over Europe during the
middle ages was not unlike the condition of the
slaves in the United States previous to emancipa-
tion. They (the slaves) had property in their pos-
session, and spoke of themselves as owners of
property, but in reality their property followed
the condition of the servitude of their persons,
and both persons and property belonged equally
to the masters. The taille, furthermore, as a
badge of servitude, was supposed to dishonor
whoever was subject to it, and degrade him; not
only below the rank of a gentleman, but of that
of a burgher, or inhabitant of a borough or town;
and “no gentleman, or even any burgher,” says
Adam Smith, “who has stock will submit to this
degradation.” Now, the idea embodied in the
word servitude is, an obligation to render service,
irrespective of, or without, compensation; and the
jdea, upon which the taxation of personal prop-
erty in this country has been based is, that the
property owes a servitude to the state where the
owner resides, irrespective of its actual location, in
virtue of the obligation which its owner, as a citi-
Zen, may owe to the state by reason of the pro-
tection which the state gives him in respect to his
person. — Again, in old times, the division of
property into real and personal was wholly un-
known; and under the common law, all property
was classed as lands, tenements, hereditaments,
and goods and chattels. “In the course of time,
however, leases of land for a term of years were
classed as chattels, and were distinguished as
chattels real; while other chattels, which did not
savor of lands, were called chattels personal, ‘be-
cause,’ says Lord Coke, ‘for the most part they
belong to the person of a man, or else for that,
they are to be recovered by personal actions.”
And Blackstone tells us, that “chattels personal
are property, and strictly speaking, things mova-
ble, which may be annexed to or attendant on the
person of the owner, and carried about with him
from one part of the world to another’; and as
instances, he mentions money, jewelry, garments.
Personal property, in fact, consisted almost en-
tirely of such things as could be, and actually
were, carried about with the person of the owner,
or could be easily secreted. And Blackstone also
tells us, that the amount of the personal estate of
our ancestors, was so trifling that they enter-
tained a very low and contemptuous opinion of
it; and that “our ancient law books do not, there-
fore, often condescend to regulate this species of
property.” Nothing of an incorporeal nature was
anciently comprehended within the class of per-
sonal chattels. It was otherwise as to lands or
real property, as to which ‘incorporeal heredita-
ments’ occupied a conspicuous place from the
earliest times. Such was personal property in the
early history of our laws. It was of comparatively
small importance, and its laws were few and sim-
ple; while real property, being of a fixed and per-
manent nature, was regarded as immeasurably
more valuable, and was governed by laws of its
own, of the most intricate and abstruse character.
Both species of property, when compared with
that of our own time, were of small pecuniary
value; but between the importance attached to
personal and movable property, and the value of
real property, there was a difference vastly greater
than that which now exists, both because of the
comparative insignificant value of personalty, and
because of the feudal tenure by which lands were
held, out of which grew some of the most impor-
tant consequences to both the land and the per-
son. From these circumstances arose the notion,
which became a fiction of the law, that property
merely personal always attended the person of its
owner; while lands, tenements and hereditaments,
being fixed and immovable, and of infinitely more
consideration, were held, from their very nature,
as well as from motives of political policy, to have
a situs of their own, from which they derived their
laws and incidents wholly regardless of the domi-
cile of the owner. Growing out of the same rea-
sons, it was also the prevailing opinion, that while
immovables were exclusively governed by the
law of locality, movables were controlled, accord-
ing to the same maxim, by the law of the domicile
of the owner, and not by that of its situs.” In
876
TAXATION.
the changed condition of wealth and property,
such a fiction, however suitable and useful in
primitive times, would now, in many cases, work
the greatest injustice, and impair the supremacy
which every government should maintain over
everything within its territory, both on the ground
of public expediency and the private interests of
its citizens. And according to Wharton (Treatise
on the Conflict of Laws, 1872), this fiction of law
has been universally abandoned upon the conti-
ment of Europe, except in cases as to rights in re-
spect to personalty, which spring from marriage
and succession. (Hutchinson, “Southern Law
Review.”)— Finally, the attention of the reader or
student should be asked to another interesting
point in connection with this subject; and that is,
that if this article were to have been written by
a European, for incorporation into any foreign
publication, this discussion of the taxation of ex-
tra-territorial property by a state would have no
place, except possibly in review of curious tax
experiences; for the reason, that nowhere, except
in the United States, is there any such system of
taxation, or any tolerance given to the ideas upon
which it is founded. — Legitimate Taa’ation Lim-
ited to Public Purposes. Although this proposi-
tion has rarely received any notice or considera-
tion by writers on the subject of taxation, and
under despotic governments (where there is no
restraint on the adoption of any economic policy
on the part of the state) would obviously be re-
garded as of no consequence, or, if conceded,
would be nullified by regarding the wishes or
whims of the ruler and public purposes as mat-
ters synonymous, the experience of the United
States, and the decisions of its highest courts,
have nevertheless combined to establish it as an
economic and legal principle under a free govern-
ment of the very first importance. The record of
this experience may be told as follows: In 1872
the legislature of the state of Kansas passed
a law authorizing counties and towns of that
state “to encourage the establishment of manu-
factories and such other enterprises as may tend
to develop” such counties or towns by the direct
appropriation of money, or by the issue of bonds
to any amount that the local authorities might
consider expedient; and under this act the city
of Topeka created and issued its bonds, to the ex-
tent of $100,000, and gave the same “as a dona-
tion,” a majority of voters approving, to an iron-
bridge company, as a consideration for establish-
ing and operating their shops within the limits of
the city. The interest coupons first due on these
bonds were promptly paid by the city out of a
fund raised by taxation for that purpose, but sub-
Sequently, when the second coupons became due,
and the bonds had passed out of the possession of
the bridge company by bona fide sale to a loan
association, the city repudiated its obligations,
On the ground that the legislature of Kansas had
no authority, under the constitution of the state,
to authorize the issue of bonds, the interest and
principal of which were to be paid from the pro-
ceeds of taxes, for any such purpose as the en-
couragement of manufacturing enterprises. Legal
proceedings to enforce payment were thereupon
commenced by the bondholders in the United
States circuit court, and judgment having been
there given for the city, the case was appealed to
the United States supreme court, where, with
only one dissenting voice, the judgment of the
lower court was affirmed, and the following opin-
ions or statement of principles involved given:
“It must be conceded,” said the court, through
Mr. Justice Miller, “that there are rights in every
free government beyond the control of the state.
A government which recognized no such rights,
which held the lives, the liberty and the property
of its citizens subject at all times to the absolute
disposition and unbounded control of even the
most democratic depository of power, is after all
but a despotism. It is true it is a despotism of
the many, of the majority, if you choose to call
it so, but it is none the less a despotism.” # *
‘‘The theory of our governments, state and na-
tional, is opposed to the deposit of unlimited
power anywhere. The executive, the legislative
and the judicial branches of these governments
are all of limited and defined powers. There
are limitations of such powers which grow out
of the essential nature of all free governments—
implied reservations of individual rights, without
which the social compact could not exist, which
are respected by all governments entitled to the
name.” < * “Of all the powers conferred
upon the government, that of taxation is most
liable to abuse. Given a purpose or object for
which taxation may be lawfully used, and the
extent of its exercise is in its very nature unlim-
ited. This power can as readily be employed
against one class of individuals and in favor of
another, so as to ruin the one class and give un-
limited wealth and prosperity to the other, if
there are no implied limitations of the uses for
which the power may be exercised. To lay with
one hand the power of the government on the prop-
erty of the citizen, and with the other bestow it upon
favored individuals to aid private enterprises and
build up private fortunes, is none the less robbery
because it is done under the forms of the law and is
called taalation. This is not legislation. It is a de-
cree under legislative forms. Nor is it taxation.
Beyond a cavil there can be no lawful tax which
is not laid for a public purpose. * * It may
not be easy to draw the line in all cases so as to
decide what is a public purpose in this sense, and
what is not. But in the case before us, in which
towns are authorized to contribute aid by Way of
taxation to any class of manufacturers, there is
no difficulty in holding that this is not such a
public purpose as we have been considering. If
it be said that a benefit results to the local public
of a town by establishing manufactures, the same
may be said of any other business or pursuit
which employs capital or labor. The merchant,
the mechanic, the inn-keeper, the banker, the
builder, the steamboat owner, are equally pro-
TAXATION.
877
moters of the public good, and equally deserving
the aid of the citizens by forced contributions.
No line can be drawn in favor of the manufact-
urer, which would not open the public treasury
to the importunities of two-thirds of the business
men of the city or town.”— Other judicial author.
ities in the United States to whom weight is ac-
corded, have also concurred in this opinion.
Thus, Thos. M. Cooley, one of the justices of
the supreme court of Michigan, and professor of
law in the university of that state, in his work,
“Principles of Constitutional Law,” thus defines
the limits of taxation under the constitution of the
United States: “Constitutionally a tax can have
no other basis than the raising of revenue for pub-
lic purposes, and whatever governmental exaction
has not this basis, is tyrannical and unlawful. A
tax on imports, therefore, the purpose of which is
not to raise a revenue, but to discourage and in-
directly prohibit some particular import for the
benefit of some home manufacture, may well
be questioned, as being merely colorable, and
therefore not warranted by constitutional princi-
ples.” The question at issue has also formed the
subject of review by the supreme court of the
state of Maine, and the following are extracts
from the opinions given by the members of this
tribunal respecting the limitations on the powers
of a free government to impose taxes: “No public
exigency can require private spoliation for the
private benefit of favored individuals. If the
citizen is protected in his property by the consti-
tution against the public, much more is he against
private rapacity.” “If it were proposed to pass
an act enabling the inhabitants of the several
towns to vote to transfer the farms, or the horses,
or oxen, or a part thereof, from the rightful
owner or owners to some manufacturer, whom
the majority might select, the monstrousness of
such proposed legislation would be transparent.
But the mode by which property would be taken
from one or many, and given to another, or
others, can make no difference in the underlying
principle. It is the taking that constitutes the
wrong, no matter how taken.” “Taxation,” said
the chief justice (in giving an opinion adverse to
the right of a town to grant aid, under a permissi-
ble statute of the state legislature, to a manufact-
uring enterprise), “by the very meaning of the
term, implies the raising of money for public
uses, and excludes the raising of it for private
objects and purposes.” “No authority or even
dictum can be found,” observes Dillon, C. J., in
Hanson vs. Vernon, 27 Iowa, 28, “which asserts
that there can be any legitimate taxation, when
the money to be raised does not go into the
public treasury, or is not destined for the use of
the government, or some of the governmental
divisions of the state. ” “If there is any proposi-
tion about which there is an entire and uniform
weight of judicial authority, it is that taxes are
to be imposed for the use of the people of the
state in the varied and manifold purposes of gov-
ernment, and not for private objects or the
special benefit of individuals. While the state is
bound to protect all, it ceases to give that just
protection, when it affords undue advantages, or
gives special and exclusive privileges to particu.
lar individuals and particular and special indus-
tries at the cost and charge of the rest of the
community.” In short, the right of a government
to levy discriminating taxes for purposes other
than for defraying public expenditures, even
though any injustice thereby done to the individ-
ual is more than compensated by some indirect
benefit to the entire community, is one of those
forms of procedure on the part of the state which
is antagonistic to the principles of a free govern-
ment, and which, if fully recognized and broadly
carried out, will of necessity be utterly destruc-
tive of it; and in respect to which, as in the case
of a tax to support an established church, or of
a law compelling every man to help catch a fugi-
tive slave, the dissent and resistance of even one
citizen makes unjust any enactment authoriz-
ing such procedure, — Subjects of Taa’ation. The
subjects of taxation, to use a happy generali-
zation of the United States supreme court (For-
eign-held Bond Case, 15 Wallace), “are persons,
property and business. Whatever form taxation
may assume, whether as duties, imposts, excises
or licenses, it must relate to one of these subjects.
It is not possible to conceive of any other, though
as applied to them the taxation may be exercised
in a great variety of ways.” — A tax upon a per-
son is a “poll’’ or head tax. The essential requi-
site of a poll tax is, that it be laid on all polls, and
be unvarying in amount. A varying poll tax
would be an arbitrary exaction, and would not be
sustained for a moment as a proper exercise of
the right of taxation, if laid without reference to a
man’s ownership of property. So soon, however,
as the amount of the tax exacted is made dependent
upon the amount of the property owned, the tax
ceases to be a varying poll tax, and becomes a tax
on the property itself.-Apportionment of Taa’ation.
This department of the subject of taxation, while
the most practical, and, therefore, the most inter-
esting, is at the same time the one most obscure,
and the one about which there is the most striking
difference of opinion among writers on economic
and fiscal subjects. The following four maxims, or
canons, laid down by Adam Smith in his “Wealth
of Nations,” have attained a world-wide celebrity,
and are almost always referred to in all discus-
sions of the subject. 1. “The subjects of every
state ought to contribute to the support of the
government as nearly as possible in proportion to
their respective abilities; that is, in proportion
to the revenue which they respectively enjoy
under the protection of the state.” 2. “The
tax which each individual is bound to pay ought
to be certain, and not arbitrary. The time of pay-
ment, the manner of payment, the quantity to be
paid, ought all to be clear and plain to the contrib-
utor and to every other person. The certainty of
what each individual ought to pay is, in taxation,
of so great importance, that a very considerable
878
TAXATION.
degree of inequality, I believe, from the experi-
ence of all nations, is not near so great an evil as a
very small degree of uncertainty.” 3. “Every
tax ought to be levied at the time and in the
manner in which it is most likely to be con-
venient for the contributor to pay it.” 4. “Every
tax ought to be so contrived as both to take out
and to keep out of the pockets of the people as
little as possible over and above what it brings
into the public treasury of the state.”—Almost
universally accepted, as the embodiment of the
highest wisdom, these four canons or maxims
have been, and are, nevertheless, open to some
criticism. In the first place, they are so general
in their nature, and so lacking in any precise
rule or test for application, that they stand in
the light of aphorisms, somewhat as the maxims
“Honesty is the best policy,” “Never put off till
to-morrow what can be done to-day,” etc., to
which all respect is always given, except the de-
sirable one, of practical use in actual cases. In
fact, the originators of the very worst forms of
taxation now existing, might and probably would
plead, that their methods or practices were based
Qn the ideas of Adam Smith, or were as near in
conformity to them as was possible under the ex-
isting circumstances. Again, the first maxim or
canon embodies two propositions antagonistic to
each other, and one of which can hardly be con-
sidered correct, namely, that every citizen should
pay taxes for the support of the government in
proportion to his ability; for if, as almost all
authorities are now agreed, taxes are the com-
pensation which persons or property pay to the
state for protection, then it of necessity follows,
that where there is no protection, ability is no
just guide for assessment. “Where there is no
protection,” said Judge Story (in the case of
United States vs. Rice, 4 Wheaton, 276) “there
can be no claim to allegiance or obedience.”
And that Adam Smith did not intend to have his
first proposition fully accepted would seem evi-
dent from the circumstance that he added to it,
and qualified it with these other words, “that is,
in proportion to the revenue which they (the citi-
zens) respectively enjoy under the protection of
the state.” Montesquieu, who wrote at an earlier
date, also enunciated even more clearly this com-
mon-sense and equitable principle, when he said
(see “Spirit of the Laws”), “that the public rev-
enues ought not to be measured by the people’s abili.
ties to give, but by what they ought to give.” “And
what they ought to give,” as has been remarked
by another writer, “can of course be only meas-
ured by the benefit they are to derive.” — The
True Measure of the Burden of Tawation on Pro-
duction. In addition to the maxims or canons
proposed by Adam Smith, another, first pointed
out by Mr. Edward Atkinson, of Massachusetts, is
worthy of being added, and may even be regarded
in the light of a fundamental principle; and that
is, that the burden or injurious effect of a taa, on
production or eachange, is not to be measured by
the ratio which the taa may bear to the gross value
of the subject of taxation, but rather by the propor-
tion which the taa bears to the profit which might
normally or naturally result from undertaking a
certain line of industry or product. To practically
illustrate this, let us take an example. Let us
suppose two men, A and B, to start shops for the
manufacture of machinery, each with a capital
of $20,000, and that each in his operations ex-
pends $20,000 for coal and iron, $40,000 in wages,
and $4,000 for transportation to the shops of the
raw materials for manufacture. The total cost
of the annual product of each shop will then be
$64,000, or a little more than three times the cap-
ital; and a sale of their respective products, at
the net price of $66,000, would yield the owners
$2,000, or 10 per cent. profit. Now, suppose
further, that under such conditions, A has a tax
imposed upon him of 3% per cent. upon the value
of his product; it may be a customs or excise
tax, or an increased rate of railroad freight.
This amounts to $2,000 on $64,000 of product;
no excessive burden, it may be said, and only
requiring A to sell his $66,000 for $2,000 addi-
tional. But suppose A can not get this $2,000
additional; and he certainly can not, if the other
man, B, is exempt from this 3% per cent. tax, or
contrives to evade it, and competes with A in the
open market. Then, in such a case, this 3% per
cent. tax upon product manifests itself as 10 per
cent. upon the entire investment, and absorbs the
entire profits, which otherwise might have been
realized; so that the business of A first drags,
then stagnates, and is finally abandoned; while
his workmen are discharged, the village where
the shop is located runs down, the artisans, shop-
keepers and professional men connected with it
complain of hard times, and emigrate from the
locality or the country, while the railroad fails to
confer all the benefit to the community or profit
to its stockholders that might be possible. B, on
the other hand, exempt from the tax, keeps on
working, and, when hard times come, continues
his sales and the occupations of his workmen by
taking five per cent. profits instead of ten, and
selling his goods, as he can afford to, at reduced
prices, to meet temporary conditions. Actual
practical illustrations of the injustice and disas-
ter consequent on such discrimination in respect
to tax burdens and exemptions are afforded on
a small scale in the history of much railroad
management, and to a larger extent where two
nations, with different systems of taxation, un-
dertake to compete with each other in the sale
of the products of their labor in the common
markets of the world. We find here an ex-
planation, also, of the immediate beneficial ef-
fects which attended the first tentative measures
of reform in the British tariff instituted by Sir
Robert Peel in 1842 and 1845, which, although
consisting mainly in the removal of numerous
small but obstructive duties, nevertheless started
British industry forward by leaps and bounds,
even before the larger burdens of tariff restric-
tions were removed in later years. — Popular
TAXATION.
879
Theory of Tawation in the United States Stated and
Ea:amined. The general idea which constitutes
the basis of the system of local taxation mainly rec-
ognized in the United States (though not in other
countries) is founded on the assumption, that in
order to tax equitably, it is necessary to tax
everything; the term everything being at the same
time used in a sense so indefinite as to embrace
not merely things in the nature of physical act-
ualities other than persons, but also persons,
income, rights, representatives of property, titles,
trusts, conclusions of law, debts, and, in short,
any act of assessing capable of resulting in the
obtaining of revenue. As a logical consequence
of this idea, the exemption of anything from tax-
ation is furthermore held to be not only impolitic
but unjust, and if made necessary by circum-
stances, as something to be regretted. —Equally
popular and plausible is the argument by which
this assumption, and the administrative system
based upon it, is upheld and defended. “Is not
all property,” it is asked, “either directly, or
through its owner, protected by the state, or sover-
eignty?” “Do not all persons owe allegiance to
the state?” And if so, “why should not all per-
sons and property contribute to the requirements
of the state for revenue, in proportion to their
ability?” — But, popular and plausible as are the
arguments and assumptions for such a system of
local taxation, which in the case of the United
States has been made operative over the persons,
property and business of nearly sixty millions of
people, and fortified by a vast amount of adjudi-
cation, it will require but little investigation and
analysis to satisfy any one who can divest himself
from the influence of old prejudices, of the truth
of the following propositions; first, that the as-
sumption that it is necessary to assess everything
in order to tax equitably involves an impossibility,
and therefore unavoidable inefficiency, injustice
and inequality in administration; Second, that, as
popularly used in respect to matters pertaining
to taxation, the term property is made to apply
equally to entities and to symbols or non-entities,
which is in itself an absurdity; and finally, that
the outcome of all this is a system which power-
fully contributes to arrest and hinder natural
development, to corrupt society, and is without
a parallel in any country claiming to be civilized.
— In the incipient stages of society, where prop-
erty consisted almost or quite exclusively of things
tangible and visible—lands, buildings, slaves, cat-
tle, ships, household effects and implements—and
the rate of taxation was small, the theory under
consideration was not impracticable in its appli-
cation, and under most circumstances afforded but
little opportunity for the working of injustice
in respect to arbitrary discriminations in assess-
ing. But its full execution must, nevertheless,
even in the most simple condition of society, have
been always attended with great difficulties; for
there is nothing which men more abhor in govern-
ment than personal inquisitions; and, in the lan-
guage of a committee of the French national assem-
bly of 1789 (of which Talleyrand and Larochefou-
cald were members), the recognition and practice
of such inquisitions by any government is some-
thing inconsistent with and antagonistic to the
maintenance of a free people.— It is not generally
known, furthermore, that Alexander Hamilton,
as a member of the conventions which framed the
constitution of the United States, and the first
constitution of New York, gave all his influence
in favor of the restriction of all internal or local
taxation to visible, tangible objects, and to the
assessment of these specifically and by some uni-
form and simple rule. The language used by him
in one of his papers (the Constitutionalist) on this
subject, is as follows: “The genius of liberty
reprobates everything arbitrary or discretionary
in taxation. It exacts that every man, by a defi-
nite and general rule, should know what propor-
tion of his property the state demands. What-
ever liberty we may boast in theory, it can not
exist in fact while (arbitrary) assessments con-
tinue.” — Again, had nothing come down to us
in English history from the time of Edward III.,
other than one of the assessment rolls of that
period (when there was little or no property capa-
ble of taxation but what was visible and tangible),
the evidence would be complete that the mass of
the English people were but little better than
slaves; for the mere inspection of such rolls shows
that their preparation involved such an inquisi-
torial scrutiny into domestic life, such a seeing,
handling and valuation of everything in the house-
hold, from the utensils of the kitchen to the fur-
niture of the bed-chamber, as to make personal
freedom, or a sense of self-respect, on the part of
the tax payer who submitted to such a scrutiny,
almost an impossibility.” And in connection
with this subject, it is interesting to note, that
the famous insurrection of English yeomen and
peasants under “Wat” the Tyler, in the reign of
Richard II., the successor of Edward III., origi-
nated directly in the attempt of a tax gatherer or
assessor to ascertain, by brutal personal examina-
tion, whether a daughter of “Wat” had attained
the age of puberty, and in consequence had so
become liable to enrollment for capitation assess-
ment. -— But to whatever extent simplicity in the
elements of property simplified the original meth-
ods and ideas in respect to local taxation, the
problem involved rapidly changed, and became
more and more intricate as increasing population
and increasing commerce and intercommunica-
tion required that property should, to a great
extent, be put into a condition to admit of being
readily mobilized, in order to allow of its most
profitable use and application. Thus a large part,
in fact, the larger part, of what is to-day termed
* A copy of an assessment roll of the time of Edward III.
(1329–67) given by Ilingard in his history of England, con-
tains a list of articles, down to a towel and a bench; and the
historian notes that in the returns are carefully mentioned
the very rooms in which the articles were found, and that
there were no exemptions except one suit of clothes for each
person, which were supposed to be included in the tax levied
on the poll or person.
880
TAXATION.
“personal property” in every highly civilized
state, is of the most intangible character, and in
great part invisible and incorporeal; such, for
example, as negotiable instruments in the form of
bills of exchange, state, municipal and corporate
bonds, and the multiplied forms of evidence of
indebtedness, certificates of stock, copyrights,
patents, legal-tender notes, etc., all of which, if
entitled to the name of property, is, through a
great variety of circumstances constantly fluctu-
ating in value; is offset or measured by indebted-
ness which may never be the same one hour with
another; is easy of transfer, and, as essential to
using, is in fact continually transferred from one
locality to another, and from the jurisdiction of
one state to the jurisdiction and laws of another
and a different state. In the absence of some
superhuman power which will permit that to be
seen, which to ordinary vision is invisible, and
to know what through the exercise of ordinary
reason can not be known, any attempt, therefore,
on the part of an assessor to obtain independent
cognizance of such commercial and financial in-
strumentalities for the purpose of valuation and
assessment is, on its face, an impossibility; and if
the co-operation of the person to be assessed is
to be invited or relied on, two of the most pow-
erful influences that can control human action—
love of gain, or the unwillingness to part with
property, and the desire to avoid publicity in
respect to one's private affairs—immediately unite
to oppose and prevent such co-operation.—A re-
sort to personal inquisition, with the accom-
panying machinery of oaths, “dooming” and
penalties, is next in order ; under which the
state, ignoring all rules enacted for the pro-
tection of debtors in the ordinary collection of
debts, pursues the citizen for the collection of
what it claims to be a debt, with no better result,
in nine cases out of ten, than the impairment of
the public sense of both justice and morality.”—
But this statement by no means presents all the
difficulties that are encountered in the attempt to
carry out the popular theory, that it is necessary
to tax everything in order to tax equitably. A
further large proportion of the so-called personal
property of every highly civilized country which
is not intangible and invisible, and which requires
Only ordinary perception for recognition and val-
uation, is in the nature of instruments or subjects
of commerce between states and nations; such as
railroad machinery, ships, steamboats, immense
stocks of raw and manufactured products accu-
mulated in store for the sole purpose of move-
ment, or actually in transitu. What shall be the
Situs of all such things for assessment? If actual
location is to be determinative, then a product of
grain, or merchandise, which, in movement for a
market or conversion into other forms, may hap-
pen to be in Illinois in April, in Ohio or Massachu-
setts in May, in New York in July, in New Jer-
Sey in August, and in Connecticut in October,
will be liable to five separate taxes in one and the
same year; for the laws of each of these states
require their assessors to return for taxation all
Such property as at the periods mentioned may
be actually within the sovereignty and jurisdic-
tion of the taxing authority. On the other hand,
if the fiction of law that personal property fol-
lows the owner is to govern, then all such prop-
erty may be taxed where it is not, and be exempt
from taxation in the place where it actually is,
and where it shares in the benefits that flow from
the protective expenditures—police, fire depart-
ment, etc.—which are incident and necessary to
* “It is claimed that each individual owes the state annual- :
ly a certain sum of money in the way of taxes, propor-
tioned to his entire property. If he voluntarily pays, he es-
capes arbitrary measures. If he declines to pay, or tries to
avoid payment, he has no just cause to complain if he is re-
garded in the light of a criminal, or if the same arbitrary
measures are used to collect his tax, as if it were a debt
Owing by one citizen to another. But let us examine this
averment. If the defaulting tax payer is to be regarded as a
Criminal, and as such placed in the worst possible light, he
certainly ought not to be deprived of the privileges of a
criminal; which are, a right to a public investigation accord-
ing to the rules of evidence adopted by free and enlightened
Communities, a right to be heard before condemnation, and
the right to be presumed innocent of having property sub-
ject to taxation until the fact is ascertained otherwise by
legal proof. But under the existing tax laws of most of the
United States there are not accorded to the tax payer the priv-
ileges of a criminal; for no tax can be assessed on a large
proportion of the personal property of the state according
to any rules of legal evidence that any common law court
would adopt. No assessor, under the laws of New York,
for example, in assessing personal property, can act judi-
cially. The law gives him no power to obtain legal testi-
mony of a character that is admissible in a court; he must.
act the part of an arbitrary despot against an inculpated tax
payer, or not act at all, and his conclusions for acting must
be reached at best by the testimony of those who have no
means of knowing anything, in a legal sense, about the sub-
ject matter under investigation. It seems clear, therefore,
that any attempt to tax without legal evidence is an act of
usurpation or despotism, wholly antagonistic to the princi-
ples of a free government, and that it is a mockery to char-
acterize such acts as, in any sense, judicial proceedings.
Nor does the right to reduce or regulate the assessment by
the oath of the tax payer relieve the law in any degree of its
unequal and despotic character; for every individual hold-
ing public office knows that oaths, as a guarantee of truth
in respect to official statements, have ceased to be of any
value. The assessments made according to the oaths of
parties, furthermore, are not made according to legal evi-
dence, upon examination and proofs; but according to the
will and secret caprice of each tax payer, instigated by his
selfishness, and the natural depravity of human nature.
Each tax payer, under the present rule, becomes, therefore,
the interpreter, not only of the law, but of the fact, and
makes a secret interpretation of both, and we have as many
interpreters of the law as there are numbers of tax payers;
and also an indefinite multiplicity of assessors; for each.
person who unfairly reduces his own assessment, arbitrarily
assesses thereby some other of the community for the differ-
ence. Could or would any people apply the same rules for
the collection of debts? Is there any one who has so much
confidence in human nature that he will propose a law, that
a person who is sued shall be discharged from all claims of
indebtedness if he will make oath, interpreting both the law
and the fact himself, that he owes the claimant nothing?
Is it believed, that under tariff laws, the government could
get sufficient revenue to pay for its collection, if the im-
porter was permitted to offset debts against the value of his
goods; or if the law was peremptory that his oath alone
should be given, and that there should be no legal examina-
tion, inspection or proof of the value or character of the
importations?” (Second Report of Commissioners of New
York, 1873.)
TAXATION.
881
the locality. Furthermore, to tax the instru-
mentalities or objects of commerce in one local-
ity, and to exempt the same from all direct taxa-
tion in another, will clearly not permit the former
to enter a common market on an equal basis for
competition with the latter. And yet this unjust
discrimination is exactly what does result from
the attempt of a majority of the states of the
federal Union to tax all such instrumentalities or
objects under the general head of personal prop-
erty, and the exemption of the same classes of
property from any corresponding assessment in
the British provinces of North America, and in
all foreign countries with which the United States
enter into extensive commercial intercourse and
competition. Boards of trade and commercial
conventions may pass “deploring” resolutions
concerning the decay of American commerce,
and committees of congress may continue to in-
vestigate the same subject, but so long as ships
engaged in the carrying trade on the free ocean,
and owned in Canada, England, France, Ger-
many and Holland, are not directly taxed, and
ships engaged in competition in the same busi-
ness, and owned in Portland, Baltimore, New
Orleans and San Francisco, are taxed, and taxed
heavily, commerce will incline to move in the
paths which are made easy and profitable to it.
The difference in cost of a single penny in lay-
ing down grain at Liverpool, may alone be de-
terminative of the question whether millions of
bushels shall be supplied by the wheat fields of
the United States, or those of Russia, India or
Hungary. —It is also to be noted, that a very
large part of what is termed ‘‘personal property”
is, through the necessities, policy or organization
of governments, made exempt from taxation,as, for
example, all instrumentalities and property of a
government—its bonds, legal tenders and money—
and very generally, also, the deposits and surplus
of savings banks. At the present time about one-
fifth of all of the personal property of the United
States.is believed to be embraced within such a
Acategory of exemption. And finally, as regards
so much of other “personal property’ as is tangi-
ble and visible and clearly within the jurisdiction
and territory of the taxing power, such as articles
of personal adornment, clothing, furniture, works
of art, musical instruments, books, etc., shall we
assume that we have here a class of articles on
which it is desirable to levy taxes? Of course the
popular answer will be in the affirmative; for are
not all these objects, it may be asked, the very
ones best fitted to sustain taxation? and are they
not in great part luxuries rather than necessities?
But how, it may be asked, are you going to tax
them? for it is reasonable to suppose that if they
are to be taxed, it is to be by a system that works
equitably, and not by a system which, by tax-
ing A, and letting B, C and D escape, brings
the law into contempt; and, by making the sense
of the commission of a wrong on the part of
the state the excuse for the commission of an-
other wrong on the part of the individual, grad-
175 VOL. III. — 56
ually undermines the morality of a community
that does not wish to be dishonest. — Distinction
between “Real” and “Personal " Property Artifi.
cial, and not Watural. As a further help to the
understanding of the subject, it is important to
here call attention to the circumstance, that the
distinction between real and personal property is,
to a very great extent, an artificial and not a nat-
ural one. Thus, for example, shares in the na-
tional debt of France (as well as stock in the
bank of France), instrumentalities which in the
United States would be regarded as personal prop-
erty in its most typical form, may by French law
be regarded as real estate, and, as such, adminis-
tered upon. Again, before emancipation in the
United States, slaves (which by the federal con-
stitution were recognized as persons) were in
some of the states regarded as real estate, and
subject to all the laws pertaining to the mort-
gaging, Sale and descent of real property; and
at present in Wisconsin, the one species of prop-
erty which is especially typical of mobility, and
is of little value apart from its capability of mo-
tion, namely, the rolling stock of railroads, is
also made by law real estate. Equally nice is the
distinction in the case of machinery. Unattached,
or movable, it is personal property; screwed or
fastened permanently to the floor or wall, it becomes
real estate. An apple upon the tree is real estate;
but when fallen, and resting upon the ground, it is
not real estate. The attempt to recognize in a
system of laws distinctions of property which are
purely arbitrary, and which sovereign states may
alter at pleasure, are not likely, therefore, to re-
sult in anything generally harmonious and sat-
isfactory. —But the advocates of the infinitesimal
system will probably answer, that the fault here
is not with the system, but with its administration.
Therefore, let a law be made, they say, which will
compel every person possessed of such description
of property to make and hand in to the assessors
a schedule, and certify to its correctness in respect
to items and value by oath. But such substan-
tially is already the law in most of the states of
the federal Union, and its observance and execu-
tion amounts to nothing. Thus, in Ohio, the law
subjects to taxation all visible personal property
above fifty dollars in value, without any offset of
debts; and yet the official reports indicate that not
more than one in ten of the adult population of this
great and rich state has any property in excess of
this amount, which the eye of the law can dis-
cover: although investigation will show that it is
impossible for a person to dress respectably, or
live decently, outside of an alms-house, who has
not always at least double this amount of property
in his possession, Every intelligent assessor in
Ohio, when questioned in respect to the law, will
answer, that it can not be executed with even
an approximation to exactness, and that a serious
attempt to execute it would cause a political rev-
olution; and yet such is the strength of popular
prejudice, that any attempt to repeal this law
would at present be wholly unsuccessful. In
882
TAXATION.
Massachusetts, also, where the law admits no off-
set of debts against visible and tangible property,
and is regarded as complete, and where its execu-
tion is acknowledged to be most arbitrary and
inquisitorial—some towns publishing each year
every known item of each man’s personal proper-
ty, even down to the family pig and a string of
sleigh-bells—the most intelligent officials admit
that their system is a comparative failure; and al-
most a complete failure as to reaching evidences
of indebtedness, which, as before shown, constitute
in modern times so large a part of the personal
property of every civilized community. In the
state of New York, where the letter of the tax
laws in respect to the subjects of taxation is
nearly the same as in Massachusetts and Ohio,
but the administration less stringent, and where
the aggregate of personal property nearly or fully
equals in value the aggregate of real property,
the proportion of the former returned for taxation
is not in excess of one-fifth of the total assessed
valuation; while in the great city of New York,
with a population of over a million, not 1 per cent.
of her citizens stand upon the books of the assess-
ors as possessing any personal property subject to
taxation other than shares in banking institutions.
In the state of New York the assessed valuation
of real estate for the year 1882 was $2,557,218,240,
an increase over the preceding year (1881) of
$124,556,861; while, on the other hand, the as-
sessed valuation of personal property, in the same
state, and under laws that allow but small ex-
emptions, for 1882, was $315,039,085; a decrease
from 1881 of $35,982,104. Again, according to
the census reports for the United States, the gain
in valuation of the real estate of the country be-
tween the years 1860 and 1880, was $6,063,760,876;
while during the same period the valuation of the
personal property of the country deelined to the
extent of $1,245,287,338. Now, as it is in the na-
ture of an economic axiom, that the market value
of the aggregate of land and that of the aggre-
gate of productive capital are equal; and fur-
ther, that the market value of land is merely
the reflection of the value of the productive
capital placed upon it, and its immediate vicin-
ity, it follows that the decline in these valuations
of personal property above noted, is not real;
and simply represents the failure and utter in-
efficiency of the existing laws which attempt
to assess and collect taxes upon such property.
— Such, then, are some of the almost insuperable
difficulties, having their origin in the nature of
things, and growing out of the correlations of
modern civilization, which must be always attend-
ant upon the attempt of any sovereignty to tax
everything over which it has dominion or juris-
diction. And hence it is, that, whenever a system
of infinitesimal taxation has been projected, its
authors have been led, as it were by instinct, to
the conclusion, that its execution with any degree
of effectiveness must depend upon the employ-
ment of extraordinary and arbitrary measures.
Thus, the old Romans, who first established the
taxation of personal property at the period of
the decadence of the empire, and who were not
troubled with any restrictions of a constitutional
character, or any very nice notions about personal
liberty or general morality, clearly perceived this,
and accordingly invested their tax officials with
the power of administering torture as a means of
compelling information and enforcing payment.
And thus also have all the officials in every modern
State, adopting the infinitesimal system, tried to
act, so far as public opinion would uphold them.*
–To complete the record of experience it is only
necessary to add, that every effort which has been
made in modern times to carry out the infinites-
imal system of taxation has proved so uncertain
and unsatisfactory, that every country, with the
exception of Holland and the states of the federal
Union of North America, have abandoned the
project as something wholly impractical. H Con-
siderations respecting an Income Taa’. Recogniz-
ing the difficulties attendant upon the attempt to
collect taxes from a multitude of objects and by
a large variety in methods of assessment, many
economists and writers on the subject of taxation
are inclined to fall back upon and recommend an
income tax, as the one system of taxation most
free from objection. What can be fairer, it is
Said, than that each person should pay in propor-
tion to his annual net gain or income? But prac-
tically an equitable assessment, based on the
* The most curious and confirmatory evidence of this is
to be found in a method of procedure adopted in the city of
Boston, Massachusetts—a method which has no parallel ex-
cept in the records of the middle ages and of the inquisition,
and constitutes, in itself, a satire upon any claim to the en-
joyment of a wholly free and enlightened government. For
failing to obtain satisfactory information about the private
affairs of any individual, the chief assessors and their subor-
dinates in this city, to the number of some fifty, meet in
secret session, in a large upper chamber set aside for the
purpose, and appropriately termed the “dooming chamber,”
when the citizen in question, without being present either
by counsel or in person, is arbitrarily doomed to the payment
of any sum which a majority of those present may think
proper; and from which “dooming ” there can be no appeal.
+ Holland, by reason of her immense national debt, the
largest comparatively of any country, has been obliged to
maintain a most rigorous and extensive system of taxation
in order to raise revenue sufficient to the wants and require-
ments of the state. But it has been prominently brought
out in recent years, that the decadence of Holland dates al-
most from the hour when taxes were imposed on manufact-
ories, commerce, fishing industry, and moneyed capital.
Business went elsewhere, and with the decline of business
the ability to pay taxes diminished, and the burden of taxa-
tion augmented. (See Journal des Economistes, November,
1871; also, “Principles of Political Economy,” J. R. M“Cul-
loch, pp. 470-71.) — Within recent years the local taxation of
Great Britain has been made the subject of special inquiry
and investigation by a committee of parliament; and, in ad-
dition to several official reports, two prize essays on the same
subject have been published by the statistical Society of LOn-
don (i.e., “On the Local Taxation of Great Britain and Ire-
land”; First and second Tayler Prize Essays, by R. H.
Inglis Palgrave, and John Scott, of the Inner Temple); while
the necessity of raising increased revenue in France has also
drawn especial attention to the subject of local taxation in
that country; but it is particularly noticeable, that in neither
England nor France has any prominent speaker or writer ad-
vocated the direct taxation of personal property; or even
alluded to the subject, except to Scout the Very idea of such.
a proposition. -
TAXATION.
883
known income of each man, is an idea that never
has been and never can be realized. When we
come to enacting laws for the collection of rev-
enue, we must take human nature as we find it,
and laws which are directly antagonistic to the
two most powerful influences that can control
human action—love of gain and a desire to avoid
publicity in regard to one's private affairs—can
never be efficiently administered. Under this
head take one illustration. In 1868, with a fed-
•eral law assessing all incomes over $1,000, and
with a trained corps of officials, only 259,385 per-
sons, out of a population of nearly 40,000,000,
acknowledged the receipt of any taxable income;
and when the exemption was increased to $2,000,
the number of persons who paid an income tax
was reduced to 116,000; and subsequently ran
down to 71,000. Experience, therefore, would
seem to demonstrate that an exemption in the
United States of $2,000 of income accredited to
each individual (for, with a view of keeping up an
appearance of equity, the amount of exemption
was allowed to be deducted from all incomes),
would exempt more than nine-tenths of the prop-
erty and more than ninety-nine hundredths of the
property owners of the United States from this
tax. Under such circumstances it is a misnomer
to call such an exaction taxation. — Again, unless
an income tax is an exclusive tax, or if it forms
(as in most instances it would) an element of a
general system of taxation, it must necessarily
involve double taxation; first, on the property
yielding the income, and second, on the income
itself. If the property yielding the income were
under the jurisdiction and control of one state,
and the person receiving the income was a resi-
dent of some other state, the duplication could
hardly be avoided. All modern systems of in-
come taxation have recognized the principle of
discriminating in favor of persons in the receipt
of comparatively small incomes; and have pro-
vided as a fundamental feature of their policy,
that all incomes below a certain sum (usually a
small amount) should be exempted from assess-
ment. Thus, for example, the existing income
tax of Great Britain commences with an assess-
ment on incomes of £150 ($750) and upward, and
exempts all incomes of a smaller amount. In the
United States the income tax, as first enacted in
1863, exempted $600 annual income for each
person, together with whatever was paid annually
for rent and repairs of residence. But under this
form of an income tax there can be no equality
between taxed producers and untaxed producers;
and more especially, as with any considerable
amount of exemption, the untaxed producers will
be the most numerous and the greatest producers
in quantity as a body.” No man is a free man
* If we assume 5 per cent. as about the average profit of
money, land or other property in the United States, over and
above all charges and taxes, then an exemption of $600
would represent an accumulation yielding an income of
$12,000. If the exemption is raised to $2,000, as it was at
one time in the United States, then it would represent
$40,000.
the fruits of whose industry and capital are sub-
ject to surcharged (overburdened) exactions to an
unlimited degree, and from which his immediate
competitors are entirely exempt. Equality of tax-
ation of all persons and property brought into
open competition under like circumstances, is
necessary to produce equality of condition for all,
in all production, and in all the enjoyments of
life, liberty and property. And any government,
whatever name it may assume, is a despotism,
and commits acts of flagrant spoliation, if it grants
exemptions or exacts a greater or less rate of tax
from one man than from another man, on account
of the one owning or having in his possession
more or less of the same class of property which
is subject to the tax. If it were proposed to levy
a tax of 5 per cent. on annual incomes below $750
or $2,000 in amount, and exempt all incomes
above these sums, the unequal and discriminating
character of the exemption would be at once ap-
parent; and yet an income tax exempting all in-
comes below these is equally unjust and discrim-
inating. In either case the exemption can not be
founded or defended on any sound principles of
free constitutional government; and is simply a
manifestation of tyrannical power, under what-
ever form of government it may be enforced. The
experience of Great Britain is often adduced as evi-
dence in favor of the practicability and expediency
of an income tax. But be this as it may, it would
not seem to require argument to prove that any
attempt to assess and collect an income tax which
should be equal and have none of the features of
spoliation or confiscation, from the sparse popula-
tion of the United States extending from Florida to
Alaska, would be entirely unpractical; and that un-
less the rate was excessive, the taxes received would
not pay the cost of assessment and collection ;
while the rights of property, the great republican
principle of equality before the law, and consti-
tutional law itself, would alike preclude any ex-
emption of any income derived from like property.
— Regarding the record of experience as thus de-
tailed, it is not surprising, that many, perhaps
a majority, of economists, are ready to believe
(as was stated at the outset, in this article), that
there is no such thing as a science of taxation,
and no definite rules for practical guidance adapt-
ed to all circumstances; and, despairing of com-
ing to any more satisfactory conclusion, are will-
ing to accept the maxim of M. Say, the celebrat-
ed French economist, that the best system of gov-
ernment finance is to spend little, and the best
taxation that which is least in amount. Keeping
steadily in view, however, the nature, object and
scope of taxation as before defined, together with
the acknowledged results of experience, and pur-
suing the investigation further, it is nevertheless
the opinion of the writer, that certain conclu-
sions can be reached which will commend them-
selves for acceptation as in the nature of prin-
ciples and as infallible guides for administra-
tive purposes. – Nothing can not be Something
for the purposes of Legitimate Tawation. And
884.
TAXATION.
as one of the first and most important steps that
can be taken in such investigation, it is most
desirable that all who wish to understand this
subject should clearly comprehend, (and which,
absurd as the averment may seem, comparatively
few do now comprehend), that nothing can not be
something ; or, in other words, that property is
always a physical actuality, which has become
valuable or property, by some form of labor,
and can not be created by mere paper documents,
except to the extent of the value of the paper and
the writing or printing upon it. In other words,
a title to property, a representative of property,
can no more be property, than a shadow can be a
substance : and if this conclusion be true, then it
would seem to follow, of necessity, that the act
of making debts, bonds, verbal or written con-
tracts, notes, book accounts, mortgages, Ware-
house receipts, titles, certificates of stock, or any
form of salable or transferable rights, is not a
creation or production of any new property, but
simply an exchange, by contract or operation of
law, of the rights and titles of parties in pre-
existing property ; and that any tax on any of
these rights or titles is only another form of bur-
dening the property which is the subject of the
rights or titles. Enact such laws, also, in respect
to taxing titles as we may, experience will prove
that taxes can not be practically levied on imagi-
nary things, or legal fictions, because it is some
physical actuality, in the sense of embodied la-
bor, that must, after all, and in the end, pay all
taxes. If legislatures have the power of creat-
ing fiat property, that is, imaginary or fictitious
property, it is beyond their power to make it
pay taxes, for nothing less than omnipotence
can make something out of nothing.” On the
other hand, let us consider, for a moment, the
* These views, it should be understood, are, however,
heresies to some of the best thinkers and writers on politi-
cal economy. Some confuse themselves on the subject, by
first defining property as anything that can be bought or sold,
and then, since a title—as, for example, a deed—can be
bought and sold, accept the inference that a title is necessarily
property. But let us analyze this definition and assumption.
We can, without doubt, sell and deliver a deed to a farm, but
what is sold in such instances is the farm, including a right,
a right to have dominion over it. But it may be rejoined,
that a right of dominion is property. Let us, therefore, carry
the analysis a little farther. If the farm in California is
property in the state where it is, and where it is taxed, any
right or title to the same farm, held in New York or England,
be it in the nature of a deed, a mortgage, a partnership in-
terest, or any other form of title, can not be the property;
for the same thing certainly can not be property in two sepa-
rate states and jurisdictions, and in two distinct forms and
manifestations, at the same time. On the other hand, if it
be assumed that the title to the farm is the property, and, as
such, can be rightfully taxed where it (the title) is, then it
stands to reason that the subject of the title, the farm in
California, ought not to be also regarded as property, and
taxed in New York or England. In other words, if the title
to the farm is property, then the farm is not really in Califor-
nia at all (unless the owner of the title resides there), but
goes out of that state in the pocket of the individual who
walks off with the title to it. We have all heard of such
concentration of meat that all that is valuable in an ox for
food can be put into a quart can; but such a concentration
of property as is here supposed is something much more re-
markable; and admits of a man having a drove of oxen in
converse of this proposition, namely, that titles:
are property, and, as such, ought not to be ea’empted
from taa’atºom. If this is so, then it would seem
to follow, that, by making titles, we can make
property; and that when a man mortgages his .
farm for $10,000, the community have ten thou-
sand dollars’ worth of real estate and ten thousand
dollars’ worth of personal property, where, before .
the execution of the mortgage, there was only the .
specified value of the real estate. Again, if the
title is the property, then either the actuality is .
not property where it exists, or else we have two .
things occupying the same place at the same time.
Credits and titles, of themselves, have no value, .
and, separated from the things they represent, they
can not honestly be sold at all. Who will buy-
them? But we know the character of the men
who will sell them; and that their representatives.
can always be found in a state's penal institu-
tions.— “A contract,” says Ex-President Woolsey.
(Political Science, vol. i., p. 75), “does not create
a right, but only transfers rights. A contract im-
plies in each party a right to do that which the
contract relates, and to pass over to another what
is my own. If I have no right to use my labor
according to my will, or have no property in a.
thing, I can not transfer the product of my labor,
or what I have in my hands, to another. It is .
thus the exercise in a special case, for the benefit
of another, of a right already existing. I can
not make that the property of another, by con-
tract, which is not mine already. Were it other-
wise—were contracts a source of new power—it
would be stronger than God.” This is a brief
statement of the true nature of a contract or ob-
ligation, and a complete refutation of the popu-º
lar theory that the creation of debts is a creation
of property. Again, when attempts have been
made to claim salvage for the recovery of bills of
exchange, or other titles to property, from wrecks,
the courts have decided that salvage in such cases.
is not allowable; and, therefore, have practically
held that credits and titles are not property, but
mere rights to property, and in the case of nego-
tiable instruments, when destroyed by fire or other-
wise, the right under the destroyed instrument still
remains, and can be enforced in courts when iden-
tified. A clear comprehension, then, of the facts,
that property is embodied labor; that property
can alone suffice to pay taxes; that rights, titles.
and franchises are but the representatives of prop-
erty; and that, having subjected the property to
taxation, there is no sense or equity in again as-
sessing its representative, will at once divest the
problem of taxation from many embarrassments.
which now seem to invest it, greatly simplify it,
and go far toward the determination of sound and
fixed tax principles. – What Constitutes an Ea'émp-
tion ºn Taa’ation. A word here in reference to the
popular idea that the exemption of any form of
property is to grant a favor to those who possess
his hand, ten acres of woodland in his hat, a church with a
steeple in one coat pocket, and a four-story brick block and
a mill privilege in the other.
TAXATION.
885
‘such property. An exemption is freedom from a
burden or service to which others are liable; but
in case of the exclusion of an entire class of prop-
certy from primary taxation, no person is liable,
and therefore there is no exemption. An exclu-
ision of all milk from taxation, while whisky is
taxed, is not an exemption; for the two are not
competing articles, or articles of the same class.
It is true, that highly excessive taxation of a given
article may cause another and similar article, in
: some instances, to become a substitute or com-
peting article ; and hence the necessity of care
and moderation in establishing the rate of taxa-
tion. We do not consider that putting a given
article into the free list, under the tariff, is an ex-
emption to any particular individual; but if we
make the rate higher on One tax payer or on one
importer of the same article than on another tax
‘payer or importer, we grant an exemption. We
use the word “exemption,” therefore, imperfect-
ly, when we speak of “the exemption of an entire
class of property,” as, for example, upon all per-
sonal property; for if the removal of the burden
operates uniformly on all of such, then there can
be no primary exemption. — The Theory and Ne-
ºcessity of Infinitesimal Taa’ation not supported by
either Reason, or Eaſperience. If the above reason-
ing in respect to exemptions in respect to taxation
be correct, it follows that it is not necessary, in
order to burden equitably and uniformly all per-
sons and property, to tax primarily all persons and
property within the taxing district. But as this
proposition is in direct opposition to popular the-
ory (at least in the United States), appeal will first
be made to the evidence of its truth, derived from
the results of actual experience. It is a matter
beyond dispute, that the universal, infinitesimal
system of taxation is unsatisfactory and unjust,
and that the more extensively and rigorously it is
administered and applied, the more unequal and
impracticable it becomes. On this point the proof
already submitted is indisputable. On the other
hand, the testimony is equally complete, that the
more of simplicity we can introduce into a tax
“system, and the more the assessment can be re-
“stricted to a few articles, the more satisfactory the
system becomes. There are places and countries
where personal property is entirely, or in a great
degree, excluded from taxation, as, for example,
the cities of Philadelphia and Montreal, * and the
countries of England and France, and where the
burden of the expenses of the state is made to fall
primarily and almost exclusively upon realty; and
* In 1874 the real estate of Philadelphia was assessed at
$539,003,602, on an asserted full valuation. The personal
property of the city subject to taxation at the same time, was
returned at a valuation of $9,464,873; and included horses,
“carriages, furniture, gold and silver watches. The system of
taxation in Montreal, dominion of Canada, the same year,
was as follows: one-fifth of 1 per cent. on the value of real
estate; one-fifth of 1 per cent. for school tax; one-twentieth
of 1 per cent. On railway property ; 73 per cent. on rentals.
. In addition, there were water rates, and special taxes on insur-
ance,telegraph, ferry and street railway companies, and on inn-
keepers, billiard tables, theatres, breweries, banks, brokers,
“etc., and licenses on grocers, butchers, exhibitions, dogs, etc.
the result is an absolute demonstration, “that a
complicated and inquisitorial system of separate
taxation of goods and chattels is wholly unneces-
Sary, an obstruction to trade, an injury to produc-
tion, an unnecessary invasion of private affairs,
and a self-torment inflicted on land itself.”— Great
Britain, commencing several hundred years ago
with a system which contemplated taxing every-
thing, has gradually reduced her tax list to some
six or eight articles or sources under the customs,
and to an equally limited number under her ex-
cise and local systems; and, with every degree of
concentration, the relief experienced by the whole
population, and the impetus given to material de-
velopment, has been all but universally acknowl-
edged. In France, also, where the number of
owners of real estate, in proportion to population,
is greater than in any other country, the essential
features of a concentrated system also prevail
for local, and, to a limited extent, for general, tax-
ation. And in the case of the United States, it is
to be further noted, that the national government,
except under the exigencies of a great war, has
always recognized in her tax laws the desirability
of simplicity and concentration ; and that now,
although the present system does not tax di-
Tectly the one-fiftieth part of the property of the
country, all parties are agreed that a further lim-
itation of the sources of national revenue is most
desirable. But it is curious to note, that while no
sensible person entertains the idea that the taxes
levied by the national government on spirits, fer-
mented liquors, or tobacco, or upon any imported
articles, are paid by the producer or importer,
except so far as he is a consumer of the same, the
exactly opposite doctrine appears to prevail in the
United States in respect to the incidence of local
taxation; and the principle which has constitut-
ed the basis of most of the state legislation on
this subject seems to have been, “that whatever
is not taxed directly is necessarily exempt.”—
Let us appeal next from the logic of practical ex-
perience to the logic of common sense. The
theory of infinitesimal taxation, if fully and com-
pletely executed, must logically lead, not only to
the taxation of every cent in value of every kind
of property within the borders of every state,
county, township or municipality, but it would re-
Quire a regular system of custom house espionage,
and an army of officers to levy and collect taxes, by
a multiplicity of rates upon all goods or property
introduced into each township or municipality.
If, however, this is not done, what becomes of
the vaunted idea, that equality of taxation re-
quires that every particle of property should be
subject to a direct burden? But, fortunately for
the prosperity of communities, this idea of what
is necessary to produce equality of taxation is
fallacious, and it is likewise fortunate, that it can
be demonstrated that this false system, when par-
tially or fully developed, produces unmitigated
evil and inequality.—All Taa’ation ultimately and .
necessarily falls on Consumption. Property is
solely produced to supply human wants and
886.
TAXATION.
desires; and taxes, like all other expenses which
enter into the cost of production, must finally be
sustained by those who gratify these wants or
desires by consumption. Production is only a
means, and consumption is the end, and the con-
sumer must pay in the end all the expenses of
production. The state is an active and important
partner in all production. Without its assistance
and protection, production would be impeded or
wholly arrested. The soldier or policeman guards,
while the citizen performs his labor in safety. As
a partner in all the forms of production and busi.
ness, the state must pay its expenses, i. e., its
agents, for their services; and its only means of
paying are through its receipts from taxation.
Taxes legitimately levied, then, are a part of the
cost of all production, and there can be no more
tendency for taxes to remain upon the persons
who immediately pay them, than there is for
rents, the cost of insurance, water supply and
fuel to follow the same law. The person who
wishes to use or destroy the utility of property
‘by consumption to gratify his desires, or satisfy
his wants, can not obtain it from the owners or
producers with their consent, except by gift, with-
out giving pay or services for it; and the average
price of all property is coincident with the cost
of production, including the taxes advanced upon
it, which are a part of its cost in the hands of
the seller. Again, no person who produces any
form of property or utility, for the purpose of
Sale or rent, sustains any burden of legitimate
taxation, although he may be a tax advancer; for,
as a tax advancer, he is the agent of the state, and
a tax collector from the consumer. But he who
produces or buys, and does not sell or rent, but
consumes, is the tax payer, and Sustains a tax in
his aggregate consumption, where all taxation
must ultimately rest. In short, no person bears
the burden of taxation, under an equitable, le-
gitimate system, except upon the property which
he applies to his own exclusive use in ultimate
consumption. The great consumer is the only
great tax payer.”—Proportional Taa’es on all things
* On this subject the eminent French economist, Joseph
Garnier, in his Traité des Finances, ch. v., says: “From the
point of view of distributive justice and economic truth, and
to attain an equitable apportionment of the public burdens,
we must put the question: A tax being given, on whom does
it fall in the last analysis? No absolutely satisfactory answer
to this question, insoluble in its generality, has been given
or could have been given. However, Ricardo, who made a
profound study of taxation, thought that taxes, no matter of
what kind, are always paid by the consumer, on his capital
or on his income, the producer always making them enter
into the cost of production; and employing his capital and
his industry in other branches when he can not include the
taxes he pays in such cost. James Mill likewise adopted the
same opinion. This was Franklin's view also; he thought
that the merchant always added the tax to his bill or invoice.
It was likewise Adam Smith’s idea, who, in passing, says:
“The tax is finally paid by the last purchaser or consumer.”
[“Wealth of Nations,” edited by J. E. Thorold Rogers, vol.
ii., p. 132.]—The physiocrates had been led to think that
taxes finally fell, directly or indirectly, on the landed propri-
*etor, to whom they thought the entire net product of produc-
tion, which in the end is the only thing taxed, and which
alone should be taxed by the legislator, comes back. — J. B.
of any given Class will be diffused and equalized on-
all other Property. The examination of the tax.
rolls in any state, city or municipality, will show’
that surprisingly small numbers of persons pri-
marily pay or advance any kind of taxes. Thus, .
it is not probable that more than one-tenth of the
Say says that Ricardo may be right in the abstract, but that, .
in fact, the producer does not always succeed in making the
consumer pay the tax, a part of which he (the producer) must
bear himself. The French economist adds: ‘This subject.
does not admit of an absolute opinion. There is probably no
kind of contribution which does not fall on several classes of
citizens.” According to him, therefore, the subjects taxed
(bases de l'impot) should be increased sufficiently to attain
this end: that those producers who are not reached by one
tax may be reached by another. — The views held by the
physiocrates on production being incomplete and erroneous,
their financial conclusion is no longer worthy of considera-
tion. J. B. Say’s conclusion is in harmony with those of
Ricardo and Smith; but it is lacking in precision. That of
Ricardo, if it be exact, should be amended thus: “Taxes in
general and in the long run, ſall on the consumer.” And, in-
deed, in the face of the facts, it is difficult to admit, that this
diffusion or transmission of burdens is made directly, im-
mediately and without effort. If we may so express our-
selves, Ricardo considers the phenomenon as if it were hap-
pening in vacuo, whereas, in reality, the tax, to find its
natural or definitive incidence and to traverse the succes-
sive strata of society, needs a pretty long lapse of time, a
thing which is effected only after many and complex re-
percussions. The burden weighs at first on certain classes.
of citizens; then, by degrees, it apportions itself among
a greater number of tax payers, or among all tax payers,
and by successive repercussions it becomes an integral part
of the price of things, in such a way that the person who,
buys most things pays most taxes. At first view, the tax
seems paid, whereas it has only been advanced. — However,
the solution of this question is not, we repeat, possible, as:
to taxation considered in general; it is possible, if possible:
at all, only if we consider the different kinds of taxes apart
from one another, and according to their special assessment.
It is necessary to consider apart their accidental and their per-
manent effects, their temporary and definitive effects. We
must remark, also, that both for taxation and for the cost of
production, the law of supply and demand is predominant.
That law it is which permits, according to very variable cases
and circumstances, the landowner, capitalist or workman to
have the tax reimbursed to him by the leaseholder, the man-
ufacturer, or the merchant, and which permits these latter to
have themselves reimbursed, in turn, by the consumers ;
or which compels each of them to pay a part of the tax. It
is, therefore, erroneous to affirm that the producer has him-
self always and equally reimbursed by the consumer. At
the end of a period of time, the tax imposed on one or many
categories of individuals is repercussed on other classes, and
in the end fiscal charges weigh. On all the classes of the popu-
lation, even the taxes on the wealthy, which fall indirectly
and in a certain proportion on the poor themselves, since.
for the labor of the poor there is less demand by the wealthy,
whose saving or consumption the tax has curtailed. —It is.
an error to say of a tax that its weight divided ad infinitum.
becomes almost insensible to those who bear it. This would
be true of one sole tax, but it is not true when there is ques-
tion of several taxes; taxes may apportion themselves and
repercuss as much as you will, but they must be paid; and
they produce their natural effects none the less. Division,
diffusion and repercussion are unfortunately not Synonymous
with evaporation. We can, therefore, formulate no general
law as to the incidence, the repercussion or diffusion of taxes.
On this point there is among economists a great diversity of
opinions and much hesitation.”— Lorenz von Stein, in his
Jºnanzwissenschaft, maintains that all taxes, and even
the fines paid by criminals, finally become component
parts of the prices of things, just as do the costs of produc-
tion, and in the last analysis fall on the consumer. Etienne
Laspeyres, in the article Staatswirthschaft, in Bluntschli’s.
Staatswórterbuch, defends the same view. As far back as
1790 the Marquis de Casaux published a work, “The Absurd-
TAXATION.
887
adult population, or about one-twentieth of the
entire population of the United States, ever come
in contact officially with a tax assessor or tax col-
lector. It is also estimated that less than 250,000,
or less than 3 of 1 per cent. Of the total popula-
tion of the United States, advance the entire cus-
toms and internal revenue of the federal govern-
ment. It is therefore apparent, that there must
be some natural law governing the diffusion of
taxes; and if the great mass of the community
did not instinctively recognize the existence of
such a law, or, to speak more practically, if they
did not feel and certainly know, as it were by in-
stinct, and not by education, that the higher the
taxes in any state, community or country, the
higher their food, fuel, clothing and rents, and
the higher the cost of all production, then why
should the ninety and nine of the mass of the
people take any interest in the fiscal affairs of
the state? And why, if only the few who see
the tax collector are the ones who pay all, or the
major part, of the taxes, is it not for the interest
of the many that expenditures on the part of the
state should always be as large as possible? Why
not have largesses out of the public treasury as in
the days of old Rome? Why not public amuse-
ments for the many at the public expense? Why
not tax the very rich exclusively? Adam Smith
undoubtedly first gave the clue to the real and true
law when he says “that no tax can ever reduce
for any considerable time the rate of profit in
any particular trade, which must always keep its
level with other trades in the neighborhood.” In
Other words, “taxes and profits, by the operation
of the laws of human nature, constantly tend to
equate themselves. Man is always prompted to
engage in the most profitable occupation and to
make the most profitable investment. And since
the emancipation from feudalism, with its sump-
tuary laws, legal regulations of the price of
ity of the Land Tax,” demonstrated by showing that all
taxes, no matter of what kind, ultimately become part of
the prices of commodities. – In addition to the opinions
of recognized economic authorities above noted by M.
Garnier, J. R. M'Culloch, whose article on “Taxation,”
contributed to the Encyclopædia Britannica, James Mill
pronounced “masterly,” thus expresses himself : “The
truth is, that every burden laid, directly or indirectly, on any
article for which there is any considerable demand, falls
ultimately on its consumers.” (“Taxation and the Funding
System,” p. 17.) M. Thiers, as shown by an extract from his
work, “Rights to Property,’” quoted in connection with this
article by the author, was an unqualified believer in the diffu-
sion theory of taxation. Adam Smith would also appear to
have completely indorsed it, when he says, “No tax can
ever reduce, for any considerable time, the rate of profit in
any particular trade " — i. e., all business—which must al-
ways keep its level with other trades in the neighborhood.”
And again, in discussing the taxes upon luxuries, he says,
“such taxes, though they fall indifferently upon every species
of revenue, and are paid finally by whoever consumes the
commodities upon which they are imposed,” etc. The
reader will, therefore, notice that Mr. Wells’ views on this
department of taxation are substantially in harmony with
those of Adam Smith, Ricardo, James Mill, M. Thiers, J. R.
M“Culloch, J. B. Say; they also found an earnest advocate
in one of the soundest thinkers and shrewd practical ob-
servers America has ever produced—the late Isaac Sherman,
of New York. —ED.
labor and merchandise, and other arbitrary gov-
ernmental invasions of private rights, individual
judgment and Self-interest have been recognized
as the best tests or arbiters of the profitableness
of a given investment or occupation. The aver-
age profits, therefore, of one form of investment,
or of one occupation (as originally shown by
Adam Smith), must for any long period equal
the average profits of other investments and oc-
cupations, whether taxed or untaxed, skill, risk
and agreeableness of Occupation being taken into
consideration.” Natural laws will, accordingly,
always produce an equilibrium of burden between
taxed and untaxed things and persons. We pro-
duce to consume, and consume to produce, and
the cost of consumption, including taxes, enters
into the cost of production, and the cost of pro-
duction, including taxes, enters into the cost of
consumption, and thus taxes levied uniformly on
things of the same class, by the laws of competi-
tion, supply and demand, and the all-pervading
mediums of labor, will be distributed, percussed
and repercussed to a remote degree, until they
finally fall upon every person, not in proportion
to his consumption of a given article, but in pro-
portion to his aggregate consumption. The cap-
italist bears no greater burden of taxation (and
can not be made to bear more by any laws that
can be properly termed tax laws) than the propor-
tion which his aggregate individual consumption
bears to the aggregate individual consumption of
all others in his circuit of immediate competition;
and as to his other taxes, he is a mere tax collect-
Or, or conduit, conducting taxes from his tenants
or borrowers to the state or city treasury A
whisky distiller is a tax conduit, or tax collector,
and Sells more taxes than the original cost of
whisky. A dealer in imported goods keeps on
hand a stock of accumulated taxes—imposts, ex-
cises, state, city and local taxes; the farmer charges
taxes in the price of his products; the laborer, in
his wages; the clergyman, in his salary; the lender,
in the interest he receives; the lawyer, in his fees;
and the manufacturer, in his goods. A Bible print-
ed by the Bible society is always in part loaded
with a whisky and tobacco tax, paid by the print-
ers, paper-makers and book-binders, or paid by
the producers of articles consumed by these me-
chanics, and reflected and embodied in their wages
and the products of their labor, according to the
degree of absence of competition from fellow-
mechanics who abstain from the use of these and
other taxed articles. The traveler who stops at .
One of the great city hotels can not avoid reim-
* As applied to the wages of labor, the truth of this prin-
ciple is equally incontestable. “The sewing girl performing
her toilSome work by the needle at one dollar a day, the street
Sweeper working the mud with his broom at a dollar and a
half, the skilled laborer at two and three dollars, the profes-
sor at five, the editor at five or ten, the artist and the song-
stress atten or five hundred dollars a day, are all members of
the working classes, though working at different rates. And
it is only the difference in their effectiveness that causes the
difference in their earnings. Bring them all to the same
point of efficiency, and their earnings also will be the same.”
(W. Jungst.)
888
TAXATION.
bursing the owner for the tax he primarily pays
on the property; and the owner, in respect to the
taxation of his hotel property, is but a great and
effective real estate and diffused tax collector.
And so all proportional contributions to the state
from direct competitors are diffused upon things
and persons in the taxing jurisdiction, by a uni-
formity as manifest as is the pressure upon water,
which is known to be uniform in all directions.”
(Isaac Sherman.)” – Any primary tax payer, who
does not ultimately consume the thing taxed, and
who does not include the tax in the price of the
taxed property, or its products, must literally
throw away his money and must soon become
bankrupt, and disappear as a competitor; and ac-
cordingly the tax advancer will add the tax in his
prices, if he understands simple addition. When
Dr. Franklin was asked by a committee of the
English house of commons, prior to the American
revolution, if the province of Pennsylvania did
not practically relieve farmers and other land
owners from taxation, and at the same time impose
a heavy tax on merchants, to the injury of British
trade, he answered, that “if such special tax was
imposed, the merchants were experts with their
pens, and added the tax to the price of their goods,
and thus made the farmers and all land owners
pay their part of the tax as consumers.” — These
and other like investigations and experiences
would, therefore, seem to warrant the annuncia-
tion and establishment of the following as great
fundamental principles in taxation. Equality of
taxation consists in a uniform assessment of the
same articles or class of property that is subject to
taxation. Taxes under such a system equate and
diffuse themselves; and if levied with certainty
and uniformity upon tangible property and fixed
signs of property, they will, by a diffusion and re-
percussion, reach and burden all visible property,
and also all of the so-called “invisible and in-
tangible * property, with unerring certainty and
* The method in which taxation diffuses itself has been
thus illustrated by M. Thiers, in his work “Rights to Prop-
erty.” “In the same manner,” he says, “ as our senses,
deceived by appearances, tell us that it is the sun which moves
and not the earth; so a particular tax appears to fall upon
one class, and another tax upon another class, when in reality
it is not so. The tax really best suited to the poorest member
of society is that which is best suited to the general fortune
of the state; afortune which is much more for the possession
and enjoyment of the poor man than it is for the rich; a fact
of which we are never sufficiently convinced. But of the
manner, nevertheless, in which taxes are divided among the
different classes of the state, the most certain thing we can
say is: That they are divided in proportion to what each man
Consumes, and for a reason not generally recognized or under-
stood, namely, thattaxes are reflected, as it were, to infinity,
and from reflection to reflection become eventually an inte-
gral part of the prices of things. Hence the greatest purchasers
and consumers are everywhere the greatest tax payers. This
is what I call “ diffusion of taa’ation,” to borrow a term from
physical Science, which applies the expression “diffusion of
light' to those numberless reflections, in consequence of
which the light which has penetrated the slightest aperture
spreads itself around in every direction, and in such a man-
ner as to reach all the objects which it renders visible. So a
tax which at first sight appears to be paid directly, in reality
is only advanced by the individual who is first called upon to
pay it.”
cquality. All taxation ultimately and necessarily
falls on consumption; and the burden of every
man, under any equitable system of taxation, and
which no effort will enable him to avoid, will
be in the exact proportion, or ratio, which his
aggregate consumption maintains to the aggre-
gate consumption of the taxing district, state or
community of which he is a member. — It is not,
however, contended, that unequal taxation on
competitors of the same class, persons or things,
diffuses itself ; whether such inequality be the
result of intention or of defective laws, and their
more defective administration. And doubtless
one prime reason why economists and others
interested have not accepted the law of diffusion
of taxes as here given, is, that they see, as the
practical workings of the tax systems they live
under, or have become practically familiar with,
that taxes in many instances do seem to remain
on the person who immediately pays them; and
fail to see that such result is due—as in the case of
the taxation of large classes of the so-called per-
sonal property — to the adoption of a system
which does not permit of equality in assessment,
and therefore can not be followed by anything of
equality in diffusion. Such persons may not un-
fairly be compared to physicists, who, constantly
working with imperfect instruments, and con-
stantly obtaining, in consequence, defective results,
come at last to regard their errors as in the nature
of established truths. – Benefits of limiting Taara-
tion to a few Classes of Things. “By limiting the
sources or number of primary taxes we limit the
sphere of government and the number and sphere
of Officials. We limit the sources of Official cor-
ruption, and we give strength to free institutions
by leaving the distribution of taxes, in infini-
tesimal form, to individual judgment and indi-
vidual enterprise and competition, the great mo-
tor forces in all free government, rather than to
the acts of officials, which must all be more or
less arbitrary, inquisitorial and offensive; and if
in any degree effective, must be executed by
espionage, oaths and domiciliary visits, which are
not in harmony with the spirit of the age and of
free government.”— Conclusion. The subject ad-
mits of elaboration and illustration to a much
greater extent ; but the general conclusions to
which all investigation seems to lead, and which
in all or part may be worthy of being regarded as
principles, may be collectively stated or recapitu-
lated as follows: 1. The right to tax is inherent
in every Sovereignty, and rests upon necessity.
2. The right to impose a tax, if it exists at all,
“is a right which in its nature acknowledges no
limits.” 3. The subjects of taxation are persons,
property and business. 4, Equality of taxation
consists in imposing an equal burden upon all
subjects—persons or things—of immediate com-
petition. When this principle is violated, the
act of taking, or the enforced contribution, is no
longer entitled to be considered taxation, but
becomes at once arbitrary spoliation or confisca-
tion. 5. “All subjects over which the sovereign
TAXATION.
889
power of the state extends are objects of taxation,
but those over whom it does not extend are, on
the soundest principles, exempt from taxation.”
(Chief Justice Marshall, opinion United States
supreme court.) The limitations of territorial
Sovereignty and the limitations of the taxing
power are therefore coextensive. 6. Protection
is the correlative of taxation; or taxes, under any
government claiming to be free, are the compen-
sation which property pays the state for its pro-
tection. “Taxation” without protection, is, there-
fore, a misnomer. Its proper designation is Spo-
liation. 7. Legitimate taxation must be on ac-
count of and limited to public purposes; “and
whatever governmental exaction has not this
basis, is tyrannical and unlawful.” (Cooley,
“Principles of Constitutional Law.”) 8. Every
citizen should pay taxes, not in proportion to
his ability to give, but according to what he
ought to give ; and what he ought to give can
only be measured by the benefit he is to de-
rive; or, as Adam Smith expressed it, “in pro-
portion to the revenue which they (the citizens)
enjoy under the protection of the state.” 9. The
burden or injurious effect of a tax on produc-
tion or exchange is not to be measured by the
ratio which the tax may bear to the gross value
of the subject of taxation, but rather by the pro-
portion which the tax bears to the profit that
might result from undertaking a certain line
of industry. 10. Property, in its true sense,
as a subject for taxation, is always a physical act-
uality; and all experience proves that taxes can
not be practically levied on imaginary things, or
legal fictions, because it is some physical actual-
ity, in the sense of embodied labor, that must in
the end pay all taxes. 11. The exemption of any
part of the property of the same class which is
made the subject of taxation, is spoliation of that
part which is discriminatingly burdened. On the
other hand, the exclusion of an entire class of
property is not an exemption. 12. Proportional
taxes on all things of any given class will be dif-
fused and equalized on all other property. 13. All
taxation ultimately and necessarily falls on con-
sumption, and the burden of every man, under any
equitable system of taxation, which no effort will
enable him directly to avoid, will be in the ex-
act proportion, or ratio, which his aggregate con-
sumption sustains to the aggregate consumption of
the taxing district, state or community of which
he is a member. — For practical guidance in de-
vising or administering a system of taxation, in-
tended to meet the wants of states or communities
exposed to the competition of similar and com-
peting organizations, the following rule or motto,
proposed by Mr. Enoch Ensley, of Memphis,
Tennessee, may be also regarded as in the nature
almost of a tax axiom: ‘‘Never taa: anything that
“would be of value to you” state, that could or would
run away, or that could and would come to you.”—
Taa’ation Böbliography. Economic literature in
all languages is very deficient in simple, and at
...the Same time clear and comprehensive, works on
the subject of the principles of taxation. No de-
partment of political economy, as stated at the
commencement of this review, is more obscure or
So little understood. Foremost in sources of in-
formation, to which the reader who desires to in-
dependently investigate is referred, is the chapter
on Taa’ation in Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations.
Apart from this, there is probably no one treatise,
which any considerable number of economists are
Willing to accept as standard or authoritative,
Certainly in all departments. The best modern
book, in the opinion of the writer, is J. R. M'Cul-
loch's work, Taa’ation and Funding, 8vo, London,
1845. This work, however, is out of print, and diffi-
cult to obtain, but it can be found in most large
libraries. The following other works may be rec-
ommended or mentioned. The People's Blue Book:
Taalation as it is and as it ought to be, by Chas. Ten-
nant, 16mo, London, 1872. This book is very com-
plete in respect to the tax laws of Great Britain and
their administration; and also discusses, in a very
readable and generally correct manner, the theory
and history of taxation. The Science of Taa’ation,
Leroy-Beaulieu, 2 vols., 8vo, Paris, 1877. This
is the best work in any foreign language on taxa-
tion. Taa’ation of Faed Capital, M. Menier, 16mo,
Paris, 1877; English translation, London, 1880.
Sur la Proprieté, Thiers, Paris. The chapter on
taxation in this work is a luminous exposition of
the principle of diffusion of equal taxation. Gar-
nier, Flements des Finances, Paris, 1862–5, and De
Parieu, Thraité des impots, Paris, 1858, may also be
mentioned. Local Government and Taa’ation, Cob-
den Club Essays, 8vo, London; a series of es-
says, presenting the best exposition of the exist-
ing systems of taxation in countries other than
England and the United States—as Scotland, Ire-
land, Australia, Holland, Belgium, France, Russia
and Spain. The Taa’ation of the United Kingdom,
Baxter, 8vo, London. This work is out of print.
It gives an analysis of British taxation, and
discusses with great ability some of the most
important questions connected with this subject.
See also Noble's The Queen's Taa’es, 8vo, Lon.
don, 1870, and Dowell's Sketch of the History of
Taa’es in England, from the earliest times to the
present day, vol. i., to the civil war of 1642, 8vo,
London, 1876. — Essays: First and Second Reports
of the Commissioners appointed to revise the laws for
the Assessment and Collection of Taa’es ºn the State
of New York, David A. Wells, Chairman. As pub-
lic documents, these reports are now out of print.
The first of these reports was republished by Har-
per & Bros., New York; and editions of both re-
ports were republished in England and France.
The Taa’ation of Railroad Securities, considered
theoretically, and also with reference to actual
experiences in the United States and Europe,
by a Committee of State Railroad Commis-
sioners, Charles Francis Adams, Jr., Chairman.
Rational Principles of Taa’ation, by David A.
Wells, Proceedings of the American Social Sci-
ence Association for 1874. Theory and Practice
of Local Tavation in the United States, do., At- .
890 TAYLOR.
TELEGRAPH.
lantic Monthly, 1876; The Reform of Local Taala-
tion, do., North American Review, April, 1876;
Are Titles and Debts Property? do., Atlantic
Monthly, September, 1877. Twelve Letters on the
Future of New York, by Geo. H. Andrews, Com-
missioner of Taxes, 8vo, New York, 1877. Taaa-
tion in Massachusetts, by W. J. Minot, 8vo, Bos-
ton, 1877. Eaclusive Taa’ation of Real Estate,
by Isaac Sherman, New York, October, 1874.
The Taa, Question: What should be taa!ed, and how
Čt should be taa!ed, by Enoch Ensley, Memphis,
Tenn., 1873. Taa’ation : A Plain Talk for Plain
People, by Jas. H. Canfield, 8vo, 1883, New York,
published by the Society for Political Education.
All of the above papers contain valuable infor-
mation respecting the inequalities and character
of the systems of local taxation in the United
States. They can not all be easily purchased,
but can usually be obtained for reference. For
works expressing views antagonistic to those ad-
vanced in this article respecting the nature of
property, and of credits and titles, the reader is
referred to the works of H. D. Macleod, espe-
cially Principles of Political Philosophy, 2 vols.,
London, 1872; and to Political Economy, by Prof.
A. L. Perry, New York, 18th ed., 1883.
DAVID A. WELLS.
TAXATION, National and Local.
REVENUE, PUBLIC ; TAxATION.)
(See
TAYLOR, Zachary, president of the United
States 1849–50, was born in Orange county, Va.,
Nov. 24, 1784, and died at Washington city, July
9, 1850. In 1808 he obtained a commission in the
army as lieutenant, and in the war which fol-
lowed he rose to the rank of major. At the out-
break of the Mexican war he held the rank of
major general, and was in command of the army
which advanced through Texas into northern
Mexico and won a series of victories ending with
Buena Vista. In 1848 he was the whig candidate
for president, and was elected. (See WHIG PARTY,
ELECTORAL WOTEs.) His short term of office was
marked by the sectional disputes on the subject
of slavery which were settled in 1850. (See CoM-
PROMISEs, V.) The president’s own plan of set-
tlement was the admission of the disputed terri-
tories as states, but it was successful only in the
case of California. See Fry’s Life of Taylor ;
Powell’s Life of Taylor; Abbott's Lives of the
Presidents, 299; 2 Benton’s Thirty Years’ View,
737; 3 Von Holst’s United States, 523 ; 3 States-
"man's Manual, 1831 (for his messages). A. J.
TELEGRAPH. The electric telegraph, by an-
nihilating time and space, is destined to play in
the world a part analogous to that of steam.
These two marvelous discoveries, by lending a
helping hand to each other, have profoundly
modified social relations, and we may, without
exaggeration, assert that they are the beginning
of a new era for humanity. The electric tele-
graph, which is still only in its infancy, has not yet
yielded all the results which it is destined to pro-
duce; but we may even now get an obscure.
glimpse of what they will be. In politics it sim-
plifies diplomatic relations, by putting govern-
ments themselves, by means of dispatches—which
follow one another, so to speak, minute after
minute—in direct communication, and by doing
away with the hesitation and perplexity of their
agents abroad. Without doubt political questions.
remain none the less obscure and embarrassed on
this account, but the different opinions formed,
the new facts which arise, becoming known in-
stantly to the states interested in them, may have:
for effect rapid decisions and effectual measures,
which but for electricity might arrive too late.
From the point of view of the security of govern-
ments, the electric telegraph is one of the greatest
administrative forces, for it gives the authorities.
the means of knowing immediately what is taking.
place at the points the most remote from the cen-
tre, and of making their action felt there without
delay. In criminal matters the telegraph is a
powerful auxiliary of the police; it prevents the
flight of the guilty party by shutting him up in its
wire-work as in the meshes of a net. By the tele-
graph line a general-in-chief may be present on
every square of the chess-board on which the ter-
rible game called a military campaign is played,
and he may keep in constant and direct commu-
nication with his lieutenants. Unfortunately the
net-work of telegraphs does not long remain in-
tact in times of war, for the destruction of lines.
is one of the first acts of hostility. However, in
the Italian war (1859) a successful effort was made
to organize a system of lines which the enemy
could not reach: this was the flying telegraph, the
apparatus of which, that is, the posts and the
wires, put up rapidly by agile workmen, followed
the different army corps, and assisted in every
movement. Prussia made a noteworthy use of
this system in 1870. — We consider the electric
telegraph one of the most powerful means of civil-
ization which has been given to man; and we are:
of opinion that its future was opened to it only
the day on which it was placed within the reach
of everybody. The telegraph, which up to that
time, in Europe, had been only a mysterious agent.
in the hands of governments, became an inde-
fatigable apostle of human progress. From the
point of view of morals, it is scarcely necessary
to point out the influence of the relations it estab-
lished among all the nations of the globe, of its
diffusion of light which tends to raise all nations.
to the same level, and to the community of inter-
ests by which it draws them nearer to each other, or
unites them. From the politico-economic point of
view, the results are still more striking. By Saving.
the time formerly spent in negotiating commercial
affairs, the telegraph has increased commercial
transactions in an incalculable proportion. It
furnishes, moreover, sure and rapid information
which enables merchants to expedite in time to a
distant point, goods, the demand for which is:
urgent. Lastly, it establishes, among all the ex-
TEN-HOUR LAW.
TENNESSEE. 891.
changes and all the markets of the world, a soli-
darity which prevents or attenuates catastrophes.
In a still other order of facts, what misfortunes
the telegraph may prevent! In case of a confla-
gration, it calls assistance from all directions; in
case of a flood it warns those who live on the banks
of rivers of their impending danger; on railways
it averts the most frightful accidents by its power
of vastly surpassing in speed the utmost rapidity of
steam. We here recall the influence of the tele-
graph on facts of the moral order, and its influence
economic and material, for neither politics nor po-
litical economy can be indifferent to these results.
The increase of enlightenment and wealth is ad-
vantageous, not to individuals only; that increase
is an increase of force in which the state which
has known how to develop wealth and enlighten-
ment finds the elements of its power. And hence
it is that the most civilized peoples, who are at the
same time the greatest peoples, were the first to
understand the necessity of extending their net-
work of telegraphs as rapidly as possible.—In the
United States the exploitation of telegraphic lines
is still left to private industry. And so it was in
England before the law of July 31, 1868 (31, 32
Vict., ch. 110), which authorized the government
to purchase the telegraph. The great states of
Europe have reserved to themselves the monopoly
of the telegraph. Apart from the fiscal interest
which urges governments to find new sources of
revenue, there prevailed not long since in Europe
a powerfully accredited opinion, that the tele-
graphic mode of correspondence should be re-
served to governments. But since the introduc-
tion of railways and the immense movement of
relations and affairs which has been the conse-
quence of that introduction, the telegraph has
been looked upon as the necessary complement of
that new means of transportation, and European
governments have considered, that, with certain
guarantees, the use of telegraphic correspondence
should be allowed to the public.”
- EDMOND BOUQUET.
* Aristide Dumont, wrote in 1854: “The use of the tele-
graph, once it has been popularized, is called to render to the
production of wealth services which have some relation to
those created by economic and rapid ways of circulation,
since these services shorten time, that stuff of which life is
made, and since, in every industry, they impress greater
activity upon production, and, as a consequence, diminish
the amount of unproductive capital, lower the amount of
current expenses in business, facilitate exchanges, and
abridge transactions of every kind.—But from another point
of view, the telegraph is called to render much greater Serv-
ices to industry. If we suppose the net-work of telegraphs
extended and popularized, not only over the entire surface
of Europe, but over every civilized point of the world, a
single day would be sufficient to exchange news between
the most distant markets; thenceforth there would be none
of those uncertainties which so frequently disturb commer-
cial relations, and none of those rumors which facilitate
stock-jobbing [?]. A sort of equilibrium would become es-
tablished, and production would become more independent
of the emotions produced by politics. Is it not true that if
the electric telegraph had embraced, in the course of the
year 1853, the Danubian provinces, Constantinople, St.
Petersburg, Odessa; and that if it had been possible to ex-
change a dispatch, in one day, between these different points
and Paris, France's public funds and industrial values would
TELLERS. (See PARLIAMENTARY L.Aw.)
TEMPERANCE MOVEMENT in the Unit-
ed States. (See PROHIBITION, PolicE.)
TEN-HOUR LAW. In the early years of the
textile manufactures in this country, the working
day was protracted to twelve, thirteen and some-
times fourteen hours. The progressive diminu-
tion of the hours of daily labor in the manufact-
ories of Great Britain to eleven hours was followed,
by a demand for a similar reform in the manufact-
ories of the United States. After the enactment of
the English ten-hour law in 1847, this demand be-
came more and more articulate. In 1853 the mana-
gers of all the manufacturing companies in Lowell,
Lawrence and Fall River, voluntarily reduced the
hours of labor of their operatives to eleven per
day. No further reduction having been made.
during the twenty succeeding years, in 1874
Massachusetts enacted a law making ten hours.
the limit of the day’s labor for all females and for
all males under the age of eighteen years, em-
ployed in the textile industries. (Public Statutes
of Massachusetts, chap. 74, secs. 4, 5.) In Common-
wealth vs. Hamilton Manufacturing Company,
120 Mass. Rep., 383, the supreme court held this,
act to be constitutional. C. C.
TENNESSEE, a state of the American Union.
It originally belonged to North Carolina, whose
boundaries extended indefinitely westward. In
1768 the country was opened to settlement by the
treaty of Fort Stanwix, and a company of hunt-
ers, most of whom became settlers, was formed,
June 2, 1769. Their settlements were on the Wa-
tauga, one of the headwaters of the Tennessee;
and the inhabitants, framing a code of laws, signed
by each person, became a body politic, the Watauga,
have undergone fewer fluctuations ? Kept constantly in--
formed of what was happening, Frenchmen would have been
less excited, and this would have prevented the ruin of a great
many individuals. – Thus the electric telegraph facilitates,
the production of wealth in two ways: 1, by saving time and
permitting a diminution in the amount of unproductive cap-
ital ; 2, by establishing a sort of equilibrium between all,
markets, and of thus diminishing the influence of the uncer-
tainty of politics on industry. —But if we consider the tele-
graph from the moral point of view, we believe that it has.
introduced into the world a revolution still more profound.
If, in fact, the various continents are united, and they will
be united in the course of this century [a prophecy fulfilled
not very long after it was made]; if communication can be-
had in a few hours between London, Canton, New York,
Calcutta and Paris, a new force will be added to the civilizing-
power of humanity, to the diffusion of enlightenment and to.
the radiation of good upon evil. The limits which pen peo-
ples up will be blotted out, and peoples the most remote from
one another acquire solidarity and unity. Men will emigrate
more freely, for they will be no longer morally separated by
any barrier. The superabundant population of Europe will
feel less repugnance to transfer their activity to shores hith-
erto unknown ; for, if they go even to the antipodes, they
will not be, as formerly, remote from their country, their
relations and their habits. This fear of remoteness has been
hitherto a great obstacle to the spread of civilization. Some
peoples are less subject than others to this species of nostal-
gia, and it is they who have accomplished the greatest things.
The telegraph will tend more and more to remove that.
obstacle.”
892
TENNESSEE.
association. Their numbers and their spirit of in-
dependence were both increased by immigrants
driven from North Carolina by the tyranny of the
royal governor, Tryon; and conventions at Jones-
borough, Aug. 23 and Dec. 14, 1784, formed a
'separate state government, variously called Frank-
land and Franklin, in its official documents. The
constitution was ratified by popular vote; a legis-
lature and a governor, John Sevier, were elected;
and a civil war between the two state governments
seemed imminent. The North Carolina party in
Tennessee finally overthrew the Frankland gov-
ernment in May, 1788; and the North Carolina
legislature passed an act of oblivion, and admitted
Sevier as a senator. In 1790 North Carolina ceded
Tennessee to the United States, stipulating that
the inhabitants were to have all the benefits of the
cordinance of 1787 (see that title), except that slav-
ery was never to be abolished. The cession was
accepted by act of April 2, 1790. A governor,
William Blount, was appointed, and the territorial
legislature met in February, 1794. A convention
: at Knoxville, Jan. 11 – Feb. 6, 1796, framed the
first state constitution, which was not submitted
to popular vote. Under it, the state was admitted
by act of June 1, 1796.-Bound ARIES. The North
Carolina act of cession describes Tennessee as the
country within the chartered limits of North Car-
olina, and west of a line following the northeast
and southwest line of the Iron, or Bald, Mount-
aims. The northern and southern boundaries of
Tennessee are therefore properly westward pro-
longations of the corresponding boundaries of
North Carolina. The northern boundary, between
North Carolina and Virginia, was run as far as the
Holston in 1749, but from that point it was unde-
fined. * Feb. 2, 1820, commissioners from the two
states, at Frankfort, agreed that the northern
boundary of Tennessee was to vary slightly north
from a true west line, from the Cumberland
mountains to the Cumberland river, and then re-
turn to latitude 36° 30'. The western boundary
is the Mississippi, the western boundary of the
|United States until 1803. — Knoxville was the cap-
ital until 1802. The capital was then changed to
Nashville by the legislature, but has never been
permanently fixed there by the constitution. The
name of the state was given from that of its prin-
cipal river. — ConstituTIONS. The first consti-
tution, considered by Jefferson “the most repub-
lican yet framed in America,” gave the right of
suffrage to freemen over twenty-one, on six months’
residence; provided for a house numbering not
more than forty nor less than twenty-two, appor-
tioned to the counties according to population; for
a Senate, one-third the number of the house, elect-
red by districts; and for a governor—all elected by
the people for two years; and for a judiciary, to be
appointed and to hold office during good behavior;
and indirectly legalized slavery, by providing for
the enforcement of “ laws and ordinances now in
force and use in this territory,” until altered or
repealed by the legislature. — A new constitution
was framed by a convention at Nashville, May
19 – Aug. 30, 1834, and ratified by popular vote,
March 5–6, 1835. The principal changes were a
permission to increase the numbers of the house
to seventy-five, until the population should reach
1,500,000, and thereafter to ninety-nine; the omis-
sion of certain property qualifications for holding
office, which had become obsolete; and the exten-
sion of the right of suffrage to persons so nearly
white as to be competent witnesses against a white
man. In 1853 an amendment made the judiciary
elective by popular vote, on a different day from
state and county elections. In 1865 a convention .
at Nashville, Jan. 9–26, framed an amendment
abolishing slavery, and a schedule, both ratified,
Feb. 22, by a popular vote of 21,104 to 40. The
schedule declared the ordinance of secession, and
the military league of 1861, null and void; repu-
diated the rebel war debt; and established a severe
test oath for voters, containing the following among
other provisions: “That I ardently desire the sup-
pression of the present rebellion; and that I sin-
cerely rejoice in the triumph of the armies and
navies of the United States, and in the defeat and
overthrow of the armies, navies and all armed
combinations in the so-called confederate states.”
— The present constitution was framed by a con-
vention at Nashville, Jan. 10 – Feb. 22, 1870, and
was ratified by a popular vote of 98,128 to 33,872,
March 26. It made very few changes, the princi-
pal ones being as follows: the legislature was given
power to take away the right of suffrage as a pen-
alty for conviction of infamous crimes, and to
prohibit the intermarriage of whites and negroes,
or persons of mixed blood to the third generation;
slavery, and all laws recognizing the right of prop-
erty in man, were prohibited ; the governor was
given the veto power; and homesteads, to the value
of $1,000, were reserved to heads of families, and
exempted from sale under legal process. – GOV-
ERNORS : John Sevier, 1796–1801; Archibald
Roane,1801–3; John Sevier, 1803–9; Willie Blount,
1809–15; Joseph McMinn, 1815–21; William Car-
roll, 1821–7; Samuel Houston, 1827–9 ; William
Carroll, 1829–35; Newton Cannon, 1835–9; James
K. Polk, 1839–41; James C. Jones, 1841–5; Aaron
V. Brown, 1845–7; Neil S. Brown, 1847–9; Will-
iam Trousdale, 1849–51; Wm. B. Campbell,1851–3;
Andrew Johnson, 1853–7; Isham G. Harris, 1857–
62; Andrew Johnson, military, 1862–5; Wm. G.
Brownlow, 1865–9; De Witt C. Senter, 1869–71;
John C. Brown, 1871–5; James D. Porter, 1875–9;
Albert S. Marks, 1879–81; Alvin Hawkins, 1881–3.
— PoliticAL HISTORY. From the beginning of
Tennessee's settlement, there has been a marked
political division between East Tennessee, the
mountainous region, and the more level Country
west of it. The former was first settled, and the
Watauga association, and the strength of the state
of Frankland, had their location in it. For a long
time the country around Nashville was the only
settled district outside of it. The intervening
country was a wilderness, and emigrants to Nash-
ville usually went down the Tennessee to the Ohio,
and thence up the Cumberland to their destination.
TENNESSEE.
893.
In both the districts of the state the dominant
principle was that of democracy, strengthened by
frontier independence. The admission of the state
was therefore resisted by the federalists in con-
gress as long as prudence would justify resistance;
and the new state was strongly democratic. All
her officers were democrats, and her electoral votes
were cast for the regular democratic candidates at
every election until the disruption of that party in
1824–5. Personal influence was always the strong-
est point in state politics. William Robertson, in
West Tennessee, and John Sevier and William
Blount, in East Tennessee, held a commanding
influence in their respective sections. About the
time of Blount’s impeachment before the United
States senate (see IMPEACHMENTs, I.), he was
elected to the state senate, and that body unani-
mously chose him as its presiding officer. While
his own impeachment was in progress, he was
himself presiding over a state impeachment trial.
His return to the United States senate was only
prevented by his death, in 1800. Sevier was state
governor twelve years, the intermission of two
years being necessary on account of his ineligibil-
ity for more than three terms in succession, and
was then a congressman until his death. Before
the last of these leaders had disappeared from the
scene, all their influence had been concentrated in
One man, Andrew Jackson. Before the war of
1812 his personal character for frankness and fear-
lessness had brought him many friends, but prob-
ably more enemies, in the western part of the state.
His military services, and the success of Tennes-
see troops under his leadership, made him the au-
tocrat of the state. When he was nominated for
the presidency by the legislature in 1824, only
twenty-five members ventured to vote against him;
and only three of these were elected to the next
legislature. The popular vote for president in the
state, 1824–32, will show his popularity: 1824,
Jackson 20,197, Clay 312, Adams 261; 1828, Jack-
son 44,090, Adams 2,240; 1832, Jackson 28,740,
Clay 1,436. Many towns voted unanimously for
Jackson. In one, it is said, a stranger, at the end
of the election of 1828, found the inhabitants pur-
suing, with intent to tar and feather them, two of
their number who had voted against Jackson, and
so disturbed the unanimity of the town.—The
state-rights element, which in various southern
states became a part of the whig party (see that ti-
tle) about 1832–4, was strongly represented in Ten-
nessee. In 1835 it was strong enough to elect Can-
non governor, and ten of the thirteen congressmen;
and in 1836 the state's electoral votes were cast for
Hugh L. White (see his name), the representative
of this element. For the next twenty years the
general rule of Tennessee politics was that there
was a strong democratic majority in Middle Ten-
nessee, from the Cumberland mountains to the
Cumberland river, a slight whig majority in West
Tennessee, and a strong whig majority in East Ten-
nessee. In 1839 Jas. K. Polk had 54,680 votes
for governor, and Cannon 52,114; but in the next
two elections Polk was beaten by Gov. Jones by
about the same majority. Until 1856 the state's.
electoral votes were always cast for the whig can-
didates; and in 1844 Clay received 60,030 votes
for president to 59,917 for Polk, a Tennessee can-
didate. From 1843, until 1853, five of the eleven
congressmen were usually whigs; and from 1853.
until 1855, six of the ten, were of that party. In
1845 the democrats elected A.W. Brown governor;
in 1847 he was beaten by Neil S. Brown, whig;
in 1849 N. S. Brown was beaten by Trousdale,
democrat; and in 1851. Trousdale was beaten by
Campbell, whig; all by very small majorities. In
State elections, therefore, Tennessee was exceed-
ingly doubtful; but the general majority in the
legislature must class, it as a whig state. — On the
dissolution of the whig party, its whole strength.
in Tennessee was turned into the “American *
party. (See those names.) In 1855, for governor,
Andrew Johnson, democrat, had 67,499 votes to:
65,332 for M. P. Gentry, “American "; and the
latter party carried the legislature. As secession.
and war grew more threatening, the feeling and
vote in East and West Tennessee against both be-
came stronger. In 1859 seven of the ten congress-
men, all from these two sections, were elected by
the “Americans”; but the democratic majority
in Middle Tennessee was large enough to give.
Harris 71,539 votes in the state, to 59,867 for Rob-
ert Hatton, “American,” and elect him. — Gov.
Harris was an active secessionist, and to him is.
attributable the secession of the state in 1861. At
the first appearance of trouble he summoned the
legislature to meet Jan. 7. 1861, and consider the
state's federal relations. The legislature passed a.
bill to call a convention, but at the same time sub-
mitted the question to popular vote. At the elec-
tion, Feb. 9, East Tennessee gave 25,611 majority
against, Middle Tennessee 1,382 majority against,
and West Tennessee 15,118 majority for, a con-
vention, and the convention did not meet. The
first attempt at “coercion” (see SECESSION, III.)
renewed the excitement. The legislature was sum-
moned to meet again, April 25, but this time a
more certain, though absurdly illegal, plan was
followed. May 1, in secret session, the legislature.
authorized the governor to appoint commissioners.
to conclude a military league with the confederate.
states, and the league was ratified by both houses,
May 7. It purported to agree, that, “until the
state becomes a member of the confederacy,” her
whole force should be under the control of the
president of the confederate states, ‘‘ upon the
same basis, principles and footing as if said state
were now and during the interval a member of
the said confederacy.” Having thus invited con-
federate troops into the state, and authorized the
governor to levy 55,000 state troops, the legisla-
ture completed the farce by submitting to popular
vote, June 8, a declaration of independence and
ordinance of secession. It is quite useless to argue.
about the right of a state legislature to make a
treaty, or the power of a people to vote under
military domination. It is only remarkable that
So large a vote was cast against Secession. In
894
TENNESSEE
East Tennessee the vote was 14,780 for, and
32,923 against; in Middle Tennessee 58,265 for,
and 8,198 against; in West Tennessee 29,127 for,
and 6,117 against; in the camps, 2,741 for, and
none against; total vote, 104,913 for, and 47,238
against, Secession. June 24, Gov. Harris, by
proclamation, declared the state out of the union.
The popular vote on June 8 had also ratified
the confederate constitution.
Gov. Harris was re-elected by a vote of 69,269 to
40,467 for Wm. H. Polk; but early in 1862 the
advance of the federal forces drove him. Out of
the state capital. — March 5, 1862, the senate con-
firmed the president’s nomination of Andrew John-
son as military governor of Tennessee. He had
been a democratic United States Senator at the
time of the secession; but had treated his state's
action with great contempt, and gone on with his
official work at Washington. In 1864 he made
an unsuccessful attempt to reorganize the state
government; and an equally unsuccessful attempt
was made to organize East Tennessee into a sep-
arate state. In the following year Johnson was
successful; the amendment to the state constitu-
tion, abolishing slavery, and the 13th and 14th
amendments, were ratified ; and the state was
“restored to her former proper, practical rela-
tions to the union,” by act of July 24, 1866.
Wm. G. Brownlow, a radical republican, was
elected governor; the legislatures were republican;
and the electoral vote of the state in 1868 was cast
for Grant by a popular vote of 56,628 to 26,129
for Seymour. — The first legislature, in 1865,
passed an act to regulate the elective franchise,
restricting it to 1, persons “publicly known to
have entertained unconditional union sentiments
from the outbreak of the rebellion to the present
time”; 2, those who had since come of age; 3,
persons of proved loyalty from other states; 4,
federal soldiers; 5, loyal men who had been forced
into the confederate armies; and 6, persons known
to the election judges to “ have been true friends to
the government of the United States.” It disfran-
chised ex-rebels of higher rank for fifteen years,
and others for five years, and imposed on all voters
the test oath before referred to. In the following
year the test Oath was made still more voluminous
and stringent; it now contained 366 words. In
February, 1867, disfranchisement was made a
penalty for insurrectionary movements within the
state, and negroes were allowed to vote. This
latter step was proper under the constitution Of
1834 (then in force), which gave the right of suf-
frage to every “freeman,” without using the word
“white.” Disorder in the western and middle
Sections of the state now became very general.
(See INSURRECTION, II.; RU-KLUx RLAN.) Laws
were passed authorizing the governor to arm state
guards (mostly drawn from East Tennessee), and
to appoint commissioners of registration; and the
governor interpreted the latter law as giving to
these commissioners the appointment of election
judges. Feb. 20, 1869, the governor proclaimed
martial law in nine counties of Middle and West
In the autumn,
eSt.
Tennessee. — In the summer of 1869 the domi-
nant party split, and Gov. Brownlow retired to
the United States senate. Of the two candidates
for the succession, Senter declared in favor of the
removal of most of the disfranchisement laws, and
received the democratic vote, Wm. B. Stokes, the
radical candidate, received 55,036 votes, Senter
120,333; and both branches of the legislature were
democratic. The revision of the constitution in
1870 followed; and until 1880 the democratic ma-
jority was very large, except in 1872. In that
year Andrew Johnson ran as an independent can-
didate for congressman at large; Horace Maynard,
the republican candidate, was elected over his two
democratic opponents; and the democratic vote in
the presidential election was 94,391 to 83,655 re-
publican. One district in East Tennessee has stead-
ily chosen a republican congressman; and in 1873-5,
seven of the ten congressmen were republicans, ow-
ing to the democratic division of 1872. In 1881–3
there are three republican congressmen, two from
the East Tennessee districts, and one from the
Memphis district. — Since 1874 the debt has been
the paramount feature in state politics. Most of it
was contracted before the rebellion, to aid state rail-
roads under internal improvement laws of 1851–2.
The total amount in 1870 was $41,863,406.69, with
$20,701,825.76 nominal assets, most of it in rail-
road bonds paying no interest. The war had re-
duced the taxable property of the state nearly
one-half; it was very difficult to collect any taxes;
and one of the first steps of the new democratic
government in 1870 was to reduce taxation over
one-half. Thereafter, payments of interest went
by default, until in 1879 the net state debt was
$20,221,300 principal, and $4,052,717 lapsed inter-
In 1876 an arrangement to fund the whole
debt at sixty cents on the dollar and 6 per cent.
interest, commonly called “the 60–6 plan,” was
nearly agreed upon between the state and the
bondholders. Since that time various plans of
settlement have been proposed, named similarly
from their percentage of total debt and of inter-
est, and ranging from “50–4” to “100–3”; and a
small number of voters have even favored total
repudiation of the railroad debt. In 1880 the leg-
islature passed a “50–4° bill for most of the debt,
but it was submitted to a popular election, and re-
jected on a very light vote. In 1880 the whole
election turned on the debt question. The repub-
lican convention nominated Alvin Hawkins for
governor, and declared that all the debt should
be paid; that any proposition from the bondhold-
ers for its decrease should be thankfully accepted;
and that the democrats were responsible for the
failure of the 60–6 plan in 1876. The greenback
convention nominated R. M. Edwards, and repu-
diated all but $2,025,000 of the debt. The “state-
credit” democratic convention favored prompt
payment on the best terms that creditors would
accept, and nominated John W. Wright; but a
part of the delegates seceded, nominated S. F.
Wilson, and called for repudiation of the debt.
The result of the election gave the state her first
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
895
republican governor since Senter, by the follow-
ing vote : Hawkins, 102,969; Wright, 79,191 ;
Wilson, 57,424; and Edwards, 3,641. The legis-
lature chosen had fifteen democrats and ten re-
publicans in the senate, and thirty-seven republic-
..ans, thirty-six democrats, and one greenbacker in
the house; but the nominal representatives of both
parties were so divided by the various plans that
any agreement seemed impossible. In April, 1881,
the legislature at last passed a “100–3’ act, pro-
posed by the creditors, making the coupons re-
•ceivable for taxes; but in February following the
state supreme court decided the law unconstitu-
tional, on account of its coupon feature. — In ad.
'dition to John Bell, Thos. H. Benton, Samuel
Houston, Andrew Jackson, Andrew Johnson,
James K. Polk, and Hugh L. White (see those
names), the following have been prominent in state
politics: John D. C. Atkins, confederate congress-
man 1861–5, democratic congressman 1873–83;
William Blount, territorial governor 1790–96, and
democratic United States senator 1796–7; Aaron
W. Brown, democratic congressman 1839–45, gov-
•ernor 1845–7, and postmaster general under Bu-
•chanan; R. R. Butler, republican congressman
1868–75; George W. Campbell, democratic con-
gressman 1803–9, United States senator 1811–14
and 1815–18, secretary of the treasury under Mad-
ison, and minister to Russia 1818–21; Wm. B.
Campbell, whig congressman 1837–43, governor
1851–3, and republican congressman in 1867; Wm.
‘C. C. Claiborne, democratic congressman 1797–
1801, governor of Mississippi and Louisiana terri-
tories, and of the state of Louisiana; John Cocke,
major general under Jackson in 1813–15, and
-democratic congressman 1819–27; Henry Cooper,
democratic United States senator 1871–7; David
Crockett, an eccentric whig congressman 1827–31
..and 1833–5, killed in battle at Bexar, Texas, in
1836; John H. Eaton, democratic United States
senator 1818–29, secretary of war under Jackson
(see KITCHEN CABINET), governor of Florida ter-
tory 1834–6, and minister to Spain 1836–40; Emer-
son Etheridge, whig and “American" congress-
man 1853–7 and 1859–61, clerk of the house of
representatives 1861–3, and thereafter One of the
state republican leaders; Meredith P. Gentry,
whig congressman 1839–43 and 1845–53, and con-
federate congressman 1861–5; Felix Grundy, dem-
Ocratic congressman 1811–14, United States sena-
tor 1820–38, and attorney general under Van Bu-
ren, 1838–40; Isham G. Harris, democratic Con-
gressman 1849–53, governor 1857–62, and United
States senator 1877–89; John F. House, Bell elect-
or in 1860, and democratic congressman 1875–83;
Howell E. Jackson, democratic United States sen-
ator 1881–7; Cave Johnson, democratic congress-
man 1829–37 and 1839–45, and postmaster general
under Polk 1845–9; James C. Jones, governor
1841–5, and whig United States senator 1851–7;
David McK. Key, democratic United States sen-
ator 1875–7, and postmaster general 1877–80; Hor-
ace Maynard, “American * and republican con-
gressman 1857–63 and 1866–75, state attorney gen-
eral 1863–5, minister to Turkey 1875–80, and post-
master general 1880–81; A. O. P. Nicholson, dem-
Ocratic United States Senator 1841–3 and 1859–61
(see PopULAR SovKREIGNTY); Bailie Peyton, whig.
congressman 1833–7; John Rhea, democratic con-
gressmen 1803–15 and 1817–23; John Sevier, gov-
ernor of Frankland 1784–8, governor of Tennessee
1776–1801 and 1803–9, and congressman 1811-15;
Frederick P. Stanton, democratic congressman
1845–55, and governor of Kansas as a territory
1858–61; Wm. B. Stokes, whig congressman
1859–61, major general of United States volun-
teers, and republican congressman 1866–71; Al-
bert G. Watkins, whig congressman 1849–53, and
democratic congressman 1855–9; W. C. Whit-
thorne, democratic congressman 1871–83; and Fe-
lix K. Zollicoffer, state comptroller 1845–9, whig.
and “American ’’ congressman 1853–9, brigadier
general in the confederate army, killed at Mill
Spring in 1862. — There is no good history of
modern Tennessee. See authorities under NORTH
CAROLINA, JACKSON, ANDREW, and JOHNSON,
ANDREW; 6 Bancroft's United States, 377 (Watau-
ga association); 3 Hildreth’s United States, 539
(Frankland); 2 Poore's Federal and State Consti-
tutions; 2 Hough's American Constitutions; Hay-
wood’s History of Tennessee (to 1796); Ramsey’s
Ammals of Tennessee (to 1800); Putnam's Life of
James Robertsom, and History of Middle Tennessee;
Smith’s Historical View of East Tennessee (1842);
Carpenter's History of Tennessee (1854); A. V.
Brown's Speeches; McLeod’s Rebellion in Tennes-
see (1862); McPherson’s Political History of the Re-
bellion, and History of the Reconstruction; Tribune
Almanac, 1888–82; Committee Reports to the Ten-
messee Legislature, 1875–82.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE. Term
, measures the period for which an office is con-
ferred. Tenure marks the conditions upon which
the office is held, whether for a fixed or for an in-
definite time. The term of the president and the
term of the postmasters he appoints are each for
four years; but the tenure of the former can be
severed only by the judgment of the Senate upon
an impeachment, while that of the latter exists
only during the pleasure of superior officers. —
Offices may be divided into three classes: civil,
military and naval. In the two latter classes defi-
nite terms are now rarely found, though we read,
that, among the Greeks, generals sometimes held
supreme command only for the term of a day; and
Roman consuls commanded armies during their
short fixed terms of office. Military and naval
officers, in modern times, almost invariably hold
their offices, if not for indefinite periods, at least
for periods determined in reference to probable
efficiency of service. Yet, soldiers are generally
enlisted for a defined term. (As to the tenure of
military and naval officers, in the United States, see
PROMOTION, REMOVALS FROM OFFICE.) — Civil
offices may also be divided into three classes: legis-
lative, judicial and executive. To properly pre-
896
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
sent the important considerations by which term
and tenure should be determined in these three
classes—in their whole range from the president
to the highway surveyor, from the national chief
justice to the town justice of the peace, from the
federal senator to the village trustee—would re-
quire a space far beyond that accorded to this ar-
ticle. Few subjects within the range of political
science have been so utterly neglected as that of
the proper tenure of office, and none requires a
more careful study. It is not perhaps possible to
refer to any chapter where the subject is treated
in even the most general manner. As a natural
consequence, we find not only in different states,
but in the same states at different times, for the
same offices, terms of diverse lengths, and tenures
of miscellaneous variety. The interests of factions
and the ambition of leaders, rather than sound
views of public interest, seem to have often de-
termined both term and tenure. — On the one side,
intense partisans tell us that parties can not be
sustained without being able to give many places
to which a long term or a stable tenure would be
fatal; while, on the other, the most experienced
and thoughtful citizens assure us that parties may
trust to sound principles and good administration;
repudiating the spoils and office mongering by
which they say parties are only debauched and
enfeebled. The reasons are almost obvious why
the term and tenure most appropriate for one of
these three classes would not be equally appro-
priate for the others. — 1. So far as judicial offices
are concerned, the most important considerations
have been presented in the article on Judici ARY,
ELECTIVE. And see REMOVALS FROM OFFICE.
It may be added, however, that nowhere is well-
trained experience more valuable than upon the
bench. It not only promotes facility in the doing
of the business of the courts, and clearness and
consistency in the interpretations of the laws, but,
it develops that judicial frame of mind which is
unperturbed by partisan excitements, and which
commands the confidence of litigants. It can
hardly be denied that the inexperience which
short judicial terms have brought upon the bench
has not only greatly delayed the administration of
justice, but has greatly impaired public confidence
in the courts of every grade. —2. Turning next to
the legislative department, we find decisive reasons
why the terms of those elected to represent the
people should not be long. These officers repre-
sent interests, opinions and policies which are con-
stantly changing; and, at every phase, they have
an equal claim to be represented in debate; and, if
sound, to be expressed in statutes. Permanency
of tenure on the part of legislators would ob-
viously tend to defeat one of the great ends of rep-
resentative government. Yet, so manifest have
been the advantages of that wisdom and facility
which come from experience in legislation, and so
deep has been the sense of peril from incompetent
legislators, that a great portion of these officers—
notably Senators, both state and federal—have
been allowed to hold their places for terms during
which great changes of interests and opinions have.
taken place. And so strong has public opinion.
been in this direction of late that in many of the
states, the terms of judges, senators, mayors, and
school officers, as well as of various other officials,
have been considerably extended within the last
few years, perhaps nearly doubled since the re-
action has become vigorous against the spoils sys-
tem theory of rotation in office. Biennial sessions.
of the legislature in more than half the states are:
due to the same cause. — Despite these changes,
the vast volumes of crude statutes—more than a
thousand pages a year in a single state—have pro-
claimed the incompetency of the law makers;
causing needless litigation, and making justice re-
mote and uncertain. It will be in vain that a
remedy will be sought in limiting legislative power
by constitutional amendments. As the statutes.
become more intricate and official functions more
complicated, with our growing wealth and popu-
lation, there will more and more be a need of
larger official experience and larger official terms
—to be held under a sterner responsibility—for
the Supreme work of legislation. Some plan may
perhaps be devised for securing more experience
in state legislatures, by classifying members, while
increasing their terms of office, after the analogy
of the national senate. —But in the legislative de-
partment there are inferior officers, not elected by
the people—the clerks and other subordinates of
congress, state legislatures and municipal councils.
—who are in no sense representative, but are sim-
ply ministerial officers. Next to fidelity and nat-
ural capacity, the highest qualification for these :
places is experience, invaluable experience, in the
discharge of their duties. These duties have no
honest relation to party politics, or to majorities.
in legislatures, but are the same at all times and
under whatever dominant party. The office of
speaker is, within certain limits, an obvious ex-
ception. But, the less he is a partisan the more
fit he is for his duties. The constitution of the
United States, like that of Great Britain, confers.
the power of selecting and removing these sub-
ordinates upon the legislative chambers, without
restriction as to term or tenure. So it is also in
the state legislatures. Who will deny that econ-
omy, efficiency, purity and dignity, in legislation,
alike demand that those officials should hold their
places so long as they fitly perform their duties,
and that they should be made to feel it to be a
disgrace to allow that performance to be influenced.
by partisan considerations? — Before the British
spoils system was suppressed by the reforms made
within this generation, there had been as demoral-
izing contests in the British parliament, over the
appointment and removal of such subordinates, as .
have ever disgraced our congress or state legis-
latures. Now, holding during good behavior and,
efficiency, the selection of these officials in Great
Britain is by methods with which no party inter--
feres; and the discharge of their functions is.
treated as having no political significance. Par-
liament has now more time for its great work, and .
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
897
its dignity is no longer impaired by ignominious
contests about clerkships and doorkeepers. The
most perfect representation, which in theory is
Sought, would be attained by the shortest practi-
cable terms of office. Terms of six years for fed-
eral Senators, of two, three and four years for
state Senators, of two and three years for gov-
ernors, mayors and various other officers—as they
now exist—can not be justified on the mere theory
of representation. This theory is based on the
right of the people at all times to have their in-
terests and opinions reflected in the halls of legis-
lation. But terms, even if for only a single year—
the shortest we recognize—violate that theory. For
the opinions of parties and individuals do not
make an annual revolution, but often more fre-
quently. When Rhode Island, following the ex-
ample of Grecian republics, fixed the terms of her
representatives at six months, and Connecticut
added to those short terms semi-annual sessions of
her legislature, each at a different place, for the
more convenient and exact representation of the
people; and when the factious spoils system spirit
of Florence and other medieval republics reduced
official terms, first to six, then to four, and finally
to two months, they obviously enforced a term
tending to a more exact representation than any
now provided for in the United States. – Our
longer terms for such offices are justifiable only on
the assumption, which they proclaim, that the ex-
perience secured by longer public service is more
valuable than any ideal exactness in representa-
tion. This is an important truth, as bearing upon
the proper term of mere ministerial and executive
subordinates. It is a truth which senators will do
well if they do not longer forget, when they stand
up in their places, in the fifth or sixth year of their
terms—perhaps long after the majority in the
state and legislature which they pretend to repre-
sent has been changed since their election—and, in
the name of justice and sound policy, demand ro-
tation, removals and short terms on the part of
their own subordinates, who represent nothing
but the unchanging need of having the constant
volume of public work well done, and done in the
same way year after year, whichever party is in
power, and whatever policy prevails. – 3. The
executive department is affected by more compli-
cated reasons. To approve or disapprove legisla-
tive enactments is the highest function of govern-
ors and presidents. To that extent they are both
legislative and representative officers. Next in
importance is the duty of those officers to carry
into action, in the conduct of executive affairs,
the principles and policy which the people ap-
proved in their election. This, too, is in a sense
a representative function. Much the same reasons,
therefore, which require the terms of legislative
officers to be short, apply also to presidents and
governors; and, in a limited degree, they apply to
mayors also. In fixing the term of the president at
four years, under our constitution, considerations
drawn from his representative function plainly
prevailed—must we not say unwisely prevailed?
176 VOL. III. - 57
—to the extent that it made his term shorter than
that of a senator. — The constitution fived the term
of no officer in the eaecutive department eacept that of
the president and vice-president. It created no de-
partment; yet says “the president may require
the opinion in writing of the principal officer in
each of the executive departments upon any sub-
ject relating to the duties of their respective
offices.” Upon this narrow basis, and the prece-
dents of the British cabinet, our cabinet has been
reared; and while each of them are equally unrec-
ognized in the constitution and laws (and with us
the duty and responsibility are upon the president
alone), the cabinet has been, in practice, in both
countries, the great central council for advice in re-
gard to all executive action. It is clear, therefore,
that the heads of departments, who are to advise
him as to his gravest duties, need to have faith in
the principles and policy which the president is
bound to enforce; and for that reason their tenure
of office should depend mainly upon him. There
may also be a few other executive officers—foreign
ministers sent on special missions involving na-
tional policy would be examples—whose peculiar
fitness will depend upon their sharing the views
of administration, and in all such cases there
should clearly be a tenure in the discretion of the
president. — When we go below such officers, we
come upon those who not only, upon the theory
of the constitution and the laws, but from the
very necessities of government, are required to
obey legal instructions from those above them to
whom they are directly responsible. Each head
of a department is clothed by law with the author-
ity and duty of directing the official action, sub-
ject to the constitutional power of the president,
of all the subordinates of that department. Among
all the eighty or more thousands of subordinates
standing in graded ranks, from the department
secretaries down past great collectors and post-
masters to the customs service inspectors, the
keepers of light houses and of signal and life-sav-
ing stations, there is not one who, according to
the laws or sound policy, has any right of advice
as to the policy or principles of an administration;
not one for whom obedience to legal instructions
is not a plain duty; not one whose political opin-
ions are material for good administration; hardly
one whose active participation in partisan politics
is not a public detriment, tending to neglect of
public business and the oppression of the citizen.
The duties of these officers are in no sense repre-
sentative. They are not called upon to act upon
any political theory. They perform no duties
that depend upon the triumph of political opin-
ions or the success of any party. Whichever party
comes into power, whatever party they belong to,
their duties are the same. They have no right to
regard the political or religious opinions of any
citizen in their official action, or need to know
them. They do not, like legislators, or town and
village officials, meet to consider changing inter-
ests and fluctuating politics, but, month after
month and year after year, they do, or they
898
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
should, steadily devote themselves to the same
branch of that vast, unchanging public business
which, from the smaller officers to the greater,
moves on, like brooks and rivers, in an unbroken
order and everlasting continuity. Unjustifiable as
political indifference is in the citizen, the use of
official authority and influence to coerce the action
of the private citizen is not less indefensible. We
may not, as was found necessary in England, for a
hundred years, disfranchise those officials, but we
should clearly see, and should make them feel, that
they not only need not, but should not, as officials,
interfere with party politics or regard political
opinions as qualifications for their duties. – Be-
fore considering what should be the term and
tenure of this vast body of federal officials—re-
ferred to in the national constitution as ‘‘inferior
officers,” and to which a vastly larger number of
state and municipal officials holding like relations
should be added in our reflections—it will be well
to notice some objections which stand in the way
of treating the subject upon its own merits. It
is declared that any term and tenure which pre-
vents these officers being removed and their suc-
cessors appointed at the pleasure of the majority,
disastrously restricts the freedom and effective-
ness of party action, and also deprives them of
essential representation in the official life of the
country. — The answer is not difficult. Under
our institutions, parties are inevitable and Salu-
tary. Their great functions are to arouse, embody,
sustain and carry forward a sound public opinion
until it finds fit expression in statutes and execu-
tive action. Under these institutions the federal
and state legislators, and all who govern in mu-
nicipalities and towns, are selected by the vote of
the majority, which, in itself, but too generally
expresses the mere will of the dominant party.
In the selection of mayors, governors and presi-
dents, that party majority is still more potential.
These two classes of officers, the one wielding all
legislative authority, and the other all executive
authority, in their united action exert all the pow-
er which our institutions give, or a free people
can safely confer, for the representation and en-
forcement of their will. All of these officers may
be, and in our practice they generally are, within
their respective spheres, the trusted favorites of
the dominant party, bound in the double allegiance
of gratitude and dependence. Through these two
classes of officers the adherents of the dominant
party practically make, enforce and repeal laws
and ordinances at pleasure, instruct and require
obedience from all who hold subordinate positions
under them, enforce all principles and guide all
policy in obedience to which the vast affairs of
the nation, from the light houses and the signal
stations to foreign embassies, and the great de-
partments, are conducted. Is not this enough?
Have we ever suffered because parties have needed
opportunities or influence greater than these? Is
not here a sphere broad and grand enough, a
power and opportunity dazzling enough, to in-
spire the patriotism and reward the zeal of any
party and of the noblest man who ever led any
party in a great nation? Unless, therefore, it is
claimed that a party, which can not gain or retain
power by adhering to the spirit of the constitution
and to common honesty and justice, may strength-
en itself by using public authority to debauch and
coerce the people—unless it can be shown that
the term and tenure of “inferior officers” should,
in the merely selfish interests of parties, be made
brief and precarious, so that patronage and the
appointing power may be conveniently prostituted
as merchandise in the shambles of partisan poli-
tics—we may confidently declare that term and
tenure alike of ‘‘ inferior officers” should be de-
termined quite irrespective of mere party consid-
erations. – But let us not imagine, because these
inferior officers are not representative and are not
given large discretionary power, that their term,
tenure or relations are not very important. The
facts are quite otherwise. The creation of a term
of four years for about 3,500 of these offices (to
the history of which we shall refer), and the sub-
jection of nearly all of them to a tenure of favor-
itism and partisanship, within the last forty-five
years, contrary to the spirit of the constitution
and to the practice of the early statesmen, while
working a disastrous revolution in the measure of
filling the executive departments, have also exert-
ed a demoralizing influence upon parties and up-
on all official and political life. It was the short
terms and the precarious tenure thus created
which made it possible for great parties to levy
the expenses of their campaigns, under the name
of assessments, upon the humbler officials in the
executive service, and to compel them to do the
most servile work. It was these political assess-
ments which President Grant prohibited by ex-
ecutive order; which President Hayes declared to
be either “a gross injustice to the officers or an
indirect robbery of the public treasury”; which
President Garfield declared to be “shameful,” and
“the source of an electioneering fund which in
many cases never gets beyond the pockets of the
shyster and the mere camp followers of the par-
ty.” It has been these precarious tenures and
the habit of removing worthy officials to make
places for clamorous favorites and henchmen,
which developed the disgraceful acts of patron-
age mongering and office brokerage, by reason of
which office seeking has been made a sort of bus-
iness, and vast numbers of supernumeraries have
been foisted upon the public service. It caused
President Garfield to declare “one-third of the
working hours of senators and representatives to
be hardly sufficient to meet the demands in refer-
ence to the appointments to office,” and that
“with a judicious system of civil service, the
business of the departments could be better done
at almost one-half the cost.” In the debates pre-
ceding the passage of the civil service reform bill
(of Jan. 16, 1883,) for the suppression of such
abuses, Senator Dawes, of One party, declared
that the existing system of office getting “destroys
the congressman's independence and makes him.
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
899
a slave,” and Senator Pendleton, of the other par-
ty, said, “It has debauched public morality and
made Guiteau possible. It drives Senators and
representatives into neglect of their chief duty of
legislation, and often makes the support of an ad-
ministration conditional upon obtaining office for
friends.” — At the time of the formation of the
federal constitution no human forecast could have
taken the measure of such evils in our day. The
few officials and the simple administration of the
first decades hardly gave a hint of the varied
complication and the vast official force we now
have. There was $2,000,000 of revenue the first
year, under the constitution, against more than
$360,000,000 last year. Even as late as the ad-
ministration of John Quincy Adams, the revenue
was not one-fourth as much altogether as the sur-
pluses now annually applied to the reduction of
the national debt. The number of officers at the
two periods is in about the same ratio. It is
hence no matter for surprise that no adequate pro-
visions are found in the constitution concerning
the tenure of ‘‘ inferior Officers ” in the executive
service. The occasion for surprise is in the fact
that with clearer lights, the later generations have
created terms and a tenure which have greatly
aggravated the consequences of the defects of the
original constitution. —It is by no means an easy
matter to decide with precision what would be
the most useful tenure in the several parts of the
executive service. Many considerations must be
estimated, and a broad field of facts must be kept
in view. We have only to consider the great va-
riety of officials to see, that, to most of all the
general rules we may lay down there must be
some exceptions. The officers in the state depart-
ment, for example, range from the secretary and
the ambassadors to the consular clerks and the
copyists. The department of the treasury has at
Washington about 3,000 subordinates; to which
must be added more than two hundred collectors
of internal and customs revenue, the surveyors,
the naval officers, the officers of the mints—and
all their subordinates—the light house, the life
Saving, the hospital and the revenue marine serv-
ices, and many more isolated officials. In the
department of the interior there are the pension
and patent office service, the land office, the Indi-
an Service, the bureaus of education and agricult-
ure, and various other officers. The war and
navy departments have civil subordinates of many
grades, widely separated. More than 42,000 post-
masters, with all their subordinates, and various
others, with peculiar duties, of which the railroad
and steamboat mail service and the complicated
mail contract System are examples, are under the
postmaster general. The department of justice,
with its district attorneys, marshals and electionsu-
pervisors and their subordinates, the officers of the
District of Columbia and of the territories, are
also to be added, before we get a general view of
the vast number and variety of the officials under
the executive. — The authority to appoint the
higher officers, Subject to confirmation by the sen-
ate, is given by the constitution to the president,
with the power, as we have seen, in congress to
vest the appointment of inferior officers in heads
of departments. Beyond declaring that all civil
officers shall be removed on impeachment and
conviction of treason, bribery and other high
crimes and misdemeanors, the constitution leaves
the stupendous power of removal to mere im-
plication. It has, however, been authoritatively
decided, and the constant practice has been (save
as qualified of late by the tenure of office acts),
that the power of removal belongs to the presi-
dent as an incident to the power of appointment.
The constitution provides no term, and, otherwise
than by implication, no tenure for any one of
these inferior officers. And prior to a law of
1820, to which further reference will be made,
no term or tenure was provided by law for any of
them, with the single and peculiar exception of
marshals. The tenure of usage had been that of
combined efficiency and good behavior. (See
REMOVALS FROM OFFICE, CONFIRMATION BY THE
SENATE.) It was left for the politicians of later
days to discover and to teach, that, to select public
servants for their merits, and to retain them because
they continued meritorious, are “un-American.”
That teaching has been the cause of a pernicious
practice in its spirit. — Let us glance at the causes
and progress of this great change as bearing upon
terms and tenure of office. Aaron Burr early laid
the foundations of the spoils system; and, with
the aid of Van Buren, his most apt and distin-
guished disciple, that system had been made po-
tential in New York, several years previous to
1820. It required short terms, and partisan tests
for office. It demanded a tenure at the pleasure
of the official superior, and required that Superior
to be a partisan leader. It made political opinions
a ground of appointments and removals, and en-
forced servile obedience to chieftains on the part of
all officials. Before 1820, Gov. Clinton, of New
York, complained, in a message, “of an Organ-
ized and disciplined corps of federal officials in-
terfering in state elections.” Tammany Hall was
then becoming a political power. New York poli-
tics had already become so notoriously unscru-
pulous as to attract almost as much attention as
during the present decade. Jackson, contriving
how to reach the presidential chair, and affecting
the character of a non-partisan, said to a New
Yorker, “I am no politician, but if I were a poli-
tician, I would be a New York politician.” Van
Buren soon made him one. — The Spoils System
spirit, thus early reduced to practice in New York,
was being slowly developed in other parts of the
Union. The creed of the spoilsmen had not been
avowed, but the men who were first to proclaim
it were leading politicians before 1820. In that
year, William H. Crawford, secretary of the treas-
ury, was a presidential candidate, and Van Buren,
who was to come into the senate in 1821—even
then an aspirant for the presidency—was Craw-
ford's supporter. They were unsurpassed for
their skillful use of patronage. Both were able to
900
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
see that if the terms of the inferior officers were re-
duced to four years, there would be more patron-
age to dispose of, and an easier introduction of
the New York system. — On April 20, 1820, about
thirty days before the adjournment of congress, a
bill, drawn by Mr. Crawford, was reported in the
senate, which created a term of four years for
district attorneys, collectors, naval officers, navy
agents, surveyors of customs, paymasters, and for
several other less important officers. Mr. Adams
says the object of the law was to gain support for
Crawford for the presidency. The officers thus
subjected to the new term are said to have become
“ardent Crawfordites.” This was the first fixed
term for any such office. The bill further declared
that the holdings of all such officers whose com-
missions were dated Sept. 30, 1814, should expire
on the day and month of their date next after
Sept. 30, 1820. The expiration of other holdings
was fixed for a year later. The bill was thus re-
troactive, and it made the terms eaſpire on the eve of
the presidential election. There was to be a presi-
dential election in 1824, when Crawford and Jack-
son were to be leading candidates. How largely
and promptly this change would add to the pat-
ronage of the treasury, where Mr. Crawford pre-
sided, need not be pointed out. — But these were
hardly the most ominous provisions of the bill;
for, taking the side of the partisan spoilsmen,
against the approved doctrines of Madison, and
the practice of every president, it declared that
those officers “shall be removable at pleasure.”
Here was rotation legalized for the sake of rota-
tion. Here was the first demand of surrender ever
made upon the general government in the Spirit
of the New York spoils system. Here was prac-
tically a revolution in the term and tenure of office;
an emphatic degradation of the standard accord-
ing to which the fate of every one of these officers
was to be determined. Without debate, in silence,
suddenly, almost stealthily, this disastrous bill
was carried through both houses. Mr. Adams,
then secretary of state, says President Monroe
signed the bill without perceiving its true char-
acter. The avowed reason, or rather the apology,
for the new policy, was that it would remove un-
worthy officials; the speciousness of which appears
in the facts that the tenures of all in office, worthy
and unworthy alike, were, without inquiry, severed
absolutely; and nothing but official pleasure was to
protect the most meritorious in the future. There
was no showing of delinquencies; no charge that
the president could not or would not remove un.
worthy officials, not a word of discussion, not a
record of votes, on this revolutionary bill 1 — But
there were statesmen who foresaw the disastrous
consequences. On Nov. 20, 1820, Mr. Jefferson,
in a letter to Madison, said of the law that “it
saps the constitutional and salutary functions of
the president, and introduces a principle of in-
trigue and corruption which will soon leaven the
mass, not only of senators, but of citizens. * *
It will keep in constant excitement all the hungry
cormorants for office; render them, as well as those
in place, sycophants to their senators, * * and
make of them, what all executive directories be-
come, mere sinks of corruption and faction. It
must have been one of the midnight signatures of
the president, when he had no time to consider or
even to read the law.” Madison replied in the
same spirit. When Mr. Calhoun, then secretary
of war, heard of the sudden passage of the bill,
he declared it “one of the most dangerous ever
passed, and that it would work a revolution.”
The dangerous consequences of the new policy
began very soon to appear. Five years after the
passage of the act of 1820, an able committee of
the senate, with Mr. Macon at the head—who
never aided a relative or henchman to an office—
made an earnest report in favor of its repeal. But
the spoils system had secretly made progress.
Vain, indeed, was it to attempt to repeal a law
which had already become a bulwark of the new
system, in the spirit of which Jackson, the mili-
tary hero of the day, and Van Buren, the partisan
chieftain of New York and the greatest party
manipulator of his time, were working together
for the presidency. — So rapidly did the spirit of
revolution advance, that Jackson's first message
declared “rotation a leading principle in the re-
publican creed.” Ignoring the true rule that every
man's claim upon office is in proportion to his fit-
ness to fill it, the same message proclaimed the:
communistic doctrine that every man has an equal.
right to office; which, by his removals and appoint-
ments, was interpreted to mean, in practice, that.
no man but a partisan servile to himself had any
such right which a president was bound to respect.
Three years later, in 1832, Senator Marcy, in the
senate of the United States, expounded the spirit
of the new four years term spoils system in these
memorable words: “When they [New York poli-
ticians] are contending for victory, they avow the
intention of cnjoying the fruits of it. If they are
defeated, they expect to retire from office. If
they are successful, they claim, as a matter of
right, the advantages of success. They see noth-
ing wrong in the rule that to the victor belong
the spoils of the enemy.” The new system was,
therefore, simply this : no term for more than
four years; the tenure, removals at pleasure;
office and salaries the spoils of party warfare;
rotation in order to give offices to as many servile
partisans as possible; appointments and removals.
for political reason; the duty of the official to be
an obedient worker for his party and a servile
vassal of its managers. (For the practical effects
of this revolution see SPOILs SYSTEM and RE-
Mov.ALS FROM OFFICE.) — The attempt made in
the senate in 1825 to repeal the law of 1820 was
renewed in that body in 1835. Despite the weight
of Jackson's administration against it, the repeal-
ing act passed the senate by a vote of 31 to 16;
every distinguished name in the Senate—Benton,
Webster, Clay, Calhoun, Ewing, Southard and
White, among them, except Buchanan, of Pennsyl-
vania, and Wright, of New York, those states then,
as of late, being pre-eminently the “machine,”
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
901
“spoils system” states—being recorded in favor of
the repeal. The senate had not at that time come
very much under the vicious influence of patron-
age, or of the feudal code called “the courtesy,”
which have in late years been so disastrously po-
tential in that body. There had been few officers
to confirm. In the debate upon the repealing act,
though several senators boldly avowed the bar-
barous creed of Marcy, Webster said the evil effects
of the law of 1820 vastly predominated, and that
he was for staying the plague. Mr. Clay declared
“the tendency had been to revive the dark ages
of feudalism.” Mr. Calhoun stated, that “the law
had taught officers that the most certain road to
honor and fortune is servility and flattery.” Mr.
Southard declared that “it had tended to make
office-holders servile suppliants, destitute of inde-
pendence of character and manly feeling.” — The
partisan power which the four-years term had thus
suddenly and vastly increased, aided by the pres-
tige of Jackson's administration, and the forces
marshaled for Van Buren’s election to the presi-
dency the next year, defeated the repealing act.
The victory of the spoilsmen increased the pres-
sure and strength in favor of extending short
terms, which the partisan leaders demanded. They
next laid siege to the postoffice department. The
postal administration, which, when Washington
became president, required only seventy-five post-
masters, at the opening of Jackson's first term
required about eight thousand. Practically, the
tenure of postmasters had been during good be-
Havior and efficiency, and there was no term fixed
by law. The management of the postal service
had been upon business principles, the postmaster
general appointing and removing postmasters.
There was no good reason for a radical change in
that regard. Under such principles, Mr. McLean,
as postmaster general under John Quincy Adams,
liad, with great satisfaction to the people, man-
aged our postal affairs. He was not willing to
enforce the new “spoils system ’’ in his office; and
for that reason Jackson hastened to remove him
to the supreme court bench, and to put a more
compliant and most inefficient officer in his place,
It was very natural that the attempt should be
made to extend the four-years-term theory to the
postoffice. Every partisan manipulator wishing
more offices for bribes, every politician desiring
to be a postmaster, and every congressman seek-
ing patronage, had an interest in favoring it. It
would strengthen the four-years-term policy in the
senate if a bill for enforcing it should contain pro-
visions for increasing the patronage of Senators
by requiring postmasters to be confirmed by that
body. Accordingly, in 1836—the year of Van Bu-
ren's election as president—a bill was passed, re-
quiring that all postmasters whose compensation
was one thousand dollars a year or upward, should
be appointed by the president and confirmed by
the senate, and that their term of office should be
but four years. They were made removable “at
the pleasure of the president.”— It is not easy to
decide who was most pleased with such a law,
the partisan managers whose spoils it greatly in-
creased, the Senators whose patronage it more
than doubled, or President Jackson, to whose
despotism it added many vassals. But what each
gained was the common loss of the people; nor
was there hardly a pretense that any public inter-
est (unless a perpetual rotation of postmasters and
a more universal proscription are in the public in-
terest) would be served by this postal service
revolution. Postmasters whose income was less
than one thousand dollars were left to be appoint-
ed and removed by the postmaster general, and
their original constitutional tenure was left un-
changed, nor has a four years or other term ever
yet been applied to them. — Thus were a great
number of purely business offices deliberately
brought within the range of political forces, subject-
ed to senatorial confirmation, given a term which
both suggested and facilitated their being made
incentives and rewards of selfish activity, and a
part of the spoils of partisan victory in every
presidential election. Nor was this all. New
grounds of difference between the Senate and
the president were thus created, and great strength
was added to the growing power of patronage in
that body, which in later years has enabled it to
usurp and exercise a controlling and dangerous in-
fluence over the appointment and removal of all
the principal officers of the government. Here
was the beginning of a great and lamentable
change in the character and influence of that body.
Naturally, true statesmen have since had less in-
fluence in the senate. No legislation beyond these
two acts of 1820 and 1836 was necessary to com-
plete the partisan revolution in the politics and
official life of the country. But various other ad-
ministrative officers have since been given a term
of four years; and it is worthy of notice that
congress, disregarding the great distinction be.
tween legislative and ministerial functions, has
almost never given an officer a longer fixed term
than four years. It looks almost as if it had been
a settled purpose to force every officer, by a fear
of losing his office, to become a henchman of
party, leaders in every presidential contest. —
Greatly as the country was alarmed by the mani-
fest degradation of political life which the new
system was causing, the great contest concerning
slavery, becoming absorbing at this time, was fatal
to any considerable effort for reform from 1835 to
1867, when Mr. Jencks brought the subject before
congress. He prudently directed attention mainly
to methods for entering the public service, rather
than to term or tenure. It soon appeared that the
first condition of success was fuller information
among the people in regard to administrative
affairs. For more than thirty years the methods
of administration, the debates and the political
literature of the country, had been misleading the
people in the spirit of the “spoils System,” and
hardening them into acquiescing familiarity with
its abuses. The new theory of short terms for
the inferior executive officers had come by many
to be regarded as an essential part of our original
902
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE,
institutions. The new tenure based on favor and
partisan servility had been accepted by not a few
as peculiarly and essentially republican. The
evils they had caused or greatly aggravated were
generally regarded as the inevitable drawbacks
against the blessings of our liberal institutions.
A generation had grown up which accepted the
doctrine of rotation in the executive offices as a
rulé of justice, if not an evidence of liberty. A
great portion of the patriotic and honest voters of
the country had been induced to think that parties
could not prosper (if, indeed, they could live)
without a quadrennial opportunity of using the
public offices as rewards and bribes, and the right,
at all times, of forcing those who fill them to do
the partisan work of politics. They were con-
senting that the government should be plundered
as an enemy by each party that captured it.
These short terms rest on the false and pernicious
theory that the most salutary admonition for good
official conduct, in an executive subordinate, is
not a sense of direct responsibility to his superior,
and a right and duty on the part of that superior
to remove for good cause, but the certainty of go-
ing out at once when his political opponents suc-
ceed, and of going out very soon, in order to
make a place for another, however faithfully he
may serve the people. It hardly need be pointed
out that every time that an efficient and faithful
officer leaves his place at the end of his term, or
is sent away for political reasons, proclamation is
made to the people that the well doing of the
public work is not what the government most
seeks, but effective party workers and compliant
tools of party managers. — It should be noticed
that these four-years term provisions did not ex-
tend to the clerks or other inferior officers in the
great departments at Washington, or to the subor-
dinates of postmasters, of collectors, or of naval
or other officers named in the statutes referred to.
And, applying only to postmasters whose com-
pensation was one thousand dollars a year or more,
and who alone were made confirmable by the
Senate, the quadrennial terms extended to only
about four hundred out of the eight thousand
postmasters—or to one-twentieth of the whole
number—in Jackson's time. Nor have these hum-
bler postmasters, or any of their subordinates, or
any of the subordinates of the internal revenue
Service, or any of the customs service clerks, yet
been subjected to a four-years term. As to them
the theory of the constitution still prevails. Even
Jacksonian politicians dared not make four-years
terms more comprehensive ; only some politicians
of our day propose that. Mr. Kasson, of Iowa,
for example, offered a bill in the house of repre-
sentatives, at the last session, creating a four-years
term for such subordinates. – The collectors nomi-
nate, and the secretary of the treasury approves
the selection of inferior officers in the customs serv-
ice. The secretary removes them. The post-
masters, within the limits of the appropriations,
both employ and dismiss their own subordinates
without any overruling authority being provided
by law. . But when the heads of these:offices and
the prominent postmasters had been given the
same four-years term as that of the president, the
postmaster general, and the secretaries presiding
over departments, and the rotation “spoils sys-
tem” had become well established, the tenure of
all such subordinates, and of the small postmasters
as well, inevitably became almost as precarious, if
their holding of office was not as short as that of
their superiors. If a four-years term and a tenure
conditioned on both the servility of the officer
and the supremacy of his party, were best for the
collector and the postmaster, why were they not.
best for their clerks? If best for the postmaster,
whose compensation was one thousand dollars,
why not best for him whose compensation was.
one hundred dollars, or only ten dollars? All
over the country, from the postoffice doorkeeper
and the custom house scrubbing woman, to the
postmaster general and the secretary of the treas-
ury, that term and tenure, by the force of such
logic and the pressure of party leaders for spoils,
tended to become universal. — When a statute of
congress could be cited to prove the wisdom of
removing a great postmaster to serve the ends of
party in states and cities, how could a postmaster
general resist the demands of the town and village
politicians that the little postmasters should be
selected and dismissed in order to serve the ends
of little factions and cliques? And how could
postmasters refuse to employ and dismiss their
clerks upon a theory any less regardless of the
public interests? It was the inevitable result of
such a system that a servile partisan spirit, an in-
tense, selfish political activity, forever meddling
with the freedom of elections, forever bartering
places for votes, and a consequent demoralizing
neglect of the public business, were everywhere
developed in the postal, not less than in the cus-
toms, service. Jefferson’s prophecy was fulfilled.
For the disastrous consequences which speedily
followed, see SPOILS SYSTEM, I&EMOVALS FIROM.
OFFICE. What sweeping and unprecedented re-
movals for mere partisan reasons speedily followed
the creation of a spoils system term and tenure, is,
well known. The name of Jackson is forever asso-
ciated with merciless proscription and vicious ro-
tation in office. That his system equally tends to
keep the worthier classes from the public service
and to draw into itscheming henchmen, debauched
partisans, and bankrupt speculators, need not be:
pointed out. Why should an honest man of ca-
pacity and self-respect desire for its own sake an
office in which to-morrow he may be the victim.
of a greedy faction of an electioneering secretary,
and at best must reach the end of his term by the
time he has learned his new business and forgot-
ten his old? — Other effects injurious to the ad-
ministration and politics of the country, either
caused or greatly aggravated by these four-years-
term statutes, have become too serious to be passed.
without notice. I refer especially to congressional
patronage and the usurpation of the executive,
power by the senate in connection with confirma-
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
903
tions. When short terms were in theory made a
sort of substitute for the discharge of the execu-
tive duty of removals for cause—when removals
and appointments came to be based on political
influence, and to be held to be a justifiable means
of party aggrandizement—when, by the very lan-
guage of an act of congress, not the welfare of
the public, but “the pleasure of the president,”
and (by analogy) of heads of departments as well
—became the rule of action, what more natural
than that members of congress should first prom-
ise places (in aid of their own election), and next
demand them of the president and secretaries as a
condition of supporting the administration in con-
gress? That many members have stood above
this form of bribery and coercion, and that the
majority have but mildly participated in it, we
may well believe; yet it has become an alarming
evil, the grave perils of which no candid man will
deny. A great proportion of all the appointments
and removals in our public service have become a
part of the perquisites and spoils of congressmen,
and have tended to the degradation of official
manhood, and to corruption and coercion at elec-
tions, in manifold forms. A single appointment
which a congressman could control can be vaguely
promised to and be made to influence a score of
voters. (For the effects of these short terms and
of the tenure of office acts upon the senate, see
CoNFIRMATION BY THE SENATE.) — As the law
now stands, under the tenure of Office acts of 1867
and 1869, no officer nominated, subject to confir-
mation by the senate, of which there are about
thirty-five hundred, can be removed, except with
the consent of the senate. During the recess of
the Senate the president may suspend such an of-
ficer, and the suspension will be effective until
the end of the next session, subject to an agree-
ment between the president and the senate in
the meantime. The significance of this condition
of affairs can not be mistaken. That great ex-
cutive power of removal for good cause—the
public, just, vigorous and uniform exercise of
which is essential to all fidelity, to all economy,
to all efficiency, and to every wholesome sense
of responsibility, alike on the part of the Supe-
rior officer who wields it, and the inferior officer
who is subject to it—is apportioned and en-
feebled. The greater part of it is handed over to
a body acting secretly and through political ma-
jorities, the members of which neither have nor
feel any direct responsibility for the working of
the executive branch of the government. The
president, constitutionally responsible for the faith-
ful execution of the laws, can neither appoint nor
remove any one of nearly thirty-five hundred of
the higher officials through whom those laws are
to be executed, without the consent of the major-
ity, generally the political and perhaps the hostile
majority, of the Senate; if, indeed, he can make
such removal or appointment without the consent
of the senators of the state where an official de-
linquent defies executive authority. The tendency
of such a system is to cause the wishes of Sena-
tors to be potential, and their favor to be courted
in the great departments, custom houses and post-
offices, where their power should only be felt
through independent criticism or stern investiga-
tion, to which their having favorites in office is
almost sure to be fatal. Need it be pointed out
that such a system tends to constant collisions or
corrupt bargains between the executive and the
senate? It teaches the people that partisan work
and interests are the Supreme standards for minis-
terial offices. It makes the Senate as much an ex-
ecutive as a legislative body, its action tending
more and more to impair the counterpoise and sta-
bility of our institutions. From such causes sen-
ators are more than ever before pressed by politi-
cians of every class to make their action upon
nominations and removals serviceable to the local
interests of parties, factions and chieftains, where-
by it has become equally unusual and difficult to
make that action turn upon anything else. The
struggles about the collectorship at New York
and the case of Mr. Conkling are but examples of
this tendency. Here again we see the Sage predic-
tion of Jefferson being fulfilled.— The same causes
which have tended to make senators the partisan
autocrats and patronage purveyors of their states,
have drawn upon them a vast demoralizing Solici-
tation for office. It has often made their elections
scenes of intense strife and lamentable corruption.
It has absorbed the time needed for their public
duties. It has blinded them in clouds of adula-
tion. It has made them unmindful of the higher
sentiments of the people. It has caused the sen-
atorial office itself to sink in public estimation.
It made the late contest in New Hampshire possi-
ble. In estimating the control over state politics
and elections gained by Senators through their
power to appoint and renew collectors and post-
masters, it must be borne in mind that Senatorial
dictation may, and very generally does, extend to
the selection and removal of the subordinates of
those officers; so that senators (as Mr. Clay pre-
dicted in 1835) have very generally become feudal
chiefs in the political affairs of their states. – A
few days after President Grant's first inaugura-
tion, when every plausible excuse for retaining
the tenure of office acts had ceased, the house,
which has no share in confirmations, declared it-
self for the repeal of those tenure of office acts
by a vote of 138 against 16. In his message of
December, 1869, President Grant declared “those
laws inconsistent with a faithful and efficient ad-
ministration of the government.” A few days
after that message, the house again voted their re-
peal by a majority of more than six to One, and
in 1872, without a division, the house a third time
voted their repeal. The senate was persistent for
its courtesy and its usurped power. A majority
of its members uphold them still, relentlessly ex-
ercising the authority they confer. In this policy
Mr. Conkling was a leader, and fell under the re-
buke of his own state. — Such is the situation in
large measure caused, and in every particular ag-
gravated, by short fixed terms and a precarious
904
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
partisan tenure. The period is not remote when,
if these laws shall continue in force, the whole
time of the senate will not be sufficient for con-
firming postmasters alone. We must consider the
small proportion of the inferior officers to whom
a four-years term has yet been extended, if we
would comprehend the consequences of making
that term universal. Of the about 3,500 now
subject to it, about thirty-five are in the treasury
department at Washington, more than one hun-
dred are collectors, and about nineteen hundred
are postmasters. The proposal to make that term
general, according to the Kasson bill, is nothing
less than this: that each one of the more than
75,000 other inferior officers shall either go out at
the end of four years, or be kept in through as
many successful contests of influence and favorit-
ism. Does any candid man believe our institu-
tions could stand such a strain? It is true that
the example of a four-years term and a tenure by
favor on the part of the most prominent of such
officers here caused a great portion of those in the
grades below them to be frequently changed.
Yet it is a significant fact, standing in strong con-
demnation of a four-years term, that, despite such
examples, the average periods of service in the
lower offices, of late, at least, have been two or three
times four years, and have been the longest where
administration has been best and politics least par-
tisan and corrupt. The average time of service
of the more than 42,000 postmasters, whose term
is not fixed by law, has probably been about ten .
years, at least, if we exclude postoffices established
within that period; and that of the subordinates
in the New York city postoffice, where Mr. James
and his successor have enforced the competitive
examinations with such admirable results, is un-
questionably longer. It is believed that the aver-
age period of service of the inferior officers of the
treasury department (and certainly of the state
department) at Washington, is longer still. — We
have only to look at the facts to see how disastrous
would be the consequences of a four-years term
in the great departments and offices. It would
require about seven hundred changes, or success-
ful contests for reappointment each year in the
treasury department (more than at the rate of two
every secular day); changes as frequent as the
most barbarous partisan proscription has ever ac-
complished. A new appointment or a successful
contest for a reappointment at the New York cus-
tom house every day of the year would be quite
inadequate under such terms. If all postmasters
were given a term of four years, there would be
over ten thousand and five hundred changes or
contests every year, or about thirty every day, to
be dealt with; to which must be added one-fourth
of all the subordinates in all the postoffices in the
United States, and also all cases of resignation and
removal for cause. If it be conceivable that an in-
telligent people can ever enter upon such changes,
it is plain that there must be an additional post-
master general and secretaries with no other duty
than that of working a vast machinery of rotation
and partisan warfare. Consider the effect of a four
years' term upon the postoffice at New York. It
would require between four and five times as many
changes each year as have been annually made in
the period during which its administration has
been so greatly improved. Two new selections or
reappointments every three days would not fill the
places which such a term would vacate at that
office. It is obvious that nearly or quite the whole
time of a postmaster would be required to attend
to them. — I have no space for tracing the effects
of this short-term system in the offices of states or
municipalities. It has contributed greatly to the
perpetual and mischievous activity of parties and
factions. Officers in cities and villages, whose du-
ties have no legitimate relations with party pol-
itics, have been given short terms either in reckless
thoughtlessness, or (apparently at least) for the
mere purpose of creating annual or biennial prizes
to be won in the low scramble of factions and
bosses. It is not too much to say that at least the
greater part of the political corruption of cities
and of the fatiguing labors imposed on good cit-
izens by reason of rotation in municipal offices
would be superseded if the official tenure there
was made what the public interests require. What
can be more disastrous than the existing practice
of giving the shortest of terms to heads of bureaus
and the making of the tenure of them subordinate,
dependent upon the triumph of a party, if not of a
faction, or a demagogue, with whom that head is
affiliated?—The salutary tenure for inferior execu-
tive officers, sanctioned by the constitution and
enforced by all the presidents before Jackson, has
also been approved by the last two presidents.
“Let it once be fully understood that continuance
in office depends solely upon the faithful and
efficient discharge of duties, and that no man will
be removed to make place for another, and the re-
form will be half accomplished,” are words of the
late president. (President Garfield's speech at Ath-
ens, Ohio, 1879.) In a letter to Secretary Sherman,
dated Nov. 23, 1877, President (then collector) Ar-
thur says: “Permanence in office, which of course
prevents removal except for cause, and promotion
based upon good conduct and efficiency, are essen-
tial elements of correct civil service.” In his letter
of acceptance as vice-president, he said: “The
tenure of office should be stable. Positions of re-
sponsibility should, so far as practicable, be filled
by the promotion of worthy and efficient officers,”
judgments which his messages have reaffirmed.
These views imply that the right and duty of re-
moval for good cause should remain unimpaired.
They lend no sanction to a life tenure of office,
which is quite inadmissible, or to any other tenure
which does not make the common interest para-
mount to that of any office-holder, administration
or party. One of the great objections to a short
term is that it is treated as a sort of substitute for
the discharge of the duty of removing the untrust-
worthy and the incompetent, whereby the moral
tone, the discipline and the efficiency of the pub-
lic service are alike degraded. The decisive ques-
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
905
tion as to an “inferior officer” remaining longer
in the service should always be, not, Has he been in
his place four years or any other number of years?
but, Is he a good officer, who, if retained longer,
will serve the people most usefully? — So far from
life tenure, or a permanent tenure in the absolute
sense, even being admissible, removals should be
made for at least the following causes: 1, convic-
tion of an infamous crime or one involving fraud
or corruption; 2, facts showing that such crime
has been committed; 3, the use of official authority
or influence to coerce the freedom of citizens; 4,
mental or physical incapacity for official work; 5,
intemperance; 6; gross immorality or vices; 7,
habitual inefficiency; 8, willful neglect of duty; 9,
intentional disobedience to lawful instructions; 10,
renunciation of allegiance; 11, acts of treachery or
bad faith toward the United States. – There are yet.
other grave objections to these short terms. They
were provided for a few of the higher offices, on
the theory that alonger holding of executive places
was a monopoly, and that a quadrennial rotation
was republican justice, and essential to the healthy
life of parties. The demand that the same term
be extended throughout the service is in the spirit
of its original creation. The fact that those hold-
ing under four-years terms have, as we have seen,
retained their places for much shorter periods
than those not subjected to such terms, proves
that such terms cause the rotation which their
champions favor. By reason of the simple facts
that such terms are demanded, in the name of
rotation and of the communistic theory that every
man has an equal right to office, they make a sort
of legislative proclamation of such doctrines.
They apply alike to worthy and unworthy offi-
cials, and hence tell the people that every officer,
no matter how pure and useful, should, on the
ground of justice to those seeking office, leave
his place at the end of four years. He is, in the
spirit of such a law, if he stays longer, an odious
monopolist, holding by favor what belongs to an-
other. A law fixing a four-years term plainly says
to the people that a ministerial officer should not
bold his place either so long as he remains upright
and efficient, or so long as his superior officer re-
gards him as more useful to the public than an
inexperienced man would be. It tells them, that,
for reasons paramount to all such considerations,
his service should end absolutely with the four
years. These reasons—however partisan, com-
munistic, or corrupt, as illustrated in practice—
are, by the legislative, made imperative upon the
executive. They are undeclared by the law, and
are left to mere inferences to be drawn from prac-
tice. They are reasons, at once vague and myste-
rious, which plainly and equally disregard personal
merit in the inferior officer displaced and the re-
sponsibility of his superior for good administration
in his own department. These terms are an inva-
sion by the legislative upon the executive. They
suggest that the executive officer can not be trusted
to decide how long the services of a subordinate
are useful to the public—a power and duty which,
under the constitution, plainly belong to the ex-
ecutive. Such considerations will prevent short
terms ever being regarded as legislation in the in-
terest of efficient or economical administration.
They will be regarded as the enforcement of a
pretended system of justice in office holding—as
an approval of increased patronage for parties, of
diminished power in the executive over its own
subordinates, of encroachment on the part of con-
gress beyond the sphere of its responsibility, of
more absolute dependence upon mere favor on the
part of subordinates. Short terms are, in princi-
ple, a sort of invitation, even to the executive
himself, to remove for reasons other than the good
of the public service; for those terms are in sub-
stance a removal, every four years, of every person
in the public service, not for any good or even any
avowed cause, but utterly irrespective of the merits
of those removed. They emphatically teach Ser-
vility, by saying to every subordinate : “Your
sole chance of holding beyond the four years de-
pends on executive favor or partisan and congres-
sional influence exerted for your reappointment.
A peaceful holding is not to be a consequence of
well doing. Look to favor and influence. Under
the laws of your country, or by reason of any
merit or usefulness they pretend to respect, you
have no claim to stay an hour beyond the quad-
rennial period.” Mr. Webster, in 1835, in urging
the repeal of the four years term of 1820, covered
the ground in these words: “The law itself va-
cates the office, and gives the means of rewarding
a friend without the exercise of the power of re-
moval at all.” If official merit, in the estimation
of the appointing power, is a good reason for con-
tinuing longer in office, why bring the holding to
an end by a fixed term? The end of the term but
refers that same question to the identical authority
which would, except for the term, have decided
it. If unworthy to decide when to remove for
cause, is not the superior officer unworthy to de-
cide when to reappoint for merit? — But the mis-
chief of the four-years term law does not stop
there. Every reason which can be urged in favor
of a four-years term, can also be urged by party
managers and scheming officials against reappoint-
ments at the end of those terms. For, how is ro-
tation to be secured, how is each man any more
certain to get his fair share of office under short
terms, if all the good officers who ought not to
have been removed are to be reappointed at the
end of their terms? If there are not to be more
changes under a four-years term than without it,
if inexperience is not to be increased, and skilled
servants whom the public has educated are not to
be driven out, then what is the gain of the short-
term law, upon the theory of its advocates? It
would not cause rotation. It would give Office to
no more office seekers. Every patronage monger,
every caucus manipulator, every shiftless office
seeker of the land, every aspiring demagogue long-
ing for more offices to pledge for votes, every un-
scrupulous chieftain seeking more callow officials
to tax and more places to give as bribes, every in-
906
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
tense partisan believing that spoils are the strength
of parties, and that rotation in office is a vital
principle of republics, is not only in favor of a four-
years term, but will insist on true Jacksonian pro-
scription during that term. Can any argument be
necessary to make it clear that every concession to
such theories but intensifies and embitters the com-
munistic, partisan and proscriptive spirit which
they embody? If a four-years term should be
provided in order to make more places for office
seekers, then why, upon the same theory, should
not terms be reduced to two years, or to one year?
When, as of late, the ante-rooms at Washington
are crowded with office seekers, and the tables of
the secretaries are loaded with office-begging let-
ters, why should clerks be allowed to monopolize
their places for four long years, while these appli-
cants are pleading for their share of the offices?
The same reasons are just as good for bringing
down the term even to two months, as we have
seen was the fact in the Florentine and other Ital-
ian republics. We must reject rotation as a prin-
ciple, or carry it to its legitimate results. If the
best ability and character for serving the people,
and the best and most economical administrators,
be not the standard and the end recognized by
law, then we can nowhere set them up against the
claims of the communistic office seeker and clam-
orous patronage monger. — The proportion of fed-
eral officials to the population ranges from one in
twenty-four in the District of Columbia, to one in
540 in Vermont, and one in 1,500 in Georgia. The
average seems to be about one official to every 600
of the population, or one official to every 150 males
and females with some competency for official du-
ties. The greater number of postoffices in the
northern states gives the larger ratio of federal of-
fices there. That, as a rule, from five to fifty per-
sons make a contest or claim for nearly every
vacancy, is well known. Will this demoralizing
office seeking be less, will the feverish and selfish
activity of parties and factions which it stimulates
and feeds be diminished, by giving a four-years
term to 80,000 additional offices on the demand of
politicians and office seekers who declare that every
man has an equal right to office, and that a quad-
rennial rotation is but yielding to this right? Hav-
ing, by proclaiming rotation to be a principle of
republican justice, provided a place for one office
seeker in fifty, shall we then be more or less able
than before to resist the communistic demand of
the other forty-nine office seekers? Will it tend to
dissuade them from demanding removals without
cause, or to make them better satisfied that sena-
tors hold for six years, and judges during good
behavior? — It hardly need be pointed out, that
terms fixed by law would advertise to parties, to
every office seeker, and to the feudal lords of pat-
romage, the precise dates of every vacancy. He
must know little of office seeking, or of partisan
methods for controlling appointments, who does
not see that every approaching vacancy would be
the subject of deliberate and mischievous bargains
and combinations of influence for filling it. The
appointing power would be solicited for pledges,
men of prominence would be pressed for recom-
mendations, party leaders would be besieged for
influence, every corrupt element and every permi-
cious activity of politics would be intensified be-
yond anything yet known. For, So long as a
removal at an indefinite time must precede an
appointment, there is a great uncertainty as to
whether any vacancy will exist, and a concentrated
effort by patronage mongers at a decisive moment
is generally impracticable. The appointing power
has some chance of self-protection. An inevitable
vacancy for all places at a time known months or
years before, would change all this. The poten-
tates of patronage would wrangle over, bargain
for and apportion every vacancy months before it
happened. —It is not of course a certainty, if a.
short term shall ever be established for executive
subordinates, that it will be a term of four years,
though that is the partisan’s favorite period. It
may be a term of six or more years. A six-years.
term would have the advantage of keeping a con-
siderable portion of the changes it would cause
out of the period of the presidential election. But
with that exception, every other objection urged
against short terms would, in large measure, hold
against a term of six years. There are obvious
reasons why a six-years term would be preferable
to one of four years, as there are why a term of
ten or more years would be preferable to one of
six years. And competent persons would doubt-
less be more likely to take an official place and to
serve for a moderate compensation under a tenure
of six years, than under one of four, for much the
same reasons that they would still more incline to
the public service for a moderate salary under a
tenure having regard to merit, which would appeal
both to their ambition and to their sense of safety.
A four-years or a six-years term for a young man
takes him from business experience at an impor-
tant period of his life. It puts the man of family
to expense in adjusting himself to his position. It
offers to either only a dreary, admonishing uncer-
tainty, little inviting to a person of prudence or
capacity. When, after coming into the service at
twenty or thirty years of age, a four-years train-
ing by the government as an accountant, an ap-
praiser, a mail distributer, an officer at the mint,
the assay office, or the treasury, has made the offi-
cial skillful, well-informed, and valuable as a pub-
lic servant, it is certainly desirable that he should
remain at least two years longer; but would it not
be yet more desirable that he should stay So long
as he is the most useful man for the place? What
good reason can be given for sending away a Val-
uable official at twenty-six or thirty-six, on merely
showing that he has served six years? Is it not
plain, that, if the tenure and usage should say to
him, “So long as you do your duty promptly and
well, and maintain a good character, your means
of living will not be taken away, nor your place
given to another without good cause,” he would be
stimulated to fidelity in a degree unknown to him
who can hold his place only time enough to learn.
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
907
its duties and to look out for another? The gov-
ernment will never be most economically served,
nor gain the best to serve it, while its officials are
selected or treated as needy birds-of-passage, in
mercy supported to-day, but told to find a place
elsewhere to-morrow. Who will deny that any in-
telligent man will engage for a less salary and be
more careful to do his work well, if he feels that
fidelity and efficiency will protect him against be-
ing discharged without cause?—It may be insisted
that the service would not, as a matter of course,
end with the six years, but only terminate in case
the incumbent should be held unworthy of reap-
pointment. This theory plausibly presents a short
term as a kind of substitute for removals. It con-
templates, that, at the end of the service of every
one of the more than 14,000 executive officers
whose period would expire within each year under
a six-years term, there would be a special inquest
as to the official conduct of each, and a just judg-
ment rendered. We need not dwell on the magni-
tüde of such an undertaking, which makes it chi-
merical. If the facts which this theory assumes
be true, viz., that during the previous six years
the official superiors have been ignorant of the
merits of their subordinates, such neglect would
prove them unworthy to decide as to reappoint-
ments. If these merits and demerits have been
known, year by year, no special inquiry will
be needed. The unworthy will have been, or
should have been, removed. Whose duty would
it be, in any event, to conduct that inquiry
and decide upon reappointments, except that
of the identical superior officers whose yearly
and daily duty it now is to keep themselves in
that regard fully informed, and to make re-
movals day by day whenever good cause ex-
ists 2 Since that obligation can not be increased,
the change, if any, contemplated in official Su-
pervision under short terms, would seem to be
one that would excuse its performance until the
end of the term. Insufficiency, insubordination,
neglect of duty for party work, and conduct—
not absolutely infamous or criminal, perhaps—
are to be overlooked during the term, because at
its end there is to be a grand inquest. In other
words, the moral and legal obligations of officials
in the higher places, and the experience and dis-
cipline essential on the part of those in the lower
places, are both alike to be reduced to short meas-
ure, as a part of the benefits of short terms.
That this would please the office seekers, patron-
age mongers and partisans most clamorous for
such terms, we need not doubt. On any other
theory, or any just or defensible theory as to re-
movals, it is plain that the unworthy would all
be removed before the end of the six years, and
that all those left at its expiration—whose terms
would end—would be precisely those who would
deserve a reappointment; which of course shows
the term to be unavailing for any useful purpose.
If, therefore, the officials having a duty of re-
moval are to be trusted, the six-years or other
short term is needless, and if they are not to be
trusted to make removals when they should be
made, how can they be trusted to make reappoint-
ments at the end of the terms? Would they be
improved for the duty of reappointment by a
statute which would suggest that until the end of
terms they should wink at the delinquencies of
their subordinates? The better remedy than any
short term would be to enforce far more sternly,
and, if need be, by the aid of stringent legisla-
tion, the duty, declared by Madison, and implied
in the constitution, to remove for adequate cause,
and not to remove without it; and by fit reform
methods (which can not be explained here), to
take away the pressure, the threats and the cor-
rupt persuasions which now make the proper dis-
charge of that duty so rare and difficult. Under
such a system the unworthy would be warned off
as well as weeded out from the public service. —
But let us not forget, that with fixed terms, either
for six or ten years, it would be far more difficult
to reappoint valuable servants than it would have
been to retain them longer if no statute had taught
the office seekers and spoilsmen the doctrine of
rotation and removals without cause. It is un-
questionably true, on the other hand, that an
officer too cowardly to discharge his duty, to re-
move during a term, may more easily get excused
by reason of a removal made by act of congress;
and, so far as that kind of relief, which first en-
courages official neglect and then causes it to be
forgotten, is an advantage, it must certainly be
set to the credit of short fixed terms. With the
duty of making removals for cause—which would
of course embrace inefficiency by reason of age
or any other cause—fitly discharged, we should
hear little either of a life tenure, which is utterly
indefensible, or of a tenure during good behavior
merely, which is inadmissible. An inefficient
official may exhibit only good behavior in the
legal sense. Good behavior and efficiency com-
bined, are the true basis of tenure for administra-
tive officers. Who but the spoilsman, the parti-
san and the rotationist in theory—who but those
who deny pure, economical and vigorous adminis-
tration to be the supreme ends—will object to re-
taining a ministerial officer as long as he is the
most useful man for the public service?—There
are doubtless some who think—and, within very
narrow limits, perhaps not wholly without reason
—that short terms would impress upon the Offi-
cials a new sense of responsibility in addition to
that felt toward official superiors, a responsibility
to public opinion. But to what kind of public
opinion? The fact that the managers of Small
local administrations, open to the view of every
one, in towns and villages, and that officers elect-
ed by the people, feel a wholesome responsibility
to public opinion, is a natural source of delusion
on the subject. If that sense of responsibility is
reliable in the great officers, it would be a good
reason why the 80,000 inferior federal officers
should be elected rather than appointed—why,
in short, the whole theory of the constitution
should be abandoned. The greater parts of Our
908
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
system would be indefensible. It is because such
a theory is illusory; that, under our system, and
under that of every civilized state, such officials
are appointed and are governed by superior offi-
cers. The popular judgment can rarely decide,
with intelligence, how far bad administration, in
a great office, is due to the superior officer, or how
far to his subordinates, who must obey the in-
structions. And for that reason all good govern-
ments have put the responsibility and duty of re-
moval upon the superior—the president, the gov-
ernor, and the mayor, whom the people elect, or
upon the heads of departments, and hold them
responsible for their subordinates. Every at-
tempt by the legislature, through short terms, to
substitute for the true responsibility to the execu-
tive and for the duty of removal, a new kind of
responsibility, is therefore not only a legislative
usurpation of executive functions, but is an effort
not only repugnant to our constitution, but de-
moralizing in its tendency. The shorter the term
of executive offices, the more difficult and unre-
liable would be the popular judgment. Make the
term a year or a month, and will any candid man
say that a popular judgment upon the official con-
duct of him who fills it could exist? What do
the people know of the relative merits of any one
of the thousands or hundreds of Šubordinates in
a department? The worst administrations of later
years—the corruption, partisan proscription, neg-
lect of official duty in order to coerce elections,
political assessments, the degradation of the pub-
lic servants into the henchmen of chieftains and
senators, the bartering of places for votes—have
not been originated or most practiced by the more
subordinate officials to whom a fixed term has
never been extended, but have grown up and be-
come most intolerable around the great custom
houses and postoffices, at the head of which are
officers holding for four years, confirmed by the
Senate and beyond removal, except by the consent
of that body. If the many thousands of post-
masters whose compensation is between five hun-
dred and one thousand dollars a year, were given
a term of four or six years, and were made con-
firmable by the Senate, like the postmasters hav-
ing a higher salary, I must think that not superior
postmasters, but more active politicians, would be
secured, and that new elements of vicious and
feverish activity would be added to our municipal
politics in every quarter of the Union. It would
be no better, if postmasters were added to the ex-
cessive numbers of candidates in our municipal
elections. The fate of every clerk and carrier
would be involved in the election. Concerning
most of these new confirmations, at best, there
would be the same vigorous working of party
machinery, and the same mischievous combina-
tion of selfish influences which now distract com-
munities and vex congressmen in connection with
the quadrennial appointment of collectors and
postmasters of the higher grade. Few things are
clearer in our politics than the fact that a large
share of such confirmations are determined by
mere official favor or partisan interests. Rare in-
deed is it that the administrative capacity of the
candidate is made a decisive or even a prominent
issue. The case of Postmaster James, of New
York, is the first instance in our history of the
office of postmaster general being conferred by
reason of the administrative capacity of the per-
son appointed. — There are doubtless some who
favor a term of years only by reason of an as-
sumed difficulty in bringing about removals. That
difficulty grows out of the spoils-system method
of making appointments. The same pressure on
the part of great politicians and members of con-
gress which crowds the service with their un-
worthy favorites, keeps them there. The threats
and pleadings which foist a brawny henchman, a
bankrupt cousin, or a favorite widow, upon the
national pay rolls, are repeated when the at-
tempt is made to remove them. The competi-
tive examinations now placed at the gates of the
public service will not only exclude the unworthy,
but they will bring in those who would have
nothing but their superior merit to keep them
there, and removals for cause will be easy. They
have no influence to back them. And should any
superior officer decline to remove for cause, he
can be impeached, as Madison advised; for, when
members of congress and chieftains can no longer
put their favorites and relatives into the depart-
ments, they will no longer, as now, have an inter-
est to prevent the arraignment of extravagance
and imbecility in the executive service. British
experience has confirmed the plain suggestions of
reason on those points. –It has been suggested,
that, since competitive examinations are very of-
fensive to the partisans and spoilsmen whose pat-
romage they suppress, the need of them in a meas-
ure might be superseded by short terms of office.
The suggestion is not even plausible. The short-
er the term, the greater the need of ability and
business experience upon entering the service;
and the greater, also, the need of thorough com-
petitive examinations for selecting the most com-
petent. If the period of service be long, even
those incompetent at the start may be trained into
usefulness at the public expense. But if the term
be too short for such education, large capacity
must be required at the start. Make the term
only a month, and the public work would be ar-
rested, unless the standard for admission should
be greatly raised. While, therefore, competitive
examinations could be made to mitigate some of
the evils of short terms, such terms would make
competitive examinations indispensable. — It is
important to see clearly that the time when a per-
son should leave the public service does not de-
pend upon the manner of getting into it, but upon
his usefulness therein, however he got there.
Whether he got in by favor, pressure, or competi-
tive examination, the question of his proper term
or tenure is the same. Such examinations, and,
indeed, nearly all the practical methods of civil
service reform, except the demand for the repeal
of the short term acts, relate to the means of get-
TERM AND TENURE OF OFFICE.
909
ting into the service, and to the abuses therewith
connected. It is only the specious, unwarranted
allegations of the spoilsmen, which declare a de-
pendence of those methods upon a life tenure or
long term of office. There is no such dependence.
A great portion of the removals without cause
are, however, made in order to create vacancies
into which dependents or henchmen may be
pushed. And, since, under competitive examina-
tions, the place would be filled by whoever could
prove himself the better man, this pushing would
avail little or nothing, and for that reason unwar-
ranted removals would rarely take place, as the
experience of such examinations at the New York
custom house and postoffice has clearly shown.
While, therefore, such examinations would tend
to make a tenure more stable by making power-
less the corrupt forces which cause proscriptive
removals, I repeat, that the need of applying
these methods would increase with every reduc-
tion of the term of office and every enfeeble-
ment of tenure. It is an utter misconception
of the subject to claim that a permanent ten-
ure of office is an incident of competitive ex-
aminations, or any further a consequence of
them than this, that, securing the better man,
they make it more easy and natural to keep
such men as long as the public needs or desires
them. — But, suppose short-term theories should
now prevail; what would be the result in the near
future ? Population doubles in about thirty-five
years, and officers increase yet more rapidly.
Men now vote who may live to see more than
200,000,000 of people in the Union, and more
than 400,000 federal officials. – Within little more
than a decade, the life Saving and signal service,
the national board of health, the agricultural bu-
reau, the bureau of education and the civil serv-
ice commission have been added to the public
Service, and Some of them may soon be depart-
ments. When there shall be 200,000 postmasters
and 500,000 federal officers, there will still be but
One president, but one senate, but one secretary
of the treasury, but one postmaster general, unless
we create others to fight off the office seekers and
work a vast machinery of office filling. Shall we
deliberately create an official term which will re-
quire the refilling of nearly 100,000 of these places
every year, in addition to all those that may be
made vacant by removals and resignations ?
Washington could not contain the office seekers
and their backers who would swarm there. Could
republican institutions long survive 2 — Another
consideration connected with short terms must not
be overlooked. They would greatly embarrass,
if not defeat, any adequate system for promotion
based on merit or experience. Four successive
presidents, all the best administrators in the coun-
try, and every well-governed nation of the world,
have insisted on promotions for merit, tested by
experience, as essential to good administration.
When, in his late message, President Arthur de-
clared that “positions of responsibility should be,
So far as practicable, filled by the promotion of
worthy and efficient officers,” he affirmed a prin-
ciple to which short terms are utterly repugnant,
and the wisdom of which the best experience of
the world affirms. These terms are an arbitrary
interference by the legislative with the executive
department, by reason of which, at a fixed time,
and irrespective alike of the needs of the public
service, of the merits of those who fill it, and of
the wishes of those responsible for good adminis-
tration, the good and the bad alike cease to serve
the people. Every worthy officer is sent away—
in substance, removed—without cause. Promo-
tion for merit, on the other hand, is based on the
theory that an officer is more valuable for his
experience, and should, if otherwise worthy, be
retained for that reason. Now, it is quite too
preposterous for argument to pretend that such
experience can be secured in the complicated af-
fairs of government, if there is to be a quadren-
nial rotation. The very theory upon which such
rotation is founded is but a declaration that the
paramount aim of the government is not the most
competent officers, is not to stimulate effort, and
retain the skilled ability it has educated, but to
give places to the greatest number of patronage
mongers, and salaries to the greatest number of
office seekers.- But it may be asked whether some
evils may not attend constitutional tenure for
“inferior officers”—a tenure during the coexist-
ence of good behavior and efficiency—and whether
some provision may not be wisely made for those
who might leave the service poor and superannu-
ated. We can not speak positively of the future.
When evils from such a source shall be developed,
then will be the time to meet them. At present,
surely, there is not too much trained experience
in the public service. It may be that the aptitude
and inclination of our people for change of call-
ing, and the facilities for saving and for securing
employment in this country, will for many years
prevent the need of legislation on such subjects,
which in the old and densely populated countries,
we know has existed. There will be ample time
for action on such subjects years hence. It is not
easy to understand an abuse which does not exist,
or customary to legislate against evils which are
only imagined. The first duty is to provide for
bringing the most competent into the public serv-
ice, and for suppressing patronage and the arbi-
trary removal of competent public servants. We
do not refuse to cure the sick or arrest contagion,
from a fear that the future may have an excess of
population. Our business men have not, as a
rule—though with increasing exceptions said to
be advantageous to employés—yet made provis-
ions for those worn out by faithful labor in their
employment; and whether the federal government
can wisely be more paternal and humane is a ques-
tion properly left to the future. Much may be said
on both sides of it. Our pensions in principle,
and our retiring allowance in the army and navy,
and for federal judges, directly affirm the justice
and utility of making provision for faithful offi-
cers worn out in the public service. After putting
910
TERRITORIAL WATERS.
out the flames and purifying the air of the national
household, we can take ample time for improving
its attractions. The older governments, generally,
and Great Britain with marked success, have
made such provisions. The British statutes,
which give a retiring allowance only after ten
years' faithful service, are by no means based on
a theory of mere benevolence. They are justified
not only as enabling the government to secure
its servants at a smaller salary, but as contributing
to their efficiency and fidelity in office; in fact, as
being, on the mere score of economy and selfish-
ness, a manifest gain to the public treasury. The
salary and the allowance are thought to be hardly
more than the salary would need to be, on the
average or in the aggregate, but for the allowance
upon retirement. This experience, extending over
three-fourths of a century, is well worthy of our
study whether we ever have occasion to make
similar allowance or not. It will show us a royal
and aristocratic government regarding the self-
respect and comfort of those who, in humble
places, serve it faithfully, with a care, dignity and
regard for economy which are not quite universal
in this great republic. —If it be suggested that
such allowances befit the paternal care of a mon-
archy, but not the stern justice of a republic, let
it be remembered that every subordinate in the
British service who can receive them is by statute
compelled to gain his place through superior
merit disclosed in a stern, open, competitive exam-
ination, where neither blood, wealth nor influence
avail anything; while it is only in this republic
that a great officer or politician can privately force
his blockhead son, his discharged housekeeper,
his servile electioneering agent, or his bankrupt
dependent, upon the public service. — Whenever
the time may come, there are various ways of
dealing with the subject: 1, we may fix an age
beyond which “inferior officers” shall not remain
in the Service, thus sternly excluding dotage; 2,
we may fix an age after which the salary shall
rapidly decrease, which would prevent full pay-
ment for impaired capacity, as well as cause
Seasonable resignations; 3, we may pay a small
fixed sum on retirement, after a prescribed peri-
od of meritorious service and before reaching a
fixed age ; 4, we may, on retirement any time
after ten years of such service, continue to pay a
certain proportion of the salary receivable at the
date of retirement, which is the British system;
5, we may, after the official has reached a certain
age or period of service, retain a percentage of
his Salary, to be paid on retirement, which will
cost the government nothing and yet be a provision
against want; 6, we may refuse to make any pro-
vision whatever on the subject, dealing with the
public servants according to the severest theories
of hostile interest and business relations; or, 7,
if we shall find the executive or heads of depart-
ments refusing to remove in proper cases (after
the repeal of the tenure of office acts and relief
from party and congressional influence shall have
restored to them a real liberty to do so), or if any
bad effects shall attend the restoration of tenure
based on character and efficiency, it will be easy,
if desirable, to establish a term of years, the
length of which should be determined in the light
of such experience, and not upon the “spoils
system” theories which now prevail. Then if
competitive examinations shall have been con-
tinuously enforced, there may be neither par-
tisan interest nor prejudice enough left to em-
bolden demagogues to seek popularity by de-
nouncing as an “official class” those who, from
whatever grade of life, have worked their way
solely by superior merit, and who can hold
their places only so long as they continue both
upright and efficient. How can that be a class,
into which no one can be born, which can be
reached only by open competition of merit,
through which nothing can be taken or trans-
mitted, and in which no one can remain longer
than he is freely retained because he is the best ser-
vant of the people 2 — We need, and, before the
time for action shall arrive, we may expect, a more
intelligent public opinion on the subject of office
getting and office holding. Of what use to ask a
legislator who believes in rotation, who holds a
tenure of merit to be “un-American,” who has
promised ten clerkships to carry his last election,
and demands a consulate and a postoffice to carry
his next election—to consider the subject on the
basis of the public interest ? When we better
comprehend that the real strength of parties is
adherence to Sound principles and the enforcement
of good administration; when we are prepared to
make capacity and character, and not influence
and favoritism, the tests for admission to the pub-
lic service; when the states as well as the nation
shall have shown courage to suppress political
assessment and the official coercion of elections;
when we become convinced that promising places
for votes is the worst form of bribery, and that
the “spoils system” is as demoralizing to a party
as it is disastrous and disgraceful to the country—
then we shall see that to refuse to retain a public
servant because he is faithful and efficient, is to
refuse to protect the public welfare. Then, and
possibly not till then, we shall be prepared to
deal with our retiring public servants upon the
grounds of justice and Sound principles. Then
we shall be able to give due consideration to wat
contributes to the honor, efficiency and economy
of the public service, to what makes it attractive
to a prudent man with a family dependent upon
his salary, to what will give it a high place in
public estimation, to what will invite to it young
men of promise by assuring them that merit will be
the condition, alike of stability and of promotion.
DORMAN B. EATON.
TERRITORIAL WATERS are all Waters
within the jurisdictional limits set by internation-
al law to an independent state. Such waters*
comprise : 1, inclosed waters, which are, first,
* Different writers use the terms jurisdictional waters,
water territory, maritime territory.
TERRITORIAL WATERS.
911
rivers, lakes and other inland waters wholly with-
in the boundaries of a state ; second, if the bound-
aries of a state are rivers or lakes or other inland
Waters, unless one of the riparian states has a
good title to the whole bed of the same, bound-
ing non-navigable rivers to the middle of such
streams, bounding navigable rivers to the middle
of their deepest channel, and bounding lakes and
other inland waters to the middle of the same ;
and third, ports, bays, straits, sounds or arms of
the Sea within (intra fauces) headlands belonging
to the same state not more than two marine
leagues apart ; 2, uninclosed waters, or the open
sea to the distance of one marine league outward
from the line of low-water mark; and, when bays,
straits, sounds or arms of the sea are inclosed by
Iheadlands belonging to the same state not more
, than two marine leagues apart, the open sea to a
distance of one marine league outward from a line
drawn between the two headlands. – The law re-
lating to inclosed waters is well settled. The state
inclosing them within its naturally extended terri-
tory has a right of ownership, as well as a right
of jurisdiction, over them ; and in order that the
passageways of commerce and navigation may be
subject to public authority and control, the title
to the land under water, and to the shore below
Ordinary high-water mark, in navigable rivers and
lakes (in England, and in states which have
adopted the form rather than the substance of the
English rule, tide waters) and in ports, harbors,
bays, straits, sounds or arms of the sea inclosed as
above described, is vested in the state for the
public use and benefit. Although a state is enti-
tled to exclusive jurisdiction both civil and crim-
inal, over its inclosed waters, usage gives a con-
current criminal jurisdiction over offenses com-
mitted on foreign vessels in such waters to the
states to which such vessels belong, and the state
entitled to exclusive criminal jurisdiction will not
exercise it in such cases, the parties being exclu-
sively foreign, unless its authority is invoked, or
unless the peace of the country is disturbed. —
The law relating to uninclosed waters is not
thoroughly settled. It is the historical result of
the assertion by different states at different times
of conflicting claims of ownership or jurisdiction
over the same or different parts of the open sea.
It is a compromise by which all states have prac-
tically abandoned the claim of ownership over any
part of the open sea, upon the express or tacit as-
sent of all the states that each state is allowed an
artificial extension of its territory over the open
sea adjacent to its coast, to such a distance as is
necessary for its defense and security. — When
modern international law had its rise, few parts of
the sea were free from the claims of some Euro-
pean state. England asserted a right of owner-
ship over the sea surrounding Great Britain as far
as the coasts of neighboring countries; Spain de-
clared its exclusive right to navigate the gulf of
Mexico and the Pacific ocean ; Portugal sought to
bar the rest of the world from the gulf of Guinea
and the Indian ocean; Venice claimed the Adriat-
ic, Genoa the Ligurian, and Denmark the North
Seas. Sailing without license upon some of these
waters was prohibited under penalty of death, and
forfeiture of all the offender's goods. Whether
Originating in capricious assertions of brute force
or in substantial Services done in policing these
Seas, many of which were then infested by pirates,
Some of these claims were so far admitted, that a
right of control became established and was recog-
nized by the payment of toll, the furling of flags
and other Sahutes, from which even kings were
not exempt. —From this right of control, as “a
dissociation of the ideas of control and property
was not then intelligible, the step to the assertion
of complete rights of property was almost inevit-
able.” During the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries assertions of proprietary rights based
upon prescription, or discovery, or police services,
or papal grant, over the open sea, were general,
and were maintained with varying success. The
physical impossibility of obtaining and keeping
exclusive possession of any part of the open sea,
the growth of commerce and the consequent rec-
ognition of the necessity of the free navigation
of the ocean, led to a contest between the advocates
of mare clausum and those of maré liberum, which
was begun in 1609 by Grotius, and which was
ended in 1824-5 by the complete abandonment of
the last of these “vain and extravagant preten-
sions”—the claim of Russia to the Pacific Ocean
north of fifty-one degrees north latitude. It is
now universally admitted that the open or high
seas—the ocean and all connecting arms and bays
or other extensions thereof not within the territo-
rial limits of any nation—are not the subject either
of property or of exclusive jurisdiction, and that
the right to navigate these seas is common to all
nations and their members, and can be abridged
or renounced only by actual consent, — The first
germs of the modern doctrine of uninclosed ter-
ritorial waters are discoverable in a proclama-
tion of James I. of 1604, which contains the two
principles which now limit territorial jurisdic-
tion over the open sea, confining it, 1, to a rea-
sonable distance, and 2, to a distance within which
the state can prohibit violence. Grotius, while
advocating the freedom of the open sea, ad-
mitted that portions of it might be occupied
by the state possessing the adjacent land. Bynk-
ershoek, in 1702, formulated the modern rule,
which is based upon the necessity of securing
peace and protection to the lives, property and in-
dustries of the subjects of states who live upon
their coasts, and which extends the territorial
waters of a state over so much of the Open Sea as
can be defended from its coasts. This, according
to Bynkershoek's formula, was as wide a belt of
open sea as could be effectively commanded from
the coast by cannon, a distance which subsequent
writers fixed as one marine league, although to
the present time it is often described as a distance
of a marine league or as far as cannon shot will
reach from the coast. To continental jurists this
suggestion of Bynkershoek seemed to afford a
912
TERRITORIAL WATERS.
reasonable basis for the settlement of conflicting
claims over the open sea, and, though widest dis-
agreement regarding the extent of territorial wa-
ters continued for a century, the principle has
gradually gained recognition that any control over
the open sea to be valid must be effective. No
mention of a marine league belt of territorial
waters appears to have been made in any English
court until 1801, and no exhaustive examination
of the nature of the rights of a state over such
waters, and their extent, was made in any En-
lish court till 1876, when a case arose (The Fran-
conia)” involving the right of England to punish
a foreigner for an offense committed while on a
foreign vessel on a foreign voyage within a marine
league of the English coast. The critical review
of the opinions of authoritative writers upon in-
ternational law, then made, showed that : 1. All
these writers acknowledge the right of a maritime
state to an extension of its territory, in a qualified
sense of the word, over some portion of the ad-
jacent sea beyond low-water mark; 2. Though
there is found a great variety of opinion among
these writers, as to the distance to which such
maritime territory should be allowed, that distance
varying (setting aside even more extravagant
claims) from 100 to three miles, the present limit,
not one of them puts such distance at less than
three miles ; 3. All the earlier writers, and many
of the later writers, maintained, that within the
zone of three miles the state had, without qual-
ification, a proprietary as well as a territorial
right, so that it might at its pleasure exclude
foreign ships from passing along the same; but
that others of the later writers contended that
the state had a territorial, but not a proprietary,
right Over the Zone, or that, at all events, the
innocent use of the zone by foreign ships for the
purpose of navigation could not without wrong
be interfered with. (2 L. R., Ex. Div., 71, 122,
123.)” — But, as the opinions of publicists, even
if there were no disagreement among them, are, at
best, only secondary evidence of what interna-
tional law is, the primary evidence of the fact
which these writers assert—the existence of an
international agreement to treat any part of the
littoral sea as belonging to or under the control of
the adjacent state—must be sought in treaties and
usage. What these disclose is most authoritatively
expressed in the opinion, delivered in the leading
case above named, by the late Lord Chief Justice
Cockburn, who said: “1. Treaties. It may be
asserted, without fear of contradiction, that the
rule that the sea surrounding the coast is to be
treated as a part of the adjacent territory, so that
the state shall have exclusive dominion over it,
and that the law of the latter shall be generally
applicable to those passing over it in the ships of
other nations, has never been made the subject-
matter of any treaty, or, as a matter of acknowl-
edged right, has formed the basis of any treaty,
or has ever been the subject of diplomatic discus-
sion. It has been entirely the creation of the
writers on international law. It is true that the
writers who have been cited constantly refer to:
treaties in support of the doctrine they assert.
But when the treaties they refer to are looked at,
they will be found to relate to two subjects only:
the observance of the rights and obligations of
neutrality, and the exclusive right of fishing. In
fixing the limits to which these rights should ex-
tend, nations have so far followed the writers on
international law as to adopt the three-mile range
as a convenient distance. . There are several treat-
ies by which nations have engaged, in event of
either of them being at war with a third, to treat
the sea within three miles of each other's coasts as
neutral territory, within which no warlike opera-
tions should be carried on. Again, nations, pos-
sessing opposite or neighboring coasts, border-
ing on a common Sea, have sometimes found it ex-
pedient to agree that the subjects of each shall ex-
ercise an exclusive right of fishing to a given dis-
tance from their own shores, and here also have
accepted the three miles as a convenient distance.
Such, for instance, are the treaties made between
this country and the United States in relation to
the fishery off the coast of Newfoundland, and
those between this country and France, in relation
to the fishery on their respective shores; and local
laws have been passed to give effect to these en-
gagements. 2. Usage. The only usage found to
exist is such as is connected with, navigation, or
with revenue, local fisheries or neutrality, and it
is to these alone that the usage relied on is con-
fined. Usage as to the application of the general
law of the local state to foreigners on the littoral
Sea, there is actually none. No nation has arro-
gated to itself the right of excluding foreign ves-
sels from the use of its external littoral waters for
the purpose of navigation, or has assumed the
power of making foreigners in foreign ships pass-
ing through these waters subject to its law, oth-
erwise than in respect of the matters to which I
have just referred. Nor have the tribunals of any
nation held foreigners in these waters amenable
generally to the local criminal law in respect of
Offenses.”—So far, then, as it is settled, the law
applicable to uninclosed territorial waters is as
follows: 1. The rights, whatever may be their de-
Scription, of an independent state over such wa-
ters, are created by international law, and are evi-
denced by the assent of nations which “may be
expressed by treaty, or the acknowledged concur-
rence of governments, or may be implied from
established usage,” and in the absence of such,
proof of assent the opinions of writers on inter-
national law are relevant only as tending to show
what claims & one independent state may exercise
over such waters without interference from other
independent states. 2. The rights of an independ-
ent state over such waters, so derived and so ev-
idenced, are, first, a right of jurisdiction limited
to the protection of its coasts from the effects of
hostilities between other states which may be at
* “Territorial Waters Jurisdiction Act (1878),” 41 and 42.
Vict., cap. 73, notwithstanding its preamble, is such a.
claim.
TERRITORIAL WATERS.
913
war, the prevention of frauds upon its customs
laws, and the regulation of fisheries; and second,
a usufructuary right to fisheries. Modern writers
who affirm any proprietary right over uninclosed
marginal waters unite in basing it upon the fact
that the adjacent “state has admittedly an exclu-
sive right to the enjoyment of the fisheries” in
such waters. But this seems to be more accurately
classed as a usufructuary right, for, if a state has
any proprietary right over such waters, it would
seem to have the exclusive right to set law over
them, and to close them to foreign vessels, as it
may close its ports, whereas it is universally ad-
mitted that foreign ships have a jus transitus over
such waters. 3. The internationally valid exer-
cise of the rights above enumerated by an inde-
pendent state is limited to a distance of one marine
league from low-water mark on its coast. — There
are a few apparent exceptions to this rule. 1.
Local pilot laws, which require that a pilot shall
be taken on board all vessels entering certain terri-
torial waters at a distance of more than three miles
from the coast. Such laws are no real exception
to the rule, being based upon the principle that a
state has a perfect right to say to foreign ships
voluntarily seeking its ports, that they shall not,
without complying with its law, enter into its
ports, and that if they do enter, they shall be sub-
ject to penalties unless they have previously com-
plied with the requisitions ordained; whether these
requisitions be, as in former times, certificates of
Origin, or clearances of any description from a
foreign port, or clean bills of health, or the taking
on board a pilot at any place in or out of its juris-
diction before entering its waters.” Other local
laws containing provisions affecting foreign ships,
or foreigners within such ships, in respect to acts
committed or omitted beyond the marine league
belt, are referable to the same principle. 2. Cus-
toms laws and hovering acts, which authorize mu-
nicipal seizures beyond the marine league. “It
will not,” says Dana,” “be found that any con-
sent of nations can be shown in favor of extending
what may be strictly called territoriality, for any
purpose whatever beyond the marine league or
cannon shot. Doubtless states have made laws,
for revenue purposes, touching acts done beyond
territorial waters; but it will not be found, that,
in later times, the right to make seizures beyond
such waters has been insisted upon against the re-
monstrance of foreign states, or that a clear and
unequivocal judicial precedent now stands sus-
taining such seizures, when the question of juris-
diction has been presented. The revenue laws of
the United States, for instance, provide, that, if a
vessel bound to a port in the United States, shall,
except from necessity, unload cargo within four
leagues of the coast, and before coming to the
proper port for entry and unloading, and receiving
permission to do so, the cargo is forfeit, and the
master incurs a penalty (Act March 2, 1797, sec.
27); but the statute does not authorize the seizure
of a foreign vessel when beyond the territorial ju-
risdiction. The statute may well.be construed to
177 VOL. III. — 58
mean only that a foreign vessel coming to an
American port, and there seized for a violation of
revenue regulations committed out of the jurisdic-
tion of the United states, may be confiscated; but
that, to complete the forfeiture, it is essential that
ths vessel shall be bound to, and shall come with-
in, the territory of the United States, after the
prohibited act. The act done beyond the juris-
diction is assumed to be part of an attempt to vio-
late the revenue laws within the jurisdiction. If
foreign vessels have been boarded and seized on
the high sea, and have been adjudged guilty, and
their governments have not objected, it is proba-
bly either because they were not appealed to, or
have acquiesced, in the particular instance, from
motives of comity.” Phillimore and Twiss both
substantially agree with Dana, and hold that judg-
ments affirming the legality of municipal seizures
beyond one marine league could not have been
sustained if the foreign state whose subject's
property had been seized had thought proper to
interfere, unless, perhaps, when that state had
put in force or at least enacted, for its own benefit,
a similar municipal law. 3. The waters in the
centre of certain straits, gulfs and bays, which
central waters lie outside the limit of a marine
league from any of the adjacent coasts, are claimed
to be territorial waters, and certain gulfs are in
actual practice so treated. France appears to
claim inlets whose entrance is not more than ten
miles wide. England long claimed the “Queen's
Chambers,” these being waters within headlands
as distant as Orfordness from the Foreland. The
bay of Conception, in Newfoundland, which pen-
etrates forty miles into the land, and is fifteen
miles in mean breadth, was recently decided to
be territorial water by the privy council. The
United States claimed Delaware bay in 1793. “Of
practice,” says Hall, " “there is a curious defi-
ciency, and there is nothing to show how many
of the claims to gulfs and bays which still find
their place in the books, are more than nominally
alive. It is scarcely possible to say anything more
definite than that, while on the one hand it may
be doubted whether any state would now seriously
assert a right of property over broad straits or
gulfs of considerable size and wide entrance, there
is, on the other hand, nothing in the conditions of
valid maritime occupation, to prevent the estab-
lishment of a claim either to basins of considerable
area, if approached by narrow entrances, such as
of the Zuyder Zee, or to large gulfs which, in
proportion to the width of their mouth, run deep-
ly into the land even when so large as the bay of
Fundy, or, still more, to Small bays, such as that
of Cancale.” — The United States, being an inde-
pendent state, has the international rights and is
under the international obligations above de-
scribed, in respect to the open Sea which washes
its coast; but, being a federal Union, jurisdiction
and ownership over these waters, as between its
constituent members, are regulated, not by inter-
national law, but by the terms of that Union.
Thus it has been decided" that the article of the
914
TERRITORIES.
constitution which describes the judicial power,
and extends it to cases of admiralty and maritime
jurisdiction, does not make a cession of territory
or of general jurisdiction, so as to vest in the
Lnited States the shores of the sea, below low-
water mark, and that whatever soil below low-
water mark, within the ebb and flow of the tide,
is the subject of exclusive property and owner-
ship, belongs to the state within whose territory
it lies, subject to any lawful grants to that soil by
the state or sovereign power which governed its
territory before the declaration of independence.
Massachusetts, for instance, expressly asserts, "
that, “The territorial limits of this commonwealth
extend one marine league from its seashore at low-
water mark. When an inlet or arm of the sea
does not exceed two marine leagues in width, be-
tween its headlands, a straight line from one
headland to the other is equivalent to the shore
line. The boundaries of counties bordering on
the sea shall extend to the line of the state, as
above defined.” So the counties and towns in
the state of New York which are bounded gener-
ally on Long Island sound, comprehend * within
their limits, for the purpose of ordinary civil and
criminal jurisdiction, the waters between their re-
spective shores and the exterior water line of the
state. Subject, then, to the paramount right of
navigation, the regulation of which in relation to
foreign and inter-state commerce has been granted
to the United States, each state owns 9 the beds of
all tide waters within its jurisdiction, unless they
have been granted away, and may appropriate
them, to be used by its citizens as a common for
taking and cultivating fish, if navigation is not
thereby obstructed. In like manner, the state owns
the tide waters themselves and the fish in them, so
far as they are capable of ownership while run-
ning. The right which the citizens of the state
thus acquire is a property right, and not a mere
privilege or immunity of citizenship, and a law of
a state, as Virginia, prohibiting citizens of other
states from planting oysters in the soil covered by
her tide waters, is neither a regulation of com-
merce nor a violation of any privilege or immuni-
ty of inter-state citizenship. — See Phillimore's
Commentaries upon International Law, vol. i.,
chaps. 4–8, Philadelphia, 1854; Kent's Commem-
taries, 12th ed., vol. i., pp. 26–36; Twiss’ The Law
of Nations (Time of Peace), London ed., 1861,
chap. 10; Woolsey’s International Law, 5th ed.,
secs. 56–63; Holland's Jurisprudence, pp. 297, 298;
*Twiss Arts, in Law Magazine, 1877; ” The Queen
vs. Keyn, 2 L. R., Ex. Div., pp. 63—240; * Lush.,
Adm., 295; 4 Wheaton's International Law, chap.
iv., secs. 177–206; " Hall's International Law, pp.
104–130, Oxford, 1880; 6 United States vs. Bevans,
3 Wheaton, 336; " Pub. Stats. of Mass., title 1,
chap. 1, Sec. 1, and title 6, chap. 22, sec. 1; * Mah-
ler vs. Transportation, Co., 35 N. Y. 352 ; 9 Mc-
Cready vs. Virginia, 94 U. S., 391; Territorial
Waters Jurisdiction Act, 1878, 41 and 42 Vict.,
cap. 73; Foreign Relations of U. S., 1878, pp.
245–251. JAMES FAIRBANKS COLBY.
TERRITORIES (IN U. S. HISTORy). Before
the American revolution the thirteen colonies were
“territories” of the British empire: that is, they
held much the same relation to the British empire
that the present territories hold to the United
States. They had many political privileges: they
had assemblies of their own, which made their
local laws, laid their local taxes, and paid their
local officers; three of them until 1691, and two
of them thereafter, elected their own governors
(see MASSACHUSETTS, CONNECTICUT, RHODE ISL-
AND); and in very many respects all of them were
self-governing commonwealths. But, whatever
the colonies may have thought of the matter, in
the view of the mother country these privileges
had their basis in the continuing will of the Brit-
ish sovereignty. The king had no right, theoret-
ically, to alienate permanently any of the prerog-
atives of the crown; and when his judges or his
parliament advised him that any of the privileges
which he had granted to the colonies were abused,
or proved to be inherently vicious, it was his duty
to revoke or alter them. Even a “charter,” in
this way of looking at it, had no inherent sanc-
tity; it was no contract between king and people,
but a grant by the king of privileges whose per-
manence was conditioned on the advantage of
their results to the mother country. Connecticut
had the privilege of electing its own governors
down to the revolution; but the privilege had no
solider basis than in Massachusetts, where it was
revoked in the charter of 1691. Of course the
colonies saw the matter differently. (See REvo-
LUTION.) But we are considering now only the
view taken by the sovereignty in both cases; and
from that point of view it is difficult to see any
great difference between the status of the colonies
under the British empire, and of the territories
under the United States. Both had political priv-
ileges, but in both the continuance of the privi-
leges was dependent on the continuing will of the
superior, and On the advantages of the arrange-
ment to the superior. The history of the territo-
ries of the United States will, it is confidently
submitted, show the infinite superiority of the
American over the British colonial policy. In-
deed, its superiority has become so apparent that
the British policy has of late years been radically
altered in the direction of the American policy.
— I. ACQUISITION. 1. Under the Colomies. Six
of the colonies, New Hampshire, Rhode Island,
New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania and Mary-
land (see their names), had defined western bound-
aries; the other seven, Massachusetts, Connect-
icut, New York, Virginia, North Carolina, South
Carolina and Georgia, had none, unless we may
consider the Pacific ocean, assigned in the charters
and grants of most of them, as a western bound-
ary. There were some irregularities. The bound-
aries of New Hampshire were always exceedingly
vague; and, though most of them were settled by
convention with Massachusetts, the New Hamp-
shire authorities asserted an indefinite claim to the
territory to the west, to which New York long
TERRITORIES.
915
opposed an equally indefinite claim. (See WER-
MONT.) New York, as it came into the hands of
the English, consisted only of the strip of land on
both sides of the Hudson river, which the Dutch
had settled. To the north and west of Albany
there was a vast extent of Indian territory, whose
tribes had either been conquered by the Dutch or
had made treaties with them. New York, there-
fore, claimed a sort of suzerainty over it, without
any express grant from the king. The claim
was in effect recognized by the king's proclama-
tion of 1763, constituting the province of Quebec,
and by the act of parliament of 1774, defining its
boundaries: the two ran the boundary line between
Canada (Quebec) and New York very much as at
present. This really satisfied New York, and yet
that colony, perhaps to call attention away from
the vagueness of its acknowledged title, continued
to assert a much vaguer claim to still further
western territory. Massachusetts, Connecticut,
Virginia, and the colonies to the south, were
bounded west by the Pacific Ocean in their grants.
Virginia (see that state) asserted that her northern
boundary ran northwest, instead of west, so that
her territory was continually widening as it went
westward. The boundaries of Maryland and of
the western part of Pennsylvania conflicted with
Virginia's claim, but Virginia yielded in these re-
spects, for the purpose of establishing the rest of
her claim. South Carolina had really been given
a western boundary by the formation of the col-
ony of Georgia, which cut off her further expan-
sion to the west; but it was not yet known whether
Georgia covered the whole western boundary of
South Carolina, and the latter colony claimed that
a narrow strip along the northern edge of its
former territory still remained. If there was any
such strip it was not more than a dozen miles wide.
— The king's proclamation of Oct. 7, 1763, after
constituting the new provinces of Quebec and the
Floridas, declared it to be his “royal will and
pleasure,” as to the territory between them, “to
reserve under our sovereignty, protection and do-
minion, for the use of the said Indians, * * * all
the lands and territories lying to the westward
of the sources of the rivers which fall into the sea.
from the west and northwest.” This was clearly
the establishment of a western boundary for all the
colonies which had hitherto had none; and the
ground of the establishment was as clearly the
asserted right and duty of the king to modify his
grants and charters, when their results proved to
be injurious to the interests of the empire. The
right was always denied by the colonies, and their
resistance to it was one of the most powerful
forces which led to the revolution; and yet, curi-
Ously enough, when independence was established,
this very proclamation was asserted by the states
which had original western boundaries as a valid
assignment of a western boundary for the others.
– Virginia hardly showed an enterprise in assert-
ing western claims commensurate with their mag-
nitude and importance. The first Virginia ex-
ploring party crossed the Blue Ridge in 1666; but
it was not until 1712, under Spotswood's adminis-
tration, that the country beyond the mountains
was reduced to possession. Before the middle of
the eighteenth century, settlements had crossed
the mountains. The organization of the Ohio
company in 1748–9 was due to individual Virginia
enterprise; but in the French and Indian war,
which followed it (see WARs, I.), Virginia sup-
ported the company with her whole force. The
place of the first struggles, though now in western
Pennsylvania, was then supposed to be in Virginia.
In 1774 Gov. Dunmore led the Virginia forces
against the Scioto Indians, and compelled them to
make peace; but his motives in the expedition
were strongly suspected to be selfish. The settle-
ment of Kentucky (see that state) was also due to
individual enterprise; and its formal establish-
ment as a Virginia county in 1776 was almost
forced on Virginia by George Rogers Clarke, a
Virginia surveyor resident in Kentucky. Clarke
at once became the champion of Virginia's inter-
est in the northwest. In 1778–9 he led a FCen-
tucky force into Illinois, and conquered that ter-
ritory and Vincennes, now in Indiana; and the
whole was made the county of Illinois by the Vir-
ginia legislature. But little attempt was made
by Virginia to incorporate the conquest; and at
the time of the first cession in 1784 it is improb-
able that there was any Virginia government
in Illinois. – North Carolina asserted her west-
ern claims with more energy and success. The
first assertion was due to individual enterprise.
The first settlement of Tennessee (see that state)
was by hunting parties, and by persons who
had found the disturbed state of North Carolina
under the royal governor unpleasant. In 1776
their settlements were made “Washington dis-
trict’ of North Carolina; and, as settlements in-
creased, other counties were formed. After the
first session, in 1784, the Tennesseans revolted, and
formed the state of Franklin, or Frankland; but
North Carolina revoked her cession, and suppressed
the Franklin revolt. The authority of the state
was thus established from the Atlantic to the
Mississippi. — Other colonies dealt in nothing but
assertions. None of them made any practical
effort to maintain their claim to territory beyond
their present western boundary, with two excep-
tions. Connecticut made a long but finally un-
successful attempt to oust Pennsylvania from a
part of her territory (see WYOMING), and Massa-
chusetts compromised her claims to the territory
of New York. (See NEw York.)—2. Under the
Confederation. The essential importance of the
western territory was as a bond for holding the
states together during and after the revolution.
The revolution was undoubtedly begun under a
vague idea of separate state action in theory, with
a controlling necessity for national action in prac-
tice; and the articles of confederation were care-
fully framed with the view of securing as much
of the former and as little of the latter as possible.
(See STATE SovieREIGNTY; CONFEDERATION, AR-
TICLES OF.) So strong was the particularist feeling
‘916
TERRITORIES.
in the different states that they were only held
firmly together by the first flush of the war feel-
ing; and as this influence relaxed, the tendency
to disintegration grew more plainly evident. At
first sight, the most powerful opposing force to
this disintegrating tendency was the common
commercial interest which grew up throughout
the states (see FEDERAL PARTY); but the posses-
sion of the western territory was a more powerful,
though more silent, force, for it reached states
which the other force did not touch. If the
western territory was to be retained and utilized,
but two courses were open: to allow all the states to
engage in a general scramble for it, in which each
state should secure as much of its claims as it could
enforce; or to accept it as national property, de-
fend it by national force, and govern it by national
authority. To allow the national bond to break
altogether, through the default of the articles of
confederation, would have had the former result;
and in this instance, as in others, the prejudices of
the people at last gave way to their common sense,
and they chose the latter. But the process by
which they were brought to this conclusion made
up one of the vital issues of American politics
from 1778 until 1784. — In the beginning congress
seems to have had no notion that the western lands
were national property. Among its measures to
raise an army, Sept. 16, 1776, it promised grants
of lands to officers and soldiers, but was careful
to provide that the money necessary “to procure
such lands” should be assessed upon the states
like other expenses. Oct. 15, 1777, before the
articles of confederation were proposed to the
states, a motion was made in congress to add a
provision that congress should be empowered to
fix the western boundaries of the claimant states,
and to divide the western territory into independ-
ent states; but only Maryland voted for it.
Clarke's expedition to the Illinois country in 1778,
and Virginia's sudden prospect of boundless ter-
ritorial wealth, threw the apple of discord among
the states. Heretofore the claimant states had
been content to claim, without taking active steps
to enforce their claims; and their extreme demand
had been only the negative provision of the ninth
article of confederation, that “no state shall be
deprived of territory for the benefit of the United
States.” Ten of the states, all but New Jersey,
Delaware and Maryland, had already ratified the
articles; but most of them had ordered their dele-
gates to propose alterations before signing. When
the proposed alterations were considered in con-
gress, June 22–25, 1778, it was found that Maryland
proposed to alter the ninth article by empowering
congress to fix the western boundaries of the
claimant states; that Rhode Island proposed to
alter it by empowering congress to sell crown
lands within the states; and that New Jersey only
protested against the article as it stood, as unfair
to the non-claimant states. All amendments were
voted down. Eight of the states signed the arti-
cles, by their delegates, July 9; North Carolina,
July 21; and Georgia, July 24. New Jersey,
Delaware and Maryland refused to sign. New-
Jersey yielded first : her delegates signed the arti-
cles, Nov. 26, 1778, relying on “the candor and,
justice of the several states’’ for cessions of their
claims. The Delaware delegate signed Feb. 22,.
1779, protesting at the same time that his state was:
justly entitled to a share in the territory which
had been won “by the blood and treasure of all.”
Maryland was now the only obstacle, but it proved:
for some time insuperable. Dec. 15, 1778, that:
state formally instructed her delegates “not to
agree to the confederation,” unless the ninth arti-
cle should be amended as she had desired; and
the letter of instructions demanded that the west-
ern territory “should be considered as a commons
property, subject to be parceled out by congresss
into free, convenient and independent govern-
ments, in such manner and at such times as the
wisdom of that assembly shall hereafter direct.”
This seems to have been the first official proposali
of that extension of the federal system which had!
been first suggested in 1777, probably also by
Maryland, and which has been the secret of the
success of the American policy. — Maryland held.
out for three years; and during that time the arti-
cles hung fire. At first her opposition threatened,
to provoke an explosion, for some of the claimant.
states seem to have been willing to break up the
Union rather than surrender their claims. Dec.
19, 1778, Virginia formally offered to put the arti-
cles in force with any one or more states which
should ratify them as they stood, so that Maryland.
at least would have been left out of the Union; and,
Connecticut agreed, April 7, 1779. But Maryland.
remained firm; and her firmness, and perhaps the
discovery that Virginia's claim, if allowed in full,
would neutralize those of the northern states,
gradually turned the scale of opinion against Vir--
ginia. Feb. 19, 1780, New York led the way by-
empowering her delegates to agree to a western.
boundary, and relinquishing all claims beyond.
The ceded territory was to be held for the use of
‘‘ such of the United States as shall become mem-
bers of the federal alliance,” and for no other pur-
pose. By this New York really gave up nothing,
and gained a certain instead of a doubtful bound-
ary. But the precedent was a promising one, and.
congress used it to pass a resolution, Sept. 6,
1780, “earnestly recommending” the other claim-
ant states to follow New York’s example, and,
“earnestly requesting” Maryland to ratify and
sign the articles. This was followed, Oct. 10, by
another resolution, in which congress committed
itself to Maryland's proposed extension of the
federal system, promising that the territory ceded
should be “formed into distinct republican
states, which should become members of the
federal Union, and have the same rights of sover-
eignty, freedom and independence as the other
states.” From this line of policy congress has never
swerved, and it has been more successful than.
stamp acts or Boston port bills in building up an
empire. — In October, 1780, Connecticut offered to.
cede her claims, reserving a tract along Lake Erie.
TERRITORIES.
917.
Jan. 2, 1781, while Arnold was ravaging Virginia,
that state offered to cede her claims northwest of
the Ohio, on condition that congress would guar-
antee her possession of Kentucky and the larger
part of Tennessee. Neither of these offers was
:accepted by congress, but the prospect was so en-
couraging, that Maryland at once empowered her
“delegates to sign the articles, and they did so,
March 1, 1781. On the same day the New York
delegates assented to the western boundary of the
! state, On condition that the same guarantee should
be given to New York as to any other state. Thus
the articles of confederation went into force with-
out any real settlement of the territorial question,
for the only cession likely to be accepted had
..amounted to nothing. — Oct. 30, 1779, congress
had passed a resolution, against the votes of Vir-
ginia and North Carolina, recommending Vir-
ginia to close her land office and forbear issuing
iland warrants until the end of the war. Oct. 29,
1782, the persistent Maryland delegates moved
that the cession of New York be accepted by
congress, and the motion was carried against the
vote of Virginia, North and South Carolina being
divided, and Massachusetts having but one dele-
gate and no vote. The purpose of this action was
to get a fulcrum from which to operate on the
claim of Virginia, and it was effective. The
claim of New York to her own territory west of
Albany was derived from her supremacy over the
“Six Nations”; and this was now recognized by
all the states. But the Six Nations had always
asserted a general right by conquest to all the ter-
ritory west of New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia
:and North Carolina. If this also were admitted,
it also had passed to New York, and had been
ceded by New York to congress; and the whole
western territory was already national property,
without the formality of a cession by Virginia or
..any other state. May 1, 1782, a committee had
imade an elaborate report to congress. It upheld
the claim of New York to its full extent; con-
sidered the jurisdiction of the whole western ter-
ritory, including Virginia's claim, to be already
vested in congress by New York’s cession of it;
and recommended Virginia to make a new and
..full cession. Consideration of the report was
postponed, but it was evidently high time for
Virginia to cede the northwest territory abso-
lutely and gracefully, if she desired to save
Kentucky and her land warrants there. --The
..act of cession was passed by the Virginia leg-
islature, Oct. 20, 1783, and the deed was ex-
ecuted by her delegates in congress, March 1,
1784. Under the circumstances, the terms accord-
red to the state were sufficiently liberal; the land
titles of Virginia settlers were to hold good; the
“expenses of the state in conquering the territory
were to be repaid to her; 150,000 acres were re-
served for Clarke and his troops; and any defi-
ciency in Virginia land warrants in Kentucky and
"Tennessee was to be made good in the northwest
territory. The ceded territory was to be organ-
ized according to the federal policy which con-
gress had outlined in October, 1780. A supple-
mentary act of cession was presented in congress,
Dec. 30, 1788; but this was only to conform the
original act to the terms of the ordinance of 1787.
Virginia's cession was complete in 1784. — Mas-
sachusetts made an unqualified cession of her
claims west of Niagara river, April 19, 1785, in
accordance with an act of the legislature of Nov.
13, 1784. — Congress had not as yet accepted Con-
necticut's proffered cession, on account of the res-
ervation of a tract extending from the Pennsyl-
vania line 120 miles westward. But Connecticut
had loyally accepted the award of congress against
her in the case of Wyoming (see that title); and
congress at last accepted her cession, May 26,
1786. April 28, 1800, an act of congress author.
ized the president to deed to Connecticut the title
to this “western reserve,” on condition that Con-
necticut should surrender all claim to its jurisdic.
tion, and abandon any claim to the territory with-
in the limits of New York; and the state fulfilled
the conditions, May 30. — Aug. 9, 1787, South
Carolina made an unqualified cession of her
claims west of a line from the head of Tugaloo
river to the North Carolina boundary. The actual
cession was a strip of land about twelve miles
wide. That portion of it which is now a part of
Georgia was transferred to that state in part re-
turn for its cession in 1802. — The South Carolina
cession closed the formal record of acquisitions
of territory under the confederation; but there
were two more cessions, which, though made
under the constitution, were only belated com-
pletions of confederation arrangements. North
Carolina ceded Tennessee in 1784; but, before
congress could meet, and accept the cession, it
was revoked on account of the anger it excited in
Tennessee. Five years later, this feeling had dis-
appeared. In December, 1789, the North Carolina
legislature made another cession of Tennessee,
which was accepted by act of congress of April
2, 1790. The North Carolina titles and military
land warrants were to hold good, and the territory
was to be organized as the northwest territory had
been, “provided always, that no regulations made
or to be made by congress shall tend to emancipate
slaves.”— Most difficulty was met in the case of
the claims of Georgia, covering the present states
of Alabama and Mississippi, north of parallel 31°
and south of the South Carolina cession. It had
been claimed by South Carolina, because the orig-
inal grant to the Carolina proprietors covered the
territory between parallels 31° and 36° west to the
South seas. But the proprietors had transferred
their rights to the king; the king had formed the
colony of Georgia in 1732, and given to it the ter-
ritory between the Altamaha river and the most
northern part of the Savannah, westward to the
South seas; and his proclamation of 1763 had an-
nexed to Georgia the territory between the Alta-
maha and the St. Mary rivers. In 1787 the two
states made a treaty at Beaufort, by which South
Carolina obtained the territory afterward ceded by
her, and Georgia the rest. Georgia took no steps
918 v.
TERRITORIES.
to cede her share to the United States, but made
preparations to reduce it to possession. (See YAzoo
FRAUDs.) April 7, 1798, an act of congress organ-
ized the territory of Mississippi (see that state), but
it covered less than half of the present extent of the
state. Its southern boundary was parallel 31; its
northern boundary a line due east from the mouth
of the Yazoo to the Chattahoochie. This territory
had been annexed by the king to West Florida,
and was claimed by the congress of the confedera-
tion as common property under the treaty of peace
in 1783. Feb. 1, 1788, Georgia had passed an act
ceding this part of the territory to the United
States, on condition of being guaranteed the rest
of her claims. This congress refused to do, July
15, 1788, and the cession fell through. Spain, by
the treaty of 1795 (see ANNExATIONs, I.), aban-
doned all claim to this part of the territory, and
the act of 1798 proceeded to organize it into a ter-
ritory, in spite of Georgia’s claims to it; but the
same act authorized the appointment of commis-
sioners to treat with Georgia for all her western
claims. Madison, Gallatin and Lincoln were ap-
pointed commissioners; and the act of May 10,
1800, gave them full power to treat, provided that
no money was to be paid by the United States ex-
cept out of the proceeds of the lands ceded. April
24, 1802, the commissioners agreed upon an ar-
rangement by which Georgia was to cede all her
western claims, and receive in return the proceeds
of not more than 5,000,000 acres, or $1,250,000.
Previous titles were to hold good; and slavery was
not to be prohibited in the new territory. The
agreement was confirmed by the Georgia act of
June 16, 1802, and the act of congress of March
3, 1803; and the ceded territory was added to Mis-
sissippi territory by act of March 27, 1804. A pro-
vision in the cession for the extinguishing of Indian
titles in Georgia by the United States gave some
further trouble. (See CHEROKEE CASE.)—3. Un-
der the Constitution. This branch of the subject
is treated as a separate article: ANNEXATIONS. —
4. Right of Acquisition. It must be evident that
there was an essential distinction between the
acquisitions of territory under the confederation
and under the constitution. In the former case,
the so-called “acquisitions” were not really ac-
quisitions at all, and Maryland's position was
correct. The territory in question had been con-
quered by national force, and the nation's title
to it had been recognized by the international
recognition of its boundaries. The “acquisi-
tions” were merely the removal of the cloud
on the title which came from the troublesome
claims of the states. Under the constitution, the
acquisitions were real acquisitions of originally
foreign soil. — But, in either case, the mere hold-
ing and organization of the territory into inchoate
states is fatal to the notion of an absolute sover-
eignty in the states. We may call the nation any
question-begging name we will, federal alliance,
confederacy, or what not : but it is a nation if it
can hold and organize territories, and in due
process of time and increase of strength it will be
\
prepared to vindicate its right to existence and
respect against all comers. And, on the other
hand, if we do not recognize the United States as
a nation, it is altogether impossible to locate any
basis for the right to acquire, hold or organize the
territories. Under the confederation, congress.
had no right to exercise any power not expressly
granted to it; and the power to acquire, hold and,
organize territories is conspicuous by its absence.
“All this has been done,” says the “Federalist,”
‘‘ and done without the least color of constitutional
authority.” Under the constitution, congress was,
it is true, empowered to “dispose of and make all.
needful rules and regulations respecting the terri-
tory belonging to the United States.” (Art. IV.,.
§ 3); but all respectable authorities agree that this.
provision referred only to the territory then (1787–8).
“belonging to the United States,” and gave no.
power to make future acquisitions. It might fairly
be argued, that, when new acquisitions were made,
the power above stated applied to them, as then
“belonging to the United States;” but the power
to acquire is not there. It is the inherent charac.
teristic of a sovereignty, as it is of the individual
person, and in neither case requires a permit by
charter. It is clearly stated in a resolution pro-
posed by the Maryland delegates, Sept. 13, 1783,
that “the United States are vested, as one undi-
vided and independent nation, with all and every
power and right exercised by the king of Great
Britain over the said territory;” though only
Maryland and New Jersey voted for it. There is
but one way to evade this conclusion, by the sup-
position of a temporary suspension or informal
alteration of the organic law. Some such idea is
advanced by Judge Taney, in his Dred Scott
opinion, when he holds that the states had a right.
to accept a “cession of territory for their common
benefit, which all of them assented to;” and by
Jefferson (see ANNEXATIONs, I.), in supposing that
his unconstitutional acquisition of Louisiana could
be condoned by general popular acquiescence. But
neither of these will do. The former lacks the
essential confirmation of the facts in the case. The
dates on which the cessions were accepted by con-
gress have been given above, and a reference to
the journals of congress under those dates will
show the reader that there was not one cession to
which “all of the states '' assented. The New
York cession was accepted against the vote of
Virginia, with two states divided ; the Virginia
cession against the vote of New Jersey, with South
Carolina divided; the Massachusetts cession with
New York divided; and the Connecticut cession.
against the vote of Maryland, with four states.
divided. The only doubtful one is the unim-
portant cession of South Carolina, as to which
there is no record of the vote. Thus, the various.
cessions were not accepted by a unanimous agree-
ment of sovereign states, but by an actual, though
hardly recognized, national power. Judge Taney
was bound to imply unanimity, but his conclusion
falls with his innuendo. Jefferson’s view is a rank
distortion of the national idea, disguised as ultra,
TERRITORIES.
919.
democracy; and it shows the proneness of man to
dress in familiar garments, and re-baptize with a
more welcome name, an unwelcome fact to which
he can no longer shut his eyes. Jefferson would
have been the first to reject the notion that a
strong popular majority, regardless of state lines,
can rightfully set aside, even for a time, the or-
ganic law; yet here he extends the idea to a per-
manent alteration, rather than countenance the
idea of a national power in internal affairs. The
truth seems to be, that, without the recognition
of such a power, the acutest man must be puz-
zled to explain the right to acquire territory; and
that the acquisition of territory is itself the bold-
est exercise and assertion of national power. —
II. ORGANIZATION OF TERRITORIES. The or-
ganization of the territories of the United States
has a double object: to provide for good govern-
ment while the population is sparse; and to en-
courage their development into self-governing
commonwealths, and their incorporation into the
federal system, as rapidly as possible. This latter
point is the peculiar feature of the American colo-
nial system. — The organization of the territory
northwest of the Ohio, from which have since been
formed the states of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michi-
gan and Wisconsin, has been considered elsewhere.
(See ORDINANCE OF 1787.) It is sufficient to say
here that the government was at first vested in a
governor and judges, appointed by congress until
1789, and by the president thereafter; that they
were empowered to form a code of laws for the
territory, by selection from state statutes; that
congress retained a negative on their acts; but
that, when there should be 5,000 male inhabitants
in the territory, they should have a legislature of
their Öwn, congress still retaining the veto power.
For a long time, a territory with a complete legis-
lature was called a territory of the first class, and
Others territories of the second class. There are
now only territories of the first class, and two un-
organized territories (Indian territory and Alaska).
— For the territories within the original limits of
the United States, the ordinance of 1787 was the
model. As the successive territories were carved
out of the northwest territory, the fundamental
provision of the organizing act was that “there
shall be established within the said territory a
government in all respects similar to that pro-
vided by the ordinance of congress, passed on
the 13th day of July, 1787, for the government of
the territory of the United States northwest of
the river Ohio, and the inhabitants thereof shall be
entitled to and enjoy all and singular the rights,
privileges and advantages granted and secured to
the people by the said ordinance.” The organ-
izing act for Wisconsin, in 1836, was the first of
these which was very elaborate. In the cases of
Tennessee and Mississippi, south of the Ohio, the
Organizing acts were like the corresponding acts
for northern territories, excepting that section of
the ordinance of 1787 which forbade slavery; but
in the organization of Alabama, in 1817, the
Ordinance of 1787 is not referred to, unless it is
included in the provision that all laws then in
force in the territory of Mississippi should re-
main in force until otherwise provided by law. —
In the organization of the territories acquired
under the constitution, and hence beyond the
original limits of the United States, it has been
necessary to follow a more elaborate scheme of
organization than that of the original territories.
The first act in relation to Louisiana, in 1803, was
simple enough. It merely empowered the presi-
dent to appoint all civil, military and judicial
officers of the new territory, to define their du-
ties, and to support them with the army and
navy of the United States. It was in effect
the establishment of a military despotism over
Louisiana, and may suffice as an example of the
extent to which the sovereign power of the United
States over the territories might go, if a wiser
policy were not the rule. In this case the despo-
tism was only intended to be temporary; and in
the following year the territory was properly or-
ganized. As this was the model regularly followed
afterward, it may be as well to itemize it. 1.
The governor was to be appointed by the president
for three years, to be the executive, to pardon
offenses against territorial laws, and to reprieve
offenders against laws of the United States until
the president could act. 2. The secretary was to
be appointed for four years, to record territorial
acts, and to send copies of the governor's acts to
the president every six months. 3. The governor
and a legislative council of thirteen members,
appointed annually by the president, made up
the territorial legislature; and its acts were to
be sent by the governor to congress, through the
president, and, if vetoed by congress, were to be
void. 4. The judges were to be appointed for four
years (see JUDICIARY, WI.); but trial by jury,
habeas corpus, the privilege of bail, and moderate
and usual punishments were secured to the peo-
ple. 5. Specified laws of the United States were
declared to be in force in the new territory. This
was really a territory of the second class. When
Missouri was formed in 1812, it was as a territory
of the first class. Its legislature consisted of a
governor, a legislative council, and a house of rep-
resentatives. The representatives were to be elect-
ed by the people; they were to nominate eighteen
persons, and out of these the president was to ap-
point the legislative council of nine. In all cases
the territory was to elect a delegate to congress,
who was to have the privilege of debate, but not
of voting. (See House, OF REPRESENTATIVES.)
In second-class territories the delegate was reg-
ularly chosen by the legislature; in first-class
territories, by the people. In minor points, as in
the term of office-holding, boundaries, etc., there
were constant variations; but the general system
has been as above. —It will easily be understood
that such a system exerts, from the beginning of
population, a steady pressure toward the exercise
of political power by the people; and that it is so
self-governing in its action that it can correct the
dangers of early border lawlessness, while it gives
920
TERRITORIES.
more and still more power to the people as the pop-
ulation becomes fixed and settled. At the same
time the land system of the territories, next to be
referred to, has been steadily operating to increase,
fix and settle the population. The two, working
together, inevitably result in the natural and sim-
ple development of states. In this manner nine-
teen territories have been transformed gradually
into states. A list of the ratifications or admissions
of the thirty-eight states (1883) is elsewhere given.
(See CoNSTITUTION, I.) Of these, the first thirteen
were original states. Of the remaining twenty-
five, four were formed out of other states, Wer-
mont, Maine, Kentucky and West Virginia; one,
California, was admitted as a state before it was
possible to organize it as a territory; one, Texas,
was annexed as a state; and the remaining nineteen
are the fruits of the territorial system. In the
process of transformation, it has been usual, since
the admission of Ohio, that congress should pass
an “enabling act,” authorizing the people of the
territory to form a state government; but this has
not been regarded as a sine qua mom, since the ab-
solute power of congress to admit or reject the
state is a sufficient safeguard. (See FLORIDA,
Iowa, KANSAs, MICHIGAN.)— There are now,
(1883) eight organized territories, all of the first
class, Arizona, Dakota, Idaho, Montana, New
Mexico, Utah, Washington and Wyoming; two
unorganized territories, Indian territory and Alas-
ka; and the district containing the national capital,
the District of Columbia, governed directly by
congress or its agents. (See the names of these
territories.) All of the organized territories are
inchoate states; Dakota has already applied for
admission; and, unless peculiar circumstances in-
terfere in the case of Utah (see MORMONS), it will
probably not be long before the United States
will have no organized territories. –It is impos-
sible within reasonable limits, to give the histori-
cal geography of the territories, for the changes
in their boundaries and areas have been very nu-
merous. For these the reader is referred to the
map prefixed to the second volume of Hough's
work, cited below, and to the analysis in Walk-
er's statistical atlas of the United States.—III.
LAND SYSTEM. (See PUBLIC LANDS.)—IV. SLAv-
ERY IN THE TERRITORIES. The prohibition
of slavery in the northwest territory is else-
where given (see ORDINANCE OF 1787); it held
good in spite of efforts to evade or abrogate it.
(See INDIANA, ILLINOIS, SLAVERY.) In organiz-
ing Tennessee and Mississippi territories, it was
provided that the article of the ordinance prohib-
iting slavery should not be enforced; and in organ-
izing Alabama the same thing was done in effect
by continuing the laws of Mississippi territory.
No act of congress ever established slavery in a
territory. In the new acquisitions, in Louisiana
and Florida, the territorial Órganizing act practi-
cally allowed slavery by continuing former laws;
and the same thing was done in Missouri and
Arkansas by continuing the former laws of
Louisiana and Missouri. The struggle of 1320
(see CoMPROMISES, IV.) ended the extension of
slavery by this system, and established a line
north of which slavery was prohibited. For fur-
ther security, all the privileges of the ordinance
of 1787 were guaranteed to the people of Oregon
territory in 1848; and the same thing was done in
effect with Iowa territory in 1838, and Minnesota
territory in 1849, by guaranteeing to them the
privileges of Wisconsin territory, which came un-
der the ordinance. No such provision was in the
Kansas-Nebraska act (see that title) in 1854. — The
acquisition of new territory from Mexico brought
up a new series of difficulties. (See WILMOT
PROVISO.). California took care of herself by com-
ing in as a free state. Utah and New Mexico were
organized without mention of slavery; but, when
their territorial legislatures passed laws practically
recognizing slavery, it was not possible to unite
both houses of congress in vetoing them, and they
held good. Nevertheless, when the territories of
Nevada, Colorado and Dakota were organized,
during the early months of 1861, there was no
mention of slavery therein, and the system of
slavery had the benefit of the decision in the Dred
Scott case. (See that title.) Finally, in 1862 (see
WILMOT PROVISO), slavery was abolished in all
territories then held or to be acquired. — See (I.)
Poore's Federal and State Constitutions; Report of
Ičegents on the Boundaries of New York; authorities
under the states named; (2) the leading authority
under this section is H. B. Adams' Maryland's
Influence ºn Founding a National Commonwealth;
other authorities are the Journals of Congress un-
der the dates named ; Land Laws of the United
States (1828); the authorities given in Adams'
notes; Perkins' Ammals of the West (1846); Burnet's
Notes on the Northwest Territory (1847); Barber
and Howe's History of the Western States (1853);
Dillon's History of Indiana (1859); Hildreth’s Ear-
ly History of the Worthwest (1864); Blanchard’s Dis-
covery of the Worthwest (1880); Towle's History of the
Constitution, 350; 1 Bancroft's History of the Com-
titution, 168; 1 Curtis' Iſistory of the Constitution,
291; St. Clair Papers (1882); 1 Stat. at Large, 106,
549 (acts of April 2, 1790, and April 7, 1798); 2 ib.,
56, 69,229, 305 (acts of April 28, 1800, May 10, 1800,
March 3, 1803, and March 27, 1804); the cessions,
etc., are also given in 1 Stat. at Large (Bioren and
Duane's edit.) (II.) See authorities under ORDI-
NANCE of 1787; the organizing acts in Stat. at
Large, as given among the authorities under states
and territories named; 2 Hough's American Com-
stitutions (map); Walker's Statistical Atlas of the
United States. (III.) See table 4 in 1 Stat. at Large,
a list of acts of congress in regard to public lands,
until 1845; Cutts’ Constitutional and Party Ques-
tions, 161 (Senator Douglas' description of the land
system and its operations); Porter's West ºn 1880,
585; Report of the Commissioner of the Land Office
(1875); Johns Hopkins University Studies ºn Politi-
cal Science, particularly No. 3, Shaw’s Local Gov-
ernment in Illinois. (IV.) See authorities under
the states and other articles referred to.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
TEXAS.
921
TEXAS, a state of the American Union, and
the only one which was, before its admission, an
independent state, with powers to make war,
peace and treaties, send and receive ambassadors,
vetc. It was at first a part of New Spain, or Mexico,
the American claim upon it having been aban-
doned by the Florida treaty with Spain in 1819
(see ANNExATIONs, II.); and it participated in the
successful revolt against Spanish authority. Jan.
:31, 1824, Mexico framed a federal constitution,
which went into force Oct. 4. Its fundamental
idea was like that of the United States, except
that it established the Roman Catholic as the state
church, and forbade the use of any other form of
worship. March 11, 1827, the “state of Coahuila
and Texas” framed a state constitution, patterned
after that of the nation in every respect, except
its 13th article, as follows: “In this state no
sperson shall be born a slave after this constitu-
tion is published in the capital of each district,
and six months thereafter, neither will the intro-
ºduction of slaves be permitted under any pretext.”
— American adventurers had already begun to
enter the more thinly populated district of Texas,
pretending to be good Catholics, and paying little
attention to the abolition of slavery. April 1–13,
1833, in convention at San Felipe, they formed a
new state constitution, more closely American in
design, introducing trial by jury, universal suf-
frage, and the right of petition; but it was never
Irecognized by the central government. When
*Santa Anna's new Mexican government, Jan. 31,
1835, undertook to abolish the state governments
..and transform them into departments, as in
France, Texas rebelled. A convention at Austin,
-Oct. 17 — Nov. 13, 1835, framed a provisional gov-
•ernment, and adjourned to Washington, March 1,
1836. On the next day after reassembling, it made
a declaration of independence, on the ground that
Santa Anna had overthrown the Mexican govern-
ment and established a military despotism, and
that the compact between Texas and Mexico had
thus been broken. (See SECESSION, II.) Before
its final adjournment, March 17, it had framed a
constitution for the republic of Texas. The house
of representatives was to be chosen annually, and
the Senate for three years; and the president was
to be chosen by popular vote for three years, but
was not immediately re-eligible. “All persons of
color, who were slaves for life previous to their
emigration to Texas, and who are now held in
bondage, shall remain in the like state of servi-
ſtude.” Congress could pass no laws to free slaves,
or prevent immigrants from bringing them into the
republic. Free negroes were not to be allowed to
become or remain inhabitants; and slaveholders
could not free slaves, unless with the consent of
congress, and on condition of sending the freed-
men out of the republic. Under this constitution
"Texas maintained her independence, which was
recognized by the various commercial nations.
The story of her annexation to the United States
is elsewhere told. (See ANNExATIONS, III.) —
BOUNDARIES. The eastern and northern bound-
ary of Texas was fixed by the Florida treaty of
1819 with Spain. (The line will be found under
ANNExATIONs, II.) This line was confirmed by
treaty of Jan. 12, 1828, with Mexico, and April
25, 1838, with Texas. The southeastern boundary
was natural, the gulf of Mexico. The northwest-
ern and western boundary was a matter of far
more difficulty. Volumes have been written to
prove that Texas, under the French Louisiana
claim, to which the United States succeeded in
1803, and which the United States abandoned in
1819, extended westward to the Rio Grande; and
that its reannexation, in 1845, should cover the
same territory. All this argument seems need-
less. After the establishment of the republic of
Mexico, the western boundary of Texas was en-
tirely a matter of internal decision in Mexico.
The “state Of Coahuila and Texas” extended to
the Rio Grande; but the national existence of Tex-
as was as much a secession from Coahuila as from
Mexico, and the western boundary of the repub-
lic of Texas never extended beyond the Nueces
river. It is true that the Texan congress, Dec. 19,
1836, defined the western boundary of the repub-
lic as the Rio Grande to its head, and thence due
north to latitude 42°, about the latitude of Boston.
But such a paper declaration, whether it extended
to the Nueces, the Rio Grande or the isthmus of
Panama, was evidently of no force unless success.
fully supported by arms. It was so supported,
and the authority of Texas was extended up to
the Nueces, but never beyond; and the effort to
carry Texas jurisdiction beyond, the Mier expe-
dition, was a pronounced failure. Nevertheless,
President Polk, in 1846, assumed authority to
order the American forces into the disputed ter-
ritory, and thus brought on the Mexican war.
(See WARs, W.) At the end of the war the fed-
eral government was in a most embarrassing posi-
tion. To acknowledge the full claims of Texas
would have been to add to her enormous territory
the present territory of Arizona, and a large part
of Kansas and Colorado; to deny them would
have been a confession that the whole nominal.
cause of the war was fraudulent. Feb. 11, 1850,
Texas formally reaffirmed her boundary of 1836.
Sept. 9 (see CoMPROMISES, V.), congress proposed
the following northern and western boundary for
Texas. latitude 36° 30' from longitude 100° west,
to longitude 103° west; thence due south to lati-
tude 32°; thence due west to the Rio Grande, and
down that river to the gulf of Mexico. Texas was
to cede all claims outside of the boundary to the
United States, and the United States to pay to
Texas $10,000,000 in 5 per cent. bonds, to run
fourteen years. Texas accepted the proposition,
Nov. 25, and, the boundary was settled. — The
joint resolution of March 1, 1845, consenting to
the annexation of Texas, stipulated that “new
states, of convenient size, not exceeding four in
number, in addition to the said state of Texas,
and having sufficient population, may hereafter,
by the consent of said state, be formed out of the
territory thereof.” Such consent was given by the
922
TEXAS.
convention of 1866, but was not made use of by
congress at the time. It is now practically im-
possible to obtain any such consent from the state;
and its size must remain undiminished until the
development of separate interests within it shall
produce a division naturally. — CoNSTITUTIONs.
The first constitution of the state was framed by
the convention at Austin, July 4 – Aug. 27, 1845,
which on its first day accepted the proposition of
annexation made by the United States. The senate
was to be chosen for four years, by districts; and
the representatives, chosen for two years, were
apportioned to the counties according to popula-
tion. The governor was to be chosen by popular
vote, to serve two years, but not to be eligible
more than two terms in succession. The capital
was to be Austin until 1850, and was then to be
fixed by popular vote. Judges of the supreme
court were to be appointed for six years, removable
on address of two-thirds of each house. The slavery
provisions of 1835 were retained; but trial by jury
was reserved to slaves accused of crimes of a higher
grade than petit larceny. The constitution was
ratified by popular vote Oct. 13, and the state was
admitted by joint resolution of Dec. 29, 1845. The
first legislature met Feb. 16, 1846, and the gov-
ernor was inaugurated three days after. Popular
vote in 1850 fixed the capital at Austin, where it
has since remained. — A convention at Austin,
Feb. 10 – April 2, 1866, amended the constitution
by substituting for the slavery provisions an ab-
olition of slavery. “African slavery, as it hereto-
fore existed, having been terminated within this
state by the government of the United States by
force of arms, and its re-establishment being pro-
hibited by the amendment to the constitution of
the United States.” By ordinances the rebel war
debt was repudiated, and the legislature was for-
bidden to assume or pay any part of it; the ordi-
nance of secession was declared null and void,
and “the right of secession, heretofore claimed
by the state of Texas, distinctly renounced *;
and consent was given to the division of the
state. The action of the convention was rati-
fied by a light popular vote, June 25. — A re-
construction convention at Austin, June 1 – Aug.
31, Dec. 7, 1868–IFeb. 6, 1869, framed a state
constitution, which was ratified by popular vote
.Now. 30 – Dec. 3, 1869. Its first section declared
its purpose to be “that the heresies of nullifica-
tion and secession, which have brought the coun-
try to grief, may be eliminated from future po-
litical discussion”; and to this end it declared
the constitution of the United States, and laws
and treaties made and to be made in pursuance
thereof, to be the supreme law. It abolished
slavery and forbade the importation of coolies;
gave the right of suffrage to males over twenty-
one, on one year's residence; made the number of
representatives ninety, and of senators thirty,
both to be chosen by districts; extended the term
of the governor to four years, of Supreme court
judges to nine years, and of district judges to
eight years. Persons disqualified to hold office by
the 14th amendment were disfranchised. The or-.
dinance of secession and the rebel war debt were:
declared null and void from the beginning. The
state was readmitted to representation by act of
March 30, 1870, on the fundamental condition that
the constitution should never be so amended as to .
deprive any class of citizens of the right of suf-
frage, of the right to hold office, or of school rights,
as there secured. — The present constitution was
framed by a convention at Austin, Sept. 6 – Nov.
24, 1875, and ratified by popular vote, Feb. 17,
1876. Its principal changes were the substitution
for the first section of a declaration that “ Texas.
is a free and independent state, subject only to the
constitution of the United States”; the change of
numbers to ninety-three in the house and thirty-
one in the Senate; the reduction of the governor's.
term to two years; and the provision of separate
schools for white and colored children, but with
impartial privileges to both. — Gover Nors. J. P.
Henderson, 1846–7; Geo. T. Wood, 1847–9; P. H.
Bell, 1849–53; Edward M. Pease, 1853–7; H. G.
Runnels, 1857–9; Sam Houston, 1859–61; Francis
B. Lubbock, 1861–3 Pendleton Murray, 1863–5;
A. J. Hamilton, military governor, 1865–6; J. W.
Throckmorton, 1866–7; Edward M. Pease, 1867–70; .
Edmund J. Davis, 1870–74; Richard Coke, 1874–6;.
Richard Hubbard, 1876–9; Oram M. Roberts,
1879–83. — POLITICAL HISTORY. Until the close-
of the rebellion, there was never any real opposi-
tion to the democratic party in the state. All the
governors, congressmen, United States Senators
and state officers were democrats. In 1856 the
popular vote for the Fillmore electors reached 33.
per cent. of the whole ; with this exception the
democratic popular vote in presidential elections.
was always during this period over 70 per cent.
of the whole. Even in local politics the extent of
the state's territory was an insurmountable obsta-
cle to the rise of any real political interest. Even
in 1861 there was very little political contest. The
opposition to the dominant secession party was.
merely a variety of secession feeling. It was rep-
resented by the governor, Houston, and desired
mainly the return of Texas to the position of an in-
dependent republic, and fresh acquisition of terri-
tory on the side of Mexico. With this design the
governor for some time refused to summon a spe-
cial session of the legislature for the purpose of
calling a convention. The confederate states par-
ty then issued a private call for a convention, to
meet Jan. 28, 1861; the governor yielded, and sum-
moned the legislature for Jan. 21; and that body
legitimatized the convention, stipulating that any
ordinance of secession should be submitted to
popular vote. The ordinance of secession was.
passed, Feb. 1, by a vote of 166 to 7, ratified
by a popular vote of 34,794 to 11,235, Feb. 23,
and went into effect March 2. The convention,
March 20, declared the seat of Gov. Houston.
vacant. March 23, the constitution of the confed-
erate states was ratified.— Until 1863 there was a
steady influx of slaves from other southern states;
after July 4, 1863, Texas and Louisiana were
THIRD ESTATE.
923.
isolated from the rest of the confederacy by the
opening of the Mississippi. The close of the rebell-
ion found Texas with an increased black and a
decreased white population. June 17, 1865, A. J.
Hamilton was appointed military governor, and
under his control the convention of 1866 was held
and the revised constitution adopted. . The “con-
servative,” or democratic, party nominated Gov.
Throckmorton, who was elected by 48,631 votes
to 12,051 for E. M. Pease, republican. The new
legislature, almost entirely democratic, refused to
ratify the 14th amendment, and requested the
withdrawal of federal troops from the state. In
1867 the reconstruction acts took effect. March
19, Maj. Gen. P. H. Sheridan took command of
the department.
dissatisfied with the state government, and re-
moved Gov. Throckmorton July 30, and most of
the other state officers Aug. 29, replacing them by
republicans. Aug. 29, Sheridan was superseded
by Gen. Hancock, who soon, came into collision
with the new governor, Pease. The latter dis-
trusted the state courts, and wished to have crimi-
nals tried by military commission, which Hancock
declined to allow. July 28, 1868, Gen. J. J.
Reynolds took command of the state. — The pro-
visions of the reconstruction acts for registration
and voting had reduced the democratic party to
a nullity. In the dominant party there were two
factions. The radical republicans, headed by E. J.
Davis, wished to maintain the disfranchisement
of ex-rebels, and to divide the state. The con-
servative republicans, headed by the former mili-
tary governor, Hamilton, opposed both of the lead-
ing features of the radical programme. The lat-
ter naturally received all the support which the
democrats could give them. The convention of
1868–9 was stormy throughout, and at its final
adjournment Davis and Hamilton became the
Opposing candidates for governor. Davis was
elected, and the radicals also obtained a plurality
in the legislature over both the conservatives and
the democrats. – The new legislature authorized
the governor, under specified conditions, to declare
martial law; and organized a state police force.
In 1870, during the sitting of the legislature, mar-
tial law was accordingly declared in three counties,
and on one of them a penalty of $50,000 was im-
posed and collected. The legislature protested
against this action; the democrats and conserva-
tives united to oppose it ; and in the autumn
elections they secured three of the state's four
congressmen. In 1873 the republican party of the
state was finally overthrown. For governor,
Richard Coke had 85,549 votes, and Davis 42,663,
and the democratic majorities for other officers
were equally heavy. Jan. 5, 1874, the state su-
preme court declared the law unconstitutional
under which the election had been conducted.
Gov. Davis therefore refused to give up his office,
and appealed to President Grant for federal troops
to support him. They were refused, for the reason
that the governor had signed the election law, had
run for office under it, and should now submit to
He almost immediately became.
the result of the election. He then desisted from
opposition. Since that time the state has been.
overwhelmingly democratic in all elections. In
1880 the vote for governor was 166,303 for Roberts,
democrat; 64,372 for Davis, republican; and 33,670.
for Hamman, greenbacker. In 1882 there were
twenty-nine democrats and two republicans in the
state Senate, and sixty-eight democrats, seven re-
publicans, six independents, and two greenbackers.
in the house. One of the state's six congressmen,
1879–83, is a democratic greenbacker. — Among
the political leaders of the state have been the fol-
lowing, all democrats unless otherwise specified :
Richard Coke, governor 1873–7, United States,
senator 1877–83; David B. Culberson, congressman
1875–83; Andrew J. Hamilton, congressman 1859–
61, military governor in 1862, provisional governor
1865–6; Morgan C. Hamilton (elder brother of the
preceding), radical republican United States senator
1870–77; John Hancock, district judge 1851–5, con-
gressman 1872–7; Sam Houston (see his name);
David S. Kaufmann, representative and senator
1839–45, congressman 1846–51; S. B. Maxey, con-
federate major general, and United States senator
1875–87; Roger Q. Mills, congressman 1873–83;
John H. Reagan, congressman 1857–61, confeder-
ate postmaster general 1861–5, congressman 1875–
83; Thos. J. Rusk, secretary of war of the repub-
lic 1836–8, chief justice 1838–42, and United States
senator 1846–56; Gustave Schleicher, congressman
1875–9; James W. Throckmorton, one of the seven
voters against secession in 1861, governor 1866–7,
congressman 1875–9; Lewis T. Wigfall, United
States senator 1860–61, confederate states Senator.
1862–5.—See authorities under ANNEXATIONS, III.
COMPROMISES, V. ; 2 Poore's Federal and State.
Constitutions, 2 Hough's American Constitutions;
Kennedy’s Rise and Progress of Tea as (1844); H. S.
Foote's Tea as and the Tea’ams (1841); Rankin’s.
Teacas &n 1850; Olmsted's Journey through Tea as:
(1857); De Cordova's Resources and Public Men of
Teacas (1858), 16 Democratic Review, 282 (the pres-
idents of Texas); Lester's Sam Houston and his
Republic, and review of it in 5 Whig Review, 566;
Yoakum's History of Tea'as (to 1846); Gouge's.
Fiscal History of Teacas (1852); Jones’ Official
Correspondence relating to the Republic of Tea as
(1859); Green's Evpedition against MŽer, Kendall’s
Tea'am Santa Fé Eagedition (1850); Smith's Rem-
Żniscences of the Tea as Republic (1876); Tewas Al-
7manac, 1873–5. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
THIRD ESTATE. The Tiers État in French
history. Few political pamphlets made so great
a noise as that published by the Abbé Siéyès.
in 1789, at the moment when France had elect-
ed the constituent assembly, and which can be:
summed up in the following terms : “What is.
the third estate 2 Everything. What has it been
in the political order up to the present moment 2.
Nothing. What does it ask 2 To be something.”.”
* The third edition of this pamphlet has this note :
“This work, written during les Wotables of 1788, was pub-
lished in the first days of January, 1789.
‘924
THIRD ESTATE.
There are three grave errors in these words. In
the France of 1789, the third estate was not every-
thing. In the political order previous to 1789, the
third estate, far from being nothing, was daily be-
coming greater and more powerful. What M.
Siéyès and his friends asked for it in 1789 was not
that it should become something, but that it
should be everything. That the third estate was
not everything is proved by the revolution of
1789, which was its victory. Whatever may have
been the weaknesses and faults of its opponents, it
had to struggle greatly to overcome them, and the
‘struggle was so violent that the third estate was
“decomposed in the struggle, and paid dearly for
the triumph which it won. Let the reader com-
pare to-day the pamphlet of the Abbé Siéyès with
the work of Juéonce de Lavergne on the provincial
assemblies under Louis XIV. (Assemblées pro-
winciales Sous Louis XIV.), and he will see in the
light of contemporary documents, that if the third
estate was not everything in 1789, it was much,
venough indeed to become free and preponderant
without destroying everything that was not the
third estate.
able resistance. The Abbé Siéyès did not tell all
that the third estate was in 1789, nor what its flat-
terers wished it might be. What his words con-
tain is not the truth of things, but a revolutionary
slie. — To take French history in its totality and
through all its phases, the third estate was the
most active and most decisive element in French
scivilization. Considered from the social point of
view, and in its relations with the various classes
which have lived together on French soil, what
has been called the third estate progressively ex-
tended and raised itself, and first greatly modified
and then decidedly rose above the others. If we
look from the political point of view, and follow
the third estate in its relations with the general
government of France, we shall find it at first an
cally during six centuries of royalty, laboring in-
•cessantly for the ruin of the feudal aristocracy,
and putting in its place a single power, a pure
monarchy, very near, in principle at least, to abso-
lute monarchy. But as soon as it gained this
victory and accomplished this revolution, the third ||
estate sought a new one ; it attacked the single
power which it had so much contributed to estab-
lish, and it undertook to change the pure mon-
archy into a constitutional one. Under whatever
aspect we may consider it, whether we study the
progressive formation of French society, or that
of its governments, the third estate is the most
persistent and most powerful of the forces which
presided over French civilization. — This fact is
unique in the history of the world. We recognize
in the destinies of the principal nations of Asia
and of ancient Europe, nearly all the great facts
which have agitated that of France; we find the
“mingling of various races, the conquest of one
Theople by another, profound inequalities between
classes, and frequent changes in the forms of gov-
vernment and the extent of power. But nowhere
do we see a class appear which, beginning in a very
Excessive pretension arouses intract-
effect of the conquest.
low estate, weak, despised, almost imperceptible
at its origin, rising by a continual movement and
laboring without interruption, gaining strength
from time to time, acquiring successively all that
it lacked, wealth, enlightenment, influence, power;
changes the nature of society, the nature of the
government, and at last becomes dominant to
such a degree that one may venture to call it the
country itself. More than once in the history of
the world the external phenomena of this or that
political society have been the same as these men-
tioned here, but the similarity is merely apparent.
In India, for example, foreign invasions, the pas-
Sage and settlement of various races on the same
soil, were frequently repeated; what was the re-
sult 2 The permanence of castes was not affected
thereby ; society remained divided into distinct
and almost immovable classes—no invasion of one
caste by another, no general abolition of the rule
of castes by the triumph of one of them. After
India take China : there also history shows many
conquests similar to those of Europe by the Ger-
mans; there also, more than Once, barbarous Con-
querors settled in the midst of a conquered people.
What was the result 2 The conquered almost ab-
sorbed the conquerors, and immobility remained
the ruling characteristic of the social condition. In
western Asia, since the invasion of the Turks, the
gulf between the victors and the vanquished could
not be bridged over; no class of society, no event
of history, had the power to abolish this first
In Persia similar events
have taken place; different races have struggled
and mingled; they attained nothing but invinci-
ble anarchy, which lasts for centuries without
change in the social condition of the country and
without a prospect of developing a civilization. —
Leaving Asia, we turn to Grecian and Roman
Europe. At the first glance, we seem to find some
analogy between the progress of these brilliant
societies and that of our own ; but the analogy is
merely apparent; there also we find nothing re-
sembling the third estate and its history. The
only fact which has appeared, to ingenious minds,
somewhat similar to the struggle of the bourgeoi-
sie of the middle ages against the feudal aristoc-
racy, is the struggle between the plebeians and
patricians of Rome; they have been sometimes
compared. The comparison is altogether false.
The struggle between the plebeians and patricians
of Rome commenced in the infancy of the repub-
lic; it was not, as in France in the middle ages,
the result of a slow, difficult and incomplete de-
velopment of a class for a long period, very much
inferior in power, in wealth and in credit, which
gradually grows in extent and prominence, and
at last engages in a real struggle with the highest
class in the state. Niebuhr has proved, in his
“History of Rome,” that the struggle of the ple-
beians against the patricians was a consequence,
and, as it were, a prolongation, of the war of con-
quest, the effort of the aristocracy of the cities
conquered by Rome to share in the rights of the
conquering aristocracy. The plebeian families
THIRD ESTATE.
925,
were the principal families of the conquered popu-
lations; placed, by defeat, in an inferior position,
they were none the less aristocratic families,
formerly powerful in their city, surrounded by
clients, and capable, from the first moment, of
disputing power with their conquerors. There
is nothing in this like that slow, obscure, pain-
ful labor of the modern bourgeoisie emancipat-
ing itself with great labor from the bonds of
servitude, or a condition bordering on servitude,
and employing centuries, not to dispute political
power, but to win a civil existence. The more we
examine the more we see that the French third es-
tate is a new fact in the history of the world, and
one which belongs exclusively to the civilization
of modern Europe. — Not only is this fact new,
but it has an altogether special interest for France.
Nowhere has the bourgeoisie, the third estate,
had a destiny so great, so fruitful, as that which
fell to it in France. There were communes in all
Europe, in Italy, in Spain, in Germany, in Eng-
land, just as in France. Not only were these
communes everywhere to be found, but the com-
munes of France were not those which, as com-
munes, played the greatest rôle in history under
that designation and in the middle ages. The
Italian communes gave birth to glorious republics;
the German communes became free sovereign
cities, which have had their own history, and exer-
cised much influence on the general history of
Germany. . The communes of England allied
themselves to a part of the feudal aristocracy,
and formed, together with it, the ruling house in the
British parliament; and in this way played, at an
early period, a powerful part in the history of
their country. The French communes, in their
period of activity under this name, were very far
from rising through such political importance to
this historical rank. And still it is in France
that the population, the communes, the bourgeoi-
sie, were developed most completely, most effi-
ciently, and ended by acquiring, in general Society,
the most decided preponderance. There have
been communes in all Europe; there was really
a third estate only in France; and the revolution
of 1789, surely the greatest of European revolu-
tions, was the work of the third estate. — Since
the outbreak and through all the vicissitudes,
liberal or illiberal, of that mighty event, it is a
commonplace unceasingly repeated, that there are
no longer any classes in French Society, but sim-
ply a nation of thirty-seven millions of persons.
If it is meant by this that there are no longer
privileges in France, that is to say, special laws or
particular rights for certain families, certain es-
tates, or certain occupations, and that legislation
is the same, and movement perfectly free for all
through all the degrees of the social scale, it is
true; unity of legislation and similarity of rights
are the essential and characteristic feature of civil
society in France; an immense and excellent fact,
new in the history of human Societies. But under
the rule of this fact, within this national unity and
civil equality, there exist evident diversities, nu-
merous and considerable inequalities, which the:
unity of legislation, and the similarity of civil
rights neither prevent nor destroy. Among own-
ers of real or movable property, land, or capital,
there are rich and poor; there are large, medium
and small landowners. The great landowners may
be less numerous and less, wealthy, the medium,
and small may be more numerous and more power-
ful than formerly; that does not prevent the differ-
ence from being real, and great enough to create,
in the social order, Gonditions, profoundly differ-
ent and unequal. In the professions called lib--
eral, which live by their science and intelligence;
among lawyers, physicians, Scholars and literary
men of every kind; some risé, to the first rank,
attract business and success, acquire fame, wealth
and influence; others, satisfy the wants of their
families and the demands; of their position with
difficulty; others yet vegetate obscurely in distress,
almost without employment. In other walks of
life, in which labor is chiefly material and man-
ual, there are also varieties and inequalities of
condition: some, by intelligence and good con-
duct, accumulate capital, and, enter into paths of
ease and advancement; others, either unintelligent
or indolent or disorderly, remain, in the narrow
and precarious conditions, of existence depending
on wages alone. In all the extent of French civil
society, in the midst of labor as well as property,
the diversity and inequality of conditions appear,
or continue, and co-exist with the unity of legis-
lation and the similarity of rights. – How could
it be otherwise? Let all human societies be ex-
amined, in all places and times: whatever be the
variety of their origin, of their organization, of
their government, of their extent, of their dura-
tion, of the kinds or degrees of their civilization,
three types of social condition will be found in
them all, always the same in essence: 1, men liv-
ing from the income of their landed or movable.
property, from land or capital, without seeking to
increase it by their own assiduous labor; 2, men
occupied in working and increasing by their own
assiduous labor, real or personal property, land or
capital, which they possess; 3, men living by their
daily labor, without income from land or capital.
And these diversities, these inequalities in the
social condition of men, are not accidental facts,
or peculiar to a given age or country; they are:
universal facts produced naturally in every human
society, under circumstances and under laws dif.
ſering most widely from one another. — These
facts exist in our time and among the French, as
they have in other times and places. Modern so-
ciety in France includes, and will not cease to in-
clude, social situations profoundly different and
unequal, whether they be termed classes or not.
What redounds to its honor is this, that privilege.
and immobility are no longer attached to this.
diversity of conditions; that there are no longer,
among Frenchmen, special advantages legally
granted to some, and inaccessible to others; that
all paths to advancement are open and free to all;
that personal merit and labor have, in the career
926 TILDEN.
TONQUIN.
of men, an infinitely greater part than was theirs
formerly. The third estate of the old régime ex-
ists no longer; it has disappeared in its victory
over privilege and absolute power; its heirs in
modern society are the middle classes, as they are
called to-day; but these classes, inheriting the con-
quests of the third estate, hold them on new con-
ditions as natural as they are imperative. To
protect their own interest, as well as to perform
their public duty, they must be both conservative
and liberal ; they must, on the one hand, attract
and rally to their standard the remnants of the
upper social circles which have survived the fall
of the old régime, and, on the other, accept fully
the upward movement which the whole people are
taking. Nothing could be more natural than that
the third estate of the ancient régime in its inter-
course with the aristocratic classes was, and long
remained, uneasy, suspicious, jealous, even envi-
ous; it had rights to obtain and conquests to make;
to-day the conquests are made, the rights are
recognized, proclaimed, exercised; the middle
classes have no longer a motive for disquiet or
envy; they may rely on their dignity and their
power. With respect to the lower classes, their
situation is not less happy; no barrier separates
them from the higher; who can say where the
middle classes begin, and where they end ? They
were formed in the name of the principles of
common rights and general liberty; they are re-
cruited, and draw new forces continually from
the sources whence they came. To maintain the
common rights and liberty of all, against the
retrograde follies of absolute power and privilege,
on the one hand, and, on the other, against the
mad pretensions of leveling and anarchy, is now
the two-fold mission of the middle classes, and
is for them the sure means of retaining pre-
ponderance in the state, in the name of the inter-
ests of all, of which they are the truest and most
efficient representatives. (Compare BOURGEOISIE,
SOCIALISM.) GUIZOT.
TIE. (See PARLIAMENTARY L.A.W.)
TILDEN, Samuel Jones, was born in New
Lebanon, Columbia county, N. Y., Feb. 9, 1814.
He spent a year at Yale, was graduated at New
York university in 1838, was admitted to the bar
in 1841, and in 1845 was elected to the assembly.
There he took sides with the radical wing of the
democratic party, the barnburners (see that title);
but when they were forced into national politics
as the free-soil party, he retired to the practice of
the law. He was little heard of in politics until
after the rebellion was suppressed, when he became
chairman of the democratic state committee. In
this position he came into flat antagonism with
the Tweed ring of New York city in 1869–70, and
took a leading part in the ring's overthrow in 1871.
In 1874 he was elected governor by the democrats,
and in this position attacked and overthrew the
canal ring of western New York in 1875. He had
now become so widely and favorably known that
N. Y., June 11, 1825.
in 1876 his party nominated him for president.
It was finally decided (see ELECTORAL COMMIS-
SION) that he had received but 184 out of 369
electoral votes, and was not elected. His sup-
porters have never accepted this decision as mor-
ally binding, and have always insisted, that, if
Hayes was president de facto, Tilden was president
de jure ; that the commission’s conclusion was
reached by so applying legal rules as to exclude
necessary testimony; and that the action of the
returning boards was so confessedly corrupt that
the commission did not dare to examine it. Some
one, during the pendency of the case, seems to
have concluded that the returning boards were so
corrupt that there would be no moral wrong in
bribing them to act correctly; and the congres-
sional committee, the so-called “Potter commit-
tee,” which afterward investigated the election,
discovered a great mass of cipher telegrams, which,
when deciphered, proved to be negotiations for the
purchase of the returning boards. Mr. Tilden
denied all knowledge of any such negotiations;
but, though none of the telegrams were traced
directly to him, all of them were fathered upon
persons so nearly connected with him, by mar-
riage or close political confidence, that the whole
affair has proved an insuperable barrier to Mr.
Tiden's further career. To the standing demo-
cratic charge that he had been defrauded of his
election, it enabled the republicans to reply that
he had only failed in the effort to defraud Hayes
of his election. Both parties were thus content
to argue from their own premises; and neither ven-
tured to bring the counter-charges to a direct issue
in 1880 by renominating the candidates of 1876.
See Cook's Life of Tºlden ; Proceedings of the
Electoral Commission, 125 Worth American Review,
1, 193(Black's and Stoughton's articles); 27 Nation,
217, 250. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
TIMES-SPIRIT, The. (See ZEITGEIST.)
TOMPKINS, Daniel D., vice-president of the
United States 1817–25, was born at Searsdale,
N. Y., June 21, 1774, and died on Staten Island,
He was graduated at
Columbia in 1795, was admitted to the bar in
1797, was state supreme court justice 1804–7, and
democratic governor of the state 1807–17. His
service as governor was marked by great sacrifices
of his personal credit in maintaining the federal
government during the war of 1812. He thus be-
came so deeply involved in debt that the latter
part of his life was passed most unhappily. See
1, 2 Hammond’s Political History of New York
(index); Jenkins’ Lives of the Governors of New
York, 159. A. J.
TON-KIN. (See TonquTN.)
TONQUIN (Tong-KING or TUN-KIN). This
northern province of the empire of Annam, in the
Indo-Chinese peninsula, occupying the lower basin
of the Hong-kiang (Red river) derives its geo-
TONQUIN.
927
graphical and commercial importance from its
“easy access into the rich Chinese province of Yun-
nan. The Hong-kiang is practically a navigable
stream, and the three southern provinces of China,
Rwang-tung, Kwang-si and Yunnan border on
Tonquin, which has a coast sufficiently accessible.
Added to these advantages, its salubrity, and its
resources of grain, timber and the precious metals,
make it a most desirable acquisition for a Euro-
pean power anxious to extend its possessions in
the east, or to magnify abroad prestige lost at
home. The most valuable part of Tonquin is the
delta near the sea formed by the four mouths of
the Red river, near or in which are situated the
chief towns of the province. These are Ha-noi,
the capital, Nin-hai, Hai-phong, Bac-nin, Nam-
bin and Min-bin. The climate is much healthier
than in the two lower provinces of Annam, Cochin
China or Saigon, the thermometer in December
falling to 41°. The season from April to August
is intensely hot, and the heavy rains are accom.
panied by storms and typhoons, when the Red
river overflows its banks, and spreads a fertilizing
flood over the country, which afterward produces
heavy crops of rice and other cereals. The delta
is intersected by a multitude of watercourses both
natural and artificial. The chief exports are rice,
:Sugar, cotton, spices and varied tropical products,
but the manufactures are restricted mainly to
gongs and articles inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
In religion, the mass of the natives are devotees
to a form of Buddhism much corrupted by local
superstitions; the literati are Confucianists. Their
language, reduced to writing by the French mis-
isionaries, is a dialect of archaic Chinese, purely
monosyllabic, and with a very limited range of
articulation, depending for its variety upon tones,
which modify and multiply the meanings of each
vocable. In ethnology, the Tonquinese are de-
scendants of tribes of southern China, that are
mentioned in the ancient chronicles as people with
the big toe noticeably large. They have a well-
marked physiognomy and anatomical structure,
in which personal beauty or grace of movement
is not conspicuous. Until about the tenth cent-
ury Of Our era, Tonquin (Chinese, tong, east, and
king, capital, eastern capital; the name of the
chief city, in distinction from Si-king, or western
capital of Cochin China) was ruled by princes
or governors of Chinese origin, but since 960 A. D.
the country has been practically independent,
though ever acknowledging China as suzerain,
and regularly paying tribute. Tonquin, until near
the close of the eighteenth century, was the dom-
inant state of the Annamese empire, but since
that time, it has formed one of its three great
political divisions, and the dynasty founded in
1803 A. D. by Gya-long by French assistance
reigns still at Hué, in Cochin China, the central
state. — Christianity was first introduced by refu-
gees from Japan as early as 1615, and in 1624 the
French Jesuit priests began proselyting labors,
Which, with assistance later from Spanish Do-
minicans and French Lazarists, have, in spite
of numerous bloody persecutions resulted in a
roll of converts numbering, in 1854, 500,000. Se-
vere persecutions since that time have greatly
reduced these figures. The murder of several
French priests and a Spanish bishop led to the
Franco-Spanish intervention of 1858. During the
century, of intercourse with France, these vari-
ous “revolts' of the Annamese and subsequent
negotiations have usually resulted in the gain
of fresh slices of land and new commercial priv-
ileges. France sends her Jesuits, or secular
priests, first, and the brandy and “civilization."
follow at the cannon’s mouth. The treaty of
1874 gained her the six southern provinces of
Cochin China, opened the port of Ha-noi, in Ton-
quin, to foreign trade, and guaranteed free transit
from the sea to Yunnan. As usual with Euro-
pean powers in dealing with Asiatic nations, the
French compelled the acceptance of their tariff;
and custom house officers were duly installed at
Haiphong and Ha-noi (called also Ke-cho, or
the market). Owing to the unsettled state of the
interior, caused by the ravages of the “Black
Flags”—whether allies, invaders, or paid mercena-
ries of Annam, does not clearly appear—the Red
river was not opened even in 1882, seven years
after the treaty, and even the French settlement at
Ha-noi was in danger. As a precautionary meas-
ure, the Saigon authorities dispatched re-enforce-
ments to their nationals at the capital of Tonquin.
The local mandarins, interpreting this as a menace,
closed the Ha-noi citadel, and concentrated their
forces. The French, taking alarm, resolved to
precipitate the crisis, and on April 23, 1882, began
to bombard the citadel (which, nearly a hundred
years before, had been laid out by French engi-
neers), and carried it on the 26th by assault. They
then proceeded to administer the custom house
for the benefit of the French treasury. Mean-
while China had not been an indifferent spectator
of French aggression carried on under cover of
protecting her citizens. When the treaty of 1874
was communicated to China and the other powers,
the government of Peking protested against its pro-
visions as an invasion of her suzerain rights, and
formally gave notice that Annam was still her
vassal, and whatever affected her international
relations was of deep concern to the Chinese gov-
ernment. Since her reconquest of Ili, or Chinese
Turkestan, which secured its formal retrocession
from Russia, China has reaffirmed and in Some
cases enforced her ancient claim of suzerainty
upon her vassals. That over Corea and Riu Kiu
as against Japan, and perhaps the United States,
in the case of Corea, is still unsettled. But her
interest in Annam, both as neighbor and tributary,
as manifested by military preparations, was SO
great, that the French evacuated the citadel at
Ha-noi, though they fortified their settlement.
In making a sortie May 24, 1883, the French com-
mander, Riviere, and a number of his men were
killed. The government at Paris at once resolved
that France would “revenge her glorious chil-
dren,” and on May 26 declared war against China's
928
TRANSPORTATION.
vassal. (See also RIU KIU, and CoCHIN CHINA.)
—LITERATURE. Crawfurd’s Embassy to the Courts
of Siam and Cochin China, 1828; Garnier's Voyage
d'Euploration en Indo-Chine, etc., Paris, 1873; Lu-
ro's Pays d'Annam, Paris, 1878; Deveria's Histoire
des Relations de la Chine avec Annam - Vietnam,
Paris, 1880; The French in Tong-king, The Con-
temporary Review, Nov., 1882; England and
France in Indo-China, The National Review,
June, 1883; Colquhoun’s Across Chrysé, London
and New York, 1883, etc. - - -
W.M. ELLIOT GRIFFIS.
TRANSPORTATION, Means of 1. History.
The Romans had an admirable system of roads,
and a highway legislation not unlike that now
prevailing in France. . But in the middle ages
both the roads and the law were suffered to decay.
Such ways as there were formed part of the prop-
erty through which they ran; and when the own-
ership passed into the hands of a feudal lord, he
obtained property rights over the road. But as
the central government grew in power in various
states of Europe, from the sixteenth to the eight-
eenth century, it also laid claims to rights over
the roads; first in the form of a right to levy tolls;
much later in undertaking to build roads, and
maintain them under its own control. Through-
out the continent the road taxes were oppressive
and the highways extremely bad; in this last re-
spect there was some slight improvement in the
eighteenth century. A thorough reform was in-
stituted in France by the revolutionary legisla-
tion, culminating in the decree of 1811, and fur-
ther systematized in 1836, providing for public
roads free from tolls, and supported by the nation,
department or commune, according to the sphere
of their importance. Similar legislation was car-
ried out during the same period in other parts of
the continent. In England the course of events
had been different. The roads had always been
recognized as the king's highways. They were
maintained by the parishes under parliamentary
legislation. (For details see “Edinburgh Review,”
April, 1864.) The experiment of tolls was cau-
tiously tried; turnpike trusts were introduced at
the beginning of the last century with tolerable
success. The important acts of parliament in the
present century have been those of 1835 and 1862;
by the latter the care of roads has been in many
cases taken out of the hands of individual par-
ishes and made the subject of the united action of
much larger districts. The early American sys-
tem was modeled upon that of England—especial-
ly so in New England; in other parts of the coun-
try the county controlled the roads, even when
they were maintained by separate communities.
Turnpikes were first organized about the end of
the last century. They had much more the char-
acter of private enterprises than in England, al-
though public bodies often subscribed to the stock.
This system was developed throughout the north;
south of the Potomac it took no root. (For a
variety of details see American State Papers, xx.,
866–915.) National appropriations for roads date:
from the beginning of the century. The chief
work of this kind was the Cumberland road; for
the expenditures on this and other projects see
Am. State Papers, xxi., and House Committee
Report, 1835–6, III., 850. The crisis of 1837 put
a stop to most of this work; and the subsequent
development of railways caused it to be forgotten.
— For a detailed history of canals and railways,
see the articles under those headings. In a sys-
tem of internal navigation — canals, combined.
with river improvements—France took the lead.
The development of the canal system in England.
and America was almost simultaneous with that
of turnpike roads. In England the most impor-
tant canals were built toward the close of the last
century; they were the result of private enter-
prise far more than were the turnpikes. The
period of canal building in America was a genera-
tion later, the first third of the present century.
In railroad building England, of coirse, took the
lead, followed by Belgium and Germany. Most
of the continental governments would have pre-
ferred to develop their railways as state concerns,
after the analogy of their roads; but from the
financial burdens which this would involve they
shrank either at the outset (Prussia), or before the
system was carried through (Austria and many
others). Only in France was the analogy tolerably
well maintained, at least as regards the matter of
railroad construction. England and America were:
of course hampered by no such precedents. –We
have thus far spoken of means of transportation:
only in the narrower sense of ways or roads over
which the goods must pass. The transportation
agencies yet remain to be considered. As long as
these were but the individual cart and ship, their
consideration might be neglected; but in their
modern organization as express company, steam-
ship company, postoffice, telegraph company, Or,
above all, railroad company in its relation as car-
rier, they form the all-important part of our sub-
ject. Most of these have been treated under sep-
arate headings, so that we need not enter into
their origin and history. The railway appears
under a double aspect as road and as agency.
Many mistakes of public policy were at first made-
by treating it after the analogy of a highway pure
and simple. It may be considered either as a
road operated solely by a particular company, Or
as a company having sole right to operate a par-
ticular road. The same distinction may be made
with the telegraph; but it is in that case obvious-
ly of less importance. — 2. Economic Results of
Improvement in means of Transportation. The
direct results have been at once increase in rapid-
ity and decrease in expense. In the history of
each separate means of transportation these two
changes have gone hand in hand. Take, in the
matter of roads, the French statistics, which are:
in more available form than those of other Coun-
tries. If we compare the returns of the Swiftest.
public means of conveyance on the main French
roads in 1782, 1832 and 1848, respectively, we find.
TRANSPORTATION.
929
that the average speed had more than doubled in
the first interval, and had increased by one-third
in the second interval; while the prices per kilo-
metre were, at the respective dates, 4 cts., 3} cts.,
34 cts. of our money. And this reduction is the
more remarkable because of the increase of gen-
eral prices going on at the same time. Even
where the tolls seemed to increase, as with the
English turnpike system, the amount saved by
diminished wear and tear, increased loads, etc.,
really produced the same result of lowering the
cost of carriage. So in the canal system of differ-
ent countries; as the facilities were improved, not
merely was there a diminution of the traction ex-
penses on that ground, but there was also usually
a gradual abandonment of the attempt to make
the tolls pay interest on what the canals had orig-
inally cost. In the case of the transportation
agencies, the facts are still more striking. To
take an instance from the history of shipping: By
the study of the prevailing winds, systematized
by Maury about the middle of this century, the
speed of sailing vessels on many frequented
routes was nearly doubled, and the expense of
carriage thereby greatly diminished. Fifty years
of constant improvement in postal facilities have
been marked by a reduction of postal charges to
less than one-fifth what they were at the beginning.
There has been the same kind of improvement
and reduction in the steamship and railway serv-
ice. —When it comes to the substitution of one
means of transportation for another—steam in-
stead of sail, railways instead of waterways—the
progress is less direct. We generally find in the
first instance increased rapidity secured at an ad-
vanced price; then the price begins to diminish,
and ultimately may fall below that of the more
primitive means of conveyance. When ocean
steamships were first introduced, it was not sup-
posed that they could ever compete with sail for
the carriage of ordinary freight, even on the most
frequented routes. The first indications of real
competition being felt in this respect were the un-
successful efforts to employ sailing vessels with
the auxiliary screw. Then came the gradual with-
drawal of sail from the business on shorter routes
with the most regular communication, to ply on
the longer and less frequented ones. But each
improvement in Ocean steamers gives an addition-
al advantage in competition and diminution in the
cost of carriage. The substitution of the screw
for the side-wheel, the use of compound engines,
are sources of unmixed saving; the enormous
increase in the size of the steamers, even when
they are run in a manner that seems to involve
extravagant waste of coal, increases the net carry-
ing capacity yet more; SO that the amount of coal
burned per ton carried is under favorable circum-
stances least on the new boats. The excess of
freight rates by steamers, as compared with those
by sail, varies from 100 per cent. down to almost
nothing: essentially the same relation as subsists
between railroads and directly competing canals.
— Railroads, soon after their first introduction,
178 VOL. III. — 59
proved themselves more than a match for any com-
petition from wagon roads; and things have now
gone on so far, that, according to the census re-
turns of 1880, the five to ten mills which it gen-
erally costs the farmer to haul a bushel of wheat
a mile by wagon, is a higher rate than he has
to pay per ton per mile by railroad. Or, to put
the same results in another way: in most of the
wheat regions it would not pay to grow grain
which had to be hauled twenty miles by wag-
on; in some regions the limit of wagon hauling
is as low as ten miles. But the competition be-
tween railroads and canals has taken shape more
slowly. It was at first thought to be impossi-
ble on any terms; and great was the indigna-
tion of the New York legislature when the Cen-
tral railroad first attempted it as against the Erie
canal. Then came the gradual abandonment of
the attempt to make canals pay interest on their
construction expense; and this seemed constantly
to keep them beyond the reach of railway compe-
tition on those terms. But the successive railroad
improvements, both in engineering and in manage-
ment, culminating in the wonderful substitution
of steel rails for iron, and the enormously in-
creased loads thus rendered possible, have pro-
duced such astonishing results in the past fifteen
years, that no one would venture to predict what
might’ come in fifteen years more. Since 1870,
along with the great improvements in efficiency of
service, freight rates have fallen as much as 50 per
cent., and the end of the movement does not seem
to be yet reached. — The indirect results of these
changes are so far-reaching that we can do little
more than enumerate them. The most immediate
effect of cheapened transportation is to increase
the distance at which it is possible for producer
and consumer to deal with One another. To the
producer it offers a wider market, and to the con-
sumer more varied sources of supply. Which
party obtains the chief benefit of the change is
determined by the special conditions of each par-
ticular case. On the whole, its operation is more
uniformly beneficial to the consumers, as a class,
because its temporary advantage for the producers
so often leads to over-production. But, in any
event, it results in doing away with a large part of
the variations in price between different localities.
The price is made, not in a local market, but in
the world’s markets. In the case of less bulky
manufactured products, these differences almost
disappear, except as they are due to artificial ob-
structions. In agricultural products, they are On
a vastly smaller scale than ever before. And not
the least important point where this leveling effect
is felt, is in the rent of agricultural land in Eng-
land, and similarly organized countries. Nearness
to market was not long ago a main advantage of
high-priced land; now it has to contend on toler-
ably equal terms with competing land five thou-
sand miles away.—To comprehend the full mean-
ing of this change, we have only to look at books
on industrial organization, published in the early
part of this century. The limits from which a
*
930
TRANSPORTATION.
large city could draw its various supplies were
closely defined by distance. Fresh vegetables and
fruits could only be produced for it within the
narrowest circle; and successive circles of ground
were almost necessarily devoted to different prod-
ucts, according to their different availability for
transportation. Now, any improvement by which
products could be profitably transported to a great-
er distance, led to a redistribution. It was no
longer location which determined the business to
be carried on in a particular spot, but natural ad-
vantages more or less independent of location.
The market garden might be placed at a greater
distance from the city, if by So doing a more fer-
tile spot was secured. The factory might be lo-
cated far away from the raw material, if other
business inducements made it desirable. In short,
the whole system of division of labor advanced to
a new stage. Not only was each man employed
for what he could do best, but he was given a
chance to work in the place where he could do it
best. And this change made itself strongly felt
in international relations. Even the barriers raised
by high protective tariffs hardly avail to counter-
act the effect of reduced freights. It is perfectly
possible that a country with a high tariff to-day
should be less isolated by this than it would have
been a few years ago by the mere cost of trans-
portation with no tariff at all.
and the steamship that determine where a new
business shall be developed, quite as often as the
government policy. The grant of special rates
and privileges to shippers is nowadays the most ef-
ficient kind of protection. It is this quickening
and cheapening of transportation that have given
such stimulus in the present day to the growth of
large cities. It enables them to draw cheap food
from a far larger territory, and it causes business
to locate where the widest business connection is
to be had, rather than where the goods or raw ma-
terials are most easily procured. And the perfec-
tion of the means of communication, the postof-
fice and the telegraph, intensifies the same result.
With this growth of city life, and partly in con-
sequence of it, comes the increased gain of large
producers at the expense of small producers. With
it comes organized speculation, and its attendant
results, good and evil; with it comes the develop-
ment of enormous wealth in the hands of a few
individuals, not to speak of the less distinctively
economic results which attend the life of a great
city. —3. State Control. It is just because these
indirect results are so far-reaching that the ques-
tion of government control of transportation agen-
cies has attained its present importance. In the
earlier systems, all this settled itself. The par-
ishes, towns or counties took up the matter of
roads, because it had become a pressing want, and
there was no other power to supply it. If a pri-
vate company was ready to build a turnpike, its
help was welcome, and there was no fear of its
becoming too great a power in the community.
Again, in the very different case of the postoffice,
the matter was taken up by the state, partly as a
*
It is the railroad
source of revenue, partly as a means of making
its presence and authority felt; not on broader
grounds of public policy, as a protection to the
citizen against the imposition of less responsible
agencies. The navigation act of 1651, whatever
its defects, has the merit of being the first sys-
tematic attempt to control a branch of transporta-
tion on grounds of public policy, looking toward
its indirect economic and social effects. For some
time it remained almost the only one; the systems
of roads and canals formed but local or partial
exceptions. But, about the year 1840, the simul-
taneous development of the postal service, the tel-
egraph and the railroad, made it necessary for the
state to assume some definite attitude upon the
question of management or control of these agen-
cies. The postoffice presented the fewest difficul-
ties. The machinery was in the hands of the
government, the people were accustomed to its
working; it was only in a subordinate section of
the business, the parcels post, that there was really
any doubt, and there it was settled on grounds of
convenience, or left to settle itself for the time be-
ing with the liability of change afterward. The
matter was not so clear in the case of the tele-
graph; state management would require new ex-
penditure, and a new organization, involving
many officials. But it was decided affirmatively
throughout the continent of Europe; and Eng-
land, after trying private telegraphy for a long
time, changed to a system of government owner-
ship in 1869; so that the United States has for fif-
teen years stood almost alone in this matter. It
was the question of state railroads that involved
the most doubt; and it is the harder to trace its
exact history from the fact that so many states had
no thoroughly fixed policy on the subject. The
general course of events in continental Europe
may be summarized as follows: In the first in-
stance, the governments were in favor of state
railroads, and proposed to develop such a system;
afterward they felt the financial difficulties of the
undertaking, and turned their attention to the en-
couragement of private enterprise in this field by
various forms of subsidy; then, thirdly, as the
railroad power became established, they found it
no longer a question of supporting, but of Con-
trolling, it; and, finally, they came to look upon
state railroads as a source of financial strength,
rather than weakness, and to return to their orig-
inal plan of state ownership. In the United States
we have felt only the second and third of these
periods; and in neither case has our general policy
been so fixed as in Europe. We had a time of in-
discriminate encouragement of railroads by land
grants and municipal subscription; we are having
a time of indiscriminate attempts at control by
special legislation in various states. England
alone has been free from these strong changes of
public policy; whatever encouragement or con-
trol there has been was confined within the nar-
rowest limits. – Any attempt to do justice to
the arguments on either side is quite beyond the
scope of an article like this; and we conclude
TRANSPORTATION.
931
this part of the subject by quoting from two
writers, representing quite different views, their
opinions as to when state ownership of transpor-
tation agencies is desirable. —The first is from
Ad. Wagner, of Berlin, a decided advocate of
state management; he considers that there are
strong reasons for it, 1, when the efficiency of the
service requires wide and uniform extension over
the whole country and international communica-
tions (postoffice, telegraph ; somewhat less so in
the case of railroads); 2, when the service in-
volves anything like a monopoly, legal or actual
(railroads, telegraphs); 3, when it requires constant
repetition of the same services, according to fixed
schedules, in such numbers as to involve the ex-
istence of a large body of officials; 4, when the
cost may be lessened by combining a variety of
services at small stations (letter and parcels post,
railroad stations and telegraph offices); 5, when
the service in private management can only be
secured by subsidies on a large scale; 6, when it
is necessary on grounds of public policy that the
service should inure uniformly to the benefit of
the whole people. These principles, he concludes,
enable us to speak decisively in favor of state
management in the case of letter post and tele-
graph, more reservedly in the case of parcels post
and railways; in the matter of navigation they
justify it only in exceptional cases. On the other
hand, W. Stanley Jevons, writing an impartial
opinion, but as an Englishman, averse to great
extension of government activity, states the con-
ditions favorable to state management as follows
(“Meth. of Soc. Reform,” p. 279): “1, when
numberless wide-spread operations can only be
efficiently connected, united and co-ordinated in
a single, all-extensive government system; 2,
when the operations possess an invariable routine-
like character; 3, when they are performed under
the public eye or for the service of individuals
who will immediately detect or expose any failure
or laxity; 4, where there is but little capital ex-
penditure, so that each year's revenue and expense
account shall represent, with sufficient accuracy,
the real commercial conditions of the depart-
ment.” Of these principles the fourth is one of
the highest practical importance, which must be
considered in discussing any schemes of state
management; and one which under a government
like that of the United States at present, must
generally be decisive. — 4. Principles of Manage-
ment; Rates. Transportation agencies in private
hands will of course be managed on business
principles, that is, they will charge all the traffic
will bear. It seems at first sight as if non-com-
petitive points were thus left entirely at the mercy
of railroad managers. Practically, however, this
danger is checked by two important limitations.
In the first place, the competition of different
localities in the same market" is such that if one
railroad charges rates arbitrarily higher than its
competitors, it renders it impossible for the locali-
ties along its route to ship goods at a profit, and
will quickly destroy its own traffic ; secondly, ex-
orbitant rates may induce the building of a paral-
lel railroad; and however ineffective such roads
generally prove after they are built, the prospect
of one in the future has the tendency to keep
rates down. Moreover—though this is but an in-
direct consideration—such local rates are almost
entirely paid out of rent, and show their chief
effect in the value of real estate. The dangerous
kind of discrimination, and one which can not be
too strongly reprehended, is that which makes
special rates for different individuals, doing the
same kind of business in nearly the same place.
Such discrimination furnishes the most effective
argument in favor of some kind of state control.
At points where a railroad competes with a water
route or with another railroad, through rates may
fall as low as the actual cost of hauling, apart from
any fixed charges, or, in the case of a war with
rates, may temporarily go even lower. But wars
of rates do not give shippers the advantage which
might seem likely to accrue. They lead to what
has been described as the worst form of discrimi-
nation, that between different individuals in the
same place. They cripple the efficiency of thea
service, and the possibility of healthy competition.
Take as an extreme case of a similar effect, the
routes from California to Nevada, where the rail-
ways came in competition with wagon roads.
They lowered their rates until the teams were
driven out of the service, and then raised them to
a monopoly figure. The ordinary railroad war
does not go so far as this, but it works in the
same direction. The history of the different at-
tempts to control this matter by enforced publicity
of management, direct provisions concerning, or
limitations of dividends, with their varying suc-
cess, does not come within the scope of this article.
The principles here applied to railroads of course
hold good of other transportation agencies. – But
in the case of state management, the rates need not
bethus arranged on purely business principles. The
state has the choice of four systems: 1, gratui-
tous service; 2, payment of expenses, partial or
complete ; 3, business profits; 4, monopoly rates
as a source of special revenue. The fourth of
these was the prevailing view up to the end of
the last century; it has since been abandoned.
The first is now mainly exemplified in the case of
roads, and some few waterways, where the want
and use are so general, and the expense Compara-
tively so slight, that there is no injustice in taxing
the community to defray the cost of the Service.
Cases may also arise where the collection of tolls
produces so slight a revenue that the advantage
of free service to the community quite outweighs
it. Most of the free canal arguments COme un-
der this head. But for the great majority of in-
stances the choice is between the Second and third
principles; it is a question of tolls vs. profits.
Canals and letter post have been managed under
the former principle ; the telegraph stands on the
border line; while parcels post, railroads and
shipping, in so far as they have been owned by
the state, have been mainly managed as business
932
TREASON.
enterprises. The theoretical principle would seem
to be, that such agencies under state management
should just pay expenses. If they do more than
this, it may constitute an especially undesirable
tax. But the whole question is so complicated
with the problem of remunerating invested capi-
tal on the one hand, and of freeing the commu-
nity from the exactions of individuals on the oth-
er, that we can make little use of this principle.
Practically it may be said that the state undertakes
certain services, in transportation as well as else-
where, in which it would be impossible to obtain
a business profit at any rates (thus postal service
on unfrequented routes); and it undertakes others
where the main charges are so fixed that additional
use of the facilities is all but unattended with ad-
ditional cost (canals; letter carriage). In both of
these cases the principle of tolls has great advan-
tages. On the other hand, there are certain serv-
ices which the government performs in more or
less direct competition with private individuals,
as the parcels post or the railways of Belgium and
Germany; there are yet others whose acquisition
, has loaded the state with a special bonded debt,
or other fixed obligations. It is doubtful policy
for the state to assume ownership on these con-
ditions, especially the latter. But if matters are
in this condition the attempt to obtain profits
from the business seems to be generally the wisest
course, and often the only admissible one. — E.
Sax, Verkehrsmittel; Wagner, Finanzwissenschaft;
Foville, La Transformation des Moyens de Trans-
port. ARTHUR T. HADLEY.
TREASON (IN U. S. HISTORY). Under the
confederation there was no such legal offense as
treason against the United States, since there was
no such thing as allegiance to the United States.
(See ALLEGIANCE, I.) Treason and allegiance had
reference only to the state. A remnant of this
feeling made the definition of treason, when it was
first introduced into the convention of 1787, Aug.
6, consist in “levying war against the United
States, or any of them, and in adhering to the ene-
mies of the United States, or any of them.” The
clause was fully debated, Aug. 20, and changed to
its present form. (See CONSTITUTION, Art. III.,
§ 3.) But all the debaters professed themselves
dissatisfied with it. Gouverneur Morris acutely
pointed out the fact, that “in case of a contest
between the United States and a particular state,
the people of the latter must be traitors to one or
the other authority.” But a motion to give con-
gress the “sole’’ power to define the punishment
of treason was lost, five states voting for it, and
six against it. Seldom has the omission of a single
In this case.
word had more momentous effects.
it left to congress and the states, as almost all the
speakers acknowledged, a concurrent power to
punish for treason; and so it enabled a seceding
state to offer to its minority a choice between
treason against the state and treason against the
United States. Had the vote been six states to
five for the insertion of the word, the state Sov-
ereignty and secession arguments would hardly
have been worth the trouble of refuting. —Had
the constitution given to congress the “sole *
power to define the punishment of treason, the
states would have been remitted, for protection.
against such domestic disturbances as Dorr’s re-
bellion (see that title), to a simple law against sedi-
tious assemblages; and the protection would have
been efficient. As it is, most of the states have
inserted in their constitutions a provision that
“treason against the state of — shall consist.
only in levying war, etc.,” following the constitu-
tion of the United States. These provisions have
always been practically in nubibus : there has hard-
ly been a case of indictment for treason against a.
state, excepting the action of Rhode Island in the
Dorr case, and that came to nothing. But they
fostered the idea of allegiance to a state, and thus.
carried into secession the multitude who disliked
secession, but dreaded to commit treason against
the state. — At the end of the rebellion there were
no prosecutions for treason. It has been roundly
asserted that the reason for this was the conscious-
ness of the government of the United States that
it had been illegally suppressing a misnamed re-
bellion, that treason could only hold against a
state, and that Jefferson Davis and his associates
had committed no crime and engaged in no treason,
in any sense known to the constitution or its fram-
ers. Those who so argue forget that Mr. Davis,
at least, was no prisoner of war; that his surren-
der was unconditional and in a territory under
military occupation; and that, if there had been
any such impotent spite against him as this the-
ory assigns to the government, a drum head court
martial and a file of men would quickly have
made it patent, treason or no treason. The fact.
seems to be that his escape was due entirely to
lack of spite. The collapse of the rebellion had
been too complete to allow of spite. The nation
stood aghast as it realized the thoroughness of its
work; and its controlling impulse was to efface
as rapidly as possible all evidences of the conflict.
Treason trials would have been a festering sore in
the body politic, and they were avoided. — There
can be no doubt that this policy was just, as well
as wise. For seventy years before 1860, men who
did not realize the full force of what they said had
been boasting of the “voluntary’ nature of the
union, in contrast with the effete despotisms of
Europe. (See NATION.) The nation’s long laches
in asserting its paramount authority in the last
resort gave Jefferson Davis and his associates
an exemption from the animus of treason which
can never be claimed again. All men have now
had fair warning, as Jefferson Davis had not
in 1860, that the Union is not “voluntary,” so
long as the nation is determined to maintain it;
and that any attempt to break it up is treason
to the United States, even if it is obedience to a
state. It might be that a future rebellion would
be suppressed with a similar generous forbearance
from ultimate vengeance; but the chance is an
uncommonly Small one. — The act of April 30,
TREASURY DEPARTMENT.
933
1790, made death the penalty for treason, as de-
fined in the constitution, on conviction by “con-
fession in open court, or on the testimony of two
witnesses to the same overt act.” It also made
fine and imprisonment the punishment of mis-
prision of treason, the concealment of it. For
seventy years this act was sufficient. There were
few trials under it, the principal one being that of
Burr (see his name); and these were practically
failures. In 1861 an act was passed making con-
spiracy to oppose the laws or seize the property
of the United States a high crime, but this was
punishable only by fine and imprisonment. The
act of July 17, 1862, provided, that, if any person
should thereafter Commit the crime of treason
against the United States, his slaves, if any,
should be declared free, and he himself should
suffer death, or fine and imprisonment, at the dis-
cretion of the court ; that any one convicted
should forever be incapable of holding office un-
der the United States; and that it should be the
duty of the president to seize and apply to the use
of the army the property of six classes of leaders
of the rebellion, who seem to have been considered
prima facie guilty of treason. There were, finally,
no southern prosecutions under it. Davis and
others were indicted, but never brought to trial.
The few prosecutions were in northern states. –
See Story's Commentaries, §§ 1290, 1790; ib.,
§ 1795 (for law cases); Whiting's War Powers
(10th ed.), 95; the state sovereignty view of trea-
son is in Bledsoe's Is Jefferson Davis a Traitor 3
and “Centz’’’s Republic of Republics, 413 foll.,
(see also index under Treason); Indianapolis Trea-
son Trials, for the indictment against Davis see
Schuckers' Life of Chase, 534; the act of April 30,
1790, is in 1 Stat. at Large, 1.12; the act of July 17,
1862, is in 12 Stat. at Large, 589.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
TREASURY DEPARTMENT. This is the
most extensive and complex of all the depart-
ments of the United States government. Estab-
lished by act of Sept. 2, 1789 (1 Stat. at Large, p.
65), the department of the treasury has grown
from a little office with a few clerks, to a vast es-
tablishment employing no less than 3,400 officers
at Washington, with numerous bureaus, and with
branches, fiscal, marine and miscellaneous, all
over the country. The secretary of the treasury
is head of the department, and is one of the seven
cabinet officers (salary $8,000). The law requires
that he shall be a person not interested in the busi-
ness of trade or commerce. He is required to di-
gest and prepare plans for the revenue and public
credit; to prescribe forms of keeping public ac-
counts; to make reports annually, and specially,
when called upon, to congress, as to all matters
pertaining to his office; to superintend the collec-
tion of the revenue; to grant all warrants for
moneys issued from the treasury in pursuance of
appropriations made by law; and to perform all
Such duties connected with the finances of the
United States as are required by law. The multi-
farious business transacted under control of the
treasury department has been greatly expanded
within the past twenty years. It embraces the
management of the national debt, the national
currency and coinage, the supervision of the na-
tional banks, the internal revenue system, the
customs revenue, the commercial marine of the
United States, the light house system of the coun-
try, the survey of the coast and the interior tri-
angulation of the United States, the inspection
of steam vessels, the life-saving service, and the
marine hospitals. There are two assistant secre-
taries of the treasury (salary, $4,500 each), either
of whom may be designated as acting secretary in
the absence or inability of their chief, and between
whom is divided the responsibility for the great
variety of current business and correspondence
which does not by law require the signature of
the secretary. The routine work of the secretary’s
office is distributed among eight divisions (each
under a chief at $2,500 salary, and employing
about 400 clerks in all). The accounts for all re-
ceipts and disbursements by the United States, or
any of its officers, are by law examined in the
office of some One of the six auditors of the treas-
ury (salary $3,600 each). The first auditor (58
clerks, etc.) has charge of all accounts in the civil
service, custom houses, judiciary, public debt, etc.
The second auditor (157 clerks, etc.) settles all
accounts connected with the army (except as fol-
lows, under the third auditor), bounties and In-
dian affairs. The third auditor (171 clerks, etc.)
adjusts accounts of the quartermaster general, en-
gineer corps, commissary general, unpaid pen-
sions, war claims, etc. The fourth auditor (48
clerks, etc.) adjusts all accounts connected with
the navy. The fifth auditor (30 clerks, etc.) has
charge of the internal revenue accounts, diplo-
matic and consular, and state department accounts,
the census, etc. The sixth auditor (295 clerks,
etc.) settles all accounts relating to the postal
service. All the above accounts, when audited,
go to the first or second comptroller of the treas-
ury (salary $5,000 each) for re-examination. The
first comptroller (58 clerks, etc.) must counter-
sign all warrants issued by the secretary, revise
the accounts of the first and fifth auditors, exam-
ine drafts and requisitions for salaries, etc. The
second comptroller (70 clerks, etc.) examines and
certifies accounts received from the second, third
and fourth auditors. The commissioner of cus-
toms (salary $4,000, 31 clerks, etc.) revises and
certifies the revenue accounts, and all matters con-
nected with the marine. The register of the
treasury (salary $4,000, 148 clerks, etc.) has
charge of the account books of the United States,
showing every receipt and disbursement : he reg-
isters all warrants drawn by the Secretary upon
the treasurer, signs and issues all bonds, United
States notes, and other securities, and has charge
of the tonnage or shipping accounts, and the en-
tire registry of vessels in the United States. The
comptroller of the currency (salary $5,000, 89
clerks, etc.) supervises the entire national bank
934
TREASURY DEPARTMENT.
system of the country. This important office was
created in 1863. The comptroller is charged with
the execution of all laws relating to the issue and
regulation of national currency secured by United
States bonds; he has a seal of office, commissions
and employs bank examiners, assumes control of
any national banks becoming insolvent, appoints
receivers therefor, makes an annual report to con-
gress upon the condition, resources and liabilities
of the national banks, and compiles statistics of
other banks, banking companies and savings banks.
The director of the mint (or, more properly, mints)
of the United States (salary $4,500, 14 clerks etc.)
is the head of a treasury bureau established in
1873, and has charge of all mints and assay of—
fices, making annual reports to congress on the
coinage of the country, the yield of precious met-
als, and collateral subjects. The commissioner
of internal revenue (salary $6,000, 293 clerks, etc.),
an office established in 1862, superintends the as-
sessment and collection of all duties and taxes
imposed by the laws providing internal revenue.
The states and territories were divided into nu-
merous collection districts during the war, for
assessing and gathering the excise and stamp
duties upon spirits, tobacco, etc., but the collect-
ors of internal revenue were reduced by execu-
tive order in 1883, to eighty-two. The solicitor of
the treasury (Salary $4,500, 15 clerks, etc.), though
an officer of the department of justice, has special
charge of legal measures to prevent and detect
frauds upon the revenue, having charge of all
suits involving money in which the United States
is interested, except those arising under the inter-
nal revenue laws, which are in charge of the solic-
itor of internal revenue. He also has charge of
the secret service employés engaged in detection
of counterfeiting and other frauds on the govern-
ment. The chief of the bureau of statistics (sal-
ary $3,000, 36 clerks, etc.) is charged with the
annual reports on commerce and Lavigation, in-
ternal commerce, etc., and publishes annual, quar-
terly, monthly and Occasional reports, embodying
the latest statistical information as to imports
and exports, immigration, shipping, etc. The
superintendent of the coast and geodetic survey
(salary $6,000, 156 clerks, etc.) has charge of
the survey of the coasts and rivers of the Unit-
ed States, publishing annual reports, tide-tables,
sailing directions, and maps and charts. The Su-
pervising surgeon general (salary $4,000, 17 clerks,
etc.) is charged with the marine hospital service
and the fund for the relief of sick and disabled
seamen. The supervising architect of the treas-
ury department (salary $4,500, 93 clerks, etc.)
is charged with preparing designs and plans for
all public buildings erected by the United States
for custom houses, United States courts and post-
offices, and the supervision of the same. The
supervising inspector general of steam vessels (sal-
ary $3,500, 5 clerks, etc.) administers the steam-
boat inspection laws, with the aid of a board of
inspectors. The superintendent of the life-saving
service (salary $4,000, 23 clerks, etc.) supervises
the organization and employés of the coast serv-
ice for the protection of life and property, and
prepares the statistics of marine disasters. The
chief of the bureau of engraving and printing
(salary $4,500) has charge of the engraving and
printing of all bonds, treasury notes, national bank
notes, certificates, internal revenue stamps, etc.,
of the United States. This great establishment.
occupies a separate building constructed especially
for its uses, and employs about 1,200 hands. The
treasurer of the United States (salary $6,000, 277
clerks, etc.) receives and keeps the moneys of the
United States, and disburses them only upon war-
rants drawn by the secretary of the treasury, and
duly recorded. He is also charged with the cus-
tody of all public moneys in the sub-treasuries at
New York and eight other cities, acts as agent for
redemption of national bank notes, is trustee of
the bonds of the United States, and custodian of
Indian trust funds, besides having entire charge
of the payment of interest on the public debt.
The immense vaults and strong-boxes of the
treasury are all in the custody of this officer. —
As will be seen from the above outline, the multi-
farious business of the fiscal system of the United.
States is widely and carefully distributed through
a series of responsible officers, appointed by the
president and senate, who give bonds for the faith-
ful discharge of their duties. The system of keep-
ing and adjusting accounts is very thorough and
systematic, and the checks and safeguards for the
protection of the public money so thoroughly or-
ganized by distribution among many responsible
heads, as to render any wrongful disbursement
very difficult, if not impossible. — The treasury
department occupies a very large freestone and
granite edifice, containing 195 rooms, constructed
after the Ionic style of architecture, the cost of
construction having been $6,000,000. It was in
this department that the employment of women.
as government clerks was first introduced in the
year 1863, and several hundred of that sex are
now employed in the various departments at
Washington. — The following is the complete list,
of secretaries of the treasury from the beginning
of the government, with their terms of office:
1. Alexander Hamilton-------------------- Sept. 11, 1789.
2. Oliver Wolcott-------------------------. Feb. 2, 1795.
3. Samuel Dexter-------------------------- Jan. 1, 1801
4. Albert Gallatin-------------------------- May 14, 1801
5. George W. Campbell-------------------- IFeb. 9, 1814.
6. Alexander J. Dallas--------------------- Oct. 6, 1814.
7. William H. Crawford------------------- Oct. 22, 1816.
8. Richard Rush.--------------------------- March 7, 1825
9. Samuel D. Ingham---------------------- March 6, 1829.
10. Louis McLane-------------------------- Aug. 2, 1831
11. William J. Duane----------------------- May 29, 1833.
12. Roger B. Taney------------------------- Sept. 23, 1833.
13. Levi Woodbury------------------------- June 27, 1834.
14. Thomas Ewing ------------------------- March 5, 1841
15. Walter Forward------------------------ Sept. 13, 1841
16. John C. Spencer------------------------ March 3, 1843.
17. George M. Bibb------------------------- June 15, 1844.
18. Robert J. Walker----------------------- March 6, 1845.
19. William M. Meredith-------------------- March 8, 1849.
20. Thomas Corwin------------------------- July 23, 1850.
21. James Guthrie-------------------------- March 7, 1853.
22. Howell Cobb---------------------------- March 6, 1857
TREATIES.
935
23, Philip F. Thomas----------------------- Dec. 12, 1860
24. John A. Dix---------------------------- Jan. 11, 1861
25. Salmon P. Chase------------------------ March 7, 1861
26. William Pitt Fessenden.----------------- July 1, 1864
27. Hugh McCulloch------------------------ March 7, 1865
28. George S. Boutwell--------------------- March 11, 1869
29. William A. Richardson.------------------ March 17, 1873
30. Benjamin H. Bristow------------------- June 4, 1874
31. Lot M. Morrill-------------------------- July 7, 1876
38. John Sherman-------------------------- March 8, 1877
33. William Windom ----------------------- March 5, 1881
34. Charles J. Folger----------------------- Oct. 27, 1881
A. R. SPOFFORD.
TREATIES. A treaty is an agreement, league
or contract between two or more nations or sover-
eigns, formally signed by commissioners properly
authorized, and solemnly ratified by the several
sovereigns or the Supreme power of each state. —
FIistorical View. This is the modern definition;
in the ancient world, treaties were not so much
contracted as they were dictated. A conqueror
with an army at the gate of a capital was perfectly
able to settle the terms by himself, and he would
stay there until he had satisfactory pledges that
the terms would be carried out. The treaty of
peace of Antalcidas, B. C. 387, is a good instance.
Tiribazus, with the Persian fleet in the Hellespont,
summoned deputies from the Greek states, and
read terms of peace as follows: “ King Arta-
xerxes thinks it just that the cities in Asia and the
islands of Clazomenae and Cyprus should belong
to him. He also thinks it just to leave all the
other Grecian cities, both small and great, inde-
pendent, except Lemnos, Imbros and Scyros,
which are to belong to Athens, as of old. Should
any parties refuse to accept this peace, I will make
war upon them, along with those who are of the
same mind, both by land and sea, with ships and
with money.” No parties refused to accept it.
Very often, too, the conquered had to pay down
so much gold or so many slaves or ships, by way
of earnest; at the treaty made by the Romans, B.
C. 190, Antiochus, just defeated at Magnesia, had
to cede Asia Minor, to pay 1,500 talents within
twelve years, and to give up his elephants, ships
of war and even some guests at his court. This
was a typical treaty of those days. Occasion-
ally, however, even then, the treaty was more of
a contract than this, and settled and defined the
relations of states among each other; the peace of
Callias, B. C. 371, which settled the independence
of the various Grecian states, and the terms on
which they were to exist between themselves, was
as much a manifestation of international law as
many of the modern congresses have produced.
Heffter has traced the history and growth of this
branch of international law very clearly and brief-
ly, and it may be useful before proceeding with
the subject, to insert here his historical view of
the matter, from the times we have alluded to
until when Talleyrand, Nesselrode, Castlereagh,
Bernstadt and Metternich, with other lesser lights,
in 1814–15, formed a parliament to balance off the
powers of the world against each other with the
closest care. — Treaties, together with the negoti-
ations which precede them, are the most fruitful
Source of international law; they, and the spirit
which leads to their enactment, show on what
points nations and governments are in accord. —
In the ancient world, treaties were almost the only
manifestation of any common principle of law.
Nevertheless, they present little interest; they rare-
ly go beyond the narrow circle of the needs of the
moment. Sometimes they show us the misfor-
tunes of the conquered ; sometimes their object
is the conclusion of a long or short armistice;
occasionally also the establishment of business
relations, or even that of a kind of dikeodosie
founded on reciprocal rights. The treaties con-
cluded between the states, or rather between
the princes, of the middle ages, offer still less
of interest. The state itself was then only an
agglomeration of private affairs and needs : the
prince disposed of peoples and countries as he
would of his own fields. The feudal lords and
the church alone enjoyed a certain protection
which they in their turn accorded to others, and
yet that was often insufficient.—From the fifteenth
century the turning point comes; a jurisprudence
of political treaties begins to be formed, which is
closely connected with the first steps of a Euro-
pean state-craft, and reflects in it the general spirit
of later times. Innumerable treaties were con-
cluded at that period, which often only wore a
temporary mask for the true intentions of the
parties, and which were rarely taken seriously.
They would break them after a little with the
same ease, to replace them by treaties of alliance
with the enemies of those who had just been
their allies. Wheresoever there might be any
spoil to gain or share, each rushed to seize his
part (le système copartageant, it was called). Mar-
riages and dowries played a minor but very consid-
erable part in the treaties of those days. With the
religious struggles of the sixteenth century higher
interests began to be considered. At first they were
discussed within the states, but the movers of in-
ternational politics soon began to try to profit by
these religious struggles, without any scruples for
the interests of any particular religion. In this
sixteenth century the politics of commerce ob-
tained a preponderating influence over the general
affairs of Europe: especially after the insurrection
of the united provinces against the Spanish mon-
archy, for the sake of colonial interests, the scene
of war was changed to the most distant parts of
the world. — The first half of the seventeenth
century is filled with the bloody slaughters of the
holy wars, to which the congress of Westphalia
put a final end. This was the congress where the
diplomacy of the great powers celebrated a tri-
umph. Its work on this occasion was for a long
time a source of pride, but nevertheless, like a
new Pandora, there escaped from its casket many
gifts which were to be sources of distress. How-
ever, the treaty of Westphalia was to form the
firm foundation of the status quo and of the bal-
ance of power of Europe, and at the same time
it is the line of demarkation between an ancient
and modern system of diplomacy. Up to that
936
TREATIES.
time in treaty negotiations diplomacy had relied
on rights which were at least apparent to every
one; after the treaties of Munster and Osnabruck
its object was much less the re-establishment of
rights which had been violated; it regulated mat-
ters more according to political rule, and in so do-
ing destroyed many rights which had been estab-
lished by the older methods. At the conclusion
of the peace of Westphalia there comes, as if di-
rectly in consequence of it, a restless state of inter-
national policy, directed, sometimes to the acqui-
sition of material advantages, sometimes to main-
tain the political equilibrium which had been re-es-
tablished at the price of so many sacrifices. The
policy of intervention is at its height, and with
it the usage of European congresses and combina-
tions. Governments find themselves perfectly free
now that the états généraua, have been suppressed.
The Hague becomes the neutral green-room of the
diplomatic struggle; it is the place where the cards
are dealt, and where each tries to finish the game;
a place where adversaries engaged outside in mor-
tal struggles can meet each other freely.—During
the eighteenth century, or up to the French revo-
lution, the international jurisprudence of Europe
continues to present a system of political combi-
nations, whose chief aim is to prevent as much as
possible any threatening preponderance in the gen-
eral equilibrium, unless the fortune of war or of
circumstances throws one of the parties at the
mercy of others. This arrangement of political
affairs gave rise to a nerveless and colorless diplo-
macy, which pursues above everything the pres-
ervation of the status quo. But this conciliatory
spirit disappears in its turn after the partition of
Poland is effected, and after the revolution’s suc-
cess is assured. The victorious revolution dictates
its treaties. the conquered are obliged to submit
on account of their momentary needs. Senatus
consult, or simple manifestoes, announce to Eu-
rope what alterations are taking place in their
midst. Then the Napoleonic policy arises, and
treaties from the beginning of our century up to
1814 circle around it, either to strengthen it or to
prepare that Secret coalition which, when trans-
formed into open resistance, created the political
web of 1815. The preservation, and, when it is
necessary, the alteration, of this web, was for a
time the end of monarchical congresses and of
ministerial conferences with their declarations and
protocols, until the pentarchy was broken up by
the energy of peoples and of governments jealous
of their independence. The great business of Eu-
ropean diplomacy, which only affected, sometimes
in an indirect way, the public questions of the
day, were in the Second half of the last century
the maritime rights of neutrals, and in our century
at first the Napoleonic system on the continent,
then the suppression of the slave trade, and finally,
the commercial union of Germany, the interna-
tional emancipation of trade, navigation, arts,
literature and labor. — The rough division may,
therefore, be made, that, in the ancient world,
treaties were usually for peace after a war, and were
dictated rather than contracted; in the middle ages,
treaties were often ostensibly contracted for states-
manlike objects, but were never meant to be kept.
“Each treaty plants the seeds of a new war.” As
Machiavelli says (Del Principe, 1532), “A prudent
prince will not and ought not to observe his engage-
ments when it would operate to his disadvantage,
and the causes no longer exist which induced him
to make them.” Spinoza, another later writer,
whose words, like those of Machiavelli, apply to
the period we are speaking of, says very much
the same. (Tract. Theol. Polit., cap. iii.) Of
course these words apply to very modern times
also, but in a less marked degree. Ever since the
publication of the works of the early jurists,
Gentilis and Grotius, the current has been setting
in the other direction, and now the question
rather is, how to enforce a treaty, than how to
break it. The growth of the popularity of the
principle of arbitration in the last ten or twenty
years perhaps marks the commencement of a
fourth period. (See ARBITRATION.)— Theoretical
View. For the history and discussion of the ideas
and theories concerning treaties, we may refer to
the works of writers on international law. Most
of the questions dealt with even in so late writers
as Wheaton and Lawrence are now practically set-
tled as much as the older ones of Grotius and
others, such as, whether a Christian nation can
make a treaty with an infidel power. We may
briefly allude to one or two questions on which
different views are still sometimes expressed. Do
treaties expire in case of a war or change in gov-
ernment in which either of the contracting parties
is interested ? To which the text books answer,
treaties are of two kinds: 1. Transitory conven-
tions, which are perpetual in their nature, so that,
being once carried into effect, they subsist inde-
pendent of any change in the Sovereignty and
form of government, and, although their operation
may in some cases be suspended during war, they
revive on the return of peace without any express
stipulation. Such are cases of cession, boundary
or extension of territory, or those creating a per-
manent servitude in favor of one nation within
the territory of another. Exceptions to the latter
class are such cases as a telegraph treaty, in which
special war provisions are always inserted, which
bind neutrals as well as belligerents, though per-
haps in a different way. (Fischer's Die Telegraphie
wºnd das Völkerrecht, Leipzig, 1876.) 2. Treaties
so called, or foedera, of friendship, commerce, etc.,
expire of course when, first, either party loses
existence as a perpetual state; second, the internal
constitution is so changed as to render the treaty
inapplicable, as concluded in view of a particular
constitution, as when, by the French revolution,
the French form of government was changed;
third, war arises between the contracting parties;
and fourth, by limitation of the treaty itself. —
But under whichever of these two heads the treaty
falls, if, while a treaty is in force, a right vests
under it, the expiration of the treaty can not ex-
tinguish that right. “The treaty had its full
TREATIES.
937
effect the instant a right was acquired under it;
it had nothing further to perform; and its expira-
tion or continuance afterward was unimportant.”
(U. S. Supreme Court, in reference to the treaty
of 1800 with France.)— Treaties are, in general,
subject to very many of the rules to which con-
tracts aré subject. When a question arose between
England and the United States as to the boundary
line between this country and Canada, the question
turning on the interpretation of certain treaties
that had been entered into, England submitted to
the emperor of Germany, the arbitrator, the fol-
lowing rules of interpretation for treaties, which
are very similar to the rules of interpretation
that might have been submitted in the case of
a contract: 1. The words of a treaty are to
be taken to be used in the sense in which they
were commonly used at the time when the treaty
was entered into. 2. In interpreting any expres-
sions in a treaty, regard must be had to the con-
text and spirit of the whole treaty. 3. The in-
terpretation should be drawn from the connec-
tion and relation of the different parts. 4. The
interpretation should be suitable to the reason of
the treaty. 5. Treaties are to be interpreted in a
favorable rather than an odious sense. 6. What-
ever interpretation tends to change the existing
state of things at the time the treaty was made, is
to be ranked in the class of odious things. – The
antecedent conditions on which the validity of a
treaty depends are also very much the same as in
the case of a contract : the parties must be capable
of contracting, the agents must be duly empow-
ered, the object must be lawful and possible, there
must be a mutual consent, etc. Another condi-
tion is often inserted in the text books, that the
parties must give their consent freely, or must be
so situated that the consent of both may be re-
garded as freely given, but it is difficult to see
how this can be so. — Another question arose espe-
cially concerning the declaration of the treaty of
Paris, with respect to the effect of the flag on
enemy’s goods. Are, for instance, the United
States bound by it? All other countries of im-
portance have adhered to the rule there laid down,
except the United States, and some foreign writers
have considered the United States bound by this
general uniformity of opinion. But we do not see
any good reason for this view, and probably a for-
eign court would hesitate before applying the doc-
trine where an American was a party before it. —
Treaties are classified in a good many different
ways. A note in Mr. Hall's book on international
law (Oxford, 1880), sums up this matter briefly :
“Most writers devote considerable space to a
classification of treaties. Wattel, for example,
divides them into equal treaties, by which ‘equal,
equivalent or equitably proportioned’ promises are
made; unequal treaties, in which the promises
do not so correspond; personal treaties, which ex-
pire with the sovereign who contracts them; and
real treaties, which bind the state permanently.
De Martens arranges them under the heads of per-
sonal and real treaties, of equal and unequal alli-
ances, and of transitory conventions, treaties prop-
erly so called, and mixed treaties. Of these last,
the first kind, being carried out once for all, is
perpetual in its effects; the duration of the second,
which stipulates for the performance of successive
acts, is dependent on the continued life of the state
and other contingencies; and the third partakes of
both characters. Heffter divides them into, 1, con-
stitutive conventions, which have for their object
either the constitution of a real right over another's
property, or some obligation to give or to do or not
to do something (e.g., treaties of cession, establish-
ment of servitudes, treaties of succession); 2, regu-
lating conventions for the political or social affairs
of nations and of their governments (e. g., treaties
of commerce); 3, treaties of alliance. Calvo distin-
guishes treaties, with reference to their form, into
transitory and permanent; with reference to their
nature, into personal and real; with reference to
their effects, into equal and unequal, and simple
and conditional; finally, with reference to their
objects, into treaties of guarantee, neutrality, alli-
ance, etc. It is not very evident in what way these
and like classifications are of either theoretical or
practical use.” “Treaties included among those
which have been supposed to express principles of
law, appear to be susceptible of division into three
classes: 1, those which are declaratory of law as
understood by the contracting parties; 2, those
which stipulate for practices which the contracting
parties wish to incorporate into the usages of the
law, but which they know to be outside the actual
law; 3, those which are, in fact, mere bargains, in
which, without any reference to legal considera-
tions, something is bought by one party at the
price of an equivalent given to the other.” (Hall.)
— It has now been practically settled, that, what-
ever powers an agent may have been given, a
treaty must be ratified by the sovereign or proper
authority before it can be considered as binding.
Usually the crown or supreme power of the land
is the treaty-making and treaty-ratifying power,
but in England especially, and to a certain extent
in some other countries, any treaty involving
money matters has to be passed upon by the pop-
ular assembly, and, as a general rule, where any
decided step is about to be taken by treaty, the opin-
ion of parliament is first obtained, though, perhaps,
informally. — In Sweden the king makes peace in
conjunction with the senate. — In Germany the
executive has power to make war, but, when offen-
sive, only with the consent of the bundesrath; it
has power to make peace in all cases. By article
11 of the constitution (reichs-verfassung), the execu-
tive has the power to make treaties with the lim-
itation that the consent of the legislature is neces-
sary when the provisions refer to subjects under
the power of the legislature. These are as follows:
Article 4. Foreign commerce and intercourse,
colonization and emigration, financial system,
weights and measures, patents and copyrights,
rights of assembly, post and telegraph, Sanitary
police, laws of contract and private law, commer-
cial law, railroads, settlement, residence and citi-
938
TREATIES.
zenship of different states, military system. These
are the powers which the different German states
reserve to themselves the right to deal with, and,
therefore, no treaty can be made concerning any
of them without permission from the legislature.
— In France, by article 9 of the constitution (Lois
Constitutionelles, July 16, 1875), the president may
declare offensive war with the consent of the legis-
lature. By article 8, the president is to negotiate
and ratify treaties alone, unless they involve ques-
tions of peace, commerce, finance, status of per-
sons and rights of property of Frenchmen in for-
eign countries, cession of territory by or to France;
in these cases the consent of the legislature is nec-
essary. —In the United States the makers of the
constitution tried a new method of enforcing a
treaty by enacting, that all treaties should be con-
sidered as the supreme law of the land, and pro-
viding for their ratification by the senate. But an-
other clause gives the house of representatives con-
trol over all foreign commerce and other matters
often dealt with in treaties. By section 8 of article
1, of the constitution, “The congress shall have
power—1. To lay and collect taxes, duties, im-
posts and excises * * *; 3. To regulate commerce
with foreign nations, and among the several states
and with the Indian tribes; 4. To establish a uni-
form rule of naturalization * * *; 10. To define
and punish piracies and felonies committed on the
high Seas, and offenses against the law of nations.”
Now, these are all of them matters also dealt with
in treaties which are to be entered into and ratified
(by section 2 of article 2) by the president, “by and
with the advice and consent of the senate, pro-
vided two-thirds of the senators present concur.”
And such treaties are also, by the constitution,
to have the same force and effect as if they were
the supreme law of the land. The treaties on the
above and other subjects often, therefore, in their
provisions, come into conflict with the laws of con-
gress, especially with those in connection with
commercial subjects, which usually spring from
the house of representatives, and an interesting
Series of questions has in consequence been brought
before our courts. To take one recent case out
of many. By article 4 of a treaty between the
United States of America and his majesty the
king of Denmark, concluded at Washington, April
26, 1826, and thereafter duly ratified and pro-
claimed, and renewed by article 5 of the treaty
entitled “Convention between the United States
of America and his Majesty the King of Denmark,
for the discontinuance of the Sound Dues,” con-
cluded at Washington, April 11, 1857, and there-
after duly ratified by the senate, and proclaimed,
and which is still in full force and effect, it is pro-
vided that: “No higher or other duties shall be
imposed on the importation into the United States
of any article, the produce or manufacture of the
dominions of his majesty the king of Denmark,
* * than are or shall be payable on the like ar-
ticles, being the produce or manufacture of any
other foreign country.” By article 1 of the treaty
entitled “Convention between the United States
of America and his Majesty the King of the Ha-
waiian Islands,” concluded at Washington, Jan.
30, 1875, and thereafter duly ratified and pro-
claimed on the part of the United States, and to
carry which into effect the necessary law has been
duly passed (Aug. 15, 1876) by the congress of the
United States, and which is still in full force and
effect, it is provided as follows: “The United
States of America hereby agree to admit all the
articles named in the following schedule, the same
being the growth and manufacture, or produce,
of the Hawaiian islands, into all the ports of the
United States, free of duty.” The schedule fo -
lowing said article includes: “Muscovado, brown
and all other unrefined sugars,” of grades therein
mentioned, and all “syrups of sugar-cane, melado
and molasses.” Certain merchants having im-
ported such goods from Denmark, claimed that
the aforesaid articles imported were, under and by
virtue of the aforesaid treaty with Denmark, en-
titled to be admitted into this port free from the
payment of any duty whatsoever, for the reason
that “like articles, being the produce or manufact-
ure of (any) a foreign country,” to wit, the Ha-
waiian islands, are, pursuant to the treaty with
that country, admitted into all the ports of the
United States free of duty. The collector of New
York collected duties on the goods, and the mer-
chants, having paid under protest, brought suit
against the collector to recover the money. Judge
Wallace, in, the United States circuit court, de-
cided in favor of the collector, chiefly on the
ground, apparently, that congress may annul or
repeal a treaty, as far as it is municipal law, pro-
vided its subject matter be, under the constitu-
tion, within the legislative jurisdiction of congress,
and that in this case there had been such a repeal
of the clause in question by implication, by the
tariff legislation of congress. As Judge Curtis
says, “If an act of congress should levy a duty
upon imports, which an existing commercial treaty
declares shall not be levied, so that this treaty is in
conflict with the act,” the later act of congress
“gives the rule of decision in a judicial tribunal
of the United States, in a case to which one rule
or the other must be applied.” This rule is well
established, now, in our courts. See other cases,
such as, Ropes vs. Clinch, 8 Blatchford, 304;
Cherokee Tobacco, 11 Wall, 616; Gray vs. Clinton
Bridge, Woolworth, 150. — Take another case,
one analogous to which has recently arisen: Sup-
pose the United States, by treaty with another
country, takes away from its own residents or
citizens, in certain cases, some constitutional right,
such as trial by jury; are the American courts in
those cases estopped by the treaty from seeing
that such right is not withheld from those under
its jurisdiction? The other country would prob-
ably expect us to fulfill our treaty, but the courts
would probably hold that even the Supreme law of
the land was to be governed by our constitution.
These considerations lead us to the last division of
our subject, the enforcement of treaties and the
growth of the powers of courts of justice in that
TREATIES.
939
f
regard. – Enforcement of Treaties. The follow-
ing distiictions may perhaps be usefully made in
connection with this part of the subject. After
the sovereign or supreme power of a state has en-
tered into a treaty obligation, its fulfillment or
enforcement usually comes under the jurisdiction
and control of the sovereign or head of the nation
himself, by or with the aid of one of three powers
of the land: 1, the legislature or council of state;
2, the army and navy department; or, 3, the law
and courts of justice of the country. Consequent-
ly, while the different obligations of treaties are
theoretically enforceable by the nation itself, they
may for practical purposes be said to be under the
control of one of the above mentioned depart-
ments. The executive and legislative branches
have control of such clauses in treaties as deal with
peace or war, cession of territory or of money, of
guarantee, neutrality or intercourse. The head of
the army or navy in action is almost wholly in
charge of the humane and moral clauses of mod-
ern treaties, such as those which deal with aid to
the wounded, etc.; and of truces and cartels, and
other laws of war, and of railroad and telegraph
or cable treaties, so far as the war clauses are con-
cerned. The judicial power is responsible for the
carrying out of naturalization and extradition
treaties, commercial engagements, the laws of
prizes, some of the effects of treaties concerning
war and peace, such as the rights of Seizure, em-
bargo, blockade, etc., and the clauses of treaties
which affect the rights of citizens and foreigners
in their individual and private capacity.—The dis-
tinction as to what classes of treaties come before
the courts, is pointed out by the late Chief Justice
Marshall, in the case of Foster vs. Neilson (2 Pe-
ters, 314): “Our constitution declares a treaty to
be the law of the land. It is consequently to be
regarded in courts of justice as equivalent to an
act of the legislature, whenever it operates of it-
self, without the aid of any legislative provision.
But when the terms of stipulation import a con-
tract, when either of the parties engages to per-
form a particular act, the treaty addresses itself
to the political, not the judicial department, and
the legislature must execute the contract before it
can become a rule for the court. * * This
seems to be the language of contracts, and if it
is, the ratification and confirmation which are
promised must be the act of the legislature. Un-
til such act shall be passed, the court is not at
liberty to disregard the existing laws on the sub-
ject.” That is, a treaty is a contract, and before
the courts can accept a treaty as the supreme law
of the land, for them to enforce, it must, by the
action of congress, be changed from a contract
into a law, unless, as another judge says, “the
treaty itself gives a rule of law in respect to pri-
vate rights, capable of execution without the aid
of further legislation, and operating directly upon
the interest which is the subject of the judicial
inquiry.” And if the treaty does not come with-
in either of these rules, that must be decided by
the courts, too; therefore, especially in this coun-
try, the power of the courts, whether used posi-
tively or negatively, in the enforcement of treaties
and their obligations, is very great. —In Ware vs.
Hylton, 3 Dallas, 199, certain Virginians owed
money to some Englishmen in 1774. In 1777 the
legislature passed a law to sequester British prop-
erty, providing that Virginian citizens owing
money to English subjects might pay the same to
the Virginian government and get a discharge for
their debt. The debtors in this case took advan-
tage of this act. In 1783 a treaty was entered into
between the United States and Great Britain, by
the fourth clause of which it was agreed “that
creditors on either side shall meet with no legal
impediment to the recovery of the full value, in
sterling money, of all boma fide debts heretofore
contracted.” The supreme court held, reversing
the decision of the lower court, that the treaty of
the United States annulled the law of Virginia,
and gave the right to the Englishmen to recover
their debt. — In the case of the United States vs.
The Schooner Peggy, 1 Cranch, 103, a French
ship had been captured and condemned as a prize
by the United States circuit court of Connecticut
in 1800. A writ of error was prosecuted to the
supreme court, and before the hearing a treaty
was entered into between the United States and
France, one of the clauses of which was to the
effect that property captured and not yet definitely
condemned should be mutually restored. The
court held that the sentence of the circuit court
was not definitive, and ordered the prize to be re-
stored. The court said: “In mere private cases
between individuals a court will and ought to
struggle hard against a construction which will,
by a retrospective operation, affect the rights of
parties; but in great national concerns, where in-
dividual rights acquired by war are sacrificed for
national purposes, the contract making the sacri-
fice ought always to receive a construction con-
forming to its manifest import.”— Chirac vs. Chi-
rac, 2 Wheaton, 112, is a decision as to the effect
of treaties on the title to real property, and de-
cided, among other points, what we have already
seen, that a treaty providing for the rights of sub-
jects of one country, claiming lands by inherit-
ance in another, is perpetual in its effect. If it
expires by lapse of time, any right that has pre-
viously arisen in consequence of its existence is
not extinguished by its expiration. “The treaty
had its full effect the instant a right was acquired
under it; it had nothing further to perform; and
its expiration or continuance afterward was un-
important.”— The United States vs. Watts, 14
Federal Reporter, 130, is an extradition case,
where the United States had extradited the de-
fendant for having committed one offense, tried
him for it, and then proceeded to try him for an-
other. The court discharged the prisoner, after
examining both the executive and legal authori-
ties on the question. Mr. Hamilton Fish, the
secretary of state, had contended that the receiv-
ing power has the right, if so inclined, after hav-
ing tried the extradited person on the charge on
940
TREATIES.
which he had been surrendered, with a bona fide
intent and effort to convict him on that one charge,
to try him for any other offense of which he may
have been guilty. (Messages and Documents,
Dep. of State, May, 1876.) Lord Derby denied
this, and the United States court in this case agreed
with Lord Derby, saying: “It results as a nec-
essary consequence of the duty imposed on the
courts to respect and obey the stipulations of a
treaty as the supreme law of the land, that they
are also charged with the duty of determining its
meaning and effect, and this duty they must con-
scientiously and fairly perform, even though the
construction they feel compelled to give to it
should differ from that given to it by the political
branch of the government.”—The cases we have
mentioned are typical instances from our reports
as to how our courts have enforced various pro-
visions of treaties, even against the apparent in-
terests of their own country and countrymen, and
many other similar cases might be cited, both
from our own and from the European law re-
ports. – From the times of Sir Leoline Jenkins
(1625–84) the English admiralty courts have been
very determined, in prize cases, in seeing that jus-
tice was done in all cases where foreigners were
concerned, even where the foreigners were allies
of a hostile country. Sir William Scott, in main-
taining, later, this tradition of his court, gave a
great impetus to the enforcement of international.
law, especially in following and observing the
treaty rights of neutral or other foreigners. We
may note one instance, taken at random from the
English reports, the case of The Fama, 5 Rob-
inson, 106, which was as follows: In 1803 some
goods in a ship sailing from New Orleans to Havre
de Grace were seized by an English vessel, En-
gland then being at war with France. By the
treaty of Idelfonso, 1796, Louisiana had been
ceded to France. The New Orleans merchant
claimed that the treaty was a secret treaty, and
had not yet been carried into effect by the hand-
ing over of Louisiana to the French, wherefore it
still remained a Spanish possession, and he should
have restitution. Sir William Scott agreed to this
view of the matter, and decided that the national
character of a place agreed to be surrendered by
treaty, but not actually transferred, continues as it
was under the character of the ceding country,
and ordered restitution by the English captors to
the New Orleans merchant. All of which shows
that the courts of law in civilized nations are the
most effective enforcing agencies for treaties be-
tween nations, as for contracts between individu-
als, and that their jurisdiction is rapidly growing,
and trenching on our next class. The next class
of Sanctions for treaties are those of the executive.
They are to be employed where, as Livy says,
“they are made by the command of the supreme
power, and whereby the whole nation is made
liable to the wrath of God if they infringe it.”
And the wrath of God or the fear of man is still
about all that causes their fulfillment when either
country would rather break them. The jurists of
all ages have tried to find some way in which
these national treaties could be enforced, and they
have appealed, to a great extent in vain, to the
better feelings and aspirations of monarchs and
popular assemblies. The methods, other than
physical force, employed by nations to enforce
a treaty obligation, have been: 1. The perform-
ance, by way of ratification, of religious rites
and ceremonies, or the use of threats or influ-
ence by officers of different religions. In an-
cient times all treaties were entered into with the
most sacred religious rites, and if these or any
other formalities were left out, the treaty was not
considered binding. But this kind of sanction
only caused an obedience to the letter of the
treaty, as, to use an extreme instance, when Anti-
Ochus stipulated in a treaty to give up half his
fleet to the Romans, and Labeo carried that clause
into effect by sawing every ship belonging to the
monarch into two. The power of religious threats
in the enforcement of treaties has been best ex-
emplified in the case of the Roman church. By
the use of excommunications and interdicts that
church often was able to cause international agree-
ments to be carried into effect, when one side of
those who had entered into the agreement endeav-
ored to draw back; but the selfishness with which
the church used this power, and the power it also
claimed and exercised of releasing princes from
treaty obligations, neutralized all the good effect
on international morality it might otherwise have
caused. The ratification of a treaty was a very
solemn affair, transacted in some great cathedral,
in the presence of all the pomp and power of the
church and of the nations involved. The ambas-
sadors who had drawn up the treaty would there
in due form solemnly touch the cross, the holy
evangels, and the holy letters, and swear by their
honor to observe and carry out fully, really and in
good faith all the articles that were contained in
the treaty. (Peace of Munster, 1648.) The most
modern example is perhaps the alliance between
France and Switzerland in 1777, which was sol-
emnly confirmed by the oath of the contracting
parties in public in the cathedral of Soleure. The
emperor of Germany was addressed always as
Semper Augustus; the king of France, as most
Christian; the king of Spain, as most Catholic; the
king of England, as defender of the faith; the
king of Portugal, as most faithful; and the king
of Hungary as his apostolic majesty. 2. The
handing over of territory, money or hostages, as
a pledge for the fulfillment of a treaty, was also a
means much used in ancient times, and it was
successful so far as it went. It has gradually
fallen into disuse, except as regards the Occupa-
tion of territory. The last occasion on which
hostages were given, was at the treaty of Aix-la-
Chapelle, in 1748. 3. There remain the methods
by which third parties are made or become re-
sponsible for the carrying out of a treaty; such as
armed intervention, mediation, arbitration or guar-
antee. These methods, leaving arbitration out of
consideration, are found to be of little use at the
TREATIES.
941
present time. The third country, on the one side,
is likely to have the weight of any interference
neutralized by a third power interfering on the
other side. There are probably no countries with
which the great powers of Europe have not at
Some time or other in their history entered into a
treaty of guarantee, and most of these treaties
have not expired. Lastly, we come to those con-
ventions between nations and clauses in treaties
which practically have to be left to the enforce-
ment, if at all, of the commanders and officers of
any conflicting forces. The “modern rules of
war,” as they are called, as relating to the treat-
ment of the wounded and of prisoners, as to the
use of railroads or telegraphs, as to truces or neu-
trals, and blockades or searches, must be left, in
the nature of things, to the discretion and judg-
ment of the Officers who are in command at the
time, and they are not only responsible to their
own country but to many other countries both in
indirect and direct ways. At the Brussels confer-
ence of 1874 the project of an international con-
vention on these matters was proposed, but was
not effected. The conference expressed some
general views on the rules which should govern
occupation of a hostile country by a military force,
the treatment of prisoners, aid to the sick and
wounded, etc. The presence of foreign military
and press representatives with a modern army,
must be noted as one of the greatest influences in
matters falling under this head. There are certain
treaties, however, which neither the efforts of law
courts nor the commands of authorities, which are,
as we have seen, the only two sanctions of treaties,
can ever hope to enforce. These are treaties made
by a nation with some alien and weaker nation
living in its midst. From the treaties of Rome
with Latium, Spain with the Moors, and Germany
with the Bohemians, down to the treaties of En-
gland with Ireland or India, and the United States
with the Chinese and Indians, treaties have only
been used as one means of extermination and vio-
lence. Perhaps there never was a series of treaties
between two peoples so systematically entered into
for the purpose of breaking as those between the
United States and the Indian tribes of North
America. They were considered at first as inde-
pendent nations capable of entering into treaties,
but in 1871 congress passed an act to the effect
that they were not nations capable of contracting
with the United States by treaty; since then, the
term convention has been used, but the name has
made very little difference. The contracts have
been uniformly broken. The law courts, where
appealed to, have almost invariably, as far as pos-
sible, endeavored to enforce the rights of the Indi-
ans, but the jurisdiction necessary has usually in
these cases been given by law to officers of the
army or agents of the executive who have usually
sided, either openly or through lack of positive
action, with the immigrating violators of the pub-
lic faith. — A recent writer, Mr. Hall, (in his
“Rights and Duties of Neutrals,” p. 7), says he
“does not discover any ground for the claim (of
treaties) to exceptional reverence. They differ
only from other evidences of national opinion in
that their true character can generally be better
appreciated,” and he proceeds to attack them
from the point of view of international law, as
misleading and useless. On the other hand, other
writers on international law have almost univer-
sally considered treaties as the principal “ constit-
uent part" of their subject. Possibly, as Napo-
leon the Great said, they are very often “Forms
which, however necessary to disguise the depend-
ence of weak states, prove, in the case of strong.
ones, only a desire to deceive,” especially in the
case of those which we have called national treat-
ies. Whichever of these views may be correct,
we have seen that treaties have always played an
important part in the history of the world, and
that their usefulness to the general progress of
mankind has always increased more when en-
forced and fulfilled than when broken. — Author-
ities. The works on INTERNATIONAL LAW are
also authorities on our subject. Besides the
authorities given under that head in volume II. Of
this work, we may add the works on International
Law of Twiss, Westlake, Ward, Hall, Woolsey
and Sheldon Amos. The last edition of Heffter,
1881; the Rights and Duties of Neutrals, Hall,
London, 1874; the International Law article (Prof.
E. Robertson) in the Encyclopædia Britannica;
Mrs. Jackson's Century of Dishonor, New York,
1882; and the congressional and departmental re-
ports of various Indian commissions on that branch
of the subject; Fischer's Die Telegraphie und das
Völkerrecht, Leipzig, 1876, on that branch. The
following is a list of the collections of treaties
which have been made : The Argument and Pro-
ceedings at the Geneva Arbitration, 1873; Man-
ning's Law of Nations, edition Sheldon Amos,
London, 1875; International Commercial Law,
Leone Levi, London, 1863. Also the following
compilations of treaties and matters relating there-
to : Calvo, Recueil des Thaités; Moreuil, Recueil
des Traités diplomatiques, 1853; Jean Dumont et
T. Rousset, Corps Universel Diplomatique du Droit
des Gems ou Recueils des Traités de Paia', d'Alliance,
etc.; Barbeyrac (Jean), Histoire des anciens Traités
jusqu’à Charlemagne; Saint Prest (J. Y.), Histoire
des Traités de Paia du 17e Siècle; Negociation sécrétes
touchant la Pała, de Munster et d’Osnaburg, Mar-
tens (George Frederic de) Recueil de Traités d'Alli-
ance, de Paia, de Treue, de Neutralité, de Com-
ſmerce, etc., 1761–1808; also a supplement; M. le
Comte de Garden, Histoire générale des Traités de
Pača, Koch, Histoire Abrégée des Traités de Paia:
depuis la Paia de Westphalia; Rousset, Supple-
ment to the Corps Universel of Dumont; Wenk (F.
A. G.), Codea, Juris Gentium Recentissim?, Leipzig,
1781; Robinet, Dictionnaire Universel, 32 vols.,
1787; Schmauss (J. J.), Corpus Juris Gentºum,
1730. EUSTACE CONWAY.
TREATIES, Fishery. At the close of the
revolutionary war, in the negotiations which pre:
ceded the treaty of Sept. 3, 1783, one of the most
942
TREATIES.
important questions discussed had reference to a
definition of the privileges of fishermen, citizens
of the United States, in the waters of British
North America. Their right to fish on the Grand
Banks or in the gulf of St. Lawrence, or else-
where in the open sea, could not, of course, be
denied, but it was claimed that they should not
fish in British waters, or land in British territory
to dry or cure their catch. At that time the meth-
Ods of our fishermen were different from those
now in use. The resources of Our Own Coast
were little understood, and the greater part of the
New England fishing fleet resorted every summer
to Labrador, Newfoundland, and the gulf of St.
Lawrence, where they fished near the shores, mak-
ing a harbor usually every night, always in threat-
ening weather, and curing their fish upon the rocky
shores, before loading them into the vessels for
final home transportation. It was therefore im-
portant that they should retain as many as possi-
ble of the privileges enjoyed by them before the
outbreak of the revolution. A compromise was
finally agreed upon, and by the terms of article
III. of the treaty of Paris (Sept. 3, 1783), it was
arranged that the people of the United States
should have liberty to fish on such parts of the
coast of Newfoundland as British fishermen could,
and also on the coasts, bays and Creeks of all
other of their Britannic majesties’ dominions in
America; and to dry and cure fish in the bays,
harbors and creeks of Nova Scotia, the Magdalen
islands and Labrador, so long as they were unset-
tled, or after their settlement if they could secure
permission from the inhabitants or proprietors.
By this treaty they were excluded simply from
their former privilege of drying fish on the coasts
of Newfoundland, Prince Edward island and
Cape Breton. — The war of 1812 suspended for a
second time the privileges of our fishermen in
British waters; and when the question of their re-
adjustment was brought up, strong petitions were
made by the British colonists against a renewal of
the privileges of 1783. — At the first meeting of
the commissioners assembled at Ghent to draw up
the articles of peace, it was announced ‘‘that the
British government did not intend to grant to the
United States gratuitously the privileges formerly
granted * * for purposes connected with the fish-
eries.” They argued that the claim of an imme-
morial and prescriptive right to these privileges
was untenable, and that the rights which the inhab-
itants of the United States had possessed when
British subjects, could not be continued to them
after they had become citizens of an independent
state. After much discussion the subject was
dropped, and the treaty of Ghent (Dec. 24, 1814)
contained no reference to the fishery question.
The governors of the British colonies were now
instructed to exclude our fishing vessels from their
harbors and coasts, and the naval officers stationed
in that district received orders to resist all en-
croachments. The result was the capture of sev-
eral of our fishing vessels on the charge of tres-
passing in British waters. — In 1818 commission-
consent.
ers from the two countries met in London to set-
tle amicably disputed points in connection with
the fisheries, and their deliberations resulted in
the signing of the convention of Oct. 20, 1818.
By the terms of the first article of the convention
it was provided that subjects of the United States
should have forever the right to take fish of every
kind on the southern, western and northern coasts
of Newfoundland, on the shores of the Magdalen
islands, and on that of Labrador, from Cape Jolly
northward, and to dry and cure fish in any of the
bays, harbors and creeks of these regions, except
the Magdalens, so long as they should remain un-
settled. The United States renounced any claim
of right to take, dry or cure fish on or within
three marine miles of any British territory not
mentioned in the specifications above. American
fishermen were, however, to be admitted to all
harbors for shelter, repair of damages, purchasing
wood or obtaining water. In order to secure the
observance of this treaty our government issued
to its fishermen a notice warning them against
violation of the provisions of the first article of
the above mentioned convention, a copy of which
was annexed to the circular. — In 1847, in conse-
Quence of a petition addressed to the queen by the
Janadian parliament, negotiations were opened
for the establishment of reciprocal free trade be-
tween the United States and Canada. In exchange
for reciprocity in trade with the United States in
all natural productions, such as fish, wheat, timber,
etc., access was offered to the fisheries of all the
colonies, except Newfoundland, which refused
Some years were consumed in fruitless
effort, and it was not until June 5, 1854, that the
reciprocity treaty was signed, the Senate of the
United States confirming it August 3. By this
treaty the fishermen of the United States gained
a right to fish on all the coasts of British North
America, while British fishermen gained access to
the waters of the United States north of Cape
May (latitude 36°); the salmon and shad fisheries
were reserved for the exclusive uses of the subjects
of each country; certain rivers and mouths of
rivers, to be determined by a commission to be
appointed for that purpose, were also reserved.
The treaty also contained numerous provisions
to secure and regulate free trade in certain arti-
cles of commerce. The treaty was to remain
in force for ten years, after which it could be
terminated upon a year's notice by either party.
The commission to designate the places reserved
to each country occupied years in deliberations,
the results of which were so insignificant that
they do not deserve discussion in this connection.
—The reciprocity treaty terminated March 17,
1866, in consequence of notice given by the
United States, notwithstanding efforts on the part
of Great Britain to secure its renewal. The pro-
visions of the treaty of 1818 were now revived,
and continued in force until 1871, a period of fif-
teen years, during which there were constant clash-
ing and uncertainty. American fishermen were at
once warned that their right to fish in British
TREATIES.
943
waters would terminate on the 17th of March
1866. It was subsequently decided, however,
that during 1866 vessels from the United States
should be allowed to fish in all provincial waters
upon the payment of a nominal license fee to be
exacted as a formal recognition of right. This
privilege was continued for four years. In 1870
it was, however, discontinued, owing, it is claimed
by the British government, to the failure of our
fishermen to provide themselves with licenses, a
claim which was to a certain extent, I have no
doubt, a true one. During the year 1870 a con-
siderable number of American fishing vessels
were seized by British and provincial vessels, and
forfeited. —It now became necessary for the two
governments again to meet the question squarely,
and to this end was appointed the joint high com-
mission, which met in Washington, Feb. 27—May
8, 1871, and from whose deliberations resulted the
treaty of Washington. Articles XVIII. to XXV.
inclusive, and XXXII. and XXXIII. of the treaty
of Washington appertain to the fisheries. By
the provisions of these articles citizens of the
United States are allowed to take fish of every
Rind except shell fish along the shores of Canada,
and British subjects have equal rights on the coast
of the United States north of latitude 39° north,
the shad, salmon and other river fisheries being
excluded, and some trifling local exceptions in the
treaty of 1854 being confirmed. Article XXI.
provided for free trade between Canada and the
United States in all fishery products save fish of
inland lakes and rivers, and fish preserved in oil.
It was the theory of the makers of this treaty
that the United States was in all particulars the
chief beneficiary, and it was consequently pro-
vided in articles XXII. and XXIII. that “inas-
much as it is asserted by the government of her
Britannic majesty that the privileges accorded to
the citizens of the United States are of greater
value than those accorded to the subjects of her
Britannic majesty,” a commission should be ap-
pointed to decide upon the amount of compensa-
tion which should be paid by the government of
the United States for the privileges to them ac-
Corded. The commission referred to met in ac-
Cordance with the provisions of the treaty, at
Halifax, N. S., and was in session from June 15 to
Nov. 23, 1877. Its members were Mr. Maurice
Delfosse, at that time Belgian minister at Wash-
ington, Sir Alexander T. Galt for Great Britain,
and Hon. Ensign H. Kellogg for the United
States. The record of its sessions may be found
in 3495 printed pages of the “Documents and
Proceedings of the Halifax Commission,” vols. i.
—iii., Washington, 1878. The entire lack of
reliable statistics of the fisheries was of course
fatal to the cause of the United States, the great
mass of irrelevant and contradictory testimony
given by fishermen and others summoned before
the Commission being nearly equally unconvin-
cing and confusing on each side. Canada present-
ed the so-called “official statistics” of its fisheries
printed for ten years or more in the reports of the
minister of marine and fisheries: these at the time
appeared valid and valuable, though the charges
since published by Prof. H. Y. Hind show that
their accuracy is far from being unimpeachable.*
The decision of the case rested entirely with the
neutral member of the commission, Mr. Delfosse,
who without doubt based his action not upon the
testimony presented, nor the facts otherwise ac-
cessible to him at the time, but upon certain con-
siderations of diplomatic expediency, based upon
the previous treaty relations of Great Britain and
the United States. He adjudged to Great Britain
the sum of $5,500,000, to be paid by the United
States in exchange for alleged privileges granted
to its fishermen in British waters. This sum was
paid in 1878, and the terms of the treaty having
been thus fully complied with, the fishermen of
the two countries entered upon a mutual partici-
pation of fishing territory for a period of twelve
years. — The only important difficulty occurring
under this treaty was in January, 1878, when sev-
eral Gloucester vessels, taking in cargoes of frozen
herring at Fortune Bay, N. F., were attacked by
the people of the vicinity, their nets cut up, and
the crews driven away from the shore. This pro-
ceeding was manifestly an interference with Ameri-
can rights under the treaty, and the claim that
local laws were being transgressed was quite un-
tenable, such laws being annulled by the treaty.
Such was the view taken by the British govern-
ment, and damages to the amount of £15,000
were awarded, to be divided among the injured
herring vessels, the total amount of claims being
$105,305. —The present treaty terminated July 4,
1881, and notice having been given by the United
States, its provisions will be invalid after the same
date in 1883, when, unless some new arrangement
be made, our privileges in British waters will be
limited as before, and Canadian fish will no longer
pass into our markets free of duty. —It is impos-
sible in this place to discuss at length the advanta-
ges and disadvantages of the existing treaty. They
may, however, receive passing allusion. The ad-
vantages to the United States were supposed to
be twofold: 1, the right to buy bait in provincial
ports; 2 participation in the inshore mackerel
fishery of the gulf. The first is scarcely worth
considering by treaty makers. The advantage to
the bait seller is equally as great as to the buyer.
Many provincial ports are dependent for liveli-
hood upon trade with American fishing vessels,
and only the most short sighted policy on the part
of Canada and Newfoundland can exclude the only
purchasers from their markets, for every vessel vis-
iting one of their ports expends from $50 to $200.
The second “advantage” strangely enough lost
its value simultaneously with its acquisition. For
half a century previous to the past decade the
* Prof. Hind's charges of intentional falsification of fishery
statistics by the British authorities so widely published, are
not sustained by evidence, and should not be entertained for
a moment. The hundreds of errors which he has pointed
out are evidently the result of inattention on the part of the
responsible persons, and of childish incompetency on that of
the clerks employed in their preparation. .
944
TREATIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
mackerel fleet of New England was engaged for at
least half the season in fishing in the gulf of St. Law-
rence, and sometimes several hundred sails at one
time were in close proximity to, if not within, the
three-mile line. The general adoption of the purse
seine resulted in a complete revolution in the mack-
erel fishery, as is shown in the following table, kind-
ly furnished by Major D. W. Low, of Gloucester :

Yº, total value | Bºi, lºš
* ** 3,i Và, Ui al"I"e1S Of Mºla,CRere
YEARS. §§S sºa sº tºge |Packed Nº. in U. S. Of caught in- caught with-
in Gulf. Barrels. one-eighth. Barrels. Barrel; whole catch side 3-mile in 3-mile
packing off. When sold. ... Ilmit : ... limit;
liberal est. liberal est.
1873------------------------ 254 88,012 11,001 || 77,011 $10.46 $805,535 25,670 $268,508
1874------------------------ 164 63,078 7,885 55,193 6.2 344,956 18,398 114,987
1875------------------------ 95 13,006 1,626 11,380 14.18 161,368 3,793 53,785
1876------------------------ 64 5,495 687 4,808 11.60 55,773 1,603 18,594
1877------------------------ 60 8,365 1,046 7,319 11.10 81,241 2,439 27,072
1878------------------------ 273 -----------|----------- 61,923 4.15 256,980 20,641 85,660
1879------------------------ 44 -----------|----------- 10,796 2.50 26,990 3,599 8,997
1880------------------------ 34 -----------|----------- 7,301 7.72 56,364 2,433 18,783
1881------------------------ 3 ---------------------- 470 8.50 3,995 156 1,326
1888------------------------ 1 -----------|----------- 275 8.50 2,125 95 717
Total ------------------ 993 -----------|----------- 236,476 $7.59% $1,795,327 78,827 $598,429
Yearly average catch per vessel --------------------- - - - - - - - - -
* * * * * * * 238 barrels.
* Average price per barrel.
The number of vessels and their catch in sea-
packed barrels, up to 1880, is from British sources,
with exception of catch of 1878 and 1879, which is
from reports of Boston fish bureau; 1880 and 1881
was from United States fish commission. The ves-
sel in the gulf in 1882 was the schooner Yankee
Lass, of Boston. The market value of some of the
mackerel was increased by scraping and messing
them by the labor of the crews, eatra labor. The
cost of catching the mackerel was much greater
than the price obtained, making an aggregate loss
to those engaged in it. G. BROWN GOODE.
TREATIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
Nov. 29, 1775, the continental congress appointed
a committee of secret correspondence, charged
with the duty of corresponding with the friends of
the colonies in other parts of the world. March
3, 1776, this committee instructed Silas Deane to
go to France, and ascertain from M. de Vergennes
“whether, if the colonies should be forced to form
themselves into an independent state, France
would enter into any treaty or alliance with them
for commerce, or defense, or both.” Sept. 17,
1776, congress adopted a plan of a treaty to be
proposed to the King of France. This plan em-
braced the following political ideas: 1. Equality
with natives in the payment of duties or imposts,
and the enjoyment of privileges, immunities, and
exemptions in trade, navigation and commerce.
This was not incorporated in any treaty actually
concluded by the United States until after the
peace of 1814. 2. Equality between France and
the United States in colonial export duties. 3.
Exemption from the droit d’aubaine. 4. That on
the surrender of contraband of war by the com-
mander of a vessel taken on the high seas in time
of war, the vessel shall be allowed to proceed on
its voyage. 5. That each party may capture
goods the property of citizens of the other when
found in enemy’s ships in time of war. 6. That ves-
sels and property rescued from pirates shall be re-
stored. 7. That the ports of each shall be open to
the prizes of the other without payment of duties,
but shall not be open to the prizes of the enemies
of the other. 8. That if a war breaks out, citi-
zens of one power, residing as merchants in the
dominions of the other, may have time to close
their business and remove their properties. 9.
The citizens of neither power can take out letters
of marque against the other in time of war. 10.
Citizens of each may trade with enemies of the
other in time of war in articles not contraband,
and free ships shall make free goods except as to
articles contraband. 11. Vessels of either coming .
into ports of the other, and not wishing to break
bulk, shall not be obliged to do so, in the absence
of cause for suspicion. 12. Merchant vessels of
one power on the high seas may be visited by ves-
sels of war of the other for the purpose of exam-
ining their sea letters and passports. If these are
found correct the cargoes can not be examined.
The draft also contained several provisions re-
specting the contemplated alliance with France.
— On Feb. 6, 1778, two treaties were concluded
in Paris with France : a treaty of alliance, and a
treaty of amity and commerce. The treaty of al-
liance contained the usual provisions in regard to
mutual action in time of war and in making peace,
and, in article xi., a mutual territorial guarantee,
which afterward became a subject of contention.
France guaranteed to the United States the whole
of their possessions: the United States, in return,
guaranteed to France its then present possessions
in America, and such as it might acquire by a
treaty of peace. The treaty of amity and com-
merce was somewhat less liberal than that pro-
posed by congress, and contained the most favored
nation clause. — Oct. 8, 1782, a treaty of amity
and commerce was concluded with the Nether-
lands ; April 3, 1783, a similar treaty with
Sweden ; Jan. 20, 1783, an armistice with Great
Britain, followed on Sept. 3, 1783, by a definitive
treaty of peace with that power; Dec. 10, 1785, a
treaty of amity and commerce with Prussia; Jan-
uary, 1787, a treaty of peace and friendship with
Morocco; and, Nov. 14, 1788, a consular conven-
tion with France. — These Several treaties, con-
TREATIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
945
. Q
cluded prior to the adoption of the constitution,
are remarkable for the directness and freedom
from doubt with which they assume sovereign
powers to be in the central government: as in
1, the restraints upon duties, charges and fees in
the ports of the several states; 2, the prohibi-
tion of the exaction of the droit d’awbaine in the
states; 3, the permission to aliens to own and dis-
pose of real estate anywhere in the United States;
4, their right to reside and do business in the states
on an equality with natives; 5, their right to wor-
ship after their own faith; 6, the right of foreign
consuls to exercise judicial functions in the Several
states over the estates of their countrymen de-
ceased; 7, their right to exercise police over vessels
of their nationality in American ports, to arrest
the officers and crews of the vessels, and to try
and determine all disputes between them. They
are also remarkable for humane provisions respect-
ing the treatment of prisoners of war, and the
exemption of women, children and non-combatants
from the hardships of war, which have not yet
been universally accepted. — The treaty of peace
with Great Britain recognized valuable fishing
rights on the Grand Banks, in the gulf of St.
Lawrence, and in the bays, harbors and Creeks of
Nova Scotia, the Magdalen islands and Labrador,
as belonging to the citizens of the United States
in common with subjects of Great Britain. —
When Washington became president, he found the
northern frontier of the United States occupied by
British military posts: at Detroit, at Mackinaw,
at Buffalo, at Niagara, at Oswego, at Point au fer,
at Dutchman’s point, and even in the interior of
Ohio. On the south, Spain had established a sta-
tion at Natchez, and was pushing forward to
Wicksburg under pretense of a treaty with Indians
claimed to be independent. Both were intriguing
with the Indians, evidently believing that the
United States must disintegrate, and desiring, as
mearest neighbors, if not next of kin, to obtain
in the dissolution as much as possible. In this
state of things the French revolution broke out;
England took up arms against France; and Spain,
on May 25, 1793, joined England. Meanwhile
France, through an injudicious and irritating en-
voy, was making trouble for Washington, by at-
tempting to fit out privateers for French use, and
to rekindle the dormant feeling of hostility to
England. In addition to a hostile occupation of
our frontiers, England was seizing and confiscating
our nascent commerce under pretenses that had
no right but that of force. Washington was
pressed to cast the fortunes of the United States
on the one side or the other of the great struggle.
In this emergency he sent John Jay, the chief
justice of the United States, to London, as a
special envoy. Nov. 19, 1794, Jay concluded
the treaty which has since borne his name. It
provided for the withdrawal of the British gar-
risons; for the settlement of some disputed points
in the boundaries; for a joint commission to de-
termine what payments should be made by the
United States to Great Britain on account of the
179 VOL. III. — 60
claims of British creditors; and for another joint
commission to determine what payments should
be made by Great Britain to the United States on
account of illegal captures. It reasserted the
power of the federal government over the subject
of land titles in the states, made provision for
consulates, contained a provision (the first one) as
to the extradition of persons charged with crime,
and provisions for regulating commercial inter-
course. It contained no disavowal of the arbi-
trary principles which Great Britain had asserted,
no provisions that free ships should make free
goods, and it granted to Great Britain the privi-
leges for her vessels of war and prizes which
France enjoyed under the treaty of 1778. This
treaty was disclosed by a senator. Its publication
created an intense excitement, which lasted until
the appropriations for carrying it into effect had
passed a subsequent congress. I think it is the
judgment of history, that, with all its shortcom-
ings, it was a wise measure. We came out of the
war of independence poor, with a great debt, with
a depreciated paper currency emitted by the states
and emitted by authority of Congress, with a par-
alyzed business, and with a narrow ribbon of
population along the shores of the Atlantic, of
uncongenial pursuits, with great difficulties of
communication, and with no common historical
traditions prior to the war. With the greatest
difficulty the aversion to a stronger central govern-
ment was overcome. The constitution started its
operation in time of peace, among a people a large
minority of whom, if not an actual majority, was
averse to it. Jay's treaty secured a certainty of
a longer time of peace for it to take root and
grow. If we had not concluded that treaty, we
might have been bound in honor to go to war with
England at that time. I can not see what the re-
sult of such a war would have been: but I can see
that by putting off taking part in the great strug-
gle for eighteen years, we secured precious time
for the people to become accustomed and attached
to the new form of government: and on this I
found my opinion that the measure, however in-
trinsically defective, was a wise turning point in
our history. — Partly in consequence of the con-
duct of Genet, partly in consequence of our re-
fusal to abide by the guarantees of the treaty of
1778, and partly in consequence of the conclusion
of Jay's treaty, a diplomatic rupture took place
with France, accompanied by acts of hostility on
the high seas. Congress, on July 7, 1798, enacted
that the treaties and consular convention with
France were no longer regarded as obligatory.
This state, neither of war nor of peace, was ter-
minated by a treaty in 1800, which was followed,
in 1803, by three conventions; one for the cession
of Louisiana, with a provision putting the com-
merce of France on the footing of the most favored
nation in the ceded ports; one providing for the
mode of payment of 60,000,000 francs to France by
the United States; and one providing for the fur-
ther payment by the United States of 20,000,000
francs to citizens of the United States who had
946
TREATIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
claims against France. The claims excluded from
participating in the division of this sum, constitute
what are known as the French spoliation claims.-
These treaties were assailed at the time of their
conclusion, both on account of the acquisition of
Louisiana, and of their not providing for the pay-
ment of the spoliation claims. Without express-
ing an opinion on the latter point, on the broader
question I may say that history fully justifies the
wisdom of a measure acquiring for us the mouth
of the Mississippi. Jay's treaty and these treaties
had a marked influence on the political history of
the country. They mainly contributed to wrest
the federal government from the hands of those
who favored the adoption of the constitution, and
place it in the hands of those who opposed it.
They thus converted a jealous and astute oli-
garchy in the south from opponents into support-
ers of the new form of government, and made it
their interest to preserve it during the long years
that they held power. When the day of change
at last came, the constitution had ceased to be an
experiment. It had traditions in the national heart
deep enough to protect it. — One other treaty of
this period, the treaty of Oct. 27, 1795, with Spain,
has survived to this time, and proved serviceable
in recent political history. It contained agree-
ments not to embargo the vessels or effects of cit-
izens of either power in the territories of the other,
and that, when arrested, persons should be prose-
cuted according to the ordinary forms of law, and
have the right to employ agents and attorneys, and
to have access to them. In the recent insurrection
in Cuba, the insurgents had on their side every-
thing to appeal to our sympathies. They were
colonists, contending for self-government; hu-
mane men, contending against brute force; aboli-
tionists, struggling against the re-establishment of
slavery. Persons, said to be citizens of the United
States, were seized and imprisoned without law,
and denied access to counsel. Their properties
were embargoed, and their incomes sequestrated.
The treaty of 1795 gave us means of relief with-
out resort to force; and afforded the government
of the peninsula an opportunity of yielding to our
demands without risk of revolution or of being
upset. It requires but little imagination to con-
ceive the evil effects upon the United States of a
war resulting in the conquest of Cuba, and its ad-
mission into the Union subject to the conditions
of the constitution as affected by article XV. of
the amendments. – The Napoleonic wars swept
away all our commercial treaties, except the treaty
of 1795 with Spain. The Dutch subsequently
contended that the treaty of 1782 with the Neth-
erlands survived, but the American government
contended otherwise successfully. Peace was con-
cluded with Great Britain by the treaty signed at
Ghent, Dec. 24, 1814. This treaty contained pro-
visions for settling some parts of the boundaries
that were in dispute, and a declaration against the
slave trade; but it was silent on the subject of im-
pressment and change of allegiance, and of the
rights in the fisheries. On the latter point, a cor-
respondence between John Quincy Adams and
Lord Bathurst ensued. The former contended
that the United States received their interest in the
fisheries on the division of the British empire at
the peace of 1783, and, therefore, could not be de-
prived of it by the abrogation of all treaties caused
by a war. The latter maintained that the rights
of the United States depended upon the existence
of the treaty, and fell with its abrogation. This
view was practically maintained. The treaty was
criticised because it did not contain an abandon-
ment of the right of impressment. This could
not have been obtained from Great Britain ; but
the right has never been enforced since the mari-
time successes of that war, and is now practically
as dead as if it had been abandoned in the treaty.
The same commissioners concluded a commercial
treaty with Great Britain, which was in force four
years by its terms, and was subsequently extended
ten years, and then expired of its own limitation.
In that treaty, it was for the first time agreed that
no higher or other duties or charges should be im-
posed in any of the ports of the United States on
vessels of another power, than those payable in
the same ports by vessels of the United States;
that the same duties should be paid on the impor-
tation into the United States of any articles, the
growth, produce or manufacture of a foreign
power, whether such importation should be made
in vessels of the United States, or in vessels of that
power, and that in all cases where drawbacks were
or might be allowed upon the re-exportation of any
goods, the growth, produce or manufacture of
either country respectively, the amount of the
drawback should be the same, whether the goods
should have been imported in American vessels,
or in vessels of the foreign power. These pro-
visions have often since been inserted in treaties.
— In 1818, a convention was concluded at London
for the definition and regulation of the fisheries,
and also for the further settlement of disputed
boundaries; and a joint occupation of the coun-
try west of the Rocky mountains was agreed
to. The rights conceded to the United States
fishermen by this convention are decidedly less
than those conceded by the treaty of 1783, and
are expressed in language which has given rise to
much contention, the United States contending
that it gives the right to fish within the waters of
the bay of Fundy and other similar waters, and
Great Britain contending otherwise. The treaty
was negotiated, on the part of the United States,
by two eminent diplomatists, but can not be re-
garded as a satisfactory solution of a question
which is, in fact, difficult of solution. I shall
refer later to modifications that have been made
in it. The third article, which provided for the
joint occupation of the territory west of the Rocky
mountains, was, in 1827, extended indefinitely,
with a privilege to each to give twelve months’
notice of a purpose to abrogate and annul it. The
United States gave this notice during President
Polk’s term. The two powers then concluded the
treaty of June 15, 1846, adopting the 49th parallel
TREATIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
947.
'as their line to the middle of the channel separat-
ing the continent from Vancouver's island. It is
to be regretted that the Oregon boundary question
became entangled in party politics. The great
Irish emigration began soon after the settlement
of 1846; and the discovery of gold in California
scarried the stream of population to the shores of
the Pacific. We had everything to gain by delay-
ing the settlement, if it was to be done by com-
promise, as it actually was. But while slavery
existed, there was a strong interest to prevent the .
extension of free territory, and a settlement was
forced which can not be called far-seeing or states-
manlike. — The treaty with Spain of Feb. 22, 1819,
closed a long series of diplomatic discussions re-
lating to the boundaries between Louisiana and
Florida, to condemnations of American vessels by
French consuls within Spanish territories, to the
suspension of the right of deposit at New Orleans
prior to the acquisition of Louisiana, and to the .
fitting out, within the United States, of expeditions
against Spain in aid of the revolutionary colonists.
By the treaty the United States adjusted its south-
•ern boundary by the acquisition of Florida, and
by an agreement as to the line from the gulf of
Mexico to the Pacific; and each party made a gen-
eral renunciation of claims against the other. As
there was little population in Florida, and no set-
tled institutions and form of civilization differing
in spirit and in language from that prevailing in
the United States, the measure was statesmanlike.
It also tended to prolong the rule of the south,
which eventually operated, as already explained,
to increase the chances for the permanency of our
institutions. – The congress of Panama, convened
on the suggestion of Bolivar, aimed to secure mil-
itary, political and commercial alliances. It failed
in all, partly for reasons which make all such at-
tempts quixotic, and partly in consequence of the
existence of slavery in some and not in others of
the powers. An account of the treaties of the
United States would be incomplete without an
allusion to the failure of this the most ambitious
attempt at negotiations. We did, however, con-
clude separate treaties of amity and commerce
with most of the American states of Spanish or
Portuguese origin. — In 1817 congress framed for
the first time a general navigation law, restricting
importations to vessels of the United States, or to
vessels of the country of the origin of the goods.
We find the marks of this legislation in subse-
quent commercial treaties, in the provision that
whatever kind of produce, manufacture or mer-
chandise of any foreign country could be, from
time to time, lawfully imported into the United
States in their own vessels, might also be imported
in the vessels of the other power. — The extending
commerce of the United States also induced the
revival of some of the powers respecting our vessels
in foreign ports, and foreign vessels in our ports,
and disputes of seamen and deserters, which had
been conferred upon consuls by Jefferson's con-
vention of 1788 with France. These important
provisions were for many years inserted in treaties
of Commerce. In 1853 Mr. Everett, as secre-
tary of state, negotiated a purely consular con-
vention with France; and, since then, the cus-
tom has been to treat of these subjects in special
conventions.—During the administration of Gen.
Jackson, great progress was made in adjusting
private claims growing out of the French revolu-
tion. Claims conventions were made with Den-
mark, the Two Sicilies and France. This policy
of solving private international questions by arbi-
tration is well settled in the United States; and
was the subject of comment in the French cham-
ber of peers as early as 1831, when the Baron de
Barante, discussing the French claims convention
of 1831, said of the United States, “Lorscu' on
viole à leur égardles regles de la neutralité, ils ne
font pas la guerre. * * Faire rendre justice à
leurs citoyens est doncun de leurs premier devoirs;
et en cela, ils sont plus à imiter qu' à blåmer. De
sorte que, sans éclater en hostilités, ils se plaignent,
produisent patiemment leurs réclamations; et
quand le jour arrive ou l’ on a besoin de leur bien-
veillance, ou leur amitié pourrait étre à rechercher,
ils profitent de l'occasion, et fontsolderles créances
privées, dont on contestait ou retardait paiement.”
— During the administration of President Tyler
the northeastern boundary, about which there had
for many years been a dispute with Great Britain,
which more than once threatened to come to blows,
was finally settled by yielding to Great Britain a
considerable part of the territory of the state of
Maine. The same treaty introduced the policy of
joint efforts for the suppression of the slave trade,
and contained the only agreement which had then
been made, since Jay’s treaty, with any power for
the surrender of persons charged with the com-
mission of crime. Since then, extradition treaties
have been made with most of the powers with
which we have diplomatic relations, and the cata-
logue of crimes upon which the treaties operate
has been much extended, as will be seen by com-
paring the list of crimes in article II. of the treaty
of June 13, 1882, with Belgium, with that con-
tained in article X. of the Webster-Ashburton
treaty. — During the administration of Mr. Polk
two important political treaties were made. The
first placed our commercial relations with China on
a treaty basis, and gave us the right of exterritori-
al jurisdiction within defined limits. The second
terminated the war with Mexico by a treaty which
annexed California to the United States. The in-
fluence of the latter upon the fortunes of the coun-
try was instant and decisive. The influence of
the former upon the destinies of China is begin-
ning to be apparent. — During the same adminis-
tration the first international postal convention
was concluded. As early as 1787 France invited
the United States to make such a convention. In
the reorganization of the government the Scheme
fell through, and sixty years elapsed before a
postal treaty was made. In the course of another
thirty years the system was vastly improved, and
has become universal. — The same administration
concluded with New Grenada a treaty whereby
948
TREATIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
the United States agreed to guarantee the neutral-
ity of the isthmus of Panama, and the rights of
sovereignty and property of New Grenada there-
in. The United States invited Great Britain in
1849 to join in this guarantee. No answer was
given to the invitation; but in April of that year
the treaty known as the Clayton-Bulwer treaty was
concluded. This treaty has given rise to more
questions than it contains articles. Before ratifi-
cations were exchanged, a question arose whether
it should apply to the Belize. Then discussions
were had about the canal to which it should ap-
ply, and at the end of two years it was settled that
it should apply to the Hise grant. Then Great
Britain for some years tried to evade its operation
upon the Mosquito Indians. Then it had pro-
longed negotiations with Nicaragua, Costa Rica
and Honduras, in order to dispose of the Indians.
By this time the rebellion broke out, and the in-
terest of the United States in the question was sus-
pended. The grant of canal franchises to the
French company revived interest in it. Then the
United States proposed to abrogate most of the
treaty, which Great Britain declined. Then the
president, in 1882, informed Great Britain, that the
treaty having been made with a view to the con-
struction of a canal under the Hise grant, and the
same having become impracticable for causes for
which Great Britain alone was responsible, the
United States did not regard the treaty as longer
binding. The policy of making this treaty has
been much questioned; but it certainly dispos-
sessed Great Britain of an important military,
naval and political position on the isthmus, at a
time when the relative strength of the two powers
was very different from what it is now; and, as
construed by the United States, it contains no
continuing engagements to embarrass us. Judged
by these results the measure was wise. When the
question was slumbering after a rest of over
twenty years, it was revived by the proposition to
abrogate the treaty. In spite of the distinguished
names supporting that act, I can not but regard it
as unwise. The question was not at that moment
what is called “a burning question”; it could have
rested, perhaps, for many years, before a solution
would have been necessary; and meanwhile the
relative strength of the two powers was every day
changing in our favor. —In President Pierce's time
the adhesion of the United States was asked to the
declarations of the congress of Paris, and answer
was made that the president proposed to add to the
first proposition the words “And that the private
property of the subjects or citizens of a belligerent
on the high seas shall be exempted from seizure by
public armed vessels of the other belligerent, unless
it be contraband.” This was not acceded to.
When the Franco-German war broke out, the
French minister notified the secretary of state that
in the war France would conform to the declara-
tion of Paris; and the German minister notified him
that private property on the high seas would be
exempted from seizure by vessels of war, without
regard to reciprocity. — During the same presi-
dential term a treaty was concluded with Great
Britain for reciprocity in the free admission of
certain enumerated articles between the United
States and what is now known as the Dominion
of Canada, and for the common enjoyment of the
British inland fisheries by both peoples. I can
not but regard this as a wise and statesmanlike
treaty, which would have led to a nearer political
connection with Canada. The war, however, en-
abled some Canadians to show a spiteful feeling
toward us, to which congress responded by the
abrogation of the treaty. Since that day Canada
has been drifting away from the United States in
legislation and policy. — The United States are
founded upon the right of persons at their own
election to abandon an old allegiance and acquire.
a new one. Yet this principle did not receive the
formal adhesion of any other power until Feb.
22, 1868, when the naturalization treaty with the
North German Union was signed. Since then,
similar treaties have been entered into with Bava-
ria, Mexico, Baden, Würtemberg, Hesse, Bel-
gium, Sweden and Norway, Great Britain, Aus-
tria-Hungary, Ecuador and Denmark. The prin-
ciples recognized in these treaties are, that an
agreed term of residence in the new country is.
necessary before the change of allegiance will be:
recognized by the old; and that a resumption of
residence in the old country without intent to
return may be taken to be an abandonment of the
acquired citizenship. — The same period saw a
series of agreements made for the protection of
trade marks. This arrangement has been made
with Russia, Belgium, France, Austria-Hungary,
Germany, Spain, Great Britain and Brazil. — The
close of the war left questions pending with Great
Britain growing out of captures by vessels of war
fitted out on British territory ; and claims by
Great Britain against the United States on behalf
of British subjects injured in their persons or prop-
erties by the forces of the United States. There
were also differences growing oilf of alleged inter-
ferences with the fishermen of the United States.
There was, too, a difference in the construction of
the treaty of 1847 for settling the northwestern
boundary. That convention required the line,
after leaving the mainland, to proceed to the mid-
dle of the channel which separates the Continent
from Vancouver's island, and thence Southerly,
through the middle of said channel and of Fuca’s.
strait, to the Pacific ocean. There were three:
channels: the Rosario to the east, the Douglass in
the middle, and the Canal de Haro to the West.
Both parties agreed that the Douglass was not the
main channel. Great Britain claimed the Rosario.
as that channel; the United States the Canal de
Haro. The treaty concluded at Washington on
May 8, 1871, was intended to determine all these
questions. It provided for a tribunal of arbitra-
tion at Geneva for the settlement of the Alabama
claims, and laid down three rules for the govern-
ment of the tribunal, which the two powers agreed
to communicate to other powers. It arranged for
a claims commission to sit at Washington and de-
TRENT AFFAIR.
949
•cide upon the British claims. It agreed to restore
the fishermen of the United States to the rights
enjoyed under the abrogated reciprocity treaty,
for a term of years for a limited reciprocal com-
mercial arrangement, and the payment of a sum
of money to be determined by a joint commis-
sion, to sit at Halifax. It provided for common
enjoyment of the waters of the lakes and ca-
mals; and it referred the settlement of the bound-
ary dispute to the arbitration of the emperor of
'Germany. In due time these questions were dis-
posed of in the manner provided by the treaty.
The decisions, so far as they were adverse to the
United States, have been the subject of criticism
here ; and so far as they were adverse to Great
Britain, of criticism there. My own judgment
is, that, without dwelling upon details, the pres-
tige and influence of the United States, and the
respect in which it was held in other parts of the
world, were decidedly increased by this treaty,
and by the proceedings which took place under
it. — During President Hayes' term the treaty
with China was modified so as to allow the United
States to regulate, limit or suspend the coming of
Chinese to the United States or their residence
here, but not to absolutely prohibit it. Congress
exercised this power to the extreme limit allowed
by a liberal construction of the treaty. During
the same term a convention was proclaimed which
had been concluded during the presidency of Gen.
Grant, providing for the establishment of an in-
ternational bureau of weights and measures; and
a convention was concluded with the emperor of
Morocco and the principal powers of Europe for
the purpose of better defining the right of protec-
tion of Christian powers in that Mussulman king-
dom. – In President Arthur's time the United
;States have acceded to the international conven-
tion for the amelioration of the wounded in ar-
mies in the field; and a general treaty of friend-
ship and commerce has been concluded with Mad-
agascar. — The collection of treaties made in 1873,
and revised in 1876, contains, in all, 255 instru-
ments. Twenty-nine have since been added to it.
Of the whole 284 some have become entirely ob-
solete, others in part so, either through their own
limitation, by agreement of parties, by notice
given by one party to terminate, by absorption of
the contracting party into another nationality, by
effect of war, or by act of congress. A reference
to the notes to that collection will give informa-
tion in detail on these points. – A treaty made
under authority of the United States is, under the
constitution, in common with laws made in pur-
'suance of the constitution, the supreme law of
the land. It is subject to the constitution, and
is inoperative when conflicting with it. It over-
rides all state laws in conflict with it. It overrides
:all laws of the United States in conflict with it
and anterior to it; but, within the territory of the
United States, and in its operation upon officers
of the United States, it is controlled by laws en-
acted by congress after its conclusion. For mu-
nicipal purposes it ceases to be law; internation-
ally the duty of observing it is not weakened by
municipal law. — One thing more is to be re-
marked. Our treaties in two languages, with
powers not using the English language, have
rarely been the subject of contention as to con-
struction. On the other hand, we have made few
treaties with Great Britain, with which we use the
English language in common, the construction of
which has not been more or less in dispute. —
During the revolution, and up to the adoption of
the constitution, it was the custom to make the
agreements of the United States with Indian
tribes in the form of treaties. This practice was
continued under the new form of government.
The constitution, by declaring treaties already
made, as well as those to be made, to be the su-
preme law of the land, has adopted and Sanc-
tioned the previous treaties with the Indian na-
tions, and consequently admits their rank among
the powers which are capable of making treaties.
Nevertheless, such treaties are not the treaties
which form the subject of this article.
J. C. BANCROFT DAVIS.
TRENT AFFAIR, The (IN U. S. HISTORY).
In the autumn of 1861 the government of the
confederate states (see that title) sent J. M. Mason
and John Slidell as commissioners to Great Britain
and France respectively. They ran the blockade
to Havana, and there embarked on an English
merchant steamer, the “Trent,” for St. Thomas,
on their way to England. About noon of Nov.
8 the vessel was stopped in the old Bahama chan-
nel by the United States steamer “San Jacinto,”
Capt. Wilkes, and the commissioners were taken
Out of her and transferred to Fort Warren, in
Boston harbor, as prisoners. — Capt. Wilkes' act
was warmly approved by the people of the United
States; but he had nevertheless transgressed the
neutral rights for which the United States had
always contended, and he had undertaken to put
in force the right of visitation and search which
the United States had found insufferable when it
was claimed by Great Britain. (See EMBARGO.)
The United States government therefore disa-
vowed his action, and surrendered the prisoners
to Great Britain. There was, however, a residu-
um of American ill-feeling toward Great Britain
because of the British government's officious prep-
arations for an improbable war. Before giving
the United States any opportunity for explanation
or disavowal, the British ministry prepared troops
and transportation for Canada, forbade by procla-
mation the exportation of arms and munitions of
war, and instructed Lord Lyons, its minister at
Washington, to withdraw from the United States
unless the prisoners were set at liberty and an
apology tendered within a time “not exceeding
seven days.”—See Diplomatic Correspondence for
1861–2, and authorities under REBELLION, as 2
Draper's Civil War, 540. -
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
TUNGUSIC RACES. (See TARTAR)
º
950
, TURREY.
TURKEY. (Turkish, Dowlet el Othmamié, or
Ottoman Rule, also Othmamié vilayet?, or Ottoman
provinces. Ottoman Empire and Sublime Porte
—Sublimine porta!—are the two phrases used in
treaties. Through Asia and in most Mohamme-
dan communities, as well as through Moslem his-
tory, the Turkish dominion is El Roum and its
head Sultan el Roum, in allusion to his succession
... to the lower Roman empire.) The term Tur-
key is in general limited to the territory directly
occupied by the Turkish empire, a territory in
which Turks constitute probably less than one-
twentieth of the population, and the term Turk-
ish empire is in general confined to the govern-
ment carried on by this small fraction of the
population. Under this government, a num-
ber of races preserve a distinct organization,
tribal, ecclesiastical or territorial, and the terri-
tory recognized in treaties as the Turkish em.
pire, the government carried on by the Turks
and the races inhabiting Turkey, must be care-
fully distinguished in the study and discussion of
this subject. The territory of the Turkish empire
consists of the four provinces in Europe im-
mediately subject to the porte; the organized
province of eastern Roumelia, the autonomous
but tributary state of Bulgaria; the two prov-
inces of Bosnia and Herzegovina, “occupied and
administered ” by Austria; the Asiatic prov-
inces, including two in Arabia, directly sub-
ject to the Turkish government; the tributary
principality of Samos; the autonomous admin-
istration of Crete; Cyprus, occupied, subject to
fixed charges, by Great Britain; Egypt, whose
relations are discussed elsewhere under that title;
and the single African province directly sub-
ject to the porte, Tripoli. The extent of this
territory and its population is, from the lack
of statistics, extremely indefinite. The follow-
ing statement can not be considered more than
approximate :
Turkey in Europe: Eil. Car. Pop.
Immediate possessions-------------- 165,438 4,490,000
Eastern Roumelia------------------- 35,901 815,946
Bosnia and Herzegovina (occupied
sº ;:------------- 61,065 } 1,158,440
jak of Novi Bazar------------ 168,000
Bulgaria (tributary)----------------- 63,972 1,998,983
326,376 8,631,400
Turkey in Asia:
Immediate possessions, including Ara-
bian provinces-------------------- 1,889,055 16,132,900
Samos------------------------------ 468 40,089
1,889,523 16,152,989
Turkey in Africa:
Tripoli (province).------------------- 1,033,350 1,010,000
Egypt (dependency)----------------- 2,987,000 17,577,000
4,020,350 18,587,000
Turkish empire------------------------ 6,236,250 43,391,000
Immediate possessions---------------- 3,087,850 21,633,000
Dependencies------------------------- 3,148,400 21,758,000
In Europe the area, undetermined, of the sand-
jak of Novi Bazar, with a population of 168,000,
is still under Turkish administration, although
a part of Herzegovina. In Asia the only por-
tions of Arabia under the organized control of
the Turkish government are the two vilayets of
Habesh, or Hedjaz and Yemen, and the Haram.
(sacred) containing Mecca. These contain a pop-
ulation of 1,296,845. In Egypt the figures giv-
en above exclude Kordofan, Darfur and several
provinces in the Soudan having a territory of
1,000,000 square miles, and a population of 10,800-
000, whose successful revolt in 1883 renders their
distant connection with the empire doubtful.
Servia (48,950 kil. car.; and 700,211 pop.) and
Montenegro (9,030 kil. car.; 236,000 pop.) were
dependencies up to the treaty of Berlin. — The
boundaries of Turkish territory, exclusive of ap-
panages, are the product neither of geographical
lines nor ethnical divisions; but of a long series of
treaties, of which the last and most important is
the treaty of Berlin, signed July 13, 1878. Under
this treaty the northern boundary of European
Turkey still includes Bosnia and Herzegovina,
which, with the exception of the sandjak of Novi
Bazar, are for all practical purposes Austrian.
Serbia next bounds Turkey to the Danube, and
the space between this river and the Balkans is.
occupied by the tributary state of Bulgaria, with
the exception of the Dobrudja and the additional
territory lying north of a line drawn from Siles-
tria. On the Danube to the Black sea, south of
Mangolia. The Black Sea, the Bosphorus, the Sea.
of Marmora, and the Hellespont and the AEgean,
constitute the remaining boundaries of Turkey in
Europe until Greece is reached. The present.
boundary between the two countries was deter-
mined by an international boundary commission
acting under the Berlin treaty, but following the
line determined upon at the Constantinople con-
ference in 1881. Instead of the original line from,
the mouth of the Kalamas to that of the Salym-
bria river, the new boundary, which ceded 265,
geographical miles, or two-thirds the area under
the original award, starts from Kara Derwent, on
the gulf of Salonica, follows the southern ridge.
of the Olympus, passes south of Messova, and
reaches the Adriatic by crossing the valley of the
Arta, of which Greece receives two-thirds. The
Adriatic forms the western boundary of Turkey,
except where the Berlin treaty gave Montenegro,
(Czernagora) an approach to the sea by ceding
Antivari. The 1,814 square miles constituting
the previous area of Montenegro were also en-
larged by adding from Herzegovina the districts.
of Banzani, Rudine, Nicsic, Duga, Piva, Drobu-
zak, Yezera, Kolashin and Saranci, 1,167 Square.
miles, and from Albania, Spuz, Podgoritza, Zab-
lyak, Plava Gusigne, Antivari and Krazina, 661
square miles; in all, 1,828. Turkey in Asia has.
natural sea boundaries on the north and west,
while Arabia in a sense bounds it on the South.
Its eastern boundary begins, under the Berlin.
treaty, at Makialos, on the Black Sea, and, running
southeast in an irregular line, rejoins the old
boundary just beyond Kaghizemann. This ces--
sion to Russia included Batoum, Kars and Arda-
TURREY.
951
han, of which the last is the only place with a
population of 5,000. An additional tract one-third
as large, including Bajazet, ceded by the treaty of
San Stefano, was retained by Turkey, its posses-
Sion greatly improving its strategic line about the
headwaters of the Euphrates. At the same time
the new boundary between Turkey and Persia, by
ceding to the former the town of Kotovi, gave a
Russian ally control of the headwaters of the
Araxes. The Turkish sovereignty over Arabia
is practically limited to Mecca, Medina, their port
Jiddah and Yemen, a large tract in the inte-
rior extending to the Persian gulf being under
independent control, while the desert region be-
tween Arabia proper, Syria and Mesopotamia,
maintains a precarious independence. Turkish
authority is also limited in Armenia, where the
powers have a treaty right of interference; in
the pashalic of Lebanon, a tract eighty-seven
miles long, which can only be governed by the
porte through a Christian pasha, satisfactory to
the powers supporting the French occupation in
1861; in eastern Roumelia an autonomous prov-
ince South of the Balkans, also governed by a
Christian pasha; in Samos, an independent trib-
utary principality; in Crete, an autonomous prov-
ince; in Cyprus, under British control; and, as
already mentioned, in Bosnia and Herzegovina.
These limitations sufficiently indicate the intricate
nature of the sovereignty enjoyed by the sultan,
whose character is more clearly conveyed by the in-
definite native term “Ottoman Rule” than by any
exact term. — The ethnical character of the Turk-
ish empire is the result of successive conquests,
which have associated widely different races with-
Out uniting them in a common political society, or
amalgamating them by ties of blood and intermar-
riage; a circumstance which explains much in the
arrested development of Turkey. The European
territory of the empire is inhabited by Indo-Euro-
peans, Slaves and Greeks, with (probable) rem-
nants of aboriginal tribes in Albania. The islands
of the AEgean, Asia Minor, and the mountains
which connect its central plateau with the Cauca-
sus, are, in the main, inhabited by Indo-European
races, Greek, Armenian and Kourdish succeeding
each other from west to east. Syria and the great
plain to the east is, in general, inhabited by races
Semitic in origin, whose blood grows purer to-
ward the south. The one notable exception is in
Trak-Arabia, the borderland between Persia and
the southeastern extremity of Mesopotamia,where
a strong Indo-European element appears. Scat-
tered over this entire area, but growing infrequent
in the south and rarely occurring in European
Turkey, are nomadic Tatar tribes still living in
the black tents of the steppes. The government
of the realm is in the hands of a comparatively
small body of “Turks,” the descendants of the
Original Tatar invaders, of prominent and leading
families, which adopted the religion of, and were
incorporated with, the conquerors, at varying in-
tervals during the 700 years ending with the
eighteenth century, and of the constant acces-
Sions to this ruling class from captives in war, or
the steady draft made for 500 years (1300–1800) on
the male children of subject races. The Moslem
and Christian creeds have maintained one great
division in the empire, language has done more,
and the great difficulties of communication have
maintained separate and distinct some populations
almost pure in race and blood. But these influ-
ences have all been so modified by time and con-
quest, the great Solvents of race, that a complete
change in character without an alteration in form
has often taken place, not unlike that occurring
in a pseudomorphic crystal. A “Turk” may be
one or two generations removed from a pure Hel-
lenic descent, a “Greek” have none but Slave
blood in his veins, and a “Bulgarian’’ be the de-
scendant of a peasant proprietor of the Roman
period. — Statistics in regard to racial and relig-
ious divisions in the empire are mere estimates. It
is probable that about one-third of the population
of European Turkey is Mohammedan, most esti-
mates agreeing at this point. In Asiatic Turkey
the Mohammedan population constitutes the larger
portion ; but the usual estimate which gives it
Seven-eighths of the total is an exaggeration.
Over thirty years ago Ubicini, who placed the to-
tal population 50 per cent. too high, gave the num-
ber of Armenians at 2,400,000, Greeks 2,000,000,
Rurds 1,000,000, Slaves 6,500,000, and Arabs
900,000; while frequently quoted, these figures
are mere approximations. If the term Ottoman
or Turk is limited to the ruling class, the Turks
constitute an extremely small fraction of the
whole. If it is extended to the large Turkish-
speaking population of Asia Minor and Arme-
nia, and the smaller fraction using the same lan-
guage in European Turkey, it includes nearly
all the Moslem population in these divisions
of the empire. But, while Turkish came to be
the Mohammedan tongue in the region long oc-
cupied by the Seljuks, and first conquered by
the Turkish Sultans, the line of the caliphate
dominion can still be traced by the prevalence of
Arabic as the Moslem tongue among the races,
chiefly Semitic, south of the Taurus, which
checked the Arab advance. Greek is the fa-
miliar tongue of the Seacoast of Asia Minor,
which remained in Byzantine hands long after
the interior was occupied by Turkish. In Euro-
pean Turkey, Greek and Greeks are superseded
in the interior by Bulgarian. Eastern Roumelia,
lying south of the Balkans, has 573,560 Bul-
garians, 174,700 Turks, 42,659 Greeks, 19,549
Gypsies, 4,177 Armenians and 1,306 Jews. In
Thrace and Macedonia this proportion would be
reversed. The Armenians and Kurds, compara-
tively recent Turkish conquests, indicate the purity
of their stock by the use of their own language.
The empire contains, besides the races already
named, in Europe, Albanians (Skipetars), Zingari,
a mixed Slave-Greek race, and small settlements of
Ukraine Tatars and Circassians. In Asia, besides
the leading races of Ottomans, Arabs, Armenians,
Greeks and Kurds, there are Druses and Maronites
952
TURREY.
in Mount Lebanon, Yezidis, the fire-worshipers
of Mesopotamia, and large wandering Turkoman
tribes on the plateau of Asia Minor, to which the
Circassian immigration of recent years has added
a new element. While modern Turkish law af-
fects to regard all these races as Ottoman subjects,
each has retained its individuality, the larger di-
visions manage their own internal affairs, and
scattered communities and districts maintain a
separate existence of their own. — Over this diver.
sified territory and these still more heterogeneous
races, the Turkish government is Superimposed,
obtaining its original authority by conquest and
the high administrative ability of early Sultans.
This power has been retained in the lack of any
subject peoples equal alone to rebellion, and
through the early policy which early incorporated
the natural leaders of the local races among the
conquerors. Historically the successor of the
Parthian empire, like it the result of an invasion
from central Asia, and more successful in organ-
izing an army than in civil sway, the Turkish rule
leaves behind it no civil monuments but buildings
constructed by Greek and Semitic architects.
The circumstance that the Turkish invaders
adopted the Mohammedan religion has profound-
ly influenced the policy of the empire; but it has
no more changed the character of its rule than the
like adoption of the local cult of China has altered
the essential character of the Machu conquest, or
left it other than an invasion encamped in a pal-
ace. Politically the empire of the sultan is divid-
ed, in part by geographical conditions, and in part.
by race and language, into certain grand divisions,
accepted in discussions of the eastern question,
and familiar in its diplomatic correspondence; but
these divisions are undefined and have no admin-
istrative significance. Turkey in Europe is di-
vided in its eastern lialſ by the Balkans into Bul-
garia and Roumelia, the latter having an eastern
and western division, and covering, in the extension
given it by Turkey and the treaty of San Stefano,
Thrace and Macedonia. Albania occupies the re-
mainder of European Turkey. Asiatic Turkey is
divided, after the same loose fashion, into Anatolia,
or Asia Minor, Armenia, Kurdistan, Mesopotamia,
Syria, and the triangular plain between, usually
assigned to Arabia on maps, but in all senses part
of the empire. These divisions, used much more
frequently in foreign discussion of the empire
than its actual divisions, correspond very closely
in use to the ‘‘ north,” “south,” “Pacific slope,”
“west,” “northwest,” as employed in the United
States; convenient but by no means exclusive, and
often misleading, divisions. The only territorial
divisions having a political and administrative
significance, are vilayets, provinces or govern-
ments general, closely analogous to the French
department, and governed by a wali ; sandjaks,
arrondissements governed by mutessarifs; kayas,
cantons, governed by karmakaurs; nahiés, town-
ships, towns or communes, governed by mudirs;
and lastly villages, which in European Turkey
have as their head a kodja bashi, and in Asiatic
Turkey a kahya, usually of local selection. — Of
these divisions the vilayet is the successor of the
Byzantine thema, whose boundaries many existing
vilayets follow, and the sandjak is generally the
representative of one of the ancient military fiefs,
which, under the earlier sultans, were ruled by a
semi-independent and hereditary bey, who fur-
mished a contingent of troops, generally horse.
Shortly after the conquest of Constantinople, the
Byzantine province was adopted as the new unit
of administration, the sandjaks being grouped for
this purpose under the government of a wali, or
prefect, as the word is used in Arabic history. The
practical result of this difference between the ori-
gin of these two divisions, is, that the vilayet is
often bounded by an artificial or official line,
while the sandjak, particularly in European Tur-
key and in the mountainous regions of Asiatic Tur-
key, represents a natural and historical division
of territory. The sandjaks of European Turkey,
whose arrangement in vilayets has not been per-
manent since the treaty of Berlin, are Monastix
Korytya, Prisrend, Urhkul and Debra in the vil-
ayet of Monastir, Jannina, Prevesa, Argyro Kastro
Berat and Trikala, the vilayet of Jannina; Salon-
ica Seres and Drama, vilayet of Salonica, Adrian-
ople, Rodosto and Gallipoli, vilayet of Adrian-
ople. The old sandjaks of Phillipopolis and Sliv-
no constitute eastern Roumelia and Rutschuk,
Tultiha, Varna, Tirnova and Widdin, Bulgaria.
Novi Bazar and Scutari are sandjaks under a sep-
arate administration. The vilayets of Asiatic
Turkey, nineteen in number, have remained un-
changed through a long period. Constantinople,
rather a metropolitan district than a vilayet; Brusa;
Aidin; Kastamuni(Paphlagonia); Angora (Bozok);
Konieh (Iconium), or Karamania; Adana (Cili-
cia); Sivas (Cappadocia); and Trebizond (Pon-
tus and Colchis); make up Asia Minor. Erzerum
and Kharput cover Armenia and part of Kurdis-
tan. Part of the latter is to be found in the vil-
ayets of Diarbekir and Mosul. Mosul also extends
into Mesopotamia, whose southern portion is the
vilayet of Baghdad. Syria is divided into Aleppo
and Syria proper, with its capital at Damascus.
The islands of the AEgean and Rhodes make a
separate vilayet, as did Cyprus. Crete ranks as a
European vilayet. The two Arabian vilayets are
Hedjaz and Yemen, or Habesh, and Hedjer, or the
Haram. Tripoli is also a vilayet. In the above
summary, the classical division corresponding
most closely to the vilayet is given. These ad-
ministrative divisions originated, however, like
the entire framework of Turkish administration,
in the Byzantine empire. The Byzantine thema
and vilayet are substantially the same unit, and
their respective boundaries closely correspond.
Asiatic Constantinople corresponds to thema Op-
timaton, with its eastern end curtailed by early
Turkish conquest; thema Opsikion is Brusa; Ai-
din, thema Thrakesian, the Turkish administration
still preserving the division which consigned a
part of the seacoast to the same government as the
adjacent islands. Themata Anatolikon and Ki-
TURREY.
953
byrrhaioton are substantially Konieh, Seljuk con-
quests having extended the original coast line of
the southern province and including Lake Tchölli
On the northeast. Adana differs little from thema
Seleukeias. Various causes have united to modify
the Euxine provinces, and their relation to the
Byzantine divisions is less apparent. The short-
lived empire of Trebizond determined the littoral
Vilayet of that name, and Kastamumi, Angora and
Sivas are the survivals of independent sultanates,
:as are in all probability Kharput, Erzerum and
Diarbekir. South of this point the administrative
divisions of the caliphate exercise their influence
on the political geography of Turkey. — Govern-
ment. . The Turkish government is an absolute
despotism, tempered by the democratic equality of
Moslem law. A standing army, a most unusual
resource in oriental history, has supported it from
: an early period. Its administration has followed
Byzantine models, and the loose character of its
conquest led to the large grant and exercise of
local government and administration among sub-
ject races. Only within a recent period has an
organized bureaucracy been attempted, and with
but partial success. The adoption by a Tartar
conquest of the forms of a Semitic caliphate,
modified by European (Roman and modern) ad-
ministration, fills the political forms of the Turk-
ish rule with contradictions which render a co-
herent statement difficult. — The three strands
of Turkish administration, civil (legislative, ju-
dicial and administrative), military and relig-
ious, all ruń back to the sultan, whose titles
sufficiently express his relation to each. As “Ca-
liph of the Prophet of God” and “Emir el Mou-
menien,” (Commander of the Faithful), he is the
spiritual head and military commander of Mos-
lems. In one capacity he has the right to inter-
pret the Koran and Moslem traditions, and is
hence at the head of Moslem law. In the other he
has a claim upon the military service of Moslems,
two capacities further supported by the fact that
he is “Guardian of the Sacred Places,” not de jure
but de facto, and is hence employing his spiritual
, and temporal powers in protecting Moslem rites.
This control in addition gives him a predomi-
nant influence over the three chief sources of
Moslem doctrine, in the sheriff of Mecca ; the
sheikh-ul-islam at Constantinople, his spiritual
deputy; and the mosque of Akkbar at Cairo. The
reigning prince of the house of Othman is, in ad-
dition, in his own right, “ Khan,” that is, prince
of his tribe ; “Sultan of Sultans,” and “Ruler of
the Two seas and Two lands which make up the
Ottoman realm, by the right of the Sword.” In
theory, therefore, the Sultan is the prescriptive
head of his Moslem subjects under Moslem law,
and the absolute ruler and conqueror of other
races in his dominions. Nor, lowever modified
by treaties or obscured by European administra-
tion, does this distinction ever altogether disappear.
—Legislative authority vests absolutely in the Sov-
cereign as caliph and Sultan, spiritual and tempo-
ral prince. Turkish law itself is divided into two
great divisions, the sheriadt, or spiritual law, and
the kanoumi (rules), or temporal law. The former
is derived from the Koran, the traditions of the
prophet, and the decisions of his immediate suc-
cessors. In theory, this law is fixed and immu-
table; but, as the only Supreme authority in its in-
terpretation is the spiritual deputy of the sultan,
and ten centuries have accumulated in addition
contradictory rescripts, or fetvahs, the sheriaät can
be accommodated in practice to any exigency.
Stare decisis is, however, imbedded in Turkish law
in the phrase “The gates are here closed,” and
Turkish, like all Moslem jurisprudence, is full of
instances of judicial resistance to an absolute mon-
arch. The kanoumi is the act of the prince pro-
prio motu, like the constitutions of civil law, after
which it is modeled, and from which it is directly
derived. Codified by Ibrahim Halebi (of Aleppo),
under the reign of Solyman I., the multégua bears
at every turn the influence of the Justinian code,
and is a laborious attempt to unite in one the civil
legislation and judicial decisions of the Moslem
law. It remains the final authority in Turkish
courts, but has been modified by the Hatti Sherif
of Gulhaneh (Nov. 3, 1839), in which the Sultan
Abdul Medjid declared equal rights; Hatti Hum-
azoum, 1856, in which religious liberty was enact-
ed; a penal code, 1840; a commercial code, copied
from the French, 1840, etc. In the contradicto-
ry progress of recent years, these have been great-
ly multiplied by a maze of decrees. Besides the
Moslem law, the subject races are, for many pur-
poses—marriage, divorce, legacies, larcenies, lesser
offenses, and cases relating to ecclesiastical bene-
fices and succession—under their own canon law.
The principle of exterritoriality extends over for-
eigners resident in Turkey, the jurisdiction of con-
sular courts; each administering the municipal
law of its origin. — The sheikh-ul-islam is the ulti-
mate judicial authority of the empire, his fetvah,
in the form of an answer to a case stated, decid-
ing all administrative and judicial issues. The an-
cient courts of the empire (sheri courts) consist of
the high court of appeal (aryodaci), divided into
two chambers (Soudours), presided over by the
cadi-asker of Roumelia, or European Turkey, and
the cadi-asker of Anatolia, or Asiatic Turkey,
each having the jurisdiction indicated. Subordi-
nate courts exist for each of the mevlievets, or
grand judicial districts, which include several
kayas. These judicial divisions do not correspond
with the vilayet and sandjak, being less in num-
ber and differently arranged. Constantinople and
Mecca are the first two, and the other divisions of
the empire are arranged in three classes. The or-
ganization of the three series of courts is the same,
consisting of a cadi, judge, varying in rank, but
always a mollah who pronounces the decision ; a
mufti, who expounds the law ; naibs, or deputies;
and kiatibs, or notaries. Appointments to all
judicial positions are annual, revocable, and di-
vided according to rank between the Sultan,
sheikh-ul-islam, cadi-askers and lower judges.
The distinction between civil and criminal law is
954
TURKEY.
not observed in the courts; corruption exists in
all, and the practice is of the loosest description.
Judicial positions are filled from the ulema, or
learned men, graduates of schools (medrerrehs)
connected with the mosques. Judicial salaries are
paid out of a tax on suits. “Mixed” civil and
penal tribunals for the trial of cases between Ot-
toman subjects and foreigners, and between Mos-
lems and Christians, exist in the capital and sea-
ports on the French model, with a court of cassa-
tion (Mekheméh e Temyzi) at Constantinople. —
In the civil administration of the empire the sul-
tan is the final source of authority and appoint-
ment, acting through his personal representative,
the grand vizier, an office abolished during the
brief period of constitutional reform under Mid-
hat Pasha, but restored, with some loss of position,
on the abolition of the paper constitution of 1878.
An elaborate administrative organization on Eu-
ropean models, succeeding in some instances to
analogous departments under the old régime, fur-
nishes ministries of foreign affairs, war, marine,
artillery, interior affairs, justice, finances, com-
merce and agriculture, public instruction, religious
tenets, public works. Of these, the foreign af-
fairs corresponds to the reis effendi of earlier his-
tory, the subordinate title indicating the superior
position in all foreign relations claimed by the
Sublime porte up to a very recent period, while
the circumstance that the “dragoman,” or inter-
preter of the ministry, fills as important a posi-
tion in practical negotiations as the minister, in its
way illustrates the long period in which the Turk-
ish government refused the use of any language
but its own in diplomatic negotiations. The min-
ister of war is the successor of the seraskier, whose
office, while distinct, in warlike reigns was always
held by the grand vizier. The minister of marine
succeeds the capitan pasha, a title by a familiar
blunder often appearing in European history as a
name. The minister of artillery remains the soli-
tary survival of the ancient superiority of Turkey
in this weapon. The other ministries are of Eu-
ropean origin, with the exception of the religious
tenets, organized as one of the reforms of Mah-
moud II. The ministries holding these portfo-
lios are organized on the French model in a coun-
cil of state, or ‘‘divan,” under the presidency of
the Sultan, or of a special minister appointed for
the purpose. There is, besides, a privy council
and a “Senate,” the successor of the old imperi-
al “Medjliss,” in which the subject races were
and are represented, membership in which it
would be difficult to define; but both the vizier,
the Sheikh-ul-islam and the leading pashas, with
the heads of the six nations, sit in it. The re-
maining Organization of the government needs no
remark Save that the polyglot character of the
empire has given a disproportionate importance
to the bureau of rescripts and translation, the
calamizeh, and it has for fifty years furnished
the ablest Ottoman administrators the few among
their number enjoying special training. High
appointments have, from time immemorial, been
made from among the personal attendants of the
Sultan and the pashas, caprice governing the se-
lection. — Provincial administration in vilayets.
is committed to the wali, assisted by a defterdar,
book-keeper, who has charge of the finances, a .
mektoubji, secretary, and subordinate officers. A
local medjliss (council), including these officers,
local dignitaries, the heads of the local Christian
communities, and others, sits in each vilayet, and
constitutes a popular body, whose influence varies.
with the vigor of the imperial administrator. The
sandjak and kaya are each similarly organized.
The governor of a vilayet is always, and the head
of a sandjak is generally, known as a pasha.
Down to mudirs, administrative officers are non-
residents, and always Moslems, save where treaty
regulations require Christian appointees in Leba-
non and eastern Roumelia. Remnants of local
self-government exist everywhere in the medjliss,
the organization of villages, the management of
internal affairs by particular wards or districts,
many of the latter having enjoyed a rude autono-
my from immemorial times. Trade-guilds, esnafs,
in every city settle disputes and regulatc trade
customs, practically administering a very consid-
erable body of commercial law. — Autonomous.
institutions, civil and ecclesiastical, are allowed toº
each Christian sect, and the Israelites. Turkish
administration recognizes seven “nations ° (mil-
leti) or communities: the Greek, Armenian, Uniate
Armenians, Latin (Catholic), Protestant, Bulga-
rian and Israelite. The first of these communities.
was organized by the berat, or writ of investiture,
granted the Greek patriarch of Constantinople by
Mahmoud II., in 1453. In 1875 the Bulgarian
church, previously a part of the Greek church,
was organized under an exarch. The Greek, Bul-
garian and Armenian are national churches. The
Uniate Armenians are a small body united in faith
to the Roman Catholic church. The Latin church,
besides lesser bodies, includes the Maronites of
Lebanon and the Chaldeans of Gehel Tour and
Mesopotamia. The Jacobite or Syrian church in
the latter region has also of late years received
civil recognition. Besides being ecclesiastical
bodies, these sects all constitute civil corporations.
whose head is the spiritual primate only in the
case of the Greek church and Uniate Armenians.
The Protestants have a civil head, the Jews are:
represented by a chief rabbi, and the civil repre-
sentative of the rest is the archbishop, resident.
at the metropolis, who in the Armenian church is.
also a patriarch. Each of these sects is organized
for civil purposes, with a synod at the capital, and
is divided into dioceses and parishes. Its author-
ities collect the capitation or military exemption
tax (kharadj), and certain traditional dues for their
own maintenance. Their courts regulate subjects.
usually under the jurisdiction of canon law, in-
flict punishments for petty offenses, and once set-
tled all civil cases to which suitors of the same
faith were parties. Where a village or town is
composed of a single sect, the larger share of
internal administration falls to the hands of its
TURKEY.
955
authorities. The Protestant communities scat-
tered over Turkey, the fruit of American mis-
sionary labor, are organized as democracies, with
annual meetings for the election of officers. —
Independent of all other branches of the govern-
ment stands the Seraglio, a state, not a domestic,
institution, not merely the residence or the family
of the sultan, for the Turkish empire has had no
ruling family in the European sense, but the im-
perial household. Unlike most Moslem sover-
eigns, the early Turkish Sultans recognized no
distinction as wives and concubines between the
women of their harem. The harem thus formed,
probably a survival of ancient tribal practice,
was reorganized after the conquest of Constanti-
nople, under Byzantine influence. Its body-guard
was uniformed in a dress copied from the Varan-
gar garb, its chief posts were given to eunuchs,
who first become conspicuous in Turkish affairs
after this date, and the sacrosanct character of
the Moslem harem received the protection of an
elaborate and minute organization and ceremonial
foreign to oriental ideas, but which has had an
extraordinary power in consolidating and render-
ing permanent in influence palace intrigue. In the
seraglio, the mother of the Sultan, valide Sultana,
has taken the place of the empress in Byzantine
history. Its chief functionary is the kislar agha,
chief of eunuchs, an officer whose personal rela-
tions with the sultan give him a rank next after
the grand vizier, and an influence often transcend-
ing his. The commander of the household troops
is generally the commander-in-chief of the army.
Moslem succession and inheritance passing the
oldest male of the family, collateral branches were
in the earlier history of the reigning family care-
fully eliminated, thus keeping the succession in
the direct line. During the last fifty years, this
practice has been abandoned, and the succession
has passed from brother to brother and uncle to
nephew, while collateral lines begin to appear.
The khans of Crimean Tartary, now the Russian
Crimea, claim a descent from Othman, and are the
only cadet branch of the royal family. The
women of the seraglio during the last three cent-
uries have been recruited from Circassian tribes,
which have furnished the other leading harems of
the capital. This circumstance has united the
seraglio and the other great households in a web
of feminine kindred, acquaintance and intrigue,
often overlooked by the foreign observer, but
deeply influencing the daily current of affairs. —
Fºmance. The Turkish fisc has never lost the
stamp of conquest. An oppressive Octroi, imposed
on all the traffic of walled cities, supports the
charges of local government. Its rates vary, its
amount is unknown; and while it is collected by
imperial officers, the receipts are absorbed and ex-
pended in each province. The imperial govern-
ment levies a kharadj, the capitation tax, on all
Christian males for exemption from military serv-
ice; tithes on all produce; the verghi, a tribute or
tax on produce or receipts, a quasi income tax;
sheep tax; a tobacco Segie, Salt, stamp, excise, fish-
eries, registration, forests, with a large number of
lesser taxes. Of these taxes the first three are
early Moslem taxes, and the sheep tax is probably
the survival of a tax levied by the khan in the pas-
toral stage of the tribes by which the empire was
founded. It is still levied in theory, not as a tax
on the sheep, but as rental for pasturage. The
kharadjexisted unchanged in name and charac-
ter punder the caliphate. Its average in 1883 was
twenty-eight piasters, the levy per head varying
from fifteen to sixty piasters. Collected at times.
by Turkish officers, koldjis, and again by the
heads of subject communities, in 1834 and 1850
the duty of collecting this tax was, after a rude.
census, definitely made over to the authorities,
of each “nation.” The verghi appears to be de-
rived from the inscribed tribute levied on con-
quered provinces by the caliphs, and is a tax on
the income from real and personal property,
varying greatly in amount in different provinces,
and often falls upon property from which tithes.
are also collected. The tithes are a tenth in kind
of all produce, collectible before a sale can be
effected by the peasant or proprietor. By a priv-
ilege conferred by Constantine, confirmed by
Mahmoud II., but in recent times modified, the
inhabitants of the capital are free from taxation.
Imperial taxes were farmed under the Byzantine
government, and the practice was continued by
the Turkish conquerors. In 1695, Mustafa II.
extended the annual leases of the revenue to life
grants. In the last fifty years the Turkish gov-
ernment has repeatedly assumed the immediate
collection of its revenues, and as regularly let
them again to meet present necessities, past ex-
travagance, or to secure loans. – Expenditure, re-
ceipts and indebtedness are alike vague in Turk-
ish finance. The unit of account is the piaster
(4.4 cents, or 22% centimes), a coin originally of
the value of the Spanish dollar, which 200 years.
of depreciation have reduced to its present value.
The Turkish lira, or pound (£T=100 piasters) is,
the usual unit in debt statements. At the open-
ing of the Crimean war, the revenue of the em-
pire, for a number of years, had fluctuated from
£T6,500,000 to £T7,500,000. The expenditure,
from this period until the financial collapse of the
empire in 1874–5, was all of the revenue and as
much more as could be raised by loans and the is-
sue of a paper currency. At this time the nominak
receipts were £T22,552,200, and the expenditure
£T23,143,276, deficit £T591,076. The actual av-
erage receipts, 1872–6, were £T18,190,000. The
paper budgets for 1880–81 (1895–6, H.) give the
receipts as 1,615,584,000 piasters; expenditures,
1,914,876,359; deficit, 299,292,359 piasters. The
items are as follows:
RECEIPTS. Piasters.
Tand revenue tax------------------------------ 225,000,000.
Exemptions from military Service------------- 46,000,000
Tithes.---------------------------------------- 500,000,000
Customs -------------------------------------- 180,000,000
Sheep tax------------------------------------- 165,000,000
Tobacco.-------------------------------------- 100,000,000.
Various receipts------------------------------- 96,993,000.
'956
TURKEY.
Receipts—Continued. |Piasters.
Real estate-------------------- * * *** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 5,200,000
Forests --------------- • * * * * * * * * sº sº gº ºs ºs º sº sº º º sme as s as sº * * 6,070,000
Salt works and mines------------------------- 72,309,000
Post ------------------------`------------------ 6,300,000
Telegraphs.------------------------------------ 15,700,000
Receipts from ministry of marine------------- 36,505,000
Receipts from ministry of War ---------------- 28,500,000
Ordnance ------------------------------------- 4,009,000
Sanitary administration----------------------- 5,135,000
Tribute from Egypt.--------------------------- 76,500,000
Tribute from Eastern Roumelia.--------------. 24,000,000
Other tributes--------------------------------- 13,372,000
Various products------------------------------ 8,991,000
Total Receipts---------------------------- 1,615,584,000
EXPENDITURES. Piasters.
Foreign debt---------------------------------- 209,647,961
Domestic debt--------------------------------- 39,812,441
Floating debt--------------------------------- 241,863,946
*Civil list appanage---------------------------- 86,497,324
Senate --------------------------- • * * * * * * * * * sº º sº º 2,406,019
Chamber of deputies -------------------------- 6,593,981
‘Council of state------------------------------- 1,880,400
Audit office----------------------------------- 1,066,640
Prime minister and his personal accounts.----- 2,291,364
-Judicial--------------------------------------- 15,081,848
Restitutions----------------------------------- 575,000
Administration ----------------- * - - - - - - - - - - - - - 52,704,152
Prisons ---- . - * * * * * = ~ * * * ~ * * * = * * * * * * * * * * * * 8,780,680
Post and Telegraphs.-------------------------- 24,959,098
Various expenses------------------------------ 619,300
Ministry of foreign affairs-------------------- - 19,810,232
Ministry of justice---------------------------- 32,809,850
Ministry of public instruction---...------------- 8,100,093
Ministry of public Works---------------------- 10,330,004
Ministry of commerce and agriculture--------- 15,163,720
Administration ------------------------------- 25,212,359
Indirect contributions------------------------- 36,631,640
Verghi---------------------------------------- 21,718,702
Sheep tithes and taxes------------------------- 49,638,016
Ministry of War------------------------------- 536,304,944
Ministry of marine---------------------------- 81,154,650
Grand master of artillery---------------------- 86,144,487
Religious endowments------------------------ 33,573,414
Pensions and reliefs--------------------------- 52,552,851
1,703,915,116
Extraordinary expenses----------------------- 210,961,243
Total Expenditures------------------...---- 1,914,876,359
Turkish budgets are, however, the vaguest ap-
proximations. The territory ceded in 1878 and
1881 returned 13 per cent. of the revenue of
the empire. The rest has been greatly disorgan-
ized, and its revenue can not be placed at over
£T16,313,006. Of this the tributes return (omit-
ting Bulgaria) £T1,143,720, the six revenues
ceded the bondholders, tobacco, salt, stamps, ex-
cise, fisheries and silk, £T1,983,416; and customs,
£T1,992,800. The other leading items are: tithes,
gT5,000,000; verghi, £T2,250,000; sheep, £T1,-
650,000; kharadj, £T460,000. Of the expendi-
tures one-third has for some years gone to the
army, the Only branch of the government whose
claims receive even partial attention. The “civil
list,” which is little more than the sultan's per-
Somal expenditure through the seraglio and other
channels, has for years been from $3,000,000 to
$4,000,000. — The Turkish debt shares the un-
certainties of all Turkish finance. The standing
army, organized by Mahmoud II. at the opening
•of the century, enabled the government to collect
taxes in all parts of the empire, and greatly in-
creased the revenues. This met the enlarged ex-
pense of European reforms in the army; but at
the opening of the Crimean war foreign loans
began, and by 1875 these had reached a nominal
capital of £240,000,000. Fourteen issues were
made in this period, beginning at 80 and ending at
434. One of £5,000,000 in 1855 was secured by
the guarantee of France and England, and the
tribute from Cyprus has been sequestered for
its benefit by Great Britain, while the first, for
£3,000,000, was secured by the Egyptian tribute,
whose balance went to the loan of 1855. During
the thirty years in which Turkey paid its interest,
every conceivable expenditure was met by issuing
current obligations; these were regularly consol-
idated, a foreign loan obtained at usurious rates,
and the old process resumed. At home, forced
loans in the shape of irredeemable paper money
(caimés) were also raised. In 1875 the empire an-
nounced that for five years the interest would be
paid, half in cash and half in 5 per cent. bonds.
Interest ceased altogether before this period was
over, and Turkey remained among the defaulting
states until the iradé of Dec. 20, 1881, reduced
the debt from a nominal capital of £252,801,885
to £106,437,234, and the interest to 4 per cent. Up
to August, 1883, £63,149,663 of the consolidated
debt had been reissued. The Turkish govern-
ment proved reasonably faithful to its share of the
agreement, but Servia, Bulgaria, Montenegro and
Greece have failed to contribute to the share of
the debt allotted to them. The revenues set apart
to meet debt obligations yielded £T2,283,624 dur-
ing the first fourteen months, Jan. 1, 1882 – Feb.
28, 1883. Meanwhile the Turkish government
has continued to add to its floating obligations,
which, in August, 1883, were £T28,000,000. This
is certain to precipitate another collapse, as the
annual deficit is not less than £T7,000,000. —
Lamd Tervure. The fee under Moslem law vests
in the state. Upon conquest, believers, i. e., con-
verts to Islam, are allowed to retain occupancy of
their lands (known as tithable) upon payment of
a tenth of the produce; non-believers pay a tribute
tax levied either on the soil or on the produce,
and when originally inscribed varying from one-
half to one-eighth. Lands held under these ten-
ures have steadily diminished in amount, and con-
stitute the only freehold estates known. They are
divided into two classes, according to the charac-
ter of the fee, whether complete (mulk) or charged
with various burdens (memluk), and pay a tax On
transfer or succession. Besides city freeholds,
large estates of agricultural lands granted for
special services or held by descent from local over-
lords belong to this class. A third class of free-
hold (mehkemé) arose apparently from judicial
sequestration. This can be mortgaged by two
witnesses, the other freehold only by registry.
Waste lands revert to the state, and lands belong-
ing to religious foundations, or devoted to civil
uses, aqueducts, bridges, etc., pay no tithes. The
first circumstance has resulted in the ownership of
TURREY.
957.
large tracts by the state, and the second in the ex-
tensive transfer of realty to religious trusts, con-
stituting vakouf lands. Estimates make three-
fourths of the land in the empire of this charac-
ter. While probably, true of city realty, this is
not true of agricultural lands, which are held
in village ownership in all parts of the empire.
The vakouf lands arise from two sources: state
grants (Sarai), and the transfers of private per-
Sons (kasamain). State grants are, in general,
absolute and perpetual. Private transfers are of
two classes: customary or stated (aadet), and le-
gal (sheriah). The one is a nominal transfer, oc-
Cupancy remaining in the grantor, the grantee
receiving a ground rent, calculated, by a legal
fiction, as interest on the purchase money, often
also nominal. Upon the failure of male heirs in
the direct male line, these grants revert to the
mosque. The administration of vakouf property
was assumed by Mahmoud II., but without ob-
taining the revenue anticipated. Repeated prop-
Ositions to sequester the vakoufs have been made;
but the government has never ventured further
than plans. State lands consist chiefly of miri
and waste (adiyet) lands. There are besides the
private domain of the Sultan, fiefs attached to
particular offices, military fiefs, etc., most – of
which have reverted to the state and been added
to the miri. This, which figures in all Turkish
land Schemes, is land whose revenue belongs to
the public treasury. Large tracts of this land
have been let from time to time, and much of it
is held on perpetual leases, which are open to sale
or inheritance, reverting to the state on the sus-
pension of cultivation. Local customs greatly
modify land tenure, and few definite statements
are true of the entire empire. Land in Bulgaria
and Roumelia is in small holdings, in Thrace and
Macedonia in large estates. Village ownership
obtains in southern Turkey in agricultural lands,
as well as in many parts of Asia Minor and Ar-
menia, where, however, the ownership of tracts by
beys still extends over large areas. – Trade, Tariff
and Products. Commerce with Christian nations
was conducted in the sixteenth century under
a 5 per cent. impost tax, which was reduced to
3 per cent. in behalf of England, and this capitula-
tion was confirmed and extended in 1675 and in
1831. In 1861, commercial treaties with Great
Britain and France, obtained by other nations,
including the United States, placed export duties
at 8 per cent., raised import duties from 5 to 8
per cent., and reduced the transit duties from 3 to
1 per cent. These treaties were denounced in
1883, the porte proposing to substitute specific
for ad valorem duties—in no case higher than
20 per cent.—suppress transit duties, provide a
warehouse system, and require all duties to
be paid in gold. About one-fourth of the com-
merce of Turkey is with Great Britain. Turk-
ish exports consist chiefly of grain, wool, opium
and native manufactures. The exports and im-
ports for a series of years are given in the fol-
lowing table : - •
YEARS. Bxports. Imports.
Piasters. Piasters.
1873-74---------------------- 267,621,881 445,576,303.
1874-75---------------------- 215,698,001 416,653,563
1875–76---------------------- 241,129,046 390,824,124
1877-------------------------|---------------- 324,899,618
1878–79---------------------- 1,969,498,742 838,586,490.
1879-80---------------------- 1,931,403,524 863,209,246.
At Smyrna, the second seaport of the empire, one-
third of the imports consist of domestics, of which
two-thirds come from Great Britain. The remain-
der of the imports consist of miscellaneous man-
ufactures. Of the exports, figs, opium, valonia,
(acorns), black and Ted, and raisins, in nearly
equal shares, make up. One-half of the exports.
from year to year. Silk cocoons, sponges, wool
and rugs constitute from 15 to 20 per cent. of the
exports. –In 1876 the wheat crop of Turkey was
placed at 80,000,000 bushels, and the total cereal.
crop at 100,000,000. The tobacco crop in 1875.
was estimated at 77,880,000 pounds, and valued.
at $5,985,600; and in 1881 the crop was placed.
at 82,500,000 pounds. One-half of this is grown
in European Turkey, and by far the most valuable
in Roumelia, in and about Cavala, Macedonia;
nearly a fifth being in the latter district. The av-
erage production of attar of roses, nearly all of
which is produced on the southern slope of the
Balkans, is 3,470 pounds, the crop varying from
6,000 pounds in 1866, to 1,700 in 1872. The mo-
hair (tiftik) clip in Angora was 35,000 bags in
1880 and 30,000 in 1881, about 6,000,000 pounds.
The herds producing it are estimated at 600,000
head. The importance of Turkish products rests.
rather upon their possibilities, than their accom-
plishment. In grain, in wool, and in cotton, as.
well as in coal and copper, it is capable of add-
ing heavily enough to the world product to make.
it a serious rival. — The mineral resources of Tur-
key are known to be large, but are practically un-
touched—the Solitary exception being the copper
mines of Arghana. By Turkish law all mines.
and mineral deposits are the property of the state,
to which all land reverts on the discovery of min-
eral treasures. All grants of mines for working.
require their surrender to the state after a certain.
period, with plant and working tools complete.
Work can be resumed only upon the purchase of
the equipment from the government at a valua-
tion fixed by the administration of mines, whose
engineers add to the oppressive legal restrictions
of the government the vexatious interference of
half-educated men. The most important mineral
deposits of Turkey are the coal fields of the Her-
aclea basin, on the Euxine coast of Asia Minor,
150 miles from the Bosphorus. They are 450
square miles in extent, estimated to contain 60,-
000,000 tons, and are probably much larger, as.
the Kooslov vein is from three to eighteen feet
thickness, and worked with ease in horizontal
runs. During the Crimean war this region sup-
plied the allied fleet. Tests showed the coal bitu-
minous, to be equal to Newcastle, free from.
958
TURKEY.
slag, and firing rapidly. At present 33,000 tons
are raised annually, and delivered at Constantino-
ple at $4.08 per ton. Constantinople, in the six
years 1875–80, imported 1,205,935 tons of coal
from England. An extremely rich deposit of car-
bonate of copper at Kebban Maaden, in the Ar-
ghana district, north of Diarbekir, has been
worked for centuries, and is still mined under gov-
•ernment supervision, supplying interior Turkey
with the copper universally used for domestic
utensils. Chrome is mined at Dag Ardi, Brusa
vilayet, and near Salonia, the average output in
each place being 3,000 tons. Emery is mined
near Smyrna, manganese near Trebizond, argen-
tiferous lead near Erzeroum, Akdar Maaden, in
Castamuni, and near Kaiserizeh. Antimony is
shipped in Small quantities from Chios. Many
other mineral deposits are known to exist, some
of which were worked in ancient times, but none
are now utilized. — Transportation. The roads of
the empire are in a primitive state, but are in bet-
ter condition in European than in Asiatic Turkey.
In the latter a wheeled vehicle is rarely seen away
from the coast, and the roads are tracks worn by
caravans. The mail is carried on horseback by
relays of horses after a system which has come
down unchanged from the cursus publica of the
Roman and Byzantine empire, and the teckereh,
or official permit to use these relays for private
travel is analogous to the diploma issued under
the Roman empire for the same purpose. During
the French occupation a road was built from Bei-
rut to Damascus, and a diligence line is run on it.
Telegraph lines, 17,048 miles in length, connect
the larger cities and the capital under government
management. By special convention, the Anglo-
Indian government leases for its own purposes a
line connected with the land line and cable in the
Persian gulf. — European Turkey contained, in
1881, 988 miles of railroad, built by the Oriental
Railways company, at $57,600 per mile, the cap-
ital of the company being $158,400,000 nominal,
{lle actual money value of the shares as allotted
being 45 per cent. of their par value. The lines
built and open for traffic since 1875, with the ex-
ception of the Banialuka and Doberlin, are as
follows: Mile
Miles.
Constantinople & Bellowa---------------------------- 351
Adrianople & Dedeagatch---------------------------- 92
Salonica & Mitrovitza--------------------------------
Adrianople & Zamboli-------------------------------
Banialuka & Doberlin-------------------------------- 64
Varna & Rutschuk----------------------------------
Asiatic Turkey has 250+ miles of railroad, in
three lines, of which the first and most important
was built by an English company at a cost of
$10,665,675. It is (1883) being extended to Sev-
dikini, 38 miles. These lines are as follows, the
last being government property:
Miles
‘Smyrna & Aidin, and branches----------------------- 83
Smyrna & Cassaba, and branches-------------------- 108
Scutari & Ismidt, and branches---------------------- 594
Total.-------------------------------------------- 250}
Constantinople contains 13% miles of tramways
(city horse railroads), and they are to be found in
Smyrna, Sidon, Jaffa and other cities. – History.
The Turkish empire arose in western Asia Minor,
and had nearly reached the western limits of its
European conquest before it moved eastward.
The first signs of the empire appeared in the ebb
of the invasions of Genghis Khan and his sons,
whose advance seems to have received a check on
the plateau of Asia Minor, after having swept
away the minor Seljuk sultanats which divided
between them what is now Asiatic Turkey. It is
still doubtful whether Ertogul, the father of Oth-
man, founder of the line, is more than a tribal he-
ro, and the legends which assign Othman a Com-
menian ancestor in Byzantine story, and trace
his descent from the tribal progenitor in central
Asia, Kara Koum, probably express the historic
fact that a rule of Tartar origin, arising in a tribe
which for at least 200 years had been familiar
with the civilization of Asia Minor, took its earli-
est form under Byzantine influence. In Turkish
history Ertogul is the tribal hero, Othman (1299–
1326) the founder, and Orkhan (1326–60) the or-
ganizer of the new monarchy. His tent-door be-
came the sublime porte, his army was made up of
a disciplined infantry and an enrolled cavalry, not
a feudal militia. Orkhan crossed the Bosphorus,
and the Turkish rule was established in its present
European limits by the battle of Kassova (1356),
when the defeat of Bajazet I. (1389–1402), on his
eastern frontier, midway in Asia Minor, by Tam-
erlane, would have destroyed the Turkish empire
had it been an Asiatic power. In the next three
reigns, the power of the empire was further ex-
tended in Europe, and crowned by the conquest
of Constantinople (1453) by Mohammed II. (1451–
81).-The oriental conquests of Selim I. (1512–20)
and the assumption of the title of caliph carried
the empire to its present Asiatic limits, and worked
a profound change in its character. The next of
the line, Suleiman I. (1520–66), the lawgiver of the
dynasty, showed this at every turn. His mosques
were Arab mosques, his code was drawn by an
Aleppan, and the reorganization of the empire
showcd like influences. The Turkish rule was
now at its widest, extended and stretched from
northern Hungary to central Persia, from south-
ern Russia to Egypt. The Turkish infantry re-
mained the best in Europe; but Lepanto (1571)
showed that its fleet was weak, and it never re-
gained full mastery of the sea, although it still
acquired one island after another, Murad IV.
(1623–40) falling between weak and brutal Sultans
(1574–1623), and a drunkard, Ibrahim (1640–49),
gave Turkey its last eastern conquests, reaching
Tabreez. The fortunes of the empire were again
retrieved in Europe by the able succession of
Köprili viziers (1646–90), but no personal ability
could prevent the consequences of a disaster like
the siege of Vienna (1683), and the peace of Car-
lowitz (1703) definitely closed the era of Turkish
conquest.— Through the middle of the eighteenth
century, Mahmoud I. (1730–54) deferred the ad-
TYLER.
UNION.
959
vance of Russia by an alliance with France and
western Europe, as Abdul Medjid (1839–61) did
through the middle of the nineteenth century.
Catharine II. resumed the Russian advance in
the last century, and the peace of Kutchuk Kai
Nardji (1774) and Jassy (1792) established the de-
pendent position of Turkey. Mahmoud II. (1808–
39) gave the empire a new lease of life by organ-
izing a standing army, which enabled the empire
to reconquer its Asiatic possessions, parceled
among overlords who owned a slight allegiance.
With the exception of Ibrahim Pasha, no oriental
rebel has since been able to hold his own against
the Sultan, Against Europe, the porte remained
powerless. The revolt of Greece (1821–9), Servia
(1815–29), Roumania (1861), the treaty of Adrian-
-ople (1833), and other successive treaties, ending
with the treaty of Berlin (1878), have reduced the
empire to its present limits. -
TALCOTT WILLIAMS.
TYLER, John, president of the United States
1841–5, was born in Charles City county, Va.,
March 29, 1790, and died at Richmond, Va., Jan.
17, 1862. He was graduated at William and Mary
•college in 1806, was admitted to the bar in 1809,
and served in the state legislature 1811–16 and
1823–5, in the house of representatives 1816–21, as
governor 1825–7, and as United States senator
1827–36. All this time he had belonged to the
extreme southern state-sovereignty school of poli-
ſticians, and had quarreled with Jackson when the
latter had undertaken to suppress nullification (see
that title) in South Carolina. With the rest of this
school he went into the conglomeration of factions,
which, about 1836, took the name of the whig.
party (see that title), and in the election of that
year received 47 votes for vice-president. In 1840
he was nominated for the vice-presidency by the
whigs, for a double reason : he was a pronounced
adherent of Clay, whom Harrison had defeated
for the presidency; and he was also a pronounced
believer in state sovereignty, so that his nomina-
tion would gratify the nullification wing of the
party. Harrison's sudden death left the whigs in
control of congress, but without the two-thirds
majority necessary to override the vetoes of a
president who was far more closely in sympathy
with the democratic party than with that to which
he nominally belonged. The result was an almost
immediate quarrel between the new president and
his party, which was never healed. (See WHIG
PARTY, II. ; DEMOCRATIC PARTY, IV. ; BANK
CONTROVERSIES, IV. ; TARIFF's ; INDEPENDENT
TREASURY ; INTERNAL IMPROVEMENT ; CEN-
sures; CorpoBAL's GUARD.) Some little effort
was made at the end of his term of office to give him
the democratic, or an independent, nomination for
a new term; but it was a failure, and heretired from
politics in 1845, having completed the annexation
of Texas. (See ANNExATIONs, III.) In 1861 he
reappeared as president of the peace congress at
Washington. (See CoNFERENCE, PEACE.) On
the outbreak of hostilities he became an ardent
secessionist, and was a delegate from Virginia in
the confederate congress until his death. — See
Abbott's Lives of the Presidents, 274; Wise's Seven
Decades of the Union. For the democratic view
of his administration, see 2 Benton’s Thirty Years'
|Wiew, 211–631; 11 Democratic Review, 502 (at the
beginning of his term); 16 Democratic Review, 211
(at the end). For the whig view, see Botts’ His-
tory of the Rebellion, 75; 1 Whig Review, 334; 2
Colton's Life and Times of Clay, 355; Clay’s Pri-
wate Correspondemce, 455–480. The most exact
account is in 2 Von Holst’s United States, 406.
Tyler's messages are in 2 Statesman’s Manual,
1337. - ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
U
TTNION, The (IN U. S. HISTORY), the title by
which the national life of the United States
of America is commonly expressed. The title
necessarily implies that which is the unanimous
choice of the American people, a federal system
of states. It would not necessarily exclude the
idea of secession, since a union may be either vol-
untary or involuntary; but it is notorious matter
of history that the American Union was not vol-
untary, that it was compelled by the same pressure
of common interests which still and more strongly
holds it together, and that it therefore does ex-
clude the idea of secession. (See NATION, STATE
Sove.PEIGNTY.)—The “Roman peace,” which
was enforced by the great republic and empire
of ancient times around the Mediterranean, did
not exclude exactions by proconsuls, to which an
open war would sometimes have been preferable.
"The Paa, Americana, which the Union enforces
upon the great and growing states of central
North America, has no such drawbacks, and has
been one great secret of the national prosperity.
The great state of New York, stronger already in
population than Sweden, Portugal, the Dominion
of Canada, or any South American state, except
Brazil, is surrounded by smaller states, Vermont,
Connecticut, New Jersey, Delaware. But these
last have no anxieties: no standing armies breed
taxes and hinder labor; no wars or rumors of wars
interrupt trade; there is not only profound peace,
but profound security, for the Paa, Americana of
the Union broods over all. It seems probable
that the steady doubling of population of the
United States will, within the next century, force
upon the states of Europe some similar or sepa-
rately developed union for the same purpose. The
free trade which is one of the benefits of the
American Union, would then have a larger juris-
96()
UNITED STATES NOTES.
diction. Perhaps the poet’s dream of “the parlia-
ment of man, the federation of the world,” is not
an impossibility; and that with it will come the
era of universal peace and universal free trade.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
UNION PARTY. (See REPUBLICAN PARTY.)
UNITED STATES NOTES. A brief sketch
in reference to the bills of credit or treasury notes,
issued by the government, by the colonies, and of
the circulating notes issued by the banks previous
to the adoption of the constitution, is given in the
article on “Banking in the United States,” in the
first volume of this Cyclopædia. The committee
appointed by the federal convention held in Phil-
adelphia on May 14, 1787, reported, on Aug. 6, a
draft of the constitution, which contained, in
article thirteen, a clause giving qualified authority
to the states to issue paper money, as follows:
“No state without the consent of the legislature
of the United States shall emit bills of credit, or
make anything but specie a tender in payment Of
debt.” This clause, after discussion, was finally
so amended as to read as follows: “No state shall
coin money; emit bills of credit, make anything
but gold and silver coin a tender in payment of
debts.” — The eighth clause of the first section of
the seventh article of the constitution as presented
for the consideration of the convention, provided
that “the legislature of the United States shall
have power to borrow money, and emit bills on
the credit of the United States.” This clause, as
embodied in the eighth section of the first article
of the constitution as finally adopted, reads, “The
congress shall have power to borrow money on
the credit of the United States.” The debate *
on the question of striking out the words “and
emit bills,” is given in full for the reason that the
subject of making bills of credit issued by the
government a legal tender, is here for the first
time discussed, and was not subsequently at any
(iiile, as far as I am aware, discussed at any length
- by congress, though it was twice presented, for
their consideration, until the legal-tender acts of
1862 were brought before congress for its con-
sideration. “Mr. Gouverneur Morris moved to
strike out, ‘and emit bills on the credit of the
United States.” If the United States had credit,
such bills would be unnecessary; if they had not,
unjust and useless. Mr. Butler seconds the mo-
tion. Mr. Madison: Will it not be sufficient to
prohibit the making them a tender? This will re-
move the temptation to emit them with unjust
views. And promissory notes, in that shape, may
in some emergencies be best. Mr. Gouverneur Mor-
ris: Striking out the words will leave room still
for notes of a responsible minister, which will do
all the good without the mischief. The moneyed
interest will oppose the plan of government, if
paper emissions be not prohibited. Mr. Gorham
was for striking out without inserting any prohi-
bition. If the words stand, they may suggest
* Madison papers, vol. iii., p. 1343.
and lead to the measure. Mr. Mason had doubts:
on the subject. Congress, he thought, would not
have the power, unless it were expressed. Though.
he had a mortal hatred to paper money, yet as he
could not foresee all emergencies, he was unwill-
ing to tie the hands of the legislature. He ob-
served that the late war could not have been car-
ried on, had such a prohibition existed. Mr. Gor-
ham : The power, as far as it will be necessary or
safe, is involved in that of borrowing. Mr. Mer-
cer was a friend to paper money, though in the
present state and temper of America, he should
neither propose nor approve of such a measure.
He was consequently opposed to a prohibition of
it altogether. It will stamp suspicion on the gov-
ernment, to deny it a discretion on this point.
It was impolitic, also, to excite the opposition of
all those who were friends to paper money. The
people of property would be sure to be on the
side of the plan, and it was impolitic to purchase
their further attachment with the loss of the op-
posite class of citizens. Mr. Ellsworth thought
this a favorable moment to shut and bar the door
against paper money. The mischiefs of the vari-
ous experiments which had been made were now
fresh in the public mind, and had excited the
disgust of all the respectable part of America.
By withholding the power from the new govern-
ment, more friends of influence would be gained
to it than by almost anything else. Paper money
can in no case be necessary. Give the government
credit, and other resources will offer. The power
may do harm, never good. Mr. Randolph, not-
withstanding his antipathy to paper money, could
not agree to strike out the words, as he could not.
foresee all the occasions that might arise. Mr.
Wilson: It will have a most salutary influence on
the credit of the United States to remove the
possibility of paper money. This expedient can
never succeed while its mischicfs are remembered.
And as long as it can be resorted to, it will be a
bar to other resources. Mr. Butler remarked
that paper was a legal tender in no country in
Europe. He was urgent for disarming the gov-
ernment of such a power. Mr. Mason was still
averse to tying the hands of the legislature alto-
gether. If there was no example in Europe, as
just remarked, it might be observed, on the other
side, that there was none in which the government
was restrained on this head. Mr. Read thought
the words, if not struck out, would be as alarming
as the mark of the beast in Revelation. Mr.
Langdon had rather reject the whole plan than
retain the three words, “ and emit bills.” On
the motion for striking out, New Hampshire,
Massachusetts, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Dela-
ware, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina,
Georgia, aye—9; New Jersey, Maryland, mo–2.
The clause for borrowing money was agreed to,
mem. con. Adjourned.” — Nine states voted to
strike out, and two states to retain. Virginia
voted in the affirmative, and in explanation of his
vote, Mr. Madison appended the following note :
“This vote in the affirmative by Virginia was oc-
UNITED STATES NOTES.
961
casioned by the acquiescence of Mr. Madison, who
became satisfied that striking out the words would
not disable the government from the use of public
notes as far as they could be safe and proper: and
would only cut off the pretext for a paper curren-
cy, and particularly for making the bills a tender
either for public or private debts.” — The consti-
tution was adopted on Sept. 17, 1787, and three
years thereafter, Hamilton, in his report of Dec.
13, 1790, on a national bank, said: “The emitting
Of paper money by the authority of government
is wisely prohibited to the individual states by the
national constitution; and the spirit of that prohi-
bition ought not to be disregarded by the govern-
ment of the United States. Though paper emis-
Sions, under a general authority, might have some
advantages not applicable, and be free from some
disadvantages which are applicable, to the like
emissions by the states separately, yet they are of a
nature so liable to abuse—and, it may even be af-
firmed, so certain of being abused—that the wis-
dom of the government will be shown in never
trusting itself with the use of so seducing and dan-
gerous an expedient.”— Although notes of differ-
ent forms were issued subsequently by the govern-
ment at various dates, some of which were receiva-
ble for all dues payable to the government, no cir-
culating notes were issued, which by the terms of |
law were made a full legal tender until the passage
of the act of Feb. 25, 1862, which was nearly seven-
ty-five years after the adoption of the constitution.
— Some of the treasury notes, issued since the
adoption of the constitution, and previous to the
passage of the legal-tender act, were receivable for
all dues to the government, and others not : some
were payable at a fixed date, both with and with-
out interest : some were fundable at any time
after the date of their issue, others at a fixed date
in United States bonds. – During the late civil
War, treasury notes were also issued of all these
different forms, and also notes payable on demand,
receivable for all dues to the government, and
others payable on demand, not receivable for
duties on imports, or payable by the government
for interest upon the public debt, but in every
other respect a full legal tender to and by the gov-
ernment, and between the people in all payments.
— No notes were issued from 1789 to 1812, a period
of twenty-three years. Such notes were issued in
the years 1812, 1813, 1814 and 1815, and at various
dates from 1837 to 1847. They were again issued
in 1857, and subsequently, in the years 1860,
1861 and thereafter. The periods for the issue of
these notes may be summarized as follows: first,
the war of 1812; second, the financial panic of
1837; third, the Mexican war; fourth, the finan-
cial crisis of 1857; and fifth, the war of the rebell-
ion. It will thus be seen that there have been
five emergencies in which congress, without any
Special constitutional authority, has seen fit to au-
thorize such issues. The original debt had, at the
beginning of 1812, been reduced from seventy-five
millions to forty-five millions. – TREASURY NOTES
OF THE WAR OF 1812. In 1810 it was found im-
180 VOL. III. — 61
possible to meet all of the annual reduction of the
debt required by law from the sinking fund, and
a temporary loan was authorized to make up the
deficiency, which amounted to $2,750,000. This
loan was paid the next year. In 1811, however,
recourse was had to a loan, and the one authorized
by congress for that year was taken so slowly,
that, in May, the secretary for the first time rec-
ommended the issue of treasury notes upon the
following principle, viz.: “1. Not to exceed, in
the whole, the amount which may ultimately not
be subscribed to the loan: that is to say, that
the amount received on account of the loan, and
that of the treasury notes, shall not, together,
exceed eleven millions ; which limits, therefore,
the greatest possible amount of treasury notes to
less than $4,900,000. 2. To bear an interest of
53 per cent. a year, equal to 13 per cent. per
day on a hundred dollar note. 3. To become
payable by the treasury one year after the date
of their respective issues. 4. To be, in the mean-
while, receivable in payment of all duties, taxes,
or debts, due to the United States.” He did
not propose that the notes should be fundable in
the loan which they were intended to re-enforce.
This recommendation of Secretary Gallatin was
made in his letter of May 14, 1812, to Mr. Langdon
Cheves, chairman of the committee of ways and
means of the house, and, in conformity there with,
a bill was reported by that committee on June 12,
1812. — War was declared against Great Britain
June 18, 1812. The failure of the loan was due
to the fact that the money had to be borrowed
from the very classes who had been opposed to
the war: therefore, when the bill for authorizing
treasury notes was put upon its passage on June
16, it met with much opposition. — It was argued,
that the notes under the bill were not equal in
value to gold and silver, and would not be received
by the banks or the people, who were prejudiced
against such government paper ; that if issued
they could not be redeemed, and would depre-
ciate; that the measure would be subversive of
public and private credit ; that it was a confes-
sion of impaired credit; that to allow the notes to
be deposited in banks and to accept bank paper
in exchange was to depreciate the government's
paper ; that if issued, additional taxes should be
imposed and set apart for the redemption of the
notes, as in the case of the English exchequer
notes; that the proposed notes were the same as
the old continental money, and would depreciate
in the same way. Others opposed the bill simply
because they opposed the war or any prepara-
tion for it. In case war proved unavoidable the
necessary funds should be raised by taxes and
loans. The shortness of the time for which the
notes were to be issued, was another objection.
The public revenues would not meet the engage-
ment, and engagements should not be entered into
without a certainty of fulfillment. Taxes were
necessary. It was a paltry expedient never Sug-
gested by Hamilton or Wolcott, and not even the
spontaneous production of Gallatin; that the first
962
UNITED STATES NOTES.
suggestion of the latter was to authorize a loan on
such terms as would have insured its success. It
was a humiliating spectacle to exhibit the govern-
ment failing in negotiating its first war loan. —
On the other hand, the supporters of the bill
maintained that the notes would be received by the
banks in the same manner as any good individual
paper was received. The banks would give the
government credit for them, and in return the
government could draw gold and silver from the
banks. The notes would be even more valuable
to the latter than specie, as they could be kept as
an interest-bearing reserve. They would have
currency, being receivable in duties, taxes, and
debts due the government, and, as interest accu-
mulated, they would increase in value. In reply
to the suggestions that money should be raised by
taxes, it was stated, that when, previously, meas-
sures of that kind had been proposed, the opposi-
tion had refused to consent. The issue of treas-
ury notes, bearing interest at 5% per cent. Only,
did not indicate bad, but rather good, credit. In-
dividuals in good credit could not borrow at less
than 6 per cent. There was no depreciation of
government paper in exchanging the notes for
bank paper, as the latter was ready money, while
the former were payable one year after date. It
was denied that the people had or would have any
prejudice against treasury notes. They were not
prejudiced against bank notes, and the proposed
notes bearing interest had many advantages over
bank paper. The proposed notes would be in no
way inferior to exchequer bills: in fact, it was
only want of credit that compelled the English
government to set aside certain revenues to meet
the latter. The treasury notes would have two
advantages over exchequer bills; one, the Superior
Credit of the United States ; and the other, that
they were receivable for taxes and public dues.
They were also superior to public stocks, in that,
while bearing interest, they also can serve as cur-
rency, the same as gold and silver, thus enhancing
the medium of circulation. There was no re-
semblance between them and continental money.
When the latter was issued, the government was
dependent on the pledges of the several states for
its revenues, but now its credit was above suspi-
cion, its power to raise revenue complete, and its
ability to pay its debts undoubted. War was un-
avoidable. Both loans and taxes would have to
be resorted to. The proposed notes were nothing
but a loan with extraordinary advantages, taking,
however, but little from the circulating medium
of the country. In many transactions they would
have all the effect of money. While not secured
by any specific fund set apart for their redemption,
the entire duties and taxes of the year are indi-
rectly pledged for this purpose, since they are re-
ceivable in payment of such duties and taxes.
The revenues of the year were estimated at eight
millions, and the proposed issue of notes was five
millions only. The faith of the government was
pledged for their redemption. That faith had never
been violated. The resources of the government
were ample beyond those of any other nation. Its
sources of revenue were unimproved land, a pro-
ductive agriculture, an extensive commerce, an
enterprising people, and an unlimited right of
taxation. The anticipated abuse of a privilege
was no argument against its legitimate use. — The
bill passed the house June 17, 1812, yeas 85, nays
41. It passed the senate June 26, and became a
law June 30, 1812. By it the president was au-
thorized to issue treasury notes to an amount not
exceeding $5,000,000. The notes were redeem-
able, at such places as were expressed on them,
within one year of the date of their issue. They
bore interest at the rate of 53 per cent. per annum
from the day of issue, being one and one-half
cents a day on a hundred dollar note, payable at
the place where the principal was payable. They
were signed by persons designated by the presi-
dent, and the compensation of these persons was
fixed at one dollar and twenty-five cents each for
one hundred notes signed. They were counter-
signed by the commissioners of loans for the state
in which the notes were respectively made pay-
able. With the approval of the president, the
secretary of the treasury was authorized to bor-
row money upon the security of the notes, and to
pay them to such banks as would give the gov-
ernment credit for them at par. When the notes
were paid to collectors of revenue and receivers
of public money, the interest ceased on the day
of payment. The commissioners of the sinking
fund were authorized to cause the principal and
interest to be paid when due, and to purchase
them at not more than par, in the same way as
they purchased other public securities, with a view
of reducing the debt. They were made payable
to order, transferable by delivery and assignment
on indorsement by persons to whose order they
were made payable. — The notes were made every-
where receivable for duties, taxes, and in pay-
ment of public land, at their par value with ac-
crued interest on the day paid in. Penalties were
imposed for counterfeiting them, and an appro-
priation made for the expense of printing and
preparing the notes. – There was nothing in the
law regulating the denominations in which they
should be issued, but, as a matter of fact, none
were issued of a denomination of less than one
hundred dollars. — The largest amount authorized
under this act, Outstanding at any one time, was
five millions. The notes authorized were all is-
sued before the end of the year 1813, and were
all redeemed during the year 1814. The secre-
tary estimated that there would be a deficit of
nineteen millions for the year 1813. Congress
authorized sixteen millions of this amount to be
obtained by loans, without the usual provision that
the bonds should be sold at par, or specifying the
rate of interest. The loan was placed with great
difficulty, the sixteen millions authorized being
obtained from the avails of $18,109,377.43 of
stock, bearing interest at 6 per cent. To supply
the remainder, a bill was introduced into the house
on Jan. 27, 1813, to authorize a new issue of treas-
|UNITED STATES NOTES.
963
ury notes. The bill was similar in its provisions
to the act of 1812: the arguments for and against
the measure, were, in the main, the same as those
in 1812. The opposition complained that much
favoritism had been shown in the dealings of the
banks. It was alleged that among the banks
granting credit, in return for the treasury notes
deposited, as authorized by the law of 1812, were
those acting as depositaries of public moneys de-
rived from the deposits of collectors and public
agents; that this very money so deposited by the
government agents was again loaned to the gov-
ernment on the credit of treasury notes. On the
Other hand, it was urged that the use of banks as
depositaries was unavoidable, and that, in any
'event, banks would receive incidental benefit
from keeping government deposits. Even if a
stock loan was substituted for treasury notes the
money realized therefrom would be deposited
with the same banks until required by the govern-
ment. The bill passed the house by a vote of 79
to 41, and the senate by a vote of 17 to 9, and be-
came a law on Feb. 25, 1813. — The greatest
amount of notes authorized by this act, outstand-
ing at any one time, was five millions: they were
all redeemable by the first quarter of the calendar
year of 1815, but at the close of that quarter only
$1,483,900 had been redeemed, and all of the re-
mainder was not finally paid until the year 1820,
although the greatest portion was called in by
1817. They were issued in denominations of not
less than $100. An act similar in all respects to
that of Feb. 25, 1813, passed the house by vote of
83 to 48, and the senate without debate, on March
1, and was approved March 4, 1814. It author-
ized the issue of five millions of treasury notes,
and of an additional five millions, which, if is-
sued, was to be considered as part of a stock loan
for the year, which was subsequently to be au-
thorized. This loan for twenty-ſive Inillious was
authorized on March 24 of the same year, and
could only be placed at a large discount. An ad-
ditional five millions was therefore issued in place
of an equal amount of stock, making in all ten
millions of treasury riotes issued under this act.
These notes were for the first time issued in de-
nominations of less than $100, notes of the denom-
ination of twenty dollars being placed in circula-
tion. The whole ten millions were issued pre-
vious to June 30, 1815. The policy of congress
seemed to be to keep the authorized issue of treas-
ury notes each year below the amount of the reve-
nue of the year, or, if more was authorized, they
were to be in lieu of, and to re-enforce, stock loans.
—On Dec. 26, 1814, an act was passed which author-
ized the issue of $7,500,000 of treasury notes in
place of portions of the loans of March 24 and
Nov. 15 not already placed, and three millions more
for the expenses of the war department. These
notes bore the same rate of interest and were for
the same time as those of the act of June 30, 1812,
and under this act, $8,318,400 of notes were is-
Sued, a portion of which was in the denomina-
tions of twenties and fifties. – On Aug. 31, 1814,
specie payments were suspended except in New
England. The accounts of the treasury depart-
ment show that there were outstanding on Sept.
30, 1814, $10,649,800 of treasury notes. Mr.
Crawford was succeeded in October by Secretary
Dallas, and the latter, in his report to the commit-
tee of ways and means on Oct. 17, 1814, says:
“The condition of the circulating medium pre-
sents another copious source of mischief and em-
barrassment. The stock of specie was diminished
by exportation, and would remain so withdrawn
from use. The multiplication of banks had in-
creased the paper currency so that it was difficult
to calculate its amount, and still more difficult to
ascertain its value. Bank currency was of no
benefit since the suspension of specie payments,
and there virtually existed no circulating medium
common to all the citizens of the United States.
The money transactions of private individuals
were at a stand, and the fiscal obligations of the
government labored with extreme inconvenience.
Under favorable circumstances, the limited issue
of treasury notes would probably afford relief, but
they were an expensive substitution for coin or
banknotes.” He concluded by recommending the
establishment of a national bank. This statement
was called out by a report made by Mr. Eppes,
chairman of the committee of ways and means
of the house, on Oct. 10, 1874, in which, in order
to secure the circulation of treasury notes, it was
recommended that notes of small denominations
should be issued, to be funded into 8 per cent.
stock, payable to bearer, and transferred by deliv-
ery, receivable in all payments of public lands
and taxes. The internal revenue taxes were to be
pledged for payment of interest, and they were
to be exchangeable for stock at 8 per cent., or re-
deemable in specie after six months' notice from
the government. On Nov. 24, 1814, in a report
to the committee to which a bill for establishing
a national bank had been referred, Mr. Dallas
mentions, as one of the means at the disposal of
the treasury, the issue of treasury notes, “which
none but necessitous creditors, contractors in dis-
tress or government agents acting Officially were
willing to accept.” He also states that the act of
Nov. 15, 1814, authorizing treasury notes to be
taken in payment for subscriptions to loans, was
passed too late; that the interest on the public
debt had not been punctually paid, and that a
large amount of treasury notes had already been
dishonored. In a subsequent communication of
Dec. 14, 1814, he said that the non-payment of
treasury notes, and the risk of not paying the in-
terest on the funded debt, were chiefly Owing to
the suspension of specie payments by the banks,
and the consequent impracticability of transfer-
riflg public funds from the place where they were
deposited to the place where they were needed.
The difficulty referred to in meeting the interest
upon the public debt was in Boston. A state
bank had large government deposits, and a draft
was sent to meet the interest, upon Oct. 1, 1814.
The state bank declined paying in coin or bank
964
|UNITED STATES NOTES.
notes, and the creditors refused to receive the
treasury notes that were offered instead. After the
suspension, the government was deprived of the
use of specie, and as the banks in each state refused
credit and circulation to the notes of banks in oth-
er states, no transfer of funds could be made to
places where they were wanted to meet treasury
notes: consequently the credit of these notes was
lessened, and creditors refused to accept them in
payment. On Nov. 12, 1814, Mr. Hall, of Georgia,
introduced in the house a series of five resolu-
tions to revive the credit of treasury notes. The
second resolution provided that the notes should
be a legal tender between citizens, and between
citizens and foreigners, for all debts then due or
afterward to become due, which the house refused
to consider by a vote of 95 to 42—more than two-
thirds. These resolutions were evidently intro-
duced as measures in opposition to the proposi-
tion for a national bank, and the other four reso-
lutions were subsequently laid upon the table by
a large majority.— On Jan. 30, 1815, a bill author-
izing the issue of treasury notes was introduced
in the house, and referred to a committee of the
whole. The bill passed the house Feb. 11, and
the senate Feb. 21, and was approved Feb. 24,
1815; it was the last of a series of five acts, com-
mencing with that of June 30, 1812, the first four
of which had authorized the issue of treasury
notes bearing interest at the rate of 53 per cent.
The following is the form of the large notes is-
sued under this act :
-S
ESG)
–ezºza, 2%zoºmaeºzzcoa.
w
W
A'A'/artôus Z7tle/22 -
i
JNE A ... . 24, 24.44%%2. ---
H||RED Mſ/// %a.& %zºº/2%
intº * 0ctober 1, 18/.5.
r w
º Zºe/º20° &e 2% %ea/.2%,942&zzazzaz,”/42.42%
: Zºe/ * 25.2% º/***** Zºº”, a 4.
2. 240ece, Zzzºzzzzzz!2%/**2%/6%/º/*
É *///24%azaaºzºº/Zºo”*a*
Æe 2%*22%&zz///Øſ/5 Interest perday/4 cenár
É. .// wer moieth ,45 cenzāy
3. \\ • per year £6.40 cents
~: *Žea. i
| Czzºzºs
i
&zoa
|| |
i—----
Endorsed on the back: “Pay the bearer, Jos. Delafield.”
This act authorized the issue and reissue of treas-
ury notes to an amount not exceeding twenty-five
millions upon principles essentially different from
those governing prior issues. These notes might
be of any denomination: if of a denomination
less than $100, they were designated as “small
treasury notes,” were payable to bearer, and bore
no interest; if of a denomination of $100 or up-
ward, they were payable to order, transferable by
indorsement, and bore interest at the same rate as:
those of $100 and upward previously authorized.
The “small treasury notes” were of this form :
3.
2– -
~e?eazz 2%zºna
%
.22% ºzº” ”
*/* awa/º 4xaſ.
eZº %a/22%/*% 2222, 2%uº
*…*&24.4%zzº &/º - -
Az/&4% *44 4.2%% /* 2%.4%
</zºo/23/3
a/4%azzazeeeze/*
Zºº º
/*



UNITED STATES NOTEs.
965
These notes were not chargeable upon the sink-
ing fund, as in the case of the first three acts of
the series, nor were they payable out of any
money in the treasury not otherwise appropriated,
as in the previous act of Dec. 26, 1814, but rested
entirely upon the provision making them fund-
able into stock. The principal and interest were
not payable at any specified time, but the notes
were everywhere receivable in all payments to the
United States. The act reduced the pay of those
signing the notes to seventy-five cents for each
one hundred notes, and also provided that treas-
ury notes of previous issue should be fundable
into 6 per cent. stock. The holders of the small
treasury notes could exchange them at pleasure,
in sums of not less than $100, for certificates of
funded stock bearing interest at 7 per cent. The
treaty of peace was signed on Dec. 14, 1814,
but the news reached Washington a few days
only before the passage of the bill, which, al-
though a war measure, was carried through, inas-
much as it was considered necessary to the regu-
lation of the disordered finances of the country.
The whole amount of treasury notes, absolute and
contingent, which was authorized by these five acts,
was $60,500,000, of which amount $36,680,794
was issued. The following table exhibits the
amount issued under each act :
Under act of June 20, 1812---- - - - - - - --- - - - - - - - - $ 5,000,000
Under act of Feb. 25, 1813---------------------. - 5,000,000
Under act of March 4, 1814---------------------- 10,000,000
Under act of Dec. 26, 1814---------------- - - - - - - - 8,318,400
Under act of Feb. 24, 1815–$100 notes-- $4,969,400 tº
Under act of Feb. 24, 1815—small treas- -
ury notes---------------------------- 3,392,994
— 8,362,394
Total amount issued------------------------ $36,680,794
— Although the treasury notes of 1815 of small
denominations originally issued, amounted to only
$3,392,994, the law made them fundable into 7
per cent. stock, payable after Dec. 31; and as the
notes were reissuable, they were, under various
exigencies, again and again paid out, until the
whole amount of the 7 per cent. stock, issued
for the purpose of funding them, amounted to
$9,070,386. On account of the high rate of inter-
test of these bonds, the small treasury notes were
in demand, and a small amount was sold at a pre-
mium of 4 per cent., and $1,365,000 at a premium
of $32,107.64, or about 2% per cent. The secre-
tary, in his annual report for 1815, says: “The
treasury notes, which were issued under act
passed previous to Feb. 24, 1815, were, for the
most part, of a denomination too high to serve as
a current medium of exchange; and it was soon
ascertained that the small treasury notes, fundable
at an interest of 7 per cent., though of a con-
venient denomination for common use, would be
converted into stock almost as soon as they were
issued.”* The notes of $100 and upward, though
fundable into 6 per cent. bonds, were depreciated
from 8 to 10 per cent. below bank notes, which
bore no interest, but were redeemable in specie. —
* Report of the Secretary of the Treasury, 1815, p. 26.
In recapitulation, it may be stated that the treas-
ury notes of the period of the war of 1812 were
issued under five acts of congress, as stated in the
table. The notes of the first three acts were made
chargeable to the sinking fund—those of the last
two, not; those of the first two acts were in de-
nominations of not less than $100; those of the
next two were not less than $20; and those of the
last act were in denominations of 3, 5, 10, 20, 50,
100 dollars and upward. Those of the first three
acts were not originally fundable into stock, but
were made so by the act of Nov. 15, 1814, and by
the subsequent act of Feb. 24, 1815. The notes
of the acts of Dec. 26, 1814, became fundable by
the act of Feb. 24, 1815, but those of the last-
named act were fundable by the terms of their
authorization. The notes of all the acts but the
last were made payable one year from the date of
their issue ; those of the last act were payable at
no fixed date. All of these notes (with the ex-
ception of the small treasury notes, which were
without interest) bore interest at the rate of 53 per
cent. None of these notes had any legal-tender
quality, and congress, without debate, rejected the
only proposition for giving them this quality. The
denominations, except in the case of the Small
notes of 1815, were too large for purposes of cir-
culation, and the inducements for funding these
were so great that they could not be used for that
purpose. As long as the banks redeemed their
notes in specie, treasury notes appear to have kept
at par, but when specie payments were suspend-
ed, they began to depreciate, and appear to have
been kept from great discount by the funding acts
of Nov. 25, and Feb. 24, 1815. It is said, ‘‘ that
of eighty millions of loans negotiated by the gov-
ernment during this period, the avails were only
thirty-four millions, after deducting discounts and
depreciations.” (See FINANCE.) After the close
of the war, in December, 1814, these notes were
rapidly funded. — TREASURY NOTES OF THE PE-
RIOD OF THE FINANCIAL CRISIS OF 1837. In an-
ticipation of a large surplus, congress, by act of
June 23, 1836, provided for the distribution of a
large amount of government money among the
states in proportion to their representation in the
senate and house of representatives, and three in-
stallments, amounting in all to $27,063,430, were
so distributed. (See U. S. SURPLUS MONEY, DIS-
TRIBUTION OF, AMONG THE STATES.) In the mean-
time, about May 1, 1837, specie payments were
suspended, owing to the great depression in com-
mercial circles. An extra session of the 25th con-
gress was called in September of the same year.
The charter of the second bank of the United
States had expired on March 4, 1836, and On June
23, 1836, congress had passed an act authorizing and
regulating the deposit of public moneys in state
bänks. No action was taken during the extra ses-
sion toward rechartering the bank of the United
States. The distribution of the fourth installment
to the states was, however, postponed, but the Sec-
retary was prohibited from calling for any of the
money already distributed without special author-
966
UNITED STATES NOTES.
ity from congress, which has not, up to the pres-
ent date, been given. — The revenues for the year
(1837) were from six to ten millions short of the ex-
penditures. The public funds already deposited
with the states were unavailable, and there was an-
other installment to be deposited on Oct. 1. The
secretary recommended the withholding of this in-
stallment, and, in order to supply currency, an is-
sue of treasury notes, the small denominations to
bear no interest, and the large with interest. — A
large party in congress were in favor of recharter-
ing the bank of the United States. The advocates
of treasury notes urged the issue principally upon
the ground of necessity, there being no currency
upon which the government could rely to make
and receive payments. Many were in favor of a
substitute to be issued by the proposed new bank
of the United States. A bill was presented and
passed by the senate. When it came to the house,
objection was made that it was a money bill, which
the senate had no constitutional right to originate.
This point was not discussed, but the committee
of ways and means presented their own bill, by
which the issue of ten millions in treasury notes
was authorized. The bill encountered much op-
position, particularly from those in favor of au-
thorizing a new bank, but passed the house on
Oct. 9, 1837, by a vote of 127 to 98, which was a
strict party vote. In the senate, the next day, Mr.
Benton moved to make the lowest dénomination
of notes $100, instead of $50, as provided in the
bill. He presented strong objections to the issue of
treasury notes. Nothing but the fact that the gov-
ernment must otherwise stop for want of funds,
would induce him to vote for paper money in time
of peace.
of reducing the denominations of paper currency.
It was the most dangerous feature of the system,
and would drive all specie from circulation. Mr.
Clay spoke in favor of Mr. Benton’s motion, and
characterized the whole measure to be, to all in-
tents and purposes, a great bank experiment, and
alluded to the inconsistency of issuing, in time of
profound peace, ten millions additional notes after
decrying the banks for enlarging their circulation.
Mr. Webster favored Mr. Benton’s motion. It
was lost by a vote of 25 to 16. The bill then
passed by a vote of 35 to 6, both Mr. Benton and
Mr. Webster voting for it, and Mr. Clay against
it. This bill authorized the issue of treasury
notes to an amount not exceeding ten millions, and
in denominations not exceeding fifty dollars. The
interest was not to exceed 6 per cent.; and they
were to be payable, principal and interest, after
one year from date, and were, for the first time,
signed by the treasurer and countersigned by the
register. They were to be issued in payment of
the debts of the United States to any creditor who
would receive them, and were to be receivable in
payment of all debts and dues to the government.
They were not reissuable, and the authority to is-
sue terminated Dec. 31, 1838. The ten millions
authorized were issued by Secretary Woodbury
previous to July 1, 1838. About two millions
He particularly objected to the policy
were issued at the nominal rate of interest of 1
mill per cent. ; three millions at 2 per cent.; and
over four millions at 5 per cent. On account of
the low rate of interest upon a large portion of
the notes, the object for which they were issued,
namely, to supply a circulating medium, was
thwarted, for they were soon presented in pay-
ment of taxes, and over five millions were retired
before the whole amount had been issued. — At
the end of 1837 the secretary estimated that the
balance in the treasury for July, 1838, would be
$34,187,000, of which $28,101,644 was due from
the states, $1,100,000 due chiefly from insolvent.
banks, and $3,500,000 from other banks, payment
of which was postponed. These sums, and the
bullion fund in the mint, reduced the estimated
available balance in July, 1838, to about one mill-
ion. This estimate was nearly correct, for con-
gress was advised by the president, in May, 1838,
that only $216,000 of available funds remained in
the treasury. There were several propositions in
the house, one of which was a bill for authorizing
loan certificates, which should be a legal tender to:
public creditors, but not receivable for dues to the
government. The question of the legal tender
was not discussed. Mr. Cambreleng, of New Jer-
sey, from the committee of ways and means, re-
ported a short bill, authorizing the issue of treas-
ury notes to the amount of the issue of October,
1837, which had been redeemed and canceled.
The interest upon the issues already made under
the laws of 1837 had been too small, and they
had been immediately paid into the treasury when
due. There were gratifying signs of a revival of
prosperity. The northern banks had resumed spe-
cie payment sooner than expected. This he as-
cribed to the firmness of the president in refusing
to allow dues to the United States to be paid in
notes of banks not paying specie. He referred
to the passage of the free banking act of New
York as a presage of sound banking in future.
He also urged the necessity of providing notes to
enable the treasury to meet its payment. The ob-
jections to the bill were much the same as those
urged in the debate during the previous session,
though they were presented with more force and
completeness, particularly by Mr. Caleb Cushing.
He said that such issues were bills of credit not
warranted by the constitution; that they were
based only upon the faith of the government; that
such measures were considered of doubtful and
dangerous character by all the friends of demo-
cratic institutions; and that Madison and others.
had always been opposed to the issues of govern-
ment paper founded not on funds or specie, but
only upon faith or credit, and only consented to
its expediency in remarkable exigencies. Expe-
rience had shown, that whatever interest they
might bear, whether 1 mill or 6 per cent., they
would not be above the value of the notes of good
banks. It was said, that, if the United States under
the constitution could issue these bills, so could the
states. They were the same as continental money,
although bearing interest. Much of the currency
UNITED STATES NOTES.
967.
issued by the states, during the revolution, de-
nominated bills of Credit, bore interest. Chief
Justice Marshall’s definition of bills of credit was,
“paper issued by the sovereign authority, and in-
tending to circulate as money.” These notes are
issued by sovereign authority, and intended to cir-
culate as money. They operate unequally, and
afford no general relief: they are below par in
New York, and at 5 per cent. premium in Charles-
ton. The bill was amended to obviate some tech-
nical objections, and finally passed by a small
majority, 106 to 99, on May 16, 1838. It came
up in the senate on May 18. Wright of New
York, Benton, Calhoun, Brown and Talmadge
were in favor of it. Webster, Clay, Crittenden
and Preston were on the other side. The discus-
sion took a wide range, involving the causes of
the condition of the treasury, and the constitu-
tionality of the issue of treasury notes. It passed
by a vote of 27 to 13, and was approved on May
21, 1838. Nearly five millions were issued within
one month after the passage of the bill, which
showed conclusively the pressing needs of the
treasury. Under the previous acts of October,
1837, and May 21, 1838, the authority to issue treas-
ury notes expired on Jan. 1, 1839. The whole is-
sue was not to exceed ten millions, and the latter
act permitted the reissue of those paid in. — The
whole amount which had been issued to Decem-
ber, 1838, was $15,709,801.01, and bore at differ-
ent rates interest as follows: $6,888,809.60 bore
interest at 6 per cent.; $4,280,273.72 bore interest
at 5 per cent.; $2,784,844.73 bore interest at 2 per
cent.; and $1,755,881.96 bore interest at 1 mill per
cent. There had been redeemed, up to the same
date, $7,955,250, leaving $7,754,560 outstanding.
The authority to reissue expired with the year. —
On Jan. 1, 1839, there was a large amount of notes
in the treasury, which continued to grow larger
until March 2, 1839, when an act was passed, ex-
tending the authority to reissue until June 30,
1839, providing the whole amount outstanding
did not exceed ten millions. In December, 1839,
Secretary Woodbury reported that at no time
had more than ten millions been outstanding, and
that the amount outstanding was less than the
amount due from suspended banks, and from the
Pennsylvania bank of the United States, to the
government, and that the principal and interest
on the treasury notes had always been promptly
paid when desired. A bill was subsequently pre-
sented by Mr. Jones, chairman of the committee
of ways and means. Amendments were offered
with the object of making it imperative that the
notes should bear interest at not less than 2 per
cent., and to make them negotiable and transfer-
able only by indorsement, in the same manner as
bills of exchange: the first to prevent the issuance
of notes at the nominal rate of 1 mill per cent., or
one-thousandth of 1 per cent., per annum, and the
Second to prevent their circulation as money, and
both to cure, as was alleged, the constitutional
difficulty. The whigs refused to vote, leaving no
quorum. On March 24, 1840, the house continued
in session from ten o’clock until five p. m. of the
next day. Finally, when the house adjourned,
the consideration of the bill was fixed for the fol-
lowing Friday, and on that day—March 27, 1840
—it finally passed the house by a vote of 25 to 8.
It passed the senate on March 30, 1840, and was
approved the following day. The following is
the form of a $100 note issued under this act:
/
////
M976%
i
ſ
s
§§
º
N-
c/22%
Aegister
. 22.2%aſºoſ. 74%
*/2/.6%e2%zºzº a.º.2%
* * * * *-* * * * * - - - - - - - - - - -º6%2%/2%
M973% 2///7

*a 22/.4%
%2%,
Treasurer of Že Whifed &aſes.
— On each end of the reverse were printed the
figures 100. Under this act the issues amounted
to $7,114,251. Notes were to be redeemed sooner
than one year, if the condition of the treasury
would admit, and at any time within the year,
after sixty days' notice. — The secretary, in his
report for 1840, states, that treasury notes had been
at par during the year, although never bearing in-
terest higher than 53 per cent.,” and subject to
payment after sixty days' notice. To meet the
wants of the treasury, a treasury note bill was in-
troduced, and passed congress on Feb. 15, 1841.
This law authorized an issue of notes, in the ag-
* Finance Report, vol. iv., p. 354.
96S
UNITED STATES NOTES.
gregate, of $10,000,000, one-half to be issued in
payment of amounts due and payable prior to
March 4, 1841, and the remaining $5,000,000 in
payment of amounts due and payable after that
date. In all, $7,529,062 were issued under act of
Feb. 15, 1841. – In the fall of 1840, Harrison had
been elected president to succeed Van Buren, but
died April 4, 1841. He was the representative of
the whig party, which had, since the year 1887,
so bitterly opposed the issue of treasury notes.
Mr. Ewing of Ohio was appointed secretary of the
treasury by President Harrison. In his report to
congress at its special session of May 31, 1841, he
said that, from Jan. 1, 1837, to March 4, 1841, the
expenditures of the government had exceeded the
revenues by over $31,000,000. Of about twenty-
six millions of treasury notes issued under the acts
from Oct. 12, 1837, to Feb. 15, 1841, inclusive, all
but about six millions had, as claimed by Secre-
tary Woodbury, been issued in anticipation of
revenues, or upon the basis of existing debts due
to the United States, leaving about six millions
outstanding when the new administration came in.
Mr. Ewing estimated that the deficit in the rev-
enues for the year 1841, after meeting the current
expenses and redeeming the treasury notes then
outstanding and to be issued, would be $12,088,-
215, which he considered to be the amount of the
public debt. He objected to the issue of treasury
notes, and recommended a loan redeemable after
eight years or upon six months' notice by the gov-
ernment. — A bill was introduced by Millard Fill-
more, chairman of the committee of ways and
means, on June 24. It provided a loan, payable
after Jan. 1, 1856, with interest at 5 per cent., and
authority was given the Secretary to purchase the
bonds out of any surplus in the treasury. It was
objected that the loan was unnecessary, and that it
was the commencement of a scheme to organize a
national bank. The debate was bitterly political.
It was urged, that as this was an administration
measure the loan should be paid within the term
of the administration. This point was foolishly
conceded, but the rate of interest was raised to 6
per cent. As thus amended the bill became a law
on July 21, 1841. The reduction of the length of
the loan from eight to three years, together with
the proviso that no stock could be sold below par,
destroyed the usefulness of the measure, and less
than one-half, or only $5,672,076, of the stock
was sold, which was about equal to the amount of
treasury notes outstanding.—On Sept.13, 1841, Mr.
Ewing was succeeded by Secretary Forward of
Pennsylvania. The policy of the administration
was changed by the death of the president. The
repeal of the independent treasury act Aug. 13,
1841, which had been authorized at the close of the
Van Buren administration, was about the only
point gained by the Harrison administration, and
this repeal practically left the treasury to be man-
aged by those who were unfriendly to the policy
Of the Whig party.— A bill for the issue and reissue
of treasury notes was introduced into the house by
Mr. Fillmore, Jan. 5, 1842. Among other proposed
amendments which were rejected, was one by Mr.
Benton, heavily taxing all bank circulation, espe-
cially small notes. The bill became a law Jan. 31,
1842. Under it the amount authorized to be out-
standing at any one time was limited to five mill-
ions, but the total amount issued and reissued was
$7,959,994. The subsequent act of Aug. 31, 1842,
authorized the issue and reissue of treasury notes,
provided the amount outstanding at any one time
should not exceed six millions, and under it notes
to the amount of $3,025,554.89 were issued.— All
of the notes issued since the act of Oct. 12, 1837,
were issued payable either one or two years after
date, chiefly for one year. These notes were con-
tinually falling due and embarrassing the treasury.
Eleven millions of such notes were to fall due dur-
ing the year 1843, and accordingly another bill
was introduced by Mr. Fillmore, providing for the
reissue of such notes as should be redeemed be-
fore July 1, 1844. The bill became a law on
March 3, 1843. — The treasury notes outstanding
on the dates named from November, 1837, to
March, 1843, are shown in the following table :*

MONTHS. 1837. 1838. 1839. 1840.
March -----|----------- $6,518,964.65|$6,552,946 || $2,176,981
November - $53,723.83| 8,009,760.01 || 3,394,180 || 4,664,200
1841. 1842. 1843.
March -----|----------- $5,393,094.00 $8,539,115 $11,656,387
November -|----------- 7,371,705.00 | 10,039,056 |-----------
—John C. Spencer succeeded Walter Forward as
secretary of the treasury, on March 3, 1843, and
| was himself succeeded, on June 15, 1844, by
George M. Bibb. Under the act of March 3, 1843,
Mr. Spencer issued about $850,000 treasury notes.
Each note on its face promised to pay, one year
after date, fifty dollars, with interest at the rate
of 1 mill per $100 per annum. On the back of
each note was indorsed, “This note will be pur-
chased at par for the amount of principal and in-
terest thcroof, on prescntation at either of the De-
positories of the Treasury in the City of New
York.” These notes, which were issued at the
nominal rate of interest of one thousandth of 1
per cent. per annum, and by the indorsement
made payable on demand, were considered by
congress an evasion of the act under which they
were issued, and the committee of ways and
means were instructed, on Jan. 15, 1844, “to in-
quire and report whether the notes lately issued
by the treasury department, bearing a nominal
interest and convertible into coin on demand, and
now forming part of the circulating medium of
the country, are authorized by the existing laws
and constitution of the United States”; and the
report of the committee, which also contains a
letter of the secretary, giving his views on the
subject, is interesting from the fact that it con-
tains the principal constitutional arguments against
the issue of paper money by the government. —
* Page 186, 3d Session, 27th Congress, Appendix. Speech
of Woodbury.
+ Report No. 379, 28th Congress, 1st Session, H. of R.
UNITED STATES NOTES. .
969
During the second session of the 27th congress,
after the veto, by President Tyler, of a bill to
authorize the organization of a bank of the United
States, the president recommended the passage of
a bill for the issue of exchequer bills of not less
than $5 in denomination, which notes were to be
signed by the treasurer of the United States, and
countersigned by the president of the board of
exchequer, and redeemable in gold and silver on
demand at the agency where issued. This bill,
which was prepared at the treasury department,
did not become a law, and it was claimed by the
committee that the notes issued by Secretary
Spencer were in most respects like the exchequer
notes proposed in this bill. The principal differ-
•ence was, that while the exchequer notes were to
be in denominations as low as $5, without interest,
the notes issued were of denominations not less
than $50, and bore a merely nominal rate of inter-
‘est. It was claimed by the committee that the
constitution authorized the government to borrow
money, but not to issue bills of credit; that bor-
rowing money implied the paying of interest for
the money borrowed; that interest-bearing treas-
ury notes payable at a future day were a tempo-
rary loan, not designed to circulate as money, and
could properly be issued; while notes bearing no
interest and payable on demand were bills of credit,
and could be issued only in violation of the con-
stitution. —From March 3, 1843, until July 26,
1846, no new issues of treasury notes were author-
ized. From 1837 to 1844 treasury notes amount-
ing to $47,002,900 were issued under eight differ-
cent acts, of which $46,216,935.82 were redeemed
by the close of 1845. The lowest denomination
for any one note was $50, but where new notes
were issued in place of old ones the accrued inter-
rest was often added. The amount authorized to
be originally issued by these several acts was
thirty-one millions. The remainder consisted of
reissues.—The following table exhibits the amount
of treasury notes issued each year, under different
acts of congress, from Oct. 12, 1837, to March 3,
1843, from which it will be seen that the total
amount issued was $47,002,900, all of which was
sold or issued at par. Interest varied from 1 mill
per Cent. to 6 per cent., and the amount author-
ized was fifty-one millions.
1837 — Act of Oct. 12, 1837-------------------. $ 2,992,989.15
1838—Act of Oct. 12, 1837-------------------- 7,007,010.85
1838—Act of May 21, 1838 ---. 5,709,810.01
1839 – Act of March 2, 1839 ------------------ 3,857,276.21
1840–Act of March 31, 1840----...------------- 5,589,547.51
1841 – Act of March 31, 1840------------------ 1,524,703.80
1841 – Act of Feb. 15, 1841 ----------------- - - 6,468,856.70
1842—Act of Feb. 15, 1841 ------------------- 1,060,206.05
1842—Act of Jan. 31, 1842-------------------- 7,914,644.83
1843– Act of Jan. 31, 1842---------------- - - - 45,350.00
1842– Act of Aug. 31, 1842 ------------------- 2,408,554.88
1843 – Act of Aug. 31, 1842 -...-------...--------- 617,000.00
1844 – Act of March 3, 1843------------------- 1,806,950.00
Total------------------------------------ $ 47,002,900.00
—TREASURY NOTES OF THE PERIOD OF THE MEx-
ICAN WAR. On July 1, 1844, the public debt of
the United States amounted to $24,748,188, and
consisted principally of stocks not payable until
the lapse of ten and twenty years.” The 5 per
cent. Stocks payable in ten years, were at a pre-
mium of 106, and the 6 per cent. stocks payable
in twenty years, at a premium of 116. The sec-
retary estimated that the revenue under the tariff
of 1842 would yield a much larger amount than
was necessary. Accordingly, congress, in July,
1846, passed a bill amending the tariff and reduc-
ing the duties on imports. In the meantime, dur.
ing the year 1845, difficulties with Mexico, owing
to the annexation of Texas, rendered war inevita-
ble, and on May 13, 1846, war was declared. Sec-
retary Walker estimated, that, if the war should
continue for a year, there would be a deficiency
of more than twelve millions; and, in order to
meet this deficiency, a bill was reported from
the committee on ways and means, which, with
some additions, embodied the provision of the
act of Oct. 12, 1837, as to treasury notes, and
that of April 14, 1842, as to a loan. The follow.
ing is the form of a $100 note issued under this
act : -
* Report of Secretary Bibb, 1844.

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970
|UNITED STATES NOTES.
The bill referred to authorized an issue of treas-
ury notes to an amount of ten millions, which
could also be reissued, and also a loan which
could be issued in lieu of treasury notes; the
amount of both not to exceed ten millions. The
stock was to be redeemable after ten years, no
notes of less than $50 were to be issued, and they
were to be signed by the treasurer and the register,
The rate of interest was not to exceed 6 per cent.
Notes were to be used in payment of public cred-
itors who would receive them, and the secretary
could borrow money on them. The bill became
a law July 22, 1846. Under this act, $7,687,800
of notes were issued, and $4,999,149 of stock.
Of these notes $2,086,550 bore interest at 53 per
cent., and $1,766,450 at 1 mill per cent. per annum.
—In January, 1847, the treasury was again in
need, and to meet this necessity a bill was intro-
duced, authorizing the issue of twenty-three mill-
ions of treasury notes, and an additional five mill-
ions under the act of July 22, 1846. This was an
elaborate bill, containing all necessary provisions
within itself, without referring back to the provis-
ions of previous acts, as had been usually the case.
in legislation of this kind. The debate was princi-
pally upon the conduct of the war, and, after one or
two amendments had been agreed to, the bill passed.
the house on the same day that it was introduced,
by a vote of 166 to 22. In the senate on Jan. 25,
a resolution to postpone its consideration was.
lost, and the debate took considerable latitude,
principally upon the tariff question. The general
sentiment appeared to be, that in the midst of the
war the honor of the country must be sustained.
Finally, with some slight amendments, the bill
passed, on Jan. 27, 1847, by a vote of 43 to 2, and
became a law on the following day. —Notes issued
under this act were not to be of a less denomina-
tion than $50, and were receivable in payment of
public dues, including duties on imports, and were
redeemable at the expiration of one or two years,
and the interest was to cease at the expiration of
sixty days' notice. The following is the form of
a 6 per cent. $100 note issued under this act:
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|UNITED STATES NOTES.
971.
The principal of the notes was fundable into 6
per cent. bonds, redeemable after Dec. 30, 1867,
and this privilege was extended to the holders of
notes issued under previous acts. Reissues were
authorized, but the amount of stock and notes,
at any one time, was not to exceed twenty-three
millions. The right to issue treasury notes, under
the act of July 22, 1846, was extended by the fif-
teenth section to the period fixed by these acts,
and on the same terms, but the issue, under this
section, was not to exceed five millions. $12,371,-
150 of these notes were issued previous to July 1,
1847, and $11,956,950 additional notes were issued
during the next fiscal year. The whole amount
of issues and reissues under the act was $26,122,-
100, all of which were either sold or paid to pub-
lic creditors at par. The “rate of interest of
the notes was 53 and 6 per cent., and United
States 6 per cent. bonds, chiefly for the purpose
of redeeming these notes, were issued under the
same act, amounting to $28,230,350.-The treas-
ury notes issued under the act of Jan. 28, 1847,
were all retired, with the exception of about
$200,000, previous to July 1, 1850, and no addi-
tional treasury notes were authorized, until the
passage of the act of Dec. 23, 1857. Secretary
Cobb, in his report for that year, estimated that
the receipts would exceed the expenditures, but
said that the financial revulsion which had caused
the banks to suspend specie payment in October
of that year, had also caused a large part of the
dutiable merchandise to be stored without pay-
ment of duty, where it could remain under the
law for three years, although it was probable that
a considerable portion would be withdrawn and
the duties paid previous to that date. Meanwhile,
means should be provided for meeting the de-
States.
mands upon the treasury, and he recommended
that authority should be given to issue treasury
notes “for an amount not exceeding twenty mill-
ions of dollars, and payable within a limited time,
and carry a specified rate of interest.” A bill, in
accordance with the suggestion of the secretary,
was introduced into both houses of congress on
Dec. 18, 1857. It passed the senate on the follow-
ing day, by a vote of 31 to 18, and the house on
the 22d by a vote of 118 to 86, and was approved
on the following day and became a law. The bill
provided for the issue of notes payable in one
year from date of issue to an amount not exceed-
ing twenty millions. $6,000,000 were to be issued
at a rate of interest not exceeding 6 per cent. The
remainder was to be sold after public advertise-
ment of not less than thirty days, at their par
value, for specie, to the bidders offering to take
them at the lowest rate of interest, not exceeding
6 per cent. The interest upon the notes was to
expire, after maturity of notes, upon sixty days’
notice from the secretary, of his readiness to re-
deem such notes; they were to be issued in de-
nominations of not less than $100, and were to be
signed by the treasurer and register; they were
receivable in payment of all dues to the United
The whole amount authorized was issued,
and the amount of issues and reissues, in all, was
$52,778,900. The interest upon these notes was
as follows: $6,323,600 at 3 per cent.; $985,000 at
from 3% to 4 per cent.; $688,000 at 4+ per cent. ;
$10,055,700 at 4% per cent.; $4,532,500 at 4% per
cent.; $7,533,900 at 5 per cent.; $8,204,500 at
5% per cent. ; $3,514,100 at 5% per cent.; and
$10,941,600 at 6 per cent. The following is the
form of a 3 per cent. $100 note issued under this
a Cf. :
6. &e
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Register ºf the U.S. ſeasury.
Cº.
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NOTES. Act. Rate of Interest. Interest ceased at— Principal Interest.
Treasury Notes, 1846---------- Prior to 1846. 1 mill to 6 per cent. | Various dates from 1838 to 1844. $82,525 $2,688.06
Treasury Notes, 1846-----, ---- July 22, 1846. 1 mill to 6 per cent. | Various dates in 1847 and 1848. 5,900 200.00
Treasury Notes, 1847---------- Jan. 28, 1847. 6 per cent. Various dates in 1848 and 1849. 950 5,700.
Treasury Notes, 1857 - -------- Dec. 23, 1857. 3 to 6 per cent. | Various dates in 1858 and 1859. 1,700 99.00
972
|UNITED STATES NOTES.
— The table given at foot of page 971 exhibits
the different kinds of treasury notes outstand-
ing on February 1, 1884, which were issued from
the organization of the government to the date
of the passage of the act of March 2, 1861.
— TREASURY NOTES OF THE PERIOD OF THE
CIVIL WAR. The total public debt on June 20,
1860, was $64,769,703.08. The outstanding treas-
ury notes issued under act of June 23, 1857, were
$19,690,500. The amount of treasury notes out-
standing, issued under acts previous to that date,
was $105,111.64. The act of June 22, 1860, au-
thorized a loan of twenty-one millions, at a rate of
interest not exceeding 6 per cent., to be reim-
bursed within a period not more than twenty
years, and not less than ten years. The money
was to be used in the redemption of treasury
notes, and to replace any amount paid to the
treasurer in such notes for public dues. Under
this authority, proposals were invited by Secre-
tary Cobb, on Sept. 8, 1860, for ten millions of
this loan, which amount was “ample to meet all
the treasury notes that would fall due before Jan.
1, 1861.” In his report for Dec. 4, 1860, he says:
“The rate of interest was fixed at 5 per centum
per annum, under the conviction that the loan
could be readily negotiated at that rate, for, at
that time, the 5 per cent, stock of the United
States was selling in the market at the premium
of 3 per cent. The result realized this just ex-
pectation, and the whole amount offered was
taken, either at par or a small premium.” Before,
however, the time had arrived for payment on the
part of the bidders, political complications arose,
which affected the credit of the government so
unfavorably, that the amount realized was but
$7,022,000, the subscribers of $2,978,000 having
failed to make good their subscriptions. The sec-
retary stated, that, in the present condition of the
country, capitalists were unwilling to invest in
United States stock at par, and recommended a
repeal of so much of the act of June 22, 1860, as
authorized the issue of the additional stock, and
asked for authority for the issue of treasury notes
for the same amount, “to be negotiated at such
rates as will command the confidence of the coun-
try.” He recommended that the public lands be
unconditionally pledged for the ultimate redemp-
tion of all the treasury notes which it may become
necessary to issue, and suggested, “that there
should always exist in the department power to
issue treasury notes for a limited amotunt, under
the direction of the President, to meet unforeseen
contingencies. It is a power which can never be
abused, as the amount realized from such source
can only be used to meet lawful demands upon the
treasury. No secretary of the treasury, or presi-
dent, would ever exercise it, unless compelled to
do so by the exigencies of the public service.
On the other hand, it would enable the govern-
ment to meet, without embarrassment, those sud-
den revulsions to which the country is always
liable, and which can not always be anticipated.
I have already stated that provision should be
made at once to relieve the treasury from its pres-
ent embarrassment, produced by the causes re-
ferred to. To do this, congress should authorize
the issue of an additional amount of treasury notes,
not less than ten millions of dollars : with this
means the department would be enabled to meet
all lawful demands upon it for the present. The
extent of the financial crisis, through which the
Country is now passing, can not now be deter-
mined, and until it is better known, no policy can
be recommended of a permanent character.” —
Secretary Cobb resigned on Dec. 10, but the act of
Dec. 17, 1860, was passed in compliance with the
Suggestions contained in his report. The pledge
of the proceeds of the public land was not given
in the act, and one of the reasons for withholding
such legislation was; that it would interfere with
the passage of the homestead bill, which was then
under consideration. The act authorized the issue
of ten millions of treasury notes in denominations
of not less than $50, redeemable in one year from
the date of issue, with interest at the rate of 6 per
cent., but the secretary was authorized to issue
Such notes after advertisement at the lowest rate
of interest offered. Of these notes, five millions
were offered to subscribers. The bids were opened
Dec. 28, and only $500,000 were taken at 12 per
cent. It was important to negotiate the loan in
Order to meet the interest on government bonds
upon Jan. 1. The remainder of the loan was
subscribed by the banks in New York, previous
to that date, at 12 per cent. Gen. John A. Dix
was appointed secretary of the treasury on Jan.
11, and bids for the remaining $5,000,000 were
opened on the 19th, and the notes awarded at the
average rate of 103 per cent., as follows:
$ 10,000------------------------------------ at 8% per cent.
30,000-------------------------------------- 9 {
10,000-------------------------------------- 9} “
140,000-------------------------------------- 94 & 4
67,000-------------------------------------- 94 “
721,000------------ ---------------- - - - - - - - - - 10 { %
865,000-------------------------------------. 10+ “
543,000-------------------------------------. 10; “
1,367,000-------------------------------------- 103. “
1,947,000-------------------------------------- 11 & &
$5,000,000 Total. Average, 10% per cent.
The whole ten millions were issued, redeemable
at the expiration of one year from date, bearing
interest as follows: $70,200 at 6 per cent.; $384,-
500 at rates varying from 6 to 10 per cent.; $1,027,-
500 at 10 per cent.; $3,688,700 at rates from 10 to
12 per cent.; and $4,840,000 at 12 per cent. Addi-
tional offers bearing interest, ranging from 15 to
36 per cent., were declined. The amount of treas-
ury notes outstanding on Dec. 1, 1860, previous
to the passage of this act, was $14,599,700, of
which $42,600 was payable in 1859, $3,133,400 in
1860, and $11,423,700 in 1861. Of these notes,
$8,684,200 bore interest at 6 per cent., and the
remainder at lower rates. – Secretary Dix, in a
letter to the chairman of the committee of ways
and means, dated Jan. 18, 1861,-says: “Within
the last few days the amount of overdue treasury
UNITED STATES NOTES.
973:
notes presented for redemption has exceeded the
power of the treasurer to place drafts for payment
on the assistant treasurer at New York, where the
holders desire the remittances to be made; and an
accumulation of warrants, to the amount of about
$433,000, has accrued on this account in the
treasurer's hands, which he has been unable to
pay.” He also says: “That notice issued on the
18th ultimo invited proposals for the exchange of
five millions of dollars for treasury notes, and
offers at 12 per cent. or less were made only to the
amount of $1,831,000; offers to exchange $465,000
for notes bearing interest at rates varying from 18
to 36 per cent. were also received. The offers at
12 per cent. and less were accepted; those above
that rate were rejected. The remainder of the five
millions offered was soon thereafter taken at 12
per cent., and the whole amount was pledged to
the payment of over-due treasury notes and other
pressing demands on the treasury. * * During
the last quarter, about eight millions of treasury
notes were redeemed, which, with the two and
One-half millions redeemed since the first instant,
make ten and a half millions. The amount re-
ceived from the loan, a small fraction above seven
millions, threw upward of three and a half millions
of these notes on the other resources of the treas-
ury for redemption. This is one of the principal
causes of the delay and difficulty which have re-
cently existed in providing for other demands of
public service.” So low had the credit of the gov-
ernment fallen, through the political agitations
and troubles just previous to the war of the re-
bellion, that he closed his communication by call-
ing attention to the fact, that, “there are depos-
ited with twenty-six of the states for safe keeping,
over twenty-eight millions of dollars belonging to
the United States, for the payment of which the
promise of these states is pledged by written in-
struments on file in this department. The annual
statement of receipts and expenditures for the
year ending June 30, 1860, represents this amount
as part of the ‘balance in the treasury’ on that
day. * * I refer to this final resource as an
available one, should the public exigencies de-
mand it. It is not doubted that the greater por-
tion of the amount so deposited would be promptly
ly and cheerfully paid should an exigency arise
involving the public honor or safety. , If, instead
of calling for these deposits, it should be deemed
advisable to pledge them for the repayment of any
money the government might find it necessary to
borrow, loans contracted on such a basis of secu-
rity, superadding to the plighted faith of the
|United States that of the individual states, could
hardly fail to be acceptable to capitalists.”—Dur-
ing the following month the act of Feb. 8, 1861,
was passed, which authorized a loan not exceed-
ing twenty-five millions of 6 per cent. bonds, the
avails to be used in the payment of current ex-
penses, for the redemption of outstanding treasury
notes, and to replace in the treasury such amounts
as had been paid in treasury notes. Of this loan,
bearing 6 per cent. interest, and having twenty
years to run, $18,415,000 was issued, at an aggre-
gate discount of $2,019,776, or an average rate of
$83.03 for $100. In less than a month after the
passage of this act providing for the payment of
the treasury notes outstanding, the act of March
2, 1861, was passed, which authorized a loan of
ten millions at 6 per cent., redeemable upon three
months’ notice, after July 1, 1871, payable July
1, 1881, or, instead thereof, the issue of $10,000,000.
of new notes in denominations of not less than
$50, bearing interest at the rate of 6 per cent. per
annum, payable semi-annually, receivable in pay-
ment of all debts due the United States, including
customs duties, and redeemable at pleasure, within
two years from the passage of the act. The same.
act largely increased the duties on imports, and
authorized the substitution of treasury notes for
the whole or a part of the loans previously au-
thorized. Under this act, $35,364,450 in all, of
treasury notes, were issued, of which $22,468,100
were redeemable in two years, and $12,896,350.
redeemable in sixty days after date; and a consid-
erable portion of these notes were paid out to
creditors. — General Dix was succeeded by Sec-
retary Chase on March 7, 1861. The great increase
of import duties, imposed by the act of March 2,
had caused the bonds of the government to advance
in the market, and it seemed to be a favorable
time to offer the remainder of the bonds author-
ized by the act of Feb. 8, 1861. Bids for eight
millions of the bonds were opened on April 2.
Offers at from 94 to par were received for $3,099,-
000, and 93% for the remainder of the loans. All
bids below 94 were rejected. In the midst of
these negotiations it became known that arrange-
ments were being made to send an additional
force for the relief of Fort Sumter. No additional
bonds were sold until May 31, when $7,310,000.
were sold at an average rate of $85.34 for $100.
In place of bonds, five millions of treasury notes.
were offered, and the bids opened on April 11
amounted to only one million; but shortly there-
after the whole amount offered was taken. The
United States 6 per cent, bonds were selling in the
market at 83, and money at call was worth from
4 to 5 per cent.; but the treasury notes bearing 6.
per cent. interest could be held and used or sold
at a profit for the purpose of paying duties. Ad-
ditional treasury notes of the same kind, as has.
been seen, were subsequently sold, amounting, in
all, to more than thirty-five millions, at rates.
ranging from par to 14% per cent. premium.
On page 974 will be found the form of a $50.
note issued under the act of March 2, 1861. —
Civil war was inaugurated by the attack on Fort
Sumter on April 12. The fort surrendered on
April 14, and on the following day President.
Lincoln issued a call for seventy-five thousand.
soldiers. The southern states were declared
blockaded. Seven of these states had, by ordi-
nances, publicly declared their secession from
the Union, and their defiance of the national
authority, and a convention at Montgomery, Ala-
bama, had organized a new government, under
974. • UNITED STATES NOTES.
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the name of “The Confederate States of Amer-
ica.” Massachusetts soldiers, on their way to
Washington, were attacked by a mob in Baltimore.
In the month of May the confederate capital was .
removed to Richmond; North Carolina and Ar-
kansas seceded, and the Union army crossed the
Potomac into Virginia, and took possession of
Alexandria and Arlington Heights. In June,
Tennessee passed an ordinance of secession, and
Gen. Butler was defeated at Big Bethel. The
two-year treasury notes which had been recently
issued at par, were at 2% per cent. discount; and
the government, instead of disposing of the notes,
borrowed five millions at sixty days upon them as
collateral Security. During the following month
the disastrous results of the first battle of Bull
Run startled the entire country. The Union ar-
my, defeated, fell back upon Washington, and
the capital of the country was believed to be in
danger. Two days thereafter, President Lincoln
called for five hundred thousand three-year vol-
unteers. An extra Session of congress had been
\
called for July 4, 1861, and on that day, amid
events like these, Secretary Chase transmitted his
first report to Congress, which recommended
measures to provide the means for continuing a
civil War which proved in magnitude to be une-
qualed in the history of nations. Specie pay-
ments were suspended on Dec. 28, 1861. The
war was carried on chiefly by the use of treasury
notes as a circulating medium. The purchasing
power of these notes rapidly declined. Prices of
all kinds advanced rapidly, and particularly the
prices of articles most needed for the supply of
the army. The expenditures of the government
during the four years of the war were vastly in-
creased beyond the amount which would have
been necessary if the war could have been con-
ducted upon the gold standard instead of upon the
fluctuating standard of the legal tender paper dol-
lar.—Never was a great national debt contracted
so rapidly. In 1835, as has been seen, the coun-
try was entirely out of debt, and on Jan. 1, 1861,
the whole debt of the Union amounted to but 166
UNITED STATES NOTES.
975
millions. Gen. Lee surrendered at Appomattox,
on April 9, 1865; which date was four years, lack-
ing five days, after Fort Sumter had surrendered
to the enemy. On the first day of July, 1861,
the débt was 90 millions; at the close of that fis-
cal year it had reached 524 millions; at the end
of the succeeding year, it was considerably more
than twice that amount, being on July 1, 1863,
$1,119,772,138. During the following year it in-
creased nearly 700 millions. For the next nine
months, to the close of the war, it increased at
the rate of about sixty millions a month. An
immense amount of obligations against the gov-
ernment were presented, after the close of the
war; and, for the five months thereafter, the as-
Certained debt increased at the rate of three mill-
ions a day. The cost of conducting the war,
after it was once fully inaugurated, was scarce-
ly at any time less than thirty millions a month.
At many times it far exceeded that amount ;
sometimes it was not less than ninety millions a
month, and the average expenses of the war, from
the date of its inception to its conclusion, may
be said to be not less than two millions each
day. The public debt reached its maximum
on Aug. 31, 1865, at which day it amounted to
$2,845,907,626.56. Of this amount, $1,109,568,191
was in funded debt; $1,503,020 was debt which
had matured; and $2,111,000 was in suspended
requisitions. The remainder was as follows:
United States legal tender notes------------ $ 433,160,569.00
Compound interest legal tender notes------- 217,024,160.00
Five per cent, legal tender notes------------ 33,954,230.00
Seven-thirty notes------. ------------------- 830,000,000.00
Fractional currency------------------------ 26,344,742.51
Temporary loans--------------------------- 107,148,713.16
"Certificates of indebtedness---------------- 85,093,000.00
Total---------------------------------- $1,732,725,414.67
There were more than 684 millions of these obli-
gations, which were a legal tender, of which 207
millions were bearing compound interest at the
rate of 6 per cent. 830 millions were in treasury
notes, bearing interest at the rate of 74% per cent.
per annum. There were $1,540,483,701 of treas-
ury notes, either payable on demand or bearing
interest. If the temporary loans, which were pay-
able in thirty days from the time of deposit, after
notice of ten days, and the certificates of indebt-
edness, which bore interest at 6 per cent., payable
one year after date, or earlier, at the option of the
government, are included with the treasury notes,
the whole would amount to considerably more
than three-fifths of the whole public debt of the
country. — Secretary Chase, in his report, esti-
mated the whole sum required for the fiscal year
to be not less than 318 millions, of which 215
millions would be required for the war and naval
service; more than twelve millions ($12,639,861.64)
to pay treasury notes due and to become due; and
nine millions to pay interest upon the proposed
new debt. He was of the opinion that not less
than eighty millions should be provided by taxa-
tion, and 240 millions obtained by loans. The
principal part of the revenue was to be obtained
of the rate proposed.
without interest.
from the tariff, the remainder by a system of direct
taxation or internal duties. Six per cent. bonds,
amounting to $18,415,000, had already been sold,
at from par to $85.34 for $100, and treasury notes
bearing interest at 6 per cent. had been paid to
Creditors. He considered that ‘‘in a contest for
national existence and the sovereignty of the peo-
ple, it is eminently proper that the appeal for the
means of prosecuting it with energy to a speedy
and successful issue, should be made, in the first in-
stance at least, to the people themselves.” Among
other recommendations, he proposed a loan of 100
millions, to be issued in the form of treasury
notes, or exchequer bills, bearing interest at the
rate of 7% per cent., to be paid semi-annually,
and redeemable at pleasure, after three years from
date. The interest at this rate was suggested, be-
cause it was liberal to the subscribers, convenient
for calculation, and, under existing circumstances,
a fair rate for the government. The rate would
be convenient for calculation; for, the interest be-
ing equal to one cent a day on $50, two cents a
day on $100, ten cents on $500, twenty cents on
$1,000, and one dollar on $5,000, it would be only
necessary to consider the number of days since
the date of the note, to determine, at the close,
the amount due on it. It was proposed to issue
these notes in sums of fifty, one hundred, five hun-
dred, one thousand, and five thousand dollars,
with the amount of interest for specified periods
engraved on the back of each note, and the facil-
ity thus secured to the holder of determining the
exact amount of interest, it was thought, would
enhance its value. “While the rate proposed is
thus liberal and convenient, the secretary regards
it also as, under existing circumstances, fair and
equitable to the government. The bonds of the
United States, bearing an interest of 6 per cent.,
and redeemable twenty years after date, can not
be disposed of at current market rates, so that the
interest on the amount realized will not exceed
7#5 per cent. ; nor is there any reason to believe
that treasury notes, bearing an interest of 6 per
cent., receivable for public dues and convertible
into twenty years’ 6 per cent. bonds, can be dis-
posed of in any large amounts, so that the interest
on the sum realized will fall much, if at all, short
For the difference of inter-
est, if any, between such notes and those of the
proposed national loan, the secretary thinks that
the absence of the feature of receivability for
public dues in the latter is a sufficient compensa-
tion.” He also proposed notes of Small denomina-
tions, ten, twenty and twenty-five dollars, payable
one year from date, to an amount not exceeding
fifty millions, bearing interest at the rate of 34%
per cent., to be exchanged for the other form of
treasury notes, bearing interest at 73%, Or, if more
convenient, made redeemable in coin, on demand,
“The greatest care,” he said,
“will, however, be requisite to prevent the degra-
dation of such issues into an irredeemable paper
currency, than which no more certainly fatal ex-
pedient for impoverishing the masses, and dis-
976
|UNITED STATES NOTES.
crediting the government of any country can well
be devised.” — Treasury notes authorized by the
acts of June 30, 1812, Feb. 24, 1815, and three
intervening acts, bore interest, as recommended
by Secretary Gallatin, as has been seen, at the
rate of 53 per cent. a year, and were receivable in
payment of all duties and taxes laid by the author-
ity of the United States, and for all public lands
sold by said authority; and when so received, in-
terest was to be computed at the rate of “one
cent and one-half a cent per day” on every one
hundred dollars of principal, each month being
reckoned as thirty days. It is probable, that the
proposition for the issue of the seven-thirty notes
was obtained from this act, for a substitute was
proposed for the legal tender act, which passed
the house of representatives Feb. 6, 1862, which
contained a section providing for the issue of
transferable certificates bearing interest at the rate
of 53 per cent. per annum. These recommenda-
tions of the Secretary were embodied in the acts of
July 17 and Aug. 5, 1861. The first was passed by
nearly the unanimous vote of the house, only five
votes (one from Kentucky, two from Missouri,
one from Ohio, and one from New York) having
been against it. It authorized the secretary to
borrow 250 millions, either in twenty-year treas-
ury notes, with interest not exceeding 7 per cent.,
or in seven-thirty three-year treasury notes, and
to issue demand notes, bearing no interest, and
receivable for public dues. These latter notes
were limited to fifty millions, and to denomina-
tions of not less than ten dollars. But the act
of August 5 authorized the issue of five dollar
notes; also twenty-year 6 per cent. bonds for the
amount of the Seven-thirty notes issued, which
bonds were to be used only in exchange, or for
the purpose of funding such notes. Under these
acts, nearly 140 millions of seven-thirty notes
were issued, and sixty millions of demand notes,
without interest; ten millions of these notes hav-
ing been authorized by the act of Feb. 12, 1862. —
The first demand notes were issued in August,
and paid for Salaries at Washington. They were
received with reluctance, and the merchants and
shop-keepers endeavored to discredit them. Rail-
road corporations refused them in payment of
fares and freight; and leading banks in the city
of New York refused to receive them except on
special deposits. The secretary and other officers
of the treasury signed a paper agreeing to accept
them in payment of salaries. A circular was is-
sued to the various assistant treasurers, stating that
treasury notes of the denominations of five, ten
and twenty dollars had been, and will continue to
be issued, redeemable in coin on demand in Bos-
ton, New York, Philadelphia, St. Louis and Cin-
cinnati. Gen. Scott also issued a circular on Sept.
3, 1861, announcing to the army, “that the treas-
ury department, to meet future payments to the
troops, is about to supply, besides coin, treasury
notes in five, ten and twenty dollars, as good as
gold in all banks and government offices through-
out the United States, and most convenient for
transmission by mail from the officers and men,
to their families at home.” Of these notes $24,-
550,325 were issued before the 1st of December,
and $33,460,000 were in circulation at the time of
the suspension of specie payment on Dec. 28. The
whole amount authorized was issued prior to April
1, 1862. Notwithstanding the circular of the secre.
tary, it became necessary to use the available coin.
in payment of the interest upon the public debt,
and there was at times some difficulty in redeem-
ing the notes promptly in gold. At a meeting of
the associated banks in the city of New York, in
January, 1862, it was resolved, “That before we
receive such notes, we must require that such
legal provision be made by congress as shall in-
sure their speedy redemption, and that a commit-
tee of the association be appointed to consider the
subject and report on it at an adjourned meeting.”
The notes were receivable for duties, and soon.
obtained good credit. After the suspension of
specie payment, efforts were made to retire them.
as rapidly as possible, for as they were receivable
for duties, they embarrassed the government in
providing for the gold interest upon the public
debt. — On July 1, 1863, more than fifty six mill-
ions had been retired, and a much larger amount
of legal-tender notes had been placed in circula-
tion. The demand notes were not, by the terms of
the law, made payable in gold, but as they were
authorized prior to the suspension of specie pay-
ment, and proclaimed as payable in coin by the
circular of the secretary, they were considered so.
payable, and, after the suspension of specie pay-
ment, were quoted at times at about the same
premium for legal-tender notes as gold. Interest
upon the first issue of the seven-thirty notes was.
also paid in gold. These notes were fundable into
twenty-year 6 per cent. bonds of 1881, and but
few were presented for payment. The amount.
redeemed in money to Nov. 1, 1864, was only
$63,500, while the whole amount converted into
bonds to that date was $125,864,900.*—The seven-
thirty loan was successfully negotiated through
the associated banks of New York, who, jointly
with the banks of Boston and Philadelphia, made
a contract with the secretary on Aug. 15, 1861,
for the purchase of government securities to the
amount of 150 millions, in three different install-
ments. The total amount taken by the New York
banks, was 105 millions. Whenever subscriptions.
were made, 10 per cent. was paid to the assistant.
treasurers in New York, Boston and Philadelphia,
and the remainder was placed to the credit Of the
|United States on the books of the banks subscrib-
ing. The arrangement of the associated banks.
among themselves was to issue certificates to each
subscriber, stating the amount so subscribed, and
placed to the credit of the government; and, as
such deposits were withdrawn, or paid into the
treasury, seven-thirty notes were issued for the
same amount to the subscribers respectively. An
immediate issue was to be made of Seven-thirty
treasury notes, dated Aug. 15, 1861, to the extent.
* Finance Report, 1864, p. 10. -
UNITED STATES NOTES.
977
of fifty millions, bearing interest from that date.
The associated banks were to take jointly this
amount at par, with the privilege of fifty millions
on Oct. 15, and fifty millions on Dec. 15 ; the
banks giving their decision on the first days of
these months. It was understood, that, if the
whole amount should be taken, no other govern-
ment stock or treasury notes, except demand
notes, should be negotiated or paid out by the
treasury until Feb. 1, 1862. The details of this
negotiation, which was perhaps the most impor-
tant one during the war, are given in the Bankers’
Magazine for September, 1861, and August, 1862.
— The report of June 12, 1862, of the loan com-
mittee of the associated banks of New York, states,
that, at the time the negotiation was made, ‘‘the
credit of the government had become impaired to
such a degree that a large loan could not be ob-
tained in any ordinary way, nor even a small tem-
porary loan, except for a very short period at a
high rate of interest. Men's hearts failed them :
the rebellion was on so large a scale, and had so
unexpectedly broken out and raged with such
fury, that to subdue it seemed to most persons to
be impossible. Then it was, after careful delibera-
tion and consultation with the secretary, that the
banks decided it to be wise for them to depart
from their usual legitimate business, and sustain
the government credit, and stand or fall with it.
This act restored the public confidence, and was
the highest indorsement of the public credit that
could then have been given. * * When the
banks agreed to advance this large amount to the
government, they did so without hope or expecta-
tion of profit from it, and they earnestly sought to
obtain from the government the assurance that
they should be indemnified from loss. It was not
until five months after taking the first loan, and
two months after taking the third, in the month
of January last, that there was any reason to ex-
pect the Securities to command in the market a
price higher than that at which they had been
taken. * * Much doubt was expressed, even by
our most experienced bankers and financiers,
when the contract was entered into, of the ability
of the banks to fulfill it. It has been fulfilled by
them to the letter, and has proven of more value
to the country than can be estimated. As fortu-
nately as unexpectedly, it has resulted profitably
for the associates, and has probably enabled them
to employ their means to nearly as much advan-
tage as would have been done but for the po-
litical disturbances of the country.”—Secretary
Chase, in his report for Dec. 9, 1861, thus refers to
this negotiation : “Representatives from the bank-
ing institutions of the three cities, responding to
his invitation, met him for consultation in New
York, and after full conference, agreed to unite as
associates in moneyed support to the government,
and to subscribe at once a loan of fifty millions of
dollars, of which five millions were to be paid im-
mediately to the assistant treasurers, in coin, and
the residue, also in coin, as needed for disburse-
ment. The Secretary, on Inis part, agreed to issue
181 VOL. III. — 62
three year seven-thirty bonds, or treasury notes,
bearing even date with the subscription, and of
equal amount ; to cause books of subscription to
the national loan to be immediately opened ; to
reimburse the advances of the banks, as far as
practicable, from this national subscription; and
to deliver to them seven-thirty bonds, or treasury
notes, for the amount not thus reimbursed. It
was further understood, that the secretary of the
treasury should issue a limited amount of United
States notes, payable on demand, in aid of the
operations of the treasury, and that the associated
institutions, when the first advance of fifty mill-
ions should be expended, would, if practicable,
make another, and, when that should be exhaust-
ed, still another advance to the government of the
same amount, and on similar terms. * * All
these objects were happily accomplished. Fifty
millions of dollars were immediately advanced by
the banks. The secretary caused books of sub-
scription to be opened throughout the country,
and the people subscribed freely to the loan. The
amounts thus subscribed were reimbursed to the
banks, and the sum reimbursed, though then
covering but little more than half the amount, en-
abled those institutions, when a second loan was
required, to make a second advante of $50,000,-
000. Thus, two loans, of $50,000,000 each, have
been negotiated for three-year seven-thirty bonds,
at par. The first of these loans was negotiated,
and the first issue of bonds bears date, Aug. 19,
, the second Oct. 1, 1861.”— On Nov. 16, a third
loan was negotiated with the associated institu-
tions under the seventh section of the act of Aug.
5, 1861, by agreeing to issue to them fifty millions
of dollars in 6 per cent. bonds, at a rate equiva-
lent to par, for the bonds bearing 7 per cent. inter-
est, authorized by the act of July 17, 1861. — The
table on page 978 gives quotations of United
States 5 and 6 per cent. bonds, of treasury notes
and of gold, at the dates stated, compiled from
tables in Hunt’s Merchants’ Magazine for 1862–3–4.
— About three years after the passage of the act
authorizing the first issue of seven-thirty notes,
another act was passed, on June 30, 1864, author-
izing 200 millions of similar notes, and a subse-
quent act of March 3, 1865, authorized 600 mill-
ions in addition, and under this act the whole
amount (including $29,992,500 of reissues) was is-
sued. Of this amount forty-four millions were in
denominations of fifty dollars; 137 millions, in one
hundreds; 228 millions, in five hundreds; 370 mill-
ions, in one thousands; and about fifty millions, in
five thousands. They were issued in three series,
dated Aug. 15, 1864, June 15, 1865, and July 15,
1865. These notes, like those that preceded them,
were fundable into 6 per cent. bonds—the former
into eighty-ones, and the latter into five-twenties—
and this fact was printed upon the reverse of each
note. The 800 millions last issued were payable,
principal and interest, in lawful money. More
than twenty millions, which were authorized by
the act of June 20, 1864, were paid to the soldiers
direct. Of the 600 millions, authorized by the act
978 |UNITED STATES NOTES.
6’s, 1861. 1 Year
YEARS AND MONTHS 5's, 1874. gºs. Certigates| *ś" | Gold.
Registered.] Coupon. Old.
1862. -
February 5------------------------------- - 88 89 78% ----------|-----------|-----------|---------
March 1-------------------- ------- 934 92; 85; 994 |-----------|----------- 24
April 1- ----------------------------- 93 93 87 99% 96% ----------- 2
May 10------------------------------- 103} 103 94 104 99% + 3#
June 7------------------------------- 103 106 96 106+ 100+ 1 4;
July 5------------------------ ------- 100% 100; 95 102 984 5}: 9;
August 8------------------------------- 98} 984 85} 1024 98} 5+ 15%
September 6------------------------------- 99% 99; 884 103} 99 8 19+
October 4------------------------------. 1044 104; 94 105+ 94 22; 23
November 1-------- ---------------------- 104 104+ 93% 105+ 99% 264 31}.
December 6.-------sº-------------------- 101 104 91} 104 974 25 32
. 1863.
January 3------------------------------- 96} 98 884. 102}. 96+ 29 34%
February 7--------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 92 93% 854 102 94 55 57;
March 7------------------------------- 99% 100% 94% 105 984 53 55}
April 4------------------------------- 1044 105 97 104; 99 |----------- 55#.
1 Year
Certificat's
Wew.
May 8------------------------------- 105} 1064. 974 1064 102 994. 150}
June 6------------------------------- 104 108+ 99 107 101} 97+ 145;
July 11------------------------------- 104} 105 97; 106 100; 98% 1324
August 1------------------------------- 104; 105+ 964 1064 101 99; 129#
September 5------------------------------- 106 106 95 106 100; 99; 131#.
October 8------------------------------- 107 106% 95 106+ 10.1% 99; 143%
November 7------------------------------- 108 109 98 107 1014 98% 1473.
November 27-------fSöſ * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 108 100 98 106; 101} 98 145}
January 8------------------------------- 104} 1054 96 1064 101; 973. 152
February 6------------------------------- 107; 7+ 100 108 102} 98; 1593.
March 5------------------------------- 111+ 111 100 111 103} 99% 161;
April 8.------------------------------ 111 110 100 111 ||----------. 99% 166%
May 7------------------------------- 113 113 102 1094 ||----------- 98#. 172;
June 4------------------------------ 109 113+ 102 109% |----------- 98 191
July 11------------------------------- 102} 102} 102 1034 ----------- 94}. 285
August 6 ------------------------------ 106+ 105+ 99 107% ----------- 94+ 26.1%
September 3------------------------------- 107 107 100 111 || ---------- 93; 243}
October 1------------------------------- 106 1064 j03 110# ----------- 94% 1933.
November 5------------------------------- 1074 106; 100 106# |------- --- 954 244+
December 12------------------------------- 108} 108; 100 120 ----------- 97; 2374.
of March 3, 1865, seventy millions were issued
during that month, and the whole remainder was
taken during the following four months. Sec-
retary McCulloch, in his report for Dec. 4, 1865,
thus refers to the negotiations and issue of the re-
maining 530 millions of these notes: ‘‘ Upon the
capture of Richmond, and the surrender of the
confederate armies, it became apparent that there
would be an early disbanding of the forces of the
United States, and consequently heavy requisi-
tions from the war department for transportation
and payment of the army, including bounties.
As it was important that these requisitions should
be promptly met, and especially important that
not a soldier should remain in the service a single
day for want of means to pay him, the Secretary
perceived the necessity of realizing as speedily as
possible the amount—$530,000,000—still author-
ized to be borrowed under this act. The seven
and three-tenths notes had proved to be a popular
loan, and although a Security On longer time and
lower interest would have been more advanta-
geous to the government, the Secretary considered
it advisable, under the circumstances, to continue
to offer these notes to the public, and to avail
himself, as his immediate predecessors had done,
of the services of Jay Cooke, Esq., in the sale of
them. The result was in the highest degree satis-
factory. By the admirable skill and energy of the
agent, and the hearty co-operation of the national
banks, these notes were distributed in every part
of the northern and some parts of the Southern
states, and placed within the reach of every person
desiring to invest in them. No loan ever offered
in the United States, notwithstanding the large
amount of government Securities previously taken
by the people, was so promptly subscribed for as
this. Before the first of August the entire amount
of $530,000,000 had been taken, and the secretary
had the unexpected satisfaction of being able, with
the receipts from customs and internal revenue
and a small increase of the temporary loan, to
meet all the requisitions upon the treasury.”—
On the opposite page is the form of the seven-
thirty note issued under the act of March 3, 1865,
with one coupon attached. The whole half year's
interest was payable with the note, and there were
five coupons upon the right end of the note. On
the reverse were printed these words: “Pay to
bearer. At maturity convertible at the option of
the holder into bonds redeemable at the pleasure
of the government, at any time after five years,
and payable twenty years from July 15, 1868, with
interest at 6 per cent. per annum, payable Semi-
annually in coin.” — During the month of July,
1862, gold was at a premium for legal tender notes
of from 10 to 15 per cent., and demand notes,
which were receivable for customs at a premium
of about 8 per cent. The subsidiary silver coin-
age authorized by the act of Feb. 21, 1852, was
about 7 per cent. less in intrinsic value than the
silver dollar, and this difference in weight was
authorized, so that it might be retained in the
country for purposes of change. This silver
TJNITED STATES NOTES. 979

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coin soon began to disappear. Considerable
amounts were hoarded in the north and south,
and larger amounts were exported to Canada and
South America; and a premium of from 10 to 12
per cent. was offered for small amounts by busi-
ness men who desired it for convenience in mak-
ing change. Many individuals as well as corpo-
rations issued small obligations, sučh as had been
issued in 1812 and 1837. Postage stamps were
used to a considerable extent for purposes of
‘change. The postmaster general, in his report of
December, 1862, says: “In the first quarter of the
current year ending Sept. 20, the number of
stamps issued to postmasters was one hundred and
four millions; there were calls for about two hun-
dred millions, which would have been nearly suf.
ficient to meet the usual demand for a year. This
extraordinary demand arose from the temporary
use of these stamps as a currency for the public
in lieu of the smaller denominations of specie,
and ceased with the introduction of the so-called
‘postal currency.’” — On July 17, 1862, an act
was passed which authorized the issue of “post-
age and other stamps of the United States”;
which were receivable in exchange for United
States notes, and in payment of all dues to the
United States, in sums of not less than five dollars.
Under this law, notes of the denominations of 5,
10, 25 and 50 cents were issued, and the denomina-
tions of 5 and 25 cents were printed on brown
tinted paper, with an engraved head of Jefferson,
which was the exact counterpart of that used on
the five-cent postage stamp. On the twenty-five-
cent note the head of Jefferson was five times
repeated. The ten-cent note was printed in green,
with the head of Washington, the counterpart of
that used on the ten-cent postage stamp. Upon
the fifty-cent note this vignette was five times
repeated. These notes were issued in the month
of August, 1862, and were termed “postage cur-
rency,” and continued in use until they were
replaced by the fractional currency authorized by
section four of the act of March 3, 1863. The
previous act prohibited private corporations, bank-
ing associations and individuals from issuing or
circulating notes for fractions of a dollar, and
imposed a penalty, upon conviction, of a fine not
exceeding five hundred dollars, and imprisonment
not exceeding six months. The law did not pro-
hibit the issue of fractional currency by cities, and
considerable amounts were placed in circulation
by various municipalities notwithstanding the fact
that in many of the states laws had been passed
in the year 1837, or prior thereto, prohibiting such
issues. – The amount of fractional currency was
limited to fifty millions of dollars, and denomina-
tions of from three cents to fifty cents were issued,
which were exchangeable for United States notes
in sums of not less than three dollars. On the
days on which this small currency was first issued
to the public, the offices of the assistant treasurer
in New York and in other cities were thronged
with long lines of people anxious to obtain this
paper currency to supply the deficiency caused
by the withdrawal of silver coin. On account of
the scarcity of one and two-dollar notes and of
fractional currency, whole sheets of these notes
when they were first issued were paid to the army,
and subsequently were so cut that four 25-cent
notes were used in place of a one-dollar note, and
four fifty-cent notes in place of a two-dollar note,
and in this form considerable amounts were paid
out. These notes were universally used for small
change in and out of the army. The total issue of
“ postage currency,” which commenced Aug. 21,
1862, and ceased May 27, 1863, was $20,215,635.
$4,282,082 was outstanding on June 1, 1883, of
which $1,028,332 was in denominations of five
cents; $1,243,974 in ten cents; $1,039,203 in
twenty-five cents; and $970,572 in denomina-
tions of fifty cents. The total amount of issues
and reissues under both acts, was $368,720,074.
They wore out rapidly and became ragged and
filthy, and were frequently returned for redemp-
tion. — The first issues under the act of March 3
commenced on Oct. 10, 1863, and ceased on Feb.
980
UNITED STATES NOTES.
15, 1876; and an act was passed on April 17, of
the same year, directing the secretary to replace
this circulation by the issue of subsidiary silver
coin. The fractional paper currency was issued
- in five different series. The highest amount out-
standing at any one time was less than fifty mill-
ions. The amount outstanding on February 1,
1884, was $15,363,184. A considerable amount is
still held by banks and bankers, which is grudg-
ingly paid out to those customers who desire it for
purposes of remittance by letter. The principal
portion of the amount outstanding will probably
never be presented for redemption. The propor-
tion of loss to the people from this fractional cur-
rency is vastly greater than that of any other kind
of circulation ever issued in this country, and
this loss, in a large measure, must be attributed to
the small value of the notes and the many casual-
ties of the war. The proportion of legal-tender
notes and national bank notes of the highest
amount outstanding at any one time, not pre-
sented for redemption in the course of twenty
years, is estimated at about 1% per cent. — Au-
thority was given by the second section of the
act of March 3, 1863, to issue 400 millions of treas-
ury notes; bearing interest at a rate not exceeding
6 per cent. in lawful money for a term not ex-
ceeding three years, payable at periods expressed
on their face, and in denominations of not less
than ten dollars. These notes were exchangeable,
together with the accumulated interest for treasury
notes not bearing interest. They were made legal
tender for their face value, excluding interest.
Power was also given to the secretary to issue 150
millions of additional greenbacks, which were to
be issued only in exchange for these interest-bear-
ing notes. Under this act, $44,520,000 notes
were issued, redeemable one year from date, and
$166,480,000 two years from date, bearing interest
at 5 per cent. per annum, which were known as
“one and two year notes of 1863.”— Authority.
was given by the act of June 30, 1864, for the
issue of 200 millions of treasury notes in denomi-
nations of not less than ten dollars, not exceeding
three years, and bearing interest not exceeding
7.30 per cent. per annum, interest payable semi-
annually, principal and interest to be paid in law-
ful money. The notes were to be a legal tender
for their face value. No seven-thirty notes
were issued under this act, but, in lieu thereof,
$266,595,440 of compound interest notes were is-
sued. The act did not authorize in terms the issue
of compound interest notes, but as the interest at 6
per cent. compounded, would be considerably less
than at 7.30 per cent. simple interest, their issue
was not in conflict with the terms of the act. The
notes were in the form shown on the opposite
page. Of these notes, $177,045,770 were issued in
redemption of the one and two year 5 per cent.
notes, and it is not probable that more than 200
millions of these notes were outstanding at any
one time. Secretary Fessenden, in his report for
Dec. 6, 1864, thus refers to the issue of these
notes: “The whole amount of national circula-
tion, not bearing interest, exclusive of fractional
currency, and of notes issued by national banks,
is limited to four hundred millions of dollars, sub-
ject to slight occasional increase from the fifty mill-
ions held in reserve for the payment of temporary
deposits. Of 5 per cent. interest-bearing notes.
there were outstanding, on the first of November
last, $120,519,110. To a considerable extent these
notes have been, and will continue to be, used as
currency. Those with coupons have been found
particularly objectionable, as, though withdrawn
to a certain extent while the interest is maturing,
they are liable to be periodically rushed upon the
market. In consideration of this feature, a large.
amount, viz., about ninety millions of the original
issue of one hundred and fifty millions of these
coupon notes, have been withdrawn and destroyed,
and their place occupied by notes payable in three
years, bearing interest at 6 per centum, compound-
ed semi-annually. This is believed to be the best
form of interest-bearing legal-tender notes, as be-
ing more likely to be withdrawn and held until
maturity, as an investment. Of these, fifteen
millions in amount were issued under the act of
March 3, 1863, and about ninety millions under
the act of June 30, 1864. The total amount of in-
terest-bearing notes outstanding on the 22d of No-
vember last, was $210,222,870. What proportion
of these may be considered as an addition to the
circulation I am unable to determine. To that
extent, whatever it may be, they contribute to the
amount of the currency, and thus in Some degree.
Occasion and in still greater degree sustain, an in-
crease of prices, and depress values.”— About two
years and eight months after the passage of the
last act, authority was given for the issue of tem-
porary loan 3 per cent. certificates, for the purpose
of retiring the compound interest notes. When
these notes were issued, it was expected that they
would, as the interest accumulated, soon pass out
of circulation into the hands of bankers and capi-
talists. These expectations were realized, for thc
interest was only payable at maturity three years.
from date. Such notes, with accrued interest,
would not be paid out by the holders except in
cases of absolute necessity. In order to insure
the retirement of these notes, “An act to provide
ways and means for the payment of compound
interest notes,” was passed on March 2, 1867. —
This act authorized the issue of 3 per cent. certifi-
cates in denominations of not less than $100, pay-
able on demand. The national banks were au-
thorized to hold these certificates as a part of
their reserve, provided that not less than two-
fifths of the entire reserve should consist of law-
ful money of the United States. This privilege
did not largely diminish the amount of gold coin
and greenbacks which the banks were required
continually to keep on hand, as most of the banks.
held a large amount of cash reserve, in addition
to the amount required by law. This excess could
with great profit beinvested in the new certificates,
and they could be used to advantage for clearing-
house purposes, and the banks at Once availed
UNITED STATES NOTES. 981
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On the reverse of these notes, the following table, showing the rates of interest which would accumulate upon the notes,
was printed for the convenience of the holder :
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themselves of this privilege. The amount au-
thorized by this act was fifty millions, which was
increased to seventy-five millions by the act of
July 25, 1868. These certificates were payable
on demand, and redeemable at the pleasure of the
government: they were chiefly issued during the
fiscal year 1868 and 1869, and for the most part
retired in the fiscal years from 1869 to 1873–
$12,195,000 being retired during the latter year.
— The act of July 12, 1870, authorized the issue
of $54,000,000, additional bank circulation, and
Section two of that act provided, that at the end of
each month after the passage of this act the comp-
troller of the currency should report the amount of
Such circulating notes issued, whereupon the sec-
retary of the treasury should redeem and cancel a
like amount of 3 per cent. certificates; and in order
to retire such certificates he may give notice to the
holders of said certificates, designating the num-
ber, date and amount, that they shall cease to bear
interest from and after a certain day designated,
and that the certificates so designated shall cease to
be available for any portion of the reserve. Thus
it will be seen that the compound interest notes
were issued for the purpose of retiring 5 per cent.
notes, the 3 per cent. certificates for the retirement
of the compounds which were maturing, and the
act of July 12, 1870, in turn for the retirement of
the 3 per cents, and these different acts had the
effect of rapidly accomplishing these results, with
but little inconvenience either to the banks or to
the public. — The act of March 3, 1863, authorized
the issue of gold certificates, of one and two-year
notes, and of compound interest notes; and certifi-
cates under the fifth section of that act were used
for clearing-house purposes soon after the passage
of the national bank act. They were authorized to
be issued in sums of not less than $20, correspond-
ing with the denomination of United States notes.
The coin and bullion deposited were required to
982
UNITED STATES NOTES.
be retained in the treasury for the payment of
the same on demand. Certificates representing
coin in the treasury were authorized to be issued
in payment of interest on the public debt, but it
was provided that the amount of certificates is-
sued should not, at any one time, exceed 20 per
centum beyond the amount of coin and bullion
in the treasury. These certificates were author-
ized to be received at par in payment of duties.
The first issue was made on Nov. 13, 1865. On
June 30, 1875, there were outstanding $21,796,300,
of which the national banks in New York city
held $12,642,180. Their issue was discontinued
on Dec. 1, 1878, just previous to the resumption
of specie payment, and the amount Outstanding
had decreascd on June 30, 1879, to $15,413,700.
The amount outstanding on Oct. 3, 1883, was
$4,907,440, of which the national banks held
$4,594,300. On Jan. 1, 1883, the amount out-
standing was $3,568,840. Most of these certifi-
cates were issued for clearing-house purposes, in
denominations of $1,000, $5,000 and $10,000. —
On June 8, 1872, an act was passed authorizing
the secretary of the treasury to receive United
States notes on deposit without interest from na-
tional bank associations, in sums not less than
$10,000, and issue certificates therefor, of denom-
inations not less than $5,000. These certificates
were similar to the 3 per cent. certificates just re-
ferred to, except that, they bore no interest, and
were largely used in place thereof for clearing-
house purposes. The certificates were payable on
demand in United States notes at the place of issue,
and they were authorized to be held and counted
by national banks as part of their legal reserve, and
to be used in settlement of clearing-house balances.
These certificates were not properly treasury notes,
and the highest amount issued was $64,780,000, on
Aug. 3, 1875, which amount was rapidly reduced
after the resumption of specie payments. On.
June 30, 1875, there were outstanding $59,045,000,
of which the national banks held $47,310,000.
On June 30, 1876, the amount outstanding was.
$33,140,000, of which the banks held $27,955.
The amount outstanding on June 1, 1883, was.
$11,805,000, of which the banks held, on May 1,
$8,420,000. — The act of Feb. 26, 1879, authorized
the issue of 4 per cent. certificates, of the denomi-
nation of $10, which were convertible at any time,
with accrued interest, into the 4 per cent. bonds au-
thorized to be issued July 14, 1870. This act was.
passed for the purpose of facilitating the refund-
ing of 5 and 6 per cent. bonds then falling due
into 4 per cents, but the act was really unneces-
sary, for about the time the certificates began to
be issued, the 4 per cent. bonds were above par in
the market. Long lines of people gathered at the
different government depositories where the cer-
tificates were offered, and the amount was taken
as fast as they could be furnished. $40,012,750.
were disposed of at par, of which $39,398,110.
were issued during the fourth quarter of the fiscal
year 1879, and the amount outstanding on June
1, 1883, was $358,000. — The following table ex.
hibits the amount of treasury notes of the differ-
ent forms issued during the late civil war, out-
standing on June 1, 1883, interest upon all of
which has long since ceased :

NOTES. Act. Rafe of Interest. Intorest Coagcd. Trincipal. Iliterest.
Treasury notes of 1861------------ Mar. 2, 1861. 6 per cent. March 3, 1863. $ 3,000 || $ 364.50
Demand notes------------------ } #. #. #. } No interest. -------------------------------- 59,010 |----------
7-80's of 1861---------------------- } § # 2 #. 7 3-10 per cent. Aug. 19 and Oct. 1, 1864. 16,250 | 1,091.55
uly 17, 1862.
Fractional Currency------------- } Mar. 3, 1863. | No interest. -------------------------------- 15,379,532 ||----------
wº June 30, 1864. i
1 year notes of 1863--------------- Mar. 3, 1863. 5 per cent. Various dates in 1865. 40,825 2,053.35
2 year notes of 1863--------------- Mar. 3, 1863. 5 per cent. Various dates in 1866. 31,100 | 1,472.47
Compound interest notes------- }|}|...}}#}|6 per cent. June 10, 1867, and May 15, 1868. 214,670 || 48,918.61
7-30's of 1864 and 1865 --------- }|{º}; }|78:10percent. Aug. 15, 1867, and July 15, 1868. 137,650 | 19,951.80
3 per cent. Certificates---------- } #: sº } 3 per cent. |Feb. 28, 1873. 5,000 || 394.31
Legal tender certificates ---------. June 8, 1873, ' | No interest. -------------------------------- 11,805,000 ||----------
Gold certificates ------------------ Mar. 3, 1863. | No interest. -------------------------------. 3,568,840 - - - - - - - - - -
—“An act to authorize the issue of United States
notes, and for the redemption or funding thereof,
and for refunding the floating debt of the United
States,” which was signed by President Lincoln
on Feb. 25, 1862, is the first law ever placed upon
the statute books making treasury notes, or any-
thing but gold and silver coin, a tender in pay-
ment of debts. Indeed, it may be said that neither
the congress of the United States nor the conti-
mental congress, which preceded it, issued any
form of legal tender treasury notes. The conti-
mental congress had no power to enact such a law.
It did, however, pass a resolution, on Jan. 4, 1777,
recommending to the legislatures of the different
states to pass laws making the bills of Credit issued
by congress a lawful tender in payment of public
and private debts, and a refusal thereof an extin-
guishment of such debts; that debts payable in
sterling money be discharged in continental dollars.
at the rate of 43.6 sterling per dollar; and that in
the discharge of all other debts and contracts, con-
tinental dollars shall pass at the rate fixed by the re-
spective states for the value of Spanish milled dol-
lars. In accordance with the recommendation con-
tained in these resolutions, continental money was
made a legal tender in Connecticut, Massachusetts,
|UNITED STATES NOTES.
983
Rhode Island and New Jersey in 1776, and in
Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland and Virginia
in 1777. —The legal-tender act was passed during
the second session of the 32d congress, which met
Dec. 2, 1861. The report of the secretary of the
treasury bears date Dec. 9. The third installment
of fifty millions, of the loan of 150 millions already
referred to, had been negotiated on the 16th of
November previous, with the associated banks.
The secretary was hopeful that the war would be
brought to an auspicious termination before mid-
Summer, but at the same time submitted estimates
based upon its continuance. In this event, it was
estimated that the public debt, which, on July 1,
1861, was $90,867,828, would be, on July 1, 1862,
517 millions, and on July 1 of the following year,
897 millions. He recommended the issue of cir-
culating notes in place of the existing bank note
circulation, which depended ‘‘ on the laws of
thirty-four states, and the character of some six-
teen hundred private corporations.” Two plans
for effecting this object were suggested : the first
was the withdrawal of the bank circulation, and
the issue of United States notes instead thereof,
payable in coin on demand; the second contem-
plated the delivery to banks of notes prepared for
circulation under national direction, and to se-
cure prompt convertibility into coin by the pledge
of United States bonds, and other needful reg-
ulations. Both of these plans were discussed at
considerable length in the report, the preference of
the secretary being decidedly in favor of the is-
Sue of bank notes. The avails of the large loans
made from the banks were not allowed to remain
on deposit, to be drawn by checks as the necessi-
ties of the government should require, but were,
from time to time, paid into the treasury, so that
it was quite difficult for some of the banks to
meet the last installment. The banks were in dan-
ger of suspending specie payment at the time of
the meeting of congress. Suspension finally took
place on Dec. 28, 1861, and two days later, on the
30th, Mr. Spaulding, of the subcommittee of the
committee of ways and means, introduced the
legal-tender bill. — A national bank bill had been
prepared previously, and when nearly completed,
Mr. Hooper, of Massachusetts, also of the sub-
committee, incorporated in it several provisions
contained in a recent free banking bill, which had
passed the legislature of his own state. Two hun-
dred copies of this bill, which was hastily prepared
late in the month of December, were printed for
the use of the committee of ways and means, and
a copy of this bill, which was the basis of the
national bank act which became a law about a
year afterward, is in the possession of the writer
of this article. It being evident that the bank bill
would encounter considerable opposition from the
friends of banks organized under state laws, and
that great delay would necessarily occur from the
consideration of an elaborate bank bill of sixty or
more sections, arranged for the organization of
banks in the different states of the Union, the bill
was laid aside, and the bill authorizing the issue of
legal-tender notes was considered. An informal
letter was read to the committee from Attorney
General Bates, in which he gave it as his opinion
that congress had not only the right to issue such
bills of credit, but also to make them a legal tender.
Discussion of the bill continued for several days,
and, upon a vote being taken, it was found that the
committee was equally divided, but by the change
of a vote it was finally reported to the house on
July 7, 1862, and published in the leading New
York newspapers, only two of which were favor-
able to the measure. Delegates from ten of the
principal banks in the three leading cities ap-
peared in Washington and opposed the bill. The
bill was afterward submitted to the secretary of the
Treasury by the committee, and, upon its return
with his suggestions, was reported to the house on
Jan. 22, 1862, with the title above given, as a
substitute for the previous bill. The bill passed
the house on Feb. 6, 1862, by a vote of 93 to 59.
The vote to strike out the legal-tender clause was
lost in the senate by 17 yeas to 22 nays, and the
bill passed by a vote of 30 to 7. The chief amend-
ments in the senate were: requiring payment of
interest semi-annually in coin on bonds and seven-
thirty notes; conferring on the secretary power to
sell 6 per cent. bonds at the market value thereof
for coin; making the bonds redeemable in five
years and payable in twenty years from date at
the option of the government, and authorizing
temporary deposits in the treasury at 6 per cent.
— There was considerable debate in both houses
upon the question of the right of the government
to issue demand notes, and the arguments were
not unlike those which have already been given
in previous debates in congress. The principal
discussion was, however, upon the constitutional
right of congress to issue legal-tender notes. On
the 20th the amendments were returned to the
senate with the con&urrence of the house in part
of them, and non-concurrence in others, and with
some amendments to the senate amendments, after
which a conference committee was appointed in
the house and senate, which committee had a long
consultation extending through two or three days.
The report of the conference committee was
agreed to on the 24th in the house by yeas 97,
nays 22, and in the senate on the 25th without a
division, and on the same day the bill was ap-
proved by the president. It authorized the issue
of 150 millions of United States notes, not bear-
ing interest, payable to bearer at the treasury of
the United States, and of denominations of not
less than $5, fifty millions of which were to be in
lieu of the demand treasury notes which had
been previously issued; they were similar in form
to those notes, but they were not receivable in
payment of duties on imports, and were not pay-
able by the government for interest upon its obli-
gations, which were payable in coin; they were to
be a legal tender in payment of all other debts,
public and private, within the United States.
They differed from the first notes issued also, and
in this respect, that all holders of legal-tender
984
UNITED STATES NOTES.
notes were authorized to deposit any sum not less
than $50, or any multiple of $50, with the treas-
urer, or either of the assistant treasurers, and re-
ceive duplicate certificates, upon which were to
be issued to the holder an equal amount of bonds
of the United States bearing interest at the rate
of 6 per centum per annum, payable semi-annu-
ally, and redeemable at the pleasure of the Unit-
ed States after five years, and payable twenty
years from the date thereof. The second section
of the same act authorizes the issue of 500 mill-
ions of five-twenty bonds into which the treasury
notes were to be funded, in accordance with the
previous section and as stated in the title of the bill.
The first notes issued were of the date of March
10, 1862, and there was printed upon the back
the following words: “This note is a legal tender
for all debts, public and private, except duties on
imports and interest on the public debt, and is ex-
changeable for United States 6 per cent. bonds re-
deemable at the pleasure of the United States
after five years.”— On June 7, 1862, the secreta-
ry addressed letters to the chairman of the com-
mittee of ways and means of the house and the
finance committee of the senate, recommending a
further issue of 150 millions of dollars of legal-
tender notes. He said that nearly the whole issue
of sixty millions in demand notes was held by bank-
ers and by capitalists, and was at a premium of
# to 14 per cent. on account of its availability for
the payment of duties; so that there was really
only about ninety millions of United States notes in
circulation. He said that the United States notes
are maintained at near par in gold by the provision
for their conversion into bonds bearing 6 per cent.
interest payable in coin, and that resumption would
be more easily effected “if the currency—small as
well as large—were of United States notes, than if
the channels of circulation be left to be filled up
by the emissions of non-specie paying corpora-
tions, solvent and insolvent.” With these letters
he transmitted bills for the consideration of these
committees. The immediate necessities of the
government admitted of but little delay, and the
bill, substantially as recommended by the secre-
tary, passed both houses, and was signed by the
president on June 11, 1862. The bill authorized
the issue of 150 millions of legal-tender notes,
thirty-five millions of which were to be in denom-
inations less than $5. The subsequent act of
March 3, 1863, authorized the issue of an addi-
tional 150 millions, making the aggregate author.
ized issue of legal-tender notes 450 millions of dol-
lars. This act was similar to the previous legal-
tender acts, so far as the issue of treasury notes
was concerned, except that it provided “that the
holders of United States notes issued under former
acts shall present the same for the purpose of ex-
changing them for bonds as therein provided on
or before July 1, 1863, and thereupon the right
to exchange the same shall cease and determine.”
— After the passage of the act of March 3, 1863,
the secretary decided to commence the negotiation
of 5 per cent, ten-forty bonds, and gave notice
that he should decline to allow the holders of
legal tenders to fund such notes in bonds bear-
ing a greater rate of interest than 5 per cent. after
July 1, 1863. The negotiation of the 5 per cents
was not successful at that time, and that portion
of the act of March 3 which repealed the right to
fund legal tenders into five-twenties, as printed up-
On the back of the notes, was not only a violation
Of the contract with the holder, but also a serious
financial mistake. It had the effect to materially
reduce the value of the treasury notes in the mar-
ket, prevented for a time the further funding of
treasury notes after July 1, and undoubtedly post-
poned for many months the date for the resump-
tion of specie payment. — The highest amount of
legal-tender notes Outstanding at any time was
On Jan. 3, 1864, when the amount reached
$449,338,902. The second section of the act of
June 30, 1864, provided that “the total amount
of United States notes issued or to be issued shall
not exceed 400 millions, and such additional sum,
not exceeding fifty millions, as may be tempora-
rily required for the redemption of temporary
loans.” The following table shows by denomina-
tions the amount of legal-tender notes outstand-
ing on June 1, 1883: -
Ones ---------------------------------------- $27,585,368.80
TWOS---------------------------------------- 25,808,502.20
Fives---------------------------------------- 71,677,845.00
Tens ---------------------------------------- 73,465,906.00
Twenties ------------------------------------ 63,266,909.00
Fifties -------------------------------------- 23,708,395.00
One hundreds -------------------------------
Five hundreds-------------------------------
One thousands ------------------------------
34,348,090.00
14,862,500 00
12,457,500.00
Five thousands------------------------------ 330,000.00
Ten thousands ------------------------------ 170,000.00
Destroyed in the Chicago fire---------------- —1,000,000.00
Total --------- --~~~~ $346,681,016.00
— Secretary McCulloch, in his report for 1865,
expressed the opinion, that the legal-tender acts
were war measures, and ought not to remain in
force one day longer than should be necessary to
enable the people to prepare for a return to the gold
standard. The house of representatives during the
same month passed a resolution, by a vote of 144
yeas to 6 nays, “cordially concurring in the views
of the secretary of the treasury in relation to the
necessity of the contraction of the currency with
a view to as early a resumption of specie pay-
ment as the business interests of the country will
permit.” In order to carry into effect this resolu-
tion, congress, by an act approved March 12,
1866, authorized the retiring and cancellation of
not more than ten millions of legal-tender notes
within six months from the passage of the act,
and thereafter not more than four millions in any
one month. Under this act, the amount Outstand-
ing was so far reduced, that on Dec. 31, 1867, the
amount was 356 millions. On Feb. 4, 1868, the
further reduction of the volume of Such notes
was prohibited, leaving the last-named amount
outstanding until Oct. 1, 1872. Between that date
and Jan. 15, 1874, under Secretaries Boutwell
and Richardson, the amount was increased to
UNITED STATES NOTES.
985
$382,979,815, and on June 20, 1874, the maxi-
mum amount was fixed at $382,000,000; section
six of the act of that date providing that “the
amount of United States notes outstanding and to
be used as a part of the circulating medium shall
not exceed the sum of 382 millions, which said
Sum shall appear in each monthly statement of
the public debt, and no part thereof shall be held
or used as a reserve.” — Section three of the act
of Jan. 14, 1875, authorized an increase of the
circulation of national banks in accordance with
existing law, without respect to the limit previ-
ously existing, but required the secretary of the
treasury to retire legal-tender notes to an amount
equal to 80 per cent. of the national bank notes
thereafter issued, until the amount of such legal-
tender notes outstanding should be 300 millions,
and no more. Under the operation of this act
$35,318,984 of legal-tender notes were retired,
leaving the amount in circulation on May 31, 1878,
the date of the repeal of the act, $346,681,016,
which is the amount now outstanding. — The fol-
lowing table exhibits the amount of the various
issues of treasury notes outstanding on July 1 of
each year from 1862 to 1883; together with the
amount of national bank notes and the value of
the legal-tender treasury note as compared with
coin for the same dates:


: Value of
* * Demand Legal Tender - on N Fractional Q}}º ºngº. W9 National ||Paper Polº
YEAR ENDING, J ULY 1. Notes. Notes. 7–30 Notes. Currency. Y ºtes Bank Notes. #: §
Join.
1808--------------------- $53,040,000 || $ 96,620,000 || $122,582,485 |--------------|--------------|-------------- $0.86.6
1808--------------------- 3,351,019 297,767,114 139,974,435 $20,192,456 $89,879,475 -------------- . 76.6
#--------------------- 780,999 || 431,178,670 | 139,286,935 | 22,894,877 | 153,471,450 $31,235,270 .38.7
1805--------------------- 472,603 || 432,687,966 671,610,397 || 25,005,829 || 42,338,710 || 146,137,860 .70.4
1806--------------------- 272,162 400,619,206 || 830,000 000 || 27,070,877 3,454,230 281,479,908 .66.0
1867--------------------- 208,432 371,783,597 || 813,460,622 28,307,524 1,123,630 || 298,625,379 .71.7
1808--------------------- 141,723 356,000,000 488,344,847 32,626,952 555,492 299,762,855 .70.1
1869-------------------- 123,739 356,000,000 37,397,197. 32,114,637 347,772 299,929,624 .73 5
1870--------------------- 106.256 356,000,000 661,000 39,878,684 248,27 299,766,984 .85.6
1871--------------------- 96,505 || 356,000,000 75,900 40,582,875 198,572 318,261,241 .89.0
1873--------------------- 88,296 357,500,000 352,150 40,855.835 167,522 337,664,795 .87.5
1873--------------------- 79,967 356,000,000 293,450 44,799,365 142,105 347,267,061 .86.4
1874--------------------- 76,732 382,000,000 247,650 45,881.296 127,625 351,981,032 .91.0
1875--------------------- 70,107 375,771,580 213,900 42,129 424 113,375 354,408,008 .87.2
1870--------------------- 66,917 | 369,772,284 200,850 | 34,446,595 104,705 || 332,998,336 .89.5
1877--------------------- 63,962 || 359,764,332 181,400 20,403,137 95,725 317,048,872 .94.7
1878--------------------. 62,297 346,681,016 173,950 16,547,769 90,485 324,514,284 .99.4
1879--------------------- 61,470 346,681,016 164,150 15,842,606 86,185 329,691,697 1.00.0
1880--------------------- 60,975 346,681,016 161,500 15,590,888 82,485 || 344,505,427 | 1.00.0
1881-------------------- 60,535 | 346,681,016 158,450 15,481,887 79,985 | 355,042,675 | 1.00.0
1883--------------------- 59,695 || 346,681,016 155,250 | 15,423,182 74,965 358,742,034 | 1.00.0
1883--------------------- 58,985 346,681,016 153,400 | 15,376,624 71,765 | 356,815,510 | 1.00.0
—The act of Jan. 14, 1875, required the secretary
of the treasury, on and after Jan. 1, 1879, to re-
deem in coin the legal-tender notes on their pre-
sentation at the Office of the assistant treasurer in
the city of New York, in sums of not less than
$50. In order that he might always be prepared
to do this, he was authorized “to use any surplus
revenue from time to time in the treasury not
otherwise appropriated, and to issue, sell and dis-
pose of at not less that par in coin any of the 5,
4; and 4 per cent. bonds authorized by the act of
July 14, 1870. Under this act Secretary Sherman,
in 1877, sold at par in coin fifteen millions of 4}
per cents, and twenty-five millions of 4's; and in
April, 1878, he sold fifty millions of 43 per cents
at a premium of 1% per cent. This coin was
placed in the treasury for purposes of resump-
tion, and on Jan. 1, 1879, the secretary held
135 millions of gold coin and bullion, and, in ad-
dition, over thirty-two millions in silver coin and
bullion; the goid coin alone being nearly equal to
40 per cent. of the United States notes then out-
standing. — The assistant treasurer of the United
States, at New York, became a member of the
clearing house, thus facilitating the business of
the banks with the government. The banks in
New York strengthened the hands of the govern-
ment by agreeing to receive United States notes,
not only for their ordinary balances, but in pay-
ment of the interest upon the public debt, and of
other coin obligations of the government. The
banks of the country, at the date of resumption,
held more than one-third of the outstanding treas:
ury notes, but they had so much confidence in the
ability of the secretary to maintain resumption
that none were presented by them for redemption.
The people preferred the issues of national banks
and of the government to coin itself. There was,
therefore, no demand for payment of the notes of
the government, and the gold coin in the treasury,
which amounted to 135 millions on the day of re-
Sumption, increased more than thirty-six millions
in the next ten months. The amount held on Nov.
1, 1879, exceeded 171 millions, and on Nov. 1,
1883, 209 millions. The resumption act is still in
force, and gives the secretary unlimited power,
with which to provide for the redemption in coin
of the legal-tender notes. He is thus enabled, so
long as the credit of the government continues
good, to check, by the sale of United States bonds,
any exportation of coin which might endanger
the redemption of United States legal-tender notes.
—From the date of the passage of the act of April
12, 1866, which authorized a reduction of the
amount of legal-tender notes, to the passage of the
act of July 12, 1882, enabling national banking
986
UNITED STATES NOTES.
associations to extend their corporate existence, a
period of more than sixteen years, hundreds of bills
of almost every conceivable form to regulate the
currency were introduced in congress. Through-
out the country the subject was continually dis-
cussed, not only during political campaigns and
at public conventions, but in the smaller gather-
ings of the school district and the meetings of in-
dividuals by the way side. Speeches and politi-
cal pamphlets by the thousand, essays, campaign
papers innumerable, and caricatures of almost ev-
ery kind and description, upon the subject of the
expansion and contraction of the currency, and its
effect upon business, were distributed broadcast in
all directions. Perhaps the most plausible argu-
ment which was presented over and over again in
every portion of the country during these contin-
ued discussions, was in reference to the retirement
of the national bank notes, and the substitution
thereof of treasury notes, in order, as was claimed,
to save to the government the interest upon the
bonds held by the national banks, as security for
their circulating notes. Discussions of this subject
in its various forms, and statements of the profits
of the circulation of the national banks at different
dates, may be found in the reports of the comp-
troller of the currency during the last nine years.—
The agf of Feb. 28, 1878, authorized any holder of
silver dollars of the weight of 412; grains troy of
standard silver, to deposit the same with the treas-
urer, or any assistant treasurer, of the United
States, in sums not less than ten dollars, and receive
therefor certificates of not less than ten dollars,
each corresponding with the denominations of the
United States notes. It required that the coin de-
posited or representing the certificates should be
retained in the treasury for the payment of the same
on demand, and that said certificates should be re-
ceivable for customs, taxes and all public dues, and
also authorized their reissue. This act did not au-
thorize their use as clearing house certificates, nor
make them available as reserve for the national
banks. – The act of July 12, 1882, authorizcd and
directed the secretary of the treasury to receive de-
posits of gold coin in denominations of not less
than $20 each, corresponding with the denomina-
tions of United States notes. The coin deposited
for the certificates is required to be retained for
the payment of the same on demand, and these
certificates, and also silver certificates, are author-
ized to be counted as part of the lawful reserve of
the national banks. The act also provides that no
national banking association shall be a member of
any clearing house in which such certificates shall
not be receivable in the settlement of clearing
house balances.
. - Silver
YEARS. Coinage, Amount in ertificat
g Treasury. 8:::::::::::
1878 ---------------- $ 8,573,500 || $ 7,718,357 $ 1,850,410
1879 ---------------- 35,801,000 || 28,358,589 2,539,950
1880 ---------------- 63,734,750 45,108,296 12,374,270
1881 ---------------- 91,372,705 63,249,300 51,166.530
1889 ---------------- 119,144,780 87,524,182 66,096,710
1888---------------- 147,255,899 || 111,914,019 88,616,831
— The preceding table shows the amount of
standard silver dollars coined under the act of Feb.
28, 1878, which authorized the same, the amount,
in the treasury and the amount of silver certifi-
cates issued on July 1, from 1878 to 1883 inclusive.
— The amount of gold certificates which had been
issued under the act of July 12, 1882, was, on Nov.
1, $21,790,000, and on Jan. 1, 1884, $87,874,500.—
AUTHORITIES. American State Papers, Annals.
of Congress, Madison Papers; Elliot’s Debates;
Congressional Globe, National Loans of the United
States, by R. A. Bayley; Finance Reports; Annual
Cyclopædia ; Harper's Magazine ; Hunt's Mer-
chants’ Magazine, New York; Bankers’ Magazine,
New York; Schuckers' Life of Chase, Spaulding's
History of Legal-Tender Money; New York, News-
papers, 1861–2–3. JOHN JAY KNOX.
UNITED STATES NOTES. Legal-Tender
Cases—Decisions of the Supreme Court of the
United States. On April 30, 1866, the legisla-
ture of New York provided by law for refunding
to the banks and other corporations in like condi-
tion, the taxes of 1863 and 1864 collected upon
that part of their capital invested in securities of
the United States exempt by law from taxation.
The board of supervisors of the county of New
York was charged with the duty of auditing and
allowing, with the approval of the mayor of the
city and the corporation counsel, the amount col-
lected from each corporation for taxes on the ex-
empt portion of its capital, together with costs,
damages and interest. This act was passed in
conformity with the decision of the United States.
supreme court in the Bank Tax Case (reported in
2d Wallace, 200), which decided that a tax on the
obligations of the United States by state authority
was void. The bank of New York presented a
claim to the said board of supervisors for the re-
funding of those taxes which the bank had paid
on the United States notes, commonly called
“greenbacks,” during the years aforesaid. The
board refused the application on the ground that
“greenbacks” were not “securities” of the
United States government, but were practically
and in effect “money,” taxable as cash. The
court of appeals of the state of New York sus-
tained the action of the board, but on appeal to
the United States supreme court (Bank vs. The
Supervisors, 7 Wallace, 26), that court, at its
December term, 1868, reversed the opinion of the
state court. The court said : “The act of Febru-
ary, 1862, declares that “All United States bonds.
and other securities of the United States held by
individuals, associations or corporations within
the United States, shall be exempt from taxation.
by or under state authority.” We have already
said that these notes are obligations. They bind
the national faith. They are, therefore, strictly
securities. They secure the payment stipulated to
the holders by the pledge of the national faith, the
only ultimate security of all national obligations,
whatever form they may assume.” — On June 20,
1860, a certain Mrs. Hepburn made a promissory
UNITED STATES NOTES.
987
note, by which she promised to pay to Henry
Griswold on Feb. 20, 1862, eleven thousand two
hundred and fifty “ dollars.” At the time when
the note was made, and also at the time when it fell
due, there was, confessedly, no lawful money of the
United States, or money which could be lawfully
tendered in payment of private debts, but gold
and silver coin.
note by its terms fell due, that is to say, on Feb.
25, 1862, congress passed the first legal tender act,
commonly so called, by which the United States
notes issued thereunder were made a legal tender
for “all debts, public and private, within the
United States,” except certain public debts. In
March, 1864, Mrs. Hepburn tendered payment of
the debt, principal and interest, in the United
States notes issued under this act. The amount
tendered, $11,250 in legal-tender notes, at that
time was worth only about $7,000 in coin. The
tender was refused. She was sued in the Louis-
ville chancery court in the state of Kentucky. She
tendered and paid the same money into court. It
was declared by the chancellor to be a satisfaction
of the debt. The case was appealed to the court
of errors of Kentucky. That court reversed the
chancellor’s decision, and Ordered a contrary judg-
ment to be entered. Whereupon Mrs. Hepburn
took the case to the United States Supreme court,
where it was argued by very numerous and able
counsel at the December term, 1868, but not
decided until the December term, 1869. (Hepburn
os. Griswold, 8 Wallace, 603.) The court was
comprised of Mr. Chief Justice Chase, and Asso-
ciate Justices Nelson, Clifford, Field, Grier, Davis,
Miller and Swayne. Mr. Justice Grier resigned
before the opinion of the court was announced,
but agreed with the majority in the consultation
room, as was announced by the chief justice. The
chief justice delivered the opinion of the court. In
this opinion Justices Nelson, Clifford and Field
concurred. The court held that the language of the
act of Feb. 25, 1862, making the United States
notes issued thereunder “a legal tender in pay-
ment of all debts, public and private, within the
United States,” included pre-existing debts as well
as debts which should be incurred after the pass-
age of the act, and while it might be an exercise
of rightful power in congress under those powers
granted it by the constitution to declare war, Sup-
press insurrection, raise and support armies and
navies, borrow money on the credit of the United
States to pay the debts of the Union, and to pro-
vide for the common defense and general welfare,
to emit bills of credit or United States notes in-
tended to circulate as money, and make the same
legal tender for debts to be incurred after the pass-
age of the act, yet inasmuch, as the act by con-
struction declared these notes to be legal tender
in payment of pre-existing debts, that the act
was inconsistent with the spirit of the constitu-
tion, and was not a law “necessary and proper”
for carrying into execution the powers vested by
the constitution in congress or in the government
of the United States. The constitution reads that
Five days after the day when the
congress shall have, besides certain powers granted
in express terms, ‘‘power to make all laws which
shall be necessary and proper for carrying into ex-
ecution the foregoing powers, and all other powers.
vested by this constitution in the government of
the United States or in any department or offices
thereof.” The court held that the legal-tender
clause was unnecessary and improper. That the
notes would have maintained themselves equally
well without it. The chief justice quoted the
fact that the three hundred million of dollars in
notes issued by the national banking associations.
under the act of February, 1863, and the fifty
millions of fractional currency issued under the
act of March, 1863, were not made a legal tender,
and argued that it was the quality of receivability
for public dues, and not the quality of legal tender,
which made these United States notes circulate as:
freely as they did. The chief justice declared
that the act was obnoxious to those clauses of the
constitution, also, which forbade the impairment
of the obligations of contracts, the taking of
private property for public use without compen-
sation, and the deprivation of any person of his.
property without due process of law. And that
the constitution was ordained to “establish jus-
tice,” which this act did not do, so far as regards
pre-existing debts. For all of which reasons elab-
orately stated, the court held the act unconstitu-
tional and therefore void. Mr. Justice Miller,
with whom concurred Justices Davis and Swayne,
delivered a dissenting opinion. He held that
what was “necessary and proper” to carry into
execution the powers vested by the constitution in
the government of the United States, can not
rightfully be construed to mean only such legisla-
tion as is indispensably necessary, but that Con-
gress has the choice of means, and is empowered
to use any means, which are, in fact, conducive
to the exercise of the power granted or calculated
to produce the end desired. He fortified this posi-
tion by the clear, strong decisions of the court de-
livered by Chief Justice Marshall, who announced
this exposition of the constitution in United States.
vs. Fisher, 2 Cranch, 358, and in McCulloch vs.
The State of Maryland, 4 Wheaton, 316. He
further said, that, while the constitution forbade
any state from impairing the obligation of a Con-
tract, it said nothing about the power of Congress.
in the premises. And that the provision that
private property should not be taken for public
use without due compensation, nor any person be
deprived of his property without due course of
law, had no application to the indirect effect of
great public measures whereby lands, stocks, con-
tracts etc., might depreciate in value, because, for
instance, such an effect would doubtless succeed
an immediate abolition of the tariff on iron by
depreciating the value of furnaces and the capital
employed in its manufacture, and yet no one
would claim that such a repeal was therefore un-
constitutional and void. That the whole argu-
ment of the injustice of the law and of its being
opposed to the spirit of the constitution, was too.
'988
UNITED STATES NOTES.
abstract and intangible for application to courts of
justice. That the act was passed to save the life
of the government, to pay its soldiers and sailors
and other public debts. That the legal-tender
clause was considered “necessary and proper” by
congress, and that the courts had no right to in-
terfere with that discretion. “It would author-
ize this court to enforce theoretical views of the
genius of the government, or vague notions of
the spirit of the constitution and of abstract jus-
tice, by declaring void laws which did not square
with those views. It substitutes our ideas of
policy for judicial construction, an undefined code
of ethics for the constitution, and a court of jus-
tice for the national legislature.” — One Parker
(Legal Tender Cases, 12 Wallace, 457) was under
contract to convey a lot of land to one Davis, up-
on payment of a certain sum of money. The
contract antedated, and suit was brought on the
same before, the passage of any of the legal-tender
acts. After the passage, to wit, in February,
1867, the supreme court of Massachusetts decreed
that Davis should pay into court a certain sum
of money, and that Parker should thereupon ex-
ecute a deed to him for the land in question.
Davis accordingly paid into court the given sum
in United States notes. Parker refused to ex-
ecute the deed on the ground that he was enti-
tled to coln ; whereupon the court changed the
decree, and ordered that Parker should execute
the deed upon payment by Davis into court of
the specific sum in United States notes. From
that decree the case was appealed to the United
States supreme court. The case was argued at
its December term, 1870, and on Jan. 15, 1872,
the opinion of the court was delivered by Justice
Strong, who, with Justice Bradley, had been add-
ed to the court in 1870 by President Grant, mak-
ing a full bench of nine. The other justices were
the same that sat in the case of Hepburn vs.
Griswold. The court overruled the latter case
and held the legal-tender acts to be constitution-
al as respects contracts made hefore their enact-
ment as well as after. The Court said, in refer-
ence to the case of Hepburn vs. Griswold: “That
case was decided by a divided court and by a
court having a less number of judges than the
law, then in existence provided this court shall
have. These cases have been heard before a full
court, and they have received our most careful
consideration.” And Mr. Justice Bradley, in his
separate concurring opinion said: “And in this
case, with all deference and respect for the former
judgment of the court, I am so fully convinced that
it was erroneous and prejudicial to the rights, inter-
'est and Safety of the general government, that I,
for one, have no hesitation in reviewing and over-
ruling it. It should be remembered that this court,
at the very term in which, and within a few weeks
after, the decision in Hepburn vs. Griswold was
delivered, when the vacancies on the bench were
filled, determined to hear the question reargued.
This fact must necessarily have had the effect of
apprising the country that the decision was not
fully acquiesced in, and of obviating any injuri-
ous consequences to the business of the country
by its reversal.” Justice Strong, in delivering the
opinion of the court, reiterated and enforced the
arguments made by the minority in Hepburn vs.
Griswold. He held that the distinction made by
the chief justice in regard to the constitutional
validity of the act as to debts contracted after its
passage and debts contracted before, was not well
founded, and that the fundamental question was,
Can congress constitutionally give to United States
notes the character and quality of money?. If
they can, then such notes can be made legally
available to fulfill all contracts solvable in money,
without reference to the time when such contracts
were made, unless expressly otherwise provided.
“What we do assert is, that congress has power
to enact that the government's promises to pay
money shall be, for the time being, equivalent in
value to the representative of value determined
by the coinage acts, or to multiples thereof.” And
that, therefore, all contracts calling for “dollars”
simply can be legally fulfilled by a tender of the
government's promises to pay dollars, by force of
the legal-tender acts, without regard to date.
And on this point Mr. Justice Bradley, in his
concurring opinion, says: “So with the power of
the government to borrow money, a power to he
exercised by the consent of the lender, if possible,
but to be exercised without his consent if neces-
sary. And when exercised in the form of legal
tender notes or bills of credit, it may operate for
the time being to compel the creditor to receive
the credit of the government in place of the gold
which he expected to receive from his debtor.
All these are fundamental political conditions on
which life, property and money are respectively
held and enjoyed under our system of govern-
ment, nay, under any system of government.
There are times when the exigencies of the state
rightly absorb all subordinate considerations of
private interest, convenience or feeling ; and at
such times the temporary, though compulsory,
acceptance by a private creditor, of the govern-
ment credit, in lieu of his debtor's obligation to
pay, is one of the slightest forms in which the
necessary burdens of society can be sustained.
Instead of being a violation of such obligation,
it merely subjects it to one of those conditions
under which it is held and enjoyed.” The chief
justice, with whom concurred Justices Nelson,
Field and Clifford, delivered a dissenting opin-
ion. He strenuously maintained his former views,
as did also Justices Field and Clifford, in Separate
opinions. The burden of their argument was,
that the constitution forbade any state to make
anything but gold and silver a legal tender, and
granted to the government only the right to coin
this gold and silver, and regulate the value thereof
and of foreign coin. And while the power to
emit treasury notes was conceded as one means of
borrowing money, yet that congress had no right
to make such notes money, or legal tender as
money. Mr. Justice Clifford showed that the
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
989.
words “and emit bills on the credit of the United
States” were originally reported in article seven,
in the draft of the constitution as submitted to
the convention. Mr. Morris moved to strike the
clause out on the ground that it was unnecessary,
and a vicious suggestion of a power which would
be unquestionably used anyhow without it. Mr.
Madison thought it would be sufficient to let the
clause remain, as it did not contain the hurtful
power to make such bills legal tender, but finally
voted in favor of striking out the clause entirely,
as was done, as eliminating even a “preteast for a
paper currency, and particularly for making the
bills a tender either for public or private debts,” with-
out disabling, the government from the use of
treasury notes. JOHN JAY KNOX.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, The. —
I. COLONIAL HISTORY. 1. Discovery. It is un-
necessary to consider here the controversy in re-
gard to the discoveries of the Northmen, for the
existence of the United States is due, in the first
place, to the discovery of the new world by Co-
lumbus (see AMERICA), and, in the second place,
and yet much more directly, to the discoveries
of John and Sebastian Cabot in 1497 and 1498.
There are but scanty records of their voyages;
but it is quite certain that Sebastian sailed along
the coast of what is now the United States from
parallel 38° (Virginia) to its northern limit. As
both were in the service of the English king, and
Sebastian was probably born in Bristol, England,
their discoveries were the foundation of the En-
glish claims in North America. — The discovery
of the coast further south was mainly due to voy-
ages from the Spanish West Indies. Ponce de
Leon discovered Florida, on the eastern side, in
1512; and in 1528 Narvaez secured a temporary
foothold on its northwest coast. In 1520 Ayllon
discovered the coast of what is now South Caro-
lina; and in 1524 Verrazzani, an independent voy-
ager in the service of France, filled up most of
the gaps by exploring the coast from the southern
border of North Carolina to Nova Scotia. It is
thus quite certain that the coast of the Atlantic
and gulf of Mexico was fairly well known in 1524.
There has always been a strong suspicion, how-
ever, that the Atlantic coast was just as well
known years before 1524, by the voyages of Cor-
tereal in 1500, and of other forgotten sailors before
and after him. It is asserted, for example, that a
planisphere, dating from 1502, has been discovered
(1883) at Modena, in the archives of the Este fam-
ily, and that it gives the outline of the whole At-
lantic coast of the United States, including Florida.
There has even been a disposition, in some quar-
ters, to deny the claims of Columbus as a discov-
erer, and to make him also a mere reproducer of
the work of unknown predecessors. However
this may be, the political history of the United
States can not look back further than Columbus’
discovery for the causes of the country’s exist-
ence. The discovery of the Pacific coast is else-
where treated. (See NORTHWEST BOUNDARY.)—
All this work was confined to the seacoast, and no.
attempt was made upon the interior for nearly a
century, with a single remarkable exception, the
most extraordinary episode in this part of the his-
tory of the United States. In 1539 Ferdinand
de Soto, with a Spanish force, landed at Tampa
bay, marched north into what is now northern
Georgia, thence back to Mobile, and thence north-
west into Arkansas, discovering and crossing the
Mississippi, in April, 1541, near the present south-
erly boundary of Tennessee. After nearly cross-
ing Arkansas, he moved down the Washita river
to the Mississippi. Here he died, in May, 1542,
and the remnants of his force built boats, in which
they reached Mexico. With the exception of this.
quixotic affair, and a few expeditions sent north-
ward by the Spanish governors of Mexico into
what is now New Mexico and California, the in-
terior of North America was for a long time un-
touched: the ocean was the base of operations for
all the early discoverers. — 2. Colonization. The
colonization of the central belt of North America,
now covered by the United States, was essayed at
different times by five nations of Europe, En-
gland, France, Spain, Holland and Sweden. The
details of these attempts will be found under the
names of the various colonies referred to below.
It is intended here only to show the manner in
which Great Britain gradually ousted the other
sovereignties from this particular territory, and
formed here a chain of thirteen homogeneous colo-
nies of her own, fitted for subsequent coalescence.
into a nation. — The claim of Spain to the whole.
of the two Americas, confirmed by a papal bull in
1493, was respected by other nations until they
were touched by the influences of thereformation.
In 1562 an unsuccessful colony of French Hugue-
nots was planted at Port Royal, and this part of
the continent was named Carolina, in honor of
Charles IX. Of France. In 1564 a more success-
ful colony was planted on the St. John’s river, in
northern Florida; but this was extirpated by the
Spaniards under circumstances of great atrocity.
There were no further attempts at colonization by
French Protestants; and the energies of Spain
were bent toward the richer regions of Mexico.
and South America; so that central North Amer-
ica remained uncolonized. —England was now
controlled by the reformation; a new era of men-
tal and physical activity was opening ; and her
policy was taking a line of pronounced opposition.
to Spain. Her connection with the new world
had been kept up by a vigorous prosecution of the
Newfoundland fisheries; and in 1578 her prelim-
inary failures in the process of colonization were
begun. In that year, and in 1583, two unsuccess-
ful voyages were made to North America by Sir
Humphrey Gilbert, Sir Walter Raleigh's half-
brother, under patent from Queen Elizabeth. In
1584, under a new patent, Raleigh sent out two.
small vessels under Amidas and Barlow. They
explored the coast of North Carolina, and reported
so favorably that Queen Elizabeth named the
country Virginia, as a token of the favor of the
990
TJNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
virgin queen. In 1585 Raleigh fixed the first En-
glish colony in America on Roanoke island, in
North Carolina: it was starved out in a year. In
1587 he established another at the same place: it
had disappeared, when it was searched for three
years afterward, and has never since been heard
of. Raleigh's ill success discouraged him and
others, and there were no further individual ef-
forts at English colonization. English voyagers
still skirted the coast and trafficked with the Indi-
ans, but at the beginning of the seventeenth cent-
ury there was not an English colonist in North
America. — English colonization was forced by
the general poverty and discontent of the English
lower classes; but English statesmen wisely in-
trusted the execution of the work to joint-stock
companies. Two companies were formed, and
were chartered by one patent of James I., dated
April 10, 1606. To the London company, com-
posed of merchants and gentlemen in and near
London, was granted the Atlantic coast between
north latitude 34° and 41°, that is, from about
Cape Fear to Long Island. To the Plymouth
company, whose members lived in the west of
England, was granted the coast between north
latitude 38° and 45°, that is, from the mouth of
the Potomac to the eastern boundary of Maine.
From the Potomac to Long Island, where the two
glauts UU11ſlicted, Lellier CUIII parly Was to plant
a settlement within 100 miles of a settlement pre-
viously planted by the other. The western extent
of both grants was indefinite. — The patent prac-
tically reserved to the crown all powers of legisla-
tion, and gave the nominal ruling bodies, the
councils, little or no power. But it contained the
following important clause, which was always
rated as more significant by the colonists than
by the crown : “And we do, for us, our heirs
and successors, declare by these presents that all
and every the persons, being our subjects, which
shall dwell and inhabit within every or any of
the Said several colonies and plantations, and
every of their children, which shall happen to be
born within any of the limits and precincts of the
said several colonies and plantations, shall have
and enjoy all liberties, franchises and immunities,
within any of our other dominions, to all intents
and purposes as if they had been abiding and
born within this our realm of England, or any
other of our said dominions.” The intention of
this royal advertisement and contract for the en-
couragement of emigration always seemed to the
colonists too plain for argument. The ingenuity of
crown lawyers was easily able to convince the
crown, in after years, that there were many
“liberties, franchises and immunities,” extorted
from the crown by English subjects, which did
not extend to the colonists. But the colonists were
never convinced, and it is difficult to see any reason
why they should have been convinced. — The
patent also contained a provision, that, if any
resident of the colonies should trade with foreign
countries, without first obtaining a license from
the crown, his ship and “all his goods and chat-
tels” should be forfeited to the crown. It was
evident from this that the British government had
no higher conception of colonization than the other
governments of the time, and that its purpose was
“to monopolize the consumption of the colonies,
and the carriage of their produce.” (This branch
of the subject is fully treated under NAVIGATION
LAWS.)—The Plymouth company, after an un-
successful attempt to fix a colony at the mouth of
the Kennebec river in 1607, did no colonizing for
itself, and in 1620 received a new charter, cover-
ing the territory between north latitude 40° and
48°, that is, from about Philadelphia to Cape
Breton island. This charter was also surrendered
to the crown in 1635; but, before ſhe surrender,
the company had made the grants which resulted
in the formation of the several colonies of New
Hampshire, Massachusetts and Connecticut (see
their names), and the unauthorized settlement had
been begun, which became the colony of Rhode
Island. (See its name.) Massachusetts was at
first two colonies, Plymouth and Massachusetts
Bay; and Connecticut, in like manner, was dual,
Connecticut and New Haven. It is notable that
only two of these six colonies, New Hampshire
and Massachusetts Bay, were founded under the
auspices of the company. The first settlement in
the company's territory, at Plymouth, Dec. 21,
1620, was made without the company’s permission
or knowledge, and the two Connecticut colonies
and Rhode Island were equally unauthorized.
After the dissolution.of the company, the crown
reduced the number of colonies to four, by consoli-
dation, and chartered these at various times. –
The London company was more active and suc-
cessful. Its first expedition fixed the first per-
manent English colony in North America at
Jamestown, in the present state of Virginia, May
13, 1607. In 1609 it received a new charter, limiting
its territory to the present states of Virginia, Mary-
land and North Carolina. By the subsequent
creation of the colonies of Maryland and Carolina
the jurisdiction of Virginia was reduced to the
area which it covered as a state. (See VIRGINIA,
TERRITORIES.) In 1624 the London company was
deprived of its charter, and Virginia became a royal
province ; but the inhabitants were not deprived
of the privileges which the company had granted
them. — The grant of land for the new colony of
Maryland in 1632 was carved out of the Virginia
jurisdiction, and so was the northern half of the
grant of Carolina in 1663. (See NoFTH CAROLINA.)
But, in the latter case, the grant extended far to
the south of the original grant to the London
company, covering the old French claims to
“Carolina.” The Spaniards felt no more amica-
bly toward the new than toward the old intruders,
but were unable to get rid of them in the same
summary fashion, and submitted to the intrusion.
In 1732 the last of the original thirteen colonies,
Georgia, was carved out of South Carolina as a
barrier against the Spaniards in Florida; and at the
peace of 1763 it was extended a little further south,
to its present southern boundary. — Holland and
$
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
991
Sweden were the only powers which disputed the
territory of the incloate nation with England,
and their attempts were confined to the region of
three degrees between the specific grants to the
two English companies, from about Philadelphia
to Long Island. The attempt of the Swedes may
be briefly dismissed: it was never supported ear-
nestly by the mother country, and fell like an un-
supported forlorn hope after the first assault. It was
located in the present state of Delaware, but with
efficient support from home would have grounded
a fair claim to the whole of the present state of
Pennsylvania. Unsupported, it was unable to re-
sist the Dutch to the north, who conquered and
annexed it in 1655. All the present middle states
thus became Dutch. — Holland claimed the coast
line explored in 1609 by Henry Hudson, an En-
glishman in the service of the Dutch East India
company. It extended from Chesapeake bay to
the Hudson river, and up that river to where
Albany now stands. To this they added claims,
by exploration or conquest from the Indians or
Swedes, to Long Island, the territory west and
northwest of the coast line, and the territory be-
tween the Hudson and the Connecticut rivers. In
1621 all this territory, under the name of New
Netherlands, was granted by Holland to the Dutch
West India company, which colonized and gov-
erned it for forty years. In 1664, Charles II.
granted the territory comprised in New Neth-
'erlands to his brother, duke of York, who took
possession at once by force. New York and New
Jersey were made separate colonies. (See their
names.) In 1681 Pennsylvania was made a sepa-
rate colony, and Delaware remained united with
it, by very loose ties, until the revolution. (See
their names.)—The central zone of North Amer-
ica seems made for a great nation, and the English
people had thus seized the whole of its vantage
ground, the Atlantic Coast. At first the seizure
was made almost at one blow and without opposi-
tion, so far as regarded the northern and Southern
portions of the coast; and the natural pressure of
these upon the centre had begun the last stage of
the work, when it was hastened by force in 1664.
The last rival then disappeared from the coast, and
the whole gateway to an imperial domain was in
English hands. – 3. Colomºal Development. The
disturbed state of England during the forty years
following the landing of the settlers at Plymouth,
undoubtedly contributed very essentially to the
growth of the colonies. At first, while the high
church party controlled the administration of
affairs in England, dissenters of every grade of
intensity, from the low church puritan to the in-
dependent, found safe refuge in New England,
and increased the population of this section. In
this manner about 20,000 persons emigrated in the
eleven years, 1630–41. When the high church
party went down, and when the Presbyterians
Suffered a like misfortune, their adherents found
refuge in the colonies to the southward. In either
Case the emigration was itself a protest against the
existing order of things in England, which came
little short of rebellion: it was the only substitute
for force. — It is certain, however, that the won-
derful increase in the population of the colonies
was due to the natural vis generamdº of the race,
set loose in a boundless and fertile territory, rather
than to persecution and immigration. As soon as
statistics began to make any approach to accuracy,
it became evident that the population of the colo-
nies was doubling steadily once in twenty-five
years. And yet Franklin, a man of cautious esti-
mate, could write as follows, in 1751 : “There are
supposed to be now upward of one million English
souls in North America, though it is thought scarce
eighty thousand have been brought over sea.”
Whether this estimate be well or ill founded, it
shows the belief at the time that the old English
people had not been transferred to America, but
that a new English people had grown up there
from a small seed. — But, in spite of the compara-
tive smallness of the seed, its peculiar character,
and the reasons for its transfer, were of enormous
weight in the history of the United States, and
have colored all the subsequent order of events.
The original settlers were to frame the institutions
of the new nation, to cast the mould in which
their descendants were to be developed. In doing
the work, they were controlled by the lurking
and generally unconscious feeling of incipient re-
bellion under which they had emigrated. Their
minds naturally reverted to the traditions of their
race; they rejected most of the forms of class
supremacy which they had found so troublesome
at home ; and in each of the thirteen colonies
they established as near an approach to democracy
as circumstances would allow. It is a mistake to
suppose that the privileges of the people were se-
cure only under the charter governments of New
England. In what might be called the palatine
governments, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland,
and (at first) New Jersey and North and South
Carolina, in which the crown resigned the domin-
ion of the colony to a palatine, or proprietor, the
patents were very full and liberal in enumerating
the privileges of the people, and the people were
always more ready to assert them against a pro-
prietor than against the king. In the Carolinas
(see NORTH CAROLINA) the proprietors attempted
to establish a privileged aristocracy, but were de-
feated by popular opposition. In the royal colonies,
New Hampshire, New York, New Jersey, Vir-
ginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia, in which any
struggle had to be leveled at the king's vicegerent,
the tender plant of popular privilege was effectu-
ally shielded by the distance of the colonies from
the mother country, and by the uniform contempt
of the mother country for the colonies. The for-
mer furnished special safeguards, but the latter
was a general safeguard. A timely creation of a
number of American peerages, with grants of
land, and with hereditary privileges, even if only
in the royal colonies, would have vitally altered
the conditions of the new country, and would
have immensely increased the difficulties of the
final revolution. It must be evident that this
992
|UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
was the only policy which could have prevented
or checked the establishment of democracy in
America, but it had an implacable opponent in
the prejudices of the ruling class in England.
Thus, from various influences the thirteen com-
monwealths which grew up on the Atlantic coast
of North America were of a generally democratic
character. They varied only in degree, from
the highly democratic charter commonwealths,
through the scarcely less democratic palatine com-
monwealths, to the royal commonwealths, in
which democracy maintained itself successfully
against the feeble opposition of a distant king.
There were some limitations on the elective fran-
chise; there were, in most of the colonies, at-
tempts to establish an ecclesiastical order ; but
hereditary privilege, with all its powerful influ-
ences on politics, was a complete blank in the
colonies. The unwisdom of the English ruling
class, its disdainful refusal to recognize any equal
class in the new country, llad resulted in the
spread of democracy over all America. — During
the first period of their development, the colonies
had little or no political connection with one an-
other, but were loosely united by a common alle-
giance to the crown. Each colony lived its own
life, uncontrolled by any or by all of the other
colonies. These are the circumstances on which
has been built the theory of “state sovereignty.”
(See that title.) They are admitted, but not the
consequences which are sought to be drawn from
them. On the contrary, it must be evident that
all the materials for a new nation were here pres.
ent in chaos, waiting for the blow which should
crystallize them into permanent form. (See NA-
TION.) So long as there were no controlling com-
mon interests, the repelling force between individ-
ual colonies showed itself rather in inaction than
in action, rather by a negation of union than by
positive and individual commonwealth assertion.
Just as rapidly as the importance of public action
increased, just so Surely did the signs of union
multiply. They were naturally confined at first
to the homogeneous New England colonies, which
united for a time in 1643. (See NEW ENGLAND
UNION.) When the French wars fairly opened,
after 1689, the middle colonies began to take part
with the New England colonies in their expedi-
tions against the Canadian strongholds. Finally,
when the great French and Indian war broke out,
common interests brought all the colonies into
Something like common action. (See WARs, I.)
South Carolina troops were with Washington at
Fort Necessity; and wherever troops from differ.
ent colonies came together, as they frequently did
thereafter, they learned to use the common name
“provincials” to distinguish themselves from the
British troops. There was even a promising but
unsuccessful attempt at a formal union of the
colonies in 1754. (See ALBANY PLAN OF UNION.)
— A more successful attempt to unite the colonies
was made in 1765. (See STAMP ACT CongBESS.)
It was due to the first attempt of the home gov-
ernment to impose internal taxes on the colonies
by acts of parliament. Against this attempt there
was one general plea, the original promise of the
crown to all emigrants to America, that they
should “enjoy all liberties, franchises and immu-
nities,” “to all intents and purposes as if they
had been abiding and born within this our realm
of England.” Certainly the people of England
had secured, as at least one of their “liberties,
franchises and immunities,” the right to be taxed
by their own parliaments, not by a foreign parlia-
ment or by the crown. The colonies accordingly
claimed the same for themselves; none of them
was able to maintain it individually ; and they
drifted together in common action. — The action
of the congress of 1765 was altogether advisory
and deliberative, not legislative, and had only the
effect of accustoming the colonists to the idea of
union. The case was much the same with the
first continental congress of 1774. But events.
were moving rapidly. It has been stated that the
rights of the colonists were not guaranteed at all
in the royal colonies, except by the original prom-
ise of the crown; that they were considerably
better secured in the palatine, or proprietary, col-
onies; and that they were best secured in the
charter colonies of New England. When, there-
fore, the crown and parliament chose, or were
forced, to attack the rights of Massachusetts, one
of the charter colonies, the attack was felt by all,
and all united to resist it. When the second con-
tinental congress met, in 1775, the struggle had
taken the shape of force, and the congress was.
compelled to resort to action, not to deliberation.
(See Congress, CONTINENTAL ; REVOLUTION ;
FLAG ) — In theory, the second congress was ex-
actly like the first, a meeting of committees from
thirteen independent commonwealths, without
any authority to act except what was formally
given to each delegation by its own common-
wealth. But in practice the case was radically
different. The congress became a revolutionary
national assembly, and seized all the powers of
national government; and the authority for the
seizure was not in any grant of power by the
states, but in the acquiescence and support of
the people at large. It is true that the people
universally desired the retention of state lines.
in the organization of the new nation; but the
retention was due to the will of the mass of
the people, not to the will of any or all of the
states. If the mass of the people had desired.
it, congress would have blotted out or ignored
state lines, as it did in the case of Vermont, and
any individual state would have been as power-
less against congress as against the crown. The
states, then, owe their existence as states, Orig-
inally and continuously, to the will of a people
practically unanimous on that subject. It is very
true that this national people can express its Will.
only with the very greatest difficulty, and then
mainly by acquiescence or resistance; but it is
equally true, that, when it has been necessary, as
in 1775 and 1787–9, when the usual machinery of
state government has failed, the national people.
|UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
993
has found a way to express its will, and its will
has been obeyed. The statement of conflicting
views in regard to the ultimate “sovereignty” of
the United States is necessarily reserved to a sub-
sequent section of this article : but the reasons
above assigned will explain why this series of
articles holds that the ultimate sovereignty of the
United States is in the mass of the people; and
that state and national governments and constitu-
tions owe their existence to the will of the ulti-
mate sovereignty, and hold from it. This has
seemed to the writer the only theory which can
account in an orderly manner for the successive
changes of national government: it makes the
continental congress a legal, even if revolutionary,
exponent of the general popular will; the articles
of confederation a valid system for its time, even
if unnecessarily ratified by the state legislatures;
and the convention of 1787 a legitimate exponent
of the general popular will to have a change of
government, in spite of the state legislatures, but
without sacrificing the states. Any other theory
makes the continental congress a clique of daring
usurpers, seizing national power in defiance of the
de jure sovereignties, the states; the articles of
confederation a similar successful usurpation by
the state legislatures, to which their common-
wealths had granted no powers to make any such
league; and the constitution itself a contra usurpa-
tion by an illegal convention, condoned by the
tardy ratifications of state conventions. (See CoN-
GRESS, CONTINENTAL ; CONFEDERATION, ARTI-
CLES OF; ConvKNTION OF 1787.) Either the sov-
ereignty of the United States is in the mass of
the people, divided into states by its own will; or
the political history of the United States must
be abandoned as only a labyrinth without a clue.
— II. NATIONAL HISTORY. 1. 1775–89. If we
take the first instance of the use of force in the
struggle between the colonies and the mother
country, the fight at Lexington, April 19, 1775, as
the signal for the transformation of congress into
a revolutionary national assembly, the people of
the “United Colonies” were still nominally under
the rule of George III. for more than a year
thereafter. Congress still addressed them and
spoke of them as “his majesty's most faithful
subjects in these colonies,” even while it was ex-
horting them to kill the soldiers sent to America
by his majesty. When the royal proclamation of
Aug. 23, 1775, charged them with “forgetting the
allegiance which they owed to the power that had
protected and sustained them,” the congress, in its
answer of the following Dec. 6, defined its position
thus skillfully: “What allegiance is it that we for-
get? Allegiance to parliament? We never owed—
we never owned it. Allegiance to our king? Our
words have ever avowed it, our conduct has ever
been consistent with it.” When, however, it was
found that the king was irrevocably committed to
the enemies of the United Colonies, the congress,
July 4, 1776, abolished the royal authority for-
ever. (See DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE,
ALLEGIANCE.) In 1778 the new nation was recog-
182 VOL. III. —- 63
new government.
nized by France, and in 1783, by the definitive
treaty of peace which closed the struggle, it was
recognized by the king of Great Britain. (See
REVOLUTION, AMERICAN, and, for the terms of
the recognition, STATE Sover EIGNTY.)—The con-
gress retained its position as a revolutionary gov-
ernment for six years, 1775–81, though its power
was constantly decreasing during the last half of
the period. In 1781 it passed, without a jar, into
the new government under the articles of confed-
eration. This purported to be a pure federation,
a league of sovereign states, and it was soon found
to be useless and dangerous. In 1787 a federal
convention was extorted from the state legisla-
tures and congress by a general concurrence of
the popular will. It framed the constitution,
which was ratified by state conventions and be-
came the basis of a new national government.
(See CoNGRESS, CONTINENTAL; CONFEDERATION,
ARTICLES OF, and TERRITORIES for the delay in
ratifying them; CoNVENTION OF 1787; CoNSTITU-
TION.)—2. The Federalists, 1789–1801. At the
time of the organization of the new government,
parties had already been developed, though the
line of division was not permanently preserved.
All who had supported the new constitution took
the name of federalists, as those who opposed it
took the name of anti-federalists. The anti-fed-
eralists, as a distinct party, disappeared as soon
as the new government was fairly organized, and
the federalists were left in undisputed control of
national affairs. But the latter party contained
many members, particularly in Virginia, who
were opposed to the growth of national power at
the expense of state power, and to strong govern-
ment or class government at the expense of the
individual. These coalesced into a new party of
constitutional opposition, the democratic-repub-
lican party, which grew stronger all through this
period, until, in 1801, it finally overthrew the fed-
eral party. (See ANTI-FEDERAL PARTY; FEDER-
AL PARTY, I.; DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN PARTY,
I., II. ; CONSTRUCTION; HAMILTON; JEFFERSON.)
—In July, 1788, when the ninth state had ratified
the constitution, the congress of the confederation
had named New York city as the place, and March
4, 1789, as the time, for the organization of the
Difficulty of travel, and the
slovenly habits learned under the confederacy,
delayed the organization until April 6, when a
Quorum of both houses was obtained to count the
electoral votes. Until 1804 the electors simply
voted for two persons, without specifying the vote
for president and vice-president. (See ELECTORS.)
In this case, Washington was found to have a
unanimous vote, and became president, and John
Adams, having the next largest vote, became vice-
president. (In all cases under this article, for
electoral votes see the article ELECTORAL WOTES;
for cabinets, see ADMINISTRATIONS; for brief biog-
raphies, see the names of the persons mentioned.)
—The federalists, with very little opposition, pro-
ceeded to organize the new government by acts
defining the powers of the various departments,
994
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
and organizing inferior courts and territories.
Their work was so well done that it still forms
the skeleton of the government of the United
States. Two other measures, involving the first
broad construction of the powers of congress,
provoked a warmer opposition. The organization
of a national bank (see BANK CONTROVERSIES,
II.), and the assumption of state debts (see FI-
NANCE; CAPITAL, NATIONAL), resulted in the rise
of the republican party, under Jefferson. Never-
theless, the result of the presidential election of
1792 was the same as that of 1789. — Foreign
affairs now began to control American politics,
for the French revolution had begun its destruc-
tive course, and the republicans, and still more
the democrats, were in pronounced sympathy with
it. (See GENET, CITIZEN; DEMOCRATIC CLUBS.)
England had begun a systematic effort to drive
American commerce into her own harbors, and
the republicans were anxious to begin a war of
eommercial restrictions against her (see EMBARGO,
I.); but this question was put to rest for ten years
by a treaty concluded in 1794–5. (See JAY's
TREATY.) French agents, however, continued to
interfere in American politics, and diplomatic
difficulties with France continued through the
following term.—Vermont was admitted as a state
in 1791, Kentucky in 1792, and Tennessee in 1796.
(See their names.) The rest of the western border
was the occasion of more difficulty. Travel was
exceedingly difficult, for the roads were so bad
as to be almost worse than no roads; internal mi-
gration was slow; the Indian title to lands west
of Pennsylvania was not extinguished; and bor-
der lawlessness was as ready to oppose national
laws as to attack the Indians. In 1794 it became
necessary to march a militia force into western
Pennsylvania to suppress disorders. (See WHIS-
KY INSURRECTION.) A war with the Miamis re-
sulted in their defeat and their cession of nearly
the whole of Ohio in 1795; and in the same year,
by Jay's treaty, the British gave up the forts in
the northwest territory, which they had held for
twelve years in violation of the treaty of 1783.
Emigration to Ohio increased at once, and the
movement of American population was turned
finally toward the northwest territory. — During
Washington's second term, party division ad-
vanced so far that the republican members of the
cabinet successively retired, and the administra-
tion became altogether federalist. In 1796 Wash-
ington refused to be a candidate for a third term
(see FAREWELL ADDRESSES), and John Adams
was elected president. Jefferson, however, ran
ahead of the other federalists, and became vice-
president. Adams' single term was one of great
difficulty at home and abroad. The United States
came to the verge of war with France (see X Y Z
MISSION), and the federal majority in congress
seized the opportunity to enact dangerous laws
for their own partisan advantage. (See ALIEN
AND SEDITION LAWS.) Opposition in congress
was so evidently hopeless that the republican lead-
ers at first attempted to use the state legislatures
as instruments of resistance. (See KENTUCKY
AND VIRGINIA RESOLUTIONS, NULLIFICATION.)
But the presidential election of 1800 proved to be
a surer instrument: the federal party was defeated,
and fell, never to rise again. There were some
points which were settled with great difficulty
(see DISPUTED ELECTIONs, I. ; ELECTORs, VI.),
but the main question had been settled for the
time: the people, as yet, preferred that power
should not be granted to the federal government
at the expense of the states. (In general, see
FEDERAL PARTY, I., DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN
PARTY, I., II.). — 3. The Republicans, 1801–29.
The methods of the government of the United
States were altogether the same after 1801 as be-
fore: the constructive skill of the federalists had
planned them so wisely that it would have been
worse than folly to drop them. But its spirit had
changed, and the change was quickly reflected by
the states. Democracy had got the bit in its teeth;
the hand of the federalists had not been heavy
enough to control it. In every state outside of
New England, all restrictions upon the right of
white males over the age of twenty-one to vote
were gradually swept away, with the exception of
residence qualifications; and all connection be-
tween state and church was severed. It became
the fashion to think, talk and act more freely, and
with less subservience to the prejudices of the in-
dividual's class or creed. In this sense the “rev-
olution of 1800” has never gone backward: every
party, court, church and person in the United
States feels the influence of the force which was
then loosed. — In foreign affairs, Jefferson's ad-
ministrations were marked by a war with Tripoli
(see ALGERINE WAR), and a revival of the com-
mercial difficulties with Great Britain. (See EM-
BARGO.) These latter continued through Jeffer-
son's administrations, and into those of his suc-
cessor, and culminated in the war of 1812. (See
WARS, IW.; CoNVENTION, HARTFORD.) No part
of the political history of the United States is so
weak as this period, for the negation of national
sovereignty in internal affairs carried with it im-
potence in foreign intercourse. (See NATION.)
In 1807 the British frigate “Leopard” stopped
and searched the United States frigate “Chesa.
peake,” and took from her four seamen, claimed
to be deserters; and the only retaliation was a
proclamation ordering British armed vessels to
quit the waters of the United States. – In domes-
tic affairs, Jefferson’s first administration was
marked by the annexation of Louisiana, in 1803
(see ANNExATIONS, I.), which more than doubled
the territory of the United States. Four years
afterward, in 1807, Fulton produced a usable
steamboat, and within four years the building of
steamboats on western waters had begun. Ful-
ton's invention earried emigration far more rap-
idly into the northwest territory, and through it
to Louisiana. But Jefferson’s Second term, said
John Randolph, was like the lean kine, and ate
up the fatness of the first. It was disturbed, to a
dangerous extent, by the distress and discontent
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
995
produced in New England by the restrictive sys-
tem. (See EMBARGo, II.; SECESSION, I.; HENRY
HDoCUMENTs.) The newly acquired Mississippi
river became the rôute of a mysterious expedition,
under the late vice-president, Burr, which excited
general fears for the safety of Louisiana. (See
BURR.) Jefferson’s second term ended unhappily,
with a general suspension of commerce, discon-
itent, distrust and uncertainty, and he was suc-
ceeded by Madison. —During Madison's first term
the embargo system passed by successive stages
into open war against Great Britain. (See EM-
BARGO, III.-W.; WARs, IV.) The war achieved
none of the objects for which it was begun, but
it served a greater purpose by hardening the gristle
of the young nation into something like bone.
No test could be so severe, for a nation which
still considered itself a “voluntary confedera-
tion,” as a war to which one of its most influen-
tial sections was conscientiously and angrily op-
posed; but the test was endured successfully.
(See ConvKNTION, HARTFORD; DRAFTs, I.; NA-
TION, III.) With the close of the war a new era
began, which only waited for the introduction of
the railroad in 1830 to develop into the full life of
the United States. Commerce revived. Manu-
factures, fostered by the restrictive system and the
war, demanded and received protection; and in
the process they destroyed the remnants of the
federal party. (See TARIFF; FEDERAL PARTY,
II.) The war, especially on the northern and
southwestern frontier, had forced upon the atten-
tion of the people the danger of their shocking
lack of good roads, and there was a general move-
ment toward an improvement in some shape. The
energies of the national government were at first
turned to the construction of roads. (See CUM-
BERLAND ROAD.) But the state of New York
had the enterprise to open a new vein by the con-
struction of the Erie canal, and this turned other
states and the national government to a general sys-
tem of public improvements. (See NEW YORK, IN-
TERNAL IMPROVEMENTS.) A new national bank
was created. (See BANK CONTROVERSIES, IV.) All
these measures were opposed to that strict construc-
tion of the constitution, and that complete suprem-
acy of state life and action, which were the formal
basis of the dominant party; but the drift of the
party to their support could not be checked. It
was aided by the supreme court, whose influence
as a nationalizing factor now first became appar-
ent. (See JUDICIARY, II.) The whole change
reconciled the federalists to their absorption into
the republican party. Indeed, they claimed, with
considerable show of justice, that the absorption
was in the other direction; that the republicans
had recanted; and that the “Washington-Monroe
policy,” as they termed it after 1820, was all that
federalists had ever desired. — This was an era of
state making. Louisiana was admitted in 1812,
Indiana in 1816, Mississippi in 1817, Illinois in
1818, Alabama in 1819, Maine in 1820, and Mis-
souri in 1821. (See their names.) In the admis-
sion of Missouri there was a series of difficulties
which showed that the two sections, the north and
the South, were drifting dangerously far apart on
the subject of slavery; but these difficulties were
settled in a manner sufficiently satisfactory to
both sections to quiet the question for nearly thirty
years. (See COMPROMISEs, IV.; SLAVERY, W.)
State admissions ceased for fifteen years after the
admission of Missouri; but the organization of
territories, and the continued movement of popu-
lation to the west, were guarantees that state for-
mation had not ceased altogether. — At the end of
Madison's second term, in 1817, Monroe became
president with hardly any opposition, except in
the matter of his nomination. In 1821 he was re-
elected without opposition. The federal party
had disappeared in national politics, and, during
the next three years, it disappeared in state politics
also. (See ERA OF GOOD FEELING...) In the all-
absorbing republican party, four distinct geograph-
ical sections had been developed: the northern,
headed by John Quincy Adams, wished for pro-
tection to manufactures; the northwestern, head-
ed by Clay, wished for internal improvements;
the southwestern, headed by Jackson, without
defined economic principles, had a general fond-
ness for democracy; and the southern, headed
by Crawford, wished for none of these things,
but cared only for state independence. In the
presidential election of 1824, all these four lead-
ers were candidates, and the result was that
Adams was elected by the house of represent-
atives. (See DISPUTED ELECTIONs, II.) Dur-
ing his single term the Clay and Adams factions
united in a common policy as to a protective
tariff and internal improvements. (See TARIFF,
INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS.) On the other hand,
the Jackson and Crawford factions also drew
nearer together; Crawford’s severe illness made
Jackson the recognized leader of a united opposi-
tion; and in 1828 he was elected president over
Adams. – From the close of the war until the end
of this period, democracy was assailing the orig-
inal spirit of the federal government at every vul-
nerable point. The old federalist system of leav-
ing nominations to conferences and correspond-
ence of leaders had long been abandoned in favor
of caucuses of congressmen, as more directly rep-
resenting the people. Now, this was not demo-
cratic enough, and the people began to take the
matter of nominations into their own hands. (See
CAUCUS SYSTEM; CAUCUS, CONGRESSIONAL; NOM-
INATING CONVENTIONs.) The electors had long
ceased to be anything more than automata; but
now congress began to assert a revisory power over
their action, which has proved more dangerous as
it has grown more complete. (See ELECTORs.)
Jackson's election in 1828 was generally demanded
as a rebuke to the house of representatives, which
had disregarded the wish of a plurality of the peo-
ple, while it followed the forms and spirit of the
constitution, in electing Adams in 1824. About
the same time began the long list of attempts, as
yet unsuccessful, to make the electoral system still
more democratic, or to do away with it altogether.
996
DNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
(See ELECTORS, WI.) In one point the movement
was more successful: in all the states, excepting
South Carolina, the choice of electors was aban-
doned by the state legislatures, and given to the
people. — In foreign affairs, the most noteworthy
event was the formulation of the “Monroe doc-
trine.” This is fully treated elsewhere. (See
MONROE DOCTRINE.) — (In general, see FEDERAL
PARTY, II.; DEMOCRATIC PARTY, III.; WHIG
PARTY, I.)—4. The Democrats, 1829–49. Since
the beginning of Jackson's first term democracy
has held social and political control of the United
States. It showed itself first in a blind and un-
hesitating support of Jackson, as the exponent of
democracy. To his opponents this seemed like
the establishment of a popular tyranny, a Caesar-
ism. They, therefore, took the party name of
whigs, as the opponents of a would-be king, and
were joined, after the failure of nullification, by
most of the extreme state rights republicans of the
south. (See WHIG PARTY, II.) Jackson's sup-
porters very naturally took the name of democrats,
though they still asserted a sole right to the name
of republicans, when they chose to use it. (See
DEMOCRATIC PARTY, IV.) Under the lead of
Jackson and the new school of politicians which
surrounded him, the democrats attacked the na-
tional bank, drove it into politics, and, after a
struggle of about five years, destroyed it. (See
BANK CONTROVERSIES, III.; DEPOSITs, REMOVAL
of.) They broke up, not without much rebell-
ion in their own ranks, the Adams system of in-
ternal improvements. (See that title.) They ob-
tained a gradual reduction of the protective tariff
(see TARIFF), while they suppressed the attempt
of the South Carolina nullificationists to abolish it
suddenly and by revolutionary means. (See NUL-
LIFICATION.) They gave the people a nominal
control over the appointing power by introducing
the practice of “rotation in officc”: its real effects
are fully treated in a distinct series of articles.
(See SPOILs SYSTEM, REMOVALS.) At the same
time they gave the people, or rather the politicians
who represented the people, full control over nom-
inations by the creation of the modern machinery
of a national party. (See NOMINATING CONVEN-
TIONs.) Finally, under Van Buren, Jackson's
successor, they completed the “divorce of bank
and state,” by introducing the sub-treasury sys-
tem. (See INDEPENDENT TREASURY.)— All these
changes are credited to the democratic party: in
reality, most of them were due to Jackson, who
toned up and re-enforced any wavering energy
in his party by an abundant use of his veto power.
(See VETo.) By whatever means accomplished,
they still further changed toward democracy the
feelings of the people; and the introduction of the
railroad in 1830, and the telegraph in 1844, into
the vast territory of the United States, fixed the
character of its political and social life, particular-
ly in the north and west. The South did not feel
the change so much (see SLAVERY, IV.); and from
this time the drift of the two great Sections apart
Became more rapid. (See NATION, III.)—Inforeign
affairs, the policy of the new leaders was as vigor-
ous as in domestic affairs. Claims foºdepredations
on American commerce during the Napoleonic
wars had long been urged against France, Spain,
Naples, Portugal and Denmark. Jackson collected
them. (See ExECUTIVE, III.) There was much
popular sympathy with the Canadian revolt of
1837, but the government suppressed any active
interference with its course. (See McLEOD CASE.)
— This whole period, 1829–49, has been assigned
to the democrats, in spite of the whig success in
the presidential election of 1840. Harrison, the
whig president, died after serving but one month,
and the new president, Tyler, was a natural dem-
ocrat. His use of the veto power neutralized the
whig majority in congress during the first half of
his term; and during the second half he was sup-
ported by a democratic majority in the house. In
1844 the democrats returned to the full enjoyment
of their temporarily suspended power, by the elec-
tion of Polk and a democratic congress. As a
consequence of the election, Texas was annexed
(see ANNExATIONs, III.); the war with Mexico
followed (see WARs, V.); and this was followed
by a still larger acquisition of territory. (See AN-
NExATIONs, IV., V.) While this was going on,
the territory of Oregon was secured by treaty
with the only other claimant, Great Britain. (See
NoFTHWEST BOUNDARY.) By all these changes,
the area of the United States took on the rounded
and complete form which has not since been al-
tered, except by the later acquisition of Alaska.
Six new states were admitted: Arkansas in 1836,
Michigan in 1837, Florida and Texas in 1845,
Iowa in 1846, and Wisconsin in 1848. (See their
names.) The agency of the railroad in hastening
the westward movement of population had now
become more evident, and several other incipient
states were developing. Foreign immigration had
not yet swelled to the enormous proportions which
it was soon to take; but the population had grown
about 600 per cent. larger in sixty years, from
3,900,000 in 1790 to 23,000,000 in 1850. A little
people had become a great people. (See, in gene-
ral, DEMocratic PARTY, IV.; WHIG PARTY, II.)
— 5. Sectional Conflict, 1849–61. Southern lead-
ers always blamed the growing spirit of democ-
racy in the north and west for the anti-slavery
agitation which began about 1830. (See ABO-
LITION, II.; PETITION.) There was, no doubt, very
much truth in the assertion: Garrison, Wendell
Phillips and other abolitionists were the product
of the modern democratic spirit, not of the temper
of colonial or earlier constitutional times. The
spirit which moved them was one which cared
more for the equal rights of all mankind than for
political theories, nationality, state rights or con-
stitutions; and they became the Ishmaelites of
politics. They have claimed and received a large
share of the Credit for the final overthrow of slav-
ery; and yet it is very difficult to locate the reasons
for their claim, unless he who provokes a wild
beast to such frenzy that his neighbors have to kill
it may justly claim the credit for its death. Most
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
997
of them were absolute impracticables, unable to
suggest a policy or a remedy for slavery, except,
possibly, the forcible expulsion of slave-holding
states from the Union. The liberty party of 1840
and 1844 had neither growth nor effects; and the
free-soil party (see its name) of 1848 and 1852 was
hardly an improvement on the liberty party, if we
leave out its mere political allies. From 1830 until
1848 it can hardly be said that the real abolition-
ist feeling or influence increased even in propor-
tion to the growth of population. The only real
result of the twenty-years anti-slavery agitation
was to exasperate the slaveholders, to convince
them that the north was against slavery, instead
of against slavery extension, and thus to embit-
ter the conflict of the sections over the territory
wrested from Mexico. Anti-slavery agitation
never had the faintest prospect of success by its
own exertions: its first chance of life came from
the Mexican annexations, its first prospect of suc-
cess from the Kansas-Nebraska bill, and its final
victory from the civil war; and each of these
events took place against the will of the abolition-
ists. Slavery was destroyed by no human skill
or foresight.—In 1846, when the first indication
appeared of a purpose to acquire territory from
Mexico, outside of Texas, as “indemnity for the
past, and security for the future,” it was proposed
to add a proviso forbidding slavery in any such
acquisition. (See WILMOT PROVISO.) For four
years this was the controlling question of national
politics. At first the proviso did not seem to be
very objectionable to the south or to the dominant
party: its proposer was a democrat, and it was fa-
vored by the Polk administration. As the discus-
ision went on, the south came to consider the pro-
posal as an attack upon slavery; and when the
proviso failed in 1850 several southern states had on
record declarations of their intention to secede if
it was adopted. The governing purpose of the
democratic party was to preserve its national or-
ganization intact. It succeeded in so doing by
evolving the idea that the question was to be set-
tled, for each territory, by its own people (see
POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY): this was acceptable to
the northern wing, and was not as yet repudiated
by the southern wing. Nevertheless, its inevitable
result was to make the former somewhat smaller
than the latter, and thus to begin to unbalance the
party. The Whigs proposed no solution of the
great question, and thus their two wings, while
maintaining their relative strength, were steadily
drifting away from one another. In 1848 they suc-
ceeded in electing Taylor president and Fillmore
vice-president, by means of nominating a popular
and successful general, without a platform; but
the success was deceptive. All through the ad-
ministration of Taylor and Fillmore the two great
parties were shifting their material. In the south,
pro-slavery whigs went into the democratic party;
in the north, anti-slavery democrats went into the
free-soil party. Thus the democratic party, while
remaining national, was becoming unbalanced,
and stronger in the South than in the north. The
northern Whigs, abandoned by all the factions,
were the only stationary feature in the political
kaleidoscope; and in the presidential election of
1852 they were left completely in the lurch by
their former Southern associates. – The Taylor
administration proposed, as a solution of the ter-
ritorial question, the immediate erection of the
territories into states, with full power to govern
their own affairs. This was followed out in the
case of California, because of the discovery of
gold in it and the consequent increase of popula-
tion. In the other territories, Utah and New
Mexico, both sections were content, in 1850, to ig-
more the Wilmot proviso and leave the question
untouched. (See COMPROMISEs, W.) The whole
difficulty was thus covered out of sight for a time.
But there was an uneasy feeling that further diffi-
culties were not far off, and that the country was
in worse shape to meet them, not only from the
shifting of parties, but from the changes of leaders.
In the four years before 1853, Clay, Webster,
Calhoun, Polk and Taylor had died; and the new
men who took their places can hardly be ranked
as first-class men. Most of them had laid the
foundations of their political characters in the
belief that the great business of politics was to
evade and ignore slavery. The abler men were
those who had an active programme to offer, the
radicals of both sections ; Jefferson Davis in the
South, and Seward, Sumner and Chase in the
north. Thus all the ability in politics was a sign
of disunion. The same tendency was shown in
every direction. Calhoun’s speech of March 4,
1850, is a clear statement of the manner in which
the political, ecclesiastical and social cords that held
the Union together were being snapped in every
direction. Even the churches obeyed the general
impulse, and divided into churches “north" and
“south”: only the Roman Catholic and Episcopal
Organizations, of those which had a national ex-
tent, were able to resist it. When the whig party
succumbed to it, after the presidential election of
1852, there was no great tie left, except the na-
tional Organization of the democratic party, and
that had lost much of its spirit. It is a remarka-
ble evidence of the innate strength of the Amer-
ican Union that the two fragments of the planet,
thus rent asunder by slavery before 1852, should
for nine years longer have gone in close and
parallel courses, held by such weak ties, before
the force of repulsion finally mastered them. — In
spite of the general uneasiness in respect to the
future, the first four years after the compromise
of 1850 passed quietly, except for the excitement
attending the execution of the new fugitive slave
law, and the opening movements of the attempts
to obtain new slave territory by “filibustering.”
(See FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW, FILIBUSTERs, Os-
TEND MANIFESTO.) In 1854 the slavery question
was again brought on the political field in larger
proportions than ever by the passage of the Kan-
sas-Nebraska bill, which virtually repealed the
Missouri compromise. (See RANSAS-NEBRASKA
BILL.) The passage of the law not only provoked
998
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
but compelled a struggle between the sections,
for it threw between them the territory of Kansas,
as a prize for the more active. Slave state immi-
grants and free state immigrants were at once ar-
rayed against one another; and the struggle Con-
tinued for more than four years, marked by all
sorts of fraud and violence, and most of the char-
acteristics of civil war. (See KANSAS) . The
struggle, at any rate, cut away the dead material
from politics. It put an end to the whig party.
Many of its members endeavored to galvanize its
corpse, and reunite its southern and northern
portions, by introducing opposition to foreigners
as an issue paramount to slavery; but the attempt
was a failure. (See AMERICAN PARTY.) In 1856
the American party nominated presidential can-
didates, Fillmore and Donelson; and their defeat
put an end to their party. When the boards were
cleared, it was found that there were but two
rivals in politics: the democratic party, having a
national organization, strong in the South, and
weaker in the north; and the republican party,
sectional of necessity, and confined to the north.
(See DEMOCRATIC PARTY, W. ; REPUBLICAN
PARTY, I.) This division made the election of
1856 almost entirely sectional, Fremont, the re-
publican candidate, carrying most of the northern
states, and Buchanan, the democratic candidate,
carrying the southern states, with enough north-
ern states to elect him. (See ELECTORAL WOTES,
XVIII.) But Fremont's defeat was a Pyrrhic
victory for slavery, For the first time in our his-
tory an electoral vote had been cast for a candidate
pledged against the extension of slavery; and his
party had so nearly united the free states that he
was defeated only by the failure of Pennsylvania
and Illinois to vote for him. Both these states
were evidently drifting straight to the republican
party, and it was not difficult to forecast the result
of the next election, unless some great change of
policy took place in one section or the other. —
No such change took place: on the contrary, both
sections became more aggressive. The adminis-
tration, since 1852, had steadily sustained the
southern view, that the constitution protected
property, recognized slaves as property, and there-
fore protected slavery in the territories, while they
were territories. In 1857 the Supreme court also
sustained the southern view.
CASE.) This was the last re-enforcement which
the south could hope for, and it was a failure.
The dominant party of the north received it with
more wrath than respect, and answered it with an
increase of state laws to nullify or modify the
fugitive slave law. (See PERSONAL LIBERTY
LAws.) A few of the bolder advanced the skir-
mish line of the war which was to follow, and at-
tempted a fugitive slave migration on a grand
scale. (See BROWN, JOHN.) Kansas had achieved
her destiny, and had really become a free state;
there was little on the surface to fight about; and
yet the wider divergence of the sections was yearly
becoming more apparent. — During Buchanan’s
administration the first conflict took place with
(See DRED SCOTT ||
the Mormons in Utah, and they made a nominal
submission. (See MORMONs.) The admission of
California in 1850, Minnesota in 1858, and Oregon
in 1859, increased the number of states to 33; but
the increase was a new danger to slavery. The south
had always abandoned the control of the house
of representatives to the Superior numbers of the
north, while the admission of states had been cal-
culated as carefully as possible to secure to the
South an equal share in the Senate, without whose
assent no law could be passed. For the first sixty
years after 1789, each new free state was balanced
by a new slave state ; but this process had now
ceased to be possible. Texas was the last slave.
state that ever was admitted; and since its admis-
sion five new free states had come in, Kansas was
in readiness, and the germs of others had ap-
peared. If this majority of free states was to con-
tinue the previous drift to the republican party,
that party would soon control both houses of con-
gress, elect the president, and pass such laws as it
pleased. Nor was the supreme court safe from it:
if the natural change in its personnel by death
and appointments to fill vacancies should prove
too slow a process, a law to increase the number of
justices would quicken it and put the Dred Scott
decision at the mercy of a republican majority.
This was the underlying danger, seldom referred
to but often thought of, which compelled slavery
to strike for its life while it yet had time. — In
1860 the last of the old natural cords which held.
the Union together was snapped by the disruption
of the democratic party. (See DEMOCRATIC PAR-
TY, W.) There were now four parties in the po.
litical field, a northern democratic party, a South-
ern democratic party, a republican party, and a
“constitutional union” party. (See the names of
the two latter.) In the election the free states at
last became practically unanimous, and Abraham,
Lincoln was elected president by the republicans.
It should be noted, however, that in the congress.
which was to make the laws during the first half
of his administration, the republicans were in a
decided minority. Nevertheless, his election by
a union of the free states against the slave states.
offered a casus bell?, which southern leaders were
not disposed to neglect. Secession was begun by
South Carolina; the six other gulf states followed
at once ; and in February, 1861, the seceding
states formed a new government under the name
Of the “Confederate States of America.” The
forts, custom houses, mints, navy yards, and
public buildings of the United States within the
seceding states were seized, and the few regular
soldiers were compelled to surrender, except at
the forts near Key West, Fort Pickens, at Pensa-
cola, and Fort Sumter, in Charleston harbor; and
the two latter were closely invested. Buchanan.
was successful in keeping the peace until the end.
of his term ; but, when Lincoln was inaugurated,
the authority of the United States was suspended
in the gulf states, from South Carolina to Texas.
(See, in general, SECESSION; CONFERENCE, PEACE;
CONFEDERATE STATES; BUCHANAN.)—6. The Re-
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
999
bellion, 1861–5. Early in April, President Lincoln
decided to put an end to the almost successful
process of starving out Fort Sumter, and sent a
provision fleet to supply it. The batteries around
it at once opened fire on the fort, and it surren-
dered April 14. Then followed a call for troops
to suppress the rebellion, and a declaration of war
by the confederate states, early in May, against the
United States. The first attempt at “coercing ”
the seceding states was followed by the secession
of the southern tier of border states, North Caro-
lina, Tennessee and Arkansas, and of Virginia in
the northern tier. Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky
and Missouri refused to secede. (See BoBDER
STATES, and the names of the states.) These
secessions brought the area of the confederacy to
its maximum. — The financial history of the war
is fully given elsewhere. (See FINANCE, BANKING
IN THE UNITED STATES, INTERNAL REVENUE,
DISTILLED SPIRITs, INCOME TAx, TARIFF.) An
outline of its military and naval history is else-
where given. (See REBELLION, ALABAMA CLAIMS,
GENEVA AwarD.) Its political history is also
given elsewhere. (See ABOLITION, III.; EMANCI-
PATION PROCLAMATION ; HABEAS CORPUs; RE-
PUBLICAN PARTY, II.; DEMOCRATIC PARTY, WI.;
DRAFTs; RECONSTRUCTION, I.) At the close of
the rebellion no one was criminally punished for
participation in it. (See TREASON, AMNESTY.)
Almost the only civil victim was President Lin-
coln, who was assassinated just after the fall of
Richmond. (See his name). — Three states were
admitted during this period : Kansas in 1861,
West Virginia in 1863, and Nevada in 1864. —7.
Reconstruction, 1865–70. The war of the rebellion
and its result are usually regarded as the decisive
proofs of the stability of the American form of
government. And yet the five years following
were, for it, a still more crucial test. The forma-
tion of the confederacy made the theatre of war
pseudo foreign soil during the rebellion; and the
territory remaining under the direct control of the
|United States government was spared many of
those effects of war which are most evil to a re-
public. And those evils which were felt were met
with the reserve power arising from years of
peaceful constitutional discussion and long settled
habits of political thinking. The difficulties of
reconstructing the Union were to be met without
any such reserve power, and even with the counter-
acting influences of the passion of war and victory.
That the reconstruction should have been accom-
plished under such difficulties, and yet with so
little alteration of the spirit of the system, is the
most decisive proof that the American system is
impregnably fixed in the affections of the people.
It is easy to find blunders and contradictions in
the process: it is far harder to find any difference
in the status of New York and Mississippi, now
that the smoke has cleared away. — When the
war began, there was a general idea that any
seceding state might again secure its former priv-
ileges in the Union on the simple conditions of
ceasing hostilities and organizing a loyal state
government. Under this theory the so-called
“Pierpont " government of Virginia was recog-
nized as the government of the state; its consent
to the organization of the new state of West Vir-
ginia was accepted as valid; and its senators and
representatives were admitted to congress. As
the war grew warmer, and slavery was attacked,
the original simple plan of reconstruction was
necessarily modified. The executive, President
Lincoln, first, and afterward President Johnson,
only modified it so far as to require an assent to
the abolition of slavery as an additional requisite:
the repudiation of the ordinances of secession and
of the state war debts seems to have been required
only as an evidence of loyalty and good faith. In
congress there was a growing belief, after 1862,
that the national government, by legislation and
its execution, should supervise the process of re-
construction, fix the qualifications of voters, and
decide on its satisfactory completion. As this
belief grew stronger, the southern members ad-
mitted under the influence of the original theory
were excluded from congress; the reconstructed
governments of Virginia, Arkansas and Louisi-
ana were carefully ignored; and, as far as possible,
all evidences of the original theory were wiped
out. President Johnson still held fast to it, and
in 1865 the remaining states of the defunct con-
federacy were reconstructed under his leadership.
This reconstruction was still ignored by congress,
which proposed, officially and unofficially, terms
of its own. These became harder as the resistance
of the southern people, backed by President
Johnson and the democratic party of the north,
was overcome, until in 1867 negro suffrage and
the disfranchisement of leading confederates be-
came a part of the terms. Reconstruction was
then carried out under military supervision; most
of the seceding states were readmitted in 1868;
and in February, 1871, all the states were repre-
sented in congress, for the first time since Decem-
ber, 1860. (See, in general, RECONSTRUCTION.)
During this period three amendments to the con-
stitution were ratified (see CoNSTITUTION, III.);
Nebraska was admitted as a state ; and Alaska
was purchased. (See ANNEXATIONS, WI.) — Dur-
ing the struggle between congress and the presi-
dent over reconstruction, other acts were passed
over his veto (see FREEDMEN’s BUREAU, CIVIL
RIGHTS BILL, TENURE OF OFFICE, VETO, JOHN-
son); and the struggle ended in an unsuccessful
impeachment of the president in 1868. See IM-
PEACHMENTS, WI.) In the presidential election of
1868 the republicans were successful in electing
Gen. Grant. —8. The Republicans, 1870–84. The
congressional plan of reconstruction had undoubt-
edly had a view to the party advantage which
would come from a unanimous negro vote for the
republican party in the south. But, during Grant's
two terms of office, this advantage almost entirely
disappeared. One after another, the reconstructed
governments of the south passed under the con-
trol of the white voters, until the last of them,
South Carolina and Louisiana, followed the others
1000
DNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
in the opening months of the Hayes administra-
tion, in 1877, and the so-called “solid south '' was
formed. ' (See, in general, KU-KLUX KLAN; IN-
SURRECTION, II; RECONSTRUCTION, III.) As one
result of the struggle to maintain the reconstructed
governments, there was a secession from the re-
publican party in 1872, under the name of “lib-
eral republicans”; but its only immediate result
was the re-election of Grant, and the defeat of the
democrats and liberals. An indirect result was
the reinstatement of the democrats as a national
party, by their abandonment of their opposition
to the consequences of the war. (See LIBERAL
REPUBLICAN PARTY; DEMOCRATIC PARTY, WI.) —
The loose methods of dealing with large amounts,
which had grown up during the war, became
more noticeable as the expenses of the government
decreased, and the inevitable result, during Grant's
two terms, was a great crop of public scandals.
(See CRăDIT Molfi LIER ; WHISKY RING ; IM-
PEACHMENTS, VII. ; SALARY GRAB.) An effort
was made to reform the civil service, but it was a
failure for the time. (See CrVIL SERVICE RE-
FoEM.) In 1873 a period of financial depression
set in; it continued for several years, and had con-
siderable influence on politics. It helped to give
the democrats a majority in the house of repre-
sentatives which met in 1875, and it brought to
the surface of politics a struggle between “hard
money ’’ and “soft money,” between a resump-
tion of specie payments and a continuance of
paper emissions. The republican party was first
brought under control, and, before it lost the house
of representatives in 1875, it had passed an act to
resume specie payments Jan. 1, 1879. The dem-
Ocrats opposed the act, and, in their national plat-
form of 1876, demanded its repeal on the ground
that it was premature and an impediment to re-
sumption. A third party grew up rapidly, which
opposed resumption altogether. (See GREENBACK
PARTY.) In spite of the opposition, the repub-
lican Support of the act was successful, and re-
sumption took place on the date assigned. — In
foreign affairs, the great interest of Grant's two
terms was in the treaty of Washington of 1871.
It submitted to arbitration the various unsettled
questions pending between the United States and
Great Britain. (See ALABAMA CLAIMS; GENEVA
ARBITRATION; TREATIES, FISHERY; NoFTHWEST
BOUNDARY.) There was an unsuccessful attempt
to annex San Domingo. (See SAN DOMINGO.) In
October, 1873, a Spanish vessel captured the
“Wirginius,” which was carrying recruits and
Supplies to the insurgents in Cuba, and a number
of those on board were shot. For a time there
was a probability of war, for the “Virginius”
was sailing under the United States flag; but it
was shown clearly that she had forfeited her right
to carry it. — Indian affairs were much disturbed.
An attempt in 1873 to remove the little tribe of
Modocs from Southern Oregon to a reservation
was only successful after a war which was made
difficult by the character of the country, a region of
extinct volcanoes, abounding in hiding places. In
United States coins.
1876 the Sioux Indians in Montana left their agen-
cies: Gen. Custer attacked the whole tribe with but
five companies, and was killed with his whole
party. The Sioux were then driven into British
America. — The presidential election of 1876 fell
into complete confusion, but ended in the success
of the republicans, and the inauguration of Presi-
dent Hayes. (See DISPUTED ELECTIONs, IV.;
RETURNING BOARDS ; ELECTORAL COMMISSION;
ELECTORs.) He withdrew the troops which had
been supporting the reconstructed governments of
Louisiana and South Carolina, and these also
passed under the control of the white voters. The
whole administration was a welcome period of
unwonted calm in politics. Its only serious breaks
were the attempts of the democratic majority in
the house to repeal some of the war legislation
(see RIDERs, VETO), and the transfer of public
interest to silver. An act of 1870 had made the
bonds of the United States payable in “coin”;
and, as silver was falling in price, the act of Feb.
12, 1873, dropped the silver dollar from the list of
In 1878 a general vote of
both parties passed the “Bland silver bill ” over
the veto. It made the silver dollar a legal tender
for public and private debts, and directed its re-
coinage at the rate of not less than $2,000,000 a
month. (See COINAGE, PARIS MONETARY CON-
FERENCE.) In the close of this and the beginning
of the following terms the national debt was re-
funded, its term lengthened, and its interest
charges largely decreased. (See FINANCE.) — In
the presidential election of 1880 the republicans
were successful, and Garfield was elected presi-
dent. His death, in September, 1881, left his
office to President Arthur. (See both names, and
ExECUTIVE, IV.) In thc domestic politics of the
country the controlling interest of his term has
centred upon the tariff. (See that article.) There
have also been efforts in various southern States to
form third parties, under various names, in which
both whites and blacks could join, in order to
break up the “color line” in politics. These
have been supported by the administration, but
have not been successful, except in Virginia, and,
in part, in Tennessee. (See those states.) In the
inevitable reform of the civil service a great step
in advance has been taken, and for the first time
the public sentiment of the country has supported
it strongly (See SPOTLs SYSTEM, REMOVALS.)—
In foreign affairs, Chinese immigration has been
restricted in accordance with the terms of a treaty
negotiated under the preceding administration.
(See CHINESE IMMIGRATION.) The proposed cut-
ting of a canal through the isthmus of Panama,
under French control, brought up the idea that
the Monroe doctrine (see that article) required the
control of the canal to be in the United States.
The Garfield administration began a diplomatic
correspondence to that end with Great Britain,
which was dropped by its successor. Peru had
begun a war against Chili, and had been complete-
ly conquered; and the United States interfered to
prevent the extreme spoliation of the conquered
|UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
1001
nation. But, as Chili refused to yield to moral
force, and the United States was not disposed to
use physical force, the interference came to noth-
ing. There was some fear of difficulty with Great
Britain on the question of extradition, which
had long been troublesome.
There had been for years an enormous immigra-
tion from Ireland to the United States.
IGRATION.) A very large part of it was the real
or imagined result of former English misgovern-
ment in Ireland. As might have been expected,
(See ExTRADITION.)
(See EM-
this class of immigrants gave a warm support to
revolutionary movements in Ireland, but there
was no remedy for it, since their support did not
pass beyond legitimate bounds. The further ques-
tion whether refugees charged with violence are
subject to extradition, or are insured against it by
the political purpose and character of their acts, has
not yet been formally and officially raised (1884).
— (See, in general, the names of the various per-
sons and political parties mentioned ; ADMINIS-
TRATIONS, for the presidents, vice-presidents and

1824. 1828. 1832. 1836. 1840.
STATES.
Adams. Jackson. Cra’fa. Clay. ||Jackson. Adams.]]Jackson. Clay. ||V. Buren|Whigs." || Harrison|V. Puren. Birn'
[Dem.] [N. Rep.]|| [Dem.] [N. Rép.]|| [Dem.] [Whig.] . [Dem.) | [ Ab."
Alabama--- 2,416 9,443 | 1,680 67 || 17,138 1,938 ||--------|------- +|| 19,068 || 15,637 28,47 33,991 ||------
Arkansas --|--------|--------|-------|-------|--- ----|--------|--------|-------- 2,400 1,238 5,160 6,049 |------
Connecticut || 7,587 -------- 1,978 |------- 4,448 || 13,829 || 11,269 || 17,755 || 19,234 18,466 31,601 25,296 174
Delaware -- - Legislature. 4,349 4,769 4,110 4,276 4,155 4,738 5,967 4,884 ||------
Georgia.---- Legislature. 18,709 ||-------- 20,750 ||-------- 22,126 24,930 40,261 || 31,933 ||------
Illinois ---- 1,542 1,901 219 | 1,047 6,763 1,581 || 14,147 5,429 || 18,097 || 14.983 45,537 47,476 149
Indiana ---- 3,095 7,343|------- 5,315 || 22,237 || 17,052 || 31,552 | 15,472 || 32,480 || 41,281 65,302 51,695 || ------
ICentucky--|-------. 6,458 |------- 16,782 || 39,0 31,17 36,247 || 43,396 || 33,435 | 36,955 58,489 32,616 ... ----
Louisiana -- Legislature. 4,605 || 4,097 4,049 || 2,528 3,653 3,383 11,297 7,617 |------
Maine ----- 6,870 2,880 -------|------- 13,927 | 20,773 || 33,291 27,204 || 22,300 15,239 46,612 || 46,201 194
Maryland --|| 14,632 14,523 3,646 695 || 24,578 25,759 || 19,156 | 19,160 || 22,167 25,852 33,528 28,752 || ------
Mass. ------|| 30,687 -------- 6,616 |------- 6,019 29,836 4,545 || 33,003 || 33,501 || 41,093 72,874 51,948 || 1,621
Michigan --|--------|--------|-------|-------|--------|--------|--------|-------- 7,360 4,000 22,933 21,098 321
Mississippi- 1,694 3,234 119 |------- 6,763 1,581 5,919 |-------- 9,979 9,688 19,518 16,995 |.-----
Missouri--- 311 987 | - - - - - - - 1,401 8,232 3,422 5,192.É.-------- 10,995 8,337 22,972 29,760 | -- - - - -
N. Hamp. -- 4,107 643 |-------|------- 20,692 24,076 || 25,486 || 19,010 || 18,722 6,228 26,158 32,67 126
TN. Jersey –- 9,110 | 10,985 || 1,196 ||------- 21,950 23,758 || 23,856 23,393 || 26,347 26,892 33,351 || 31,034 69
TNew York-- Legislature, 140,763 | 135,413 || 168,497 | 154,896 || 166,815 138,543 || 225,817 | 212,519 2,798
N. Carolina-il-------- 20,415 || 15,621 ------- 37,857 | 13,91 ,862 4,563 || 26,910 ,626 46,376 34,218 |- - - - - -
Ohio ------- 12,280 18,457 ||------- 19,255 || 67,597 || 63,396 || 81.246 76,539 || 96,948 || 105,405 || 148,157 | 124,782 903
Penn.-----. 5,440 || 36,100 || 4,206 | 1,609 || 101,652 50.848 || 90,983 || 56,716 || 91,475 | 87,111 || 144,021 143,676 343
Rhode Isl’d 2,145 |-------- 200 !------- 821 2,754 2,126 2,810 2,904 2,710 5,278 3,301 42
S. Carolina- ,\ Legislature. Legislature. Legislature. Legislature. Legislature.
Tennessee - 2.6 2013; 312 ------- 44,090 2,240 || 28,740 1,436 || 26,120 | 35,962 60,391 48,289 |------
Vermont- - - - Legislature. 8,205 24,784 7,870 11,152 || 14,037 20,991 32,445 18,009 319
Virginia --- 3,189 2,861 3 416 || 26,752 | 12,101 || 33,609 || 11,451 || 30,261 || 23,368 42,501 43,893 || ------
Total.----|| 105,321 155,872 || 44,282 |46,587 || 647,231 509,097 || 687,502 || 530,189 || 761,549 | 736,656 ||1,275,017|1,128,702 || 7,059
* For Harrison, Webster, White, and others. f Unanimous for Jackson. f Majority.
1844. 1848. 1852. 1856.
STATES.
PO1R. Clay. , |Birney. Tººf. Ca,SS. W. Buren | Pierce. Scott. Hale, |Buchan 'n Fremont. Fillmore
[Dem l [Whig.] tº [Wh.] [Dem.] [F. S.] |Dem.] [Wh.] [F. S.] [Dem.] [Rep.] [Am..]
Alabama--- 37,740 26,084 ||------- 30,482 31,363 |-------- 26,881 15,038 |-------- 46,739 ||--------- 28,552
Arkansas -- 9,546 ,504 ||------- ,588 ,300 -------- 12,173 ,404 ||-------- 21,910 --------- 10,787
9alifornia--|---------|---------|-------|---------|---------|-------- 40,626 35,407 100 53,365 20,691 36,165
Connecticut 29,841 32,832 1,943 30,314 27,046 5,005 33,249 30,357 3,160. 34,995 42,715 2,615
Lelaware -- ,996 6,278 ||------- ,421 ,89 80 ,318 ,293 62 8,004 08 6,175
Florida.----|---------|---------|------- 3,116 1,847 -------- 4,318 2,875 |-------- 6,358 |------...-- 4,833
Georgia --- 44,177 42,100 ||------- 47,544 || 44,802 |-------- 34,705 16,660 -------. 56,578 |- - - - - - - - - 42,228
Illinois.----- 57,920 45,528 3,570 53,947 56,300 15,774 80,597 64,934 9,966 || 105,348 96,189 7,444
Indiana --- 70,181 67,867 2,106 69,907 74,745 ,100 95,340 80,901 6,929 || 118,670 94,375 22,386
Iowa-------|---------|---------|------ 11,084 12,093 1,126 17,763 15,856 1,604 36,170 43,954 ,180
Kentucky -- 51,988 61,255 |------- 67,141 49,720 |------. 53,806 57,068 265 74,642 314 || 67,416
Louisiana-- 13,782 13,083 |------- 18,217 15,370 - - - - - - - - 18,647 17,255 |-------- 22,164 |--------- 20,709
Maine------ 45,719 34,378 4,836 35,125 39,880 | 12,096 41,609 32,543 8,030 39,080 67,379 ,325
Maryland -- 32,676 35,984 |------- 37,702 34,528 125 40,020 35,066 54 39,115 281 47,460
TMass. -----. 52,846 67,418 10,860 61,070 35,281 38,058 44,569 52,683 28,023 39,240 108,190 | 19,626
Michigan :- 27,759 24,337 3,632 23,940 30,687 10,389 41,842 33,859 7,237 52,136 71,762 1,660
Mississippi- 25,126 19,206 ||------- 25,922 26,537 -------- 26,876 17,548 ||-------- 85,446 ||--------- 24,195
Missouri - - - 41,369 31,251 |------- 32,671 40,077 |-------- 38,353 29,984 |-------- 58,164 ||--------- 48,524
N. Hamp. -- 27,160 17,866 4,161 14,781 27,763 7,560 29,997 16,147 6,695 32,789 38,345 422
New Jersey 37,49 38,318 131 40,01 36,90 829 44,305 38,556 350 46,943 28,338 24,115
New York. 237,588 232,482 | 15,812 || 218,603 || 114,318 || 120,510 || 262,083 || 234,882 || 25,329 || 195,878 276,007 || 124,604
N. Carolina- 39,287 43,232 ||------- 43,550 34,869 |-------- 39,744 39,05 5 ,246 |--------- 36,886
Ohio ------- 149,117 | 155,057 | 8,050 || 138,630 | 154,775 || 35,354 || 169,220 | 152,526 31,682 || 170,874 | 187,497 || 28,126
Penn.------ 167,535 | 161,203 || 3,138|| 185,513 || 171,176 | 11,263 || 198,568 179,174 8,525 || 230,710 || 147,510 | 82,175
Rhode Isl’d. 4,867 7,322 107 6,779 3,646 730 8,735 7,626 644 6,680 11,467 1,675
S. Carolina- egislature. L|egislature. Legislature. Legislature.
Tennessee-- 59,917 0,030 ------- 64,705 3 * ~ * 1 - - - - - - - - 57,018 8,898 |-------- 73,638 ||--------- 66,178.
Texas------|---------|--------- as sº gº sº 4,509 || 10,668 |-------- 13,552 ,995 ||-------- 31,169 |--------. 15,639
Vermont--- 18,041 26,770 3,954 23,122 10,948 || 13,837 13,044 22,173 8,621 10,569 39,561 545
Virginia.--- 49,570 43,677 ------- 5,124 46,586 * 73,858 58,572 ||-------- 89,706 291 | 60,310
Wisconsin -|---------|---------|------- 13,747 15,001 || 10,418 33,658 22,240 8,814 52,843 66,000 579
Total----||1,337,243 |1,299,062 62,300 ||1,360,099 |1,220,544 |291,263 ||1,386,578 (1,601,474 156,149 ||1,838,169 (1,341,264 | 874,534



1002 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

1860. 1864. 1868.
STATES.
Lincoln. Douglas. |Breckin’ge Bell Lincoln. | McClellan. Grant. Seymour.
[Rep.] [Dem.] [Dem. [Con. U.] [Rep.] em.] [Rep.] €111.
Alabama ------------------------|----------- 13,651 48,831 27,825 ||-----------|----------- 76,366 72,088
Arkºnsas -----------------------|----------- 5,227 28,732 20,094 ||----------- tº º º sº º gº ºn 22,112 19,078
Qalifornia----------------------- 39,173 38,516 34,334 6,817 62,134 43,841 54,583 54,077
Connecticut--------------------- 43,692 15,522 14,641 3,291 44,691 42,285 50,995, 47,952
Delaware ----------------------- 3,815 1,023 7,347 3,864 8,155 8,767 7,623 10,980
Florida -------------------------|----------- 367 8,543 5,437 ||-----------|-----------|----------|----------
Georgia -------------------------|----------- 11,590 51,889 42,886 ||-----------|----------- 57,134 102,722.
Illinois-------------------------- 172,161 160,215 2,404 ,913 189,496 || 158,730 || 250,303 || 199143
Indiana ------------------------- 139,033 115,509 12,295 5,306 150,442 130,233 176,548 166,980
Iowa---------------------------- 70,409 55,111 1,048 1,763 89,075 49,596 || 120,399 74,040
Kansas--------------------------|-----------|-----------|---------|---------- 16,441 3,691 31,048 13,990
Kentucky----------------------- 1,364 25,651 53,143 | 66,058 27,786 64,301 39,566 115,890
Polisiana ----------------------|----------- 7,625 22,681 20,204 ||-----------|----------- 33,263 80,225
810°--------------------------- 62,811 26,693 6,368 2,046 61,803 44,211 70,493 3.
Maryland ----------------------- 2,294 5,966 42,482 41,760 40,153 32,739 30,438 62,357
Massachusetts ------------------ 106,533. 34,372 5,939 22,331 126,742 48,745 136,477 59,408
Michigan ----------------------- 88,480 65,057 805 405 91,521 4,604 128,550 97,069
Minnesota.---------------------- 22,069 11,920 748 62 25,060 17,375 43,545 28,075
Mississippi----------------------|----------- 3,283 40,797 *,040 ||-----------|-----------|----------|----------
Missouri------------------------ 17,028 58,801 || 31,317 | 58,372 72,750 31,678 86,860 65,628
Webraska -----------------------|-----------|----------|----------|----------|-----------|---------. 9,729 ,439
Mevada -------------------------|-----------|-----------|----------|---------- 9,826 6,594 6,480 5,218
New Hampshire----------------- 37,519 25,881 2,112 441 36,400 32,871 38,191 31,224 .
New Jersey--------------------- 58,324 69,801 |----------|---------- 60,723 ,024 80,131 83,001
New York---------------------- 362,646 || 312,510 |----------|---------- 368,735 361,986 || 419,883 429,883
North Carolina------------------|----------. !,701 48,339 44,990 ||-----------|----------- 96,769 84,601
hio ---------------------------- 231,610 187,232 1,405 12,194 265,154 205,568 0, 238,606
Oregon-------------------------- 5,270 ,95 3,006 183 9,88 8,457 10,961 11,125
Pennsylvania. ------------------- 268,030 16,765 | 178,871 12,776 296,391 276,316 342,280 313,382
Rhode Island.------------------- 12, 7,707 ----------|---------- 13,692 8, 12,993 6,548
South Carolina------------------ Legislature. . . . . ||-----------|----------- 62,301 45,237
Tennessee-----------------------|----...------ 11,350 64,709 69,274 ||-----------|----------- 56,628 26,129
Texas---------------------------|-----------|----------- 47,548 5,438 ||-----------|-----------|------ ----------
Vermont------------------------ 33,808 6,849 218 1,969 42,419 13,321 44,167 12,045
Virginia ----------------------- 1,929 16,290 74,323 74,681 ||-----------|------- || ----------|----------
West Virginia-------------------|-----------|-----------|----------|---------- 23,152 10,438 29,175 20,306
Wisconsin ---------------------- 86,110 65,021 888 101 83,458 3 108,857 84,707
Total.----------------------- 1,866,352 | 1,375,157 | 845,763 589,581 || 2,216,067 | 1,808,725 || 3,015,071 2,709,613
1872.% 1876.3 1880.*
STATES. Grant. || Greeley. O’C IH Tild C Garfield. | Hancock. Weaver
I’a.1115. reeley. °COnor. a yeS ilden. OO pe.I.". e 8,IlCOCK. €8,Ver,
[Rep.] §: [Dem.] É. [Dem.] § [Rep.] [Dem.] [Gbk.]
Alabama------------------------ 90,272 79,444 |-------- 68,230 102,002 ||-------- 56,178 90,687 4,642
Arkansas ----------------------- 41,373 37,927 -------- 38,669 58,071 289 41,661 60,489 4,079
California----------------------- 54,020 40,718 1,068 79,269 76,465 47 80,348 80,426 3,392
Colorado------------------------|----------|----------|-------- Legislature. 27,450 24,647 1,435
Connecticut--------------------- 50,638 45,880 204 59,034 1,934 774 67,073 64,417 868
Delaware ----------------------- 11,115 10,206 487 10,752 13,381 |-------- 14,150 15,183 ||--------
Florida.------------------------- 17,763 15,427 -------- 23,849t| 22,923 |-------- 23,654 27,964 |--------
Georgia.------------------------- 62,550 76,356 || 4, 0,446 | 130,088 |-------- 2,648 102,522 481
Illinois-------------------------- 1,944 184,938 3,058 || 278,232 258,601 || 17,283 || 318,037 277,321 26,358
Indiana ------------------------- 186,147 | 163,632 1,417 || 208,011 213,526 || 9,533 || 232,164 225,528 12,986
Iowa--------------------------- 131,566 Y1,196 || 2,221 || 171,327 | 112,099 || 9,001 || 183,904 || 105,845 32,327
Kansas ------------------------- 67,048 32,970 596 78,322 37,902 || 7,776 || 121,520 59,789 | 19,710
Kentucky----------------------- 88,766 99,995 || 2,374 97,156 || 159,690 | 1,944 || 104,550 147,999 || 11,498
Louisiana----------------------- 71,663 57,029 -------- 75,135+ ,508 |-------- 37,994 65,310 439
Maine--------------------------- 61,422 29,087 |-----. -- ,300 49,823 663 74,039 65,171 4,408
Maryland ----------------------- 66,760 67,687 19 71,981 91,780 33 78,515 93,706 818
Massachusetts ------------------ 133,472 59,260 |-------- 150,063 108,777 779 || 165,205 || 111,960 4,548
Michigan ----------------------- 138,455 78.355 2,861 || 166,534 || 141,095 9,060 || 185,190 131,300 || 34,795
Minnesota ---------------------- 55,117 34,423 ||-------- 72,962 8,799 || 2,311 93,903 53,315 3,267
Mississippi--------------------- 82,175 47,288 |-------- 52,605 || 112,173 |---. ---- 34.854 75,750 5,797
Missouri------------------------ 119,196 3 2,429 || 145,025 | 203,077 | 3,498 || 153,567 208,609 || 35,045
Nebraska ----------------------- 18,329 7,812 ||-------- 31,916 17,554 || 2,320 4,979 28,523 3,853
Nevada ------------------------- 8,413 6,236 |-------- 10,383 ,308 ||-------- 8,732 9,611 |--------
New Hampshire----------------- 37,168 31,424 100 41,539 38,509 76 44,852 40,794 528
New Jersey--------------------- 91,656 76,456 630 || 103,517 | 115,962 712 || 120,555 | 123,565 2,617
New York----------------------- 440,736 || 387,281 1,454 || 489,207 || 521,949 | 1,987 || 555,544 || 534,511 | 12,373
North Carolina------------------ 94,769 70,094 |-------- 108,417 | 125,427 |-------- 115,878 124,204 1,136
io---------------------------- 281,852 244,321 | 1,163 || 330,698 || 323,182 3,057 || 375,048 || 340,821 6,456
Oregon-------------------------- 11,819 7,730 572 15,206 14,149 510 20,619 19,948 249
Pennsylvania ------------------- 349,589 || 212,041 -------- 384.122 || 366,158 || 7,187 || 444,704 || 407,428 20,668
Rhode Island-------------------- 13,665 ,329 |-------- 15,787 10,712 68 18,195 10,779 236
South Carolina------------------ 72,290 22,703 187 91,870 90,906 ||-------- 58,071 || 112,312 566
Tennessee----------------------- 85,655 94,391 |-------- 89,566 133,166 -------- 107,677 | 128,191 5,916
Texas--------------------------- 47,406 6,500 2,499 44,800 | 104,755 |-------- 57,845 156,228 27,405
Vermont------------------------ 41,481 10,927 593 23,838 20,254 |-------- 45,090 18,181 1,212
Virginia------------------------- 93,468 91,654 42 95,558 || 139,670 ||------- 84,020 | 127,976 139
West Virginia.------------------- 32,315 29,451 600 42,698 56,455 1,373 46,243 57,391 9,079
Wisconsin ---------------------- 104,997 86,477 834 || 130,668 123,927 | 1,509 || 144,397 || 114,634 7,980
Total----------------------- 3,597,070 2,834,079 29,408 || 4,033,950 4,284,757 | 81,740 || 4,449,053 4,442,035 307,306
* Scattering: (1872) 5,608; (1876) 12,158; (1880) 12,576.
t Returning Board count. (See Returning Boards.)
|UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
1003
cabinet officers; CONGRESS, SESSIONS OF, for the
duration of congresses, the speakers of the house,
and their parties; JUDICLARY, II., for justices of
the Supreme courts; the names of the various
states for their political leaders; ELECTORAL
VOTES.)— Presidential electors are chosen in such
manner as the legislature of each state shall direct.
Until about 1824 the general rule was that elect-
ors were chosen directly by the state legislatures,
and choice by popular vote was exceptional.
Since 1824 choice by popular vote has been the
rule, except in South Carolina until 1868. (See
ELECTORs.) The electoral votes for all the elec-
tions are elsewhere given. (See ELECTORAL
VOTES.) The popular votes at the elections since
1824 are given in the tables shown on pages 1001,
1002. In each election the name of the success-
ful candidate for president is placed first. (For
full names, and names of candidates for vice-pres-
ident, see the names of the parties under the year.)
— III. THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED
STATES. — 1. General Character of the Union.
The Union is an anomaly in at least one respect :
it is the only great nation in which the location of
sovereign power is, and has always been, a fairly
disputed point. No one has any doubt as to the
location of sovereign power in Russia, France or
Great Britain; but in regard to the United States
there are almost as many opinions as there are
commentators. There is a general agreement that
sovereign power is in “the people of the United
States,” by whose will the constitution, which
governs the government, was established; but
this only pushes back the difficulty one step fur-
ther to an equally general disagreement about this
“people of the United States.” In this general
disagreement there are three great divisions of
opinion, as follows: 1st. The people of the United
States is the people of the several states, each hav-
ing sovereign control over its own life and action,
its entrance to the Union, its continuance therein,
and its departure therefrom. (See STATE Sover-
EIGNTY, and the authorities under it.) This would
make the Union continuously voluntary on the
part of each state, and would make each state the
sovereign and protector not only of its own life,
but of the life of the Union within its borders.
Tt is contradicted by the facts of our history, and
fell at the first attempt to enforce it in practice.
(See SECESSION.) 2d. The people of the United
States is the people of the several states, holding
sovereignty Only as a unit, the people of those
states which voluntarily remain united (including
the doctrine of possible state-lapse); and the pos-
session of Sovereignty by the people as a mass is
nothing but an hypothesis, and has no political
consequences whatever, except as some person or
persons may succeed in using sovereign power in
the name of such people. This has been best elab-
orated by J. C. Hurd, as cited below. It is ob-
jectionable because, as Mr. Hurd not only ack-
nowledges, but maintains, it makes the national
government really sovereign. “Sovereign gov-
ernments’ are the verythings to escape which the
American people was organized; and if it should
ever unwittingly become subject to one, it would
very soon provide a new means of escape. 8d.
The people of the United States is the national
people, organized by its own general will into a
nation, and divided by its own general will into
states. The existence of nation and states alike is
bottomed on the same foundation, the ultimate
sovereignty of the whole people, which has as yet
shown itself only in this attitude of protection.
In other respects it rules only through its minis-
ters, the state and national governments; and no
crisis has yet proved too great to be met through
one or other of these agencies. This view has been
best elaborated by Jameson, as cited below. The
objection to it is that the national people has never
yet acted politically as a unit, but always under
the state formation. Nevertheless, it has been
adopted in this series of articles as apparently the
least objectionable of all. If it is correct, the sov-
ereign power of the United States depends for its
strength upon its unanimity, and is least palpable
when it is most nearly unanimous, and, conse-
quently, strongest. As it is now practically unan-
imous on the questions of state and national ex-
istence, it is wholly impalpable, and agencies or,
ministers only are visible. Of course, so distant a
sovereignty will appear to many to be worse than
no sovereignty at all; but it seems to the writer
that its distance is just the reason that the Amer-
ican people has always been satisfied with it, and
that there is as yet no symptom of a desire to re-
place king Log by king Stork. At any rate, enough
has been said to call attention to one of the most
curious features of the American Union. (See
STATE Sover EIGNTY, NATION.) — In its first form
the government of the United Colonies, or United
States, was revolutionary, depending for its powers
solely on the general obedience of the national
people. It received no powers from state govern-
ments or state peoples, and asked for none; on the
contrary, the states were at first consciously and
confessedly dependent on it even for their exist-
ence and defense. As the danger from the enemy
became less urgent, the authority of the revolu-
tionary government waned, and that of the state
legislatures increased, until they assumed the un-
granted power to frame a national government by
the articles of confederation. As no such power
had been granted to them by their state peoples, it
also could have been valid only by the general
acquiescence of the national people in the Surren-
der of power by their revolutionary government.
The same objection holds good to the convention
of 1787, as bottomed on the sovereign power of
the states, either separately or collectively: there
was no warrant in any state constitution or in the
articles of confederation for the selection of dele-
gates by the state legislatures, or for the action of
congress in standing sponsor to the convention.
It seems to have represented only the universal,
and, consequently, sovereign, will of the people of
the whole country, that the form of government
should be changed, but that the change should
1004
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
impair state rights as little as possible. Even in
the ratifications, the same quiet pressure of the
national will was the controlling factor. Without
it, if the consideration and decision of each state
had really been entirely autonomous, as it pur-
ported to be, the present constitution would never
have gone into effect, for it would have been re-
jected by at least six states, Rhode Island, North
Carolina, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New
York and Virginia. All these states ratified only
in deference to the general will, as represented by
heavy minorities in their own states and heavy
majorities in the others. In this case, as in all
others, the sovereign power avoided the use, or
suggestion, of force, and only materialized itself
So far as was absolutely necessary. If the con-
stitution had been rejected, the sovereign power
would have materialized itself further; very few
men at the time doubted that, or wished to make
the step necessary. That the states yielded to this
sovereign power without the employment of force
is no impeachment of the power of the sovereign.
If that were so, every peaceful presidential elec-
tion would make the sovereign power more doubt-
ful. (See CONGRESS, CONTINENTAL; CONFED-
ERATION, ARTICLES OF; CONVENTION OF 1787;
CoNSTITUTION ; STATE SovieFEIGNTY.) — Under
this third form of government, the constitution of
the United States, the country still continues. It
restricts the power of the states in many points,
and it grants many powers to the national govern-
ment; and by one of the amendments, but still
more by the whole spirit of the instrument, it
maintains the states in all powers not forbidden,
and forbids to the national government the exer-
cise of all powers not granted by it. (See CoN-
STRUCTION.) The operation of its provision for
admitting new states, with the successive acqui-
sitions of new territory, has given the country for
which the constitution was made its present shape.
There are now (1883) thirty-eight states, eight or-
ganized territories, two unorganized territories,
and a federal district. The states are self-govern-
ing commonwealths in all points reserved to them
by the federal constitution, and their state govern-
ments take cognizance of everything not forbid-
den to them by the federal constitution or by their
state constitutions. The territories are theoret-
ically in absolute subjection to the federal govern-
ment; but the consistent policy of the federal
government has always been to grant self-govern-
ment to them as rapidly as possible, in order to
encourage their conversion into states. (See TER-
BITORIES; ANNEXATIONs; and the names and ad-
missions of the states under CoNSTITUTION, I.)—
All through the state and territorial organizations
runs the national Organization, acting on individ-
uals, however, not on states, with the exception
of the judicial veto referred to hereafter. It is
limited by the oath of its members to respect and
obey the federal constitution, by the power of the
judiciary to nullify or veto those of its acts which
are unwarranted by the constitution, and by the
general disposition of the people to punish by the
ballot any unwarranted assumption of power. The
lastis incomparably the most important Safeguard,
without which the others would be worthless; and
it is the only form in which the ultimate sov-
ereignty of the United States exhibits itself. At-
tempts have been made to substitute for it the
will of an individual state, but they have been
failures (see NULLIFICATION); and it is now set-
tled that the individual owes his privileges as a
state citizen to the will of the whole people, not
to that of his state. If the federal government
assumes ungranted powers, its acts are void.
The final decision upon their validity is entrusted
to the Supreme court in matters on which a case
can be made up; in other matters, the decision is
left to the voters in the presidential and congres-
sional elections. It is, therefore, but partly true,
that the supreme court is the arbiter of disputed
constitutional questions. If a state government
assumes ungranted powers, or if a state people
in forming a state constitution, insert a provision
in conflict with the federal constitution, these acts
are also void; but in these cases the supreme court
is the sole final arbiter. (See JUDICIARY.)— As a
general rule, then, it must be admitted that the
state must yield, in a conflict with the federal gov-
ernment, when the federal judiciary has finally
pronounced against her, and that the state is Sub-
ordinate, though not subject. But every un-
prejudiced observer must admit, that, in any such
conflict, the state has a greater prospect of success
than the federal government, even in the federal
supreme court. (See State Rights, under STATE
Sover EIGNTY.) Even in the matter of the last
two amendments to the federal constitution, care-
fully drawn for the express purpose of curbing
state action, the federal judiciary in 1883 is inter-
preting them far more favorably to the states
than any state court would have done in 1873. If
the state should choose to carry the conflict further,
into forcible resistance, her citizens are bound to
take sides against her, and with the more direct
representative of the general will. (See TREASON,
ALLEGIANCE.) — Division of Powers. The federal
government has been proved by experience to be
an exceedingly simple and effective piece of maº
chinery. It has served as a model for the consti-
tutions of new states, and the constitutions of the
original states have been so changed as to follow
it. Its leading characteristic is its careful division
of the powers of government into three depart-
ments. The power of legislation is given to two
houses, co-ordinate in rank and power, but with
different constituencies. The executive power is
given to a single person, with a limited veto on
the legislative: he is responsible to the legislative
department by impeachment, but is not elected
by it. The power to interpret the laws, and to
veto such as are in conflict with the will of the
people, as expressed in the constitution, is given
to an organized judiciary. Most of the state Con-
stitutions follow this division of powers exactly,
except for their restrictions on the powers of the
legislative. (See RIDERs.) Where they differ
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
1005
from it, it is mainly on three points : the election
of the executive by the legislative, in default of a
choice by popular vote; the greater or less limita-
tion of the executive veto power (see VETO); or
the election of judges by popular vote or by the
legislative, and for a term of years, while the fed-
eral judges hold by appointment of the executive,
and during good behavior. (See JUDICIARY,
ELECTIVE ; STATE CONSTITUTIONS.) — Amend-
ments. Amendments are made in the same man-
ner as the original constitution, by convention
and ratification (see this subject fully treated under
CoNVENTION, CoNSTITUTIONAL); or by proposi-
tion of congress and ratification by three-fourths
of the state legislatures. In the states the same is
true, except that the proposition is by the legisla-
ture or convention, and the ratification is by pop-
ular vote. There is no point in the state constitu-
tions in which amendment is forbidden, and but
one (Art. W.) in the federal constitution: “no state,
without its consent, shall be deprived of its equal
suffrage in the senate.” (See also COMPROMISEs,
III., W.I.) Its terms forbid the passage of any
amendment to strike out this prohibition. It must
be confessed that the terms of the articles of con-
federation, forbidding any amendment not ratified
by all the state legislatures, were still more sweep-
ing, and yet that a way was found to override
their letter and spirit by the adoption of the
constitution. But the single prohibition of the
constitution has a far stronger safeguard in the
universal will that it shall be maintained. (See,
for amendments ratified and for amendments pro-
posed, CoNSTITUTION, III.) — Citizenship. From
the beginning the constitution took citizens as
it found them, made so by state laws, and only
interfered to secure to the citizens of each state
the privileges and immunities of citizens in the
other states. It was and is possible, for example,
for a person who has only declared his intention
to become naturalized, to be a state citizen by
state laws, and thus to vote at congressional
and presidential elections. When the abolition
of slavery had been accomplished, the fourteenth
and fifteenth amendments were made parts of
the constitution. There was at first a strong
disposition to take them as having transferred
from the states to the federal government the
whole control of citizenship and suffrage. But
the authoritative interpretation of them by the
supreme court has since shown that they are ex-
actly in the line of the original interference of the
constitution; that they are restrictive, not con-
structive; and that they are to prevent unjust dis-
crimination by the state, not to assume the state's
former functions. (For a full discussion of this
subject, see NATIONALITY, LAW OF; SUFFRAGE.)
—2. The Federal Legislative; the Congress. Con-
gress, or “the congress,” as it is properly called,
is made up of two houses, the house of represent-
atives and the senate. *The house of representa-
tives has (1883–5) 325 members, elected by the
states in proportion to population. (See APPOR-
TIONMENT.) The senate has 76 members, two
from each state. Laws must be passed by a ma-
jority vote of both houses, and approved by the
president, though the disapproval of the latter may
be overridden by a two-thirds vote of both houses.
(See VETO.) The legislative powers of congress
are considered elsewhere. (See CoNGRESS, Pow-
ERS OF.) The house has the sole power to prefer,
and the Senate to try, impeachments. (See IM-
PEACHMENTS.) The Senate is an executive coun-
cil in the matters of treaties and appointments.
(See TREATIES, JAY's TREATY, CONFIRMATION
BY THE SENATE.) Each house has its own officers
and rules, and its own distinctive features. (See,
in general, CONGRESS; SENATE; House of REP-
RESENTATIVEs ; CONGRESS, SESSIONS OF ; PAR-
LIAMENTARY L.Aw.)—3. The Federal Evecutive :
the President. The executive power is given to a
president, elected by electors for a term of four
years. (See ELECTORS AND ELECTORAL SYSTEM.)
He is commander-in-chief of the army and navy;
he has power to grant reprieves and pardons for
offenses against the United States, except in cases
of impeachment; he makes appointments, and
concludes treaties, with the concurrence of the
senate; he takes care that the laws are faithfully
executed, and is responsible to congress by im-
peachment. (See ExECUTIVE, MESSAGE, IM-
PEACHMENT, CONFIRMATION BY THE SENATE,
TREATIES, JAY's TREATY, TENURE OF OFFICE.)
With him is elected a vice-president, who pre-
sides over the senate, and succeeds to the pres-
idency in case of the death, resignation, removal
or inability of the president. (See ExECUTIVE,
V.) The list of presidents and vice-presidents is
given elsewhere. (See ADMINISTRATIONS.) — De-
partments. The subordinates of the executive are
divided into seven departments—the departments
of state, the treasury, war, the navy, the interior,
justice, and the postoffice. The heads of these de-
partments form what is called the cabinet, though
that title is wholly extra-constitutional. The cab-
inet functions of the heads of departments depend
entirely on the right given to the president by the
constitution to “require the opinion in writing of
the principal officer in each of the executive depart-
ments upon any subject relating to the duties of
their respective offices”; and “cabinet meetings,”
in the form which they have taken, depend on
the president’s will. The functions of the various
departments and their heads are strictly defined
by law (see ADMINISTRATIONs, and the articles on
the various departments.) One department, that of
agriculture, has been so constituted by law, while
its head is not recognized as a cabinet officer.
Each department has its own building at the na-
tional capital, the city of Washington, where its
business is transacted and its records are kept.
(See CAPITAL, NATIONAL.) Each department
has its subdivisions, called bureaus. The most
numerous are those of the department of the
interior, as follows: Indian affairs, pensions,
patents, public lands, census and education. In
like manner customs, internal revenue, the cur-
rency, the coast survey, the lighthouses, and sta-
1006
|UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
tistics, are under control of the treasury depart-
ment. — The appointment and removal of the
subordinate officials of the departments is, in gen-
eral, the province of the president. (See TENURE
OF OFFICE, CONFIRMATION BY THE SENATE.) In
the practical execution of his powers, the president
has come to rely upon the advice of heads of de-
partments, members of congress, and leading
politicians of his own party in the various states.
The public service has thus come to be the cement
for party organizations (see NOMINATING CON-
VENTIONs); and its efficiency has been seriously
injured. (See SPOILs SYSTEM, PATRONAGE.) In
1883 the passage of the so-called Pendleton bill
made a serious inroad into the system which had
controlled appointments and removals for the pre-
ceding half century. It authorized the applica-
tion, after July 16, 1883, of the system of appoint-
ments and promotions by examination to public
offices in which there are fifty or more employés.
(See CIVIL SERVICE REFORM.)—4. The Federal
Judiciary. The organization and powers of the
supreme court, the circuit courts, the district
courts and the territorial courts of the United
States are given elsewhere. (See JUDICIARY.) The
judges hold office during good behavior, and are
responsible only through the long and doubtful
process of impeachment. There is also a court
of claims, which deals with claims against the
United States; with an appeal to the supreme
court. — 5. The State Legislatures. The organiza-
tion of these bodies is given elsewhere. (See As-
SEMBLY.) Their powers of legislation cover the
whole field of subjects not prohibited to them by
the federal constitution or their several state con-
stitutions, so that, in general terms, they control
all matters pertaining peculiarly and exclusively
to their several states. They regulate the right of
suffrage within their states, under certain limita-
tions. (See SUFFRAGE.) They elect United States
senators, and prescribe the manner of the election
of presidential electors, and, in default of action
by congress, of representatives also. (See ELECT-
ORs, APPORTIONMENT, GERRYMANDER, HOUSE
OF REPRESENTATIVES.) It is, therefore, not an un-
common event for the elections in a few doubtful
legislative districts to rise to a national importance,
since their result may decide the political com-
plexion of a legislature which is to choose a
United States Senator, and his election may decide
the political complexion of the United States
senate and the general character of United States
laws. A minor local election may thus be of the
very greatest moment to the country at large. In
matters which are peculiarly of state interest, the
tendency is to limit both the duration and the
powers of the legislature: the former by making
sessions biennial; the latter by requiring general,
instead of special, legislation. (See RIDERs; and,
in general, see CAUCUs SYSTEM, PRIMARY ELEC-
TIONs.) —6. The State Evecutive , the Governor.
When the colonies were transformed into states,
at the beginning of the revolution, their executive
was regularly styled president. The appropriation
of this title to the national executive by the consti-
tution led to the universal adoption of the title of
governor for the state executives. At present all
the state constitutions provide that “the executive
power of the state shall be vested in a governor’’:
some of them vary it by calling it the “supreme *
or “chief” executive power; and two, Massachu-
setts and New Hampshire, give the governor the
title of “his excellency.” Massachusetts, New
Hampshire and Rhode Island elect the governor
for one year; New Jersey and Pennsylvania, for
three years; and the other states, for either two or
four years. (See the names of the several states
and STATE CONSTITUTIONS.) The only qualifica-
tions are those of age (usually thirty years), resi-
dence and citizenship. The chief executive offi-
cers, under the governor, are the lieutenant gov-
ernor, Secretary of state, auditor or comptroller,
treasurer and attorney general, regularly chosen
by election, though some of them are appointed in
some of the states. To these offices are frequent-
ly added others, such as superintendent of public
instruction or public works, inspector of prisons,
etc. In Florida and North Carolina these subor-
dinate officers are the governor's cabinet, or coun-
cil of state; in Maine, Massachusetts and New
Hampshire, an advisory body, called a Čouncil, is
elected by the people; in the other states there is
no council, but in most of them the governor may
call for his subordinates’ opinions or advice in
writing. A vacancy in the governor's office is
generally filled by the lieutenant governor, presi-
dent of the senate, and speaker of the house, in
the order named.—The governor, as the represent-
ative of the state's physical force, has power to
execute the laws, preserve the peace, suppress in-
surrection, and repel invasion. In this capacity
he is given various titles, from the simple title of
“commander-in-chief’ to the higher distinction (in
Rhode Island) of “captain-general and command-
er-in-chief of the military and naval forces of the
state.” He has the power of pardon or reprieve,
though in many of the states the council, or a
special board of pardons, shares the power with
him. In most of the states he has a more or less
limited veto power. (See WETo.)—7. The State
Judiciaries. The state constitutions agree in giv-
ing judicial powers to justices of the peace, to a
Supreme (or superior) court, and to such inferior
courts as may be established by the constitution
in some states, or by law in others. The inferior
courts are usually circuit or district courts, coun-
ty or parish courts under various names, probate,
orphans', surrogate's or prerogative courts, and a
great variety of minor criminal and city courts.
A few states retain the court of chancery, to-
gether with a court of errors and appeals from
both common law and equity courts; but in most
of the states the supreme court has also equity ju-
risdiction. In Maine, Massachusetts, New Hamp-
shire and Rhode Island, the supreme court is to
give its opinion on constitutional questions when-
ever requested to do so by the executive or legisla-
tive. — The most marked tendencies in the his-
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
1007
torical development of the state judiciaries have
been toward a codification of the statutes, and an
elective judiciary. (See JUDICIARY, ELECTIVE.)
The former tendency has been formally resisted by
a few states, but even in these it has had great in-
fluence upon the practice in the courts; while, in
those states which have fully yielded to it, it has
radically altered the practice. The latter tenden-
cy, to an elective judiciary, seems to be in some
manner akin to the former, for the states which
have resisted or succumbed to the one have gener-
ally done the same with the other. Both innova-
tions are due to the advancing spirit of democracy,
and it therefore seems probable that all the states
will finally yield to both, though at different times
and in different degrees. Codification has been
adopted in part by congress for the federal judi-
ciary, but the constitution has as yet proved an
insuperable barrier to an elective federal judici-
ary. (See JUDICIARY, VII.)—The reader's atten-
tion has been directed, in another article (see
State Rights, under STATE SovKREIGNTY), to the
vigorous individuality of life which characterizes
the states, and which does not need the stimulant
of a delusive “sovereignty.” The American fed-
eral system has certainly proved a very powerful
check to the tendency of a democracy to reduce
all men to uniformity as well as political equal-
ity; and it call hardly be said that any part of the
federal system has contributed more largely to
state individuality than the state judiciaries.
State constitutions have come to look somewhat
as if they were cast in one mould, and state laws
as if they were made after one pattern; but the
state judiciary, which finally and authoritatively
interprets both, retains and gives full force in the
interpretation to every tradition, prejudice and
peculiarity of the state life. State legislatures are
naturally very prone to enact innovations only on
the strength of their success in other states, and,
perhaps, under very dissimilar circumstances; but
that must be a very reasonable innovation indeed
which can pass unscathed the gauntlet of the state
courts, and make for itself a permanent place in
its new location. The divergences of form are no
less marked than the divergences in spirit. How-
ever similar the forms of the states may be in other
respects, their courts exhibit the most bewildering
diversity of form, name and jurisdiction. Law-
yers are apt to complain of such a diversity, and
to wish that courts and practice were uniform
throughout the States. It is to be feared that the
wish, if it were granted, would bring far more
Serious and pregnant evils in its train than those
of the present diversity. —IV. STATISTICs. 1.
Area and Population. Exclusive of Alaska, the
land area of the United States is 2,970,000 square
miles, and the water area 55,600 square miles;
total, 3,025,600 square miles. Until 1880 the
census made the total area 3,026,494 square miles;
but careful remeasurements have altered the re-
corded areas of all the states and territories, and
fixed the total as above.
The most striking result | }
Of the remeasurement is the reduction of the area
of California from 188,981 to 158,360 square miles.
The area of Alaska can not be considered as even
approximately ascertained. It has always been
placed at 577,390 Square miles, and is so given
elsewhere (see ANNExATIONs); but the areas of its
six subdivisions, as estimated by the special agent
for the census of 1880, make a total of but 531,409
square miles. The total area of the United States,
on the first estimate of Alaska, is 3,602,990 square
miles; on the second estimate of Alaska, 3,557,009
square miles. – The population in 1880 was
50,155,783, excluding Alaska, and was divided as
follows: male, 25,518,820; female, 24,636,963–
native, 43,475,840; foreign, 6,679,943—white,
43,402,970; colored, 6,580,793; Chinese, 105,465;
Japanese, 148; Indians, 66,407. The population
of Alaska is given by the special agent as 33,426:
430 white, 1,756 creole, and the rest Innuit and
kindred tribes. The ratio of population to square
miles of area was 17.29 in 1880; 13.3 in 1870; 10.84
in 1860; and 7.93 in 1850. The number of fam-
ilies in 1880 was 9,945,916, a ratio of 5.04 persons
to a family. In 1870 the ratio was 5.09; in 1860
it was 5.28; in 1850 it was 5.56. The territories
and Pacific states (except Oregon) have an excess
of single men, and low family ratio. In the more
eastern states, the lowest ratios of persons to a
family are: New Hampshire, 4.32; Connecticut,
4.55; Vermont, 4.55; Maine, 4.58; Rhode Island,
4.59; Massachusetts, 4.70; and New York, 4.71;
and the highest, West Virginia, 5.54; Minnesota,
5.45; Kentucky, 5.45; Tennessee, 5.38; Missouri,
5.38; Virginia, 5.36; and Texas, 5.35. There were
8,955,812 dwellings in 1880, or 5.6 persons to a
dwelling. The densest urban population was in
New York city, where there were 16.37 persons
to a dwelling. The five cities which led in popu-
lation were: New York city (1,206,299), Philadel-
phia (847,170), Brooklyn, N. Y. (566,663); Chica-
go, Ill. (503,185), Boston, Mass. (362,839). The
one hundredth in rank was Springfield, Ill.
(19,743). — The following table gives the land
areas in square miles, the population, the ratio of
population to square miles of land area, and the
gross land and water areas, in the several states
and territories in 1880 (territories in italics). The
unorganized Alaska and Indian territories are not
included in the ratio, and Alaska is not included
in the areas. -


º, Land Area. Population. Ratio §:
Alabama ----------- 51,540 | 1,262,505 24.50 52,250
Arizona ----------- 112,920 40,440 0.36 | 113,020
Arkansas ---------- 53,045 802,525 | 15.13 53,850
California---------- 155,980 864,694 5.54 | 158,360
Colorado-----------| 103,645 194,327 1.87 | 103,925
Connecticut-------- 4,84 622,700 | 128.52 3.
Dakota ------------ 147,700 135,177 0.92 || 149,100
Delaware ---------- 1,960 146,608 || 74.80 2,050
J)istrict Columbia-- 60 177,624 (2,960.40 7
Florida. ------------ 54,240 269,493 4.9 58,680
Georgia.------------ 58,980 | 1,542,180 || 26.15 59,475
Idaho-------------- 84,290 32,610 0.39 84,800
Illinois ------------ 56,000 || 3,077,871 || 54.96 56,650
Indiana ------------ 35,910 | 1,978,301 || 55.09 36,350
OW8--------------- 55,47 1,624,615 29.29 56,025
Kansas ------------ 81,700 996,0 12.19 82,080
Kentucky---------- 40,000 | 1,648,690 || 41.22 40,400
1008
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
(continue D.)
º, Land Area. Population. Ratio. %.
Louisiana ---------- 45,420 939,946 20.69 48,720
Maine ------------- 29,895 648,936 21.71 33,040
Maryland ---------- 9,860 934,943 || 94.82 12,210
Massachusetts -...-- 8,040 | 1,783,085 221.78 8,315
Michigan ---------- 57,430 | 1,636,937 28.50 58,915
Minnesota --------- 79,205 780,773 9, 86 83,365
Mississippi--------- 46,340 | 1,131,597 || 24.42 || 46,810
Missouri ----------- 68,735 | 2,168,380 || 31.55 69,415
Monta??&----------- 145,310 39,159 0.27 146,080
Nebraska ---------- 76,185 452,402 5.94 76,855
Nevada ------------ 109,740 62.266 0.57 | 110,700
New Hampshire.--- 9,005 346,991 || 38.53 9,305
New Jersey-------. 7,455 1,131,116 || 151.73 7,815
New Mécico.-------- 122,460 119,565 0.98 122,580
New York--------- 47,620 5,082,871 || 106.74 49,170
North Carolina----- 48,580 | 1,399,750 | 28.81 52,250
io--------------- 40,760 || 3,198,062 78.46 41,060
Oregon ------------ 94,560 174,768 1.85 96,030
Pennsylvania ------ 44,985 4,282,891 || 95.21 45,215
Rhode Island.------ 1,085 276,531 || 254.87 1,250
South Carolina----- 30,170 995,577 || 33.00 30,570
Tennessee --------- 41,750 | 1,542,359 || 36.94 42,050
Texas ------------- 262,290 | 1,591,749 6.07 || 265,780
Utah -------------- 82,190 143,963 1.74 84,970
Vermont -----...---- 9,135 332,286 || 36.38 9,565
Virginia ----------- 40,125 | 1,512,565 37.70 42,450
Washington. -- - ---- 66,880 75,116 1 - 12 69,180
West Virginia------ 24,645 618,457 25.09 24,780
Wisconsin --------- 54,450 | 1,315,497 || 24.16 56,040
Wyomżng ---------- 97.575 20,7 0.21 97,890
Unorganizéd------- 69.830 -----------|-------. 70,550
Total ---------- 2,970,000 || 50,155,783 17.29 3,025,600
— Increase of Population. The decennial census
has been a feature of the United States govern-
ment since the establishment of the constitution.
(See CENSUs, APPORTIONMENT.) Mr. Bancroft,
taking the ground that the ratio of increase was
about as constant before the year 1790 as after
it, estimates the population of the colonies in
the years 1750–90, as follows: 1780, 2,945,000;
1770, 2,312,000; 1760, 2,195,000; 1750, 1,260,000.
The census records give the population, at inter-
vals of ten years, and the increase per cent., as
follows:


* Increase
YEARS Population. per cent.
1880----------------------------- 50,155,783 30.0.
1870----------------------------- 38,558,371 22.6
1860----------------------------- 31,443,321 35.6
1850----------------------------- 23,191,876 35.8.
1840----------------------------- 17,069,453 82.6
1880----------------------------- 12,866,020 33. 5.
1880----------------------------- 9,633,822 33. 1
1810---------------------------- 7,239,881 36.3.
1800----------------------------- 5,308,483 35.1
1790----------------------------- 3,929,214 ||----------
— Immigration. No authentic record of immi-
gration is available before 1819. Contemporary
writers estimate immigration at 4,000 per annum.
up to 1794; and Dr. Adam Seybert, in 1818, con-
sidered 6,000 per annum, or 180,000 for the whole
period 1788–1818, a liberal estimate. The act of
March 2, 1819, required quarterly reports of immi-
grants by collectors of customs, and these have
been brought together in the annual reports of the
secretaries of state. (See EMIGRATION.) — Centre
of Population. This is defined, in Walker’s “Sta-
tistical Atlas,” (1874), as “the point at which.
equilibrium would be reached were the country
taken as a plane surface, itself without weight,
but capable of sustaining weight, and loaded with.
its inhabitants, in number and position as they are:
found at the period under consideration, each in-
dividual being assumed to be of the same gravity
as every other, and consequently to exert pressure
on the pivotal point directly proportioned to his
distance therefrom.” On this basis the census.
bureau has calculated the position of the centre of
population, at intervals of ten years, as follows.
Its approximate location by important towns, and
its westward movement during the preceding ten
years, are also given.

TYEARS. N. Latitude. W. Longitude. Approximate Location. Yº...
Deg. Min. Deg. Min.
1790------------------------. 39 16.5 76 11.2 23 m. E. Baltimore. ----------
1800------------------------- 39 16.1 7. 56.5 18 111. W. Baltiliuore. 41
1810------------------------- 39 11.5 77 37.2 40 m. W. by N. W. Washington. 36
1880------------------------- 39 05.7 '78 33.0 16 m. N. Woodstock. 50
1830----------------- * * * * * * * = 38 57.9 79 16.9 19 m. W. S. W. Moorefield. 39.
1840------------------------- 39 02.0 80 18.0 16 m. S. Clarksburg. 55
1850------------------------- 38 59.0 81 19.0 23 m. S. E. Parkersburg. 55
1860------------------------- 39 00.4 82 48.8 20 m. S. Chillicothe. 81
1870------------------------ 39 12.0 83 35.7 48 m. E. by N. Cincinnati. 42
1880------------------------- 39 04.1 84 39.66 8 m. W. by S. Cincinnati. 56
It was, in 1880, in Kentucky, one mile from the
Ohio, and one and a half miles southeast of the
village of Taylorsville. —Urban Population. The
following table shows the growth of the urban
population of the United States: it gives, at inter-
vals of ten years, the number of cities of 8,000
or more inhabitants, total population, and its per-
centage of the total population of the country:

YEARS. §§§ | Population. | Peret. YEARS. #3: | Population. Per ct.
1790------------------------ 6 131,472 3.3 || 1840 ------------------------ 44 1,453,994 8.5
1800------------------------ 6 210,873 3.9 || 1850------------------------ 85 2,897,586 12.5
1810------------------------ 11 356,920 4.9 || 1860 ------------------------ 141 5,072,256 16.1
1880------------------------ 13 475,135 4.9 || 1870------------------------ 226 8,071,875 20.9
1880------------------------ 26 864,509 6.7 || 1880 ------------------------ 286 11,318,547 22.5
— School, Military and Voting Population. The (male and female, 5 to 17), military age (male, 18
following table gives the population of school age
to 44), and voting age (male, 21 and over), in the
|UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
1009
several states and territories.
(Territories are
given in italics.) -
5 to 17, 18 to 44,
STATES both inclusive. . . both *...*
inclusive.
TERRITORIES.
Male. Female. Male. Male.
Alabama- ----------| 213,998 || 207,330 || 213,192 || 259,884
4?%20na-------. ---- 4,29: 3,629 8,144 20,398
Arkansaş----------- 135,769 130,306 159,606 182,977
California ---------- 109,971 106,422 257.229 || 329,392
Colorado------------ 18,462 17,910 86,004 93,608
Connecticut.--------- 78,179 77.333 127,590 177,291
akota.------------- 16,964 15,945 45,788 51,603
Delaware----------- 21,806 20,869 30,361 38,298
J): St. Columbia------ 23,044 24,683 35,411 45,873
Florida------------- 44,485 43,960 51,807 61,699
Georgia.------------- 259,468 || 252,087 | 275,815 321,438
Idaho-------------- 3,855 3,639 11,726 14,795
Illinois------------- 474,811 || 468,842 651,310 || 796,847
Indiana------------- 313,924 306,678 407,650 498,437
Iowa--------------- 258,558 251,552 || 333,890 416,658
Kansas ------------- 162,655 | 153,374 223,338 265,714
Kentucky----------- 276,452 270,003 || 313,136 || 376,221
Louisiana ---------- 150,092 150,061 173,731 216,787
Maine -------------- .345 | 82,511 127,975 187,323
Maryland ---------- 140,107 || 139,305 | 182,609 || 232,106
Massachusetts ------ 212,961 214,565 373,284 502,648
Michigan----------- | 235,391 || 228,991 371,140 || 467,687
Minnesota.---------- 119,703 117,872 174,681 213,485
Mississippi --------- 195,885 190,251 203,080 238,532
Missouri ----------- 355,438 || 346,072 || 459,209 541,207
Montaña ----------- 3,445 3,251 18,147 21,544
Nebraska ------...--- 69,513 65,645 112,884 129,042
Nevada------------- 5,691 5,653 25,967 31,255
New Hampshire----| 39,572 | 89,548 70,410 || 105,138
New Jersey---------| 158,173 || 158,248 230,054 || 300,635
New MeſºcO-------- 18,280 17,415 28,452 34,076
New York---------- 667,961 | 669,957 | 1,050,775 | 1,408,751
North Carolina----- 230,232 221,93 1,140 294,750
Ohio---------------- 479,710 471,568 647,092 || 826,577
Oregon ------------- 25,56 ,462 48,783 59,629
Pennsylvania- ------ 633,588 626,798 || 853,972 | 1,094,284
Rhode Island------- 3,840 || 34,304 57,854 76,89
South Carolina------ 166,933 | 163,690 170,922 || 205,789
Tennessee-------, -- 261,404 || 254,297 276,895 330,305
Texas- - - ----------| 263,988 || 254,937 || 332,120 | 380,376
Utah --------------- 24,468 23,595 26,480 32,773
Vermont------------ 43,974 42,296 64,162 95,621
Virginia------------ 247,843 242,731 264,033 334,505
Washington -------- 10,548 9,873 22,542 27,670
West Virginia.------- 105,255 | 101,143 114,664 || 139.161
Wisconsin------- ---| 204,594 | 201,284 256,434 340,482
Wyoming----------- 1,930 1,824 9,751 10,180
Total.----------- 7,605,126 7,458,641 |10,231,239 12,830,349
— Education and Illiteracy. The census of 1880
reports 225,880 public schools in the United States,
including 16,800 separate schools for colored chil-
dren, and 5,430 high schools or high school de-
partments. Pennsylvania stands first with 18,616
schools, New York second with 18,615, Ohio third
with 16,473, and Wyoming lowest with 55. The
school buildings number 164,832. Pennsylvania
stands first in this respect with 12,857 buildings,
Ohio second with 12,224, New York third with
11,927, and Wyoming lowest with 29. The total
number of teachers is 236,019; white male 96,0.99,
white female 124,086, colored male 10,520, colored
female 5,314. The aggregate of months of teach-
ers’ service was 1,539,303, at an average monthly
salary of $36.21. The monthly average is highest in
California ($76.54), and lowest in North Carolina
($21.27). The total number of pupils is 9,090,-
248: white male 4,687,530, white female 4,402,-
718, colored male 433,329, colored female 422,583;
and the average daily attendance is 6,276,398:
5,715,914 white, and 560,484 colored. The re-
ceipts of the public schools, mainly derived from
183 VOL. III. — 64
*…
taxation, were $96,857,534; and the value of their
school property was $211,411,540. (See, in gen-
eral, EDUCATION AND THE STATE; EDUCATION,
BUREAU OF.)— The following abstracts are from
the report of the commissioner of education for
1880; -


CLASSES. No. *.*|students.
Colleges and universities----------- 364 || 4,160 59,594
Scientific Schools------------------ 83 953 11,584
Theological Schools---------------- 142 633 5,242
Law Schools----------------------- 48 229 3,134
Medical schools------------------- 90 1,384 11,929
Dental Schools-------------------- 16 219 730
Schools of pharmacy -------------- 14 57 1,347
— The newspapers and periodicals number 11,314,
of which 971 are issued daily, 8,633 weekly, and
1,167 monthly. The aggregate circulation per issue
is 3,566,395 for the dailies, and 28,213,291 for the
others. English is the language of 10,515 of them,
and the others range from 641 in German to three
in Indian, two each in Chinese, Polish, and Port-
uguese, and one each in Catalan and Irish. — Out
of a total population of 36,761,607, of ten years
old and upward, 4,923,451, or 13.4 per cent., are
returned as unable to read, and 6,239,958, or 17
per cent., as unable to write. It must be con-
fessed that these are uncomfortable figures for a
republic based on manhood suffrage, but it must
be taken into account that they are abnormally
increased by the still prevailing illiteracy of the
colored race. Of the 32,160,400 white persons of
ten years old and upward, the number unable to
write is 3,019,080, or 9.4 per cent.; while the cor-
responding figures for the colored race are a total
of 4,601,207, of whom 3,220,878, or 70 per cent.,
are unable to write. There are 11,343,005 white
males of twenty-one years old and upward (voters),
and 886,659, or 7.8 per cent., of these are unable
to write. There are 1,487,344 colored voters, and
1,022,151, or 68.7 per cent., of these are unable to
write. These terrible percentages of colored il-
literacy can only be regarded as survivals of ante-
bellum conditions, and private benevolence is sup-
plementing public energy in the effort to reduce
them. The Peabody fund distributed $1,191,700
among the southern states for educational pur-
poses during the years 1868–80, and the various
missionary associations probably increased the
amount to about $10,000,000. The following is a
summary of the higher educational institutions in
the southern states for the colored race.

CLASSES. No. Hºlstudents.
Colleges and universities--------- ..] 15 119 1,717
Preparatory Schools---------------- 36 120 5,237
Normal Schools--------------- '* : * * * * * 44 227 7,408
Theological Schools---------------- 22 65 800
Law Schools----------------------- 3 10 33
Medical Schools-------------------- 2 17 87
Schools for deaf, dumb and blind- 2 18 122
–2. Economics.-Agriculture. The total number
of farms was 4,008,907 in 1880, against 2,659,985
101()
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
in 1870, an increase of 50 per cent. The increase
was altogether in farms of fifty acres and over ;
farms of less than fifty acres show a decrease, as
follows:
Q
CLASSES. 1880. 1870. 1860.
Under 3 acres--------- 4,352 6,875 |-----------
3 to 10 acres ---------- 134,889 172,021 54,676
10 to 20 acres --------- 254,749 294,607 162,178
20 to 50 acres --------- 781,474 | . , 847,614 616,558
50 to 100 acres -------- 1,032,910 754,221 608,878
100 to 500 acres - - - - - - - 1,695,983 565,054 487,041
500 to 1,000 acres - - ---- 75,972 15,873 20,319
Over 1,000 acres------- 28,578 3,720 5,364
It will be noticed that the changes for 1870–80
are in exactly the opposite direction to those of
1860–70. The average size of farms was 134 acres
in 1880, against 153 acres in 1870, and 199 acres
in 1860.
The total number of acres in farms
was 536,081,835 in 1880 (284,771,042 acres im-
(CONTINUED.)

1880. 1870, 1860.
Wool, lbs. ------------ 155,681,751 | 100,102,387 60,264,913
Hay, tons ------------ 35,205,712 || 27,316,048 || 19,083,896
Hops, lbs. ---. ---- ----| 26,546,378 25,456,669 || 10,991,996
Rice, lbs.------------- 110,131,373 | 73,635,021 | 187,167,032
Tobacco, lbs. ---------| 472,661,157 | 262,735,341 |434,209,461
Irish potatoes, bush. --| 169,458,539 143,337,473 || 111,148,867
Sweet potatoes, bush. - 33,378,693 || 21,709824 || 42,095,026
Cane Sugar, hbds. ----- 178,872 87,043 230,982
Molasses, gals.--------| 16,573,273 || 6,593,323 14,963,996
Milk, gals.------------|------------- 235,500,599 || ----------.
Butter, lbs. ----------- 777,250,287 |514,092,683 || 459,681,372
Cheese, lbs. ----------| 27,272,489 53,492,153 | 103,663,927

There should be added to the wool production in
1880 about 85,000,000 pounds for the wool of
“ranch” and slaughtered sheep, as estimated after
special investigation.
The value of live stock in
1880 was $1,500,464,609, against $1,525,276,457 in
1870 (the average value of the paper dollar in
1869–70 being 81 cents in gold), and $1,089,329,915
proved), against 407,735,041 in 1870 (188,921,099 in 1860. The total number of animals was as
improved), and 407,212,538 in 1860 (163,110,720 im- | follows:
proved). The value of farms is put at $10,197,-
096,776 in 1880, $9,262,803,861 in 1870, and 1880, 1870. 1860
$6,645,045,007 in 1860. The value of farming
implements and machinery is put at $406,520,055 | Horses ............... 10,357,488 || 7,145,370 | 6,249,174
in 1880, $336,878,429 in 1870, and $246,118,141 Nº. &SSèS - - - - - - *:::::::: #; §
in 1860. Production of leading crops was as |\;...... Isº ; §
follows: Other cattle ---------- 22,488,550 | 13,566,005 || 14,779,373
Sheep ---------------- 35,192,074 28,477,951 22,471,275
Swine --------------- 47,681,700 25,134,569 || 33,512,867
1880. 1870. 1860.
§º * = sº as se - *s, sº * * 43,997,495 29,761,305 15,825,898 || There should be added to the number of sheep in
uckwheat, bush. - . . . . .11,817,327 || 9,821,721 || 17,571,818 t • t
f;..."...ºft|º sº; 1880 about 7,000,000 on ranches and public lands,
Oats, bush. ----------- *; 282,107,157 | 172,643,185 as estimated after special investigation. — Manu-
Rye, bush. ------------ 19,831,595 || 16,918,795 || 21,101,380 2 - tº ſº * * e
Whéat, bush.III.I. 455,333.13% 28.745.6% 173 iółºń factures. The general results of the census in 1880,
Cotton, bales.---------- 5,755,359 || 3:0ſíðjó | `3,337,053 1870, and 1860, are as follows:
1880. 1870. 1860.
Establishments.------------------------------------------ 253,852 252,148 140,433
Hands employed : - - -
Males over 10------------------------------------------ 2,025,335 1,615,598 1,040,349
Females over 15--------------------------------------- 531,639 323,770 270,897
Children.----------------------------------------------- 181,921 114,688 |--------------------
Capital -------------------------------------------------- $2,790,272,606 $2,118,208,769 $1,009,855,715
Wages for the year-------------------------------------- 947,953,795 775,584,343 378,878,966
Value of materials--------------------------------------- 3,396,823,549 2,488,427,242 1,031,605,092
Value of products --------------------------------------- 5,369,579,191 4,232,325,442 1,885,861,676


Out of the 332 manufacturing and mechanical industries specified in the census report of 1880,
the following are selected:

INDUSTRIES. Establishm’ts. Capital. Hands. Product,
Clothing, men's------------------------------------- 6,166 $ 79,861,696 160,813 $209,548,460
Clothing, Women's---------------------------------- 562 8,207,273 25,192 32,004,794
Cotton goods---------------------------------------- 1,005 219,504,794 185,472 210,950,383
Mixed textiles-------------------------- ------------- 470 37,996,057 43,373 66,221,703
Silks------------------------------------------------ 382 19,125,300 31,337 41,033,045
Hosiery and knit goods------------------------------ 359 15,579,591 28,885 29,167,227
Worsted goods-------------------------------------- 76 20,374,043 18,803 33,549,942
Woolen goods--------------------------------------- 1,990 96,095,564 86,504 160,606,721
Carpets --------------------------------------------- j95 21,468,587 20,371 ,792,
Dyeing textiles----------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 191 26,223,981 16,698 32,297,420
Drugs and chemicals-------------------------------- 592 ,598,458 ,545 38,173,658
Tanned leather-------------------------------------- 3,105 50,222,054 23,812 113,348,336
Iron and steel--------------------------------------- 1,005 230,971,884 140,978 296,557,685
Iron pipe-------------------------------------------- 35 6,129,565 5,110 13,202,162
Wiśāī implements ---------------------------- 1,943 62,109,668 39,580 6
Fertilizers ------------------------------------------ 364 17.913,660 14,898
33,656.795
DNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 1011
aspects of this branch of the subject see CUS-
TOM's DUTIES, TARIFF, DISTILLED SPIRITs, Ex-
CISE LAw, INTERNAL REVENUE. — Mºnºng, Fish-
eries, State Debts, Finance, Banking. For these
subjects see MINEs; FISHERIES; DEBTs, NATION-
HOUSE, - Commerce.
\ (CONTINUED.)
INDUSTRIES. Establishm’ts. Capital. FIands. Product. . . .
Foundry and machine shop.-------------------------- 4,958 $154,519,484 145,351 $214,378,468
Flouring and grist mill ------------------------------ 24,338 177,361,878 58,507 505,185,712
Furniture ------------------------------------------- 5 38,669,764 48,729 68,037,902
Hardware------------------------------------------ 492 15,363,551 16,801 22,653,693
“Glass ----------------------------------------------- 211 19,844,699 24,177 21,154,571
Planed lumber ------------------------------------- 1,203 17,612,923 15,289 36,803,356
"Sawed lumber -------------------------------------- 25,708 181,186,122 147,956 233,268,729
Printing and publishing----------------------------- 3,467 62,983,704 58,478 90,789,341
Carpentering---------------------------------------- 9,184 19,541,358 54,138 94,152,139
JBlacksmithing -------------------------------------- 28,101 19,618,852 34,526 43,774,271
Carriage and Wagon--------------------------------- 3,841 37,973,493 45,394 64,951,617
Wheelwrighting------------------------------------- 10,701 10,641,080 16,108 18,892,858
Boots and shoes---- -------------------------------- 17,972 54,358,301 133,819 196,920,481
Brick and tile --------------------------------------- 5,631 27,673,616 66,355 32,833,587
Shipbuilding---------- = a- - - - - as ºr me we se se = * * * * * * * * = * * * = * * * * 2,188 20,979,874 21,345 36,800,327
Slaughtering---------------------------------------- 872 49,419,213 27,297 303,562,413
Sugar and molasses --------------------------------- 49 27,432,500 5,857 155,484,915
Tobacco (total)-------------------------------------- 7,674 39,995,292 87,587 118,670,166
Liquors (total) -------------------------------------- 3,152 118,037,729 33,689 144,291,241
The seven leading states are as follows, arranged according to capital:
STATES. Establishm’ts. Capital. Hands. Product.
New York ------------------------------------------ 42,739 $514,246,575 531,533 $1,080,696,596
Pennsylvania. e = ** -- ~ * = * = * * * * = * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * = 31 ,232 474, 510, 993 387,072 744,818,445
Massachusetts -------------------------------------- 14,352 303,806,185 352,255 631,135,284
Ohio------------------------------------------------ 20,699 188,939,614 183,609 348,298,390
Illinois --------------------------------------------- 14,549 140,652,066 144,727 414,864,673
Connecticut----------------------------------------- 4,488 120,480,275 112,915 185,697.211
New Jersey----------------------------------------- 7,128 106,226,593 126,038 254,380,236
These seven states lead in product also. For other AL, STATE AND LOCAL ; FINANCE: COINAGE ;


BANKING IN THE UNITED STATEs ; CLEARING
The following table gives
the specie value of imports and exports of mer-
chandise, 1861–83, each year ending June 30, and
the excess of imports or exports:
YEARS. Exports. Imports. Excess.
1861 ----------------------------------------------------- $219,553,833 $289,310,542 $69,756,700 Import.
1862 ----------------------------------------------------- 190,670,501 189,356,677 1,313,824 Export.
1863----------------------------------------------------- 203,964,447 243,335,815 39,371,368 Import.
1864----------------------------------------------------- 158,837,988 316,447,283 157,609,295 Import.
1865 ----------------------------------------------------- 166,029,303 238,745,580 72,716,277 Import.
Total five years---------------------------------------- 939,056,072 1,277,195,897 338,139,825 Import.
Average ----------------------------------------------- 187,811,214 255,439,179 67,627,965 Import.
1866 ----------------------------------------------------- 348,859,522 434,812,066 85,952,544 Import.
1867 ----------------------------------------------------- 294,506,141 395,761,096 101,254,955 Import.
1868----------------------------------------------------- 281,952,899 357,436,440 75,483,541 Import.
1869 ----------------------------------------------------- 286,117,697 4.17,506,379 131,388,682 Import.
1870 ----------------------------------------------------- 392,771,768 435,958,408 43,186,640 Import.
Total five years----------------- ----------------------- 1,604,208,027 2,041,474,380 437,266,362 Import.
Average ----------------------------------------------- 320,841,605 408,294,877 87,453,272 Import.
1871 ----------------------------------------------------- 442,820,178 520,223,684 77,403,506 Import.
1872----------------------------------------------------- 444,177,586 626,595,077 182,417,491 Import.
1873 ----------------------------------------------------- 522,479,922 642,136,210 119,656,288 Import.
1874----------------------------------------------------- 586,283,040 567,406,342 18,876,698 Export,
1875 ----------------------------------------------------- 513,442,711 533,005,436 19,562,725 Import.
Total five years--------- - - ----------------------------- 2,509,203,487 2,889,366,749 380,163,312 Import.
Average ----------------------------------------------- 501,840,687 577,873,349 76,032,662 Import.
1876 ----------------------------------------------------- 540,384,671 460,741,190 79,643,481 Export.
1877 ----------------------------------------------------- 602,475,220 451,323,126 151,152,094 Export.
1878 ----------------------------------------------------- 694,865,766 437,051,532 257,814,234 Export.
1879----------------------------------------------------- 710,439,441 445,777,775 264,661,666 Export.
1880 ----------------------------------------------------- 835,638,658 667,954,746 167,683,912 Export.
Total five years---------------------------------------- 3,383,803,756 2,462,848,369 920,955,387 Export.
Average ----------------------------------------------- 676,760,751 492,569,674 184,191,077 Export.
1881 ------- ---------------------------------------------- 902,367,346 642,664,628 259,702,718 Export.
1888----------------------------------------------------- 750,542,257 724,639,574 25,902,683 Export.
1883----------------------------------------------------- 823,839,402 723,180,914 100,658,488 Export.
1012
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
The percentage of the total exports and imports
of all kinds carried by American vessels (see AMER-
ICAN MERCHANT MARINE) was as follows: 1861,
65.2 per cent.; 1862, 50 per cent.; 1863, 41.4 per
cent.; 1864, 27.5 per cent.; 1865, 27.7 per cent.;
1866, 32.2 per cent.; 1867, 33.9 per cent.; 1868,
35.1 per cent.; 1869, 33.1 per cent.; 1870, 35.6 per
cent.; 1871, 31.8 per cent.; 1872, 29.1 per cent. ;
1873, 26.4 per cent.; 1874, 27.2 per cent.; 1875,
26.2 per cent.; 1876, 27.7 per cent.; 1877, 26.9 per-
cent.; 1878, 26.3 per cent.; 1879, 22.9 per cent.;.
1880, 17.6 per cent.; 1881, 16.2 per cent.; 1882,
15.5 per cent.; 1883, 16.3 per cent. — The follow-
ing are the exports and imports of merchandise to,
and from the various countries of the world, for-
the year ending June 30, 1883:


t Exports. & & Per
Total foreign
# COUNTRIES. Imports. - º: §§
O Domestic. Foreign. Total. -
Dollars. Dollars. Dollars. Dollars. Dollars.
1 | United Kingdom (England, Scotland, Ireland)---| 420,433,473 || 4,990,701 || 425,424,174 188,622,619 || 614,046,793 39.69.
3 | France------------------------------------------ 55,965,191 || 2,717,032 || 58,682,223 || 97,989,164 156,671,387 10.13.
8 Germany---------------------------------------- 64.340,490 1,829,439 66,169,929 57,377,728 || 123,547,657 || 7.98.
4 | West Indies:
Cuba ------------------------------------------ 14,567,918 535,785 | 15,103,703 || 65,544,534 80,648,237 5.21
British West Indies---------------------------- 8,241,622 260,531 8,502,153 8,736,112 || 17,238,265 | 1.11
Porto Rico.------------------------------------ 2,116,499 48,209 || 2,164,708 5,477,493 7,642,201 .49%
Hayti----------------------------------------- 3,162,738 60,363 || 3.223,101 || 2,971,515 6,194,616 .40%
French West Indies--------------------------- 1,783,332 30,223 1,813,555 2,895,857 4,709,412 .303
San Domingo---------------------------------- 1,179,200 22,674 | 1,201,874 1,417,519 2,619,393 . 17.
Dutch West Indies---------------------------- 579,690 9,922 589,612 882,058 1,471,670 ..10)
T)anish West Indies--------------------------- 694,565 7,561 702,126 384,003 1,086,129 .07.
Total---------------------------------------- 32,325,564 || 975,268 || 33,300,832 | 88,309,091 | 121,609,923 || 7.85.
5 | British North American Provinces: •
Dominion of Canada—
Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Ed-
Ward Island--------------------------------- 3,529,936 323,994 || 3,853,930 6,091,406 || 9,945,336 .64.
Quebec, Ontario, Manitoba, and Northwest Terr. 35,193,636 3,133,060 | 38,326,696 || 36,994,912 || 75,321,608 || 4.87
British Columbia------------------------------ 1,992,933 243,551 2,236,484 || 1,207,840 || 3,444,324 .23.
Total.---------------------------------------- 40,716,505 || 3,700,605 || 44,417,110 || 44,294,158, 88,711,268 || 5.74
Newfoundland and Labrador------------------ 2,114,500 48,643 2,163,143 446,718 2,609,861 .17.
Total.---------------------------------------- 42,831,005 || 3,749,248 || 46,580,253 44,740,876 91,321,129 5.91
6 Brazil ------------------------------------------- 9,159,330 92,764 9,252,094 44,488,459 || 53,740,553 || 3.47.
7 | Belgium----------------------------------------- 26,730,731 | 1,048,244 27,778,975 23,161,200 50,940,175 || 3.29.
8 Netherlands------------------------------------- 18,538,161 381,422 | 18,919,583 | 12,253,733 || 31,173,316 2.01
9 Mexico.------------------------------------------ 14,370,992 2,216,628 16.587,620 | 8,177,123 24,764,743 | 1.60.
10 | Spain ------------------------------------------. 16,815,708 115,579 16,931,287 7,794,345 || 24,725,632 | 1.60.
11 China ------------------------------------------- 4,079,522 800 4,080,322 | 20,141,331 24.221.653 | 1.57
13 Italy -------------------------------------------- 10,114,548 199,010 || 10,313,558 || 11,909,658 22,223,216 | 1.44.
18 Russia ------------------------------------------ 19,123,248 18,503 || 19,141,751 2,599,995 || 21,741,746 | 1.40.
14 British East Indies------------------------------ 2,185,611 2,185.804 || 19,467,800 || 21,653,604 | 1.40
15 Japan ------------------------------------------- 3,375,885 549 3,376,434 15,098,890. 18,475,324 | 1.19
16 || British Possessions in Australasia--------------- 9,638,997 156,659 9,795,656 4,021,395 13,817,051 .89.)
17 | United States of Colombia---------------------- 6,719,787 149,184 6,868,971 5,171.455 || 12,040,426 78.
18 Hawaiian Islands-------------------------------- 3,683,460 92,605 || 3,776,065 | 8,238,461 | 12,014,526 .78.
19 || Spanish Possessions other than Cuba & Porto Rico 315,942 8,532 324,474 10,617,563 || 10,942,037 .71
; §ºne Republic------------------------------ 3,357,670 185,526 3,543,196 6,192,111 9,735,307 .63.
Fuiana: -
British Guiana -------------------------------- 1,973,422 61,734 2,035,156 5,946,429 || 7,981,585 52"
Dutch Guiana--------------------------------- 447,778 3,571 451,349 473,043 924,392 .06.
French Guiana -------------------------------- 101,018 1,071 102,084 18,437 120,521 .01
Total.--------------------------------------- 2,522,213 66,376 2,588,589 6,437,909 || 9,026,498 .59%
22 | Venezuela-------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - , s sº sº as * * * * * 2,363,211 40,494 || 2,403,705 || 5,901,724 8,305,429 .54
23 Central American States------------------------- 1,936,813 66,654 2,003,467 5,121,315 7,124,782 .46.
24 | Portugal ---------------------------------------- 5,363,122 121,915 5,485,037 | 1,093,476 6,578,513 .43;
25 | Hong-Kong-------------------------------------- 3,766,231 11,528 3,777,759 | 1,918,894 5,696,653 .37
26 Uruguay ------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 1,385,755 67,063 | 1.452,818 3,980,110 5,432,928 .35.
27 | Dutch East Indies------------------------------- 2,407,131 || --------- 2,407,131 2,645,917 5,053,048 ... 33.
28 Denmark---------------------------------------- 4,442,077 66,799 || 4,508,876 302,886 4,811,762 .31.
29 Austria- ---------------------------------------- 1,715,382 64,522 | 1,779,904 || 2,984,923 4,764,827 .31
30 | Sweden and Norway----------------------------- 2,822,115 2,433 2.824.548 1,831,171 4,655,719 .30
31 || British Possessions in Africa and adjacent islands 2,405,901 32,168 2,438,069 1,840,020 4,278,089 .27
32 Turkey------------------------------------------ 1,369,703 || --------- 1,369,703 || 2,168,967 3,538,67 .23,
83 Chili -------------------------------------------- 2,837,551 22,945 2,860,496 435,584 3,296,080 .21
34 Peru ------------ .-------------------------------- 487,360 | 6,534 493,894 | 2,526,918 3,020,812 .19.
35 | All other countries------------------------------ 4,293,752 118,453 4,412.205 || 7,618,103 || 12,030,308 .79
Total.---------------------------------------- 804,223,632 || 19,615,770 823,839,402 | 723,180,914 1,547,020,316 100.00
— The following table gives the quantity or value
June 30, 1883, by classes, free and dutiable, ordi-
of imported merchandise for the year ending nary duty received, and average rate of duty :
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 1013

CLASSES. Free. Dutiable. Duty received. Average rate.
-Breadstuffs, dollars-------------------------------- 49,498 11,237,714 2,118,468 18.85 per cent.
"Chemicals, etc., dollars---------------------------- 27,581,886 16,134,204 6,053,574 37.52 & 4
Cottons, dollars----------------------------------. 802,248 32,359,344 12,234,371 37.81 { %
-Earthenware, etc., dollars-------------------------|------------------ 8,693,273 ,746, 43. 1 € $
Fancy articles, dollars----------------------- - ---- 444,018 24,589,140 6,716,509 || 27.31 & 6
Plax, dollars--------------------------------------|------------------ 23,088,891 7,584,343 32.85 { %
'Glass, dollars-------------------------------------- 379 7,597,897 4,182,617 55.05 “
Hemp and jute, dollars----------------------------|------------------ 12,615,393 2,565,560 20.34 § {
Hides and skins, dollars--------------------------- 27,961,112 ,47 7 30. { %
-Iron and steel, dollars-----------------------------|------------------ 40,837,376 16,590,504 40.63 { %
Leather, dºllars-----------------------------------|------------------ 12,653,722 3,770,547 29.8 § {
Metals, n. e. S., dollars---------------------------- 6,578,215 24,035,708 7,293,985 30.35 { %
*Oils, dollars--------------------------------------- 1,564,680 1,045,051 421,077 | 40.29 “
Paper and books, dollars-------------------------- 500,727 4,974,252 1,417,199 28.49 { %
JPaints and colors, dollars--------------------------|------- ---------. 1,284,206 422,245 32.88 & 4
Rice and paddy, pounds--------------------------- 12,926,951 65,963,061 1,638,252 .0248
‘Salt, dollars--------------------------------------- 154,671 1,476,946 705,844 || 47.79 per cent.
'Silk, dollars--------------------------------------- 14,042,696 33,307,112 19,654,946 59.01 { %
Spices, dollars------------------------------------ A 336,467 ,682,163 873,886 51.95 § {
Spirits and liquors, dollars------------------------|------------------ 13,733,666 9,253,341 67.38 { %
*Sugars, pounds------------------------------------ 114,132,670 1,927,685,706 44,517,851 . 0231
Melada, Pounds-----------------------------------|------------------ 3,925,205 * 73,598 .018?
Molasses, gallons---------------------------------- 238,773 28,065,366 1,569,467 .0559
Tobacco, leaf, pounds-----------------------------|-----------------. 13,811,140 4,833,899 .35
Cigars, etc., polinds ------------------------------|------------------ 787,393 2,732,264 $3.47
Tobacco. m. e. S., pounds-------------------------------------------- 190,950 95,475 .50
Woods, dollars------------------------------------ 4,565,064 9,530,364 1,703,096 || 17.87 per cent.
Wools, dollars------------------------------------|------------------ 51,044,444 32,320,893 || 63 32 “
All other articles, dollars-------------------------- 55,753,233 58,657,956 14,568,656 24.84 “
Total and average duty-----------------------. 206,913,289 493,916,384 209,659,699 42.45 per cent.
— The following table gives the values of mer- ordinary duty received, average rate, and consump-
chandise imported for consumption since 1867, the tion and duty per capita of estimated population:
Consump-
Values of Merchandise entered Average tion O Ordi
for Consumption. t - & - rdinary
YEARS ENDED JUNE 30– pu Rºy ####. * Pºiº
§ º uty Received. * dutia- Rºa
* * tyle.I’CIlan CI1Se e, per t
Free of Duty. Dutiable. # tº: 8.
Dollars. Dollars. Per Cent. Dollars. Dollars. Dollars.
1867---------------------------------- 17,033,130 361,125,553 46.67 168,503,750 10,443 ,653
1868---------------------------------- 15,147,618 329,661,302 48 63 160,309,941 9,372 4,357
1869---------------------------------- 21,692,532 372,756.642 47.22 176,114,904 10,447 4,665
1870---------------------------------- 20,214,105 406,131,905 47.08 191,221,769 11,057 ,959
1871---------------------------------- 40,619,064 459,597,058 43.95 201,985,575 12,648 5,107
1873---------------------------------- 47,683,747 512,735,287 41.35 212,030,727 13,802 5,222
1873---------------------------------- 178,399,796 484,746,861 38.07 184,556,045 15,901 ,426
1874---------------------------------- 151,694,834 415,748,693 38.53 160,185,383 13,241 3,738
1875--------------------------------- 146,465,463 379,795,113 40.62 154,271,806 11,944 3,501
1876 --------------------------------- 140,561.381 324,024,926 44.74 144,982,442 10,252 3,199
1877---------------------------------- 140,840,149 298,989,240 42.89 128,223,207 ,434 2,750
1878---------------------------------- 141,339,059 297,083,409 42.75 127,015,185 9,137 2,647
1879.--------------------------------- 142,550,159 296,742,215 44.87 133,159,025 8,893 2,696
1880--------------------------------- 208,049,180 419,506,091 43.48 182,415,162 12,514 3,637
1881---------------------------------- 202,557,412 448,061,588 43.20 193,561,011 12,643 3,761
1889---------------------------------- 210,721,981 505,491,967 42.66 215,617,669 13,565 4,084
1888---------------------------------- 206,913,289 493,916,384 42.45 209,659,699 12,939 3,871
* The average rate of duty in this table is computed on the ordinary duty only.
— The following table gives the values of the prin- for the year ending June 30, 1883, and the per-
cipal classes of exports of domestic merchandise centage of each to the total :
§ Fel" § JPer
'E ARTICLES. Values. Cent. Of 'E ARTICLES. Values. Cent. Of
'O total. O total.
— Dollars. Dollars.
| 1 || Cotton, and manufactures of: 11 Hops.----------------------------- 5,616,370 .70
&W --------------------------- 247,328,721 --------- 13 | Seeds ---------------------------- 4,420,413 .55
Manufactures of --------------- 12,951,145 ||--------- 13 || Spirits of turpentine-------------- 4,366,229 .54
— 14 Drugs, chemicals, medicines and
Total.-------------------------- 260,279,866 32.36 dye-stuffs --------------- ------- 4,284,753 .53
- 15 Coal------------------------------ 4,241,247 .53
2 | Bread and breadstuffs ------------ 208,040,850 25.87 || 16 | Furs and fur skins---------------- 3,935,603 .49
3 Provisions ----------------------- 107,388,287 13.35 || 17 | Agricultural implements---------- 3,883,919 .48
4 || Mineral oils ---------------------- 44,913,079 5.58 || 13 || Carriages, cars, carts, and parts of- 3,508,405 .44
5 || Wood, and manufactures of ------ 26,793,708 3.33 || 19 | Sugar and molasses:
6 Iron, steel, and manufactures of.--| 22,826,528 2.84 ugar, refined ------------------ 2,454,210 --------
7 || Tobacco, and manufactures of ----| 22,095,229 2.75 Sugar, brown, molasses, etc.---- 961,328 ||--------
8 || Animals, living------------------. 10,789,268 1.34
9 || Jeather, and manufactures of.---- 7,923,662 .99 Total.-------------------------- 3,415,538 .42
10 | Oil cake-------------------------- 6,061,699 .75 All other classes------------------ 49,438,789 6.15

1014 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
—The following are the exports and imports of following estimates of the capital or wealth of the
gold and silver bullion since 1860, and the excess nations named, and the increase for ten years.
of exports or of imports: The figures are millions of pounds sterling:
YEARS. Exports. Imports. #. #. NATIONS. sº, ºf
1860-------|$66,546,239 |$8,550,135 |$57,996,104 || - ------- Great Britain------------------------ 8,960 650
1861------- 29,791,0 46,339,611 ||----- - - - - - - - $16,548,531 United States----------------------- 7,880 1,560.
1862------- 36,887,640 | 16,415,052 20,472,588 |----------- France------------------------------ 7,417 295 .
1863------- 64,156,611 9,584,105 54,572,506 ||----------- Germany---------------------------- 6,075 725 .
1864------- 105,396,541 13,115,612 92,280,929 |----------- Russia ------------------------------ 3,540 250 .
1865------- 67,643,226 9,810,072 57,833,154 ||----------- Austria ----------------------------- 3,050 220
1866------- 86,044,071 | 10,700,092 || 75,343,979 |--------- Italy -------------------------------- 1,860 110
1867------- 60,868,372 22,070,475 38,797,897 --------- - || Spain ------------------------------- 1,37 133
1868------- 93,784,102 || 14,188,368 79,595,734 ----------- Holland----------------------------- 1,130 50
1869------- 57,138,380 | 19,807,876 37,330,504 ||-----------
1870------- §| #3; ###|::::::::::
1871 - - - - - - sº 7 ,9 rº y t 5 §2Vºf - - - - - - - - - - - - "7a, º * * s
1872------- 79,877,534 13743,539 66,133,845 |----------- Railroads. Following tables are from census re-
1873------- $4,608,574 21,480,93. 63,127,637 ----------- port of 1880. The respective groups are composed
# - - - - - - - §§ ; ś ::::::::::: of the following states and territories: (group I.).
1876------- 56.566,303 § §: * - - - * * * * - - - Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts,
1877------- 56,162,237 40,774,414 15,387,823 ----, ------ e º te ---
1878------- 33,740,125 29,821,314 || 3,918,811 ||----------- Rhode Island and Connecticut; (group II.) New
1879------- 24,997,441 20,296,0 4,701,441 ||--------- | | York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana,
1880------- 17,142,919 || 93,034,310 ||------------ 75,891,391 *V 2. Wºl” * istri - -
1881------- 19,406,847 | 110,575,497 |.----- - - - - - 91,168,650 Maryland. Delaware, New Jersey and District of
1882------- 4}º tº $º |----------- Columbia; (group III.) Virginia, West Virginia,
1883------- 31,820,333 28,489,391 || 3,330,942 ||----------- Rentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Geor-
- gia, Florida, North Carolina and South Carolina;
— Mr. Mulhall estimates the earnings or income of (group IV.) Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin, Missouri and
the world and leading nations for 1880 as follows, Minnesota; (group V.) Louisiana, Arkansas and
in millions of pounds sterling : World, 6,773; Indian Territory; (group VI.) Dakota, Nebraska,
United States, 1,406; Great Britain, 1,156; France, Kansas, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming,
927; Germany, 851; Russia, 632; Austria, 460; Montana, Idaho, Utah, Arizona, California, Ne-
Italy, 252; Spain, 186; Holland, 104. In his “Bal- vada, Oregon and Washington. Miles under con-
ance Sheet of the World for 1870–80,” he gives the struction are included in miles projected.


Established and Operated Roads. New Roads.
GROUPS. Road Completed. Extensions. Projected. coºn
- s Projected. Miles under * * * *
Companies. Miles. • construc- Companies Miles. Miles.
Companies Miles. tion.
|United States - - - -º º º - - - - - - - - - - 1,146 87,891 170 19,722 5,155 336 21,307 4,861
Group I.--------------------- 149 5,948 12 319 106 9 289 163
Group II.------------------ - 524 28,401 59 3,156 858 198 8,910 1,790
Group III. ----------- * - - - - - - - 153 14,592 34 2,486 876 37 2,869 937
Group IV.----------------- 178 23,134 25 2,754 871 48 3,432 797
Group V. -------------------- 13 921 6 245 112 7 1,371 514
Group VI. As a sº - nº nº me as a • - - - - m = - - - 129 14,895 34 10,762 2,332 37 4,436 ,660
Aggregate.
Roads C leted. Extensio d New Li º: d º; d
a CIS COmpleted, Extensions, an €W L1116S. -
GROUPS. p 1162 comºte º:
Miles com Miles pro Miles under projected. Construct’n
- J. - * - *
- - Companies. pleted. jected. Construction.
United States--------------------------- 1,482 87,891 41,029 10,016 128,920 97,907
Group I.-------------------------------- 158 5,948 608 269 6,556 6,217'
Group II.------------------------------- 722 ,401 12,066 2,648 40,467 31,049
Group III. ------------------------------ 190 14,592 5,355 1,813 19,947 16,405.
Group IV.------------------------------ 226 23,134 6,186 1,668 29,320 24,802.
Group V.----------------------------- 20 921 1,616 626 2,537 1,547
Group VI.------------------------------ 166 14,895 15,198 2,992 30,093 17,887
ASSETS.
GROUPS. Peº Cash. Other Assets. | Profit and Loss. Total.
Group I.---------------------------- $ 324,315,717 $ 4,932,389 $ 14,363,038 $12,971,056 $ 356,582,200.
Group II.--------------------------- 2,325,194,656 31,552,373 142,042,650 57,638,961 2,556,428,640.
Group III.-------------------------- 514,011,105 5,307,646 15,345,337 20,202,961 554,867,049.
Group IV.-------------------------- 1,069,913 805 10,986,396 61,704,649 8,946,971 1,151,551,821
Group V.--------------------------- 52,997,871 1,634,662 2,560,568 336,820 57,529,921
Group VI.------------------------- 896,012,653 6,798,647 56,746,226 22,397,601 981,954,527.
Total - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - $5,182,445,807 $61,211,513 $292,762,468 $122,494,37 $5,658,914,158.

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 1015
LIABILITIES.
GROUPS. sº Funded Debt. Unfunded Debt. | Profit and Loss. Total.
Group I.---------------------------- $, 191,619,196 || $ 110,406,207 $34,975,709 || $19,581,088 $ 356,582,200
Group II.--------------------------- 1,162,195,421 1,109,234,485 171,928 177 113,070,557 2,556,428,640
Group III.-------------------------- 227,506,389 240,174,976 68,377,681 18,808,003 554,867,049
Group IV.-------------------------- 560,848.636 491,632,564 60,460,303 38,610,318 1,151,551,821
Group V.--------------------------- 37,078,912 17,752,448 2,334,521. 364,040 57,529,921
Group VI.-------------------------- 434,357,710 421,714,722 83,124,503. 42,757,592 981,954,527
Total.--------------------------- $2,613,606,264 || $2,390,915,402 $421,200,894 || $233,191,598 $5,658,914,158

The total amount of permanent investments above
is made up as follows: construction of roads,
$4,112,367,176; equipment, $418,045,458; lands,
$103,319,845; stock of other companies, $184,866,-
527; bonds of other companies, $158,933,605; tel-
egraph lines and miscellaneous, $204,913, 196: total,
$5,182,445,807. The average per cent. profit upon
the capital stock was as follows: Group I., 6.16;
Group II., 6.92; Group III., 4.84; Group IV., 7.02;
Group W., 5.91; Group VI., 4.86; general average
for the United States, 6.32. — The summary of
accidents includes 364 killed and 1,438 injured
through causes beyond their own control, and 2,174
killed and 4,174 injured through their own care-
lessness (For a fuller treatment of the whole sub-
ject, see RAILROADS.)— Canals. The canals of the
United States in operation in 1880 had a length of
2,515.04 miles, with 411.14 miles of slack water.
Their cost of construction was $170,028,636; their
grossincome was $4,538,620; their total of expenses
was $2,954,156; and their freight traffic amounted
to 21,044,292 tons. The abandoned canals made up
a total length of 1,953.56 miles, constructed at a
cost of $44,013,166. — Telegraphs and Telephones.
There were, in 1880, 110,726.65 miles of telegraph
lines, 291,212.9 miles of wire, and 12,510 stations,
employing 14,928 persons in all. 9,661 of whom
were operators. The messages sent numbered
31,703,181, of which 3,154,398 were for the press,
and 28,548,783 were for the public. Their gross
receipts were $16,696,623.38, of which $13,512,-
116.17 came from messages; and the expenses
were $10,218,281, leaving net receipts of $6,573,-
843.04, including deficits of some companies. De-
ducting charges of $604,341.27, there was a net
income of $5,969,501.77, of which $4,136,749.75
went to dividends. The stock issued for cash was
reported at $66,529,200. The total length of tel-
egraph lines in 1883 is probably over 144,000 miles,
not including private, railway, government, and
other lines, as to which statistics are not obtain-
able. The telephone statistics were not complete
in 1880: they aggregated 148 companies and pri-
vate concerns, with 34,305 miles of wire, 54,319
receiving telephones, 48,414 subscribers’ stations,
and 3,338 employés. The total capital stock is.
sued was reported at $13,358,720; debt, $1,247,-
067; receipts, $3,098,081; expenses, $2,373,703;
net income, $770,516; and dividends, $302,730.
The length of telephone wires in 1883 is estimated
at about 100,000 miles. One company, the Amer-
ican Bell company, with a capital stock of $5,950,-
000, had in use by license, Jan. 1, 1883, 245,000
telephones, with 69,000 miles of wire. — Tonnage.
Full statistics of the merchant service are given
elsewhere. (See AMERICAN MERCHANT MARINE.)
It seems proper to add here the figures for the
three years following the close of that article, as
follows:

{ Sail St.
YEARS. Tonºke. Tàºe. Total.
1881 ------------------- 2,792,736 1,264,998 4,057,734
1889 ------------------- 2,810.107 1,355,826 4,165,933
1883 ------------------- 2,822,293 1,413,194 4,235,487
This was distributed as follows:
- - Cod and
TYEARS. *º Cºe rºl. ;
- isheries.
1881--, ------- 1,297,035 2,646,011 38,551 76,137
1882---------- 1,259,492 2,795,776 32,802 77,863
1888---------- 1,269,681 2,838,354 32,414 95,038
The new vessels built in 1882 and 1883 were as
follows: -

CLASSES. - 1882, 1883.
Vessels. Tons. | Vessels. | TOns.
Steam Vessels--------- 502 | 121,843 439 107,230
Sailing Vessels-------- 666 118,799 721 137,046
Canal boats----------- 68 7,882 42 4,711
Barges--------------- 135 33,747 66 16,443
Total ------------- 1,371 282,270 | 1,268 265,430
— Occupations. The following table is from the
census report of 1880 :

Age and Sex.
Persons. All Ages. 10–15. 16–59. 60 and Over.
Male. Female. Male. | Female. | Male. |Female. | Male. Female
Agriculture --------------------------- 7,670,493 7,075,983 || 594,510 || 584,867 135,862 5,888,133 || 435,920 | 602,983 22,728
Professional and personal services----- 4,074.238 2,712,943 |1,361,295 | 127,565 107,830 2,446,962 [1,215,189 138,416 || 38,276
Trade and transportation.-------------| 1,810,256 | 1,750,892 59,364 26,078 || 2,547 1,672,171 |. 54,849 52,643 | 1.968
Manufacturing, mechanical and mining 3,837,112 || 3:205,124 631,988 86,677 || 46,930 2,978,845 577,157 | 139,602 || 7,901
Total ----------------------------- 17,392,099 ||14,744,942 2,647,157 825,187 293,169 |12,986,111 |2,283,115 933,644 || 70,873
1016
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
The census report concludes that the figures for
the first two classes are to some extent confused
by reporting as “laborers” persons who should
have been reported as “agricultural laborers.” It
has thus resulted that the second class shows
much the greatest increase of the four classes
since 1870. The number of farmers and planters
is reported as 4,225,945; of “agricultural labor-
ers,” 3,323,876; of “laborers,” 1,859,223. The
particulars of some of the occupations under the
various classes are as follows: clergymen, 64,698;
domestic servants, 1,075,655; hotel and restaurant
keepers and employés, 133,856; lawyers, 64,137;
army and navy, 26,761; civil service, 115,531;
physicians and surgeons, 85,671; teachers, 227,710;
saloon keepers and bartenders, 68,461; bakers,
41,309; blacksmiths, 172,726 ; shoemakers, 194,-
079; butchers, 76,241; cabinet makers, 61,097 ;
carpenters, 373,143; fishermen, 41,352 ; lumber-
men, 43,382; printers, 72,726; tailors and milli-
ners, 419,157; tobacco workers, 77,045. — Valua-
tion and Taa’ation. The following table presents
a summary of the census report on these subjects
for 1880 : -
ASSESSED WALUATION.
IXIVISIONS.
Real Estate. Personal Property. Total.
New England states-----------------------------------------
* £º º sm *
$1,896,201,787 || $ 755,809,745 $2,652,011,532
Middle states---------------------------------------------------- 4,818,648,962 745,929,526 5,564,578,488
Southern states--------------------------------------------------- 1,677,847,248 693,076,021 2,370,923,269
Western states.--------------------------------------------------- 4,584,048,039 1,603,218,586 6,187,266,625
Territories-------------------------------------------------------- 60,020,889 68,192,740 128,213,629
Total.-------------------------------------------------------- $13,036,766,925 $3,866,226,618 $16,902,993,543
Maryland and the District of Columbia are placed in the middle states, and Missouri and the Pacific
states in the western states.
*
TAXATION.
Mi Civil
Divisions. State. County. #: ãº. Total.
New England States------------------------------------ $ 4,246,713 $ 2,095,331 $35,668,173 $42,010,217
Middle states------------------------------------------- 11,980,323 14,851,961 74,634,063 101,466,347
Southern states----------------------------------------- 13,732,068 13,344,391 10,430,958 37,507,417
Western states ----------------------------------------- 21,440,939 37,585,725 59,541,288 118,567,952
Territories --------------------------------------------- 619,912 1,729,163 299,686 2,648,761
Total ------------ --------------------------------- $52,019,955 $69,606,571 $180,574,168 $302,200,694

There should be added to the taxation of minor
civil divisions of the western states $10,457,783,
the estimated amount of taxation so indefinitely
reported as to be useless. The total taxation for
the western states would then be $129,117,979, and
for the United States $312,750,721. — Debt. This
subject is fully discussed elsewhere. (See DEBTs,
NATIONAL, STATE AND LOCAL.) — 3. GOVERN-
MENTAL. — Army. In November, 1882, the army
of the United States numbered 25,186, as follows:
Enlisted
Officers. Men.
Cavalry (ten regiments)-------------------- 431 6,383
Artillery (five regiments)------------------- 280 2,493
Infantry (twenty-five regiments) ----------- 877 10,767
Miscellaneous ----------------------------- 574 3,381
Total.---------------------------------- 2,162 23,024
The last class included the engineer battalion, re-
cruiting parties, ordnance department, hospital
service, Indian scouts, West Point signal detach-
ment, and general Service.
manded by one general, William T. Sherman, one
lieutenant general, Philip H. Sheridan, three ma-
jor generals, Winfield S. Hancock, John M. Scho-
field and John Pope, and six brigadier generals,
O. O. Howard, Alfred H. Terry, C. C. Augur,
George Crooke, Nelson A. Miles and Ranald S.
Mackenzie. Gen. Sherman retired in November,
1883, and was succeeded by Gen. Sheridan. There
The force was com-
were 66 colonels, 85 lieutenant colonels, 242 majors,
607 captains, 579 first lieutenants and 448 second
lieutenants. The country is divided into three mil
itary divisions, each of which is divided into de-
partments. The military division of the Missouri
(Sheridan commanding) included the departments
of the Missouri (Pope), Texas (Augur), Dakota
(Terry), and the Platte (Howard). Its headquarters
were at Chicago; its force was eight regiments of
cavalry and twenty of infantry. The division of
the Atlantic (Hancock) included the departments
of the east (Hancock) and of the south (Col. H. J.
Hunt). Its headquarters were at New York; its
force was four regiments of artillery and two of
infantry. The division of the Pacific (Schofield),
included the departments of California (Schofield),
the Columbia (Miles), and Arizona (Crooke). Its
headquarters were at San Francisco; its force was
one regiment of artillery, three of cavalry, and
four of infantry. The assignments vary from
time to time, and are only given in order to show
the organization of the army. The pay of Officers
and men is increased according to their years of
active service. The men receive from $13 a month
and rations (first two years) to $21 a month and ra-
tions (after twenty years' service). The maximum
pay of the principal classes of officers is as follows:
general, $18,900; lieutenant general, $15,400;
major general $10,500; brigadier general, $7,700;
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 1017
colonel, $4,500; lieutenant colonel, $4,000; major, -
:$3,500; captain $2,800; first lieutenant, $2,240; Survivors. Widows, etc. Total
::second lieutenant, $2,100. A deduction of two- 4,373 273,016
-Sevenths will regularly give the pay for the first jº.............. *:::: º §
five years of service. The expenditures for the, War of 1812---------- 4,931 21,336 26,267
army, 1860–83, have been as follows: Total------------- 206,042 97,616 303,658
º * * * * * * * * * *s $ 16,472,202.72 1872---------- $ 35,372,157.20
#.......... ;|#:… ####| – Patents. The number of patents issued has
#: * * * * * * * * me me §: #. gº & º me tº E º 'º ºw # §§ ; steadily increased since 1837. The most prolific
#...; 1877.III. § § year was 1876, when there were 21,425 applica.
#---------- *:::::::::::::: 1878---------- $13,14.8; tions, 2,697 caveats and 17,026 patents issued.
#:::::::::: ;|#.........: ####| The following table gives the applications, caveats
*1869---------- 78,501,990.61 1881---------- 40,466,460.55 and issues since 1840, at intervals of ten years :
1870---------- 57,655,675.40 1882. --------- 43,570,494.19
1871---------- 35,799,991.82 | 1883---------- 48,911,382.93
YEARS. Applications|| Caveats. Issues.
-— West Point, where the United States military
: academy is located, was a department of the divi- 1840 ---------------------- ſ: ; ;
ision of the Atlantic until Sept. 1, 1882. The mil- ; :::::::::::::::::::::: #: 1,084 4,819
itary academy was founded by act of March 16, 1870 ---------------------- 19,171 3,273 13,321
:- • { t º 1880 ---------------------- 23,012 2,490 13,947
1802, and various subsequent acts have established

professorships, and made the academy subject to
the articles of war. In 1843 the present system
of appointment was begun: it assigns one cadet-
ship to each congressional district and territory,
with ten appointments by the president. The
number of cadets is limited to 312. There were,
in 1882, seven professors, 145 cadets, and 204 en-
listed men at West Point. — Navy. The navy of
the United States is the subject of a separate arti-
cle, in which the reader will find full statistics.
(See NAVY.) — Pensions. Payments on this ac-
count were never large until the war of the rebell-
ion. They never rose to more than $1,000,000
per annum until 1819, and from that time until
1865 they remained below $5,000,000 per annum.
— Postoffice. In June, 1883, out of the whole
length of 353,166 miles of postoffice routes in
operation, 110,208 miles were by railroad, 16,093
by steamboat, and 226,865 by other conveyances.
The whole number of domestic letters mailed
during the year 1882 was estimated at 1,046,-
107,348; the whole number of foreign letters,
43,632,547. The dead letters and parcels num-
bered 4,440,822. The domestic money Orders
numbered 8,807,556, for $117,329,406; and the
foreign money orders 466,326, for $7,717,832. The
business of the postoffice department since 1790,
at intervals of ten years, has been as follows:

‘Since that time they have increased, particularly YEARs. |Nº." *...* | Revenue. Expenditure
since the passage of the act of Jan. 25, 1879, for
paying arrears of pensions to persons whose claims 1790--------- 75 1,875 $ 37,935 $32,140
**ſ ºr * ** ** **** & g a -º º * 1800--------- 903 20,817 280,804 213,994
were barred by failure to apply within five years. ič. 2,300 36,406 551,684 495,969
'The following are the payments for pensions, 1820--------- 4,500 72,492 1,111,927 1,160.9%
- 1865–83 & 1830--------- 8,450 115,176 1,850,583 1,932,708
- e 1840--------- 13,460 | 155,739 4,543,522 4,718,236
1850--------- 18,417 178,672 5,552,971 5,212,953
1865 ----------- $16,347,621.34 1875 ----------- $29,456,216.22 | 1860--------- 28,498 || 240,594 8,518,067 | 19,170,610
1866 ----------- 15,605,549.88 1876 ----------- 28,257,395.69 | 1870. -------- 28,492 231,232 | 19,772,221 || 23,998,837
1867 ----------- 20,936,551.71 1877 ----------- 27,963,752.27 | 1880. -------- 42,989 || 343,888 || 33.315,479 || 36,542,804
1868 ----------- 23,782,386.78 1878 ----------- 27,137,019.08 || 1881. -------- 44,512 || 344,006 || 36,785,398 || 39,251,736
1869 ----------- 28,476,621.78 1879 ----------- 35,121,482.39 1882--------- 46.231 || 343,618 41,876,410 | 40,039,635
1870 ----------- 28,340,202.17 | 1880 ----------- 56,777,174.44 1883--___ ____ 47,863 || 353,166 45,508,692 || 43,282,944
1871 ----------- 34,443,894.88 1881 ----------- 50,059,279.62
1872 ... -- - - - - - - - 28,533,402.76 1882 -------. --- 61,343,193.95 |
#:::::::::::::::::::#|*~~~~ *| – Debt. The history, growth and decrease of the
The number of pensioners on the rolls, June 30,
1883, (increase for year, 17,961), is shown in the
table at the top of the opposite column :
national debt, are elsewhere considered. (See
DEBTs, FINANCE.) The following is a somewhat
detailed statement of the public debt, as given by
the treasury department, Dec. 1, 1883:

TITLES. Rate. Redeemable. Outstanding. º A.
Loan of July 12, 1882. ---------------------- .03 Option, U. S. $ 299,093,250.00 $ 92,358.58 $ 747,733.12
Funded loan of 1891------------------------ .04} | Sept. 1, 1891. 250,000,000.00 254,810.31 2,812,500.00
Funded loan of 1907 ------------------------ .04 July 1, 1907. 737,629,100.00 1,149,169.83 4,917,527.33
Refunding certificates---------------------- '04 ------------------ 318,450.00 57,321.00 2,123.00
Navy pension fund-------------------- ----- 08 ------------------ 14,000,000.00 420,000.00 175,000.00
Lebt on which interest has ceased.----------|--|--|--|------------------ 6,645,335.26 321,815.99 |------- • sº gº as ºr a sº tº sº
Debt bearing no interest--------------------|------|------------------ 555,910,850.31 |----------------|----------------
Unclaimed Pacific R. R. interest 4,229.96 |----------------
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
sº s sº sº sº as me sº es as sº * * * * * * * * *
$2,299,705.67
$8,654,883.45
1018
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
Total principal and interest--...------------- $1,874,551,574.69
Less cash in treasury ---------------------- 364,766,513.84
Debt, Dec. 1, 1883---------------------- $1,509,785,060.85
The non-interest bearing debt was as follows:
Old demand notes: acts of 1861 and 1862.--$
Legal tender notes: acts of 1862 and 1863---
Certificates of deposit: act of 1872----------
Gold certificates: acts of 1863 and 1882------
Silver certificates: act of 1878--------------
Fractional Currency------------------------
58,800.00
346,681,016.00
14,465,000.00
85,932,920.00
101,782,811.00
6,990,303.31
Total.---------------------------------- $ 555,910,850.31
This statement of net debt shows a reduction
of $41,306,146.63 since June 30, 1883, and of
$179,129,399.87 since June 30, 1882. The high-
est point touched by the debt was on August
31, 1865, when the interest-bearing debt was
$2,381,530,294, with annual interest of $150,977,-
697 ($4.29 per capita); and the debt, less cash in
the treasury, was $2,756,431,571 ($78.25 per cap-
ita). The table at the top of the opposite col-
umn gives the net debt for preceding years since
1860, the debt per capita, the annual interest, and
interest per capita. (Under the article DEBTs
will be found the gross debt for corresponding
years.)
sº Debt Interest .
Debt, less Annual
4 * 3. € 1."
YEARS Cash. Cºia. Interest. cºſta.
1860---------- $ 59,964,402 || $ 1.91 $ 3,443,687 $ 0.11
1861---------- 87,718,660 2.74 5,092,630 0.16.
1862---------- 505,312,752 15.45 22,048,509 0.67
1863---------- 1,111,350,737 33.31 41,854,148 1.25
1864---------- 1,709,452,277 50.21 78,853,487 2.32
1865---------- 2,674,815,856 || 76.98 || 137,742,617 3.97
1866---------- 2,636,036,163 74.32 || 146,068,196 4. 12.
1867---------- 2,508,151,211 || 69.26 || 138,892,451 3.84
1868---------- 2,480,853,413 || 67.10 | 128,459,598 3.48.
1869---------- 2,432,771,873 || 64.43 | 125,523,998 3.32
1870---------- 2,331,169,956 || 60.46 118,784,960 3.08.
1871---------- 2,246,994,068 || 56.81 | 111,949,330 .83.
1873---------- 2,149,780,530 52.95 || 103,988,463 2.56
1873---------- 2,105,462,060 50.49 98,049,804 2.35
1874---------- 2,104,149,153 49.10 98.796,004 2.31
1875---------. 2,090,041,170 47.44 96,855,690 2.19
1876---------- 2,060,925,340 45.48 95,104,269 2.10
1877---------- 2,019,275,431 || 43.31 93,160,643 2.00
1878---------. 1,999,382,280 || 41.67 94,654,472 1.97
1879.--------- 1,996,414,905 | 40.42 83,773,778 1.69.
1880---------- 1,919,326,748 38.26 79,633,981 1.58,
1881--. ------- 1,819,650,154 35.22 75,018,695 1 .45
1882---------- 1,675,023,47 31.72 57,360,111 1,09.
—Receipts and expenditures of the United States,
excluding loans and interest on debt, for the six
years ending June 30, 1883, have been as follows:
RECEIPTs.
YEARS. Customs. #. Public Lands. Miscellaneous. Total.
1877---------------------------------------- $130,956,493 $118,630,408 || $ 976,254 $18,437,432 $269,000,587
1878---------------------------------------- 130,170,680 110,581,625 1,079,743 15,931,830 257 763,879
1879---------------------------------------- 137,250,048 113,561,611 924,781 22,090,745 2°3,827,184
1880---------------------------------------- 186,522,065 124,009,374 1,016,507 21,978,666 333,526,610
1881---------------------------------------- 198,159,676 135,264,386 2,201,863 25,156,368 360,782,293.
1882---------------------------------------- 220,410,730 146,497,595 4,753,140 31,863,784 403,525,250.
1888---------------------------------------- 214,706,496 144,720,368 7,955,864 30,904,853 398,287,581
ORDINARY EXPENI) ITURES.
YEARS Miś, S. War. Navy. Indians. Pension. Total.
1877 -------------------------- $56,252,067 || $37,082,736 || $14,959,935 | $5,277,007 || $27,963,752 || $141,535,497
1878-------------------------- 53,177,704 32,154,148 17,365,301 4,629,280 27,137,019 134,463,452
1879 -------------------------- 65,741,555 40,425,661 15,125,127 5,206,109 35,121,482 161,619,935.
1880 -------------------------- 57,508,850 38,116,916 13,536,985 5,945,457 56,777,174 171,885,383
1881 -------------------------- 65,476,573 40,466,461 I5,686,672 6,514, 161 50,059,28U 178,204,146.
1889 -------------------------- 57.219,751 43,570,494 15.032,046 9,736,747 61,345.194 186,905,233 -
1883 -------------------------- 68,678,020 48,911,382 15,283,437 7,362,590 66,012,573 206,248,006



To these items of ordinary expenditure is to be
added the interest on the public debt, which was
$59,160,131 for 1883, making a total expenditure
of $265,408,137. This, with $1,299,312 from the
treasury accounts of 1882, left a surplus revenue
of $134,178,756, which was applied to the redemp-
tion of the public debt. — The principal officers
of the United States government were as follows,
July 1, 1883: President, Chester A. Arthur, of
New York; president of the senate, and acting
vice-president, George F. Edmunds, of Vermont;
secretary of state, F. T. Frelinghuysen, of New
Jersey; Secretary of the treasury, Charles J. Fol-
ger, of New York; secretary of the interior, Henry
M. Teller, of Colorado; secretary of war, Robert
T. Lincoln, of Illinois; secretary of the navy,
William E. Chandler, of New Hampshire; post-
master general, Walter Q. Gresham, of Indiana;
attorney general, Benjamin H. Brewster, of Penn-
sylvania; commissioner of agriculture, George B.
Loring, of Massachusetts. All these belong to the
republican party. In the congress of 1883–5 the
relative strength of political parties is as follows:
In the Senate there are thirty-eight republicans,
thirty-six democrats, and two “readjusters” (from
Virginia), who will regularly act with the repub-
licans. In the house of representatives there are
194 democrats and one independent democrat,
120 republicans and two independent republicans,
six readjusters, one greenbacker, and One vacancy
(July 1, 1883). If a vote for president should
devolve on the house of representatives, voting
by states, in 1885, there would be twenty-two.
democratic states, fourteen republican states, one
(Virginia) readjuster, and one (Florida) divided.
— It is hoped that the bibliographies under the:
|UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
1019
articles referred to above will be sufficient to
give the reader a guide to both sides of political
questions, and that these articles, with the sub-
sidiary articles referred to under them, will cover.
the field of American political history. Reference .
is particularly suggested to the following articles:
ANTI- FEDERAL PARTY, DEMOCRATIC - REPUB-
LICAN PARTY, FEDERAL PARTY, WHIG PARTY,
REPUBLICAN PARTY, ANTI-MASONRY, AMERICAN
PARTY, LIBERAL REPUBLICAN PARTY, GREEN-
BACK PARTY, the names of the presidents, and
the names of the states. In the following list it
is only intended to give the general authorities,
and the special authorities for the last section of
the article. The latter, government publications,
are obtainable on application to the proper officer
at Washington. (I.) 1–6 Bancroft's History of the
United States; 1, 2 Hildreth’s History of the United
States; 1, 2 Bryant and Gay's History of the United
States; Force’s Tracts relating to the Colonies, and
American Archives, Hazard's Historical Collec- |
tions ; Anderson’s Discovery by the Worsemen ;
Rohl's Discovery of America; Da Costa's Northmen
Žn Maine, Hakheyt's Divers Voyages touching the
Discovery of America, Helps' Spanish Conquest of
America, Robertson’s History of America, Park-
man’s France and England in America, Neill’s
English Colonization in America, Burke's Euro-
peam, Settlements in America, Nicholls' Life of
Cabot; Edwards' Life of Raleigh; Lodge's English
Colonies in America, Doyle's English Colonies in
America, Holmes’ Annals of America, Grahame's
History of the United States (to 1783); Palfrey’s
History of New England, Marshall’s History of
the Colohies ; Chalmers’ Annals of the Colomées,
and Revolt of the Colonies ; Walsh’s Appeal from
the Judgments of Great Britain ; Gordon's His-
tory of the Independence of the United States, 1
Pitkin's History of the United States ; Frothing-
ham’s Rise of the Republic ; Scott’s Constitutional
Liberty in the Colonies ; Pownall’s Administra-
tion of the Colonies; 1 Story's Commentaries;
H. Sherman's Governmental History of the United
States ; Poore's Federal and State Constitutions
(for charters). (II.) 7–10 Bancroft's History of
the United States ; , 3–6 Hildreth’s History of the
United States (to 1820); von Holst’s Constitutional
EHistory of the United States; 2 Pitkin's History of
the United States (to 1797); Ramsay’s History of the
United States (to 1814); Schouler’s History of the
United States (to 1820); 3, 4 Bryant and Gay's
History of the United States ; McMaster's History
of the American People; J. C. Hamilton's History
of the Republic of the United States; Tyler's History
of American Literature; Holmes’ Ammals of Amer-
*ca, Bradford's History of the Federal Government
(to 1840); Tucker's History of the United States
(to 1840); Spencer’s History of the United States
(to 1857); Statesman’s Manual; Sumner's Politics
2n the United States, 1776–1876 (N. A. Rev., Jan.
1876); Bishop's History of American Manufactures,
Journals of Congress (1774–89); Annals of Congress
(1789–1824); Register of Debates in Congress (1824
–37); Congressional Globe (1833–72); Congressional
Record (1872–83); Benton's Abridged Debates of
Congress (1789–1850); Statutes at Large ; Revised
Statutes of the United States; Niles' Weekly Register
(1811–36); Porter's Outlines of the Constitutional
Płęstory of the United States; Sterne's Constitutional
History of the United States; Johnston's History of
American Politics; Tribune Almanac (1838–83);
Appleton's Annual Cyclopædia (1861–83); Spof-
ford's American Almanac (1878–83); McPherson's.
Political Manuals; Greeley’s Political Teat Book:
(1860), and American Conflict; Cluskey's Political
Cyclopædia (1860); Benton's Thirty Years' View,
Young's American Statesman, Stephens' War
Between the States; Democratic Review (1841–52);
Whig Review (1844–52); Skinner's Issues of Ameri-
can Politics; Winsor's Reader's Hand-Book of the
Bevolution , Foster's Monthly Reference Lists.
(1883); C. K. Adams' Manual of Historical Liter-
ature. (III.) Story’s Commentaries, Kent's Com-
'mentaries ; Duer’s Constitutional Jurisprudence;
Hurd's Law of Freedom and Bondage, and Theory
of our National Evistence, Brownson’s American.
JRepublic; Mulford's The Nation; Jameson's Com-
stitutional Convention; “Centz”’s Republic of Re-
publics; Tucker's Blackstone's Commentaries; Cur-
tis’ History of the Constitution, Bancroft’s History
of the Constitution ; Elliot's Debates; De Tocque-
ville's Democracy in America y Cooley's Constitu-
tional Limitations, Threatisé on Taa’ation, and Con-
stitutional Law; Sedgwick’s Statutory and Com-
stitutional Law, Pomeroy’s Constitutional Law,”
Bump's Wotes of Constitutional Decisions ; Far-
rar's Manual of the Constitution ; The Federal-
*st : Paschal's Amnotated Constitution ; Desty's.
Federal Citations ; Abbott’s Digest of United
States Statutes and Reports, and United States.
Digest : Brightly’s Digest of Federal Decisions ;
Myer's Indea to Supreme Court Reports; Rapalje's
Federal Reference Digest , McCrary’s Law of
Elections; Brightly’s Election Cases; Rorer’s In-
ter-State Law ; Dillon’s Municipal Corporations ;
The Municipalist (1869); Morse's Citizenship ;
Ford's American Citizen’s Manual ; Lamphere's,
United States Government ; Seaman’s Americam.
System of Government; Hough's American Con-
stitution; Poore's Federal and State Constitutions;
Barnes' Ante-bellum Constitutions (with post-bel-
lum changes); Bowen's Constitutions of England
and America. (IV.) In general, Compendium of
the Tenth Census (1880); ib., 1850, 1860, 1870; in
particular, Walker's Statistical Atlas of the United
States (1874); Annual Report of the Commissioner
of Education (1880); Report of the Department of
Agriculture, issues of the Bureau of Statistics for
1882 and 1883, particularly Statistical Abstract of
the United States, and Reports on Foreign Com-
merce, Imported Merchandise, and Imports, Eagorts, .
Immigration and Navigation, Poor's Railroad
Manual (1882); Report of the Register of the Treas-
wry (for tonnage); Reports of the General of the Ar-
my, and Secretary of War; Official Army Register;
Reports of Commissioner of Pensions, Commissioner.
of Patents, Postmaster General, and Secretary of the
Treasury (1883). ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
T020
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
UNITED STATES OF COLOMBIA.
NEW GRENADA.)
(See
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS AND
"THE PENSION LAWS OF OTHER COUN-
TRIES. A pension is defined by Webster to be
an annual allowance of a sum of money to a per-
son by the government in consideration of past
services. In theory at least a pension is an arbi-
trary payment of money by the money-giving
power in a country—in this country, congress; in
another, the crown or parliament—for what it
considers services. A secondary definition, his-
storically the primary one, in Webster, shows us
the aspect in which a pension used to be regarded :
“An allowance or annual payment considered in
the light of a bribe.” The more modern idea is to
consider it in the light of a payment on an insur-
ance policy. We will briefly consider how these
different ideas about a thing called by the same
name arose. — After a man or set of men have
done any signal service to their country, it has
in every country and in every age been thought
only right and just that the popular appreciation
and thanks should be expressed in something more
than words. And consequently, after such serv-
ices have been rendered, whether in peace or war,
it seems perfectly proper for the country, by its
representatives, to vote a pension or any other re-
ward that may seem fit, whether it is to a class of
men, an army or an individual. For instance, in
this country, pensions in general have, at least un-
til quite recently, been looked upon as un-Amer-
ican and unrighteous. But after every war of any
consequence statutory provision has been made
for the payment of pensions and bounties to those
who have been wounded in it, or to the families of
those who have died in it, and this without objec-
tion. Special acts of congress also have at every
period of our history been passed, giving pensions
where needed and deserved. — Such pensions as
these have been, as we have said, at all times nat-
rural aud proper. It call be easily understood,
that in the old days of monarchical independence
and independent bounty, the step from this class
of pensions to gifts for what the crown called Serv-
ices—that is, personal service or complaisance
Irendered or to be rendered—was a very short and
“easy One. And so a door was opened for a vast
amount of corruption and bribery. Salaries had
to be paid to those who took up the profession of
courtiers, just as to any officers of government.
The king was the state, and his personal servants
were civil servants, and were to be provided for
‘for life as such. When Neckar assumed the ad-
sministration of the French finances, the public
pension list of France amounted to twenty-seven
tmillion livres; the private one had to be kept a
secret. Every one knows what a shameful use
was made of this privilege in England in the
rtimes of Charles II., and how from that time for a
long period of history the free use of pensions was
the only method by which cabinets and govern-
ments in that country could hold their own ;
members of parliament became civil servants too,
and had to have their salaries and provisions for
life. Finally, the abuses became so great as to
force a reform, and an act was passed forbidding
any pensioner or placeman to occupy a seat in
parliament. Even now, cabinet officers and hold-
ers of offices of emolument under the government,
when they accept the position, have to resign
their seat in parliament. Finally, the subordinate
clerks of government began to claim such provi-
Sion, and while by a gradual process these arbi-
trary powers were curtailed in nearly all European
countries, the principle of pension giving was en-
larged, and subjected to statutory provisions.
More and more officers of government and classes
of officers were embraced in pension-giving sys-
tems. – Mr. Dorman B. Eaton, in his book on
the “English Civil Service,” sketches the rise of
the system in England, and we may take his re-
marks to illustrate the growth of such a system,
and his reasoning as to the difference among dif-
ferent kinds of pensions, as an example of the
arguments by which the growth has always been
aided. — In 1809 an English statute provided for
Superannuation allowances to persons in the excise
service, reciting, “Whereas no provision is made
by law for persons employed in the revenue of
excise, to the great discouragement of such offi-
cers and other persons, and to the manifest injury
of the revenue.” In 1810 a law proves a fact al-
ready suggested, that the voluntary contributions
of those in certain branches of the service had
provided a sort of retiring allowance by creating
a fund in the nature of an insurance fund. This
act is known as 50 Geo. III., ch. 117. The same
law also provides for annual statements of persons
in the public service, and of their salaries, pensions
and allowances. It also establishes a system of
superannuation allowances. Other laws from
time to time were passed on the subject. In 1859
they were finally revised by 22 Vict., ch. 26,
“An act to amend the laws concerning superan-
Inuation, and other allowances to persons having
held civil offices in the public service.” The al-
lowance is given “to all persons who have served
in an established capacity in the permanent civil
service of the state, whether their remuneration be
computed by day pay, weekly wages or annual
salary.” There is to be granted “to any person
who shall have served ten years and upward, and
under eleven years, an annual allowance of ten-
sixtieths of the annual salary and,emoluments of .
his office; for eleven years, and under twelve years,
an annual allowance of eleven-sixtieths of such
Salary and emoluments; and in like manner a fur-
ther addition to the annual allowance of one-
sixtieth in respect of each additional year of such
service, until the completion of a period of service
of forty years, when the annual allowance of
forty-sixtieths may be granted; and no addition
shall be made in respect of any service beyond
forty years.” There is then a provision for com-
puting the amount of superannuation to persons
holding professional and other special offices not
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
1021
embraced by the foregoing provisions. There are
also provisions for granting allowances at discre-
tion up to a fixed limit in cases of exceptional
merit, severe bodily injury, disability in the serv-
ice, abolition of offices, etc. Where the pensioner
is under sixty, evidence of infirmity incapacitating
him from discharging his duties, and of the prob-
able permanence of such infirmity, must be given;
and, even when these facts are established, he is
liable to be required to serve again at any time be-
fore the age chosen as a limit. But persons (§ 12)
retain the right to superannuation on transfer to
other employment under the crown. All allow-
ances are to be paid free of taxes. The system is
made in principle analogous to pensions in military
life. On the other hand, a deduction may be
made from such allowances against any person
when ‘‘ his defaults or demerits in relation to the
public service appear to justify such diminution.
The act further provides, that no person (save a
few especially excepted) shall be deemed to be
in the civil service in such a sense as to entitle
him to any superannuation or retiring allowance,
unless he has been admitted to the civil service
with a certificate from the Civil service commis-
sioners. This being the act under which pen-
sions are now given in England, it has been rath-
er more fully recited than in Mr. Eaton's book.
Mr. Eaton further distinguishes between these
Superannuation allowances and pensions granted
by crowns or administrations. Those allowances
are really a part of the compensation of the office,
of the conditions on which he entered public serv-
ice, and are not, therefore, given on any theory
of a gratuity or of favor. Looked at from the side
of the government, they are regarded as present-
ing an ingenious and just method of receiving a
good quality of service at the most reasonable
rates; and from the side of the officer, as an in-
ducement to greater economy, at the opening of
official life, in order to secure, by reason of what
he then forbears to receive, a certain provision for
his declining years. The pension proper (in civil
life) is a different matter altogether; being the
bribe of the crown or administration for political
effect, or its favor bestowed upon some person
deemed fit for its charity or deserving of its honor,
and often irrespective of such person being or hav-
ing been in the public service. There was an avail-
able pension fund apparently in the discretion of
the crown for political purposes until 1830, in spite
of various statutes. In that year all the pension
lists were consolidated. In 1837 Queen Victoria
ascended the throne; and, by an act passed in her
first parliament, the right of the crown to grant
pensions was limited to about six thousand dollars
a year (in addition to the previous list), and they
Can only be granted in that amount “to such per-
Sons as have just claims on the royal beneficence,
or who by their personal services to the crown, by
their performance of duties to the public, or by
their useful discoveries in science and attainments
in literature and the arts, have merited the gracious
Consideration of their sovereign and the gratitude
thereto.
of their country.” (1 Vict., ch. 11.) — There are:
nine classes of civil pensions in England: 1, an-
nuities; 2, compensation allowance; 3, compas-
Sionate allowance; 4, hereditary pensions; 5, po-
litical pensions; 6, pensions; 7, retiring allowances;
8, special pensions; 9, Superannuation allowances:
and the amount thus spent was in 1881 over twenty
millions. The oldest pension is to the heirs of Sir
Thomas Clarges. The date is put at 1673. Near-
ly a million dollars have been paid to him and his,
heirs, and Over three and a half millions to the
duke of Marlborough, and his heirs. — In France,
pensions are awarded to civil, military and naval
officers, to ecclesiastics, and to those distinguished
in literature, Science and the arts; also to the
widows and children of high officials. In 1874.
thirty-six thousand, francs were awarded to aged
and infirm ecclesiastics. Pensions for long serv-
ices are given to non-commissioned officers and
privates in the army who have served twenty-one.
years in the infantry, or twenty-four years in the
cavalry, or sooner in case of disability from
wounds, loss of health, etc. — In Germany the
military pension list was, in 1874, 37,996,878 marks.
— We will now briefly consider the advantages.
and disadvantages of a pension system, with espe-
cial reference to the United States, and then go.
somewhat into detail concerning the pension laws.
and system now existing here. — In our consider-
ation of the general theory of pensions, we may
withdraw one class from discussion. That is the
first class we have spoken of : those which, com-
bined with the wish of men to live without work-
ing, originated all the other kinds; what are called
in France national recompenses, granted by legis-
lative or kingly acts for distinguished services.
As we have already said, these have always been
granted, whether to armies or individuals, and so
long as such are carefully scrutinized, and the
merits for which they are given are first weighed
in the balance and found worthy, no objection
can be raised. They should be given, too, if the
primary object should die, only to his dependent
relatives, and not to his children after they attain
a self-supporting age. It follows from this, that
military pensions should be granted after any espe-
cial service or war, and with immediate reference.
And besides these, if any one enters the
government service where there is a pension in
existence already, he has a right to demand the
pension. That does not affect the question wheth-
er such system should be abolished for the fu-
ture, or the question whether any should ever be
introduced. — Leaving these matters, therefore,
out of the question, what we are to discuss is the
advisability, or otherwise, of a pension system as a
part of the method by which a government agrees
to pay its servants, civil or military, for services not
yet rendered. — 1. There is an objection in theory
to a government's either creating an insurance fund
for the benefit of, or promising to confer a gift on,
its agents, civil or military, for future services, by
any statutory provision. It is not within the prov-
ince of government, as that province has been
1022
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
limited and defined by history and by writers on
the subject. A government's business is to pro-
tect its citizens’ rights and to transact the clerical
business of the state as a whole. There may be
many things the government does now which do
not come within this rule ; but because it is diffi-
cult or not advisable to remove those already there,
is no reason why, if the theory be true, still more
exceptions should be added to the list. But, it is
said, the government may hire a clerk or a soldier
at so much a year to do certain duties. Has it not
a right to choose its own manner of paying? may
it not each year subtract so much from the salary,
telling its servant, “If you work for me for a cer-
tain number of years without conducting yourself
so badly as to get turned out, you shall get the
proceeds of this investment that is made for you;
and if you do get turned out, it will go to others
who serve out their time”? Or, looking at it in an-
other light, may it not, when the clerk or soldier
enters its employ, say, “If you work for me for so
many years, and I don’t meantime dismiss you, I
will at the end give you so much in every future
year, and you need do no more work for it”? — It
will readily be seen, that here, in a very finely
drawn line, comes up the old question as to the
powers of a government. Shall a government be
“strong” or “weak”; paternal and grandmother-
ly, or not? shall it build and run railroads and tel-
egraph lines, subsidize and regulate industries and
arts and Society, and institute social reforms? or
shall it let all these things arrange themselves, so
far as the rights of its citizens remain unimpaired,
and confine itself closely to the business as we have
defined it? The moment discretion is given a
legislature or other governing body, to create and
distribute funds for servants who may become in-
valid; or to confer in the future benefits on other
servants if they perform good service; or to make
any arrangement other than one of a strictly busi-
ness nature, whether it be to establish an insur-
ance fund or otherwise; that moment it takes to
itself new powers, and these seem to us to be
dangerous in their tendency, as liable to abuse.
Their utility in fact we will deal with next.
There are a great many arguments on both sides
of the theory of the government question, and this
is not the place to examine them. (See GOVERN-
MENT INTERVENTION, and other articles.) Each
individual looks at it from his own standpoint.
Here the writer can only express his personal
Opinion, that for a government to do anything
more than pay its servants so much for so much
work on an ordinary business or cash basis, is
wrong in theory and outside its proper powers. —
2. Utility. It is admitted, that if it can be proved
that any great advantage would accrue to the state
by the introduction of such a system, that would in
Some degree atone for its wrongfulness in theory;
but it is submitted that that fact can not be proven,
and the balance of evidence tends to prove the re-
verse. — To put the question broadly, do public
servants perform better work for the public if they
have a pension in prospect? They ought not to;
if a man undertakes to do work for so much, he
should do his work honestly and completely, no
doubt. TIt is therefore not the duty of govern.
ment to try and get them to work harder by
promise of a higher, even if it be a deferred, re-
ward. But, as Gen. Washington said to a com-
mittee of Congress, Jan. 29, 1778, in urging the
adoption of a half-pay system for the army, “A
Small knowledge of human nature will convince us
that with far the greater part of mankind interest
is the governing principle, and that almost every
man is more or less under its influence. * *
Few men are capable of making a continual sacri-
fice of all views of private interest or advantage to
the common good. It is in vain to exclaim against
the depravity of human nature on this account: the
fact is so; the experience of every age and nation
has proved it; and we must, in a great measure,
change the constitution of man before we can
make it otherwise. No institution not built on
the presumptive truth of these maxims can suc-
ceed.” Mr. Eaton has taken, as the motto for
his book on civil service, already quoted from,
a saying of John Locke's : “I think every one,
according to the way Providence has placed him
in, is bound to labor for the public good so far
as he is able.” We may notice the different
ways of looking at a thing which a practical and
a theoretical statesman have, and pass on to the
point we wish to make, which is rather, can the
public get better servants by giving so much an-
nual salary and a pension at the end of a certain
period, or by giving a higher annual salary and
no pension? For no pension fund can be insti-
tuted on sound principles if the salaries are to be
as high as if there were no pensions. In France,
a few years since, the amount derived from the
pension fund was only one-third of the amount of
pensions to be paid, proving the existence of a
vicious system. — The advantages of the system
are very well put by Mr. Worthington C. Ford:
“In the administration of government, there is
employed a large number of public servants, serv-
ants of many grades, who give their time and en-
ergies to the performance of their duties. As a
rule, and the exceptions are to be found Only in
the higher positions, the salary these servants re-
ceive is their only resource. Let the government
be overthrown, or let the offices be abolished, and
these men are thrown upon the world to obtain
their living in other occupations through what-
ever capacity they have developed in the public
employ. Nor are these the only chances of hard-
ship that they must fear. Sickness and infirmity
may come upon them and render them incapable
of performing any task whatever. They have the
alternative then of becoming a burden on their
relations or a charge upon the state or locality in
which they reside. In order to prevent this, and
in consideration of long and faithful service, most
governments have instituted a system of pensions.
This is all the more necessary where the Salary of
public employés is somewhat lower than those
that can be obtained in other walks of life. It
UNITED STATES PENSION LAws, ETC.
1023
might be added that this is rarely the case, and it
is certainly not so in the United States, where,
through a variety of causes, many of which were
intended to have but a temporary effect, the sal-
aries of public servants are very much higher
than those obtained for the same kind of labor in
trade and industry.” “In theory nothing could
be more just than such a system. As the right to
a pension is generally guarded by some restric-
tions, such as age, time of service, position in the
civil Service, special disability, etc., it is practically
a premium offered to such as will perform the
necessary conditions, and so insures a better class
of public officers. It encourages a strict perform-
ance of duty on the part of the employé, and in-
spires him to discharge the functions of his office
to the best of his ability in order that he may in
the end Secure this reward. It holds out to him
the promise of a competence in his old age or in
the event of any infirmity that might make him
unfit for labor, and gives him the encouragement
that after his death his family will not be left
wholly in want. He more cheerfully gives the
best of his years to toil and fatigue when conscious
that the benefits derived from his labor will not
end with his death or incapacity. A pension is
not, in Such cases, a charitable donation, nor a
gift bestowed without any return. It is, as I have
said, rather an insurance fund; a gift, if you
please, but one that is earned by honest toil and
by a devotion to the employer's interest.” But
Mr. Ford adds: “The expediency or necessity of
civil pensions has never been recognized in this
Country. The pay is good, and there is always an
abundance of applications for positions. The in-
troduction of civil service rules has made the occu-
pants of positions more certain of retaining them
during good behavior, and has thus given a reason
even for reducing salaries. * * Whenever a
special case of hardship occurs in the civil service
it is usually treated by a special enactment of
congress.” The three general objects which, we
* In justice to Mr. Ford it should be added, that he draws
a distinction between pensions granted to civil servants of
the government and those granted to military and naval serv-
ants, and this distinction is manifestly a just one to make.
While the dangers of corruption attending the liberal use of
civil pensions are many, and in fact might be said to be in-
separable from the system, there exist strong reasons for
granting allowances for military and naval service when there
“exist also the proper safeguards against abuse. If there be
any principle recognized and established in this country it is
that pensions must be confined to those who were separated
by the nature of their service from the great mass of the com-
munity, and who devoted themselves exclusively to military
duties; who laid aside the character of a citizen, and became
a soldier; who, in abandoning the pursuits, extinguished also
the habits, of private life. But, in bestowing military pen-
sions, it should be recognized that provision should be made
only for those who, being unable to support themselves, are
necessarily thrown upon public or private charity. “It
would not, I think,” wrote Attorney General Rush in 1815,
“be going too far to say that in every case where an officer or
private loses his health while in Service, to such a degree as to
be disabled from performing his duty any more, he is contem-
plated, prima facie, as an object of this charitable relief from
the legislature.” And more recently the expediency of mili-
tary and naval pensions was defended in congress as follows:
“The Service which the soldier renders may be voluntary, but
are told, are gained by a pension fund, are, there-
fore : 1, increased happiness on both sides ; 2,
economy—smaller wages are given, and the bal-
ance accumulated, but it is not every one who
comes to get his pension, and therefore by the pen-
Sions of so many is the government a gainer; 3,
it is not a service which he may give or withhold at pleasure,
but one which, if not offered, may be compelled by the strong
arm of the government. The recognition by the state of the
distinguished military services of its citizens in its support
and defense in the form of a pension, though sometimes
granted as a charity, or as an act of grace, is generally given
in fulfillment of some promise made by the government, or
inducement held out to the soldier either at the time or after
his enlistment. It is not given to every man who performs
military Service, however distinguished and meritorious that
Service may be, but to those only who receive wounds or
contract disease while in the line of duty. The purpose and
design of the government is to make the soldier good, as far
as money can do it, for the injuries he received, or in other
Words, to make up to him as much as he could have earned
at his trade or vocation if he had not been wounded or had
not contracted the disease. Under this rule—and in my judg-
ment it is both just and magnanimous—no man is entitled to
a pension for military service except those who have received
disabling wounds or injuries during the war, and the widows,
minor children and dependent relatives of those who were
killed or who have since died from the effects of such service.
This is the humane policy recognized and acted upon by
every civilized country on the globe. It has been truly said
that every pensioner is, in one sense, a burden upon his fel-
low-citizens, either directly or indirectly; and no reason can
exist for imposing such a burden on behalf of men who did
Only their plain, simple duty as citizens, and received no ma-
terial injury in its performance. A disabled soldier is not a
pauper for taking a pension. A well man would be nothing
else if he were to accept one. For this reason I do not deem
it right or expedient to select out any particular class of sol-
diers, or men who rendered any particular service, or suffered
any peculiar hardships and privations, and pension them, re-
gardless of whether they can show any pensionable disability
or not. Under the lenient rules adopted by the present com-
missioner of pensions, every soldier who was wounded or
contracted disease while on active duty in the field, or during
confinement in rebel prisons, can, iſ not already pensioned,
apply for and receive one now under the general law. It
is impossible for congress to grade and adjust pensions to
the different degrees of suffering and hardship endured in the
service. All that we can do is to grant them in cases where
the evidence shows there is a pensionable disability; but if
we should go beyond this rule we should be simply pension-
ing a large number of men, who, while they endured great
suffering and privations, received no material injury, and are
now able to earn their living. In this connection I desire
also to say that I would not create a civil pension list by
granting pensions to men who are injured in the civil service
of the government. They go into that service voluntarily,
and can not be compelled to enter it against their will, and
can leave when they please. When they assume the duties
they take all the risks, and are paid for doing so. I believe
pensions should only be granted to men who have been in-
jured in the military or naval service of the country; and,
without stopping here to elaborate the point, I will simply
say that in my judgment we are not called upon in granting
pensions to break down the barriers set up by our fathers be-
tween the military and civil service, and launch out into a
sea which I fear would prove shoreless and bottomless.”
Nor is it any condemnation of such pensions to point out the
great frauds that have arisen under various systems. That
is the fault of the laws. “The state has in time of war a
fundamental right to the money, the services, and, if need
be, the life of every citizen, without other compensation than
the security and protection it affords him at all times. The
pension laws are not passed to secure to the maimed survivor
of the war, or to the helpless dependents on those who lost
their lives in the struggle, a right existent independently and
in the nature of things, but as a voluntary and fitting as-
sumption of care over those who, in the service of the nation,
have lost the ability to care for themselves. It is doubly
1024
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
permanency in office, by increasing the value of
the salary and office as time goes on. All of these
points are involved in the general question of util-
ity. — In reply to this argument let us quote Mr.
Bentham, when discussing his proposition, that
such pensions are needless, and therefore given in
waste. In his “Constitutional Code,” under the
head Finance, he says: “Labor applied directly
to a man’s own use, or indirectly in exchange for
an equivalent given by an individual in return for
it, is one source of subsistence: labor employed
for an equivalent in the service of government,
that is, of the public at large, is another source. In
the first case, generally speaking, no such allow-
ance of reward, after service has ceased, has place.
In the case of him whose subsistence is derived
from dealings with the public at large, as in the
case of a wholesale or a retail trader, a master
manufacturer, an artisan, or a manufacturer, it is
impossible. In the case of habitual service ren-
dered by contract to an individual there is no cus-
tom for it. The case of incapacity produced by
age or disease is a case equally open to expectancy
in both instances. From the time of his embarking
in his profit-seeking occupation a man makes for
all such contingencies such provision as his means
enable him,and his prudence disposes him, to make.
For the securing to individuals any such extraor-
dinary supply at the expense of the public there is,
if there be any difference, less demand in the case
of an occupation pursued by the rendering of Serv-
ice to the public for hire, than in the case of him
whose subsistence as above is derived from com-
mercial dealings with individuals. In the case of
a public functionary a man’s income is completely
certain; certain as to its existence, certain as to
its quantity. In the other case it is altogether un-
certain in both respects.” — Another objection is,
that there is a tendency, under a promise of pen-
sions and rewards, in government Servants to en-
deavor to secure the approbation of their imme-
diate superiors in ways outside the duties of their
office for a long enough time or in a sufficiently in-
tense degree for them to obtain the reward. And
wice versa in the case of the Superiors toward their
inferiors and superiors both. It is to their interest
to remain together for the given time, and as long
as they approve of each other reciprocally they are
certain of their pension. This gives rise to a class
and privileged feeling among the employés, which
in turn causes an inattention to and carelessness of
the interests of private individuals, more noticea-
ble, and perhaps largely on this account, in the
public offices in Great Britain than here, where
the government servants have been, if anything,
too independent of their official Superiors and too
dependent on extra-official protection. Mr. Eaton
urges, as a reason in its favor in his book, that
“the provision it makes for old age and misfor-
demoralizing and doubly shameful that beneficent laws like
these should be made the cover of fraud and robbery—it not
only despoils the public treasury and unjustly burdens the
shoulders of the tax-paying masses, but it delays and often
fatally prejudices the cause of really deserving applicants.”
tunes, besides promoting a better feeling in the
service toward the state, and making effective dis-
cipline easier, actually enables the state to pur-
chase the services of its officers at a less cost to
the public treasury. The allowances for special
merit and the deductions for bad conduct are based
on records kept in the departments, and they are
considered to have a salutary influence (analogous
to promotions, prize money and brevet rank in the
naval and military service) in stimulating honora-
ble exertions in the public interest.” This is our
objection put in another way. It creates an
esprit du Corps among the young people in a cir-
cumlocution office like that in an army. The
longer the clerks are there the more they become,
superiors and inferiors, knit together in interests,
as against the outside world. An official class, or
even aristocracy, is created.—If a pension is to be:
obtained at the end of a term of years, the nearer
that end comes the harder and more ungrateful it
becomes for a superior to dismiss an inferior, often.
in disregard of the wishes of his own superiors, es-
pecially in countries where a free press and a pop-
ular assembly give the inferior opportunity for
revenge and retaliation. In other words, it may
tend to permanence in office, but the permanence
is not of a healthy kind, and is not so dependent
merely on good work as it would otherwise be. —
Again, it is to be remembered that the people fill-
ing the positions go into them at their own re-
quest and wish, and they give so much work for
so much money. When they first enter, if they
find themselves underpaid they may resign, and
go into another business. In every country there
are more applicants for government positions than.
there are positions for them to occupy. It is not
necessary, therefore, that any more favorable pay
should be given to such employés than to those
in another occupation. Nor is there any reason
on account of the nature of the work. And in
this country, at any rate, the clerks in the public
offices would strongly object to any pension fund
being instituted if their salary should be lowered
in consequence. Most American clerks are quite
capable of investing their surplus income them-
selves, and they would say that they did not need
to have the government, and the government had
no right to, do it for them. — Again, it causes poor
work in a great many cases. Many men will
cling on after their time for usefulness is entirely
over, merely to get their pension, or a larger one
than they would get if they were to then retire.
This often happens in England, although the com-
missioners do their best to prevent it. We have
in this country recently had an example in a very
high place, where a justice of the United States
Supreme court, long past any ability to do any
work, insisted on keeping his place until his pen-
sion should accrue, and so doing a great injury to
the business interests of the country. — In this
country it is very doubtful whether any salaries
could be lowered for such a purpose, and So there-
would be very little economy. The salaries of the
United States judges were not lowered. When pen-
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
1025
sions were extended to them. Besides, if our
other suggestions are true, if the service became
less effective on account of such a system, it would
be poor economy to introduce it just to gain a
few lapsed pensions. The making money out of
its employés in such a way by the government in
this country would only create disgust and disaf-
fection on the part of the employés; and, through
them, of the public. — Again, there are computed
to be over one hundred thousand civil servants in
the employ of the national government in this
country, besides the Ordinary employés, messen-
gers and lower servants employed about a govern-
ment office and building, numbering perhaps as
many more. This fact alone ought to be enough
to deter any one from making any attempt to in-
troduce such a system here. — The principle sug-
gested by its advocates is to institute a pension
fund, like any insurance fund. “The average
life of the persons who are to share in the benefits
of the fund should be accurately determined, in
order to learn how large a proportion of the total
number will be able to perform all the require-
ments, and be able in the end to obtain their por-
tion. This involves a determination of the death
rate, the probability of life. From these data may
be found the actual sum that must be set aside
each year in order that the pensions falling due
may be met. If, to take a simple example, it is
found that the average number of persons entitled
to a pension of say $500 each year is three, at least
$1,500 must annually be obtained from the pen-
sion fund. If such a system were instituted here
it would probably be carried on much as the naval
pension fund is. The secretary of the navy, as
trustee, invests so much of the fund then in the
United States treasury as may not be required for
the payment of the naval pensions for the then cur-
rent fiscal year, together with the interest of the
preceding year, and he gets 3 per cent. On it. Un-
der section 4759 the privateersman fund is main-
tained. Two per cent. On the net amount after de-
ducting all charges and expenditures of the prize
money arising from captured vessels and cargoes,
and on the net amount of the salvage of vessels
and cargoes recaptured by the private armed ves-
sels of the United States, shall be secured and paid
to the collector or chief officer of the customs at the
port where such vessel comes, or with the United
States consul or agent, if out of the United States.
And the moneys arising thereupon are pledged by
the government of the United States as a fund for
the support and maintenance of the widows and
orphans of such persons as may be slain or wound-
ed, etc., on board of the private armed vessels of
the United States, in any engagement with the
enemy. The secretary of the navy is trustee to
assign and distribute this fund according to law.
(Rev. Stat., secs. 4753, 4754.)—The history of pen-
sion legislation in the United States forms a most
interesting and curious chapter, and in no other
nation has the principle of rewarding military
and naval service been carried to such a limit as
by Congress. Early in the revolution it was seen
- 184 VOL. III. —A 65
that the discipline of the troops depended much
upon the characters of the officers placed over
them ; so congress recommended to the several
states that they should use their utmost endeavors
to appoint in the service men of honor and of
known abilities. On Oct. 7, 1776, as an encour-
agement for men of that class to enlist as commis-
sioned officers, their monthly pay was increased,
and somewhat later it was resolved that those who
should continue in the service till the end of the
war should receive half pay for seven years from
the establishment of peace. This applied only to
military service, and was more in the nature of a
bounty than a pension; still it contained the germs
of a pension system. Meantime, however, owing
to the difficulties which arose from the inability
of congress to fulfill its obligations save in a great-
ly depreciated paper currency, it became evident
that few officers could remain, even if willing, in
active service till the end of the war, without
making great personal sacrifices. And, although
Washington prepared a scheme of half pay and
pensionary establishments, and strongly urged
upon congress the necessity of making some pro-
visions, the matter dragged, opposed by some as
tending to create a standing army, and by others,
because they thought the states should be first
consulted. The result was a compromise measure.
All military officers, commissioned by congress,
who should continue in the service during the
war, and not holding any office of profit in the
states, should be entitled to receive half pay for
seven years after the war, provided that this gra-
tuity should extend to no officer who should not
take an oath of allegiance to the United States,
and actually reside within the same. The pro-
visions of this act were in 1780 made to apply to
the widows and orphans of such officers as had
died in service. Non-commissioned officers were
to receive a specific reward of $80 at the end of
the war. This measure, however, did not allay
the discontent of the officers, and in 1780 an act
was passed granting half pay for life to offi-
cers who served till the close of the war. It is
curious to find a law passed three years later com-
muting this half pay for life into full pay for five
years, and reciting, that “as the officers of the
several lines under the immediate command of
his excellency General Washington, did, by their
late memorial, transmitted by their committee,
represent to congress, that the half pay granted
by sundry resolutions, was regarded in an unfa-
vorable light by the citizens of some of these
states,” etc. In 1780 some of the states had al-
ready made provisions for their officers. For ex-
ample, Pennsylvania granted half pay for life, and
the result was that the troops from this state were
in excellent condition, few resignations being
made, while in the quotas of other states resigna-
tions were frequent. — But it would be a mistake
to imagine that the results of these laws were at
all in proportion to the promises they contain.
When in 1783 half pay for life was commuted into
full pay for five years, certificates bearing 6 per
1026
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
cent. annual interest were issued, and because of
the refusal of the states to fulfill the requisitions
of congress, the value of these certificates became
greatly depreciated, falling until they could com-
mand but one-eighth of their nominal value. The
army was disbanded, and the officers were com-
pelled by their necessities to part with their cer-
tificates for whatever they could obtain.
end of eight years the principal and interest were
funded at 3 per cent., but the paper was now
chiefly in the hands of speculators, and it was not
until nearly forty years had elapsed that congress
undertook to do justice to the revolutionary offi-
cers. When the matter came up for settlement
in 1826, out of 2,480 commissioned officers (exclu-
sive of foreigners) who came out of the war, only
230 were alive. In all that time there existed a
deeply rooted opposition to pensions, as a system
of favoritism by which those in power made pro-
vision, at the public expense, for their friends and
followers. — Up to this point, however, we have
been concerned only with the officers of the army.
In 1785 congress recommended to the states the
propriety of making adequate provision for inva-
lids. In 1788 it was further resolved that ‘‘ each
state shall have credit in its general account with
the United States, for such sums as may become
due to invalids.” Subsequent laws, both of a
public and a private character, were passed ap-
plying to invalids, and in the organization of the
army a like provision was incorporated. By 1806
a general system of pensions had been framed,
and in 1808 the United States assumed the state
pension obligations. From that time until 1818
the principle was settled that all persons disabled
in the course of military or naval service should
be provided for at the public expense, whether
they had served in the land or sea service of the
forces of the United States, or any particular
state in the regular corps, or the militia, or as vol-
unteers. The law, however, was surrounded by
many safeguards against fraud, and a pension was
to be allowed only for disabilities incurred in the
service. So limited and confined was it that the
abuse arising under it was comparatively unim-
portant. Abuse, however, there was, and in 1804
it called out the saying that “the revolutionary
claimant never dies; he is immortal.”— In 1818
the first departure from this conservative policy
was made, and was followed by others in 1820
and 1823. On March 18, 1818, an act was passed
granting pensions to all who had served in the
army of the revolution “for a period of nine
months or longer at any period of the war”; and
“who, by reason of reduced circumstances, shall
stand in need of assistance from their country for
support.” Here the principle which limited the
granting of pensions to such as were disabled in
actual service was abandoned, and the length of
service and the poverty of the pensioner are made
the conditions on which pensions were hereafter
to depend. It was doubtless the intention of the
framers of the bill to have its provisions apply
only to those who had during the revolution given
At the
up their private pursuits and devoted themselves
exclusively to military service, and not to men who
had rendered casual service ; and in support of
this view it may be said, that, as originally intro-
duced, the bill would cover the demands of those
who had served for three years, and who stood in
need of assistance from the government for their
Support. During the passage of the bill the three
years' requirement was displaced by one of nine
months, and in that form the measure became a
law. It was estimated that the annual charge upon
the treasury would amount to about $160,000, but
the results proved that this estimate was far from
correct, and that the door had been opened to
frauds so extensive that they became unimportant
Only in the light of Subsequent pension legislation.
27,948 persons applied for the benefit of the act of
1818—a number greater than that of Washington's
army at any period of the war, and exceeding the
whole number of soldiers that could by the estab-
lished rate of mortality be supposed to be alive in
1818. The claims of upward of 18,000 were ad-
mitted, and it was afterward discovered that fully
one-third of this number had no legal claim to
government bounty. The money required to pay
these claims was between two and three millions
annually; the appropriations for this branch of
expenditure being in the first year under the act,
$1,847,900, and in the next, $2,766,440. Then
congress interfered, as the country was becoming
alarmed. Men who had never served at all, or
for very short periods, men who had given away
their property to their children, or conveyed it in
trust for their benefit; in short, every one who
was old enough to have served in the revolution
found little difficulty in getting himself placed on
the pensions list. To correct this open scandal a
law was passed May 1, 1820, which retained the
“nine months” and “indigent circumstances”
requirements, but provided greater safeguards
against fraud by requiring every applicant to
submit a schedule of his property and to take
the necessary oaths. This caused 6,000 names to
be stricken from the list. In 1829 an attempt
to pass what was known as the “mammoth pen-
sion bill” called out a vigorous protest from Mr.
Hayne. Its effects, he said, would be to open
the door of the treasury to “mere sunshine and
holiday Soldiers, the hangers-on of the camp, men
of straw, substitutes who never enlisted until
after the preliminaries of peace were signed.”
— An act of June 7, 1832, was followed by
more extensive frauds, and this was adverted
to in the president's message for 1834. The pro-
visions of the pension laws had by this time
been extended so as to apply to wars other than
the revolution, and in subsequent years they were
made to include all military service wherever
rendered. A list of the wars will be found at
the end of this article. The results of legisla-
tion are shown in the following brief statement
contained in a report to congress made in 1834:
“There are supposed to be now living about 42,-
600 persons who receive pensions or gratuities
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
1027
from the government under different laws. Of
these about 3,900 are invalid pensions, 10,500
come under the act of 1818, 700 under that of
1828, and 27,500 under the law of June 7, 1832.
The amount expended in the previous year reached
three millions of dollars.” — It would be unprofit-
able even to attempt to trace minutely the effects
of the many laws relating to pensions passed be-
tween 1832 and 1860. Enough has been said to
show that the tendency of such legislation was to
pass from a strictly defined and on the whole well-
guarded system, to one which allowed extensive
frauds, and in reality gave the government's
bounty to the undeserving. As the laws were
more generally applied, and included a greater
and greater number of subjects, the opportunity
for fraud was ever present, and was not allowed
to pass unnoticed. — The rebellion, however, gave
rise to some pension legislation which deserves
more than a cursory notice, because it gives ample
proof of the tendency of such laws to run into
wasteful expenditure, and also to become a political
engine, a device for gaining the votes of the “sol-
dier” population. It may be premised that pen-
sions were offered early in the war to secure vol-
unteers; and further, as every such volunteer was
subjected to a medical examination, and was—
at least theoretically—allowed to serve only when
sound in body, it followed, that, if he were not
sound at the end of the war, he must have been
disabled or become diseased while in service. This
fact becomes important in the light of legislation
after the close of the war. — Since the rebellion
the following are the more important laws relating
to the granting of pensions to soldiers and their
families : July 14, 1862; July 4, 1864; March 3,
1865; June 6, 1866; July 25, 1866; July 27, 1866;
July 7, 1870; July 8, 1870; June 6, 1874; June
18, 1874; June 20, 1874; June 22, 1874 (consoli-
dation act); Aug. 15, 1876; Feb. 27, 1877;(Feb. 28,
1877; March 3, 1877; March 8, 1878; March 9,
1878; June 17, 1878; June 18, 1878; June 20, 1878;
Jan. 25, 1879 (arrears of pensions act); March 1,
1879; June 9, 1880; June 16, 1880; Feb. 26, 1881;
Aug. 7, 1882; and in addition to these, countless
bills of a public or private nature became laws or
were rejected. Under these laws the most liberal
provisions were made for those who had suffered,
directly or indirectly, while in the army during
the rebellion. It is doubtful whether any other
nation has provided so liberally for its disabled
soldiers and seamen, or for the dependent relatives.
of the fallen. “If any person, whether officer or
soldier, belonging to the militia of any state, and
called out into the service of the United States, be
wounded or disabled while in actual service, he
shall be taken care of and provided for at the pub-
lic expense.” (Revised Statutes, § 1639.) This
principle has governed the pension legislation of
the country almost from the beginning (1792). The
government undertook to make good, as far as
possible, the loss of health or members, when such
loss was incurred strictly in its military or naval
Service, and to furnish regular pecuniary aid to
the families of those whose lives or health were
thus sacrificed. From a very simple impulse of
justice has sprung an entire system of rewards, or
rather of recompense, which has grown to propor-
tions little anticipated by those who framed the
first laws. In place of laws for particular emer-
gencies, cautiously limited to retrospective action,
we now have statutes which regard on an equal
plane all branches of the service, regulars, volun-
teers and militia, and further providing for the
future as well as for the past. The few simple
and efficacious safeguards which were imposed
upon the earlier laws have been abolished, or so
modified as to be, to all intents and purposes, null
and void, and step by step, as the system was ex-
panded, its benefits have largely fallen to the un-
deserving, to professional schemers for public
plunder. And of this the arrears of pensions act
is a notorious example, the history of which throws
a strong light upon the methods of shrewd lobby-
ists who thrive upon the necessities of others.
Briefly stated, that history is as follows: The laws
then in force, it was claimed, were faulty, and it
was expedient to abolish certain inequalities which
the pension system was believed to contain. Under
the existing acts certain restrictions or limitations
were imposed upon the time within which appli-
cation for a pension should be made. If a man
was unable to secure the necessary papers and
proofs required by the practice of the bureau
within the appointed time, his pension could not
be granted until the defects were remedied and
the proper documents filed in the department. It
thus happened, that, while many obtained pensions
beginning from the date of discharge or disability,
a large number of others, who were equally de-
serving, had their claims for many years delayed,
and when allowed drew their bounty from the
date of the issue of the proper documents, and not
from the date of discharge or disability. The law
prevented any dating back, and it was claimed
that as a simple act of justice this defect should be
remedied and the operation of the system made
more equal. “By the act of July 14, 1862, the
first on the subject of pensions growing out of the
war of the rebellion, it was provided that if the
soldier made application within one year after his
discharge, his pension should commence with the
date of such discharge, but if he failed to make
his application until after the expiration of the
year, then his pension, when granted, should com-
mence with the date of such application. This
was a statute of limitations of one year, and de-
prived the crippled soldier of one year's pension
money or more, if, for any reason, he was not
prompt in presenting his claim within the time
prescribed. It was a vicious principle with which
to begin our pension system. No government
can afford to higgle with its preservers over the
price of their blood, nor is it a becoming thing to
thrust a contemptible statute of limitations, the
last resort of a dishonest debtor, into the faces of
the maimed who are living, or of the widows and
orphans of the dead, in full payment of the most
1028
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
sacred obligations ever incurred by a nation in the
history of the world. By subsequent acts amend-
atory of the act of 1862, the statute of limitation,
or the time within which to file an application so
as to carry a pension from the date of discharge
or death, was extended first to three and then to
five years, and it stood at this latter period in
January, 1879. The arrears act was designed to
eliminate from the then existing law that meanest
form of defense to a debt ever interposed by an
individual or a government, the defense of the
statute of limitations. It destroyed the detestable
argument so often heard, that the lapse of time
can pay an honest debt; that if you can success-
fully evade the payment of a claim for a certain
number of years, either through your own inge-
nuity or the ignorance and helplessness of your
impoverished creditor, the claim becomes an
old claim; then, in the pompous and stupid par-
lance of the day, a stale claim, and that at this
point it is to be considered paid and wiped out.”
— It would, however, be a mistake to suppose
that the law arose from such philanthropic mo-
tives as the sentences just quoted from a speech in
defense of it would indicate. In fact, it was noth-
ing more than a piece of selfish and interested
legislation, originated by a ring of pension claim
agents who made a living by trading upon the
necessities of deserving pensioners, and it was by
their efforts more than by any other influence,
that the arrears act was hurried through congress.
In 1871 the total number of applications filed was
43,969; in 1872, 26,396; in 1873, 18,303; in 1874,
16,734; and in 1875, 18,704. The claim agents
saw that their business was falling off, and took
measures for increasing it. In 1875 and 1876 they
had begun their peculiar methods, and were flood-
ing the country with blank petitions. The com-
missioner of pensions said, in his report for 1878:
“A comparatively small number of profession-
al claim agents and claim firms at Washington
and some other points of the country, through the
intervention of sub-agents, and by extensive ad-
Vertising, employing for that purpose in some in-
stances sheets issued in the form of periodical
newspapers purporting to be published in the in-
terest of the soldiers, the columns of which con-
tained matter in which apparent anxiety for the
soldiers’ welfare and appeals to their love of gain
were cunningly intermingled, always representing
the advertisers as in the enjoyment of special and
peculiar facilities for the successful prosecution
of claims, and usually adding the suggestion that
no charge would be made unless a pension should
be obtained.” The result of this activity was to
bring before congress a host of petitions praying
for further legislation. Already a measure pro-
viding for arrears of pensions had been introduced
into the 44th congress, but it was killed in com-
mittee, and in the next congress a like measure
promised to experience the same fate, when it was
unexpectedly taken up and passed under a sus-
pension of the rules without debate, and appar-
ently without having been considered by the
proper committee. The bill was rushed through.
the Senate in the same unceremonious manner,
and in the short debate there is an absence of any
effort to discover what would be the effects of the
bill should it become a law. Making an estimate
based upon a communication from the commis-
sioner of pensions prepared three years previously,
it was stated that the arrears might amount to
nineteen or twenty millions annually. The secre-
tary of the interior thought that $41,000,000 would
be all that was needed to meet the provisions of the
new law, and accepting this estimate, the secre-
tary of the treasury asked for authority to issue
bonds to that amount. This estimate was pre-
pared, however, after the measure was passed and
had received the signature of the president. The
pension bureau never made an estimate of the cost.
of the arrears bill until after it had become a law.
Such was the loose manner of framing and dis-
cussing an innportant law. — The truth, however,
was soon seen. The practical operation of the
law was to offer a bonus of $1,000 down, in ad-
dition to subsequent periodical payments, to all
persons who might thereafter file and prosecute to
a successful issue, pension claims against the gov-
ernment. Even while the bill was in the hands.
of the president, its real results were beginning to
be foreshadowed. Secretary Sherman told his
associates in the cabinet that it would require an
expenditure of $150,000,000. On Jan. 25, Secre-
tary Schurz read in a cabillet meeting a letter from
the commissioner of pensions, saying that the bill
would require an immediate expenditure of
$36,000,000, and largely increased annual requisi-
tions. In spite of these damaging statements the
president, Mr. Hayes, signed the bill. In Febru-
ary, 1879, Secretary Schurz addressed a letter to
congress calling attention to the vast sum prob-
ably involved by the arrears act, and urging upon
that body, in the most emphatic terms, the neces-
sity of adopting legislation to protect the govern-
ment against the frauds which the new measure
would be sure to encourage. At once the flood
gates were opened. In his report for the year end-
ing June 30, 1879, a date less than six months after
the passage of the act, the commissioner said that
the new claims of invalids, widows, minor chil-
dren and dependent relatives, had come in at “an
unprecedented rate.” The claims of invalids, he
said, were more than double in number those of
any previous year, except 1866 (just at the close of
the war), and nearly double that year, while other
claims were large in an almost equal proportion.
Furthermore, at the time the arrears act was.
passed there were about 100,000 unscttled claims
which were regarded as alive and pending; besides
these, there were not less than 80,000 on the files.
which had been rejected for one reason or another.
Among these claims, which were on the files and
had not been admitted, were about 45,000 which
were counted as dead claims, the claimants hav-
ing abandoned their prosecution, or died leaving
them unsettled. The arrears act not only brought.
in new original claims at the rate of 10,290 per
UNITED STATES PENSION LAws, ETC.
1029
#
month for the whole period of seventeen months
from February, 1879, to June 30, 1880—while the
average from July 1, 1878, to Feb. 1, 1879, was
Only 1,597 per month—but it revived from thirty
thousandtoforty thousand old cases which were on
the rejected files. The drain on the treasury was
greatly increased. The largest annual disburse-
ment previous to the passage of this act was in
1871, and amounted to about thirty-three millions.
In 1878 it was $26,844,415; in 1879, $33,780,526;
in 1880, $57,240,540; and in 1881, $50,620,538.
In this last year the commissioner estimated that
the act would consume, sooner or later, more than
$510,000,000. This piece of legislation, which is
little else than a gigantic swindle, has remained
unchanged in spite of efforts to overturn it. It
was conceived for private advantage, and carried
through without consideration or debate, and by
means of political pressure. It is the old story of
the praetorian guards repeated; the soldiers' votes
formed the main object to be secured by its
passage. — One more point deserves attention, as
showing the great stimulus exerted by pension
legislation. When the bill granting pensions to
all the survivors of the war of 1812, and to the
Soldiers' widows, was before congress, it was gen-
erally asserted and believed that the number of
persons entitled to such pensions, about seventy
years after the war, must necessarily be small.
The armies of the United States in 1812–14 had
not been large, and the number of people who
attain the age of eighty or ninety years can never
be very large. Yet in the table we give, we find
more than 7,000 survivors and more than 24,000
widows drawing pensions ! “Either the war of
1812 must have had a mysteriously vitalizing
effect upon those in any way engaged in it, or the
passage of the pension bill must have resuscitated a
large number of those who, in the ordinary course
of nature, had died years ago.” And in his report
for 1882 the commissioner of pensions makes some
interesting speculations regarding the pension pop-
ulation of the country. “The proposition is as
follows: How many persons are there now living
who served in the army during the late rebellion,
or who bore a pensionable relation to those who
served, who have not yet applied for a pension?
The adjutant general of the United States reports
the following aggregate of enlistment for the
different periods of service:
60 days-------------- 9 months ----------- 89,899
3 months.----------- 108,416 || 1 year -------------- 393,706
100 days-------------- 2 2 years ------------- 44
4 months ----------- 3 years ------------- 2,028,630
6 months.----------- 26,118 4 years ------------- ,042
8 months.----------- 3 | Aggregate ---------- 2,780,178
Taking this as a basis of my calculation, I have
endeavored to ascertain the number of individual
enlistments; that is, excluding second, third,
fourth, and subsequent enlistments of the same
person. The result of my investigation and es-
timate upon this point shows an aggregate of
2,049,969 different individuals who enlisted for
greater or less periods during the war. To this
number should be added the number of persons
Serving in the regular army and navy at the com-
mencement of the war, viz., 16,422. So that the
grand total of individual persons who entered the
Service during the war may be approximately
stated to be 2,063,391. Up to July 1, 1882, there
have been filed by army invalids, 450,890 applica-
tions for pensions. Up to the same date there
have been filed 294,277 applications on behalf of
the service of deceased soldiers. There have
been filed by navy invalids 7,633, and by those
representing deceased sailors, 3,294. This makes
an aggregate of those who have applied for pen-
sion of 756,119 out of the whole number who en-
listed, as before stated. As near as I can ascertain,
there are about 86,800 representatives of deceased
Soldiers who have not yet applied for pension, and
1,000,469 survivors of the war who have not yet
applied for pension, and 220,000 who died during
and since the war, who left no pensionable relatives
surviving them. * * The general proposition,
however, is presented, with the best available in-
formation at hand, that there is a surviving soldier
population of a little over ten hundred thousand,
out of which claims for pension in the future may
be made by those who incurred pensionable disa-
bilities.”—In the United States special acts have, as
we have said, with great frequency been passed for
pensioning any person not falling within the pro-
visions of the law in force at any given time.
For instance, cap. 43, approved June 17, 1844:
“Be it enacted, etc., that the secretary of war be
and he is hereby authorized and directed to pay
to Milly, an Indian woman of the Creek nation,
and a daughter of the prophet Francis, a pension
at the rate of $96 per annum, payable semi-
annually, during her natural life, as a testimonial
of the gratitude and bounty of the United States,
for the humanity displayed by her in the war of
1817 and 1818 in saving the life of an American
citizen who was a prisoner in the hands of her
people, and about to be put to death by them,” etc.
In another case Baron de Steuben was granted a
pension of $2,500 a year during life; “which said
annuity shall be considered in full discharge of
all claims and demands whatever of the said
Frederick William de Steuben against the United
States.” Many of these private acts granted pen-
sions to private individuals who had, like Milly,
the Creek woman, performed some act of heroism.
They did not fall within the provisions of the
pension laws, and form the first exceptions to the
rule that in the United States there are no civil
pensions. Up to 1869, so far as the writer is
aware, such form the only exception. In that
year (Statutes at Large, vol. xvi., p. 45), a bill was
passed to increase the United States judges, and
it provided, among other things, that “any judge
of the United States, who, having held his com-
mission as such at least ten years, shall, after hav-
ing attained the age of seventy years, resign his
office, shall thereafter, during the residue of his
natural life, receive the same salary which was
by law payable to him at the time of his resigna-
tion.” — Since then, a new precedent has been
1030
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWs, ETC.
created as to ex-presidents' widows. First, Mrs.
Lincoln was given one, then Mrs. Garfield, then
The life-saving de-
Mrs. Polk and Mrs. Tyler.
partment has had a pension arrangement made by
law for a certain definite period. The internal
revenue servants and the railway mail servants
also have had endeavors for a pension system
made in congress in their behalf. Employés in
the quartermaster's and paymaster's departments
have received them. Also nurses, and in one case
the widow of a professor in the naval academy.
The New York municipal police have also had a
pension system introduced for their benefit, re-
cently. Many bills have been introduced for such
purposes, the most sweeping being Senator Ed-
munds’, in the 47th congress. Its object was to
allow all officers who may retire or be retired, one
year's pay; after fifteen years of service, two years'
full pay; after twenty years, a pension of half
pay; after twenty-five years, two-thirds pay; after
thirty years, three-fourths pay; after thirty-five
years, four-fifths pay; and after forty years, full
pay. — The subject of civil pensions has already
been discussed. It is not contended that so far
any but very excusable departures from the rules
thus far in force in this country have been made,
but every new departure from the same should
very closely examined and criticised as long as
the rule remains in force. If, after a full discus-
sion, it shall be decided to put in force a sys-
tem of civil pensioning, it will be an interesting,
but at the same time a dangerous, experiment.
—The existing provisions of the pension laws are
too numerous to be given in this article, and the
reader must be referred to the manuals prepared
under the authority of the bureau. A word,
however, as to the practice of the department.
The applicant for a pension first sends a declara-
tion, of which he can get a blank form from the
office, giving the necessary dates and figures and
circumstances, in detail. His identity must be
shown by the testimony of two credible witness-
es, who must appear before the officer. Then,
on receiving this, the interior department makes
application to the adjutant general and surgeon
general or to the navy department, as the case
may be, for the applicant’s record and evidence
as to the disability. If there be none, the appli-
Cant must obtain the affidavit of a commissioned
officer who had personal knowledge of the facts.
If there is no record even that there was a dis-
ability, the applicant must obtain the evidence of
the surgeon by whom he was treated, and must
prove that his own habits had no agency in the
production of such disability. If the disability
arises from disease, he must, in addition, get evi-
dence from his physician setting forth the history
of his disease and disability since its first appear-
ance. The administrator or executor of a soldier
is not entitled to arrears if the deceased had filed
no application. If claimant died pending appli-
Cation, the pension, when granted, does not be-
long to the estate, but to the widow or children.
If there are none, then the pension lapses, except
that the expenses of the claimant’s last sickness
may be paid. Death is to be presumed in cases
where more than two years elapse since the date
of the soldier's supposed death in action. No.
pension in hand or to come, or in whosever hands
it is, is liable to attachment, levy or seizure by or
under any legal or equitable process whatever.
No pensioner may have more than one pension at
a time. Helplessness means (act of $1876) depend-
ence on another, and also inability to gain a sub-
sistence by one’s own exertions. The abandon-
ment of her minor child by the widow forfeits
her title to a pension. Any pledge, mortgage,
sale, assignment or transfer of any right, claim or
interest in any pension, which has been or may
hereafter be granted, shall be void and of no
effect. No pension money will be paid to any
agent or attorney of the pensioner, and no agent
is to recognize any warrant or power of attorney,
except in the case of insane or Indian pensioners
or those under disabilities. (Act of Aug. 7, 1882.)
All pensioners must have been loyal during the
war of the rebellion. At the outbreak all the
pensioned in other wars who were in the insurgent
states were cut off, and also those in the northern
states known to be disloyal. In 1867, widows.
who could prove their loyalty during the war
were restored. A pardon by the president does.
not restore the right to the former or any pension.
As to what constitutes disloyalty, it has been held
that compulsory service with the rebels does not.
Making clothes and tents for them, does. Apply-
ing to the confederate congress for a federal pen-
sion does not. — On the next page we give a table
of the pension claims filed and allowed since 1861.
—There are fifty-eight agencies in the United
States. Payments are made quarterly, and there:
is a biennial examination of the pensioners. New
York contains the most pensioners, then Pennsyl-
vania, then Ohio; the commissioners have said.
that there is not a single county or parish in the
United States without its pensioner. The average.
age of our soldiers in 1863 was only twenty-six,
and so this state of affairs is likely to continue
for some time. Formerly the Washington office
kept an alphabetical list of the rejected and ad-
mitted pensioners and of the claims filed, but this.
was found very cumbersome, and now all names.
are indexed according to their companies and
military organizations. In the course of making
the change (November, 1880) more than 3,000
duplicate claims for pensions were found, and
fifty-three cases in which two pensions had been
granted the same person. These new records.
consist of 176 volumes, of 250 pages each, and
have claims for pensions on account of Service
in 2,268 regiments, 194 battalions, 706 independ-
ent companies, 208 batteries, and 46 staff Corps.
Besides this, the old three-fold invalid, widows.
and bounty lands divisions were abolished, and
everything was arranged by states. The com-
missioners have therefore evolved a method by
which the government may be better protected
from fraud, and this they submit every year to:
UNITED STATES PENSION LAWS, ETC.
1031
NUMBER OF PENSION CLAIMS FILED AND ALLOWED EACH
AT THE CLOSE OF EACH
YEAR SINCE JULY, 1861, AND THE NUMBER of PENSIONERs
YEAR SINCE JULY 1, 1860.


Army. Navy. Army & Navy. War of 1812. - -
- - Total, Total NO. Of Pensioners on
FISCAL Applications Applications Claims Applications Claims No. of No. Of € tº, Oll.
YEAR. filed. filed. , allowed. filed. allowed. àº;S #.
- |a,II.O.We
X" º - id. |Inva- Wid- |Inva- Wid- |Survi- ||Wid- Ulrvi- ||Wid- filed. |* e -
inyi, W. lids. Ows. lids. Ows. vors. “ws S VOI’S. ºws. - Invalids! Widows. Total
1861----- - * = * = N = s. s = * * * * * * * * * | * * * * * * | * * * * * * : * * * = ** * | * * * * * * * | * * * * * * * : * = * * * * * | * * * * * * * | * * * * * *- : * * * * * * 4,337 4,299 8,636
1862- ---. 1,362 | 1,000 60 65 413 49|-------|-------|-------|------- 2,48 462 4,341 3,818 8,159
1863----- 26,380 22,377 290 28 4,121 3,768 |-------|-------|-------|------- 49,332 || 7,884 7,821 6,970 14,791
1864----- 20,263 32,627 385 324 |17,041 |22,446 |-------|-------|-------|------- 53,599 || 39,487 || 23,479 27,656 || 51,135
1865-...--- 27,299 || 44,464 455 466 |15,212 24,959 -------|-------|-------|------- 72,684 40,171 || 35,880 50,106 || 85,986
1866----- 35,799 || 28,732 350 375 |22,883 |27,294 |-------|-------|-------|------- 65,256 || 50,177 55,652 71,070 | 126,722
1867- - - - - 15,905 20,265 250 333 |16,589 |19,893 |-------|-------|-------|------- 36,753 36,482 69,565 | 83,618 || 153,183
1868----- 7,292 13,099 170 207 || 9,460 |19,461 ||-------|-------|-------|------- 20,768 28,921 75,957 | 93,686 169,643
1869----- 11,035 | 14,496 290 345 7,292 |15,904 ||-------|-------|-------|------- 26,066 23,196 || 82,859 || 105,104 || 187,963
1870----- 12,991 11,400 260 200 5,721 | 12,500 -------|-------|--|-- ---|------- 24,851 | 18,221 87,521 111,165 198,683
1871----- ,837 || 8,985 190 142 7,934 8,399 || 20,741 5,074 198 31 43,969 16,562 | 93,394 | 114,101 | 207,495
1872----- },857 6,755 240 178 6,468 || 7,244 ,54 3,815 17,504 || 3,117 | 26,391 || 34,333; 113,954 || 118,275 232,229
1873----- 8,728 6,427 248 120 6,551 4,073 1,481 | 1,299 || 3,186 2,242 | 18.303 | 16,052 119,500 118,911 || 238,411
1874----- 9,302 || 5,603 228 151 5,937 3,152 737 713 | " 563 810 | 16,734 10,462 121,628 114,613 236,241
1875----- 11,996 || 5,294 310 178 5,760 4,736 425 571 240 416 | 18,704 || 11,152 | 122,989 111,832 2,4,821
1876-----| 17,030 5,264 344 130 5,360 || 4,376 319 43 7. 168 || 23,523 9,977 | 124,239 107,898 || 232,137
1877----- 16,532 5,269 271 97 || 7,282 3,861 198 || 348 57 126 22,715 11,326 128,723 || 103,381 232,104
1878----- 18,812 || 6,661 300 131 || 7,414 || 3,550 2,786 15,897 817 181 44,587 | 11,962 || 131,649 || 92,349 |223,998
1879- - - - - 36,835 | 9,767 599 215 7,242 3,379 811 || 8,891 2,548 18,177 57,118 31,346 | 138,615 104,140 242,755
1880----- 110,673 || 25,602 | 1.361 559 10,176 || 4,455 295 2,976 2 4,630 ||141,466 | 19,545 145,410 || 105,392 || 250,802
1881----- 18,455 10,527 515 225 |21,394 3,920 109 | 1,285 115 || 1,965 31,116 27,394 | 164,110 || 104,720 |268,830
1882- - - - - 29,004 || 10,349 472 211 |22,946 3,999 85 818 26 693 40,939 || 27,664 182,633 || 103,064 285,697
1883. ---. 35.039 || 11,878 777 251 |32,014 || 5,303 61 770 23 822 || 48,776 38,162 206,04 97,616 || 303,658
Total.--|488,356 306,941 8,365 5,088 |245,210 *: 1. 34,594 || 42,893 25,634 || 33,378 |886,137 |510,938 |--------|--------|-...--.


Note. — In the “Total mumber of pensioners on the roll” the survivors are included under the head of “Invalids.”
congress, which, with equal regularity, pigeon-
holes it. This is to have a number of pension
commissions all over the country, consisting each
of one surgeon and one pension clerk, appointed
from Washington, whose duty it shall be in each
case to go to any place in their district from which
a claim has been forwarded, and there to summon
the claimant and his witnesses, and such other wit-
nesses as they themselves may wish or as may
volunteer their testimony, and to examine such
evidence thus furnished, and report thereon to
Washington. The advantages of this system are,
that: 1. “The testimony and proceedings will be
public and reliable, facilitating prompt and liberal
decisions, and the treasury will be protected from
fraud.” The claimants’ expenses will be rather
diminished. 2. “The medical examination will
be made by an unprejudiced government surgeon.
No one will be made a victim of the ignorance,
prejudice or carelessness of a neighborhood sur-
geon.” 3. There need be no more special agents'
investigations. “The publicity of the proceed-
ings will operate to restrain fraudulent claims,
and give the government a guarantee against their
success.” The neighbors of any claimant are
likely to come forward to expose any fraud in
such a matter. Now, the honest claimants who
are not able to fill a want in their evidence get in-
jured, while the dishonest ones who fill such a
gap by fraud succeed. There will therefore be
less perjury, forgery and false personation under
such a scheme. The old, and present, scheme
“provides for the settlement of claims on ea parte
testimony exclusively, given by witnesses who are
entirely unknown to the office, and whose affi-
davits are almost universally prepared by claim
agents, who can receive no compensation for their
services unless the claim is allowed.” The exam-
ining surgeon is usually the neighborhood practi-
tioner, whose professional interest it is to please
the claimant at the expense of the government.
(Commissioner's Report, 1877.) — The following
table shows the annual expenditure of the govern-
ment of the United States on account of pensions,
from March 4, 1789, to June 30, 1883 (by calendar
years to 1843, and by fiscal years, ended June 30,
from that time):
1791------------ $ 175,813.88 1827------------ $ 976,138.86
1793------------ 109,243.15 1828------------ 850,573.57
1793------------ 80,087.81 | 1829------------ 949,594.47
1794------------ 81,399.24 1830------------ 1,363,297.31
1795------------ 68,673.22 | 1831-...-------...-- 1,170,665. 14
1796------------ 100,843.71 || 1832------------ 1,184,422.40.
1797------------ 92,256.97 | 1833.------------ 4,589,152.40.
1798------------ 104,845.33 1834------------ 3,364,285.30
1799------------ 5,444.03 | 1835------------ 1,954,711.32
1800---, -------- 64,130.73 1836------------ 2,882,797.96
1801------------ 73,533.37 | 1837------------ 2,672,162.45
1802------------ 85,440.39 || 1838------------ 2,156,057.29
1808------------ 62,902.10 | 1839------------ 3,142,750.51
1804------------ 80,092.80 | 1840------------ 2,603,562.17
1805------------ 81,854.59 || 1841------------ 2,388,434.51
1806------------ 81,875.53 1842------------ 1,378.931.33
1807------------ 70,500.00 1843------------ 839,041.12
1808------------ 82,576.04 1844------------ 2,032,008.99
809------------ 87,833.54 | 1845------------ 2,400,788.11
1810------------ 83,744. 16 | 1846------------ 1,811,097.56
1811------------ 75,043.88 || 1847------------ 1,744,883.63
181?------------ 91,402.10 1848------------ 1,227,496.48
1818------------ 86,989.91 1849------------ ,328,867.
1814------------ 90,164.36 | 1850------------ 1,866,886.02
1815------------ 69,656.06 | 1851------------ 2,293,377.22
1816------------ 188,804.15 1852------------ 2,401,858.78
1817------------ 297,374.43 1853------------ 1,756,306.20
1818------------ 890,719.90 1854------------ 1,232,665.00
1819------------ 2,415,939.85 | 1855------------ 1,477,612.33
1820------------ 3,208,376.31 | 1856------------ 1,296,229.65
1891------------ 242,817.25 | 1857------------ 1,310,380.58
1882------------ 1,948,199.40 | 1858------------ 1,219,768.30
1823------------ 1,780,588.52 | 1859-----------. 1,222,222.71
1824------------ 1,499,326.59 | 1860------------ 1,100,802.32
1885------------ 1,308,810.57 | 1861.------------ 1,034,599.73
1826------------ 1,556,593.83 | 1862.------------ 852,170.47
1032
UNITED STATES SURPLUS MONEY.
1863------------ 1,078,513.36 | 1869------------ 28,476,621.78 1875 ----------- 29,456,216.22 | 1881------------ 50,059,279.62
864------------ 4,985,473.90 | 1870------------ 28,340,262.17 | 1876------------ 28,257,395.69 1882 ----- -s ºr e = * = * 61,345,193.95
1865------------ 16,347,621.34 1871------------ 34,443,894.88 1877------------ 27,963.752.27 | 1883------------ 66,012,573.64
1866------------ 15,605,549.88 1872------------ 28,533,402.76 | 1878------------ 27,137,019.08 Total, including nearly
1867------------ 20,936,551.71 | 1873------------ 29,359,426.86 1879------------ 35,121,482.39 $10,000 in warrants outstand-
1868------------ 23,782,386,78 1874------...----- 29,038,414.66 | 1880------------ 56,777,174.44 ing in 1866----$724,658,382.78
LIST OF WARS OF THE UNITED STATES.
WARS Commenced. Ended by Treaty, etc. Nº.
Revolutionary------------------------------------ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - April 11, 1775 April 11, 1783 #289,715
French ---------------------------------------------------------- July 9, 1798 Sept. 30, 1800 ------------
Tripoli --------------------------------------------- ------------- June 10, 1801 June 4, 1805 |------------.
Indians (Gen. St. Clair) ------------------------------ ------------ 1790 Aug. 5, 1795 2,843
Indians (Gen. Harrison).------------------------------------------ Sept. 11, 1811 Nov. 11, 1811 650
England--------------------------------------------------------- June 18, 1812 Feb. 17, 1815 +527,654
Seminoles --------------------------- ---------------------------- Nov. 20, 1817 Oct. 21, 1818 5,911
Black Hawk----------------------------------------------------- April 21, 1831 Sept. 21, 1832 5,031
Cherokees -------------------------------. ----------------------- 1836 . 1837 3,936
Southwestern Indians-------------------------------------------- 1836 1836 2,803
Florida Indians-------------------------------------------------- Dec. 23, 1835 Aug. 14, 1843 41,122
Creek Indians --------------------------------------------------- May 5, 1836 Sept. 30, 1837 13,418
Canada, New York frontier disturbances-------------------------. 1838 1839 1,128
England, Aroostook boundary question-------------------------- 1838 1839 two regt's.
exico ----------------------- '- - - * * * * * * * * * * * * * * = * * * * * * * * * = • * * = − = - April 24, 1846 July 4, 1848 tl()0,460
War of rebellion------------------------------------------------- April 12, 1861 April 9, 1865 2,780,176

* 57,623 pensioned. The last (Sam’l Cook, of Clarendon, N.Y.) died May 20, 1866.
t 25,490 pensioned up to 1880. f 11,308 pensioned.
— AUTHORITIES. Army and Navy Pension. Laws
to 1861, Robert Mayo, M. D., 4th ed. ; Mayo &
Moulton’s Treatise on the Pension, Laws, Wash-
ington, 1861; A Manual of the Pension Laws of
the U. S., Henry C. Harmon, Washington, 1867;
A Manual of Pensions, Bounty and Pay, George
W. Raff, Cincinnati, 1864; The War Claſſmants’
Guide, George W. Raff, Cincinnati, 1866; Practice
wnder the Pension, Bounty and Prize Laws of the
U. S., Robert Sewell, New York, 1864; A Digest
of the Laws of the U. S. governing the granting of
Army and Navy Pensions, etc., compiled by or-
der of the Commissioner of Pensions, Calvin B.
Walker, deputy commissioner, Washington, 1881;
Civil Service in Great Britain, Dorman B. Eaton,
New York, 1880; The Annual Reports of the Com-
missioner of Pensions and the Secretary of the In-
terior; The Congressional Record; Dumont on Pen-
Słons, Bentham's translation.
DAVID A. WELLs, alld
FITSTACE CONWAY.
UNITED STATES SURPLUS MONEY, Dis-
tribution of, among the States. The secretary
of the treasury (Ingham), in his report to congress,
in December, 1829, estimated that the revenues
of the government for that year would amount,
including the balance on hand on Jan. 1, to
$30,574,666; and the expenditures to $26,164,595,
of which $9,841,011 was on account of principal
and $2,563,994 on account of interest of the pub-
lic debt. He also estimated that the public reve-
nue for the next five years would be such as to
leave free for application to the payment of the
public debt about twelve millions yearly. The
amount of debt becoming due or payable during
the next five years was $48,522,869. The surplus,
after paying this indebtedness, would be twelve
millions. The secretary did not favor a sudden
change in the tariff, but recommended such grad-
ual changes as would reduce the revenues to cor-
states an amendment authorizing it.
respond with the existing expenditure. President
Jackson, in his message to congress in 1829, said:
“After the extinction of the public debt, it is not
probable that any adjustment of the tariff, upon
principles satisfactory to the people of the Union,
will, until a remote period, if ever, leave the gov-
ernment without a considerable surplus in the
treasury beyond what may be required for its cur-
rent service. As, then, the period approaches
when the application of the revenue to the pay-
ment of debt will cease, the disposition of the sur-
plus will present a subject for the serious delibera-
tion of congress, and it may be fortunate for the
country that it is yet to be decided. Considered
in connection with the difficulties which have
heretofore attended appropriations for purposes of
internal improvement, and with those which this
experience tells us will certainly arise whenever
power over such subjects may be exercised by the
general government, it is hoped that it may lead
to the adoption of some plan which will reconcile
the diversified interests of the states, and strength-
en the bonds which unite them. Every member
of the Union, in peace and in war, will be bene-
fited by the improvement of inland navigation and
the construction of highways in the several states.
Let us, then, endeavor to attain this benefit in a
mode which will be satisfactory to all. That hith-
erto adopted has, by many of our fellow-citizens,
been deprecated as an infraction of the constitu-
tion, while by others it has been viewed as inex-
pedient. All feel that it has been employed at the
expense of harmony in the legislative councils.
To avoid these evils, it appears to me that the most
safe, just and federal disposition which could be
made of the surplus revenue, would be its appor-
tionment among the several states according to
their ratio of representation : and should this
measure not be found warranted by the constitu-
tion, that it would be expedient to propose to the
I regard an
UNITED STATES SURPLUS MONEY.
1033
appeal to the source of power, in cases of real
doubt, and where its exercise is deemed indispen-
sable to the general welfare, as among the most
sacred of all our obligations.” It thus appears
that President Jackson regarded as unconstitu-
tional the appropriation of money for internal im-
provements by congress, and, in view of the an-
ticipated surplus, suggested that its distribution
among the states would enable them to make such
improvements, without the assistance of congress.
He intimated that such a distribution would be
constitutional, but if there was any doubt on this
point, an amendment would remove the difficulty.
— During the session of congress of 1829–30, the
duties on tea, coffee, cocoa, salt, and also on ton-
nage, were reduced, but the reductions were not
sufficient to exhaust the surplus after the debt then
maturing should be paid. In his message for De-
cember, 1830, President Jackson referred to this
subject as follows: “In my first message I stated
it to be my opinion that it is not probable that any
adjustment of the tariff, upon principles Satisfac-
tory to the people of the Union, will, until a re-
mote period, if ever, leave the government with-
out a considerable surplus in the treasury beyond
what may be required for its current services. I
have had no cause to change this opinion, but
much to confirm it.”— The secretary of the treas-
ury, in his report for 1832, says: “After Jan. 1,
1833, no part of the public debt, except the re-
maining fragments of the unfunded debt, of which
only small portions are occasionally presented, will
be redeemable before the following year; and,
though there will be in the treasury during the
year ample means to discharge the whole debt,
they can be applied only to the purchase of stock
at the market prices.” The whole public debt was
virtually extinguished by Jan. 1, 1835, on which
date the balance of available funds in the treasury
was $5,586,232. It was estimated that for the year
1835 the receipts from all sources would be twenty
millions: but the actual receipts were $35,430,087,
receipts from the sale of the public lands during
that year having greatly increased. In 1834 these
receipts were only $4,857,600, but in 1835 they
were $14,757,600. The receipts from the sales of
public lands in 1834–5–6 were $44,492,381, and the
total receipts from this source, from 1796 to 1834,
had been but $44,595,000. The balance left in the
treasury at the beginning of the year 1833, was
$2,011,777; in 1834, $11,702,905; in 1835, $8,892,-
858, and on Jan. 1, 1836, $26,749,803. — In view
of this large balance, and its probable large in-
crease by Jan. 1, 1837, the act of June 23, 1836,
was passed, authorizing the distribution of the
surplus among the states. As has been seen, this
method of disposing of the surplus was favorably
suggested by President Jackson in his message
for 1829, and again indorsed by him in his mes-
sage for 1830. In 1836, however, the views of
the president appear to have changed. Secretary
Woodbury, in his report for 1835, disapproved of
the distribution of the surplus among the states,
intimating that it was unconstitutional. He said:
“ The people themselves, it is believed, can best
manage all their own money, which they and their
representatives think may not be wanted for pub-
lic purposes; and it would seem to be far prefer-
able to leave it originally in their possession, than
to withdraw it for the expensive operation of re-
turning it substantially to the place whence it
came, and that probably in a manner not conform-
able to the constitution, till after the delay of pro-
Curing an amendment to it; and even then not
expedient, because calculated injudiciously to
Strengthen the general government, and to render
the states more dependent on a great central power
for yearly and important resources. Indeed, a
reduction in the price of public lands, whose un-
usually large Sales the past year are the source of
most of the present surplus, would, if their sales
should not thereby be much increased, seem anoth-
er mode far more natural to obviate the present
difficulty. But, before adopting it, this and various
other considerations must be weighed, and it must
be fully considered whether all the revenue antic-
ipated from them at their present prices would
not be necessary, after the great reductions in the
tariff in 1842, and whether a resort to a higher
tariff would not then become indispensable, if the
average receipts from lands or customs should,
from any new legislation, become then much di-
minished below the estimates which have been
submitted on the present occasion.” This change
in the opinion of the administration from 1829 to
1836 was probably owing to the hostility of the
president to the bank of the United States, result-
ing in the veto of the bill for renewal of its char-
ter on July 10, 1832, and the removal of the United
States deposits from the bank by order of the sec-
retary of the treasury of Sept. 26, 1833. (See BANK-
ING IN THE UNITED STATES.) — In 1835 and 1836
the revenues of the government were deposited
with the state banks, the favorites of the adminis-
tration, and the distribution of the surplus at this
time among the states would have deprived these
banks of the deposits. In his message to congress
of 1836, after the passage of the act of June of that
year, regulating the public deposits, and providing
at the same time for the distribution of the surplus
in the treasury on Jan. 1, 1837, President Jack-
son said: “Without desiring to conceal that the
experience and observation of the last two years
have operated a partial change in my views upon
this interesting subject, it is nevertheless regretted
that the suggestions made by me in my annual
message of 1829 and 1830 have been greatly mis-
understood. At that time the great struggle was
begun against that latitudinarian construction of
the constitution which authorizes the unlimited
appropriation of the revenues of the Union to in-
ternal improvements within the states, tending to
invest in the hands, and place under the control,
of the general government, all the principal roads
and canals of the country, in violation of state
rights, and in derogation of state authority. At
the same time the condition of the manufacturing
interest was such as to create an apprehension that
1034
UNITED STATES SURPLUS MONEY.
the duties on imports could not, without exten-
sive mischief, be reduced in season to prevent the
accumulation of a considerable surplus after the
payment of the national debt. In view of the
dangers of such a surplus, and in preference to its
application to internal improvements, in deroga-
tion of the rights and powers of the states, the
suggestion of an amendment of the constitution to
authorize its distribution was made. It was an
alternative for what were deemed greater evils—
a temporary resort to relieve an overburdened
treasury, until the government could, without a
sudden and destructive revulsion in the business
of the country, gradually return to the just prin-
ciple of raising no more revenue from the people,
in taxes, than is necessary for its economical Sup-
port. Even that alternative was not spoken of
but in connection with an amendment of the con-
stitution.” — In the meantime Jackson, in his at-
tack on the bank of the United States, had been
bitterly opposed by Clay, Calhoun, Webster, and
a majority of both houses of congress, by whom
many of his acts were regarded as an exercise of
arbitrary power. In his first message in 1829 he
recommended that the bank of the United States
should not be rechartered. In January, 1832,
the bank’s memorial for recharter was presented
both in the house and Senate, and, after Some
debate, the bill for the recharter passed both
houses. This bill was vetoed, on July 10, by
the president, and the recharter of the bank
was made one of the issues of the campaign of
1832. Henry Clay was defeated, and Jackson re-
elected, and the latter claimed that the result was
an indorsement of his policy against the bank. —
During the summer of 1832, Jackson, as a measure
of hostility against the bank, conceived the proj-
ect of the removal of the United States deposits.
Benton, in his “Thirty Years’ View,” (vol. i., p.
377), says: “General Jackson was not the man to
tolerate these illegalities, corruptions and indigni-
ties. He therefore determined on ceasing to use
the institution any longer as a place of deposit for
the public moneys; and accordingly communicat-
ed his intention to the Cabinet, all of whom had
been requested to assist him in his deliberations
on the subject. The major part of them dissent-
ed from his design; whereupon he assembled them
on the 22d of September, and read to them a pa-
per containing his views on this subject. This pa-
per concludes as follows: “Under these convictions
he feels that a measure so important to the Amer-
ican people can not be commenced too soon; and
he therefore names the first day of October next
as a period proper for the change of the deposits,
or sooner, provided the necessary arrangements
with the state banks can be made.’”— Secretary
Duane refused to carry out the wishes of the
president without a previous reference to con-
gress. Roger B. Taney, then attorney general,
was made secretary of the treasury, and issued
the order for removal of the deposits on Sept. 26,
1833. The opponents of the administration, look-
ing at the surplus revenue, regarded the proposi-
\
tions made for distribution of the surplus among
the states favorably, as tending to deprive the
president of a portion of an immense patronage.
—The deposit of the public money in the pet
banks had been followed by great financial dis-
tress, continuing during the year 1834; and pre-
vious to and during that year propositions were
frequently made in the public press for distribu-
tion of the surplus revenue among the states as a
measure of relief. These propositions were first
in the form of a distribution of the revenue from
public land, then a distribution of the public
lands themselves, and finally the distribution of
both land and customs revenues. – During the
session of 1835, on motion of Mr. Calhoun, a
select committee, consisting of Calhoun, Webster,
Benton, Bibb, Southard and King, were appoint-
ed to inquire into the extent of executive patron-
age, the increase of public expenditures, and the
number of persons employed or fed by the execu-
tive government. The committee assumed that
there would be an annual surplus of nine millions
for the next eight years. It regarded the disposal
of this surplus as a problem to be solved with
great difficulty, but one which was important to
determine, lest the executive should greatly in-
crease his power by depositing the public funds
with the favorite banks. The committee accord-
ingly “reported a resolution so to amend the con-
stitution that the money remaining in the treasury
at the end of each year till Jan. 1, 1843, deduct-
ing therefrom the sum of $2,000,000 to meet cur-
rent and contingent expenses, shall annually be
distributed among the states and territories, in-
cluding the District of Columbia; and, for that
purpose, the sum to be distributed to be divided
into as many shares as there are Senators and rep-
resentatives in Congress, adding two for each ter-
ritory and two for the District of Columbia; and
that there shall be allotted to each state a number
of shares equal to its representation in both houses,
and to the territories, including the District of
Columbia, two shares each. Supposing the Sur-
plus to be distributed should average $9,000,000
annually, as estimated, it would give to each share
$30,405, which, multiplied by the number of sen-
ators and representatives from a state, will show
the amount to which any state will be entitled.”
This resolution was opposed by Benton, who repre-
sented the administration in the Senate. He argued
that the customs revenues could be largely reduced
by changes in their methods of collection; that
the revenues from the sale of land could be made
to disappear by selling these lands at nominal
prices to the people. If, after this, there should
still be a surplus, he advocated its use in the con-
struction of fortifications to protect the coasts
and frontiers of the country. The proposition of
the committee to amend the constitution to author-
ize the distribution was never brought to a vote.
In the spring of 1836, the following paragraph
appeared in the “Philadelphia National Gazette”:
“The great loss of the bank has been in the de-
preciation of the securities, and the only way to
|UNITED STATES SURPLUS MONEY.
1035
regain capital is to restore their value. A large
portion of them consists of state stocks, which
are so far below their intrinsic worth that the pres-
ent prices could not have been anticipated by any
reasonable man. No doubt can be entertained of
their ultimate payment. The states themselves,
unaided, can Satisfy every claim against them ;
they will do it speedily, if congress adopt the
measures contemplated for their relief. A divis-
ion of the public lands among the states, which
would enable them all to pay their debts, or a
pledge of the proceeds of sales for that purpose,
would be abundant security. Either of these acts
would inspire confidence, and enhance the value
of all kinds of property.”—A bill for the distri-
bution of the revenues was introduced in the
Senate, and supported both by Mr. Clay and
Mr. Webster. It was opposed by Mr. Benton,
who introduced an antagonistic bill devoting
the surplus revenues to public defenses. The
bill passed the senate by a vote of 25 to 20. Be-
ing sent to the house for concurrence, it became
evident that it could not pass that body, as a ma-
jority of its members regarded the project in its
form of a distribution as unconstitutional. The
friends of the measure in the senate determined
to change its form so as to remove the difficulty.
Instead of a distribution it was to be a deposit,
and the faith of the states was to be pledged to
the return of the money. — There was another
bill in the Senate for regulating the deposit of
public moneys with the state banks, and the prop-
osition in the form of a deposit with the states
became sections thirteen and fourteen of this bill,
which passed with only six dissenting votes. It
passed the house by a large majority, 155 to 38.
In the form of distribution it had no chance of
passing the house. “It was approved by the
president,” Benton says, “but with a repugnance
of feeling and a recoil of judgment which it re-
Quired great effort of friends to overcome.” Prob-
ably, if he had returned it with his veto, it would
have had two-thirds of each house in its favor. —
The following is a copy of the 13th and 14th sec-
tions of the act of June 23, 1836: “An act to
regulate the deposits of the public money. Sec-
tion 13. That the money which shall be in the
treasury of the United States, on the first day of
January, eighteen hundred and thirty-seven, re-
Serving the sum of five millions of dollars, shall
be deposited with such of the several states, in
proportion to their respective representation in the
Senate and house of representatives of the United
States, as shall, by law, authorize their treasurers,
Or other competent authorities, to receive the same
on the terms hereinafter specified; and the secre-
tary of the treasury shall deliver the same to such
treasurers, or other competent authorities, on re-
ceiving certificates of deposit therefor, signed by
such competent authorities, in such form as may
be prescribed by the secretary aforesaid; which |
certificates shall express the usual and legal obli- |
gations, and pledge the faith of the state for the
safe keeping and repayment thereof, and shall
pledge the faith of the states receiving the same,
to pay the said moneys, and every part thereof,
from time to time, whenever the same shall be re-
quired by the Secretary of the treasury, for the
purpose of defraying any wants of the public
treasury, beyond the amount of the five millions
aforesaid: Provided, that if any state declines to
receive its proportion of the surplus aforesaid, on
the terms before named, the same shall be deposit-
ed with the other states, agreeing to accept the
same on deposit in the proportion aforesaid: And
provided, further, that when said money, or any
part thereof, shall be wanted by the said secretary,
to meet appropriations by law, the same shall be
called for, in ratable proportions, within one year,
as nearly as conveniently may be, from the differ-
ent states with which the same is deposited, and
shall not be called for, in sums exceeding ten
thousand dollars, from any one state, in any one
month, without previous notice of thirty days
for every additional sum of twenty thousand dol-
lars which may at any time be required. Section
14. And be it further enacted, That the said de-
posits shall be made with the said states in the
following proportions and at the following times,
to wit: one-quarter part on the first day of Jan-
uary, eighteen hundred and thirty-seven, or as
Soon thereafter as may be; one-quarter part on
the first day of April, one-quarter part on the
first day of July, and one-quarter part on the
first day of October, all in the same year.” — In
his message for December, 1836, President Jack-
son objected to the method of distribution provid-
ed in the law, viz., according to representation,
and advocated a method founded on the popula-
tion of each state. — On Jan. 1, 1837, the surplus
in the treasury, after reserving the five millions
required by law, was $37,468,859.97, and the ap-
portionment among the several states is shown by
the following table:

Nº! Amount to be Amount
STATES. toral deposited dur: of each
votes.|1118 the year 1837. Installment.
Maine ------------------ 10 $1,274,451.02 || $318,612.75
New Hampshire.-------- 7 892,115.71 223,028.93.
Massachusetts---------- 14 1,784,231.43 446,057.86
Rhode Island ----------- 4 509,780.41 127,445.10
Vermont --------------- 7 892,115.71 223,028.93
Connecticut ------------ 8 1,019,560.81 254,890.20
New York-------------- 42 5,352,694.28 1,338,173.57
New Jersey ------------ 8 1,019,560.81 254,890.20
Pennsylvania ----------. 30 3,823,353.06 955,838.26.
Delaware--------------- 3 382,335.31 95,583.83
Maryland--------------- 10 1,274,451.02 318,612.75.
Virginia---------------- 23 2,931,237.34 732,809.03
North Carolina--------- 15 1,911,676.53 477,919.13
South Carolina--------- 11 1,401,896. 12 350,474.03
Georgia ---------------- 11 1,401,896 12 350,474.03
Alabama --------------- 7 892,115.71 223,028.93
Mississippi------------- 4 509,780.41 127,445. 10
Louisiana -------------- 5 637,225.51 159,306.38
Missouri---------------- 4 509,780.41 127,445.10
Kentucky -------------- 15 1,911,676.53 477,919.13
Tennessee -------------- 15 1,911,676.53 477,919.13
io-------------------- 21 2,676,347.14 669,086.78
Indiana----------------- 9 1,147,005.92 286,751.48
Illinois.----------------- 5 637,225.51 159,306.38
Arkansas--------------- 3 382,335.31 95,583.83
Michigan--------------- 3 382,335.31 95,583 83
Total.---------------|------ $37,468,859.97 |$9,367,214.98
1036
UNITED STATES SURPLUS MONEY.
The table on preceding page, with the exception
of the last column, is copied from the report of
Mr. Woodbury to congress, of January 3, 1837.
– It will be noticed, that, by the law authorizing
the deposit of the surplus, each state was required
to authorize its treasurer by law to receive the de-
posit and to give certificates of deposit therefor.
The necessary forms for carrying out this plan
were prepared by the secretary of the treasury,
and may be found in Ex. Doc. and Reports of
Committees, 1st Sess. 25th Congress, Doc. No. 30.
—All of the states named in the foregoing table of
apportionment passed laws authorizing the receipt
of the deposit, and some took the opportunity of
instructing their representatives to protest against,
or to endeavor to obtain changes in, Some of the
features of the law. The legislature of the state
of New Hampshire, by resolution, declared that
any distribution of surplus was unconstitutional.
They instructed their delegates to vote for a re-
duction of revenue and against any measure for
relinquishment, by the United States, of the sums
on deposit with the states. The legislature of the
state of Indiana requested its Senators and repre-
sentatives to use their exertions to procure the
passage of an act of congress for the relinquish-
ment on the part of the United States of all claims
of surplus revenue deposits under act of June
23, 1836. These resolutions show conclusively
that these states regarded the money received as a
deposit to be likely to be recalled, and not as a
gift. — The first three installments were paid to
the states as nearly as possible on the following
dates, viz.: one-fourth on Jan. 1, 1837, one-fourth
on April 1, and one-fourth on July 1, following.
The sums were paid by transfers from the deposit
banks. On Nov. 1, 1836, the secretary of the
treasury notified the banks of the requisition
which would be made upon them to meet the in-
stallments due, on Jan. 1, to the several states.
On Feb. 18, 1837, he gave similar notification in
reference to the next three installments. Forms of
the letters sent to each of the deposit banks are:
given, also, in Document 30, Sept. 26, 1837, be-
fore referred to. The installments payable on
Jan. 1, April 1, and July 1, were transferred to
the states on or near those dates. They amounted
in all to $28,101,645, and proportionate amounts
were deposited with and receipted for by each
state. — In May, 1837, the financial pressure be-
came so great that the banks generally suspended
specie payments. The fifth section of the act of
June 23, 1836, for regulating deposits of public
money, provided that no bank shall be selected
or continued as a place of deposit of public money
which shall not redeem its notes and bills on de-
mand in specie. On May 1, 1837, the number of
the deposit banks was 88, distributed by states as
follows: -
Maine------------------- 8 || New Jersey ------------- 3
New Hampshire.--------- 4 | Pennsylvania ----------- 3
Vermont---------------- 2 Delaware --------------- 2
Massachusetts----------- 6 Maryland --------------- 2
Connecticut.------------- 3 | District of Columbia ---- 1
Rhode Island------------ ? | Virginia ---------------- 3
New York -------------- 16 | North Carolina---------- 1
South Carolina---------- 2 | Kentucky--------------- 7
Georgia ----------------- 8 Ohio -------------------- 9
Alabama ---------------- 1 |Indiana ----------------- 1
Mississippi-------------- 2 Illinois.------------------ 1
Louisiana --------------- 2 | Michigan --------------- 2
Tennessee--------------- 2 Total --------------- TSS
The number of deposit banks on Nov. 1, 1836,
was 89. Their capital was $77,576,449; United
States deposits, $49,377,986; other deposits, only
$26,573,479.* — The difficulties arising from the
necessity of discontinuing as public depositories
those banks which refused to pay specie, made
it apparent that it would be very inconvenient,
if not impossible, to transfer the fourth install-
ment of the deposit with the states. Further
legislation was deemed necessary in this emergen-
cy, and an extra session of Congress was called
by President Van Buren. Congress met on Sept.
4. Among other reasons for the extra session,
the president in his message mentioned, that
“questions were also expected to arise in the re-
cess in respect to the October installment of those
deposits, requiring the interposition of congress.”
— Secretary Woodbury, in a report made on the
safe keeping of the public moneys, on Sept. 23,
in answer to a resolution of the house of repre-
sentatives, said: “This last mode [viz., deposit
with selected state banks] ceased by operation
of law during the last spring, except in relation
to five or six deposit banks which have contin-
ued to redeem their notes in specie. The direct
losses Sustainca under it appear to be large. But,
in the end, they are not considered likely to
amount to anything, though the disappointments,
delays and injuries under it, must, it is manifest,
in several cases be great. The indirect losses to
the public creditors and contractors have been
considerable, and are difficult to be computed.”
From this it will be seen that only six out of the
eighty-eight banks designated as public deposito-
ries on May 1, could be used as such in September.
— Benton says, in relation to these payments:
“The deposit with the states had only reached its
secondinstallment when the deposit banks, unable
to stand a continued quarterly strain of near ten
millions to the quarter, gave up the effort, and
closed their doors. The first installment had been
delivered on Jan. 1, in specie or its equivalent; the
second in April, also in valid money; the third one,
demandable on July 1, was accepted by the states
in depreciated paper; and they were very willing
to receive the fourth installment in the same way.”
—The secretary’s report shows that there would be
a deficiency in the revenues to meet expenditures
of over ten millions of dollars, which would render
it necessary either to recall some of the money
deposited with the states, or to postpone the pay-
ment of the fourth installment due on Oct. 1.
The secretary mentioned the inconvenience of pay-
ing the fourth installment, arising from the diffi-
culty of transferring from the west and Southwest,
where the money received from sales of public
lands had accumulated. The lack of revenue
* For statement of resources and liabilities of these banks
see Report of Comptroller of the Currency, 1876, p. 43.
|UNITED STATES SURPLUS MONEY.
1037
was his principal reason for urging the withhold-
ing or postponement of the fourth installment.
Believing the money would be immediately neces-
sary to the government, he thought it would be
less inconvenient to withhold payment than to pay
and immediately recall. — On Sept. 11, 1837, Mr.
Silas Wright, from the senate committee on
finance, reported a bill which provided “that the
transfer of the fourth installment of deposits di-
rected to be made with the states, under the
thirteenth section of the act of June 23, 1836, be
and the same is hereby postponed until further
provision by law.” The bill was brought up for
consideration on the 14th, when he said, that, ac.
cording to the report of the secretary of the treas-
ury of the 28th ult., there was then in the treas-
ury subject to draft, available and unavailable,
but $8,100,000. If the expenses of the month of
September were deducted, which were estimated
at two and a half millions, there would be in the
treasury, subject to draft on Oct. 1, less than six
millions without the transfer of a dollar to the
states toward the October installment. If the
October installment was to be transferred to the
states, all the means in the treasury on the day
when that installment was made transferable
would not be equal to two-thirds of the amount,
and money must be borrowed upon the credit of
the United States to supply the deficiency. The
largest portion of the funds in the treasury was
wholly unavailable; they were in the western and
southwestern banks, and experience had already
shown, that the drafts of the treasurer upon these
banks would not be received in payment by the
public creditors, neither would the states, other
than those in which the banks were located, take
these drafts, and give their obligations for a repay-
ment of the amount in money in pursuance of the
provisions of the deposit law. The transfer to the
states, therefore, could not be made, even to the
amount of the funds in the treasury subject to
draft, by reason of the character of the funds to
be drawn upon. The whole means in the treas-
ury on the first day of October next would be
from three and a half to four millions less-than
the transfer required. If congress should insist
upon this transfer, it must authorize a loan of
money upon the public credit in order that that
money when loaned, may be deposited with the
states for safe keeping. Mr. Webster thought
that it was a mere question of convenience, the
distributed money would go to all the people, and
any deficiency in the treasury must be supplied
by all the people. He thought the most conve-
nient way was to pay the installment, and provide
for the necessities of the treasury by other means.
Mr. Preston opposed the bill on the ground that
many states had already appropriated the money,
and had undertaken public works on the strength
of it, etc. Mr. Crittenden, of Kentucky, opposed
it on the same ground. By other senators the
deposit act was treated as a contract which the
United States was bound to carry out. Mr.
Buchanan proposed an amendment, the effect of
which, it was urged, was to change the character of
the deposit act and make it a distribution measure.
By the act it was the duty of the secretary of the
treasury to call for a return of the deposit when
needed by the federal treasury. The amendment
superseded this, and enacted that the deposits
should remain until called for by congress. Mr.
Niles pointed out the effect of this amendment.
He said the majority of those who voted for the
deposit act did so because it was a deposit and not
a distribution, and merely withdrew the public
moneys from the banks and deposited them with
the states. The amendment would change the de-
posit to a loan, Or, more properly, a grant, to the
states. Mr. Buchanan’s amendment, however,
passed by a vote of 32 to 12, and thus the recall
of the deposits already made was taken from the
hands of the secretary and placed with congress. –
In the house of representatives the disposition to
regard the deposit act as a contract was even
stronger than in the senate. Mr. Caleb Cushing
argued that it had all the features of a contract,
that it was a “contract of deposit.” It was a
contract in honor, and, as far as there could be a
contract between the United States and the states,
a contract in law. On the other hand, it was ar-
gued very forcibly that neither in honor nor in
law was there any reason for paying the fourth
installment when there was no surplus in the
treasury. Mr. Halsey, on the same side, said, “In
reference to the deposit act, if a contract, it was a
contract based alone upon the distribution of an
existing surplus, not wanted for the Ordinary or
extraordinary expenditures of the government.
The structure was reared upon that rock, and was
so understood at the time the statute was enacted.
The money to be distributed was out of a surplus
fund. Where was there a surplus fund? There
was none.” The opponents of the bill, apart from
the argument of contract, mainly founded their
arguments on the fact that the states had been in-
duced to undertake public works and other en-
gagements by the promise of the money, and the
inconvenience to which they would be put by
withholding the fourth installment. It was justly
observed by their opponents, that the states should
have regulated their action by the actual terms of
the law of congress, to which they agreed when
they accepted the deposits. The opposition to the
bill was persistent, the debate was long, and many
members were participants, among whom were
Adams of Massachusetts, Fillmore and Sibley of
New York, Bell of Tennessee, and Wise of Vir-
ginia. It finally passed the house by the close
vote of 119 to 117. A motion to reconsider was
made by Mr. Pickens, and carried. On reconsid-
eration, Mr. Pickens moved to amend so that, in-
stead of postponing the payment indefinitely until
further action by congress, it be postponed to Jan.
1, 1839, a day certain. This amendment was
agreed to and concurred in by the Senate, and the
bill finally passed in that form. — The effect of
the postponement of the payment to a fixed day
has been held by some to bind the United States
1038
UNIVERSITIES.
to such a payment ; and the making the with-
drawal of the first three installments received by
the states dependent on an act of congress, has, by
the same kind of construction, been regarded by
some as altering what was originally a deposit to
a gift. — As Jan. 1, 1839, approached, it became
apparent that there would be no funds in the
treasury available for the deposit of the postponed
installment. The secretary of the treasury, in his
report for December, 1838, stated that the availa-
ble balance on Jan. 1, 1839, would be $2,765,342
only, and at the date of the report the treasury
notes outstanding amounted to over $7,754,560.
He said, “It will be perceived by these statements
that no surplus balance will probably exist either
on Jan. 1, 1839, or during that year, to be depos-
ited with the several states for safe-keeping as a
fourth installment under the deposit act of June
23, 1836.” Since Jan. 1, 1839, there has never been
a time when the United States had in its treasury a
surplus over and above all its debts and estimated
expenditures. The amount deposited in the first
three installments with the states, has always been
carried as funds of the treasury unavailable; and,
under the terms of the acts relative to its deposit,
it could now be recalled at any time by an act of
congress. – General John A. Dix, secretary of the
treasury, in a letter to the chairman of the com-
mittee on ways and means, of Jan. 18, 1861, called
attention to the fact that “there are deposited
with twenty-six of the states, for safe-keeping,
over twenty-eight millions of dollars belonging to
the United States, for the payment of which the
promise of these states is pledged by written in-
struments on file in this department. The annual
statement of receipts and expenditures for the
year ending June 30, 1860, represents this amount
as part of ‘the balance in the treasury’ on that
day. * * I refer to this final resource as an
available one, should the public exigencies demand
it. It is not doubted that the greater portion of
the amount so deposited would be promptly and
cheerfully paid should an exigency arise involving
the public honor or safety. If, instead of calling
for these deposits, it should be deemed advisable
to pledge them for the repayment of any money
the government might find it necessary to borrow,
loans contracted on such a basis of security, super-
adding to the plighted faith of the United States
that of the individual states, could hardly fail to
be acceptable to capitalists.” (See UNITED STATES
NOTES.)—It is easy to see that there can be no
constitutional authority for the claim that this
money, already in the possession of the states, ir-
revocably belongs to them, since, according to the
constitution, it is still in the treasury of the United
States. The only method of taking money out of
the treasury is by an appropriation by congress,
upon which the secretary of the treasury is author-
ized to issue his warrant, and no such method
was ever adopted in relation to this money. The
whole object and intention of the act was to de-
posit the surplus, not distribute it, as it has been
Seen that a distribution act was known at the time
to be unconstitutional.
Upon the delivery of the
money the treasurer of each state gave to the
United States, not a receipt, but a certificate of de-
posit, subject to the future requisition of the gov-
ernment. The amount of the deposit has always
been held among the “unavailable funds of the
treasury,” and is annually so reported among
other like funds, as may be seen by reference to
page 383, Finance Report, 1882, and previous re-
ports. But whether a deposit or a distribution,
no constitutional method has been taken to author-
ize the payment of the money out of the treasury.
Moreover, it was a deposit of surplus and surplus
only, and when the surplus did not exist was sus-
pended by act of congress until a certain date; and,
when at that date there was still no surplus, the
deposit was again withheld by the executive, and,
on the same principle, has been withheld ever
since. Congress at any time can authorize the
withdrawal of the whole amount from the States,
and it doubtless could authorize the perpetual
withholding of the fourth installment in view of
the fact that at some time in the future, after the
national debt is paid, there may be a surplus sim-
ilar to that which existed Jan. 1, 1877. — Benton,
in his Thirty Years' View, thus refers to the use
made of the deposits by the different states: “All
sorts of plans were proposed for the employment
of the money; and combinations, more or less in-
terested or designing, generally carried the point
in the universal scramble. In some states a pro
rata division of the money per capita was made;
and the distributive share of each individual, being
but a few shillings, was received with contempt by
some, and rejected with scorn by others. In oth-
er states it was divided among the counties, and
gave rise to disjointed undertakings of no gen-
cral benefit. Others, again, were stimulated, by
the unexpected acquisition of a large sum, to en-
gage in large and premature works of internalim-
provement, embarrassing the state with debt, and
commencing works which could not be finished.”
— A claim has been made within a few months
(1884) upon the secretary of the treasury, under
authority of an act passed by the legislature of the
státe of Virginia for the deposit of the amount of
the fourth installment ($732,809.33) under the act
of June 23, 1836. A similar claim has also been
made by the treasurer of the state of Arkansas,
through Senator Garland of that state, to which
the secretary replied, on Oct. 8, 1883: “Ifind that
the tradition of this department for over a dozen
years has been to consider that act as obsolete, or
at least not imperatively effective during a season
of large public federal indebtedness.
the present follow in the path of my predecessors
in the office of the secretary of the treasury. It
is not improbable that I may ask the attention of
congress to the matter in the next annual report
from this department.” JOHN JAY KNOX.
UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE. (See SUFFRAGE.)
UNIVERSITIES. Purport of this Article. In
Europe the university has its definite character,
I can for
UNIVERSITIES.
1039
well understood by educated men, although it is
not easy to define its functions within the limits
of a single sentence. In the United States, on the
contrary, the word is used carelessly, as if it were
quite unimportant to remember its real signifi-
cance. Sometimes it is applied to a strong insti-
tution which combines the four traditional facul-
ties; and sometimes to schools of a very low grade,
or to those which promote but a single depart-
ment of knowledge. There are indications in
many parts of this country that the true idea is
hereafter to be more clearly recognized; generous
gifts for such purposes have been made by states
and individuals; and legislation has been sought
in order that the university may hereafter be de-
veloped on a proper basis. In this epoch of mu-
nificent foundations, it is of the utmost importance
that correct ideas should prevail among us; for,
otherwise, the United States will remain behind
the other countries of christendom in the highest
department of education. — Meaning of the Word.
Something may be gained by retrospect. The
word university, which, in these days and in all
the modern languages of Europe, has an educa-
tional meaning, was primarily a word of wider
use. In its Latin origin it signified the entirety,
the whole, the unit made up of individuals; thus
ºwniversitas incolarum oppid meant the commu-
nity—universitas canonicorum, the company of
canons. It was nearly equivalent to our word
society or corporation. Gradually it was restricted
to a society of teachers and scholars, and more
especially a society in which several faculties were
combined. Hence it came to signify an associa-
tion in which all branches of knowledge were
taught, especially the highest educational body in
a city or country—the supreme “high school.”
Sometimes universitas pointed to the governing
authority of the corporation, while in contrast
studium generale indicated its teaching function.
Societas magistrorum et discipulorum was early
employed as an almost synonymous phrase. In
modern times the buildings, libraries, museums
and other possessions of the corporation are often
spoken of as the university. But in all legitimate
uses of the word the idea has never been lost sight
of, that the university is an organization for ad-
vanced instruction in the chief departments of
knowledge; it is a high school in which the prin-
cipal arts and sciences are taught. An essential
element in its plan is comprehensiveness, or
breadth; it is a unit made up of many constitu-
ents; a confederation under a Sovereignty. — To be
distinguished from other Words. Hence it is ac-
knowledged by the best authorities, that a single
faculty, whether of law, medicine, theology or
philosophy, does not constitute a university. Such
a faculty, however far its instructions may be car-
ried, is too narrow to claim legitimately the title
which belongs to a different and broader organi-
zation. Universities must also be distinguished
from learned societies (like the Royal Society, the
French institute, the American academy, etc.), in
which no instruction is offered; and they should
never be confounded, as they often are in this
country, with colleges (corresponding to the Ger-
man gymnasia, or the French lycées), in which
youth are trained by well-known methods for the
higher work of more advanced students. The
university (like Oxford and Cambridge) may well
include one or more colleges in its organization, as
the greater includes the less, but the higher au-
thority of the greater should always be recog-
nized—as it is, for example, by Such titles as these :
Trinity college in the university of Dublin; the
university of McGill college in Montreal; the col-
lege of agriculture in the university of California;
and Adelbert college in the Western Reserve uni-
versity at Cleveland. —In every true university,
all departments of learning should find a congenial
home as members of one family governed by one
authority. Within their precincts, pupils trained
for freedom by preparatory discipline should be
encouraged to go forward in the pursuit of science,
as deep as they will, as far as they can. The dan-
gerous effects upon the mind of an individual, of
his devotion to a single subject, will be counter-
acted by living among men who attach equal, if
not superior, value to very different studies. With
occasional exceptions, it may be stated, as a rule,
that the self-taught man suffers from disadvantages
which the society of other scholars tends to re-
move. Association in studies of a superior char-
acter, under some recognized combining and co-
ordinating authority, is the most efficient method
which is known for the development of talents,
and also for the promotion of knowledge. Hence,
under all phases of Organization, the purpose of
the university has remained the same; namely, to
collect, weigh, perpetuate and disseminate sys-
tematic knowledge on important subjects, by the
employment of eminent scholars in the instruction
of properly qualified youth. — Origin of Uni-
versities. It is commonly said that universities
had their origin in the thirteenth century, but this
date can not be considered exact, nor can any
one foundation claim unquestioned priority. The
faculty of philosophy can be traced as far back
as the sixth century, when its courses included the
trivium (grammar, logic, rhetoric), and the quadrºv-
dum (music, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy), the
seven liberal arts, of which a liberally educated
man should be the master (artºum, magister). A
mnemonic hexameter* thus recalls the Sequence:
GRAMM. loquitur ; DIA vera docet ; RHET. verba colorat;
MUs. canit; AR. numerat ; GEO. ponderat; AST. colit astra.
In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, when the
dawn of better things began to follow the medi-
aval darkness, schools of law grew up (as at Bo-
logna), and of medicine (as at Salerno), and of
theology in the monastic foundations. The first
clear indications of the general study of philoso-
phy are seen in Paris, where at length the four
faculties began to co-operate in the government of
students, and where, in 1209, the word university
was employed in connection with the affair of
* Quoted by Hallam, Lit. Eur., i., 26.
1040
UNIVERSITIES.
Amaury de Chartres.” It is found in use, a few
years later, at Oxford, where an aggregation of col-
leges had been growing up for many years, perhaps
(though not certainly, nor even probably) since
the days of King Alfred. The university of Paris
early exerted an influence upon the organization
of other high schools. Its methods, its regula-
tions, its usages, were adopted in distant countries,
and may now be traced in the history of English,
Scotch, German and American foundations. –
Modern Notions of the University. From this re-
trospect, let us turn to some of the modern state-
ments of the proper scope of a university. Dis-
cussions on this subject have been rife in Ger-
many, France and Italy, but for our purposes
citations will only be drawn from British writers:
for it is on the basis of English educational ex-
perience that American high Schools have been
organized. —In an article which was published
in October, 1837, by Sir William Hamilton, the
Scotch philosopher, the following remark is found:
“We shall find no difficulty in proving that uni-
versity, in its proper and original meaning, de-
notes simply the whole members of a body (general-
ly incorporated) of persons teaching and learning
one or more departments of knowledge; and not an
institution privileged to reach a determinative cir-
cle of sciences, and to grant certificates of pro-
ficiency (degrees) in any fixed and certain depart-
ments of that circle (faculties).”— In his efforts
for the foundation of a Catholic university in Ire-
land, John Henry Newman, now cardinal, pub-
lished, in 1852, a series of “Discourses on the
Idea of a University,” which begin with this sen-
tence: “The view taken of a university in these
discourses is the following: That it is a place of
teaching universal knowledge. This implies that
its object is, on the one hand, intellectual, not
moral; and on the other, that it is the diffusion
and extension of knowledge rather than the ad-
vancement. If its object were scientific and phil-
osophical discovery, I do not see why a university
should have students; if religious training, I do
not see how it can be the seat of literature and sci-
ence.”— In 1868, during the discussions which re-
lated to the reorganization of Oxford, Goldwin
Smith, then about to withdraw from his connec-
tion with that university, wrote as follows: “Ex-
perience seems to show that the best way in which
the university can promote learning and advance
science is by allowing its teachers, and especially
the holders of its great professorial chairs, a lib.
eral margin for private study; by this, by keeping
its libraries and scientific apparatus in full effi-
ciency and opening them as liberally as possible,
by assisting, through its press, in the publication of
learned works which an ordinary publisher would
not undertake, and by making the best use of its
power of conferring literary and scientific honors.”
—While the proposal was under consideration to
* The disciples of this philosopher were condemned for
heresy by a council held in Paris in 1209.
t The fault of this definition is that it might include a
kindergarten, or a School of Choctaw.
establish the Victoria university in Manchester (in
1882), Professor A. W. Ward brought forward
some interesting evidence from the German re-
nascence, saying, among other things: “The re-
nascence age was in its way singularly alive to
the uses of associated study; and if I may speak
of different times, I may say in passing that there
is no side of modern university life better worth
not only preserving, but developing, than that of
combination in study. Between teachers and learn-
ers, the laboratory and the seminary; among learn-
ers, their own associations connected with the
studies of their academical life—are the real and
necessary supplements of the lecture room.” And
again: “A well-organized system of university
education should carefully lead from a common
basis of sound general training to the several
main branches of study, and in these again leave
room for the closer pursuit of special lines of re-
search.” — In a consideration of the “Future of
English Universities,” Professor James Bryce
(1888) urges that these foundations should aim to
attract and educate the whole nation [meaning
all classes of the nation]. Secondly, he argues
that “it is their business to offer to all comers the
best possible teaching on every subject—that is,
to attract the most learned, skillful and energetic
men, give them a platform to speak from, set.
them to teach, both by public oral instruction and
by showing pupils how to study, and give them.
every motive of honor and interest for doing their
best as teachers.” Thirdly, he speaks of what
can be done for the advancement of letters and
sciences; and finally, he calls attention to the im-
portance of “bearing a part in movements for
improving the education and raising the culture
of those who can not come to the university as
students.”—This modern conception of the uni-
versity is most completely worked out in the Ger-
man empire and in Austria, where, under the con-
trol of each state (Austria, Prussia, Baden, Sax-
ony, etc.), the system of public instruction is
crowned by one or more universities. Those Ger-
mans only can gain, access to the lecture rooms.
who bring the certificates of thorough preparatory
discipline, though foreigners are welcomed on
terms less rigid. The ultimate authority is the
government, which is bound to supply the requi-
site financial support, has the appointment of pro-
fessors, and prescribes the general regulations.
But within these limitations the professors are
free to give such instruction and by such methods.
as they think wise, and their wishes are usually,
if not always, considered by the sovereign author-
ity in the state. In fact, the professorships make
the university. As a rule, the universities have
four faculties—philosophy, law, medicine and
theology. Sometimes there are two divisions—
Catholic and Protestant—in the faculty last named;
and, in a very few instances, the faculty of philos-
ophy has been subdivided, but the general senti-
ment at the present time is adverse to such sec-
tions. – The universities of Switzerland, Sweden,
Norway, Holland, Russia, etc., are largely influ-
UNIVERSITIES.
1041
enced by the example of Germany and Austria.
The development of universities in England has
been quite different. Oxford and Cambridge
have perpetuated the idea of collegiate discipline
under university control; but, whatever may be
the nominal rule, actually the colleges control the
university. The Scotch universities have other
peculiarities. Ireland has still a different system.
France, again, has an organization of its own.
Until 1875 (when a law was passed making uni-
versity education free), there was but one univer-
sity in France, and that had control, under the
government of the state, of all the faculties. It
has lost its exclusive powers, but is still an ad-
ministrative, teaching and examining authority,
with jurisdiction over the public foundations, not
alone in Paris, but throughout the state. — The
Essentials of a University. Gathering up the ex-
perience of the past, and comparing it with what
is now in progress, it is safe to say that these
are the essentials of a university which shall be
worthy of its noble name. The first requisite is
a superior staff of teachers—men gifted with un-
usual powers, proficient in particular departments
of learning, trained to habits of exact inquiry,
and skilled in the art of presenting what they
know. It is the business of such men to inspire
as well as to inform their pupils; to show the
right method of study, as well as to bring forth
ascertained results. This function is best exer-
cised by meeting students face to face. A library
can never take the place of an assembly of living
teachers, though books are made efficient by the
teacher’s presence. Even in the advancement of
knowledge, experience has shown that the most
successful agents are superior teachers engaged in
the tuition of superior scholars. The university
must therefore, in the second place, bring together
a company of pupils qualified to profit by the
guidance of the professors. For both, in the
third place, books, collections, instruments and
buildings must be liberally provided. Fourthly,
examinations must be held, in order to ascertain
what progress has been made in study. The be-
stowal of academic degrees and prizes should be
made to stimulate intellectual exertion, and to
protect the public against pretentious ignorance.
In the fifth place, universities may be called upon
to pronounce opinions for the benefit of the pub-
lic upon important matters in dispute. Sixthly,
universities should promote the publication of
learned treatises which would not otherwise see
the light, either by the maintenance of a print-
ing press, or by giving their corporate sanction
to works of unusual importance. — University
Education ºn America. The condition of uni-
versity education in America can not be under-
stood without reference to our history. The
earliest settlers in New England and in Virginia
brought with them the idea of a liberal education
as it was provided at the beginning of the seven-
teenth century by the English universities. At
least ninety university men had immigrated to
New England prior to 1648, about three-fourths
185 VOL. III. — 66
of them being from Cambridge, and one-fourth
from Oxford.” At that period in England college
life completely overshadowed university life. Res-
idence within academic walls, tutorial discipline,
ecclesiastical obligations, were much more impor-
tant elements in the system than the bringing to-
gether of eminent professors and requiring attend-
ance upon their lectures. Harvard, Yale, and
William and Mary, the three foundations of the
Seventeenth century, were colleges in the definite
and restricted English sense, though they exer-
cised the right to confer degrees, even in faculties
where no instruction was provided. Their younger
sisters, in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania,
New Hampshire and other states, were planned
upon the New England model. Down to the
close of the revolutionary war the highest schools
of the colonies were colleges, and nothing but
colleges. The year of the peace, 1783, was marked
by the foundation of a medical faculty in connec-
tion with Harvard college, but it was more than
thirty years before the faculties of law and theol-
ogy were added. In New Haven, also, the med-
ical faculty was the first addition to the college
faculty, in 1813, and several years later came the
faculties of theology and law. Gradually the col-
lege faculties of Harvard and Yale have been
greatly expanded, and now correspond closely
with the German faculties of philosophy, although
engaged in the instruction both of graduate and
undergraduate students. It thus appears that the
two foundations which have become at the pres-
ent time the most completely organized universi-
ties in this country, include a group of faculties
grafted upon a college stock. The same mode of
development is in progress elsewhere, with more
or less success. For want of a better name, this
type may be called “the collegiate university.” As
the foundations were laid in the interests of the
church, the term ecclesiastical university might
be thought more appropriate. It is still the form
of development preferred by many of those who
have watched the steady and successful growth of
the older institutions. – But it is not the only type.
As early as 1812, the state of Maryland authorized
the college of medicine (incorporated four years
before) to annex to itself “the other three" col-
leges or faculties, viz., law, divinity, and arts and
sciences. Of these faculties two have continued
until now. Upon a similar plan, in 1826, the uni-
versity of Virginia was organized by Thomas
Jefferson, who disregarded the historic foundation
of William and Mary for an institution of much
broader scope. He brought out the continental
notion of a university as quite distinct from the
college. He did not favor the ecclesiastical or-
ganization which prevailed in the original Ameri-
can establishments; but induced the state, as a
purely civil government, to give name, funds and
authority to the university of Y. The suc-
cess of this institution had much influence, espe-
cially in the new states, where, however, the tradi-
tions of New England were still powerful. Thus
* So ascertained by Prof. F. B. Dexter.
1042
USURY.
the second type, “the state university,” has been
developed in Michigan, Wisconsin, California and
many other parts of the Union. The bestowal of
public lands for university education has greatly
helped this class of institutions, but for a long
time to come there is likely to be friendly rivalry
between the advocates of colleges under ecclesi-
astical or denominational control and the friends
of freer and more comprehensive universities under
legislative control. — A third type of university
organization is beginning to appear, quite distinct
from the historic collegiate or the modern state
universities. Individuals are giving large sums
of money to endow universities, organized under
special acts of incorporation more or less private
in their character. The gift of Rich, in Boston;
of Cornell, in Ithaca; of Packer, in Bethlehem; of
Johns Hopkins, in Baltimore; and recently of
Tulane, in New Orleans, are examples of this
tendency. The large funds thus bestowed, at a
period when the country is awakening to the
need of university work as distinguished from
collegiate, are very significant. This type may
be called “the privately endowed.”— Mention
should also be made of a fourth form of univer-
sity organization, of which the chief example is
the university of the state of New York, where-
in, with the authority of the state, a supervision
is exercised, of a very gentle but definite nature,
over the colleges and seminaries of the state.
No instruction is given by this university, and
the only degrees conferred are honorary. This
is “the supervisory type.” — The embodiment
of authority in a university is a problem of
much difficulty in this country, where the de-
centralization of civil government is so complete.
European precedents have but little value here.
The governing bodies of Harvard and Yale are
close corporations, having exclusive responsibil-
ity for their proceedings under their charters.
For the state universities, trustees or regents are
Sometimes elected by popular vote, and are some-
times appointed by the governor or the legisla-
ture; they have even been considered civil officers
(as in California), liable to be removed or super-
seded at the pleasure of the legislature. Grad-
ually the usage is coming into vogue of allowing
the graduates of an institution to have a voice in
the election of the trustees. In some places the
president is the head of the legal corporation, as
well as of all the faculties. He is the lineal de-
scendant of the ancient rector, or chancellor, and
has corresponding powers. In other institutions
he is a member of the corporation, but not its
head. Elsewhere he has a seat among the trustees,
but has no vote. In some places he is precluded
from listening to their deliberations, and is only
* It is proper to add, that two or three instances of fraudu-
lent universities have been detected and crushed. They were
simply Scandalous ventures of unscrupulous persons to en-
trap the unwary into purchasing diplomas—and would not
here be mentioned were it not that foreigners have sometimes
been misled by announcements which to every educated
American are obvious frauds. These sporadic appearances
are counterfeit, not entitled to any nomenclature.
an agent or executive officer. Consequently his
functions vary, from those of a king in council to
those of a servant in livery. Usually the profes-
Sorial responsibility is limited to the instruction
and government of the students, and does not ex.
tend to the selection of their colleagues, the man-
agement of funds, or the construction of build-
ings—functions retained by the trustees. In con-
Sequence of these uncertainties, the educational
growth of new foundations has generally been
less steady than it should be; a wavering policy
has been followed. It has been found difficult to
retain the services of good men, particularly in
the executive or administrative office; and proba-
bly for a long while to come, with now and then
an exception, our institutions, especially those of
the second type—state universities—will suffer
from this fact. Stability is of incalculable value
in a seat of learning; instability will sooner or
later result in the casting off or slipping away of
valuable teachers. In the long run the success of
universities will be promoted by entrusting the
chief powers to the professoriate, with supervision
and support from a body of educated trustees. –
University degrees have varied very much in their
significance and value. Originally, they were
steps in the academic life. The bachelor had at-
tained to one rank; the master or doctor, to a high-
er. The right to bear these titles was also the right
to enjoy certain corresponding privileges; and it
was carefully guarded by examinations, certifi-
cates and regulations, like other social positions.
This dignity of academic titles has diminished in
modern times, partly because they have been dis-
tributed almost haphazard, as bonbons are thrown
to a carnival crowd; partly because they have been
conferred by some universities in Germany in ab-
Sentia, and for pecuniary returns; partly because
of the extravagant distribution of honorary dis-
tinctions, especially in this country, where the
height of absurdity has been reached; and partly
because so many variations of the academic titles
have also been introduced in this country, that
their meaning is lost sight of. Fortunately, signs
of reaction against these bad usages are visible,
and possibly degrees may yet be restored to their
former significance. — From this brief review, it
is apparent that the American universities are
likely to be the outgrowth of our own free insti-
tutions, ecclesiastical and civil, and of the out-
pouring of private generosity. They are not likely
to be based upon English, German or French
models, but are to be benefited by the experience
of all existing foundations. They are to be truly
American, in the sense of being adapted to our
Schools, our history, our laws, our ways, our land.
It may be long before they equal in magnitude
and renown the historic foundations of the old
world; but if they succeed in enlisting and retain-
ing illustrious and powerful teachers, their success
will be assured. D. C. GILMAN.
USURY. When every one produced nearly
everything that he consumed, and commerce con-
UTAH.
1043
sisted in almost accidental exchange, loaning was
only a friendly service or charitable act. Morali-
ty or religion might then have justly branded the
greedy man who made a vile use of the distress of
his neighbor. But the relations of men to one
another increased, and became complicated ; in
One way or another capital came into existence.
Here, a conqueror took violent possession of
lands, houses and animals; there, a pirate came to
shore loaded with booty; elsewhere, wealth was
accumulated by labor and saving. The surplus
thus acquired (whether rightly or wrongly) was
transformed into capital by the employment
which was made of it. For, it is the use for which
an object is intended which constitutes it capital.
By the force of things the remunerated loan grad-
ually lost part of the reprobation which attached
to it, and interest was enabled to establish itself,
but not without a struggle. Unfortunately, capi-
tal long remained a monopoly, and the loaning of
it was necessarily dear, and all the dearer since
loans were made in the beginning less by industry
than by luxury and dissipation. The capitalist
drew from his possessions all that he could; this
he had a right to do, a right which, doubtless, he
sometimes abused. Hence governments, having
been long accustomed to look upon subjects as
minors, believed themselves obliged to fix the rate
of interest. Since then times have changed; labor
bas become more general; the sciences have point-
ed out the means of increasing its products by
rendering it more efficient; wealth has accumu-
Hated in the hands of many; there is competition
among lenders; and now luxury is scarcely ever,
and industry almost always, the borrower : yet in
certain countries prejudice has preserved a re-
strictive legislation. This is much to be regretted.
The hiring of capital differs in nothing from that
of any other object; and its price, too, depends on
the action of demand and supply, as do the prices
of all objects. In this world all abundant things
are cheap, and all rare things dear. Human laws
are powerless to modify this natural law, to which
we may apply the words, dura lea, Sed lea. — Re-
strictive laws on the subject of usury can only ag-
gravate the evil which they propose to prevent.
Interest is composed of at least two elements: 1,
the remuneralion of the service rendered by the
loan (or, which is the same thing, the compensa-
tion which the lender imposes on himself); and 2,
insurance against the risk of loss. Solvent and
honest borrowers may, by a combination of un-
favorable circumstances, find it impossible to re-
turn the principal. There are times in which these
circumstances become frequent; and if the law
prevents the capitalist from insuring himself
against loss by his proportionately raising the rate
of interest, one of two things will happen: either
the capitalist will abstain from giving credit, or
he will raise the rate of interest by the addition of
a third element, insurance against the risk of pun-
ishment. — A pretense is made to justify the lim-
itation of the rate of interest, by the obligation of
protecting the needy person who borrows. Many
objections to this immediately present themselves
to the mind. 1. If the borrower agrees to pay
the price, the reason is, that the service rendered
him does not seem to him too dear; a man may
borrow at 20 or 30 per cent. if he foresees that he
can gain 40 per cent. 2. Is the case that of a spend-
thrift? You can not prevent him from wasting his
fortune; if he does not do it in one way, he will in
another. 3. Why not put one’s self at the lender's
point of view also? If the return of the funds he
loans seems to him more or less doubtful, why
should he not have the right to cover his risk? 4.
What difference is there between goods and mon-
ey? and can not the former be sold legally at any
price one wishes? 5. Lastly, admitting that some
abuses are inevitable (and where is abuse want.
ing?), must we interfere with the use which is fre-
quent, may daily, to reach some abuses which are
relatively rare? Are these abuses sufficient to
warrant the putting of all those under the guard-
ianship of the law, who for one reason or an-
other desire to borrow? It is of general utility
that trade in money should be as free as trade in
merchandise ; fraud alone should be punished.
Moreover, to limit the rate of interest we should
know what its normal rate is. But who can fix
it? The legal rate is 5 per cent. in France, and
10 per cent. in Algeria. What is the legal rate in
Turkey'? What was the legal rate at Rome or
during the middle ages? — The arguments we
have just given have not escaped legislators, and
in many countries the crime of usury has been
blotted from the penal code, and gradually it will
be blotted from the penal codes of all countries.*
(Compare INTEREST.) MAURICE BLOCK.
UTAH, a territory of the United States. Its
area was a part of the first Mexican cession (see
ANNEXATIONS, IV.); and at the organization of
* Instead of the prohibition of interest which prevailed in
mediaeval times, most modern States have established fixed
rates of interest, the exceeding or evasion of which, by con-
tract or otherwise, is declared null and void, and is usually
punishable as usury. If the fixing of the rate is intended to
depress the rate of interest customary in the country, it uni-
formly fails of its object. If governmental control were
great enough, vigilant and rigid enough, which is scarcely
imaginable, to prevent all violations of the law, it is certain
that less capital would be loaned than had been, for the rea-
son that every owner of capital would be largely interested
in employing his capital in production of his own. More
capital, too, would go into foreign parts, and there would be
less saved by those not engaged in any enterprise of their
own. All this would happen to the undoubted prejudice of
the nation’s entire economy. —If, on the other hand, the
control of the government be not great enough, the law
would, in most cases, be evaded; especially as each party,
creditor as well as debtor, would find it to his advantage to
evade it. The latter, who otherwise would not be able to
borrow at all, is, as a rule, more in need of obtaining the
loan than the creditor is to invest his capital. How easily,
therefore, might he be induced to bind himself by oath or by
word of honor. He would, moreover, be compelled to pay
the creditor not only the natural interest and the ordinary in-
surance premium against loss, but also for the special risk
he runs when he violates the law threatening him with
a severe penalty. Hence the last result of usury laws is
either a material enhancement of the difficulty of obtaining
loans, or an enhancement of the rate of interest.— WILLIAM
ROSCHER.
1044
|UTAH.
the territory, by the act of Sept. 9, 1850 (see CoM-
PROMISEs, W.), it contained 220,196 square miles.
Since its organization it has been largely reduced
by portions which have been taken from it and
added to Colorado, Nebraska, Nevada and Wyo-
ming. It is now a compact, nearly square ter-
ritory of 84,476 Square miles. Its population, by
the census of 1880, was 143,963, so that it is the
most populous of the territories, if we except the
District of Columbia. Its capital is Salt Lake
City, and its governor (1880–84) is Eli H. Murray.
— The American territorial system (see TERRITO-
RIES) is essentially and altogether an adjunct to
the federal system. A more complete antipode
to the mercantile colonial system of a century ago
could hardly be stated or imagined. The Amer-
ican territory is practically under the absolute
control of congress; and yet it is never thought of
except as on the way to self-governing statehood.
It is useless, indeed, is worse than useless, unless
it is considered as an inchoate state. And yet
here is a territory, already containing the full vot-
ing power of a congressional district, whose pos-
sible statehood not only is unconsidered, but would
be considered only as a worse peril to American
institutions than its present absolute government.
The territory of Utah is the anomaly of the Amer-
ican system; and the question of its proper treat-
ment is one of the most serious and perplexing
problems of American politics. It has two distinct
aspects, that of Mormon polygamy, and that of
the Mormon hierarchy. In considering them, two
features of the American system must be constant-
ly kept in view. 1. The subjects of marriage and
divorce are exclusively state concerns. Congress
may forbid polygamy in a territory, but, as soon
as the territory becomes a state, its legislature ac-
quires entire control of marriage within its juris-
diction. If any of the present state legislatures
should abolish their penal laws against bigamy,
and either expressly or tacitly permit plural mar-
riages, there is no power outside of the voters of
the state which could intervene. 2. Once a state,
always a state. When a state once secures the
power of self-government, whether by surprise,
by secret purchase, or after deliberate considera-
tion, no power can legally revise the action of
congress in the admission: even congress is unable
to reconsider its action, and the state is equally
unable to forfeit its position, except by expressly
abandoning its statehood and expressly demand-
ing a return to a territorial condition. (See RE-
CoNSTRUCTION.) Mr. S. G. Fisher, as cited below,
some twenty years since stated and advocated
what he considered as the right of congress to
expel a state, or the right of a state to secede with
the express permission of the same congressional
authority which admitted it: but this view has
never been accepted. One of the fundamental
provisions of the Constitution is, that not even an
amendment shall be passed to deprive any state,
without its consent, of its equal suffrage in the
Senate. The population of a state may diminish
to almost nil, or its moral conditions may be shock-
ing to the rest of the country, but its statehood:
must continue as long as it demands it. — Mormon,
Polygamy. The growth and conditions of this in-
stitution have been elsewhere stated. (See MOR-
MONs.) The revised statutes of the United States
prohibit polygamy in the territories, and jurisdic-
tion of offenses against the prohibition is in the
federal courts of the territories, with a power of
writ of error, by act of June 23, 1874, from the
|United States supreme court to the supreme court
of the territory. This was found ineffectual from
the difficulty of obtaining evidence; and the strin-
gent “Edmunds Act ’’ was passed March 22,
1882. — The provisions of the Edmunds act are,
in general, as follows: 1. The offense of bigamy
(U. S. Rev. Stat., § 5352) is restated, and made.
punishable by fine and five years' imprisonment.
2. Cohabitation with more than one woman is .
made a misdemeanor, punishable by fine and six
months’ imprisonment. 3. Jurymen may be chal-
lenged for being guilty of bigamy or of unlawful
cohabitation, or for believing it right to commit
such offenses. 4. The president is authorized to
grant amnesty for past offenses. 5. The issue.
of Mormon marriages up to Jan. 1, 1883, is legit-
imated. 6. Bigamy, polygamy and unlawful co-
habitation are made bars to voting and to eligibil-
ity for election or appointment to any office under-
the territory or the United States. 7. All the reg-
istration and election offices of Utah are declared.
vacant. 8. Five commissioners are to be appointed.
by the president, with exclusive power to appoint
subordinates for the purpose of registering voters,
conducting elections, receiving or rejecting votes,
canvassing and returning votes, and issuing certifi-
cates. 9. Mere opinion as to the right of bigamy
or polygamy is not to be a bar to a seat in the leg-
islature. — The first election held under the pro-
visions of the Edmunds act resulted in an almost
exclusively Mormon legislature, devoted to the
maintenance of the corporate right of the church
of latter-day saints to hold and enjoy its wealth.
It is very evident, that, while polygamy is to be
retained as a distinguishing mark for a peculiar
people, it is to be practiced only by those who
have an exclusively ecclesiastical ambition, and
that the church will always take care to have mo-
nogamists ready to care for its political interests.
No one can suggest any further step in the direc-
tion of the Edmunds act, except to make opinion
a bar to a seat in the legislature. And that would
mean the temporary abolition of legal government
for Utah, and the relegation of government func-
tions to the moral control of the church, through,
its unofficial courts of arbitration. — As a final.
remedy, it has been proposed to adopt an amend-
ment to the constitution, prohibiting polygamy in.
the United States, and empowering Congress to
enforce the prohibition. An amendment to that
effect was introduced at the opening of Congress
in December, 1883, but has not yet been acted.
upon. It may be that such an amendment, with
appropriate legislation to back it, might solve the
problem and make it safe to admit Utah as a state.
|UTAH.
1045
But considerable caution should be felt in coming
to this conclusion after our experience with the
fourteenth and fifteenth amendments. They were
supposed, at the time of their passage, to be so
carefully framed that they had transferred the
protection of the civil rights of the enfranchised
negro race to congress. But the Supreme court
has decided, in effect, that these civil rights were
primarily under the protection of the states; that
a diminution of the power of the states must be
express to be valid; that these amendments gave
to congress only a veto power over unconstitu-
tional state legislation ; and that individual of
fenses are still in the domain of the states. Why
may not the proposed anti-polygamy amendment
meet the same fate? Suppose that Utah is ad-
mitted after the amendment is passed; and that
her legislature as carefully refrains from passing
laws permissive of polygamy as from punishing
polygamy by individuals. May we not then find
that the sixteenth amendment is as much of a
practical delusion as its two predecessors? And
it will then be too late, it must be remembered, to
return Utah to a territorial condition. Surely the
hazard of such a chance is too great to be taken.
— The only alternative seems to be to limit the
sphere of the states by words that can not be mis-
taken or evaded, and to add to the powers of con-
gress that of exclusive legislation, by general laws
only, on the subjects of marriage and divorce
within the United States. Utah might then be
admitted with absolute safety, for no legal argu-
ment could emasculate such an amendment. Big-
amy and polygamy would then be federal crimes;
and no marriage would be valid, or its issue legit-
imate or capable of inheritance ab ºntestato, unless
the Imarriage had been contracted according to the
forms prescribed by a federal statute. Growth of
population, wealth and culture in Utah would
only increase the force of the influences, material
..and moral, which would aid the amendment to
enforce itself. This remedy, succeeded by the
immediate admission of Utah as a state, seems to
the writer the only remedy for polygamy in the
territories which holds out a fair promise of final
and permanent success. It is open to the objec-
tion that a two-thirds majority in both houses of
“congress, or simple majorities backed by the pres-
ident, might force free-love on the United States.
But, if that time should ever come, all would be
lost; and our posterity would be too busily en-
gaged in guarding fundamental interests to have
time to spare for Utah. The danger is on a par
with that of the suspension of the privilege of the
writ of habeas corpus; and is only one of a class
of dangers which a democratic republic must
meet and surmount or die. — The Mormom, Hier-
archy. Federal officials, who have honestly en-
deavored to execute federal laws in Utah, are al-
most unanimously of opinion that a greater danger
than polygamy is in the Mormon hierarchy, sup-
ported by the immense resources of rigidly ex-
acted tithes, bulwarked by the fanatical obedience
of the people, and willing, if it could see its way
clear, to turn secret into open rebellion. Gov-
ernor Murray, late in 1883, gave very forcible
expression to this view in a newspaper interview,
and urged strongly that the whole territory should
be placed under an absolute military despotism
until the hierarchy should be crushed out. One
who has not been upon the spot must speak with
diffidence upon such a subject. But, from all the
information open to reach, it seems probable that
this view is only the natural outcome of unsuc-
cessful contest, and that the fate of the Mormon
hierarchy is conditioned by that of Mormon po-
lygamy in the following fashion. — Polygamy
seems to be primarily purposed to make the Mor-
mons a “peculiar people,” to give them a sense of
homogeneity which the other elements of their
“faith ” will not supply, and thus to secure an
obedience founded on faith rather than on force.
Secondarily, it has divided the Mormon leaders
into polygamists, with church ambitions, and
monogamists, with political ambitions. To the
polygamists are given the present and future
honors of the church, and the pleasure and profit
of managing an enormous church revenue, with-
out responsibility of accounting, except to the
hierarchy. To the monogamists are assigned the
present political honors of the territory, and the
future political honors of the , possible state. It
is plain, from the results of the Edmunds act,
that the monogamists, though at present of a
humbler rank, are not only important, but abso-
lutely essential, to the polygamists. Without the
political auxiliaries, the hierarchy would be pow-
erless; with them, it can endure patiently, labor,
and wait with hope. To cut off the political aux-
iliaries would be to cut off hope. It seems to the
writer, then, that the mistake has been in aiming all
operations at the polygamists, while every blow
fell harmless on the monogamous shield before
them. The true policy would be to strike at the mo-
nogamists, to push them into a compulsory choice
between their allies and their own hopes of polit-
ical preferment. What blow would do so more
effectually than the passage of the marriage and
divorce amendment, followed by the admission of
Utah as a state? If a record of conviction for big-
amy, or for aiding a bigamous marriage, is to be a
bar to office-holding, to citizenship, and even to
voting, how long will political leaders, in the hot
conflicts of real state politics, hold to an organiza-
tion which can not even provide them with votes ?
Whichever side the church takes, it must bring
votes in its hands. Mormonism is a democracy
of revelation, in which a revelation is tested by
its general acceptance. A new monogamous rev-
elation would thus be the inevitable result of the
gift of statehood, if we could give it safely; and
such a revelation would only result in the disap-
pearance of the Mormons as a “peculiar people,”
and the downfall of the hierarchy. Separate the
political monogamists from the ecclesiastical po-
lygamists by the marriage and divorce amend-
ment; fling the apple of discord among them by
granting statehood and introducing state politics;
1046
UTILITY.
and it seems evident that the problem of the
hierarchy will be found to be only an outgrowth
of the problem of polygamy, and that they stand
or fall together. — It is not intended to make po-
lygamists and ecclesiastical leaders exactly coin-
cident classes. Some of the ecclesiastical leaders
are certainly monogamists, but they are excep-
tions. – Authorities will be found under MOR-
MONs. See 9 Stat. at Large, 453 (act of Sept. 9,
1850); Fisher's Trial of the Constitution, 173.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
UTILITY. This word has the same meaning
in politico-economic language as in the usual
vocabulary. What it designates, in things, per-
sons or acts, is the power they have of rendering
us some service, the service, for instance, of spar-
ing us certain privations, inconveniences or suffer-
ing, or of procuring for us satisfactions and enjoy-
ments. Economists, however, employ the word
in the plural, when, instead of considering utility
as an abstraction, made up of every distinct partic-
ularity, they look upon it as it exists in different
objects with differences of nature and destination.
— The first distinction to be made between utili-
ties is, that there are natural and artificial utilities.
Natural utilities are those which supply the ne-
cessities of our existence without our having to
do anything to obtain them. Such are the utili-
ties furnished us by the air which surrounds us,
by the heat and light which the rays of the sun
bring to us. These utilities are the work of
nature entirely. Nature makes them a gratuity
to us. Artificial utilities are those which we Ob-
tain only at the price of more or less painful
efforts. It is for us to learn to produce them, and
we never acquire their possession and use, except
for some consideration or on the performance of
certain services. – Political economy has scarcely
anything to do with natural utilities. It may say
that they are not all spread in the same measure
over all parts of the globe; that there are no two re-
gions in whiclí lieal, the ſorce of the wind, water or
arable land, is distributed in exactly like propor-
tions, and that such a fact exercises a necessary in-
fluence on the modes of the activity, the facility of
the development and the destiny of the popula-
tions of those regions; but here ends what po-
litical economy has to say, about them. We are
here in presence of a phenomenon whose essence
it is not given to man to change, for it emanates
from laws over which his will can not possibly
have any efficient action. Everything, on the
other hand, which relates to artificial utilities be-
longs to the domain of political economy, and
challenges its investigation. — To produce utili-
ties is all that it is in the power of men to do.
When nature placed matter at their disposal, it
did not wish that they might have the power to add
one single particle to it. All they can do is to
change the place of, to separate, to combine and
to transform the elements of matter in such a way
as to cause them to acquire properties which they
do not possess in their raw state. The labor of
men consists only in giving the things on which it:
is brought to bear qualities and forms which,
adapt them to use; more than this, human labor
can not do. Nature has reserved creative power to:
itself entirely; to men it has granted only the power
to utilize its gifts. – It is easy to conceive that
human labor can propose to itself no end but that
of producing utilities. All labor involves pain:
and fatigue, and no one would surrender the
sweets of rest if he had not in prospect the com-
pensation which is the reward of labor. But,
there is no work which can reap reward unless it
produces fruits endowed with some quality. Mis-
takes may, indeed, be made in this respect; it may
be, that, from ill-advised endeavors, the results:
which the men who made them, promised them-
selves may not come; but these are mere accidents.
In the normal state of things, there is no labor
which has not the production of pretty manifest
utilities for its object, utilities sufficiently desired
by others to make the advantage of disposing of
them compensate for the sacrifices necessary to
the obtainment of them. — In proportion as,
nations become enlightened and wealthy, they
strive to produce utilities more diverse and in
greater numbers. After those utilities which serve.
to satisfy the principal necessities of life, they
create others which answer only factitious wants,
and tastes, which grow more and more elegant.
and refined. It is the eternal task of nations to
seek for and endeavor to obtain all that can add,
to the well-being already acquired, to the satisfac-
tions already enjoyed; and the better they accom-
plish this task, the higher is the degree of pow-
er and prosperity which they attain. — Artificial
utilities, those which are the fruit of man’s own.
labor, have given rise to distinctions. At first
they were divided into material utilities and im-
material utilities. The former are those utilities.
which man communicates to matter, which he
fixes and incorporates in matter either by chang-
ing its place or form; the latter are those which,
do not assume a form either tangible or ponder-
able. These latter again have been divided into
two categories. To the first of these categories.
belong such utilities as are incorporated in persons,
and fit them to render services to themselves or to
others. Utilities attached to talent, to information.
or knowledge, are of this kind, as are also utilities
whose use is beneficent and profitable. To the
second category belong those utilities which ema-
nate from services and “acts that produce no
change in the productive capacity of persons or
in the condition of things. Of this latter kind
are the utilities which result from the labor of
judges, soldiers, public functionaries, physicians,
lawyers, musicians and actors. These utilities,
may answer to very real social wants; but they
have not, at least in appearance, directly repro-
ductive effects; neither are they susceptible of
accumulation or duration. — Utility is produced
under forms so diverse that it would be easy to
add to the number of these classifications and to:
establish new subdivisions among them. But it.
UTILITY.
104.7
is in view of the correlations and affinities which
exist between utility and wealth that the classifi-
cations we have made have been admitted; and
the ideas or notions to which they answer merit
serious attention. The term utility is a generic
one; and everything which, it matters not by
what way or in what manner, has the power of
satisfying our wants or relieving our sufferings, of
contenting our desires, or contributing to our
pleasure, possesses the quality characterized by
the term utility. The meaning of the word
wealth is a more restricted one. Although there
can be no wealth whose basis is not utility, utility
alone does not suffice to constitute wealth; it con-
stitutes wealth only by allying itself in things to
certain qualities of a particular order. Most as-
suredly natural utilities are indispensable to us;
but as every one uses these utilities at pleasure,
and gathers them without cost of any kind, and as
they are not susceptible of private appropriation,
it would be wrong to apply the term wealth to
them. What constitutes wealth is eachangeabili-
ty, it is the value things owe to the possibility of
procuring us, by our delivering them to others,
this quantity or that of other things. All econo-
mists, however, do not admit that exchangeable
utility, or utility having a price, is sufficient to
give things the name of wealth; they claim, that,
in order that that name should properly belong to
the things in which this utility is to be met with,
these things should, besides, be susceptible of ac-
cumulation and duration; in other words, that
they should exist under a material form. It is
easy to see, that, according to the definition given
to the word wealth, the number of utilities which
is admitted to constitute a part of it, must increase
or decrease, and that the classification adopted by
some writers should not be adopted by others.
Be this as it may, the question of immaterial
products and unproductive labor is the one that.
suggests itself & propos of utilities. Of artificial
utilities, there are some which are not convert-
ed into material wealth or into the means of pro-
ducing material wealth ; such utilities are con-
sidered by some writers as unproductive; and, in
the eyes of these writers, the labor to which the
utilities just referred to is due is in as much dis-
favor as sterile labor. Whatever the distinctions
that may be established among the different kinds
of utility, it is a mistake to suppose that there can
be any utilities which do not contribute more or
less actively to the production of all the others.
All the utilities which man succeeds in realizing
have the same destination, the improvement of his
lot; they all assist one another, combine with one
another, and mutually fecundate one another, in
such a way that those least material are as much
as the others essential to the formation and accu-
mulation of wealth, and serve as much to produce
it. — Take wealth in the form under which that
name can be least denied it, the form of utilities
fixed and incorporated in material objects: such
wealth can be produced only with the aid and
Concurrence of immaterial utilities. It is intel-
lectual conceptions that the workman realizes in
his action on matter; it is the knowledge he has
acquired that decides the success of his work; and
the more precise and extensive this knowledge is,
the more fruitful are his efforts, and the more do
these efforts increase the things they are intended
to produce. But in what does knowledge consist
if not in the acquisitions of the mind?. And is it
not certain that the nations which possess most
knowledge are those which obtain material wealth
in greatest abundance? Assuredly nothing is more
indispensable to the production of material wealth
than the formation and accumulation of the capi.
tal the employment of which that production ne-
cessitates. But it is to the action of utilities of
the moral order that the creation of capital is due.
It is love for one's family, temperance, economy,
and care for the future, which determine or per-
mit the making of savings. If these qualities
were wanting, no one would lay by, in order to
reap a remote advantage from them, resources
whose consumption would increase the well-being
of the present; and there can be no doubt that the
countries in which these qualities are found are
always those in which capital continually extends
its conquests and increases wealth most rapidly.—
Many economists admit rightly that the knowl-
edge, skill and constancy of artisans and workmen
are as much a part of the wealth of a country as
the tools, machines and instruments which they
use. Doubtless these kinds of utilities contrib-
ute powerfully to the formation and increase of
wealth; from the point of view of the production
of material wealth, there are, however, between
them and the utilities which become incorporated
in persons, differences only as to the modes in
which their action respectively becomes manifest.
And, in fact, that labor may produce wealth, it is
not sufficient that it be enlightened, active and in-
telligent; it is further necessary that those who
perform it be certain of reaping the fruits of their
endeavors. But it is to insure this very certainty
that the work of judges, magistrates, and even of
armies, is intended; and such is the utility which
results from the performance of such work. If
the laborer, the manufacturer and the merchant
display all the activity of which they are capable;
if they make savings in order to extend the field
of their operations; if they seek for and apply to
production better and better processes, it is only
because they have faith in the efficacy of the serv-
ices of all those who are charged with guarantee-
ing the security of person and property. The
utility produced by the prosecution, sentencing
and punishment of crimes and misdemeanors, does
not vanish, as is supposed, with the acts in which
it is embodied ; on the contrary, it continues to
subsist in the minds of all, intimidating those who
might be tempted to do wrong, and demonstrating
to others that neither violence nor spoliation can
attack them unpunished, and that they may de-
vote themselves to their work in Security. We
have seen the services rendered by the agents of
authority cease to keep their habitual course; and,
1048
UTILITY.
at that very instant, we witnessed, too, the produc-
tion of wealth affected by languor and discour-
agement; so true is it that in the kind of utility
which these services produce, is to be found the
most indispensable stimulant to the success and
energy of industrial labor. — We may boldly as-
sert, that nothing which is useful, nothing which
serves to enlighten minds, to quicken the moral
sense, to propagate healthy habits, or to guarantee
peace and security among a people, can be With-
out effect on the success of the efforts employed
in producing material wealth. Those immaterial
utilities even which seem the least productive ;
those even the obtaining of which, according to
eminent economists, instead of making nations
richer in material products, impoverish them to
the amount of the sum total of material products
consumed by the men employed in the service of
the public, contribute their share to the formation
of wealth ; so true is this, that the formation or
production of wealth would become impossible if
the immaterial utilities above referred to were
either entirely wanting or not to be found in the
proportion required by the wants which they serve
to satisfy. — We have still to examine one other
correlation of utility with wealth. It is certain
that utility is a necessary condition to wealth. A
product incapable of rendering any service what-
ever, unfit for any use, would find no one willing
to give anything whatever for it; it would, conse-
quently, be wanting in all exchangeable value,
that is, in the quality, tacking which, it could not
become wealth. This constant association of
wealth and utility could not fail to attract atten-
tion; and, therefore, many writers supposed that
there must exist between them relations such that
the onc might serve as a measure for the other.
Although this error is refuted in the article
WALUE, we can not pass it over in Silence here.
Although the utility inherent in things depends,
so far as the estimate made of it is concerned, on
circumstances momentarily variable, it is none the
less certain, looked at fromil the general point of
view, that it has its measure marked by the spe-
cies of wants to which it relates. Thus, that
utility exists in the highest degree in those things
which supply the prime necessities of life, neces-
sities which must be provided for under pain of
inevitable death. It exists, in an inferior degree
only, in the things which merely serve to defend
us against privations and sufferings which do not
jeopardize life, and in a degree still lower in those
things whose use has no effect but to procure us
pleasure or amusement. This gradation of utili-
ities, based on the very nature of the evils or perils
attached to the non-satisfaction of the wants which
they enable us to satisfy, is simple and easy to uh-
derstand. There is no one who does not recog-
nize and assert that utility is much greater in the
alimentary substances, without which we would
have to suffer the deadly pangs of hunger, than
in the products to which we owe enjoyments, the
privation of which would be attended by neither
pain nor harm. — But if utility finds its measure in
the greater or lesser absolute exigency of the wants
of our nature, that measure is far from being found
again in the value itself of the things we may use,
and far from contributing, according to their de-
gree of distinction, to make those things integral
parts, more or less considerable, of public or pri-
vate wealth. It is in vain that the bread which
nourishes us and the woolens that cover us are of
prime necessity to us: that does not prevent an
object which, at best, is good only to relieve for a
moment the ennui of the person who buys it, be-
ing paid for at a price infinitely higher. The rea-
son of this is, that there are men rich enough to
give full rein to tastes and desires which others are
entirely ignorant of or can not satisfy. Those to
whom it is easy to provide for the most essential
wants of life, think of procuring all the enjoy-
ments compatible with the size of their fortune.
It is not enough for them to be well fed, comfort-
ably lodged and warmly clothed; they offer in-
cense to pleasure, and seekit in everything. They
must have things which charm the eye, which
afford them delicate impressions and sensations,
whose possession flatters their vanity, which some-
times borrow all their attraction only from a fancy
or from the caprice of a moment; and the value
conferred on these objects by what those who de-
sire them are willing to give in exchange for them,
assures to them, among things considered wealth,
a much greater place than they would occupy if
nothing but the quantum of real utility they con.
tain were taken into consideration. — It is only
when the products indispensable to the satisfac-
tion of the wants of existence are lacking that the
utility which they contain makes its empire felt,
and becomes the dominating principle of their
value. When the things which can be dispensed
with without peril or injury cease to be supplied
in sufficient quantity, fewer of them are bought,
and the rise in the price of them has its limit in
the reduction of the number of those who ask to
acquire them. The same is not the case with
those whose use no one can give up without run-
ning the risk of death. In times of famine men
dispute the means of subsistence with one another.
The rich, to procure bread, sell everything which
ministers only to their pleasure. The poor despoil
themselves of their furniture, their clothing and
their shoes. People must then perish or assuage
their hunger: each sacrifices to the first of all
wants, that of self-preservation, everything which
is not of a nature to satisfy that want. Such cases
present themselves in besieged cities when their
stores are exhausted, and in deserts when, de-
voured by thirst, the merchants crossing them
give for a few drops of water the treasures carried
by their camels. But in the normal condition of
things, when all kinds of utility are to be found in
their customary proportion, their particular desti-
nation or quality has no influence on the value at
which they figure in exchanges or at which they
are estimated in the sum total of wealth. What
operates, then, across the variations in price due to
the fluctuations of supply and demand, is the
UTOPIA.
1049
: amount of the cost of production of each.--These
considerations suffice to show in what the correla-
tion which exists between utility and wealth con-
sists. If value attaches to things only on condi-
tion that they be gifted with the utility which
alone has the power to render them exchangeable,
the value in attaching to them by no means takes
for its measure the character of that utility. It is
the quantity of other things which each of them
permits us to obtain that determines its value; and
a precious stone, a pearl or a jewel which serves
only to adorn the lady who wears it, has, with
like weight and quantity, a thousand of times the
value of the wheat or fuel without which we
should fall victims of hunger or cold, but which
costs little to produce, abounds in the markets,
and sometimes has to wait for purchasers. — To
resume. Nature gratuitously gives up to men
certain utilities which all enjoy equally; it im-
poses on them the necessity of creating the others.
Their labor can produce only artificial utilities,
and never has any end but to produce such util-
ities. The utilities which human labor obtains
are of various kinds: some, becoming fixed and
incorporated in matter, communicate to it the
qualities which constitute wealth; the others are
not realized under a material form; they attach to
the persons of men, fitting them to render services
to themselves or to others, or they attach to acts
or services the performance of which has for effect
to insure to the individuals or nations to whom
they belong, Satisfactions, advantages or guaran-
tees, the absence of which would infallibly react
in an injurious manner on their interests and on
their well-being. It must be remarked, that, al-
though immaterial, these utilities contribute act-
ively to the formation as well as to the accumula-
tion of the products which constitute material
wealth; from which it follows, that, even consid-
ered solely in their relations to that wealth, the
labor by means of which it is obtained has a char-
acter of productiveness not less real than the labor
which acts more directly on matter itself.-Utility
is one of the constituent conditions of wealth;
it is inseparable from wealth, but can not furnish
a measure of wealth. The utility inherent in
things is greater in proportion as the wants to
which they are fitted to give satisfaction are more
urgent and intense; the wealth inherent in things,
On the contrary, is greater in proportion as the
cost of production of the latter is greater.
HIPPOLYTE PASSY.
UTOPIA (from the Greek, ov rázog, that
which exists in no place, nowhere). The word is
the invention of Thomas More; the title given by
him to one of his works which soon became cele-
brated; but the thing is much older than the name.
By utopia is meant a certain organization of soci-
ety and of the state, to which imagination and the
spirit of system contributes not most but every-
thing, without examining whether it is realizable
in a given place or time, and without investigating
whether or not it is compatible, even in a general
way, with the moral and physical conditions of
human nature. It follows from this, that the
utopia necessarily changes character according to
the system which produces it. And, in fact, there
are religious utopias and philosophical utopias;
idealistic and sensualistic, sensual and even mate-
rialistic utopias. Tastly, there are utopias which
have their origin in pantheism; and this is true of
the greater number of utopias. The pretension of
Gregory VII. to make christendom a republic en-
tirely subject, in things temporal as well as spirit-
ual, to the sovereign authority of the holy see; a
pretension afterward developed in a systematic
form by the great theologians of the thirteenth
and fourteenth centuries, is a religious utopia.
The republic of Plato is a philosophical, and,
moreover, an idealistic utopia. On the other
hand, we observe the inspiration of sensualism in
the doctrine of Fourier, the inspiration of mate-
rialism in the “Teviathan * of Hobbes, and in the
“Positivist Catechism * of Auguste Comte, and
that of pantheism in the reveries of Campanella
and Saint-Simon. The utopia is, therefore, differ-
ent from the ideal, although the ideal may some,
times be found in the utopia. The ideal which
applies to society, as well as to the individual,
raises us above what we are, to show us what we
should be, and, therefore, can be. The utopia
deceives us in regard to both, by placing before
our eyes a chimerical goal, which may at the same
time be a type of debasement and servitude; for it
is impossible to create a new form of Society, with-
out concerning ourselves with the government
adapted to it, and the best suited to preserve it.
We, therefore, can not admit the distinction made
by some publicists between the social utopia and
the political utopia. Every utopia is necessarily
both political and social. — The age of utopias does
not begin, as is generally supposed, with Plato;
it is much more remote. It would not be difficult,
for instance, to demonstrate that the republic of
the Hebrews, such as we may represent it to our-
selves in accordance with the institutions and the
laws of the Pentateuch (see MOSAISM), was in great
part a utopia which was never realized; that that
sacerdotal race, a people of priests, who acknowl-
edged no sovereign but God, never existed; that
the periodical restoration of inheritances to their
primitive boundaries and of slaves to liberty, afy
more than the perfect equality of fortunes, was
never put in practice. But we are quite willing
to accept as the extreme bound of antiquity the
history of Greek philosophy. Even in that history
Plato is not the first utopist. Aristotle (“Politics,”.
book ii., ch. v., vi.) introduces us to two utopists,
more ancient than Plato, one of whom, Phaleas of
Chalcedon, gave social order, as its principle, the
most perfect equality, and the other of whom, a
celebrated architect called Hippodamus of Miletus,
having introduced regularity and symmetry into
the construction of cities, desired to impose these
same qualities on the organization of the state.
Thus he demanded that the citizens, to the num-
ber of ten thousand, should be invariably divided
1050
|UTOPIA.
into three classes: artisans, laborers and warriors;
or, according to other testimony, into magistrates,
warriors and workmen ; and that a distinct por-
tion of the territory of the republic should be al-
lotted to each of these three classes. The two
probably belonged to the Pythagorean school,
which both commanded and practiced a commu-
nity of goods. But no one before Plato knew,
as well as he did, how to give a body to these
imaginary conceptions, and to make the most of
them by the graces of poetry and the power of
dialectics. We know that he has connected his
name with two entirely distinct utopias, one of
which is developed in the “Republic,” and the
other in the dialogue on the “Laws.” Both, ac-
cording to his own avowal, belong solely to the
world of ideas, but the second is nearer to reality
than the first. The first has for its object perfect
unity, the unity which consists in entirely melting
the existence of the individual into that of society,
and the real person of the individual into the ideal
person of the state; the second, in default of
unity, is satisfied with equality, which is also a
means, but an inferior means, to hold together,
under the empire of a common law, the different
parts of the body social. All the elements of
which the two Platonic constitutions are com-
posed are explained, and, to a certain extent, ex-
cused, in these two primary ideas. Thus, the
three classes of citizens, or rather the three castes
of the “Republic,” answer to the three faculties
of the human soul, the magistrates to the intellect,
the warriors to the will or the sentiments, and the
laborers to the appetite. And because the appetite
should be subordinate to the sentiments, and the
sentiments to the intellect, the same hierarchy
should exist in the classes which represent them.
The most important of these classes is, beyond
contradiction, the class of warriors; for the rôle
of the lowest class is reduced to obedience; and
the magistrate or philosopher, once he has per-
formed his task, once he has founded the city on
the Supreme laws of the intellect, has nothing
more to do. This explains why it is that the war-
riors should afford us the expression of the ideal
unity of which we have just spoken. Hence the
community of goods and women which Plato, by
restricting it to them, considers a sacrifice, and not
a privilege. — It is evident that in this organization
the human person and individual liberty count
for nothing. They are not quite so entirely anni-
hilated, but they are still oppressed under the
régime of equality presented to us in the “Laws.”
For instance, the division of the territory having
to remain invariable, it is necessary that the num-
ber of citizens fixed by Plato at 5,040 should be
invariable likewise. So much the worse for the
children born in excess of that fatal figure. They
will be forced to emigrate. Sterile families will
be obliged to complete their number by adoption.
The law will see to it that personal wealth shall not
disturb the equilibrium of fortunes. It will tram-
mel industry, commerce and the increase of capi-
tal in such a way that industry, commerce and
the increase of capital will become almost impos-
sible. A fortiori, the burden of the law is felt in
what concerns marriage, the education of children,
and wills. It prescribes, as it did in Sparta, meals.
in common, prohibits travel, except in certain
cases of necessity or of the public interest, sub-
jects to the inspection of the authorities the most
intimate relations of life, and lays down the most
inflexible rules for all the occupations it is so good
as to allow the citizens to engage in. — Pagan an-
tiquity affords no other examples of the utopian
spirit; for we can attach no value to a few lost.
fragments like those of Hecataeus of Abdera, of
Evenerus and Theopompus, which are evidently
only reminiscences of the ideas of Plato; and, as
to the “republic ’’ of Cicero, it is less a work of
the imagination and spirit of system than of pa-
triotism and the political passion; it contains only
a partial apology for the old institutions of the
Roman republic. — The middle ages bring us to.
the religious utopias, of which the boldest and
most brilliant is assuredly the utopia of Gregory
VII. Universal theocracy never existed except in
the ambition of that great pontiff. The condition
of the world at the period in which it was pro-
duced, and the general state of society, have al-
ways made it an unrealizable dream. But after
it had met with the resistance of facts, the idea of
Gregory VII. entered the domain of speculation.
It took possession of philosophy and theology
through the works of Thomas Aquinas, of Giles.
of Rome, and notably through the De regimine:
principum, and the treatise Dé ecclesiastica potestate.
Another utopia, hatched at the same epoch, be-
tween the end of the twelfth and the beginning:
of the thirteenth century, but which savors per-
haps as much of philosophy as of religion, is that
which bears the name of the abbé Joachim, and
which is described in the “Eternal Gospel”
(L’Evangil étermel). Joining the pantheistic prin-
ciples of Amaury de Bène and of David de Dinant
to some misconstrued texts of the Gospels, the
adherents of this doctrine expected the reign of the
Holy Ghost or of love to succeed the Son, as the
Son had succeeded the Father. During this last
period of our history, for which the two preceding
periods had only paved the way, all differences.
and inequalities were to disappear from the earth,
even the difference between vice and virtue; for
all the passions were to be sanctified; the flesh.
and the spirit reconciled with one another, or
rather, confounded together, were to cease their
struggle for pre-eminence; and the suppression
of war and a community of goods and of women
were to make all men one family. — With the
renaissance the purely philosophical. utopia re-
appeared; and it was the minister of a despot,.
the chancellor of Henry VIII., Thomas More,
who, in calling it back to life, gave it its real
name. Everything in Thomas More's book is not.
chimerical. It contains an extremely profound
and sensible criticism of the politics, the political
economy and legislation of his time. And even.
when he seems to abandon himself to the caprice.
|UTOPIA.
1051;
of his imagination, when with complaisance he
gives us an exposition of the laws and institutions
of the country of Utopia, there is a distinction to
be made between its political conception and its
Social organization. The former is simply a rep-
resentative government, with a leaning toward the
republic, having a senate, an assembly of the peo-
ple, a president appointed for life, and election to
all the degrees of power, spiritual as well as tem-
poral. The latter is summed up in communism,
with some of the elements which subsequently
served in the construction of the phalanstery sys-
tem. This is sufficient to convince us that the
communism of Thomas More does not flow from
the same philosophical system as that of Plato.
The latter remains as much an idealist, even in its
most deplorable applications, as the former in-
clines to sensualism. It is no longer with a view
to their moral perfection, but in the interest of
their common happiness, that men, according to
the English philosopher, should renounce prop-
erty. It is sufficient that this end be proposed to
them for labor, grown both more pleasant and
more fruitful, to satisfy all the wants of society.
The day in this system was to consist of only six
hours: three hours before dinner and three hours
before supper. Fatigue was to be avoided by
diversity of occupation; every citizen, exercising
several professions at the same time, might alter-
natively pass from one to the other. He would,
therefore, have leisure enough to give himself up
to all the enjoyments of study and conversation,
and to taste the pleasures procured by the fine
arts. – Thomas More, however, does not carry
the illusion so far as to believe that all trades,
without distinction, could lend themselves to this
combination. He recognizes that there are rude
and repulsive trades, which are carried on only
from necessity. But these trades are to fall to the
lot of the public slaves, reduced to that condition
in expiation of their crimes, or purchased by the
state in foreign countries. Thus we see the uto-
pian spirit resuscitating, in the bosom of Chris-
tianity, the institution of the helots. We must
remark, however, that the citizens themselves are
not treated much better. The law, like the dis-
cipline of a barracks, or the rule of a monastery,
intervenes in all the details of life. It prescribes
what their clothing, their food, their work and
relaxation shall be, and leaves not the least place
for freedom or intellect. —If Thomas More thinks
little of liberty, he has at least some regard for
morals. He respects marriage, and, to a certain
extent, preserves the rights of conscience by basing
the national religion on deism. No such consid-
eration for them is to be found in the system of
Campanella, which is easy to account for, since
pantheism is its basis. Pantheism confounds man,
nature and God; it does away with the individual,
and recognizes only the collective existence of
society. This is precisely what Campanella does
in his famous “City of the Sun.” All the actions,
and even the sentiments and thoughts, of its
imaginary subjects, are submitted to an absolute
authority. The chief of this solar people is some-
thing like the Supreme Father in the Saint-
Simonian system, that is, he is both a monarch,
and an infallible pontiff, a man clothed with the
attributes of God. Under him are three minis-
ters in the departments of wisdom, of power, and
of love; and under these three ministers are divers.
classes of magistrates set over all the virtues and
all the faculties, who assign to each man his rank,
his task, and, according to the manner in which
he performs it, his share in the enjoyment of the
common goods; the community is not here con-
founded with equality. And so, although women
are in common, they can be enjoyed only in ac-
cordance with the rules established by the minis-
ter of love affairs, and only on the days, at the
hours and under the circumstances most favorable.
to the improvement of the human race. Des-
potism was always dear to Campanella. In his.
“Discourse on the Spanish Monarchy,” written
many years before the “City of the Sun,” he
reaches this conclusion : the only and the true.
monarch of the world will be the sovereign pon-
tiff; all peoples will constitute only one flock un-
der the staff of only one shepherd; the king of
Spain will play the part of the dog charged to
bring back to the fold the sheep which have
strayed away, and to devour them if they resist!
— At the same time that Campanella was taking
up the ideas of Gregory VII., and paving the way
for those of Saint-Simon, Bacon was writing his
“New Atlantis”; but there is no reason why we
should concern Ourselves here with that work,
since it relates more to the reformation and re-
organization of learned societies than to the reor-
ganization and reformation of the state. It offers,
as it were, an anticipated plan of the institute of
Trance. Hobbes and Harrington had another
aim. It is laws and institutions which they
pretended to make over from top to bottom, aft-
er a preconceived model which they present us
with, Hobbes in the ‘‘Leviathan,” and Harring-
ton in the “Oceana.” Although diametrically
opposed to each other in their principles, since
the former, in the name of materialism, invites
us to servitude, whereas the latter, appealing to.
our moral dignity, urges us on to the Conquest
of liberty, these two writers have this in common,
that their views do not extend beyond the domain
of politics. Nevertheless, both are utopists; for
the unity of power, as Hobbes conceives it, the ab-
solute monarchy which disposes of men's bodies
and souls, of conscience and interests, of religion
and of the state alike, is not more easy to realize.
than the perfect equilibrium between power and
property which Harrington seeks to effect, and
which he bases on the agrarian law, as if the agra-
rian law was not itself a source and instrument of
oppression.—The Histoire des Severambes, by Denis.
Vayrasse, containing only a mixture, without any
consistency (being, so to speak, only a Weakened
echo of them), of the two systems of More and
Campanella, it may be said that the history of
utopias in the seventeenth century closes With the
1052
UTOPIA.
two creations of Fenelon, the Bétique and the Ré-
publique de Salente. The first of these presents us
not so much with a hope for the future as with a
souvenir of the past. It is a classical reminiscence
of the Arcadia of the poets. It transports us
among a pastoral people like those who lived un-
der the fabulous sceptre of Saturn. It introduces
us to men who have none of the passions, and con-
sequently none of the vices, of humanity; who
have put everything in Common, since they pos-
sess nothing, and have scarcely any wants; and to
children, enjoying the peace and innocence of their
tender years, while nature, like a kind mother,
relieves them of all care and trouble. The Repub-
lique de Salente unveils to us much more clearly
the real thought of the illustrious archbishop. It
is the picture of a people, who, with no industry
but agriculture, were able to attain the highest de-
gree of perfection and happiness. Population is
to that people the source of all wealth, and war the
source of all misery. This is the very reverse of
the maxims which guided the government of Louis
XIV. But there is something more in Fenelon’s
republic. It is, despite the simplicity of its life
and customs, an aristocratic state, the citizens of
which, divided into seven classes, are distinguished
from one another by their conditions, their occu-
pations, their rights, their clothing even, and in
which the first rank belongs to birth. It is the
ideal republic of Plato modified by Christian mor-
als and by the prejudices of race borrowed from
feudalism. — The eighteenth century, independent
and fruitful in every other matter, was only slight-
ly inventive in social and even in political utopias.
Rousseau and Mably confined themselves to re-
producing, with some necessary development, the
institutions of Lycurgus. Theirs was a retrospect-
ive utopia. Morelly, in his Code de la Nature, is
only Rousseau's echo, while Baboeuf proposed to
become Rousseau's testamentary executor. All,
while they never tired talking of liberty, succeed-
•ed only in imagining a system of slavery on the
foundation of demagogy and communism. — The
first half of the present century it is that witnessed
the birth of the boldest, the most radical and the
most brilliant utopias: Saint-Simonism, Fourier-
ism, positivist Socialism and the atheistic theocra-
cy of Auguste Comte. Even a summary exposi-
tion of these different doctrines would carry us be-
yond the limits allotted to us here. (See SoCIAL-
ISM.) But we must remark at least, that, while
these doctrines are no less chimerical than the ideas
of Plato, of Thomas More, Campanella, Hobbes
and Rousseau, they are not, at bottom, more lib-
•eral. The tendency of Saint-Simonism is to re-
establish, to the advantage of pantheism, the uni-
versal theocracy of Gregory VII. He hands over
the destinies, not only of the state, but of human-
ity, to the discretion of one man, who is at once.
prince, pontiff and infallible arbiter of the works
of human thought. There is no refuge from this
universal despotism, since both property and the
family have ceased to exist. Fourierism also de-
stroys these two fundamental institutions: proper-
ty and the family. The former it would replace
by shares of stock delivered by the state to each in
proportion to his labor, his talents and his capital.
Of the latter, thanks to the consecration of free
love, not a trace would be left. Nevertheless, it
is not directly by the establishment of despotism,
but indirectly by license in morals and the letting
loose of all the passions, that Fourier annihilates
liberty. To Fourier man is only a kind of ma-
chine, of which passion is the motive power, and
which, putting itself in gear with an analogous
machine, produces the effect desired without its
knowledge. He reaches fatalism by the way of
sensualism, and from sensualism he draws the
most extravagant and unclean consequences that
can present themselves to human thought. Lastly,
in the materialistic Utopia of Auguste Comte, the
priests of humanity, or rather of atheism, have a
power no less exorbitant than the power of the
Saint-Simonian Supreme Father. They have the
right of life and death over all works of the mind,
old and new, existing or to come into existence.
They are the absolute masters of public education
and of the state itself. They dispose, besides, of
the honor of citizens, and regulate private life after
their fancy, leaving to the lay power only the
looking after of material interests. The proleta-
riat Comte makes a public institution. Majorats
and substitutions he re-establishes under another
form, and extends them not only to landed but to
commercial and industrial property. — The con-
clusions to be drawn from this succession of chi-
meras are these : that the progress and perfecting
of social institutions are not sudden creations, is-
suing full-fledged from a human brain, and gov-
erned by one single idea, but the fruit of experi-
ence and time, of the thoughts and the efforts of
a long series of generations; that no society is
lasting or perfectible except the Society which is
founded on the liberty which respects the rights
of the individual, and leaves him responsible for
his acts and for the government and use of his
faculties; that liberty is inseparable from property,
and that it is impossible to preserve or suppress
the one without preserving or suppressing the
other; that liberty and property, in turn, suppose
the moral dignity and the inviolability of the hu-
man person. Utopias have this advantage, that
they bring these truths into greater relief, and com-
pel the human mind never again to separate the
progress of the social order from the conquests of
civil and political liberty. ADOLPH FRANCK.
VALUE.
1053.
V
ALUE. The notion of value is one funda-
mental in political economy; but unfortu-
nately there is no politico-economical idea which
requires so much effort of the power of attention
and so much patience to be thoroughly under-
stood. The reason of this is, that the phenome-
non to which it relates is purely relative, and con-
sequently difficult to characterize. In order to
acquire a just and precise idea of value, we must
therefore enter into explanations of some length.
— The things whose possession is necessary, use-
ful or agreeable to us, are numerous and various;
and we can obtain those which we ourselves need
only by parting with others of which we have the
disposal. Hence exchanges, which, by deter-
mining in what quantity one thing is accepted or
delivered in return for another, have the effect of
establishing a relation of value among all things.
Can you, for example, get one hectolitre of wine
for one hectolitre of wheat? If you can, the fact
that you can, assigns to these two products their
relative value. They figure in the exchange as
equal quantities, and the One has the same value
as the other. Suppose that from some cause,
however, we have to give, not one hectolitre, but
120 litres of wheat for one hectolitre of wine; this
establishes a new ratio between the quantities ex-
changed, and the values are no longer the same.
The value which the wheat possessed relatively to
the wine fell just in proportion to the increase in
the number of litres to be delivered in exchange
for one hectolitre of wine; the value of the wine,
on the contrary, increased in proportion to the
diminution in the quantity of it to be furnished in
order to procure one hectolitre of wheat. What
one of the products has lost in value the other has
gained, and this in exactly the same proportion.
What we have just said of wine and wheat, is true
of all possible products. They all give rise to ex-
changes, and each of them obtains a value founded
on the quantity either of another product, or, in
general, of the other products for which it can at
any given moment be exchanged. — The advance
of civilization long since did away with barter.
The more numerous and diverse products became,
the more men realized the necessity of choosing
one of them to serve as a medium of exchange;
and coined money was chosen for this office, be-
cause it possesses certain qualities in a greater
degree than any other. Money is one of those
things which men desire because of the services
which they render, and for which, when in need
of them, they give a certain amount of other
things. This fact, while it gives to money a cer-
tain value in each of the other products, gives also
to each of these a value in money; determined by
the amount which is required to procure them.
Thus, the amount of money which all these prod-
ucts command, i. e., the price which is given for
them, eonstitutes a common denominator of the
value which they have in commercial transactions,
and it is only necessary to compare their prices to.
know their relative value. If a hat is worth three
dollars, this price, compared with that of sugar, of
cloth, of a plow, or of any object whatever, shows.
how much of these different products can be ob-
tained for it, and consequently what value hats.
acquire from the quantity either of some particular
product or of other products in general which
their possession confers the power of acquiring.
The existence of an intermediary which assures to
the values attached to the various products a term
of comparison equally applicable to them all, and
which renders it easy to follow the fluctuations in
their values, is an immense advantage. But it is.
important to bear in mind that prices and values.
are very distinct things. (See PRICEs.) Prices.
express only the quantity of coined money which
each product is worth, and this quantity is subject.
to changes which have their own special causes,
but which, while they modify prices, have no influ-
ence on the relation of values that exists between
the products themselves. Thus we see everything
in value is relative. It is the relation existing
between two things exchanged, a relation which
depends upon the respective quantities which each
must deliver to the other in order that the ex-
change may be made on equal conditions, a rela-
tion of which (from the very fact that these con-
ditions must be equal) one of the terms (wherever
there is a relation, there must be at least two terms)
can not be affected in any sense whatever, with-
out the other term being affected at the same mo-
ment in a contrary sense. It is essential that this
purely relative character of value be clearly under-
stood, if we would not fall into a multitude of
economic errors, so, great a part does value play
in the speculative part of the science. Among the
many consequences which flow from the idea of
the relativeness of value, there are two which we
will single out, if only to throw a little more light
on a subject naturally intricate and abstract: one
is, that there are only values, and there is no such
thing as a collective value, formed by the union
of particular values, susceptible of division, degree
or measure; the other is, that there can be no such
thing as a general rise or fall of values. And in
fact, the values in things being only the expression
of the quantity of other things which can be ob-
tained in exchange for them, it is impossible that
values should increase in the One case without
diminishing in the other. The moment it becomes.
necessary to give more wheat in order to have a
given quantity of wine, we give less wine to pro-
cure a given quantity of wheat. The fall in the
value of wheat produces the rise in the value of
wine, and it is thus in all exchanges. There is no
rise of values which does not suppose a fall, and
1054
VALUE.
in like manner no fall which does not suppose a
rise. — It has taken much time and reflection to
free the theory of value from the complications
which rendered it uncertain and obscure. In vain
did the first economists examine the question; they
did not succeed in presenting its solution under
forms sufficiently clear and precise. It would be
wrong to blame them for this. To the difficulties
met with in the analysis and definition of every
relation (ratio), when neither of its terms has any-
thing fixed in it, there were added others, in the
case of these first economists, caused by the very
imperfection of the language they were obliged to
use. In common parlance, the word value had
different significations. It was used indifferently
to designate, at one time, the degree of utility in-
herent in the use of things; at another, the power of
acquisition which these things possessed with re-
gard to other things; at another still, their money
price. Hence came, in the ideas suggested by the
word value, associations which prevented people
from noting differences and distinctions between
these ideas, without the noting of which it was
impossible to reduce them all to their essential
meaning. —What economists first thought of was
the necessity of attaching to the word value qual-
ifying terms intended to characterize each of the
meanings which it owed to usage. The French
seconomists of the last century resolved to apply
the term usual value (valeur usuelle) to that quality
which gives things the capacity directly to satisfy
the wants of those who possess them, and venal
value (valeur venale) to those qualities which give
things that capacity only by means of exchange.
This was the course taken by Adam Smith also.
What the physiocrates called usual value, he des-
ignated as value in use, and value in exchange
what they called, less correctly, venal value. The
moment people introduced into science two dis-
tinct meanings for the word value, instead of re-
serving it, as the most eminent economists do now,
to express only the ratio of quantity between
things exchanged, it became necessary to make
use of adjectives to determine which of the two
significations they intended to give to the word,
each time they used it. But even this care could
not sufficiently obviate the grave inconvenience
of using one and the same generic term to express
qualities and circumstances which in themselves
have nothing in common. Conceptions which
involved the idea of value remained undecided;
men’s minds were confused by applying the idea
of one kind of value to another, and the way was
opened to confusions which seriously impaired the
progress and authority of the science. — It will be
necessary to call attention to several of these con-
fusions by reason of the place which they occupy
in the writings of the older economists, and which
they have retained even in the works of some of
their successors. Some observations upon the most
serious of these confusions will serve, on the one
hand, to guard us against certain errors into which
it is easy to fall, and on the other, by showing
what value is not, will make it easier to perceive
what it really is. – We will mention only those
which it is important to call attention to. We
may consider them as follows: the confusion of
value with price; the confusion of value with cer-
tain circumstances by which it is influenced; the
confusion of value with wealth; and, as a conse-
Quence of this last, confusion in the search for an
undiscoverable measure of value. — It was easy,
and even natural, to a certain extent, to confound
values and prices, since, considering them from
product to product, the ones serve to measure the
others. In the ordinary course of facts we begin
by exchanging the products which we have to dis-
pose of, for their value in money, then we give
the amount of money received for the other things
which we wish to procure, and it is certain that
the value in money of these things really corre-
sponds to their relative value. An article that is
worth two dollars in money is worth twice as
much as that which is worth only one dollar, and
if the exchange were made in kind, we would
have to give double the quantity of one to obtain
the other. But we must bear in mind that prices
merely express the relation that exists between the
quantities for which money, and other products,
are reciprocally placed in the balance, and this re-
lation remains subject to the empire of circum-
stances which may affect the disposable quantity
of money. If money is abundant, it will be more
freely offered for each of the products which it is
used to purchase; then its value decreases, and
prices rise. If money, on the contrary, becomes
scarce, less of it will be given in exchange for
other things in commercial transactions, its value
will increase, and prices, on the contrary, will fall.
Thus, unlike values, which can neither increase
nor decrease simultaneously, prices, which are the
simple results of the comparative value of money
and all other products against which it is ex-
changed, undergo fluctuations peculiar to them-
selves, and they may all rise or fall at once. The
confusion of prices and values has been the un-
fortunate cause of rendering nations which were
not wanting in scientific worth, singularly obscure.
It has led economists to conclude from prices to
values, and from values to prices, to suppose them
governed by the same laws, and subject to the
same accidents, and to attribute to the amount of
prices, an influence which it should not have.
Hence proceeded errors which deservedly esteemed
economists have not always avoided, and of which
the works of Ricardo himself afford but too many
examples.— One of the most frequent confusions,
and one which, by its generality, has proved much
more prejudicial to the science, is that which con-
founds value with some of the circumstances that
concur in giving value to things. This is the im-
mediate result of the many different acceptations
given to the word value. Writers employed the ex-
pressions “value in use” and “value in exchange”;
thenceforth it was natural that people should
imagine that there must exist between the two
kinds of value some secret affinity, some link or
bond of union covered by some higher principle,
VALUE.
105.5
common to both, and they set to work to find that
principle. Adam Smith believed he discovered it
in materiality and duration; Ricardo, in labor; J.
B. Say, in utility; others, in rarity, etc., etc. The
inevitable consequence was, that they mistook
the very nature of value, and forgot its origin and
character; and nevertheless, among the masters of
political economy, only a few of the more recent
have succeeded in completely escaping from an
illusion produced by the use of an inexact and
vicious terminology.—The observations suggested
by these errors are applicable to all such affinity
except rarity. What is value? As we have already
said, it is simply a ratio of quantity between prod-
ucts exchanged, and it is perfectly clear that it can
not be found outside of this relation. Doubtless,
when, in order to obtain a product, we consent to
give others which belong to us in exchange for it,
what determines us to do so is some quality in the
product itself which pleases us, and which is not
to be found, or which is found only in a smaller
proportion, in those which we give in return for
it. This is the reason for every exchange that is
made : there would be no exchange if all things
possessed the same qualities, and could procure for
us the same enjoyments, and satisfy the same
wants; and it is surprising that this simple remark
did not suffice to prevent men from connecting
with this or that particular quality of things the
principle of their value. — There are things which,
in order to answer to the wants in view of which
we seek them, should possess materiality and
“duration; there are others which must have ab-
sorbed a great deal of labor in their making, and
Others again which must be susceptible of imme-
diate consumption : we exchange them for one
another because our wants and our tastes are differ-
ent, and because, if to build a house, we must have
materials whose duration will resist the ravages
of time; we must have, in order to feed ourselves,
bread and meat, which do not last, and for our
recreation, theatrical representations, concerts and
amusements, which produce but a passing emo-
tion, and leave no trace except in our remembrance.
— Utility is essential to the value of things, in this
general Sense, that we give nothing for any of
them but upon condition of finding, in their pos-
:Session or in the use which we make of them,
Some pleasure or enjoyment; it may be well to
recall, however, that the nature of the wants
which they are intended to satisfy has no influence
On the more Or the less of value which attaches to
them. We must first provide for the most impe-
rious necessities of life, and obtain the means of
Satisfying them ; but, this once done, each one
takes into Consideration other consumers, and this
consideration is ampler in proportion as he can
accord them more. The wants of the intellect and
of the heart, love of the arts, taste for luxury, the
promptings of pride or vanity—all concur in de-
termining the esteem in which things are held;
and it is not uncommon for men to pay for a
flower, or ribbon, or the pleasure of hearing a
Violinist, for instance, a price equivalent to a con-
siderable quantity of the products without which
we would have to suffer the deadly attacks of cold
or hunger.—What gives at times an immense value
to products, whose deprivation causes neither in-
convenience nor physical suffering, is the price
that is put upon them by those who are able to
obtain them, and the sacrifices men make in order
to possess them. There are men rich enough to
gratify their every fancy; and, no matter what the
things which their fancy craves, these things from
the moment they are sought after and there is a
demand for them, acquire, equally with other
objects, a real value, based upon the amount of
other things which men give in order to obtain
them. Although there is nothing that is indif-
ferent in the feelings and tastes which dictate the
employment of wealth, from the standpoint of
morality, of the future and of social progress,
nothing can prevent the objects which serve to
gratify frivolous and even blamable desires from
having the value of the objects for which they can
be exchanged.— Among other consequences fol.
lowing the opinion that value should have a fun-
damental principle in one of the material qualities
inherent in things, there is one consequence which
has given rise to so many controversies, that we
can not pass it over in silence here. It has been
asked whether it were possible that immaterial
things, acts, efforts, services, which are not real-
ized under a tangible and durable form, could have
a value; and a goodly number of writers have an-
swered in the negative. The services of govern.
ments, of magistrates, of the clergy, of physicians,
and of members of the bar; instruction given by
masters, professors and artists—all these and many
other similar things have been declared without
real value; and this despite the fact that it was
very evident that those who felt the want of these
services did not hesitate to give, in order to obtain
them, large quantities of things to which value
was attributed because of their materiality. This
erroneous opinion has now, however, but few ad-
herents. It is recognized that nothing which men
prize sufficiently to give a price for, can be devoid
of value, and that those things which are called
immaterial have, like all other things, a value pro-
portioned to the quantity of each of the different
things which they put those who dispose of such
immaterial products in a way to procure for them-
selves. This error regarding immaterial services
has not been confined to the question of value;
we meet with it also in essays upon production,
wealth and labor. — Rarity deserves special men-
tion. It is not, like materiality, duration, labor,
or utility, a quality substantially incorporated in
things; it is merely the effect of a disproportion
between the quantity in demand and the quantity
obtainable, and it, therefore, exercises an effectual
influence on the value of the things of which it is
either the ordinary or the accidental lot. What
causes rarity is the impossibility of increasing a
thing at the pleasure of those who wish to obtain
it; hence they vie for its possession, and give in
exchange for it a much larger quantity of other
1056
VALUE.
things than they would if it were more abundant.
This it is that assures a very great value to certain
products which are found in small number; this
it is also which for a moment gives an extraordi-
nary value to the most common products, such as
wine, wheat, wool, cloth, or glass, when, by Some
accident, the want of them is felt. But rarity,
besides being at all times an evil, is, like value
itself, only the effect of a relation, and can exist
only on condition that it (rarity) does not become
general. When bread is more scarce than usual,
it acquires an increase of value, but this increase
it acquires only because the products given in ex-
change for it lose in relation to it some of their
own proper value, and lose this only because they
retain their accustomed abundance. If they be-
came rare or scarce at the same time and in the
same proportion as bread, the relation between
the quantities exchanged would have suffered
no alteration, and their respective values would
have remained the same. Rarity acts Only pri-
vately, only to the extent that it is confined to cer-
tain products in opposition to others; and to ele-
vate rarity into the dignity of the general princi-
ple of value, is to make a strange mistake; for it
is evident, that if rarity extended at the same time
to everything offered in exchange, its effects would
disappear immediately. — The confusions between
value and wealth do not lead to consequences of
so much importance. They spring from correla:
tions which have a real existence, and it is easy to
explain them. Private wealth is in proportion to
the value of the things of which it is made up.
Lands, houses, capital, merchandise, in a word,
everything which belongs to individuals, is sus-
ceptible of exchange, and consequently possesses
the value resulting from the amount of things of
another kind which it can be used to obtain. In
order to know, therefore, the amount of his wealth
it will be sufficient for an individual to ascertain
the value in money, the price, of each of the things
which he possesses, and then to compare the sum
of these prices with what it will enable him to
procure in other things. But the correlation be-
tween private wealth and the value of the differ-
ent elements of which it is made up, does not ex-
tend to real, positive and general wealth. This
latter constitutes a whole, and for Want of a term
of comparison (because it is not exchangeable) it
can not be estimated in any manner. If the things
comprised in the sphere which general wealth em-
braces have all the value which is conferred on
each one of them by its particular power of ac-
quisition with regard to other things, the same
can not be said of the mass; for this mass admits
of no comparison which would permit us to assign
it a value, and it would be vain to attempt to find,
in the variable relations of exchange that exist
between its constitutive parts, an expression which
would cover them all. Hence we must have re-
course to circumstances entirely foreign to the
value which the elements of general wealth receive
solely from the exchanges to which they give rise,
if we wish to estimate the extent of the wealth of
nations in general, or of a nation considered sep.
arately. — However, it will not be without some
utility to explain still more the differences which,
necessarily distinguish value from wealth. Wealth,
taken in its aggregate, is the possession of those
things by means of which men attain to the sat-
isfaction of their wants, and the more abundant
these things are, the greater wealth is. Therefore,
it is by its ratio to the wants which it is destined
to satisfy, that we must estimate wealth, and this
ratio can not be affected by the ratios which exist
between the things that constitute iſ. Not that
wealth can increase without modifying the pre-
existing ratios of value. Wealth increases only
to the extent that the efforts of labor, becoming
more ingenious and more fruitful, produce a great-
er amount of some one of those things whose use
is either necessary, agreeable or useful to us; from
which it follows that this thing offered and deliv-
ered in exchange for others in a greater quantity
than before, loses something of its relative value,
and causes these other things to gain in relative
value. Thus every advance in wealth has the
effect of reducing the value of the products which
it increases, and of raising the value of the prod-
ucts on which it has no effect. This is an emi-
nently beneficial change to the people among
whom it takes place; but from the point of view
of value the change has no effect, because the
value of each thing depends on relations one of
whose terms can not increase without the others.
decreasing. — It is so difficult for the mind to see .
in value only the effect of a ratio of exchange,
that for a long time most of the economists were
preoccupied with the idea of discovering some
measure for it. This was a seeking for the im-
possible. It would have been necessary to find a
value to measure value, and where could a value.
be found which was not itself the result of a ratio,
and, because the result of a ratio, as changeable
and variable as the other values to which it was .
sought to make it serve as a comparative measure
or standard? But the search for this measure of
value has been so common that we can not pass it
over without remark. — Among the things which
have attracted attention as specially fitted to serve.
as a measure of values, coined money, human la-
bor and wheat have been accorded the preference.
But it was not given to any one of the three to act
as such measure better than the others. When
money was taken as the measure of values, it was .
indeed possible to find what was the value in mon-
ey of each product at a given moment, and thus.
to find a comparative term applicable to all prod-
ucts; but it was not possible to discover in money
itself a fixed value protected from the variations
which are the effects of causes operating On the
quantities of the products which have just come
into the market to be exchanged one against the
other. It was plain that gold and silver, of
which money is made, like all other products,
varied in value, according to their greater or less
abundance in the market, and that they had a
very unequal power of acquisition at different.
VALUE.
1057
epochs, and were also subject to the empire of cir-
cumstances, which at one time rendered their ex-
traction more costly, and at others made their
consumption greater or more necessary. — And so
of human labor, in which Smith had placed the
origin of value, and which he had pointed out as
the one thing which afforded its most exact meas-
ure. Human labor is unquestionably an element
in all production of wealth; but it in no wise fol-
lows that its value is absolute, and, that in the
relation which it holds to the things against
which it is exchanged, it constitutes a term fixed
and constant. On the contrary, labor is more or
less in demand, and is better or worse compen-
sated at different periods; this is clearly demon-
strated by the frequent fluctuations of wages. –
As to wheat, two reasons caused it to be consid-
ered that it might serve as a measure of value.
One of them was the supposition that the same
quantity of wheat must have served at all times
to satisfy equal wants of nutrition per individual;
the other was the supposition that alimentary
products must have preserved, in exchanges, a
fixed value, since such products have the power
always to create for themselves the demand neces-
sary to correspond to the extent of their supply.
The first of these suppositions is erroneous; for
wheat is far from having been at all times and in
the same quantity an object of man’s consump-
tion; the second is true only within certain limits,
and in what concerns not any special product, but
the aggregate of all the products which minister
to the wants of subsistence. Be this as it may, the
value of wheat is, and always will be, a relative
one, dependent upon the action of circumstances,
among which we may reckon the extension and
progress of agriculture, and the amount of manu-
factured products for which it can be exchanged,
an amount which tends to increase in proportion
as the labor required to produce them increases.
in power and skill. — The efforts made by econo-
mists to discover a measure of value, prove how
difficult it is to disentangle the idea of value itself
from the complications by which it is surrounded,
and with which it presents itself to the mind.
Many writers, even of our own day, have not suc-
ceeded in doing so, and it would be easy to cite
comparatively recent works in which tendencies
to suppose in things the existence of an absolute
value still subsist. We must of course make due
allowance for the lack of precision in the form
under which every fact of relation manifests itself
to the mind; but even more allowance must be
made for the imperfection of the terminology in
use. So long as the word value is used in differ-
ent senses, we expose ourselves to a confusion of
ideas, and the wisest plan would be to take a de-
cided stand in this matter. John Stuart Mill pro-
poses to use the word value to express only the
effect of the relation in virtue of which products
are bartered one for another, In proportion of such
and such a quantity of the one against such and
such a quantity of other things. There is noth-
ing more necessary in the interest of science, nor
186 VOL. III. — 67
is there anything easier. We have the word price
to designate the value of things in coined money;
we have the terms immediate or direct utility, and
other expressions to designate what is so improp-
erly called value in use. It is easy to reserve for
each thing an expression which maintains in lan-
guage the distinction itself, the special sense which
belongs to it. — Let it be distinctly understood,
therefore, that through the rest of this article we
shall use the word value only in its real sense. It
shall be used to express only the quantity either
of a thing or of the things in general which a
thing serves to obtain; in other words, the power
of acquisition which it exercises by means of ex-
change. — Upon what conditions may things be
considered to possess value? On what foundations
does the property which renders them exchange-
able, rest? What are the circumstances which de-
termine in what quantity one thing shall be given
for another? The meaning of the word value once
clearly determined, these questions become simple,
and are easily solved. — First of all, it is plain
that nothing is exchangeable except upon condi-
tion, first, of possessing qualities which render it
desirable, and second, of being obtainable only at
the cost of some effort and pains. No one gives
any of those things which every one may have
without labor, and value belongs only to those
things whose possession costs labor and fatigue.
The man who wishes to obtain a thing compares
the satisfaction which it will afford him with the
sacrifices he must make to obtain it, and decides
to part with such or such a quantity of other
things which belong to him, in order to procure
it. It matters little what motives prompt him
to acquire it, whether an imperative want, a
frivolous taste, or a simple caprice, the thing
has the value at the moment of what he con-
sents to give for it. The diamond for which a
value equal to a thousand hectolitres of grain is
Offered and accepted, has as much value as these
thousand hectolitres. In like manner, a hundred
kilogrammes of salt are worth no more than the
lesson of a dancing master, or the service of
a hair dresser, if the price paid for the lesson
or the service is sufficient to enable us to buy
the same quantity of salt.—The qualities which
render things desirable, the impossibility of obtain-
ing them without personal labor, or without giving
in exchange for them other things which have cost
personal labor: such are the conditions which con-
fer value on things. The extent or the measure
of the value of a thing depends upon the greater
or less difficulty which those who covet or need it
find in procuring it. It is this that makes the
momentary value of a thing depend upon the re-
lation existing between its supply and the demand .
for it. If a product is not to be found in sufficient
quantity to supply all the demand for it, those
who desire it enter into competition for its posses-
sion; they give in exchange for it more of other
products, or of the money with which other prod-
ucts are bought, and, as a consequence, its value
rises. If the contrary happens, that is, if a product
105S
VALUE.
enters the market in a greater abundance than
there is a demand for, its value falls. Those who
possess it can not keep it forever; they are obliged
to dispose of it, in order to procure other things
which are necessary to them, and find themselves
constrained, in parting with it, to be content with
a smaller quantity of the products they receive in
return. Thus it is the condition of supply and
demand which assigns to each thing its power of
acquisition over other things. All things increase
in value when the demand for them is greater than
the supply of them; all diminish in value when the
supply of them is greater than the demand for
them; hence the variations of price to which things
are subject, variations which, by expressing the
differences that arise in the sums of money against
which those things which experience them are ex-
changed, express like differences in the quantities
of other things which these sums enable one to
obtain. — Besides, it must be remarked that the
demand for a thing naturally extends or contracts
in proportion to the modifications which its value
undergoes. When there is a lack of a product it
grows dearer; and as then there are many persons
to be found whose desire to procure it is checked
by the increase of the sacrifices which they must
make to obtain it, the demand, checked by its in-
crease in value, is restrained within the limits set
by value itself. In like manner, when the price
of a thing decreases, purchasers increase in num-
ber, and its value descends only to the point neces-
sary that such a product may be found in the mar-
ket in a quantity proportioned to the supply.
Hence the fluctuations of value occasioned by the
changes in the relation of supply and demand, have
for effect the maintenance of an equality between
the two terms of that relation; that is, an equi-
librium between supply and demand. — We 111ust
not, however, infer from this fact that there exists
any proportionality whatever between the move-
ments of value and the differences in quantity of
the things supplied. Everything depends, in the
effect produced on the value of the goods, whether
by the increase or the decrease of the supply, on
the nature of these goods, and on the kind of wants
they are intended to satisfy. All goods are not
equally necessary to life; and if there are some
the demand for which is greatly curtailed because
their value has risen even ever SO little, there are
others, the demand for which people are not nearly
so free to lessen. The value of wheat doubles the
moment the quantity that can be delivered de-
creases one-fifth, and is trebled, when this quantity
is reduced one-fourth. Wine does not increase in
value in the same proportion when the quantity
supplied diminishes, for the reason that its con-
sumption is less indispensable; and the products
which it is still easier to do without increase in
value much less, than wine when their supply
diminishes. On the other hand, the qualities
which render products more or less easy to keep
in the state required for use, exert a sensible in-
fluence upon the decrease in their value. In case
of an extraordinary or superabundant harvest,
there are crops which are abandoned to the first
comer who wishes to take them, because the
owner can not utilize them all himself, and be-
cause the price at which he is compelled to sell
them will not pay the cost of transferring them
to the nearest market. What we are warranted
to assert is this, that value is fixed by the relation
existing between supply and demand ; that it
usually increases or decreases in such a way as to
equilibrate the two terms of that relation, but in
no wise in proportions conformable to the differ-
ences expressed in the figure of the quantities
supplied. —How decisive soever the influence ex-
ercised by the momentary state of supply and
demand may be, the value of things has none the
less its own raison d'être, and a measure which,
in despite of the accidents which serve to expand
or contract it, constantly tends to return to its
normal dimensions. Wainly do the fluctuations
of supply and demand succeed one another in con-
trary directions, these fluctuations necessarily end
by compensating one for the other, and the point
at which they meet marks the natural value of
things. – What assigns a natural value to things
is the fact that it costs something to produce
them; that is, the onerosity which attaches to their
production. This is true of all things, except of
those the quantity of which can not be increased,
or which can not be sufficiently increased to keep
up with the demand for them. With this one
exception, all things are exchanged against One
another in accordance with the amount of cost
necessary to fashion them for the use of, and to
transport them to, the consumer. Those which
cost most are exchanged in a lesser numeric quan-
tity, against those which cost less, and thus the
differences in their costs of production of various
articles are balanced. (See CoSI: OR PRODUCTION.)
— Before attempting to show that this can not be
otherwise, we must first recall what constitutes.
the cost of production. This cost is twofold:
part of the cost of production is constant and un-
avoidable, and enters, though in unequal amounts,
into all production; part is accidental, arising from
artificial or special causes, and does not attach to
all production. The first part of the cost of pro-
duction here referred to consists in the expenses
of labor and in the expenses attached to the em-
ployment of capital. There is nothing whose pro-
duction does not require a certain amount of
both these expenses. In the productions of the
humblest artisan, days of labor and the consump-
tion of capital under various forms, figure. Raw
material has been purchased and transformed ;
tools and implements have been deteriorated ;
there have been risks and losses which must be
covered; and, in addition to all this, there is the
interest which must be paid on the capital em-
ployed : it is necessary that the thing produced
should be exchanged on such conditions as shall
restore to the producer the wages due to his own
personal labor, as well as the wages due to the
labor of his workmen, if he employs any, and the
profit required to bring back to him the portion of
VALUE.
1059
capital which he was obliged to sacrifice during
the course of his labor. Suppose a product, which,
in order to reach the consumer, costs six francs for
workmen's wages, and four francs in profits for
the preservation of, and interest on, the capital in-
vested in it: the natural value of this product will
be the sum of these two amounts; that is, ten
francs. Thus the natural value of various prod-
ucts depends upon the proportion in which wages
and profits enter into the sum total of their cost
of production. All products tend to exchange
one against another in proportion to this natural
value; and this natural value is the value which
continues to subsist for all products as their mean
value, whatever departures from such mean value
the monentary fluctuations caused by the varia-
tions of supply and demand may make in it. —
The reason of this is plain. No industry could
subsist if the commodities and goods which it
furnishes the public were not taken at the price
which the cost of production requires. An indus-
try which could not recover in full the total of its
outlay would soon fail. Hence from the moment
that any product ceases to exchange against other
products in a quantity sufficient to balance the
expenses which must be borne by those who make
it, we notice that its manufacture begins to be re-
stricted; and the restriction does not stop until it
reaches the point at which the reduction in the
supply of the product causes it to regain the value
in which it was lacking. On the contrary, if a
product receives in other products more than the
requivalent of its real cost, the profits assured to
those who deal in it cause a speedy increase in its
production, and the increase in the amount offered
very soon deprives it of its value to the extent that
such value is exaggerated. Thus it is that the
value in things, whenever it departs from its nat-
ural point, is finally brought back to it. Competi-
tion diminishes in industries which are not suffi-
ciently remunerative, and the supply diminishes
with it; competition increases in those industries
which are uncommonly remunerative; labor and
capital abandon industries which are losing, to
engage in those which are gaining; and, Owing to
this continual change, the value respectively of the
products exchanged continues to be, or becomes
again, in the case of all products, the value deter-
mined by the amount of the cost incurred in their
production. — We do not mean to say that all
products of the same kind, considered apart from
all others, obtain in exchange merely the equiva-
lent of their own cost in other products. Far
from it ; there are some which obtain much
more, and for this reason : the quantity of each
product which can and should be produced is
determined by the demand for it, and its value
always rises high enough to assure its supply in
that quantity. But the conditions of labor are not
in all respects equal or similar. They are less fa-
vorable in some places than in others, and when
these places are called upon to furnish the market
a contingent, without which the supply would be
inadequate, it is the expenses which production
necessitates in those places that determine the gen-
eral value of products. It follows that this value
corresponds, not to an average cost, but to the cost
of the part of the product which reaches the mar-
ket after having required the greatest amount of
the different costs. In the actual state of demand
that portion has its outlet just as the others have,
and among similar products it is the dearest which
regulate the value of all, thus adding to those
which are cheaper a value greater than their cost
of production. This fact is deserving of all the
more attention, because many modern writers have
overlooked it when discussing the large profits
reaped by certain producers, and still more fre-
quently when discussing the subject of rent. — It
is, for instance, a common opinion that the rent of
land contributes to raise the price of the means of
subsistence, and that it would be otherwise under
combinations different from those which up to the
present time have governed property. Nothing,
however, could be more decidedly false. Like all
other products, those of the soil owe their value
to the demand for them. All lands are not equally
fertile; they can not all produce on the same con-
ditions, and whenever the wants of consumption
are such that recourse must be had to lands of in-
ferior quality, their products must necessarily be
paid for at a price which will compensate for the
cost attached to the cultivation of such lands. In
a country like France, in which wheat has, on an
average, a value of a little more than eighteen
francs per hectolitre, there are lands on which its
value is not twelve, and on these lands the excess
of the value for which the wheat is exchanged
Over the costs at which it is harvested is a rent
which accrues to the Owners of these lands. But
this rent has no influence upon the accrued value
to cereals; it is simply the effect of that value.
The population of France could not do without
that part of the wheat crop which could not be
produced at a cost less than eighteen francs per
hectolitre, and it is this part which assigns to the
other parts their natural value. If the demand
for the means of subsistence should increase to
such an extent as to require the cultivation of
lands on which wheat could not be produced ex-
cept at an average cost of twenty francs per hec-
tolitre, its value would rise still higher, and with
it the rent which the land paid to those who owned
it. — The superaddition of value, which the wants
of consumption confer, as compared with the
products of their cost, or the products of the ma-
jor part of the land, exists also in the case of a
multitude of different industries. Thus it is the
cost of extracting ore from those mines in which
such cost is greatest, but whose product is neces-
sary in order to meet the demand, which fixes the
value of the ore. The same is true in manufact-
uring industries; the demand for the articles which
they produce raises the value of these articles to a
figure necessary to pay for the products of those
manufacturing industries which are carried on, it
matters not for what reason, at the greatest ex-
pense; and the higher net cost which is peculiar
1060
VALUE.
to these latter, assures to the articles of all the
other industries a value which exceeds the real
amount of their cost of production. — But, if the
value of the things which are susceptible of indefi-
nite increase finds its rule and measure in the cost
of the production of those of them which in or-
der to reach the people who want them cost most,
it is otherwise with the value of the things whose
quantity it is impossible to increase at the desire
or whim of the public. Their rarity exercises an
influence on the value of the latter; and raises their
value in a proportion which has no relation what-
ever with what they cost or did cost to produce.
A work of art from the hands of one of the old
masters, the autograph of an historic personage, or
some object which he used during his lifetime, a
jewel, a piece of armor, a bronze, a statue found
under the lava of Pompeii or among the ruins of
Athens or Rome, has an immense value; and there
are persons who, to obtain one of these products,
would part with a quantity of things in which
had been invested a thousand times more wages
and profit on capital than was invested originally
in the product they purchase. In like manner
precious stones, pearls of the first water, gold and
silver and other precious metals, possess a value
far in excess of what it cost to discover and ex-
tract them. Nature did not create them in suffi-
cient quantity to satisfy the desires of all. So
also, wines, fruits and tobaccos of certain choice
brands, which possess special qualities that cause
them to be eagerly sought after, possess in ex-
change a value far superior to that which their
cost of production would give them. They can
not be increased ; their supply has forced limits;
and the desire of obtaining them induces people
to give much more for them than it costs to pro-
duce them. — Besides rarity, there are artificial
circumstances which affect the value of things
and help to increase it beyond what the cost of
production would warrant. Such are taxes (ex-
cept taxes on land, in so far as they affect only the
rent), monopolies and restrictions on the freedom
of trade. Every tax has the inevitable effect of
increasing the price of the merchandise or prod-
uct upon which it is imposed. The person who
pays the tax must be reimbursed ; he adds the
amount of the tax to what the article costs him,
and in exchange he receives back the amount
which he paid the state in addition to the natural
value of the thing. Such are the effects on the
value of things of the taxes levied on them be-
fore they reach the consumer, no matter for what
reason, at what moment or under what form such
taxes are levied. The treasury of the state can
levy nothing on them without increasing the cost
of their production, and consequently without in-
creasing in an equal measure the value for which
they are sold. The effect of monopolies is equally
pronounced, and more lamentable. Monopolies
are of different kinds; some are established for the
benefit of the state, and serve as a source of reve-
nue for it. Of this kind is the monopoly on to-
bacco in France: the government alone purchases
the product in the crude state, manufactures it,
and furnishes it for sale at a price which assures,
the state an annual revenue. Whatever superad-
dition of value such monopolies give to the prod-
ucts which they affect, is warranted if they serve.
to relieve a country of other taxes, which would,
cause still greater inconveniences, and this must
be borne in mind when considering these monopo-
lies. Patents also constitute a monopoly in favor
of the patentees; they may be a just remuneration,
for the labor and sacrifice to which, an invention,
was due; but it is only by exaggerating the value
of the patented article that they exercise any in-
fluence. Producers who are free from all compe-
tition are masters of the market, and it is an easy
matter for them so to manage as to sell only at a.
large profit on the cost of production. The ex-
clusion of foreign merchandise, through custom
house duties intended to reserve the home market.
for home producers, has to a certain extent the-
same effect as patents. Consumers are forced to.
pay a higher price for the protected products than,
they can be bought for elsewhere, and are sub-
jected to sacrifices which could and should be:
spared them. This alteration of the natural rela-
tions of value between exchangeable products is,
a real evil; nothing could be more prejudicial to
the proper employment of productive forces, and
thereby to the progress of social power and wealth.
Such acts can be justified only by the necessity of
defraying public expenses; but the products whose
cost of production and value are to be artificially
increased by the imposition of duties, should be:
carefully selected. The more these products are:
necessary for the satisfaction of wants common to,
all, the less those classes who consume scarcely
any other products, and who have only the labor
of their hands to give in exchange therefor, will
have of them, and the more difficult it will be for
them to reach that degree of well-being without
which their condition can not be improved. —
Value, relative in its very essence, and based for
each thing solely upon the quantity of another:
thing, or of other things in general, which it en-
ables one to obtain, can not be affected by any
of the circumstances which act equally upon all,
things at once. Its elements are labor and capital.
It is the very quantity of these two things which
every product absorbs before becoming a fit ob-
ject of consumption that fixes its relative value;
and no matter what the rate of wages or profits in
a country may be, as the relations of exchange:
between the products can not be changed by that
rate, neither can values be changed thereby. This,
is not the case, however, when the rate of One of
the elements of production only is modified, and
this because all products do not contain it in a like-
proportion. When wages increase, the value of
those things into whose cost of production it more
largely enters, naturally rises, and the value of
those which require less manual labor than Capi-
tal is comparatively lessened. The contrary is true
when the rate of profits increases. In this case,
those things whose cost absorbs more capital than.
VAN BUREN.
VERMONT. 1061
labor increase in value, and obtain a greater quan-
tity of other things in exchange. Such fluctua-
tions in the respective value of things are of fre-
quent occurrence, and when they happen it is easy
to determine their cause. It will be noticed, how-
ever, that, in the ordinary course of facts, there
are things whose value tends to fall gradually.
These things are those whose manufacture re-
'quires more capital. The reason of this is, that,
, as civilization advances, capital accumulates in
such a way that those who possess it are forced to
content themselves with smaller profits. – Such
are the laws which govern value, and preside over
its distribution among things. Value is not a qual-
ity incorporated in things, but is for each product
the effect of a relation of exchange, the effect of
the quantity of other products it serves to obtain;
and this relation is determined, at any given mo-
Iment, by supply and demand. But, while supply
and demand regulate the values of the moment,
there is, none the less, for those things whose num-
ber may be increased indefinitely at man's pleas-
ure, a natural value, which, despite all the fluctu-
:ations to which that value is subject, always pre-
vails in the end. This natural value results from
the cost of production, and is determined by the
amount of labor and capital employed in the pro-
duction. A clear understanding of these general
principles suffices to enable us to solve all ques-
tions pertaining to value, no matter how compli-
cated they may seem to be.
HIPPOLYTE PASSY.
WAN BUREN, Martin, vice-president of the
United States 1833–7, and president 1837–41, was
born at Kinderhook, N. Y., Dec. 5, 1782, and died
there July 24, 1862. He was admitted to the bar
in 1803, and served in the state Senate 1813–20, in
the United States senate 1821–8, as governor in
1829, as secretary of state 1829–31, and as minis-
ºter to Great Britain 1831–2, this latter nomination
Theing rejected by the senate. (See ALBANY RE-
"GENCY, NEW YORK.) On his return he was suc-
ºcessively elected vice-president and president, but
was defeated in 1840. (See BANK ControvKR-
:SIES, IV.; Loco-FOCO; INDEPENDENT TREASURY.)
In 1844 his disapproval of the annexation of Texas
cost him the democratic nomination; and his New
York supporters were naturally in an attitude of
armed neutrality toward the new administration.
This state of things verged naturally toward open
war; Van Buren was nominated for president in
1848; and his nomination was successful in defeat-
ing Cass, the regular democratic nominee. This
result compelled a compromise between the two
factions, but it left Van Buren definitively out of
politics until his death. (See BARNBURNERs;
ANNExATIONS, III.; FREE-SOIL PARTY; DEMO-
CRATIC PARTY, IV.)—Van Buren is commonly
known as a master of political intrigue, the dem-
ocratic “little magician”; as the one who intro-
duced into the national civil service the debauch-
ing influences which had for thirty years con-
(trolled the civil service of his own state; as the
forerunner of that class of mere politicians which
has since 1829 generally supplanted the previous
race of trained statesmen; as a smooth, easy and
adroit manager of political machinery, without
political principles, constitutional training, or
scruples in party warfare, revering in politics
only the Albany regency, and Martin Van Buren
as its prophet. All this must be admitted, but
only in part. That Van Buren had political
principles and the courage to maintain them, even
in opposition to his own party, is shown by his
opposition, in the New York convention of 1821,
to the popular idea of universal suffrage, to
‘‘cheapening the right of suffrage by conferring
it with an indiscriminating hand upon every one,
black or white, who would be kind enough to
*
º
condescend to accept it’’; by his opposition, in
the same convention, to the equally popular pro-
posal to exclude the blacks from the right of suf-
frage; by his refusal, during the panic of 1837,
to violate his political creed by recommending in-
terference by government with the course of busi-
ness; and by his refusal in 1844 to compass his
own nomination to the presidency by indorsing
the annexation of Texas.
be set down midway between the earlier and the
later schools of politicians, with defined princi-
ples derived from his education among the former,
and yet with sufficient power of adaptation to
make use of the vicious machinery of the latter.
— See Holland's Life of Van Buren; Dawson's
Life of Van Buren; W. A. Butler's Martin Van
JBuren; Emmons' Life of Van Buren; Abbott's
Lives of the Presidents, 241; 3 Parton's Life of
Jackson; 2 Hammond’s Political History of New
York; Jenkins’ Governors of New York, 346; 4
On the whole, he may
Tucker's United States, 294; Bradford's Federal
Government, 434; 2 von Holst’s United States, 147;
2 Statesman’s Manual, 1153 (for his messages).
There is a pen portrait of Van Buren in 2 von
Holst, 149, Mackenzie's Life and Times of Van
Buren is a collection of stolen private letters of
Van Buren and others, giving a painful interior
view of “practical politics” in 1819–37.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WERMONT, a state of the American Union.—
The boundary between Massachusetts and New
Hampshire (see those states) was long disputed.
It was settled in 1740; but, before that time, both
colonies had made large grants of land to intend-
ing settlers in the disputed territory. After the
settlement, a new question came up. New Hamp-
shire, believing that her territory extended at least
as far west as that of Massachusetts, claimed all
the territory west of the Connecticut river, cov-
ered by the present state of Vermont, and, pursu-
ing the usual policy in such cases, continued to
make grants of land therein, in order to fill it
with settlers devoted to her interests, and depend-
ent on her supremacy for the title to their lands.
In 1749 New York appeared as a claimant, though
on what ground it is hard to see. She had acqui.
esced in the western boundary of Massachusetts
1062
VERMONT.
and Connecticut, as a compromise of their char-
ter claim of the Pacific Ocean, or at least the Mis-
sissippi, as a western boundary; but New Hamp-
shire had no such charter claim. The fact seems
to be that neither New York nor New Hampshire
had any rightful claim, and that this territory had
been overlooked, and was within the limits of no
colony. In 1764 New York obtained an arbitrary
decision of the king in her favor, and at once un-
dertook to make the settlers on the “New Hamp-
shire grants,” as the territory now began to be
called, pay for their land anew. All the judicial
machinery of New York was brought into requi-
sition to oust the settlers who refused to pay, and,
although the king in 1769 ordered the issue of fur-
ther New York grants to cease for the time, the New
York courts did not cease to harass the settlers.
The latter resisted the New York authorities bold-
ly; organized militia forces; selected headquar-
ters, marked by a liberty pole surmounted by a
wild cat grinning defiance toward New York;
and maintained their independence of both the
claimants. Throughout the revolution they main-
tained a separate warfare against the British, and
toward its close there were even some negotiations
looking to a separate peace; but the final treaty of
peace in establishing the northern boundary of
the United States, recognized the “New Hamp-
shire grants” as included in the new nation. —
Jan. 17, 1777, a convention at Westminster de-
clared the grants to be an independent state, by
the name of “New Connecticut.” A new con-
vention at Windsor, July 2–8, 1777, gave the state
the name of Vermont, and adopted the Pennsyl-
vania constitution of 1776, with some few changes,
prominent among which was a prohibition of slav-
ery. (See ABOLITION, I.) The preamble con-
tained a full statement of the grievances by reason
of which Vermont had refused to submit to New
York’s jurisdiction. New Hampshire made little
opposition to Vermont’s proceedings, and Massa-
chusetts recognized the new state in 1781; but
New York's opposition was sufficient to prevent
her admission to the Union. In 1781 Vermont
proceeded to admit to her assembly delegates
from the southwestern part of New Hampshire
and the northeastern part of New York, east of
the Hudson ; but, though she disavowed these an-
nexations in the following year, New York still
prevented her admission. But New York was
wearying of the struggle. Her assembly in 1786
voted final compensation to her worsted adher-
ents, and in 1789 appointed commissioners to ac-
knowledge the independence of Vermont. Jan.
6, 1791, a state convention decided to apply for
admission, and the state was admitted by act of
Feb. 18, to take effect March 4.—CONSTITUTIONS.
The provision for a “council of censors,” to meet
Once in Seven years and revise the constitution,
which was abandoned by Pennsylvania in 1790,
was retained by Vermont until 1870. By their
proposition of amendments, and their ratification
by state conventions, the original constitution (see
PENNSYLVANIA) has since been slightly modified.
In 1836 the original single house was divided into.
a senate and house of representatives, both elected.
annually, in the former by counties, and in the lat-
ter by towns. In 1870 the term of office of the leg-
islature, governor and other state officers was ex-
tended to two years; the council of censors was.
abolished; and its powers to impeach state officers.
and to propose amendments were transferred to
the legislature. In 1882 the manufacture or sale.
of intoxicating liquors was prohibited. – GOV-
ERNORs. Moses Robinson, 1789–90; Thomas Chit-
tenden, 1790–97; Isaac Tichenor, 1797–1807; Is-
rael Smith, 1807–8; Isaac Tichenor, 1808–9; Jonas.
Galusha, 1809–13; Martin Chittenden, 1813–15;
Jonas Galusha, 1815–20; Richard Skinner, 1820–
23; Cornelius P. Van Ness, 1823–6; Ezra Butler,
1826–8; Samuel C. Crafts, 1828–31; William A.
Palmer, 1831–35; Silas A. Jenison, 1835–41;.
Charles Paine, 1841–3; John Mattocks, 1843–4;.
Wm. Slade, 1844–6; Horace Eaton, 1846–9; Carlos.
Coolidge, 1849–50; Charles R. Williams, 1850–52;
|Frastus Fairbanks, 1852–3 ; John S. Robinson,
1853–4; Stephen Boyce, 1854–6; Ryland Fletcher,
1856–8; Hiland Hall, 1858–60; Erastus Fairbanks,
1860–61; Frederick Holbrook, 1861–3; John S.
Smith, 1863–5: Paul Dillingham, 1865–7; John B.
Page, 1867–9; Peter T. Washburn, 1869–70; John
W. Stewart, 1870–2 ; Julius Converse, 1872–4;.
Asahel Peck, 1874–6; Horace Fairbanks, 1876–8;.
Redfield Proctor, 1878–80; Roswell Farnham,
1880–82; John L. Barstow, 1882–4. — POLITICAL
HISTORY. A large part of the state's original
population came from Connecticut, whence the
proposed name of “New Connecticut”; and the
subsequent drift of their descendants to the neigh-
boring state of New York accounts for many Con-
necticut names, such as Seymour, Phelps and
Chittenden, in both the other states. Most of this
immigration was democratic, so that the state's
politics inclined toward the democratic party; and
this tendency, and the likelihood that Vermont.
would vote for New York city as the national
capital, will help to account for New York’s ac-
quiescence in her admission. The administrations.
of Governors Tichenor and Martin Chittenden are:
the only distinctive federalist periods; and yet the
federalists were strong enough to control the leg-
islature, and thus obtain the state's electoral votes.
for Washington and Adams in 1792, and for Adams.
and Pinckney in 1796 and 1800. The political rev-
olution of 1800 so far intensified political interest
in the state that its majority took better care of the
electoral votes, and they were thereafter cast for
the democratic candidates until the downfall of
the federal party. But the politics of the state had
little of the bitterness which elsewhere character-
ized this period. Governor Chittenden's action
in recalling, in 1813, a brigade of the state's mil-
itia from the service of the United States, was the
only circumstance that ruffled the surface of
events; and in the following year the state's par-
ticipation in the Hartford convention was confined
to one county and a single delegate. Immediately
after the close of the war the federalist vote began.
VERMONT.
1063
to decrease rapidly, so that in 1818 Gov. Galusha
received 15,243 votes out of a total of 15,992, and
thereafter the federal party in the state had prac-
tically no existence. Until 1815 it was about on
an equality with its opponent in every county,
and in a heavy majority in the southeastern part
of the state. — As Vermont had been the first
state to abolish slavery within its own limits, it
was one of the first to declare war upon it with-
out. In the United States senate, Dec. 9, 1820,
resolutions of the Vermont legislature were pre-
sented, declaring that slavery was a moral and
political evil, to be tolerated only of necessity, and
that congress had the right to inhibit its extension
by the admission of new slave states. (See COM-
PROMISEs, IV.) These resolutions were the guide
of the state's policy until the downfall of slavery.
During and after the election of 1824 the Jackson
candidates were always hopelessly beaten, and the
“Adams republicans,” even after 1827, regularly
defeated both the Jackson and the anti-masonic
candidates. About 1831 the national republicans
and anti-masons practically united, and the state's
electors in 1832 were chosen as anti-masons, with
the understanding that they would vote for Clay
if their votes could elect him. This contingency
did not occur, and the state's vote was cast for
Wirt. (See ANTI-MASONRY.) From this time the
combination of national republican, anti-masonic
and other elements, soon to be known as the whig.
party, controlled the state, and on the dissolution
of the whig party the republican party at once
succeeded to it. In effect, the state's last demo-
cratic electoral vote was cast in 1820. Since that
year the democrats of the state have seldom polled
more than 25 per cent. of the total vote in national
elections; and, even in the great whig overthrow
of 1852, the whig electors obtained a majority of
the popular vote, Massachusetts, the only other
northern whig state of that year, only giving a
plurality. The state's political history is therefore
invariably a part of that of the whig and repub-
lican parties.— In state elections the result has reg-
ularly been the same. The only elections that have
ever been in the least degree doubtful were the
triangular contests of 1843–52, between the whigs,
the democrats and the abolitionists; but even in
these the result was always a plurality for the
whig candidates for state offices, and their final
election by the whig legislature. The election of
1847 will fairly represent most of them : Eaton
(Whig), 23,933; Dillingham (democrat), 18,059;
2 Brainard (abolitionist), 7,163. But it must be re-
membered that Vermont whigs were usually quite
as strongly anti-slavery as the abolitionists, differ-
ing from them only on the question of action.
Thus, Gov. Wm. Slade was considered a whig in
his own state, but a thorough abolitionist out of it.
On the formation of the republican party all dis-
tinction disappeared, and the party vote rose again
to about 75 per cent. of the total. In 1882 the
legislature stands as follows: senate, thirty repub-
licans, no democrats; house, 225 republicans, thir-
teen democrats. – As in several other states, the
heavy and certain majority for one party has hin-
dered the national elevation of Vermont's leading
men, among whom may be specified the follow-
ing : Stephen Roe Bradley, democratic United
States senator 1791–5 and 1801–13; Dudley Chase
(uncle of Salmon P. Chase), democratic United
States senator 1813–17 and 1825–31, and state chief
justice 1817–21; Nathaniel Chipman, state chief
justice 1789–91 and 1794–7, United States district
judge 1791–4, and United States senator 1797–1803;
Martin Chittenden, federalist congressman 1803–
13, and governor 1813–15; Jacob Collamer, state
judge 1833–42 and 1850–54, whig congressman
1843–9, postmaster general under Taylor 1849–50,
and republican United States senator 1855–65;
George F. Edmunds (republican), member of the
state house of representatives 1854–9 and senate
1861–2, United States senator 1866–87, one of the
most prominent members of that body, and one
of the candidates for the republican presidential
nomination in 1880; Horace Everett, whig con-
gressman 1829–43; Solomon Foot, whig congress-
man 1843–7, and republican United States senator
1857–66; Hiland Hall, whig congressman 1831–43,
and state judge 1846–50; Matthew Lyon, demo-
cratic congressman 1797–1801, afterward from
Kentucky, 1803–11, most noted for his rough-and-
tumble fight on the floor of the house in January,
1798, with Roger Griswold, a Connecticut federal-
ist, and for his trial and imprisonment later in the
year, under the sedition law; George P. Marsh,
whig congressman 1843–9, and minister to Italy
1861–82; Justin S. Morrill, republican congress-
man 1855–67, and United States senator 1867–85;
Samuel S. Phelps, state judge 1831–8, and whig
United States senator 1839–51 and 1853–4; Luke
P. Poland, state judge 1848–65, republican United
States senator 1865–7, and congressman (867–75;
Samuel Prentiss, whig United States senator
1831–42, and federal district judge 1842–57; Will-
iam Slade, whig congressman 1831–43, and gov-
ernor 1844–6; and Isaac Tichenor one of the lead-
ers of the original independent government, state
judge 1791–6, federalist United States senator
1796–7 and 1815–21, and governor 1797–1807 and
1808–9.-The name Vermont, equivalent to Green
Mountain, seems to have been suggested in 1777 by
Dr. Thomas Young, of Philadelphia, to the lead-
ers of the infant republic of “new Connecticut,”
and at once adopted.— See 2 Poore's Federal and
State Constitutions; 2 Hough's American Constitu-
tions; 4 Documentary History of New York, 329 (cor-
respondence between New York and New Hamp-
shire); Chipman's Life of Seth Warner; 1 Sparks’
American Biography (life of Ethan Allen); Slade's
Wermont State Papers; Chase's Early History of
Vermont; Hiland Hall’s History of Vermont (to
1791); Allen's History of Vermont (1798); B. H.
Hall's History of Eastern Vermont (to 1800); Will-
iams’ History of Vermont (to 1807); Beckley’s His-
tory of Vermont (1846); Carpenter's History of Ver-
mont (to 1852); Thompson's History of Vermont
(with supplement, 1853); Walton's Vermont Reg-
ŻSte?’. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
1064
VETO.
WETO (IN U. S. HISTORY). I. BEFORE THE
CoNSTITUTION. The power in the executive to
apply some check to the absolute power of the
legislative, is an evident necessity in a national
government. Franklin long ago noted that abso-
lute power, if it must be granted at all, had better
be granted to the executive than to the legislative.
“A single man may be afraid or ashamed of doing
injustice; a body is never either one or the other,
if it is strong enough. It can not apprehend as-
sassination, and by dividing the shame among
them, it is so little apiece that no one minds it.”
The only question is whether the executive should
possess a power of absolute, final prohibition of
legislation, or a qualified and limited check. The
veto, ‘‘I forbid,” of the Roman tribunes, was abso-
lute; the American veto is qualified. — By the
theory of the British constitution the crown has
an absolute veto on all legislation; no bill can be-
come a law without the royal signature. Since
1692 the power has never been exercised, and its
exercise now would probably provoke a revolu-
tion. Instead of it, an adverse vote of the house
of lords has been used as a sort of veto upon the
action of the house of commons; but its exercise,
in matters on which the commons are obstinately
bent, is now qualified by the tacit understanding,
that “it is well enough once, by way of a joke,
but it must not be repeated.” Sometimes the way
toward the final capitulation of the lords is
smoothed by admitting unimportant amendments;
sometimes a small majority is swamped by the
creation of new peers. In 1871, when the lords ob-
stimately resisted the bill for the abolition of the
purchase of military commissions, the Gladstone
ministry took the unusual step of putting the
principle of the bill in force by royal warrant, as
an act of prerogative. The lords, thus pressed,
passed the bill with a spiteful vote of censure on
the ministry.
is a very limited one. —But in the colonies, before
the American revolution, the veto power of the
crown was enforced with double rigor. In Con-
necticut and Rhode Island the governors were
chosen by the colonies, and had no veto power.
In other colonies the governor, whether appointed |
by proprietors or by the crown, had an absolute
veto on the colonial legislature; and the crown
had an absolute veto on the action of the governor
and legislature. The veto was constantly used by
governors to extort money or favors. In Penn-
sylvania, says Franklin, “it became at last the
regular practice to have Orders on the treasury in
his favor presented along with the bills to be
signed, so that he might actually receive the for-
mer before he should sign the latter.” In many of
the colonies, as in South Carolina, the persistent
veto of the governor led to his expulsion before
hostilities fairly broke out. In others, as in Vir-
ginia, the persistent veto of acts to check the
slave trade formed one of the most prominent of
revolutionary grievances. All of them agreed,
in the declaration of independence, on the follow-
ing, as the first of the reasons for a separation:
In any event, the veto of the lords
been altered after its first introduction.
“He has refused his assent to laws the most whole-
some and necessary for the public good; he has
forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate
and pressing importance, unless suspended in
their operation till his assent should be obtained,
and when so suspended he has utterly neglected
to attend to them; he has refused to pass other
laws for the accommodation of large districts of
people, unless those people would relinquish the
right of representation in the legislature, a right
inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants
only; he has called together legislative bodies at
places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from
the depository of their public records, for the sole
purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with
his measures; he has dissolved representative
houses repeatedly, for opposing, with manly firm-
ness, his invasions on the rights of the people; he
has obstructed the administration of justice, by
refusing his assent to laws for establishing judi-
ciary powers.” With such an experience of the
veto power it is not strange that only one of the
original state constitutions (Massachusetts, in 1780)
gave its governor even a qualified veto power,
and that in the articles of confederation there was
no executive veto. Indeed, the articles went to
the other extreme. By requiring the assent of
nine states to important acts of legislation, they
really gave an absolute veto to any minority of
five states; and, by requiring the assent of every
state to amendments, they gave a veto power to
each state. In these respects they more resembled
the constitution of the Polish diet, with its liberum,
weto, its power reserved to each member to veto
absolutely any bill introduced into the house.
Nullification (see that title) was a subsequent effort
to revive and strengthen this state veto, in the in-
terest of slavery and a section. —II. IN THE FED.
ERAL CONVENTION. The introduction of an ex-
ecutive power into the new scheme of govern-
ment necessarily brought with it a veto power.
Randolph’s “Virginia plan” gave the veto power
to the executive ‘‘and a convenient number of
the national judiciary,” to be final, unless over-
ridden ‘‘ by — of the members of each branch.”
Pinckney’s plan contains a veto provision so like
that which was finally adopted that it must have
The
“Jersey plan,” as it had no executive, had no veto
provision. June 4, Gerry proposed as a substitute
for Randolph's veto provision, “that the national
executive shall have a right to negative any legis-
lative act which shall not afterward be passed by
— parts of each branch of the national legisla-
ture.” Hamilton moved to strike out the last
fifteen words, so as to make the negative absolute;
this was rejected unanimously. Butler moved
that the executive have power to suspend any law
for days; and this was rejected unanimously.
The blank in Gerry's motion was then filled by
“two-thirds”; and the whole was adopted by a
vote of eight states to two. In this form it was
reported from the committee, June 19; was sent
to the committee of revision July 26, and re-
VETO.
1065
ported by them almost in its final shape, ex-
cept that the time for retaining bills was “seven
days,” instead of “ten days, Sundays except-
•ed,” and that it applied only to bills, and not
to joint resolutions, orders and votes also, as
the final revision made. Aug. 15, “two-thirds”
was changed to “three-fourths,” by a vote of
six states to four, and one divided ; but the
echange was reconsidered and reversed, Sept. 12,
ºby an exactly similar vote. The whole was then
made a part of article I., seetion 7. (See Constr-
‘TUTION.)— But during these deliberations other
questions had been under consideration. Ran-
dolph's plan of uniting the judiciary with the
president, as a “council of revision,” was again
offered by Wilson, June 6 and July 21, and voted
down. Aug. 15, Madison proposed to give the
veto power to either the president or a majority
of the Supreme court judges, to be overridden by
two-thirds of each house, if either the president
or the court should veto a bill, or by three-fourths
of each house, if both should veto it; but this was
also rejected, and this plan was dropped. Another
provision, that of a veto upon the state legislatures,
was warmly urged from first to last. The sixth
resolution of the “Virginia plan" gave Congress
power “to negative all laws passed by the several
! states contravening, in the opinion of the national
legislature, the articles of union, or any treaty
subsisting under the authority of the Union, and
to call forth the force of the Union against any
member of the Union failing to fulfill its duty
under the articles thereof.”; but, by the eighth
resolution, the council of revision was to have a
veto on the congressional veto, unless the latter
should be repeated by the requisite majority.
May 31, the first part of the scheme was agreed
...to, ‘‘ without debate or dissent.” Madison, June
8, wished to extend the national veto to inadvisa-
ble as well as unconstitutional laws. He ‘‘ could
not but regard an indefinite power to negative
legislative acts of the states as absolutely necessary
to a perfect system. Experience had evinced a
constant tendency in the states to encroach on the
federal authority. A negative was the mildest”
expedient that could be devised for preventing
these mischiefs. The existence of such a check
would prevent attempts to commit them.” This
extension of the veto was voted down, three states
to seven, and one divided. The original provis-
ion of the sixth resolution was retained in the re-
port of the committee of the whole, June 13.
July 17, the veto on state laws came up for con-
sideration, and Madison again urged it strongly.
Gouverneur Morris “was more and more opposed
to it. It would disgust all the states, and a law
that ought to be negatived will be set aside in the
judiciary department.” This excellent suggestion
was at once heeded. The exceedingly dangerous
veto power over state laws was dropped forever,
and instead of it the “Supreme law clause ’’ of
the constitution was adopted. Under this, the
federal judiciary has exercised, with little notice
or danger, a veto power over state laws which
congress could hardly have attempted without
civil war. (See JUDICIARY.) Aug. 23, after the
senate had been made a part of the constitution,
Charles Pinckney moved that power be given
to two-thirds of each house to negative state laws;
but six states to five refused to send the proposi-
tion to the committee. In a single case, that of
state impost laws, a power of “revision and con-
trol” was reserved to congress, Sept. 15. (See
INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTs.) — Hamilton's plan,
as read June 18, and still more as finally elaborated
for preservation by Madison, would have made
the executive veto power a tremendous instru-
ment. It provided that “the governor or presi-
dent of each state shall be appointed under the
authority of the United States, and shall have a
right to negative all laws about to be passed in
the state of which he shall be governor or presi-
dent, subject to such qualifications as the legisla-
ture of the United States shall prescribe’’; and
that “no bill, resolution or act of the [national]
senate and assembly shall have the force of a law
until it shall have received the assent of the pres-
ident, or of the vice-president when exercising the
powers of the president; and if such assent shall
not have been given within ten days after such
bill, resolution or other act shall have been pre-
sented to him for that purpose, the same shall not
be a law; and no bill, resolution or other act, not
assented to, shall be revived in the same session
of the legislature.” This proposition was never
formally offered, and could never have been
passed ; but it is an instructive example of a
“high-toned government,” according to federalist
ideas. – As finally adopted, the veto provision
gives the president power to return, with his ob-
jections, to the house in which it originated, any
bill or joint order, resolution or vote, of the two
houses. If the vetoed bill is then passed again by
two-thirds of each house, it becomes a law ; if
not, it is a nullity. If the president does not re-
turn the bill, with objections, within ten days
(Sundays excepted), it becomes a law, unless con-
gress adjourns within the ten days, in which case it
shall not be a law. This last stipulation gives the
president an absolute veto on all bills, etc., passed
during the last ten days of a session of congress;
he has only to retain them, as it were, in his
pocket, and they are a nullity, even though nine-
tenths of both houses should desire to pass them
over the veto. This potent executive weapon,
angrily called a “pocket veto ” at the time, was
first employed by Jackson at the close of the
session of 1829–30. He had vetoed the Maysville
road bill (see INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTs), but
many of his supporters in congress were in favor
of internal improvements, and he chose to employ
the pocket veto on two similar bills passed after-
ward. When, in 1833, he disposed of Clay's dis-
tribution bill in the same manner, the whigs
evolved the ingenious theory that the “adjourn-
ment” mentioned in the constitution, which made
a pocket veto possible, meant only a voluntary
adjournment by congress; that the close of a two-
1066
VETO.
years term of service was not an adjournment in
this sense, since the constitution, not congress,
prevented the return of bills; and that bills re-
tained by the president at the end of a congress
became law without his signature. This notion
was never vigorously pressed, however. Evident-
ly, it would put the president at the mercy of a
mere majority in congress, which would only need
to time the final passage of a bill so late on March
3 of their last year as to make it physically im-
possible for the president to use his veto power. —
It has also been questioned whether the “two-
thirds of each house,” requisite to pass bills over
the veto, is two-thirds of the number elected, or
of the number present. The latter was undoubt-
edly the intention; for the constitution provides
that a majority of each house shall be a quorum
to do business, and refers repeatedly to this quo-
rum as “a house.” In but one case, the power
of the senate to advise and consent to treaties,
does it use expressly the words “two-thirds of the
senators present”; but the treaty power is rather
executive than legislative, and this provision can
hardly have any bearing on the plain intent of the
constitution in matters of simple legislation. —
The American veto system seems to have struck
the safest middle line, and attempts to modify it
elsewhere have generally proved injurious. The
French constitution of 1789 gave the king a veto
power, with a provision that the passage of a law
three years in succession should override the veto;
but this was a failure, for the impatience of the
people could not wait three years for a compliance
with their will. The Mexican constitution of 1824,
in addition to the presidential veto of the United
States, gave each house a qualified veto on the
other, as follows: if a bill, passed by one house
and rejected by the other, should again be passed
by the first house by a two-thirds vote, it could
only be rejected by a two-thirds vote of the other
house. But this had only its natural effect of
hurrying on a revolution by a powerless majority.
One modification, the power to veto single clauses,
given by the confederate constitution of 1861,
fairly deserves consideration. (See RIDERs, I.)
— III. UNDER THE CONSTITUTION. The first exer-
cise of the veto power was by Washington, April 5,
1792. (See APPORTIONMENT.) Until 1830 there
were but nine vetoes, two by Washington, none
by Adams or Jefferson, six by Madison, and one
by Monroe. The most important of these were
Madison’s veto of the bill to establish a United
States bank, Jan. 30, 1815 (see BANK CONTRO-
VERSIES, III.), his veto of the internal improve-
ment bill, March 3, 1817, and Monroe's Cumber-
land road veto, May 4, 1822. (See INTERNAL
IMPROVEMENTS, II.) Jackson vetoed nine bills,
including Clay’s distribution bill, which he for-
mally vetoed, Dec. 5, 1833, after giving it a pocket
veto at the preceding session. Most of these vetoes
were put on internal improvement bills; but one,
July 10, 1832, was upon a new United States bank
bill, and another, June 10, 1836, was upon a bill
fixing a day for the meeting of congress. This fre-
quent use of the veto power by Jackson furnished.
the bond which united a great number of elements.
into the whig party, and gave it a name. (See
WHIG PARTY, II.) The whig animosity to the
veto power was revived by its exercise during Ty-
ler's administration. He vetoed two United States.
bank bills, Aug. 16 and Sept. 9, 1841 (see BANK
CONTROVERSIES, IV.); two tariff bills, June 29
and Aug. 9, 1842; a bill for harbor improvements
in eastern states, June 11, 1844; and a bill for
building two revenue cutters, Feb. 20, 1845, on
account of ambiguity in the language. Polk
vetoed two bills, a river and harbor bill, Aug. 3,
1846, and a bill for the settlement of French spo-
liation claims, Aug. 8, 1846; but an internal im-
provement bill, passed March 3, 1847, which had
been disposed of by a pocket veto, was formally
vetoed at the following session, Dec. 15, 1847.
Pierce used the veto nine times, on a bill appro-
priating lands for insane poor, May 3, 1854; an
internal improvement bill, Aug. 4, 1854; a French
spoliation claims bill, Feb. 17, 1855; an appropri-
ation for the Collins ocean mail steamers, March 3,
1855; two special internal improvement bills, May
19, 1856, another May 22, and two others, Aug.
11 and Aug. 14. Buchanan vetoed a homestead
bill, June 22, 1860, in which the price of lands . .
had been reduced by southern senators to so low
a figure (25 cents an acre) as to provoke a veto.
Lincoln regularly stated any minor objections.
which he held to any bill in the message approving
it; and congress usually obviated the objections.
by supplementary legislation. June 23, 1862, he
vetoed a bill to allow the circulation of bank notes.
of less than $5 value in the District of Columbia.
July 12, 1862, while approving a confiscation bill,
he transmitted a veto message already prepared,
the necessity for which had been removed by a
subsequent explanatory resolution of congress.
Up to this time the veto power on legislation had
been final, since the two-thirds majority necessary
to override it had not been obtained. — The ac-
cession of Andrew Johnson, a southern democrat,
to the presidency, with a congress in which the
fepublicans had a strong majority, but would not
have a two-fhirds majority if all the insurrection-
ary states should be allowed to send democrats.
to the senate and house of representatives, made
a conflict inevitable. Congress was determined
to secure, while it had the power to secure, the
right of negroes to suffrage; and the president was
as determined to obstruct reconstruction, unless
the southern delegations were admitted at once,
when the republican two-thirds majority would
be at an end, the veto would be as potent as it had
always been, and the president could control the
course of reconstruction. From February, 1866,
until March, 1869, there was an almost continuous
storm of vetoes, most of them upon reconstruc-
tion bills, or bills extending the principles of
negro suffrage in various directions. During
1866 there were the vetoes of the first freedman's.
bureau bill, Feb. 19; of the civil rights bill, March
27; of the Colorado bill, May 15; and of the Sec-
VIRGINIA.
1067
ond freedmen's bureau bill, July 16; and, on the
adoption of the 14th amendment, a message was
sent to congress, June 22, suggesting that there
were “grave doubts” as to the power of congress
to frame an amendment while eleven states were
refused representation. In 1867 there were the ve-
toes of the bill regulating suffrage in the District
of Columbia, Jan. 5; of the second Colorado bill,
Jan. 29; of the Nebraska bill, Jan. 30; of the tenure
of office bill, March 2; of the reconstruction bill,
March 2; and of the supplementary reconstruction
bills of March 23 and July 19. In 1868 there
were the vetoes of the bill regulating appeals on
habeas corpus, March 25; of the bills for the re-
admission of Arkansas, June 20, and North Caro-
lina, South Carolina, Florida, Georgia, Alabama
and Louisiana, June 25; and of the joint resolu-
tion denying validity to the electoral votes of un-
reconstructed states. (See, for further particulars,
RECONSTRUCTION, and titles of bills mentioned.)
Many other bills, which the president neither
wished to sign nor cared to veto, were left ten
days, and became law without his signature.
Congress left him little opportunity for “pocket
vetoes,” but on his retirement from office, March
3, 1869, he had such an opportunity, and used it,
in the case of three bills, which were immediately
afterward passed again, and signed by President
Grant. — President Grant's two vetoes were those
upon the bill to increase the amount of “green-
backs” to $400,000,000, and to authorize the is-
sue of $46,000,000 in national bank notes, April
22, 1874, and the bill to repeal the increase of the
president’s salary to $50,000, April 19, 1876.
Various circumstances made President Hayes’
term of office more prolific in vetoes. In addi-
tion to a distinct group of vetoes (see RIDERS,
II.), were those upon the bill to authorize the
coinage of silver dollars, February 28, 1878; the
bill to restrict Chinese immigration, March 1,
1879; and the bill to fund $700,000,000 of the
national debt at 3 per cent., March 3, 1881.
President Arthur vetoed a bill to restrict Chi-
nese immigration, also a river and harbor bill of
about $20,000,000, in 1882. –IV. IN THE STATEs.
Four of the states, Delaware, North Carolina,
Ohio and Rhode Island, have never given their
governors the veto power. In eight others a very
limited veto power has been given, which may
be overridden by a majority of the whole number
elected to each house. These are as follows, the
year in which the veto was granted being added:
Alabama, 1819; Arkansas, 1836; Connecticut,
1818; Indiana, 1816; Kentucky, 1799; New Jer-
sey, 1844; Vermont, 1836; West Virginia, 1872.
In twenty-four others, a two-thirds vote is re-
quired to override the veto : California, 1849;
Colorado, 1876; Florida, 1865; Georgia, 1789;
Illinois, 1870; Iowa, 1846; Kansas, 1859; Louis-
iana, 1812; Maine, 1820; Massachusetts, 1780;
Michigan, 1835; Minnesota, 1857; Mississippi,
1817; Missouri, 1875; Nevada, 1864; New Hamp-
shire, 1792; New York, 1821; Oregon, 1857;
Pennsylvania, 1790; South Carolina, 1865; Ten-
nessee, 1870; Texas, 1836 (republic), 1845 (state);
Virginia, 1870; Wisconsin, 1848. In Maryland
(1867) and Nebraska (1875) a three-fifths vote is
requisite. But one state, Kentucky, has changed
from a two-thirds vote (1792) to a majority vote
(1799). The following states, now requiring a
two-thirds vote, as above, required only a ma-
jority vote at first: Florida, 1838; Illinois, 1848;
Missouri, 1820. Connecticut, Maryland, South
Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia and West Vir-
ginia were without the veto power until it was.
granted in the years mentioned above. In Ne-
braska a two-thirds vote only was needed from
1866 until 1875. In Illinois, 1818–48, the veto.
power was given to the governor and Supreme
court judges, to be reversed by a majority vote;
and in New York, 1777–1821, to the governor,
chancellor and supreme court judges, to be re-
versed by a two-thirds vote. In Vermont, 1786–
1836, a suspensory power until the following ses-
sion was given to the governor and council. In
the states the tendency generally has been to in-
crease the strength of the veto power by making
the votes of two-thirds of all the members elected
requisite to override it, and, further, by giving
the power to veto single sections of appropriation
bills. (See RIDERs, III.) — The veto messages.
until 1858 are in the Statesman’s Manual ; since.
that time they must be sought under their dates in
the Congressional Globe and Congressional Record.
See also 4 Franklin's Works, 283 ; 4 Elliot's De-
bates, 620; 5 ib., 108, 130, 151, 190, 205, 385, 534,
560, 588–9; 2 Curtis’ History of the Constitution,
57, 264; 4 Whig Review, 325; 9 ib., 16; 10 ib., 111;
14 Benton's Debates of Congress, 494; 3 Webster's
Works, 416; 1 ib., 267; 1 Colton's Life and Times
of Clay, 496; 1 Kent's Commentaries, 226; Feder-
alist, L.I., LXXIII.; Story’s Commentaries, $878,
and note to $1566 (Madison's letter of June 25,
1831, on the veto); Poore's Federal and State Con-
Stitutions. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WICE-PRESIDENT. (See ExECUTIVE, W.;
ELECTORS ; SENATE ; ADMINISTRATIONS.)
WIRGINIA, one of the thirteen original states.
of the American Union. Its area formed part of
a general grant of James I., April 10, 1606, to
two companies, controlled by a general Council
appointed by the king, the whole grant covering
the Atlantic coast from north latitude 34° to north
latitude 45°. The special grant to the “London.
company,” with which we have to do, included
the mainland and islands between latitude 34°
and latitude 41°, or from about Cape Fear to
Long Island sound; and the special grant to the
“Plymouth company ” extended from latitude
38° to latitude 45°, or from the mouth of the Po-
tomac to the northern boundary of Vermont.
Between latitude 38° and latitude 41°, where the
grants conflicted, neither company was to plant a
colony within 100 miles of a colony previously
planted by the other. Under this grant settle-
ment was begun at Jamestown, May 13, 1607.
1068
VIRGINIA.
May 23, 1609, a supplementary charter defined
the limits of the colony, as stated below. March
12, 1611–12, a further charter gave power to con-
vene a colonial assembly, or “great and general
court,” with power to legislate, provided the laws
were not contrary to the laws and statutes of
England; and under this charter the first legisla-
tive assembly in America met at Jamestown, June
:30, 1619, being composed of a council named by
the company, and a house of burgesses (see AS-
sEMBLY) elected by the towns. In 1624 the com-
pany was suppressed by a writ of quo warranto,
its powers were assumed by the king, and Vir-
ginia remained a royal province until 1776. Dur-
iing the commonwealth period, it remained loyal
to the crown, and for three years after the death
of Charles I. his son was acknowledged as king
of Virginia, so that at the restoration this colony
claimed to be the new king’s “Old Dominion.”
Its loyalty availed it little. A charter was refused
it; the quit rents and the control of the church of
England, its established church, were lavished
upon court favorites; and in 1676 the tyranny of
“Gov. Berkeley drove the colonists into a rebell-
ion, headed by Nathaniel Bacon, which was sup-
pressed with vindictive punishment. “The old
fool [Berkeley],” said Charles, “ has taken away
more lives in that naked country, than I for the
murder of my father.” With the exception of
this episode, the colony grew quietly, but strong-
ly, into a populous, rich, slaveholding, Episcopa-
lian commonwealth, with a strong desire for self-
government; and at the outbreak of the American
revolution it was unquestionably the leading state.
Its lower house was dissolved by Gov. Dunmore,
May 25, 1775, while preparing a protest against
the Boston port bill; but the members met the
inext day and inaugurated the revolution by pro-
posing a congress. (See CoNGRESS, CONTINENT-
AL.) In the following year, May 6, they again
Imet as usual; but, as the governor had run away,
and the regular government was suspended, they
organized as a “provincial congress,” and framed
the first constitution of the state of Virginia. —
BOUNDARIES. The charter of 1609 defined the
colony’s limits thus : from point Comfort, all
along the Seacoast to the northward 200 miles,
and all along the Seacoast to the southward 200
miles, ‘‘ and all that space and circuit of land
lying from the Seacoast of the precinct aforesaid,
up into the land throughout from sea to sea, west
and northwest.” The boundary lines were evi-
dently not to be parallel lines: one was to be a
westward line, and the other northwesterly. If
the new colony was to have any limits whatever
on the West it would seem most natural that the
northerly boundary should be the westward line,
and the Southerly boundary the northwestward
line, to intersect it. Virginia would thus have
been a comparatively small colony, of a triangu-
lar shape. But the colony, resting on the words
“from Sea to sea,” and interpreting them to mean
“from the Atlantic to the Pacific,” instead of
from the Atlantic around the compound bound-
ary line to the Atlantic again, made the southern
boundary the westward line, and the northern
boundary the northwestward line, thus making
her territory grow constantly wider as it went
westward. She was compelled, indeed, to yield
to the royal prerogative of taking back presents,
and her 200-mile limits were interfered with on
the south by the grant of Carolina (see North
CAROLINA), and on the north by the grant of
Pennsylvania and Maryland. (See those states.)
To these encroachments she submitted patiently,
conscious that her charter, as she interpreted it,
contained an abundant reward for her patience.
A line drawn northwest from the western bound-
ary of Maryland will show the extent of Vir-
ginia's claims to the western part of Pennsylvania,
and to the whole territory northwest of the Ohio:
indeed, her “northwest line” might have stretched
on and included Alaska, but for the subsequent
(1762) fixing of the Mississippi as the western
boundary of the colonies. Her claims to the
northwestern territory were finally abandoned.
(See TERRITORIES.) Her Pennsylvania boundary
was finally arranged by mutual consent in 1780,
by continuing Mason and Dixon's line five degrees
to the west, and thence due north, thus giving
Virginia the ‘‘pan-handle” in the northwest.
For her boundaries with North Carolina, Tennes-
see, Kentucky, West Virginia and Maryland, see
those states. – Constitutions. 1. The provin-
cial congress, June 12, 1776, adopted a bill of
rights, which has been retained in subsequent
constitutions, but modified in 1867. Its most im-
portant sections were the third, which declared
the right of the people to alter, reform or abolish
their government at their own will; and the four-
teenth, that no government separate from or inde-
pendent of the government of Virginia should be
erected or established within the limits thereof.
The two were in effect a declaration of independ-
ence. (See STATE SovieREIGNTY.) June 29, the
first state constitution was adopted, without a
reference to popular vote. It provided for a gen-
eral assembly, consisting of a senate of twenty-
four members, chosen by districts, to serve four
years, and a house of delegates (see ASSEMBLY),
chosen by counties and towns, to serve one year;
for a governor and council of eight, chosen annu-
ally by joint ballot of the two houses; and for a
judiciary, to be appointed by the legislature dur-
ing good behavior. This constitution remained
in force for half a century, until the growth of
the western part of the state, and its unfairly
small representation in the legislature, compelled
a general revision. 2. A new constitution was
framed by a convention at Richmond, Oct. 5,
1829–Jan. 15, 1830, and ratified by a popular vote
of 26,055 to 15,563. It fixed the number of the
house of delegates at 134, 31 to the twenty-six
counties west of the Alleghanies, 25 to the fourteen
counties between the Alleghanies and the Blue.
Ridge, 42 to the twenty-nine counties between the
Blue Ridge and tide water, and 36 to the counties,
cities, towns and boroughs on tide water; and the
VIRGINIA.
1069)
number of the senate at 32, thirteen of the dis-
tricts being west and nineteen east of the Blue
Ridge. The proportional representation of the
great divisions was not to be changed by the legis-
lature. The governor was now to hold office for
three years, and the judges were to be removable
by a two-thirds vote of both houses. 3. A new
constitution was framed by a convention at Rich-
mond, Oct. 14, 1850 – Aug. 1, 1851, and ratified
by a popular vote of 67,562 to 9,938. Its princi-
pal changes were, that the governor was to be,
elected by the people for four years; the judiciary
was to be elected by popular vote for terms of
twelve and eight years, and removable by a vote
of a majority of the members elected to both
houses; the number of the house of delegates was
fixed at 152, chosen for two years, and appor-
tioned among the counties, and the number of
senators at 50, chosen by districts for four years;
and, in default of the adoption of an equitable
principle of apportionment by the legislature, a
very complicated scheme was drawn up for re-
apportionment in 1865, which the course of events
overruled. The principle of an obsolete statute
of 1805 in regard to slavery was thus transferred
to the new constitution : “Slaves hereafter eman-
cipated shall forfeit their freedom by remaining in
the commonwealth more than twelve months after
they become actually free, and shall be reduced
to slavery under such regulation as may be pre-
scribed by law”; and “The general assembly may
impose such restrictions and conditions as they
shall deem proper on the power of slave owners to
emancipate their slaves.” 4. After the separation
of West Virginia (see that title), the state govern-
ment which had consented to it was transferred to
Alexandria, where a convention from the counties
within the federal lines, Feb. 13 – April 7, 1864,
framed a new constitution, which was not submit-
ted to popular vote. It abolished slavery, fixed
the number of the house at not less than 80 nor
more than 104, to serve two years, and the number
of the senate at not less than one-fourth nor more
than one-third the number of the house; and dis-
franchised those who had held office under the
confederate government, or been members of the
confederate congress or of rebellious legislatures.
5. The fifth constitution was framed by a conven-
tion at Richmond, Dec. 3, 1867 – April 17, 1868.
It added four new clauses to the original bill of
rights, providing that the state should ever remain
a member of the United States of America; that
the people thereof are part of the American natiori;
that their paramount allegiance is due to the con-
stitution of the United States and laws of congress
passed in pursuance thereof; that slavery shall
never exist in the state; and that all its citizens
have equal civil and political rights and public
privileges. It gave the right of suffrage to “male
citizens” over twenty-one on twelve months’ resi-
dence in the state; made disfranchisement a pen-
alty for dueling; gave the veto power to the gov-
ernor, and the election of judges to the legislature;
and regulated the government of cities. The con-
stitution was ratified by a popular vote of 210,585,
to 9,136, July 6, 1869. At the same election the
disfranchisement clauses, which had, caused the
long delay in ratification, and which were sub-
mitted to separate vote under an act of congress of
April 10, 1869, were rejected. In 1876 an amend-
ment was adopted requiring the payment of a cap.
itation tax before voting, disfranchising for petit.
larceny, and empowering the legislature to remove.
dueling disabilities by a two-thirds vote. The cap-
itation tax was subsequently abolished by another
amendment.— GOVERNORS. Patrick Henry, 1776,
–9; Thos. Jefferson, 1779–81; Thos. Nelson, 1781;
Benjamin Harrison, 1781-4; Patrick]:Ienry, 1784–6;
Edmund Randolph, 1786–8; Beverley Randolph,
1788–91; Henry Lee, 1791–4; Robert Brooke,
1794–6; James Wood, 1796–9; James Monroe,
1799–1802; John Page, 1802–5; Wm. H. Cabell,
1805–8; John Tyler, 1808–11; James Monroe,
1811; George W. Smith, 1811–12; James Barbour,
1812–14; Wilson C. Nicholas, 1814–16; James P.
Preston, 1816–19; Thos. Mann Randolph, 1819–22;
James Pleasant, 1822–5; John Tyler, 1825–7; Will-
iam B. Giles, 1827–30; John Floyd, 1830–34; J.it-
tleton W. Tazewell, 1834–6; Windham Robertson,
1836–7; David Campbell, 1837–40; Thos. W. Gil-
mer, 1840–41; John, Rutherford, 1841–2; John M.
Gregory, 1842–3; James McDowell, 1843–6; Wm.
Smith, 1846–9; John B. Floyd, 1849–52; Joseph
Johnson, 1852–6; Henry A. Wise; 1856–60; John
Letcher, 1860–64; William Smith, 1864–5; Francis
H. Pierpont, 1865–8; Henry H. Wills, 1868–70;.
Gilbert C. Walker, 1870–74; James L. Kemper,
1874–8; F. W. M. Holladay, 1878–82; Wm. E.
Cameron, 1882–6. — POLITICAL HISTORY. For
the century succeeding the opening of the conflict
with the mother country, 1760–1860, the whole.
policy of Virginia is expressed in the declaration
of her bill of rights, “that no government sepa-
rate from or independent of the government of
Virginia should be erected or established within
the limits thereof.” Under the colonial system the
resistance to encroachment was directed against
the king’s governors, and under the constitution
against the federal government; and the only
period during which the Virginia policy ever had
full and free play was, that of the confederation,
and the few years of loose alliance that preceded
it, 1775–89. Size, population, wealth and concur-
rence of sentiment among leading men made Vir-
ginia the great exponent of “state Sovereignty.”
(See that title.) For such a rôle her colonial his-
tory went far to prepare her. The character of
her immigration, its sympathy in blood, breeding
and prejudices with the English royalist party of
1620–80, and the final impress given to the mould
by the establishment of a state church, were all
calculated to make Virginians fully conscious of
their own importance, and ready to maintain their
individual opinions. Further, the necessarily
backwoods character of Virginia life, the absence
of any such object of loyalty as a personally pres-
ent king, and the introduction of negro slavery,
tended to exaggerate in the Virginian the personal
1070
VIRGINIA.
characteristics of his English prototype, while it
took away the checks which had operated upon
the latter; and the English royalist was metamor-
phosed into the Virginia democrat. Virginia dem-
ocracy was thus not based on any Calvinistic view
of the universal equality of men in their infinite
inferiority to their Maker; nor in any theoretical
love for humanity: it was rather a general agree-
ment by all white Virginians to recognize one
another's feeling of individual importance, and to
support the state government under which that
feeling found the safest shelter. John Randolph's
exclusive application of the expression “my coun-
try” to Virginia, only voiced the conscious or un-
conscious feeling of all Virginia democrats. – The
political history of the state until 1881 was there-
fore that of the democratic party. Its electoral
votes and its state government were steadily of
one party, and only an occasional congressman
among the opposition varied the general rule. The
state's ratification of the constitution in 1788 was
only accomplished by a meagre majority of ten
votes (see CoNSTITUTION, II.); and it is safe to say
that the majority was only obtained by a sense of
the insecurity of Virginia's title to western lands
if a general scramble for the territories should be
brought on by a failure to Organize national govern-
ment. (See TERRITORIES.) The inauguration of
the new government marked Virginia's impor-
tance. Washington’s presidency was due only to
himself: the positions of Jefferson and Randolphin
the cabinet, and of Madison as leader in the house,
were due to Virginia's leadership among the states.
There was thus developed at once the seed of what
soon came to be known as the “Virginia influence,”
hard to define exactly, and yet very apparent in
the politics of the time. Throughout the control-
ling tide-water counties of the state, where gen-
ealogy was a science held in the highest esteem,
where immigration had almost ceased to bring
new and confusing strains of blood into the estab-
lished stocks, and where exhaustion of tobacco
lands had not yet begun to banish the old fami-
lies, nearly every leading man was related more
or less distantly to most of his competitors; the
different congeries of families were just far enough
removed to deaden any ambitious struggles for
clan supremacy; the opinions of Jefferson, Madi-
son, Monroe, Page, Giles, Bland, Taylor, Taze-
well, the Nicholases, the Randolphs, and other
democratic leaders, came to subordinate leaders
with the force of family as well as political sym-
pathy; and the whole formed the shadowy but
powerful “Virginia influence,” which made or
destroyed presidents until 1825. From the begin-
ning of Hamilton's centralizing policy (see FED-
ERAL PARTY, I.), the Virginia influence stood
stiffly against it, and thus became the corner-stone
of the new democratic party. From Virginia
proceeded most of the efforts which gradually
gave the new party control of the south and a
“fighting chance” in the middle states. When
federalist partisanship in 1798 threatened what
Hamilton considered “a tyranny,” the half-uttered
counter-threat of forcible resistance came from
Virginia and her daughter, Kentucky. (See KEN-
TUCKY RESOLUTIONs.) When the federal party
was finally overthrown, in 1800–1, Virginia and
New York took the same places in the dominant
democratic party that Virginia and Massachusetts
had held in the revolutionary struggle. The for-
mer state was still able, from its pre-eminence in
the country and party, to name the president,
while the vice-president was generally given to
the latter. The “Old Dominion * of colonial
times thus became the “Mother of Presidents”
under the constitution. — The Virginia influence
was not altogether undisputed, evenin its own state.
The greatest of Virginians, Washington, was a fed-
eralist, and so were John Marshall, Charles Lee,
Henry Lee, and (after parties had fairly devel-
oped) Patrick Henry. The general prevalence of
the Virginia influence in national affairs after 1800
soon wiped out the last trace of federalism in Vir-
ginia, but at the same time it prepared the way
for a Virginia schism. As the leaders, Jefferson
and Madison, became more absorbed in national
politics, more dependent on northern democrats,
and more neglectful of their state, an ultra Vir-
ginian faction, “republicans of the old school,” or
“quids,” appeared, headed by John Randolph, and
including also Tazewell and John Taylor. Their
public defection took place in March, 1806, and
from that time they spared no effort to secure the
presidency in 1809 for Monroe, a candidate of far
less ability than Madison, but recommended by
his long absence from national politics and his
supposed devotion to his state. But the defection
was a failure. In January, 1808, the Virginia leg-
islature nominated Madison for the presidency,
and the nomination was repeated, two days after-
ward, by the congressional caucus. (See CAUCUS,
CONGRESSIONAL.) A caucus of Monroe members
of the legislature nominated him, and the federal-
ists supported him in the state; but the Monroe
ticket was badly defeated in Virginia, and unheard
of elsewhere. The Virginia influence was thus
still triumphant: Monroe himself submitted in
1811 by entering the cabinet of Madison; and his
former supporters either followed him, or kept up
a filibustering opposition to the war of 1812. —
But the general spread of democratic ideas, and
the decrease of the state's comparative importance,
had already doomed the influence of Virginia. In
1817 it was hardly able to nominate Monroe for
the presidency, and its lame success in that year,
as well as in 1821, was due mainly to the influence
of tradition upon the new men and new states in
politics. Republics are not always ungrateful,
and it was not until the last Virginia leader had
been duly honored that the field was felt to be
fairly open for others. From that time Virginia
was no longer to be the “Mother of Presidents.”
With one accidental exception, the Sceptre was to
be transferred to other states. In 1790 she was
the first of the states in population: in 1830 she
was third, New York and Pennsylvania having
outstripped her. Changes had also been taking
VIRGINIA.
1071
place within the state. The western part of the state
“(now West Virginia) had more than three times as
much population in 1830 as in 1790, while the
eastern part of the state had increased very little;
and yet the apportionment of representation re-
mained fixed as in 1776. The crying need of a
reform in this respect brought about the conven-
tion of 1829, one of the most distinguished assem-
blages of able men that ever met in any state.
"The desire of each section to be well represented
sent to the convention Madison, Monroe, Mar-
shall, John Randolph, Giles, Mercer, Tazewell,
John Taylor, Garnett, Leigh, and all the ablest
men of the state. The object of the delegates of
the western and middle sections was to base repre-
sentation on white population only for both
houses; the eastern delegates wished for the “fed-
eral basis,” including three-fifths of the slaves.
The former plan, as in South Carolina (see that
state) would have given the taxing power to the
western and middle sections, while the east held
the taxable property. At first the convention in-
•clined toward compromising by giving a white
basis of representation to the house, and a federal
basis to the senate; but in the end the eastern del-
•egates succeeded in establishing the artificial ap-
portionment already detailed, which deprived their
section of comparatively little political power.
Slavery had been the secret of the difficulty.
East and west of the Blue Ridge the white popu-
lation was not far from equal; but the latter sec-
tion had comparatively few negroes, while the
blacks outnumbered the whites in the former, and
three-fifths of them counted under the federal
basis, which governed quite closely the apportion-
ment as it was settled. The constitution had
hardly been adopted when Virginia was startled
by an unsuccessful negro insurrection in South-
amption county, near Norfolk, in August, 1831,
under the lead of One Nat Turner. When the
legislature met, the western delegates at once took
the insurrection as a text, and an animated debate
followed for several weeks, in which every plan
for abolition was proposed and advocated. At
last this extraordinary discussion, the only one of
its kind ever held in a southern legislature before
1865, was stified, and never revived. — Until about
1835 democratic control of the state was hardly
disputed: the popular vote for Jackson in 1832
was 75 per cent. of the total vote. During Jack-
son’s Second term the whig party of the state was
developed, and, though it never fully controlled
the state, it was able to give its opponent battle on
even terms for nearly twenty years. It contested
every county of the state : in the eastern part it
gained votes through the desire of many slave-
holders for a system of internal improvements
which should offset the exhaustion of land, and
check emigration; in the western and middle sec-
tions it was aided to some extent by the traditional
opposition to the usually democratic tidewater
counties; and the nullification element, John Tyler
being its best known exponent, gave it some as-
sistance. At first it was strong enough to elect
Tyler and B. W. Leigh to the United States sen-
ate, and to make Gilmer governor; and in 1840 its
presidential electors were defeated by only 1,392
votes out of 86,394. Thereafter it remained an
opposition party, with about 47 per cent. of the
total vote. Its best known leaders were Tyler,
Leigh, John Minor Botts, Preston, Stuart and
Faulkner, those of the democrats being W. C.
Rives, Dromgoole, Mason, Hunter, Bocock, Letch-
er and Wise. After 1849 the whig vote decreased,
and after 1853 most of its former leaders became
democrats. But some, not choosing to take that
course, adopted the “know-nothing” organization
(see AMERICAN PARTY), and contested the state
with about the former whig vote. The propor-
ºtionate popular vote may be seen by the results of
the elections for governor; (1855) Henry A. Wise,
democrat, 83,424, Thos. S. Flournoy, “Ameri-
can,” 73,244; (1859) John Letcher, democrat,
77,112, Wm. L. Goggin, ‘American,” 71,543.
In spite of the large minority vote, the democrats
continued to control the legislature and all but
one or two of the congressmen. — As the sectional
disputes of 1850–60 began to verge evidently to:
ward war, Virginia strove hardest to avert that
calamity. (See BoFDER STATES.) The struggle
for the state's electoral vote in 1860 was won by
the old whig element (see CONSTITUTIONAL UNION
PARTY), the popular vote standing 74,681 for Bell,
74,323 for Breckinridge, 16,290 for Douglas, and
1,929 (in western Virginia) for Lincoln. The spe-
cial session of the legislature in January, 1861,
called a peace convention of all the states (see
CoNGRESS, PEACE); appointed commissioners to
ask the president of the United States and the
governor of South Carolina to keep the peace for
sixty days; and, in calling a state convention, pro-
vided that its action should be submitted to the
people for ratification or rejection. These pacific
measures were due solely to the general dislike of
secession by the people, who knew that in case of
war their state must be the battle ground; and the
real feeling of the state politicians was better
shown by the passage of numerous resolutions of
a covertly warlike nature—appropriating money
to arm the state, and threatening forcible resist-
ance to any attempt by the federal government
to coerce any seceding state. The convention
met Feb. 13, and for two months debated the
various propositions offered. It was so divided
that any resolution asserting the abstract right
of secession was sure of a small majority in favor
of it, while any resolution looking to the prac-
tical exercise of the right was equally sure of a
slight majority against it. April 17, the delib-
erations were brought to a crisis by President
Lincoln's call for troops. (See INSURRECTION.)
Under the excitement of the moment, and the
stimulus of still greater mob excitement in Rich-
mond, an ordinance of secession was passed, by a
vote of 88 to 55, to take effect when ratified by the
people, May 23. But the new order of Virginia
politicians, unsafe guides in any such crisis, had
no great confidence in the popular vote, and pro-
1072
VIRGINIA.
ceeded in a course which no one has ever attempt-
ed to defend on any constitutional theory. The
convention, April 25, ratified the constitution of
the confederate states, and, by its commissioners
and A. H. Stephens, commissioner from the con-
federate states, formed a “temporary convention,”
placing the state's whole military force under the
president of the confederate states. Both meas-
ures were to be void if the popular vote in May
should be against secession; but the irruption of
confederate troops made the election a farce. In
this lawless fashion the secession of Virginia was
accomplished. It was followed by a counter-rev-
olution, which permanently deprived the state of
its western section. (See WEST VIRGINIA.) When
West Virginia had been admitted as a state, its
original revolutionary government was transferred
to Alexandria, where it remained until the close
of the war, claiming to be the government of Vir-
ginia, but receiving obedience only from the coun-
ties within the federal lines. – Throughout the
war, Richmond was the capital of both the state
and the confederacy, and all the political feeling
of the state was concentrated upon the prosecu-
tion of the war, with very little friction between
the two authorities. In May, 1865, President
Johnson refused to recognize Gov. Smith, and the
Pierpoint administration took its place without
dispute, and held it for two years. During this
time the state's idea of reconstruction was fully
carried out; the constitution of 1864, with its pro-
hibition of slavery, was accepted; but the test
oath was abolished, the proposed amendment to
the constitution of the United States was voted
down, and stringent vagrant acts were passed for
the control of the freedmen. In March, 1867, the
state government came under the reconstruction
laws. (See RECONSTRUCTION.) The reconstruc-
tion convention, in framing a new constitution,
disfranchised all persons who had held office of
even the lowest grades under the state or confed-
eracy until 1865, and enforced the disfranchise-
ment by providing for a stringent test oath and
registry law. In a large part of the state it would
thus have been impossible to find qualified office-
holders, and no attempt was made to put the con-
stitution to vote until a new act of congress al-
lowed a separate vote on the objectionable clauses.
They were rejected, and the state was readmitted,
Jan. 26, 1870. — For nearly ten years the state re-
mained democratic in all elections, the dominant
party taking the name “conservative.” The re-
publican vote was at first large, but was continu-
ally in the minority, except in the election of four
of the nine congressmen. In 1874 the democrats
secured eight of the nine congressmen, and there-
after the republican vote was of little importance.
The most troublesome problem for the successive
legislatures was that of the state debt. It amount-
ed, Jan. 1, 1871, to $47 390,840.93, of which about
$37,200,000 was for debt contracted before April,
1861, and for lapsed interest thereon. March 30,
1871, a bill was passed to fund two-thirds of this
amount (leaving one-third as the proportion of
West Virginia) into bonds whose coupons should
be receivable for state taxes. The popular objec:
tions to this seem to have been mainly as foll-
lows: that the receipts from state taxation, at the
rate of fifty cents on $100, were regularly about
$2,500,000 per annum; that the expenses of gov-
ernment and public schools were about $1,600,000;
that the interest. On the funded debt would be.
about $1,800,000; and that the state was absolute-
ly unable to increase the rate of taxation so as to.
make up the deficit. The whole question evi-
dently hinges on this last assertion, whose truth.
can not well be proved or disproved: it is only
certain that no such assertion would have been:
made by the ancient commonwealth. The passage
of the funding bill at once went into politics, and,
the next legislature, March 7, 1872, repealed the
“tax coupon ’’ feature of the law. But, before
the repeal, about $17,000,000 had been funded in
tax coupon bonds, and the state court of appeals.
decided that a repeal as to them would be a breach.
of contract and unconstitutional. Still, the legis-
lature was unable or unwilling to lay taxes suf-
ficient to pay the interest, and the constant receipt
of coupons for taxes kept the treasury in a state.
of chronic bankruptcy. In 1873 an act was passed:
to pay one-third of the interest, after government.
expenses should have been paid—a proviso which,
effectually nullified the law. In 1877 a final effort;
was made to increase revenue by a liquor law
(the Moffett act), which compelled liquor sellers to ,
register sales by means of a mechanical register
upon the counter: but this only produced about
$500,000 annually, insufficient to make up the
deficit. In March, 1878, a bill was passed offering:
to the bondholders refunding bonds with interest.
at 3 per cent. for eighteen years, and 4 per cent.
for thirty-two years thereafter. The probability
of a settlement on some such basis crystallized:
the opposition into a “readjuster” party, led by
William Mahone. It made some little effort in
the election of 1878, though Gov. Holliday, the
debt-paying candidate, was elected by 101,940 out
of a total vote of 106,329. In the following Feb-
ruary the “readjuster movement” took complete
shape, as the final “McCulloch bill’’ was being
perfected. This act, passed March 28, 1879, and
accepted by the bondholders, provided for forty-
year refunding bonds, with interest at 3 per cent.
for ten years, 4 per cent. for twenty years, and 5.
per cent for ten years, coupons receivable for
taxes. The interest would thus have been about
$900,000 annually for ten years, and there would
have been little danger of a deficit. But the re-
adjusters, in addition to the standing claim of in-
ability to levy a higher rate of taxation than fifty
cents on $100, denounced the tax coupon feature.
of the act as ‘‘ against public policy, and degrad-
ing to the state and people.” On this issue they
obtained a popular majority in the election of No-
vember, 1879; and by a coalition of their forty
delegates with the seventeen republican members.
they obtained a majority in the lower house of
the legislature. They have since controlled the
VIRGINIA.
1073
state, though the “debt-paying ” electoral ticket,
recognized by the national democratic committee,
was successful in the presidential election of 1880.
In December, 1879, Mahone was elected United
States senator, and when his term began, in
March, 1881, he at once ranged himself with the
republicans, declaring that he had been elected as
a readjuster, not as a democrat. Since that time,
the fusion of the readjusters and republicans has
been complete, and has controlled the state. In
November, 1881, it elected Governor Cameron
by a vote of 111,473 to 99,757 for the “funder”
candidate, Daniel, and obtained a majority in
both branches of the legislature. Riddleberger,
who was the framer of the bill passed in 1873,
was sent to the United States senate for the term
beginning in 1883. But the defection of a few
of their number during the session prevented
the readjusters from carrying out their debt pro-
gramme, and the future of the party is very un-
certain. Its leaders are supported by the national
administration, which is republican, and yet the
fusion between readjusters and republicans has
never been more than a mechanical mixture, and
there are many signs of its breaking asunder.
While it lasts it at least secures the free exercise
of the right of suffrage to the negro voters of
the state. — In addition to the names of Jeffer-
son, Madison, Marshall, Monroe, John Randolph,
Tyler, Wirt and Washington (see those names),
the following have been among the more prom-
inent of the state's political leaders: William S.
Archer, whig congressman 1820–35, and Unit-
ed States senator 1841–7 ; Philip P. Barbour,
democratic congressman 1814–25 and 1827–30,
and supreme court justice 1836–41; Theodorick
Bland, anti-federal delegate to congress 1780–83,
and congressman 1789–90; Thomas S. Bocock,
democratic congressman 1847-61, confederate
congressman and speaker of the house 1862–5;
Alexander R. Boteler, whig and “American’”
congressman 1859–61, confederate congressman
1862–4; John Minor Botts, whig congressman
1830–43 and 1847–9, and an open opponent of se-
cession throughout the rebellion; James Breckin-
ridge, federalist congressman 1809–17; Matthew
Clay, democratic congressman 1797–1815; George
C. Dromgoole, democratic congressman 1835–41
and 1843–7; John W. Eppes, democratic congress-
man 1803–11 and 1813–15, and United States sen-
ator 1817–19; Charles J. Faulkner, whig and
democratic congressman 1851–9, and minister to
France 1859–61 (see WEST VIRGINIA); John
Floyd, democratic congressman 1817–29, governor
1830–34, and a leading nullificationist ; John B.
Floyd (son of the preceding), governor 1849–52,
Secretary of war under Buchanan, and brigadier
general in the confederate army; William B. Giles,
democratic congressman 1790–99 and 1801–3,
United States Senator 1804–15, and governor 1827
–30; Thomas W. Gilmer, governor 1840–41, con-
gressman 1841–4 (“Tylerized” whig, afterward a
democrat), and secretary of the navy under Tyler;
Wm. L. Goggin, whig congressman 1839–43,
187 VOL. III. — 68
1844–5, and 1847–9 ; John Goode, confederate
congressman 1862–5; democratic congressman
1875–81; Benjamin Harrison (father of Pres. Har-
rison), delegate to congress 1774–8, and governor
1782–4; Patrick Henry, the state's popular leader
in the revolution, delegate to congress 1774–6,
governor 1776–9 and 1784–6, leader of the anti-
federalists in the Virginia convention of 1788
(see CONSTITUTION, II.), and afterward a federal-
ist; Robert M. T. Hunter, democratic congress-
man 1837–43 and 1845–7, United States Senator
1847–61, confederate senator 1862 (see CONFEDER-
ATE STATES); Eppa Hunton, confederate briga-
dier general, democratic congressman 1873–9 (see
ELECTORAL COMMISSION); Arthur Lee, congres-
sional commissioner to France and Spain 1776–80,
and delegate to congress 1782–5; Henry Lee, a
cavalry officer in the revolution, delegate to con-
gress in 1786, federalist governor 1792–5, and
congressman 1799–1801; Richard Henry Lee, del-
egate to congress (see DECLARATION OF INDE-
PENDENCE) 1774–80 and 1784–7, and United States
senator 1789–92; Benjamin Watkins Leigh, whig.
United States senator 1834–6, then resigning rather
than obey “instructions” from the legislature;
William Mahone, confederate major general, or-
ganizer of the “readjuster” party, and United
States senator 1881–7; George Mason, a revolu-
tionary and anti-federal leader (see CoNSTITUTION,
II.); James M. Mason, democratic congressman
1837–9, United States senator 1847-61, and con-
federate commissioner to Great Britain; John Y.
Mason, democratic congressman 1831–7, secretary
of the navy under Tyler and Polk 1844–9, and
minister to Great Britain 1854–9; Charles F.
Mercer, democratic congressman 1817–39; Wil-
son C. Nicholas, democratic United States son-
ator 1800–4, congressman 1807–9, and governor
1814–16; Edmund Pendleton, delegate to congress
1774–5 and president of the Virginia convention
of 1788; William B. Preston, whig congressman
1847–9, secretary of the navy under Taylor, con-
federate senator in 1862; Edmund Randolph, del-
egate to congress 1779–82, governor 1786–8 (see
CoNVENTION of 1787; CoNSTITUTION, II.), attor-
ney general and secretary of state under Wash-
ington, who requested him to resign in 1795 for
official misconduct; Peyton Randolph, delegate
to congress and president of that body 1774–5;
Thomas Mann Randolph, democratic congressman
1803–7, and governor 1819–22; William C. Rives,
democratic congressman 1823 – 9, minister to
France 1829–32 and 1849–53, United States sena-
tor 1833–4 and 1836–45, and confederate congress-
man 1861–4; James A. Seddon, democratic con-
gressman 1845–7 and 1849–51 (see CONFEDERATE
STATEs); Andrew Stevenson, democratic con-
gressman 1823–34, speaker of the house 1827–34,
and minister to Great Britain 1836–41; Alexander
H. H. Stuart, whig congressman 1841–3, Secretary
of the interior under Fillmore; John Taylor, dem-
ocratic United States senator 1792–4, and 1803,
and 1822–4 (see authorities under CONSTITUTION,
IV. c); Littleton W. Tazewell, democratic con-
1074
WAGE FUND.
gressman 1800–1, and United states Senator 1824
–32; Abel P. Upshur, state judge 1826–41, and
secretary of the navy and of state under Tyler;
George Tucker, democratic congressman 1819–25,
professor of political economy in the state uni-
versity 1825–45, and a standard historian; Henry
St. George Tucker, democratic congressman 1815
–19, thereafter chancellor of the Winchester dis-
trict, president of the court of appeals, and pro-
fessor of law in the university until 1845; John
Randolph Tucker, state attorney general 1857–65,
and democratic congressman 1875–83; and Henry
A. Wise, democratic congressman 1833–44, min-
ister to Brazil 1844–7, governor 1856–60, and con-
federate brigadier general. —See 2 Poore's Federal
and State Constitutions, 2 Hough's American Con-
stitutions; Neill's History of the Virginia Company
(1869); H. B. Adams' Influence of Maryland (boun-
dary of Virginia); Stith's Early Settlement of Vir-
ginia (1747); De Haas' Early Settlement of Vºr-
ginia ; 1 Force's Tracts (Bacon's rebellion); 3
Sparks’ American Biography, 2d series (Life of
Bacon); C. Campbell's [Early] History of Virginia;
Beverley's History of Virginia (to 1706); Keith's
History of Virginia (1738); Burk's History of Vir-
ginia (continued by Jones and Girardin to 1781);
J. W. Campbell's History of Virginia (to 1781);
Jefferson's Notes on Virginia; Howe's Historical
Collections of Virginia; Meade's Old Churches
and Families of Virginia (1857); Grigsby's Con-
vention of 1776; Debates and Proceedings of Con-
ventions (1788, 1829–30, 1850, and 1867); Nicol-
son’s Debates in the Virginia Legislature (1798);
Dew's Review of Debates in Virginia Legislature
of 1831–2; Foote's Historical and Biographical
Sketches of Virginia ; Virginia. Historical Register
(1848–53); Howison's History of Virginia (to
1847); Carpenter's History of Virginia (to 1852);
Dabney’s Defense of Virginia, Botts’ History of
the Great Rebellion ; Virginia : A Geographical
and Political Summary (1876); Appleton's An-
n/wal Cyclopædia (1861–81).
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WIRGINIA RESOLUTIONS.
TUCKY AND WIRGINIA RESOLUTIONS.)
(See KEN-
W
AGE FUND, The. The wage fund is the
term used to characterize that theory of
the distribution of wealth which became preva-
lent in England shortly after the close of the
Napoleonic wars; which was generally accepted
upon English authority by American economists,
and remained in full virtue unchallenged for
nearly half a century. It never crossed the Brit-
ish channel, however, and is practically unknown
to the political economy of continental Europe.
— This theory made the capitalist employer to be
the residual claimant upon the product of indus-
try. Rent was to be first deducted, the amount
thereof to be determined, in the main, according
to the Ricardoan formula, with more or less of
concession or remission by landlord to tenant,
under the influence of personal good feeling or of
a public sentiment prescribing a kindly and con-
siderate treatment of the actual cultivators of the
soil. Next, wages were to be deducted, the
amount thereof to be ascertained, according to
the wage-fund formula, of which we are now to
speak. There were to remain : profits, composed
of interest on the capital employed (including a
premium for the insurance of capital against
extraordinary risks), and of the remuneration of
business management. Profits constituted the
share of the product of industry going to the
capitalist employer, who, after paying rent and
wages, as indicated, retained all the rest as his
own. This view of the relation of the several
parties to the distribution of wealth was summed
up by De Quincey in the saying: “Profits are the
leavings of wages,” rent not being here mentioned,
inasmuch as De Quincey has in view the produc-
tion of wealth upon the lowest grades of soil,
which pay no rent. — We find no trace of the
wage-fund doctrine in Adam Smith’s “Wealth
of Nations,” published in 1776. Dr. Smith, in-
deed, writes of “the funds for the maintenance
of labor”; but while he thus recognizes the need
the laborer has of a pre-existing body of wealth
from which he is to be sustained during the period
while his labor is bearing its fruit in harvested
or marketed products, he did not intimate that
the laborer's remuneration was strictly limited to
the amount thus required for his immediate sus-
tentation; he did not allege that no part of these
funds might be the laborer's own, accumulated
from the savings of previous years; he did not
assume that these funds were so fixed and definite
in amount as to be independent alike of the in-
dustrial quality of the laboring class and of any
efforts they might put forth to increase their share
of the product of industry. So far was Adam
Smith from holding this view, that he expressly
stated that “the wages of labor are the encourage-
ment of industry, which, like every other human
quality, improves in proportion to the encourage-
ment it receives.”— Even Mr. Malthus, in his
work of 1820, although he gave great prominence
to the laborer’s need of provisional maintenance
during the interval between the rendering of the
service and the realizing of the product, failed to
intimate any constant or any necessary relation
between the funds so employed and the aggregate
capital of a country. — Yet at this time the in-
dustrial condition of England had become such
through the effects of the Napoleonic wars, and
of the ill-devised pauper legislation of parliament,
WAGE FUND.
1075
as strongly to suggest the doctrine which was, in
1824, to be announced by Mr. James Mill, and
was, for nearly fifty years, completely to dom-
inate all theory of the distribution of wealth, so
far as English and American political economy
was concerned. — The wars which, with the inter-
mission of a single year, raged from 1793 to 1815,
by checking the importation of grain, drove cul-
tivation in England down to inferior soils, thus
raising the proportion of the aggregate produce
going in rent to the landlords. The frequent and
violent fluctuations of prices through all this
period, according to the fortunes of battle by sea
and by land, threw no small part of the wealth
of the kingdom into the hands of the speculating
as distinguished from the producing class. And
while these causes were working to prejudice
especially the interests of labor, the volume of
wealth to be distributed was diminished by the
waste of war. — But it is doubtful whether the
effects of all these causes, acting in conjunction
to depress the condition and degrade the char-
acter of the mass of the English people, were
equal to the deleterious influence of the changes
in the poor law system of the kingdom, by which
the workhouse test for able-bodied paupers was
abandoned; by which appropriations were made
from public funds, to supplement wages; and by
which a premium was put upon births, and an
even higher premium upon illegitimate births. –
So efficient for evil were the causes described as
operating during this period, that, by the close of
the Napoleonic wars, the working classes of En-
gland had been reduced to extreme and apparent-
ly hopeless misery. Accumulation by the laborer
had been rendered impossible, and he was thus
rendered completely dependent upon the employ-
er, who was required to advance the whole of his
subsistence, in anticipation of the crops or the
goods being harvested or marketed. At the same
time the average efficiency of the industrial agent
had been so impaired, by both moral and physio-
logical causes, and the market for labor had be-
come so crowded, that the laborer's share of the
ultimate product rarely exceeded in any degree
the sums so advanced in provisional maintenance.
—Under these conditions the subsistence fund
became, in fact, precisely equivalent to wages;
and it is not at all surprising that English econo-
mists, contemplating the state of things reached
in their own country, should have come to regard
the subsistence fund and wages as necessarily
identical, and, in so doing, have evolved the no-
tion of a wage fund. — The first distinct state-
ment of the doctrine under consideration, is that
of James Mill, in his work of 1824. The “Polit-
ical Economy” of J. R. M'Culloch, published in
the following year, contains a positive assertion
of the necessary dependence of wages upon the
proportion which the whole capital of a country
bears to the whole laboring population. Mr. John
Stuart Mill, in his great work of 1848, makes the
doctrine of a wage fund the keystone of his theory
of the distribution of wealth. The following is
his statement : “If wages are higher at one time
or place than at another; if the subsistence and
comfort of the class of hired laborers are more
ample, it is and can be for no other reason than
because capital bears a greater proportion to pop-
ulation. * * The rate of wages, which results
from competition, distributes the whole wage fund
among the whole laboring population.” Let us add
the statement of this doctrine given by Mr. Mill,
twenty-one years later, when its validity had been
rudely questioned. “There is supposed to be, at
any given instant, a sum of wealth which is uncon-
ditionally devoted to the payment of wages of
labor. This sum is not regarded as unalterable,
for it is augmented by saving, and increases with
the progress of wealth; but it is reasoned upon as,
at any given moment, a predetermined amount.
More than that amount, it is assumed that the wage-
receiving class can not possibly divide among
them; that amount, and no less, they can not but
obtain. So that, the sum to be divided being fixed,
the wages of each depends solely upon the divisor,
the number of participants.” (“Fortnightly Re-
view,” May, 1869.)—The first challenge of the
dominant theory of wages in England came from
a barrister little known to fame, Mr. Francis D.
Longe, who, in 1866, issued a pamphlet entitled
“A Refutation of the Wage-Fund theory of Mod-
ern Political Economy, as enunciated by Mr. Mill,
M. P., and Mr. Fawcett, M. P.” This pamphlet
attracted little attention; not one of the reviews
noticed it; and when, three years later, Mr. W.
T. Thornton attacked the wage-fund doctrine, he
appeared wholly ignorant of its existence. Yet
the earlier work was the abler of the two, and
nearly covered the whole case against the current
economic doctrine. That doctrine, as we have
seen, stood upon the asserted need, on the part of
the laborer, of provisional maintenance, to be
afforded by the capitalist, out of funds previously
accumulated. As Prof. Fawcett had stated in his
“Manual of Political Economy,” “laborers while
engaged in any particular industry can not live
upon the commodity which their labor is assisting
to produce. The plowman who tills the soil,
from which in the following autumn the harvest
will be gathered, is fed with the wealth which his
master has saved, or, in other words, the master
pays his laborer's wages from the wealth he has
previously saved.” That is, because the master
must needs pay the laborer something before the
harvest, he can not possibly pay him anything
after the harvest! To say that the laborer derives
a provisional maintenance from the master's Cap-
ital, is, in Prof. Fawcett's view, precisely equiv-
alent to saying that the laborer derives his wages,
his entire wages, from this source. Mr. M'Cul-
loch has left the same assertion of the natural and
necessary equivalency of subsistence and wages.
— Upon this open point in the position of the
economists Mr. Longe fell with incisive force,
He insisted upon the distinction between “the
wealth or capital available for the maintenance of
laborers,” and ‘‘the amount of wealth available
1076
WAGE FUND.
for the purchase of their work.” “The amount
of money,” reasons Mr. Longe, “which a farmher
can afford to advance for the maintenance of labor-
ers, without using the money he gets from the sale
of his stock or crops, is unquestionably limited by
the amount of wealth at his disposal from other
sources; but the amount of money or wealth which
the farmer can afford to pay, or contract to pay,
as wages, is limited only by the amount of money
for which his crops will sell.” — Although Mr.
Longe's pamphlet did not even receive the honor
of a notice in the reviews, Mr. Thornton, when in
1869 he advanced nearly the same arguments
against the current economic doctrine, and, as I
must think, with less of clearness and force,
achieved an overwhelming triumph. Through an
article in the “Fortnightly Review” of May of
that year, Mr. John Stuart Mill, after stating the
wage-fund doctrine, in the terms already quoted,
and adding, “this series of deductions is generally
received as incontrovertible: they are found in
every systematic treatise on political economy, my
own certainly included,” proceeded completely to
renounce these life-long views. He declared that
Mr. Thornton had deprived of all scientific foun-
dation the doctrine so long taught by “all or most
economists”; that Mr. Thornton had shown that
the barrier (the wage fund) which had “closed
the entrance to one of the most important prov-
inces of economic and social inquiry,” is but “a
shadow which will vanish if we go boldly up to
it.”— Mr. Mill’s recantation of the wage-fund
doctrine produced a deep impression. The “Lon.
don Quarterly Review” (July, 1871) characterized
the wage fund as “a thing, or un-thing (to borrow
a German idiom), which is henceforth shunted
fairly out of the way of future discussion of all
questions affecting labor and labor’s wages.” —
Yet Mr. Mill's surrender was not wholly acqui-
esced in by the professional economists. Prof.
John E. Cairnes, in his masterly work of 1874,
undertook the rehabilitation of the economic doc-
trine of wages; and, with much care and pains,
sought to show that something which might not
improperly be called a wage fund, though widely
different from the wage fund of the two Mills, of
M“Culloch and of Fawcett, does exist, and does
limit the amount that can be paid in wages. But
the prestige of the old doctrine was destroyed, and
the result of successive assaults has been its prac-
tical abandonment by the English economists.
Prof. W. Stanley Jevons, in the second edition of
his theory of “Political Economy,” published in
1880, after referring to the general consent of his
brethren to give up what was once the keystone
of the orthodox theory of the distribution of
wealth, writes: “In this matter of wages, the En-
glish economists have been living in a fool's para-
dise. The truth is with the French school.” —
In the foregoing sketch of the rise and fall of this
economic doctrine, have been intimated the mature
and direction of the arguments which have com-
pelled the practical abandonment of it by the econ-
omists of to-day. Its great importance in the his.
tory of political economy, however, and the fact
that it is still found in most of the systematic
treatises on the shelves of our libraries, and even
in the treatises now used as text books” in our col-
leges, render desirable a compact recital of the
objections to this theory of the origin and the
limit of wages. – In the first place, the reason for
holding this theory of wages assigned by the
Messrs. Mill, by Mr. M'Culloch and by Prof.
Fawcett, proves to be no reason at all, in view of
the distinction first presented by Mr. Longe, be-
tween the amount advanced by the employer for
the maintenance of the laborer, and the amount
to be paid, first and last, for the laborer's services.
It is seen at once, in the light of this distinction,
that the mere fact that the employer must pay the
laborer something, in advance of the harvest, con-
stitutes no reason whatsoever why the employer
should not pay the laborer something more, on
the completion of the harvest. — But, again, this
doctrine assumes, in all the statements of it we
have quoted, that the laborer is always and neces-
sarily dependent on the employer for the entire
amount of his subsistence. Now, this state of
things did, in fact, exist throughout England,
during the period when the doctrines in question
came to be formulated. Probably the doctrine
would never have arisen but for that state of
things. But this condition is not involved in the
nature of the relation of the laborer to his em-
ployer; nor have there been wanting examples, on
a large scale, of the ability of the working classes
to accumulate vast sums out of their earnings;
witness the deposits of our American savings
banks!— But the wage-fund theory might be true
were all the reasons adduced in support of it con-
clusively proven to be false. Let us, then, examine
without prejudice from the mistakes of its advo-
cates, the proposition that wages are paid out of
capital, and that the possible amount of wages
in any country, at any time, is determined by the
amount of capital then and there existing.—Why
does an employer pay wages at all? Surely not to
expend a fund of which he finds himself in posses-
sion, and of which he regards himself as trustee;
but to purchase labor. Why does he purchase la-
bor? Not at all that he may keep it employed; as
it might be employed in carrying burdens first up-
stairs and then down-stairs again, but he purchases
labor as a means to the production of wealth.
Why does he produce wealth? Merely that it
may be produced, as might be the case had he no
personal part in its ownership, no interest in its
use or enjoyment? Surely not : unless the most
exceptional of mortals, he produces wealth, not
for the sake of producing it, but with a view to
a profit to himself, individually, therefrom. The
mere fact that a person has capital at his command
no more constitutes a reason why he should use it
in production when he can get no profits, than
* In spite of Mr. Mill's complete recantation of the wage-
fund doctrine, in 1869, his earlier statements are still found,
unretracted and unqualified, in the latest edition of his “Po-
litical Economy.”
WAGES.
1077
the fact that the laborer has arms and legs consti-
tutes a reason why he should work when he can
get no wages. It is, we see, for the sake of future
production, that laborers are employed; not at all
because the employer has possession of a fund
which he must disburse. Is it not, then, the value
of the product, such as it is likely to prove, which
determines the amount of wages the employer is
both able and willing to pay? If So, it is produc-
tion, and not capital, which furnishes the motive
for employment and the measure of wages.— But,
if production furnishes the measure of wages, the
amount so to be paid can not be irrespective of
the industrial quality of the wages class, since
production varies necessarily, and varies within a
wide range, according as that industrial quality is
high or low. Therefore, the wage-fund doctrine
is false, for it teaches that the rate of wages de-
pends solely upon the proportion which the
amount of capital bears to the numbers of the la-
boring population, altogether irrespective of their
industrial quakity. — But even were we to waive
consideration of the industrial quality of a laboring
population, would it then be true that the amount
of possible wages is determined in and by the
amount of capital existing; and that the wage fund
so constituted forms a predetermined dividend, the
divisor of which is to consist of the number of la-
borers? Precisely this is involved in the wage-fund
doctrine, as it was taught, without qualification,
down to a recent period. In 1864 Prof. Fawcet
delivered a course of lectures in Cambridge uni-
versity, in which he laid down the following rule:
“The circulating capital of a country is its wage
fund. Hence, if we desire to calculate the average
money wages received by each laborer, we have
simply to divide the amount of this capital by the
number of the laboring population.” The fallacy
of this is seen the moment we realize that the pur-
pose for which labor is employed is, not the distri-
bution of a pre-existing fund, but the creation of
values, the production of new wealth. This being
so, the dividend can not be predetermined irrespect-
ive of the number of laborers, since the quantity
or amount of the product of industry must itself
depend upon the number of laborers. More la-
borers will produce more wealth—whether propor-
tionately more or not, is aside from the question:
fewer laborers will produce less wealth—whether
proportionately less or not, we need not here in-
quire. Therefore the wage-fund doctrine is again
shown to be false. —The only virtue the doctrine
we have been considering ever possessed, for prac-
tical uses, was in its assertion that an econom-
ic reason must exist for any and every advance
of wages. Doubtless this explains why some
economists still cling to the doctrine, as fearing
that if it be abandoned, there will be no barrier
against foolish and mischievous claims by the la-
boring classes for increase of remuneration or re-
duction of the hours of work. But the proposition
that production furnishes at once the motive to
employment and the measure of wages, equally
establishes a barrier to every claim on behalf of
the working classes which can not present a sub-
stantial economic reason. The one view of the
origin and limit of wages, equally as the other,
opposes itself to all demands, in the interest of
labor, which are made merely under the impulse
of compassion, or philanthropy, or the enthusi-
asm of humanity. — The only difference between .
the two theories is, that by the one the economic
force which limits wages is found in the amount
of capital, while by the other it is found in the
value of the product of industry, to which land,
capital and labor jointly contribute. Which rule
would be more consonant to sentiments of natural
justice is not at issue, though here the preference
clearly lies on the side of the rule we propose; the
question is, Which corresponds the more closely
to the reason of the case and to the just import of
industrial statistics? On this issue the movement
of economic opinion since 1866 has been over-
whelmingly against the wage-fund doctrine.
FRANCIS A. WALKER.
WAGES. The word wages, in its popular
use, signifies the remuneration of hired labor.
As so used, it is more or less disparaging, being
commonly placed in contrast with the words sala-
ries, fees, honorarium, etc., by which it is sought
to denote the remuneration of Services of a higher
or more intellectual character.—To the economist,
however, the word wages has no special reference
to manual, as distinguished from intellectual,
effort. That term in economic literature has two
significations, the one much wider than the other.
By the first is embraced, not only the wages of man-
ual labor, hired by an employer; not only the avails
of unhired manual labor, as of the Smith work-
ing in his own shop, or of the peasant proprietor
tilling his own lot of ground (due exception being
made of rent and interest); not only the salaries
of school teachers and public officials, the fees of
lawyers and physicians, and the honorarium of
the artist; but, also, all sums accruing to the em-
ployers of labor, through their own personal
supervision and direction of the processes of in-
dustry. In a word, wages, in this largest Sense,
embraces all the material rewards of human exer-
tions and sacrifices which are directed to the pro-
duction of wealth, as distinguished only from
the remuneration paid for the use of land and the
remuneration paid for the use of capital. — In the
second and narrower economic sense, while retain-
ing in all other respects the significance attributed
to it above, the word wages becomes exclusive of
the sums accruing to the employer of labor, as
such, who, under the four-fold division of indus-
trial activity specially characteristic of the present
age, leases land, so far as this may be essential to
his operations, and pays therefor rent; borrows
capital, and pays therefor interest; hires labor,
paying therefor wages; and has remaining in his
hands, out of the product of industry, an amount
of wealth, greater or less according to his activity,
his enterprise, his prescience, his prudence, and,
also, in some measure according to his good or
1078
WAGES.
evil fortune. — The difference, then, between the
two senses of the word wages, is found wholly in
the fact that the former includes, while the latter
excludes, the remuneration received by the em-
ployer, as such. The two alike exclude rent and
interest, proper. Throughout the present article
the word will be used in the latter and more re-
stricted sense, the remuneration—viz., profits—
which is received by the employer of labor, as
such, forming the subject of a separate investiga-
tion. — The questions relating to wages may be
discussed under two titles, General Wages and
Particular Wages: the former having reference to
the problem of the distribution of wealth between
the wages class, as a whole, and other claimants
upon the product of industry; the latter, to the
problem of the distribution of the aggregate
amount of wealth paid, or possibly to be paid,
in wages, among the several classes of wage re-
ceivers. We shall take up these two divisions of
the subject in inverse order. — I. PARTICULAR
WAGES. In any consideration of the comparative
remuneration of individuals or classes, it is of the
highest importance to preserve the distinction ex-
pressed by economists as that between real and
nominal wages. Real wages are the remunera-
tion of the laborer, as reduced to the necessaries,
comforts or luxuries of life. These are what the
laborer works for ; these are truly his wages.
The money he receives is only a means to that
end. – Real may differ from nominal wages by
reason of : First, variations in the purchase power
of money. This is a consideration of prime im-
portance, in the comparison of wages, as between
one epoch and another. Second, varieties in the
form of payment. Wages, though generally
reckoned in money, are, to a very large extent,
not paid in money. Especially in agriculture, the
world over, full payment in money is highly
exceptional. The forms, other than money, in
which labor is remunerated, are various, the chief
among them being rent, where cottages or tene-
ments are provided for the laborer and his family,
whether in agricultural or mechanical industry;
board, mainly confined to unmarried laborers;
and, lastly, a great variety of allowances, per-
quisites and privileges, such as definite quantities
of certain kinds of food, drink or fuel, furnished by
the employer; such as the hauling to the laborer's
house of wood, coal or peat by the employer’s
teams, the keep of a cow, the right to take flour
at millers’ prices or at a fixed price whatever the
market rate, the gleaning of fields, etc., etc. So
numerous and diverse are the forms of payment
of wages to hired laborers in agriculture, that
anything like an exact comparison between the
rates of real wages in different countries or
districts often becomes practically impossible.
Third, opportunities for extra earnings, by the
head of the family, or by its other members.
Thus, a weaver or spinner earning twenty shil-
lings a week, may find places in which his wife and
minor children may earn an equal sum, making
the income of the family forty shillings. A car-
penter or coal-heaver, on the other hand, receiving
twenty-five shillings a week, may find himself una-
ble to add anything to the family income through
the labor of wife or child. It is evident, there-
fore, that in any comparison of wages, the total
income of the family should be taken as the unit.
Fourth, the greater or less regularity of employ-
ment. Varying regularity of employment may be
due to the nature of the individual occupation, or
to the force of the seasons, or to social and indus-
trial causes of a general nature. In agriculture,
for example, the nature of the operations involved,
and the difference of seasons, cause great irregular-
ity of employment. The rate of wages during the
third quarter of the year is generally more than
twice that during the first quarter. In this respect,
however, there is great difference between differ-
ent countries. An English farmer is plowing while
a New England farmer is hauling wood on the ice
and snow. In some countries agricultural opera-
tions are spread over eight months; in others, they
are confined to four. In the fisheries, also in the
so-called building trades, and in most out-door
avocations, there is great irregularity in the matter
of employment during the different periods of the
year. On the other hand, there is nothing in the
force of the seasons, or in the nature of the oper-
ations involved, to prevent weaving, spinning,
shoemaking, paper-making, etc., from proceeding
uniformly through twelve consecutive months.
Industrial causes, also, like strikes, lock-outs,
panics, and so-called hard times, produce great.
differences in the real rate of wages, where the
same nominal rates exist. Fifth, the longer or
shorter duration of the power to labor. This
consideration is of prime importance, both as be-
tween nations and as between the classes of per-
sons pursuing different avocations within the same
country. It is evident, that, if two persons begin
to labor productively at the same period of life,
and continue at work in the same occupation, at
the same nominal wages, until death or final disa-
bility, the one receives the higher real remunera-
tion who lives and works the longer, since the
cost of his maintenance during the period of un-
productive labor is properly to be charged upon his
wages during the productive period. In the fore-
going respect, there are wide differences among
nations, which must enter to greatly affect the real
remuneration of labor. Dr. Edward Jarvis has
stated, that, for every thousand years expended in
the developing period upon all who are born, in-
cluding both those who die, and those who survive
to the age of twenty, the consequent laboring and
productive years are, in Norway, 1,881; in Swe-
den, 1,749; in England, 1,688; in the United States,
1,664; in France, 1,398; and in Ireland, 1,148.
Moreover, as between different occupations in the
same country, there are wide differences in the
duration of the power to labor, which must be
taken into account in adjusting nominal to real
wages. The eminent actuary, Dr. Neison, states
that the influence of occupation upon life is so
considerable that the mortality in one avocation
WAGES.
1079
exceeds that of another by not less than 239 per
cent. Taking the period of life, twenty-five to
sixty-five, Dr. Neison finds that the mean mortali-
ty in the clerical profession, in England, is 1.12 per
cent.; in the legal, 1.57; in the medical, 1.81. In
domestic service, the mortality among gardeners
is but .93; among grooms, 1.26; among house serv-
ants, 1.67, among coachmen, 1.84. Of the several
branches of manufacture, paper shows a mean mor-
tality of 1.45; tin, of 1.61; iron, 1.75; glass, 1.83;
copper, 2.16; lead, 2.24; earthenware, 2.57; the
mortality among those operatives in the last-named
branch of industry, who are known as china-
scourers, due to the inhaling of the fine dust float-
ing in the air, being positively frightful. Among
the different kinds of mining industry, the range
of this effect is even greater, the mean mortality
of iron miners being 1.80; of tin miners, 1.99; of
lead miners, 2.50, due to the prevalence of asthma
and chronic bronchitis; and of copper miners, 3.17,
due largely to the excessive heat prevailing in this
class of mines. Even these figures, striking as
they are, do not exhibit the full effect of the cause
under consideration, since the occurrence of per-
manent disability among operatives of certain
classes is out of proportion to the actual occur-
rence of death. In some of the agricultural dis-
tricts of England, owing to wretched food and
still more wretched lodgings, the laborer, though
often long-lived, is early crippled and doubled up
by rheumatism. — The foregoing heads embrace
the chief causes which are commonly adduced in
reduction of nominal to real wages, i.e., of money
wages to wages expressed in terms of what Mr.
Malthus calls “food, clothing, lodging and fir-
ing.” In satisfaction, however, of still other de-
sires of the laborer (using that term in the large
sense attributed to it at the beginning of this arti-
cle), and consequently forming a possible part of
his real, as distinguished from his nominal, wages,
enter certain other elements which may be found
in a high degree in one occupation and in a low
degree in another. Such is agreeableness of situ-
ation or of work; such is reputableness, or even
distinction attaching to the performance of certain
services. These are most influential causes in
producing differences between real and nominal
wages, in not a few departments of labor. One
great object for which wealth is expended is to
command social consideration. If, then, a certain
position of itself gives authority or dignity, this
may constitute, to one person, or even to many
persons, a fair equivalent for a portion of the re-
muneration which, in a different avocation, he
might expect and be able to exact. A judge-
ship is often accepted by eminent lawyers who
have been accustomed in their professional prac-
tice to earn several times the salary of that office.
“Forty pounds a year,” wrote Adam Smith, in
the last century, “is reckoned at present very
good pay for a curate, and there are many curacies
under twenty pounds a year. There are journey-
men shoemakers in London who earn forty pounds
a year, and there is scarcely an industrious work-
man of any kind, in that metropolis, who does
not earn more than twenty.” The conception of
dignity which thus gives preference to one occu-
pation over another, may be wholly false or mis-
taken, without losing anything of its power to in-
fluence the actions of men, which is all the econ-
omist has to consider. Thousands of young men,
in every large American city, stand around the
marts of trade, hoping, by some chance, or by in-
fluence or solicitation, to crowd themselves into
hard-worked and ill-paid places as clerks, because
they deem manual labor degrading, although a
skilled mason or carpenter earns twice or thrice as
much, and that in a shorter day of labor. On the
other hand, there are avocations which are excep-
tionally unpleasant to the senses, or exceptionally
dangerous to life and limb, or exceptionally dis-
creditable, and which, on this account, would
naturally, were all other conditions constant,
command a higher rate of remuneration. If, in
Some instances, those who pursue such avocations
do not only not receive higher wages, but are
compelled to accept a smaller, perhaps a much
smaller, remuneration, this is not because the force
just adverted to does not operate, but because it
is counteracted by another cause, viz., that large
numbers of persons are, by reason of ignorance,
or misfortune, or disrepute, debarred from more
favorable employment, and shut up to one or an-
other avocation of the class described. — Assum-
ing the proper reduction of nominal to real wages,
by allowances on the several foregoing accounts,
we next come to inquire what are the causes which
produce the wide differences which exist in the
wages of labor, as between different countries,
and as between particular avocations within the
same country. — As between different countries,
the tendency to equality of wages within the same
or closely corresponding avocations, varies with
the readiness with which emigration or immigra-
tion, which we may call the flow of labor, takes
place. Between no two countries, however near,
and however similar in social or political condi-
tions, is the flow of labor sufficiently easy to secure
a close approximation to equality of wages. Adam
Smith, in his day (1776), declared that man is, of
all sorts of luggage, the most difficult to be trans-
ported. “A difference of prices,” he says, “which
is not always sufficient to transport a man from
one parish to another, would necessarily occasion
so great a transportation of the most bulky Com-
modities, not only from one-point to another, but
from one end of the kingdom to another, almost
from one end of the world to another, as would
soon reduce their prices more nearly to a level.”
Mr. Ricardo, writing a generation later (1817),
assumed that the flow of labor from country to
country would be so tardy and difficult as prac-
tically to leave the laboring classes to enjoy or to
suffer the industrial advantages or disadvantages of
their respective countries, without any important
influence as the result of immigration or emigra-
tion. John Stuart Mill, writing still a generation
later (1848), just at the beginning of an age of Won-
1080
WAGES.
derful progress in the arts of transportation and
the communication of news, noted “a visible
tendency toward a freer migration of labor and
capital, to take advantage of better opportunities
of employment and investment.” One generation
later still, we may say, that, in 1883, the tendency
pointed out by Mr. Mill acquires strength from
year to year; but that the flow of labor still re-
mains, as between country and country, so diffi-
cult and so tardy as to allow very great differences
in real wages to remain, through long periods, but
little affected by emigration or immigration. — As
between different avocations within the same
country, the earlier economists, like Smith and
Ricardo, assumed a substantial equality of real
wages; and in this they were followed, though
with more or less qualification, by John Stuart
Mill. In his great work of 1874, Prof. Cairnes,
writing with especial reference, we may suppose,
to English conditions, proposed his theory of
“non-competing groups.” “What we find,” he
said, “is, in effect, not a whole population com-
peting indiscriminately for all occupations, but a
series of industrial layers, superimposed on One
another, within each of which the various candi-
dates for employment possess a real and effective
power of selection, while those occupying the
several strata are, for all purposes of effective
competition, practically isolated from each other.”
Prof. Cairnes held the practical isolation of these
industrial groups to be not less complete than the
isolation which Mill had attributed to the several
commercial countries of his day; and he pro-
ceeded to apply to such groups, mutatis mutandis,
Mr. Mill’s law of international values. Whether
Prof. Cairnes’ view of the structure of industrial
society, within any given country, say, England,
will be found in all respects just, or not, it is evi-
dent that it contains enough of truth to deserve
the careful attention of the student of wages. It
is doubtless in this direction that the largest contri-
bution to economic science now possible might be
made by a competent investigator. — All the fore-
going remarks relative to the rates of wages pre-
wailing in different countries, and in different oc-
cupations within the same country, presuppose
a practical equality in the powers and qualifica-
tions of laborers. In addition, however, to the
difference in real wages produced by resistance to
the flow of labor from country to country, or
from one group of avocations to another group
within the same country, are the effects upon
the real remuneration of labor within particu-
lar avocations, produced by the differences in
the powers, the faculties, and the aptitudes of in-
dividuals within the same country, and within the
same great group of occupations. The rate of
wages within any particular avocation will be de-
termined exclusively by the operation of the prin-
ciple of demand and supply. — Now, in econom-
ics, the words demand and supply alike have ref-
erence, 1, to a certain article, and, 2, to a certain
price. Demand means the quantity of a given
article which would be taken at a given price.
Supply means the quantity of that article which
could be had at that price. Applying the term
supply, in the sense indicated, to any given market
for labor, we find that supply reaches its maxi-
mum in the number of persons who are capable
of rendering the service which is required, and
its minimum in the number who are both capable
of rendering that service and are willing to do so
at the price which the demand for the service
causes to be offered. The maximum supply of
labor so determined, may, in a given occupation,
be so small as, given a large demand for the serv-
ice to be rendered, to allow a very high rate of
wages to be reached, and to be maintained and
even increased from generation to generation.
Thus, the demand for the services of opera sing-
ers of the highest class was, forty years ago, so
great as to permit the wages of a prima donna to
equal the income of a lord; yet, during the entire
human generation that has intervened, this mag-
nificent premium upon operatic art, although
open freely even to the peasantry of every land,
has not sufficed to reduce, in the slightest degree,
the price of such services. On the contrary, that
price has steadily risen, under the influence of
enlarged demand, until $2,000 is paid for an even-
ing's singing. In a similar way, the wages of
the lawyer of the first class is almost wholly un-
influenced by the presence of large numbers of
persons of the same profession who would be re-
joiced to earn a tenth or a twentieth part of his
income. — Those who perform manual labor,
again, seem, as one looks over the face of indus-
trial society, to be organized into certain not very
clearly defined “non-competing groups,” to use
Prof. Cairnes’ phrase, within each of which the
tendency to the equalizing of wages is in con-
tinual, if irregular, progress; but between any
two of which, movement is so slow and difficult
as to produce painfully small results, even from
age to age. If we study the body of skilled arti-
sans, in any country where caste does not exist,
and the spirit of tradition is not very strong, we
find that the interchange of the trades of carpen-
ter, cabinet maker and carriage builder, for ex-
ample, is freely made: that these trades, though
less freely, interchange with those of blacksmith,
mason and plumber, wherever strong reason exists
for diminishing the supply of labor in one trade
and increasing that supply in another. All the
while, however, there is found below the class of
skilled artisans a vastly greater class, consisting
of factory operatives, of day laborers, etc., who
are compelled not only to work for half the wages
of the skilled artisan, but also, by what would
seem, from almost unvarying recurrence, to be a
moral necessity, to bring up their children, in the
main, to take their own low places in the indus-
trial order, however crowded and uncomfortable
those places may be. Indeed, it may be said that
the less desirable the place which the parent fills
in life, the smaller his ability to provide for the
advancement of his offspring. — The services per-
formed by the laborer of this last-indicated
WAGES.
1081
general class vary almost infinitely in form. So
much, however, are the several recognized avoca-
tions within this group alike in the demands they
make on the mental and physical powers, that a
certain movement of labor exists, tardy and diffi-
cult, it is true, so tardy and difficult, indeed, as
often to allow an individual who has been unfor-
tunate in seeking employment, or has put himself
at disadvantage by bad habits, to be cast down
into the industrial grade which lies beneath; yet
still the tendency to the equalization of wages
here continues to operate appreciably, in spite of
all obstructions. – Below the class described as
including the ordinary factory operative, the ordi-
nary day laborer, and others receiving an approxi-
mately equal remuneration, is found a great body
of the more or less helpless, the more or less un-
fortunate, the very ignorant, the men and women
40f vicious habits, the weak, the crippled, and the
“broken men’’ of the higher industrial grade.
These constitute the lowest stratum of the indus-
trial order. Movement, here, in the nature of
change, whether of place or of occupation, is
very tardy. A member of this class may with
great difficulty pass from one avocation to an-
other within his grade; it is most unlikely that he
will ever, by any exertion of his powers, or any
effort of self-denial, rise out of the class in which
he was born or into which he has fallen. —We
see, in the rude sketch here offered of modern
industrial Society, as existing, say, in England,
how it is that the supply of labor within certain
avocations, or groups of avocations, is restricted,
so that, after making all needed allowances in re-
duction of nominal to real wages, the average re-
muneration of one class may be twice that of an-
other, four times that of a third, though only a
small fraction of that received by the members of
a class still more fortunate; how it is that this
may not only be at a given time, but that the
causes which create these differences of condition
may go on operating to produce inequality faster
than competition can perform its leveling work;
and that, thus, the range of wages, wide as it may
be at any given time, shall steadily increase from
year to year, and from generation to generation.
—It is the effect of education, and, in a lower
degree, of political franchises, by promoting the
communication of news, from man to man and
from place to place, by promoting self-reliance
and power of initiative on the part of individuals,
and by promoting self-respect and social ambition
throughout the community, to promote, also, the
flow of labor under economic impulse. Such
causes, so far as they produce such effects, are
strictly economic causes, to be recognized by the
economist, and incorporated in his theory of the
distribution of wealth. — The operation of the
forces thus set in motion is clearly to be seen in
such countries of the old world as Saxony, Switz-
erland and Scotland, rising to its maximum prob-
ably in the United States of America, where alike
... the inertia of the laborer and the external resist-
ance to his migration in Search of the best market
for his services, are so far reduced as to become
almost inconsiderable. Nine and a half millions
of the native inhabitants of this country at the
present time reside in states other than those in
which they were born.” Doubtless an even greater
number of those who reside within the states of
their birth, are found in alien counties. If we
consider only the heads of families in the United
States, I personally believe, although no adequate
statistical data are available to corroborate this
opinion, that not more than one-fourth are to be
found within the towns or parishes in which they
were born. — Such a complete subjection of the
laborer to economic impulse has, of course, no
power to reduce those inequalities of wages which
are due to differences in physical or mental
strength, activity or persistence. It has no great
power to reduce those inequalities which result
from early mistakes and misadventures, or from
vicious habits and courses, always most influen-
tial causes in arranging men upon the industrial
scale; yet it has a certain unmistakable efficiency
in this direction, through affording the opportu-
nity to blot out a bad record and to begin a new
career without prejudice. But over all those in-
equalities of wages which result from accidents
of condition or circumstance, the force indicated
has irresistible Sway. — And this, too, is to be
taken into account, that in the degree, and in
more than the degree, in which the laborer, by
change, whether of place or of occupation, secures
an increase of his own remuneration, does he
also promote the general production of wealth.
Whenever the laborer, by the exercise of cour-
age and intelligence, breaks away from the spot
or the kind of work in which he has found
an inadequate remuneration, and seeks and finds
a better market, he does not only that which
is best for himself, but that which is best for
others. He not only gets more by resorting to
the new place or the new trade, but, in the
very act of doing so, he gives more also. If in
that market his service bears a higher price than
elsewhere, this is, of itself, a proof that his serv-
ice is there in greater demand, more needed, the
subject of an intenser want. By all the difference
which the change works in his own condition, and,
doubtless, by even much more than that difference,
is the general industrial system re-enforced and
stimulated by that change. — Hence we say, that
freedom and facility of industrial movement as
seen at their maximum in the United States, do
not only reduce the range of remuneration, as be-
tween the classes naturally less favored and those
more favored, but it also, by enhancing the pro-
ductive power of the community, raises the re-
muneration of the whole body of laborers. — II.
GENERAL WAGES. The question, what portion of
the product of industry passes, by the normal
operation of economic laws, into the hands of that
one of the co-operating agents of production whom
we call, in economic discussion, the laborer, was,
* “The full-blooded American,” said Michel Chevalier,
“is encamped, not established, on the soil he treads upon.”
1082
WAGES.
until fifteen years ago, deemed to have been con-
clusively and definitively answered by the ac-
cepted political economy of England and Amer-
ica. That answer made the capitalist employer
to be the residual claimant upon the product of
industry. Rent was first to be deducted, the
amount to be determined according to the Ricar-
doan formula. Next, wages were to be deducted,
the amount to be determined by the wage-fund
formula. There were to remain profits, composed
of interest upon capital and of the remuneration
of business management. These constituted the
share of the capitalist employer, who, after paying
rent and wages, according to the formulae indi-
cated, retained all the rest of the product of in-
dustry as his own. In the article next preceding,
we have traced the rise and fall of the wage-fund
doctrine, and have stated the arguments which
have led to its general abandonment by the econ-
omists of England and America, opening the way
for a philosophy of wages. So long as that doc-
trine was accepted, wages remained purely a ques-
tion in long division, and no philosophy of wages
was possible. To what view of the distribution
of the product of industry economic opinion will
ultimately incline, can not be predicted with con-
fidence. In 1871, Prof. Stanley Jevons, decisively
rejecting the notion of a wage fund, advanced the
proposition that “the wages of a laboring man
are ultimately coincident with what he produces,
after the deduction of rent, taxes, and the interest
of capital.” Upon this statement of the law of
wages, Mr. Henry Sidgwick, in an article in the
“Fortnightly Review" of 1879, remarked as fol-
lows: “It is to be observed that it does not at-
tempt to settle the distribution of produce as be-
tween employers and employed, except so far as
the employer's share consists of interest. That is,
it does not help us to determine what Mill calls
‘the wages of superintendence.” Now, it is just
this latter that, in our practical discussions, usu-
ally appears the most prominent element of the
problem. What English workmen grumble at, is
not the rate of interest, but the undue extra profits
which they suppose the employer to be making.”
Accepting as correct the judgment of Prof. Sidg-
wick, that the one undetermined point in the the-
ory of the distribution of wealth is that which re-
lates to the “wages of superintendence,” the writer
of the present article now proceeds to offer a view
of profits, in their relation to the other shares of
the product of industry, which, if it shall be ac-
cepted as based upon a just generalization of the
facts of modern industrial society, will indubita-
bly yield a complete and consistent theory of dis-
tribution, according to which the laborer, and not,
as by the exploded wage-fund doctrine, the capi-
talist employer, is made the residual claimant upon
the product of industry. — The line of argument
which appears to lead to this momentous conclu-
sion is as follows: The successful conduct of busi-
ness, under free and active competition, must be
due either to exceptional abilities or to exceptional
opportunities. Whether due more to one than to
the other of these causes, could make no differ-
ence with what is to follow; just as it makes no
difference in the matter of rent, whether the ad-
vantages, for productive purposes, of any piece of
land under consideration be due to superior fer-
tility or to proximity to market. As the econo-
mist, in writing of rent, is wont, for convenience
of reasoning and simplicity of 111ustration, to at-
tribute the productive advantages of land solely
to superior fertility, assuming all tracts in ques-
tion to be equally near the market, so, in the fur-
ther progress of this paper, the more or less suc-
cessful conduct of business will be attributed to
the possession of higher or lower abilities, all em-
ployers being assumed, for convenience of reason-
ing and simplicity of illustration, to occupy indus-
trial positions equally eligible. When we shall
have passed over the field, it will then appear that
all our conclusions, upon the foregoing hypothe-
sis, would hold equally true upon the assumption
that all differences in the degree of business suc-
cess were due to differences of industrial oppor-
tunity, and not at all to differences of business
ability. — Since, however, it can not be a matter
of indifference to the social philosopher whether
the power to secure profits be due more to excep-
tional abilities or to exceptional opportunities, it
may be worth while to pause one moment to point
out that the former are much the more efficient
cause of profits. To justify this assertion, it will
be enough to refer to the notorious fact that the
great majority of all business houses in the United
States which have achieved marked success have
been founded by men who owed little or nothing
to opportunity, perhaps by those who had to con-
tend at the outset against positive disadvantages
or actual misfortunes; while, on the contrary, great
houses, enjoying high prestige, wide connec-
tions and vast accumulated wealth, are frequently
brought to the ground, under the successors of the
original founder, for no other reason than that the
management, which had been wise and brave and
strong, became, in other hands, vacillating, pur-
poseless and unintelligent, or perhaps no worse
than merely commonplace and tied to routine. So
overwhelming is the preponderance, in this coun-
try at least, of business houses owing much or
everything to ability, and little or nothing to un-
earned opportunities or advantages, that no Amer-
ican” is likely to dispute the proposition that the
former are much the more efficient cause of prof-
its. – Attributing, then, for convenience, the suc-
cessful conduct of business to ability alone, we
have to note, that, were the number of men of a
high order of business ability throughout any
large community more than sufficient to do all the
business of all kinds which there required to be
* “Many employers of labor,” says Prof. Alfred Marshall,
“in some parts of England more than half, have risen from
the ranks of labor.” Accepting this statement as correct, it
is to be noted, that, in addition to business ability being the
efficient cause of profits, in comparison of the employer with
the non-employer, business ability becomes, in a still higher
degree, the cause of profits, as between the employer on a
large and the employer on a small scale. +
WAGES.
1083
done; were these men, however much surpassing
other members of the industrial society, among
themselves equal in all respects which concern
the conduct of business; and were this class,
thus constituted and endowed, so clearly and con-
spicuously marked that no one of their number
should ever fail to be recognized as belonging to
it, while, on the other hand, no one lacking busi-
ness ability in this degree should esteem himself
Capable of conducting business or be so esteemed,
with a view to his obtaining credit, by those who
have capital to loan or goods to sell: were these
Several conditions to be all completely realized, we
should then have a situation closely analogous to
that which exists in the case of a community
around which is found good land, of uniform
Quality, in amount more than adequate to raise all
the produce required. The result would be, ei-
ther that the employing class would, by forming
a combination and scrupulously adhering to its
terms and its spirit, create and maintain a mo-
nopoly price for their services in conducting the
business requiring to be done, which is so improb-
able as to be altogether out of our contemplation,
or else they would, by competing among them-
selves for the amount of business to be done by
them individually, bring down the rate of profits
to so low a point that the remuneration of each
and every one of this class would be practically
equal to what he could earn for himself in other
avocations, either as an independent laborer, work-
ing in his own shop or on his own lot of land, or,
as a wage laborer, hired by some one of his own
intellectual class, no more qualified in any way
than himself to conduct business. Under such
conditions, profits, as distinguished from wages,
would be destroyed. The persons actually re-
maining in the conduct of business would, indeed,
earn their subsistence—otherwise the function
could not be performed; but, economically speak-
ing, it would make no difference to them whether
they did this as employers or as employed. —In
fact, however, the qualifications for the conduct
of business are not equal throughout all of a suf-
ficiently numerous class. – First, we have those
rarely gifted persons who, in common phrase,
seem to turn everything that they touch into gold;
whose commercial dealings have the air of magic;
who have such power of insight that they almost
appear to have the power of foresight; who are
so resolute and firm in temper that apprehensions
and alarms or repeated shocks of disaster never
cause them to relax their hold or change their
course; who have Such influence and command
over men that all with whom they have to do ac-
quire vigor from the contact, and work for them
as they would not work for others. — Next below,
but far below, the class described, we have that
much more numerous body of men of business,
who possess a high order of talent, merely; whose
Success is easily comprehended, even if it can not
be imitated, by their less gifted competitors; men
of natural mastery, Sagacious, resolute and prompt
in their avocations. – Then, descending further
in the scale, we have men who on the whole do
well or pretty well in business; men who enjoy a
harmonious union of all the qualities required for
the conduct of affairs, though possessing those
qualities each in but a moderate degree; or else in
whom Some defect, mental or moral, impairs a
higher order of abilities; men who are never mas-
ters of their fortunes, are never beyond the im-
minence of failure, and yet, by care and pains
and diligence, win no small profits from their
business, and, if frugality be added to their other
virtues, accumulate in time large estates. – Lower
down in the industrial Order are a multitude of
men who are found in the control of business en-
terprises, for no very good reason that can be seen
by those who know them; men of checkered for-
tunes, sometimes doing well, but more often ill;
Some of them, perhaps, filling a place which would
not otherwise be filled, but more commonly in
business because they have forced themselves into
it under a mistaken idea of their own abilities,
perhaps encouraged by the partiality of friends
who have been willing to place in their hands the
agencies of production, or entrust them with com-
mercial or banking capital. —Now, in my view of
the question of profits, we find, in the lower
stratum of the industrial order, as thus sketched,
a “no profits” class of employers. Notwithstand-
ing all the magnificent premiums of business suc-
cess, the men of real business power are not so
many but that a great part of the posts of indus-
try and trade are filled by persons inadequately
qualified, who consequently have a very doubtful
career, and realize for themselves, first and last, a.
very meagre compensation, so meagre that, for
purposes of scientific reasoning, we may treat it as
constituting no profits at all. Live they do, partly
by legitimate toll upon the business that passes
through their hands; partly at the cost of their
creditors, with whom they make frequent com-
positions; partly at the expense of friends or by
the sacrifice of inherited means. This bare sub-
sistence, obtained through so much of hard work,
of anxiety, and often of humiliation, we regard as
that minimum which, in economics, we can treat
as nil. From this low point upward we measure
profits, just as we measure rent upward from the
line of the no-rent lands, or lands whose selling
price represents an annual interest of only a few
cents an acre. —If the view of the employing class
here presented fairly corresponds to the facts of
industrial society, profits, manufacturing profits,
for example, are, granted only perfect competi-
tion, not obtained by deduction from the wages of
mechanical labor, any more than rent is obtained
by deduction from the wages qf agricultural labor;
and, secondly, manufacturing profits do not con-
stitute a part of the price of manufactured goods,
any more than rent constitutes a part of the price
of agricultural produce. All profits are drawn
from a body of wealth which is created by the ex-
ceptional ability of the employers who receive
profits, measured upward from the line of the no-
profits employers, just as rents are drawn from a
1084
WAGES.
body of wealth created by the exceptional fertility
of the rent lands, measured from the level of the
lands which bear no rent. The normal price of
manufactured goods, of any particular descrip-
tion, is determined by the cost of production of
that portion of the supply which is produced at
the greatest disadvantage. If the demand for
such goods is so great as to require a certain
amount to be produced under the management
and control of persons whose efficiency in organ-
izing and supervising the forces of labor and cap-
ital is small, the cost of production of that portion
of the stock will be large, and the price will be
correspondingly high; yet it will not be high
enough to yield to employers of this grade any
more than that scant and difficult subsistence
which we have taken as the no-profits line. — The
price at which these goods are to be sold, how-
ever, will determine the price of the whole supply,
since, in any market, at any given time, there can
be but one price for different equal portions of the
same commodity. Hence, whatever the cost of
production of those portions of the supply which
are produced by employers of higher industrial
grades, they will command the same price as
those portions which are produced at the greatest
disadvantage, just as wheat produced on rich lands
at a cost of three shillings a bushel is sold for the
same price with wheat produced on comparatively
sterile lands, at a cost of six shillings a bushel. —
Profits, therefore, do not enter into the price of
any commodity; for the price of each and every
commodity is fixed by the cost of production of
that portion of the supply which yields no profits.
— Do profits come out of wages? Not at all. The
employer of the lowest industrial grade, the no-
profits employer, must pay wages sufficient to hire
laborers to work under his direction. The em-
ployer of a higher industrial grade will pay the
same wages, no less, no more; but, selling his
goods, so far as they are of equal quality, at the
same prices as the employer who makes no prof-
its, he will yet be able, by careful study of the
sources whence his materials are drawn; by a
comprehension of the ever-varying demands of
the market; by steadiness and self-control; by
organizing force and administrative ability; by
energy, economy and prudence, to accumulate a
clear surplus, after all obligations are discharged,
which surplus is called profits, just as the culti-
vator of the better soils has a surplus left in his
hands, after paying wages for labor and interest
for capital, which surplus, in this case called
rent, goes to the owner of the soil, as such, be
he the actual cultivator or another person. — It
will have been observed, that, throughout this
discussion, I closely assimilate profits with rent.
I believe this to be a sound and just view of the
origin of profits and of their relation to the other
shares of the product of industry. If this view
shall be approved as correct, the demand of Prof.
Sidgwick will be met, and we shall have, for the
first time since the destruction of the wage-fund.
doctrine, a complete and consistent theory of the
distribution of wealth. By this theory the resid-
ual claimant upon the product is not, as under
the old economic doctrine, the capitalist employer,
but the laborer. Subject to three several deduc-
tions of a definite nature, the wages class will,
upon the assumption here made of perfect com-
petition, supplying all the conditions of a really
good market, receive all they have helped to pro-
duce. — Fºrst. Rent is to be deducted. On the
lowest grade of soils there is no rent. On the
more productive soils, rent, at its economic maxi-
mum, equals the excess of produce after the cost
of cultivating the no-rent soils has been deducted;
this rent, as has been said, does not affect the price
of agricultural produce, nor does it come out of
the remuneration of the agricultural laborer. We
thus see that the first deduction to be made from
the product of industry is of a perfectly definite
nature. Rent must come out before the question
of wages is considered. The laborer, as such, can
not get this, or any part of it, by any economic
means. It must go to the owner of the lands un-
less confiscated by the state, or ravished away by
violence. — Second. From the product of indus-
try must be deducted a remuneration for the use
of capital. That remuneration must be high
enough to induce those who have produced wealth
to save it and store it up, instead of consuming it
immediately for the gratification of personal ap-
petites or tastes. This may imply, in one state of
Society, an annual rate of interest of eight per
cent.; in another, of five; in another, of three.
The only reason, industrially speaking, for inter-
est being paid at all, is, that by the use of capital
production may be enhanced; and the interest so
paid is, theoretically, only a part, often, such is
the force of competition among would-be lenders,
a very small part of the excess of product so gen-
erated. Since the product remaining after the pay-
ment of interest is always, in theory, equal to what
would have been the product had interest not been
paid (that is, had the capital for the use of which
interest is paid, not been employed), and since, in
fact, the product so remaining is always greater
in general, vastly greater—at times inconceivably
greater—than the product otherwise would have
been, we see that that party to distribution whose
claims are residual, that is, which takes all which
no other claimant carries away, is benefited by
every payment of interest on account of capital
used in the production of wealth. Indeed, as
high interest, under free competition, shows that
the contribution made to production through each
successive increment of capital is very large, it
may fairly be said that the residual claimant upon
the product of industry derives a greater relative
benefit through the employment of capital where
a high rate rather than a low rate of interest is
paid. — The third and last deduction to be made
from the product of industry, before the laborer
becomes entitled thereto, is what we have called
profits, the remuneration of the employer, the en-
trepreneur, the man of business, the Captain of
industry, the merchant, manufacturer or banker,
‘‘ WALTHAM SYSTEM.”
WANTS, 1085
who sets in motion the costly and complicated
machinery of modern production. — If I have
rightly apprehended the nature of the employer's
function and the source of his profits, those profits
would, under free and full competition, not form
a part of the price of commodities (price being
determined by the cost of production under the
most disadvantageous conditions, i. e., in this in-
stance, production by the no-profits employers);
while no economic means whatsoever would suf-
‘fice to carry any portion of profits over to wages,
even were employers forbidden by law to receive
them, just as no economic means can be devised
by which rent could be made to enhance wages,
even though landlords were forbidden themselves
to touch it. In other words, profits consist wholly
of wealth created by individual employers, over
and above the wealth which would have been pro-
duced, in similar industrial enterprises, by the same
labor force and capital force, under the control and
direction of employers of lower economic efficien-
cy. — These three shares being cut off, the whole
remaining body of wealth daily or annually pro-
duced is, according to the economic theory pre-
sented, the property of the laboring class: their
wages or the remuneration for their services. So
far as by their energy in work, their economy in
the use of materials, or their care in dealing with
the finished product, the value of that product is
increased, that increase goes to them by purely
economic laws, provided, only, competition be full
and free. Every invention in mechanics, every
discovery in the chemical art, no matter by whom
made, inures directly and immediately to their
benefit, except so far as a limited monopoly may
be created by law for the encouragement of in-
vention and discovery. Every improvement in
their own efficiency as laborers, whether due to
quickened zeal, to heightened intelligence or to
greater industry, sobriety or thrift, will, by this
rule, serve directly to advance their wages. Un-
less by their own neglect of their own interests,
or through inequitable laws, or social customs
having the force of law, no other party can enter,
to make any claim upon the product of industry;
nor can any one of the three parties already indi-
cated carry away anything in excess of its normal
share, as hereinbefore defined. — It will appear,
at a glance, how widely the result here attained
differs from that which was reached under the old
economic theory of the distribution of wealth,
according to which from the entire product of the
exertions and sacrifices of the industrial commu-
nity is cut off, first, rent, as determined by the
Ricardoan formula; secondly, wages, the laborer's
share, as determined by the wage-fund formula, the
amount possibly to be paid in this way being irre-
spective of the number and of the industrial qual-
ity of the laboring class. All that remains belongs
to the capitalist employer. By such a rule of
distribution, no gain in the efficiency of the indi-
vidual laborer, whether taking the direction of
greater energy or of greater economy; no mechan-
ical invention, no chemical discovery, however
much the capability of production may be in-
creased thereby, can profit the laborer anything,
except as it first enhances the profits of the em-
ploying class, and thereby adds to the capital of
the wage fund, to be thereafter expended in pur-
chasing labor. —In opposition to this view, I hold,
that, notwithstanding the formal attitude of the
laboring class in industry, as hired by the em-
ploying class and working for stipulated wages,
the normal operation of the laws of exchange is
to make the former, in effect, the owner of the
whole product, Subject to the requirement of pay-
ing the definite sums charged against the product
on the three several accounts of rent, interest and
profits. FRANCIS A. WALKER.
“WALTHAM SYSTEM,” a term much used
in connection with the manufacture of cotton and
woolen goods during the period from 1814 to 1830.
Prior to the war of 1812, the processes of carding,
spinning, weaving and fulling, were carried on in
separate establishments under different proprie-
tors. But in 1813, in consequence of the inven-
tions of Francis Cabot Lowell, the Boston manu-
facturing company was enabled to combine all
these processes in their establishment at Waltham.
Boarding houses for their operatives, and the pe-
riodical payment of wages in money, in lieu of
payment in provisions and clothing from the fac-
tory store, were also introduced. This system was
soon afterward introduced at Lowell, and soon be-
came general. The advantages of the Waltham
system, alike to manufacturers and workmen, are
too obvious to require explanation. C. C.
WANTS. Man alone, of all animate beings,
possesses the faculty of constantly adding to his
wants, and to the means of providing for them.
This double faculty, in course of time, very ma-
terially modifies human life, and the life of most
organic beings; it completely changes the primi-
tive distribution of the different genera of animals
and vegetables, as well as their respective propor-
tions. It is that faculty which, in the words of
Duffon, “ends by impressing our ideas upon the
face of the earth”; the faculty which has given
our intellect the exercise that has so prodigious-
ly developed its power, and without which the
human mind would have remained but little
above that of the different species of apes. To
this faculty we must also attribute the multiplica-
tion of our race upon the earth, whose spontane-
ous productions would not furnish sufficient sus-
tenance for a millionth part of those who now
dwell upon it. — The faculty of increasing our
wants should always be joined to that of increas-
ing the means of satisfying them, for these two
faculties are inseparable; they stand to each other
in the relation of cause and effect, and the latter
could never act but under the spur of the former;
so that we can not logically deplore, with cer-
tain schools of pretended philosophers, the Con-
tinual extension which is given to human wants
by the onward march of humanity, without at
1086
WANTS.
the same time censuring the increase of the means
of subsistence, and of the goods of all kinds
which the second faculty, that is, industry, has
procured for us. – Of all the publicists who have
maintained the doctrine of the limitation of wants,
J. J. Rousseau is the most radical, and the Only
consistent one; for he is the only One who, look-
ing upon the faculty of extending our wants as
a direful gift, has entirely repudiated, at least in
theory, all the goods whose production is due to
that faculty. According to him, mankind en-
tered upon the path of degradation, from the very
day that they thought of substituting a cabin for
a cave in the rocks and the foliage of trees, or de-
termined to add the bow and arrow to their teeth
or their nails. (Discow's Sur l'originé de l'énégalité.)
If Rousseau had reflected, that, in order to reduce
the human race to this manner of living, it would
be necessary to sacrifice it almost entirely, he
would probably have acknowledged that the ad-
vantage of thus elevating a few rare individuals
to the condition of the Orang-outang, would not
be worth such a sacrifice. — The theorizers of
to-day do not push the doctrine of the limitation
of wants as far as Rousseau did; and, although
they hold the same principle, they assign different
motives for it. They consider the generalization
of the desire for well-being the principal source
of our ills, because it is calculated to develop cu-
pidity, envy and other maleficent motives; and
they would counteract it by inculcating austere re-
ligious tenets, a contempt for the pleasures of this
world, and resignation to present suffering, in an-
ticipation of happiness in a future life. They
think of perfecting man's life on earth by contemn-
ing and despising it. They assure us that the
general observance of their doctrines or precepts
is the best means to secure the tranquillity and
happiness of nations, and of strengthen?ng Social
order. — Unfortunately these modern defenders
of what Bentham calls the principle of asceticism,
do not preach by example. Fully provided them-
selves with all that can satisfy most completely
awakened wants, it ill becomes them to censure
in the impoverished classes the aspiration to a
position more or less nearly resembling their own,
unless they first themselves renounce the advan-
tages of their position. This, however, they do
not do; they very willingly make use of the goods
which they pretend to despise; we generally find
them very anxious to escape privation, and none of
them has yet been able to persuade himself to live
in a Diogenes tub. This contradiction between
their theory and their practice gives ground for
the belief that their faith in the truth and efficacy
of their doctrine is not very lively or sincere, and
this is probably one of the causes of the fruit-
lessness of their preaching. — But even if they
were to join example to precept, as did some of
their predecessors in past ages, they would suc-
ceed no better than did these in inducing man-
kind to live a life contrary to their instincts. We
can not change the nature of things by ignoring
it; it remains what it is despite all our opinions
and all our errors. The soul of man, such as God
made it, and as it manifests itself during the en-
tire time of its union with the body—from the
cradle to the grave—is an ineahaustible source of de-
sires (Frederick Bastiat, Harmonies Economiques);
and a desire is nothing but a seeking for Some Sat-
isfaction, or a shrinking from some pain, that is
to say, a tendency to well-being. — This tendency,
therefore, is essential to the soul; it is as intimate-
ly connected with, and inherent in, our nature, as
the mysterious force which attracts them to the
centre of the earth is to heavy bodies. All that
the will of man can do is to direct this tendency
toward some gratifications rather than toward
others; but we obey them in all our resolves, even
when we constrain present wants in order to en-
joy a future gratification, or impose a hardship
upon ourselves to escape still greater ones, or re-
sist the temptation to a physical gratification with
a view to intellectual or moral pleasure, or even
when we practice the greatest possible renuncia-
tion, and deny ourselves all of this world’s goods.
with the hope of thus obtaining a happy existence
in a better world. — Among the infinite variety of
directions that may be given to our wants, some
are more and some less favorable, some are more
and some less opposed to the perfecting or im-
provement of human life. Thus, for instance,
nations whose desires are too exclusively directed
toward sensual gratifications, soon degenerate, be-
cause it is the nature of such gratifications to
weaken the vigor and manhood of those who
give themselves over to them without restraint,
to degrade their affective faculties, to render
them at the same time less fitted for intellectual
operations, and thus to weaken the principal ele-
ment of our power. But too absolute a repression
of the instincts which urge us to sensual gratifi-
cations would be attended with no less pernicious
results. Whether this repression be inspired by
religious belief, or prompted by the idea—an idea
which bears the impress rather of laziness than of
philosophy—that it is better for man to stifle his
wants than to have to produce the means of satis-
fying them, the inevitable effect will be to degrade
his most precious faculties by allowing them to
remain inactive. For it is to their activity alone
that we must attribute the immense development
which they have acquired, a development which
may be estimated by comparing the most civilized
portions of the population of Europe with the
tribes that have remained almost in their primitive
state of barbarism. — The science of morals points
out to us the reefs upon which our blind tenden-
cies would wreck us; its duty is to show us as
clearly as possible the good or evil courses which
wants may take, by discovering and indicating
to us all the consequences of our inclinations,
whether proximate or remote. Of the many
courses which these inclinations may take, there
is one which will surely lead to our ruin, and oth-
ers which lead as surely to the progressive im-
provement of humanity in every respect. It is
the part of morals to tell us whither these differ-
WAR DEPARTMENT.
1087
ent courses lead, in order that, while obeying the
irresistible impulse of our nature to seek after
well-being, we may be less exposed to losing our
way. — In the present state of science this mis-
sion of morals is scarcely even outlined, and the
only real progress which we have made in this re-
spect for over a century, is due to political econo-
my.— But, although political economy has thrown
a great deal of light upon the consequences of
some of the tendencies and habits of mankind
taken collectively, its object is not so much to influ-
ence us in the direction of our wants as to enlight-
en us on the general means of insuring their sat-
isfaction. It is for this reason that it takes these
wants as they are, and recognizes utility in every-
thing which they cause us to seek, without stop-
ping to examine whether they are rational or not.
Those who find fault with it for proceeding in this
manner, do not realize that it could not act other-
wise without extending its field of investigation
beyond measure; that it could not furnish suitable
rules to guide us in the choice of our satisfactions,
and in the development of our inclinations and
tastes, without creating out of whole cloth a sci-
ence which does not exist. The principles of po-
litical economy are in every way independent of
the direction our wants take, and they will be
none the less true and useful when the progress
of morality shall have made the general wants of
man better understood, and more strictly conform-
able to well-being and the perfection of life than
they are at present. The natural laws of produc-
tion, distribution and consumption of the objects
*Of Our wants remain the same, no matter what
the nature of the satisfactions which these objects
procure, and independently of the favorable or
injurious results which the habit of these gratifi-
cations may have upon individuals and nations.
It is with the principles of political economy as
with those of mechanics: they remain the same
whether applied to the creation of an implement
of warfare—an instrument of death and destruc-
tion—or suggesting rules for the better employ-
ment of the forces employed in the production of
means of subsistence. Thus, for instance, the prin-
ciples of political economy are as well adapted to
point out to the Savages of North America the gen-
eral means of obtaining abundantly the alcoholic
wants which degrade and kill them, as they are
to enlighten civilized nations upon the social con-
ditions most favorable to the increase and diffu-
sion of all that can contribute to the improvement
of physical life and of the intellect. —It is never-
theless true that the progress of morality, without
changing anything in the principles of political
economy, must aid in rendering the application
of those principles more profitable; and the realiza-
tion of this truth has led most economists to some
extent into the domain of morals, while they were
seeking to measure the relative extent and merit
of different classes of wants, while they were
combating the errors and prejudices which favor
luxurious and purely frivolous expenses, and con-
demning those which tend to enervate and de-
grade nations. – The wants of nations are never
a fixed quantity; they are constantly varying and
generally progressive; but they are endowed with
Such elasticity, even in what concerns food, that
experience has frequently shown that great varia-
tions may occur in their yearly alimentary produc-
tion without exercising any proportionate influ-
ence upon the number of the population, that the
population may increase without an equivalent
increase in the quantity of products, and that
an increase of general production may coincide
with the stationary state of the population. In
this latter case the wants of each are more fully
satisfied; in the former cases they are necessari-
ly restricted, and there is, consequently, more
suffering.
A. CLEMENT.
WAR. (See DECLARATION OF WAR, BELLIG-
ERENTs, ExCHANGE OF PRISONERS.)
WAR, The Civil. (See REBELLION, THE, in
U. S. History.)
WAR DEPARTMENT. One of the executive
departments of the United States government, es-
tablished by act of Aug. 7, 1789. (1 Stat. at Large,
p. 49.) The head of this department, officially
designated the secretary of war, has charge of all
mattersrespecting military affairs, under the direc-
tion of the president; has custody of all records,
etc., relating to the army, the superintendence of
all purchases of military supplies, the direction of
army transportation, the distribution of stores,
etc., the signal service and meteorological records,
the disbursement of all appropriations for rivers
and harbors and their survey and improvement,
and the superintendence and supply of arms and
munitions of war. The secretary of war is a mem-
ber of the cabinet (salary, $8,000). He is required
to make an annual report to congress, with state-
ment of all appropriations and their expenditure,
contracts for supplies or services, reports of sur-
veys, and of improvements of rivers and harbors,
returns of the militia in the various states, etc. —
The extensive business of the war department is
distributed among ten military bureaus, each under
a chief who is an officer of the regular army, and
receives a salary of $5,000 while at the head of a
bureau. The chief clerk of the department (Salary,
$2,750) has charge of the correspondence and ac-
counts, communicates between the Secretary and
department officers, and has general superintend-
ence of 90 to 100 clerks and other employés at-
tached to the secretary’s office. The adjutant
general of the United States army is at the head of
a bureau of 575 clerks, etc. He issues the orders
of the president and the general commanding the
army, conducts the army correspondence, the re-
cruiting and enlistment service, issues commis-
sions, receives reports and resignations, is custo-
dian of the voluminous army records of the United
States, keeps the muster rolls, and makes an an-
nual report of the strength and discipline of the
1088
WARS.
army. The inspector general, with assistance, in-
spects and reports the condition of the army at all
military posts, as well as the accounts of its dis-
bursing officers.
clerks, etc.) has charge of army transportation,
clothing, quarters, equipage, forage, wagons,
horses and mules, fuel and lights, stationery, hos-
pitals, medicines, etc. He employs and pays
guides, spies, etc., defrays funeral expenses, and
has charge of the national cemeteries. The com-
missary general (38 clerks, etc.) is charged with
the subsistence department, army rations, and
purchase and distribution of the same. The sur-
geon general (463 clerks, etc.) has control of the
medical department, the selection, purchase and
distribution of medicines, records of all wounded,
disabled and deceased soldiers, the supervision of
army surgeons and of the army medical museum
at Washington. The latter contains an extensive
exhibit of specimens, representing the effects upon
the human body of wounds, morbid conditions,
etc., with the complete hospital records of the
army, and a very extensive library of nearly 60,000
volumes. The paymaster general (60 clerks, etc.)
keeps the accounts and disburses the pay of the
army, through a large body of paymasters. The
chief of engineers (17 clerks, etc.) is commander
of the corps of engineers, charged with fortifica-
tions, torpedo service, military bridges, river and
harbor improvements, military and geographical
surveys, etc. The chief of ordnance (36 clerks,
etc.) is charged with artillery and all munitions of
war, prescribing models and modifications of weap-
ons, and their construction, preservation and dis-
tribution to the regular army and to the militia of
the states. The chief signal officer Superintends
the signal service, and the weather bureau, with a
corps of instruction in signal duties, prepares and
issues maps and charts, and publishes daily me-
teorological reports from the numerous stations of
observation, which are afterward consolidated in
permanent form. The judge advocate general, re-
ceives and reviews proceedings of courts-martial
and other military tribunals of the army, and fur-
nishes opinions and reports on questions of law,
etc., to the secretary of war. — The war depart-
ment is conducted at an annual expense for Sala-
ries of $1,936,855 (in 1884), and contingent ex-
penses (including printing) of $340,000. The fol-
lowing is a complete list of the secretaries of war,
with their terms of office :
1. Henry Knox---------------------------- Sept. 12, 1789
2. Timothy Pickering---------------------- Jan. 2, 1795
3. James McHenry ---------------- • * * * * * * * -Jan. 27, 1796
4. Samuel Dexter -------------------------- May 13, 1800
5. Roger Griswold.------------------------- Feb. 3, 1801
6. Henry Dearborn ------------------------ March 5, 1801
7. William Eustis-------------------------- March 7, 1809
8. John Armstrong ------------------------ Jan. 13, 1813
9. James Monroe -------------------------- Sept. 27, 1814
10. William H. Crawford ------------------- Aug. 1, 1815
11. George Graham ------------------------- ad interiºr.
12. John C. Calhoun ----------------------- -Oct. 8, 1817
13. James Barbour-------------------------- March 7, 1825
14. Peter B. Porter-------------------------- May 26, 1828
15. John H. Eaton.-------------------------- March 9, 1829
16. Lewis Cass------------ tº º sº ºn tº º sº, sº ºn m ºn tº gº ºn tº is º -Aug. 1, 1831
The quartermaster general (132
17. Joel R. Poinsett------------------ -------March 7, 1887.
18. John Bell ------------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - March 5, 1841
19. John C. Spencer------------------------- Oct. 12, 1841
20. James M. Porter ----------------- ------- March 8, 1843.
21. William Wilkins---------------- tº gº ºn as as º ºs is Feb. 15, 1844
22. William L. Marcy----------------------- March 6, 1845.
23. George W. Crawford ------------------- -March 8, 1849.
24. Charles M. Conrad ---------------------- Aug. 15, 1850
25. Jefferson Davis -------------------------March 5, 1853
26. John B. Floyd -------------------------- March 6, 1857
27. Joseph Holt----------------------------- Jan. 18, 1861
38. Simon Cameron------------------------- March 5, 1861
29. Edwin M. Stanton ---------------------- Jan. 15, 1862
Ulysses S. Grant, ad int.---------------- Aug. 12, 1867
Lorenzo Thomas, “ ---------------- Feb. 21, 1868
30. John M. Schofield----------------------- May 28, 1868.
31. John A. Rawlins------------------------ March 11, 1869
William T. Sherman -------------------- Sept. 9, 1869
32. William W. Belknap-------------------- Oct. 25, 1869
83. Alphonso Taft -------------------------- March 8, 1876.
34. Jas. Donald Cameron ------------------- May 22, 1876
85. George W. McCrary--------------------- March 12, 1877
36. Alexander Ramsey---------------------- Dec. 10, 1879
37. Robert T. Lincoln ---------------------- March 5, 1881
- - A. R. SPOFFORD.
WARS (IN U. S. HISTORY). I. FRENCH AND
INDIAN WAR. This was the first national war of
the United States, although no such nation as the
United States had as yet a formal existence.
Previous wars had been waged by but one colony
or a few adjacent colonies in combination. They
had been the inevitable Indian wars, such as the
Pequot war in 1637, or King Philip's war in 1675,
waged by Massachusetts and Connecticut, and the
Tuscarora war, in 1711, waged by North and
South Carolina; or conflicts with the neighboring
French and Spaniards, into which the colonies
had been dragged by their connection with the
mother country. Such were King William's war, in
1689–97, in which Massachusetts, Connecticut and
New York united to attack Canada by land and
sea; Queen Anne's war, in 1702–13, in which the
fighting was done separately by South Carolina in
the south, and by New England, New York and
New Jersey in the north ; the Spanish war, in
1639–42, in which the brunt was borne by Ogle-
thorpe and his new colony of Georgia; and King
George's war, in 1744–8, in which all the northern
colonies took part. In the course of these con-
flicts, an increasing community of interests had
brought an increasing number of the colonies to
act together; but none of them had been general,
and still less could any of them be called quasi-
national. The French and Indian war was essen-
tially different from all its predecessors. It was not
provoked by European diplomacy, but continued
for two years in America before war was declared
in Europe. It was not brought on by European
interests, but was accepted by the colonies in de-
fense of their own interests. It was waged by all
the colonies in common, from New Hampshire to
Georgia. In waging it, the first plain distinction.
appeared between Americans, or “provincials,”
and Englishmen. (See NATION.) And, as a part.
of it, the first effort was made to secure a formal
union of the colonies. (See ALBANY PLAN OF
UNION.) — In 1748 the Ohio land company was
formed, as a Virginia and London speculation.
Several of the Washington family were engaged
WARS.
1089
in it, and its object was to develop Virginia's
western resources. The peculiar claims of Vir-
ginia, from the asserted northwest direction of her
northern boundary line, made it doubtful whether
the country around what is now Pittsburgh was
in Virginia or in Pennsylvania. (See VIRGINIA;
TERRITORIES, I.) The Ohio company obtained
from the crown a grant of 500,000 acres in this
neighborhood, and began preparations to make
roads to it through the still unsettled country.
The French colonial empire in America then con-
sisted of two settled territories, in Canada and at
Mew Orleans, the two having about one-tenth the
population of the English colonies, joined by a
line of some sixty forts between New Orleans and
Montreal. Many of these forts, such as Detroit
and Natchez, have since become the sites of flour-
ishing cities. The country through which the line
ran was an Indian territory, with a few French
hunters and traders in addition to the garrisons.
|But the French asserted territorial claims up to
the crest of the Alleghanies; and they naturally
took alarm as the first feeble wave of English set-
tlement appeared over the mountains. In 1749
they sent an expedition through the present states
of Ohio and Kentucky, to bury leaden plates at
important points, with the arms of France graven
on them, to assert possession of the country, and
to warn English traders out of it. In 1752 the
rivals came closer together : the Ohio company
built Redstone old fort (now Brownsville), on the
Monongahela; and in 1753 the French built forts
at Presque Isle, now Erie, and on the Alleghany
to the south of it. Late in the same year, George
Washington, then a young land surveyor, was
sent to Presque Isle by Gov. Dinwiddie, of Vir-
ginia, to warn off the intruders. They declined
to go, and made active preparations to extend
their acquisitions. – The key of the country was
the point at the junction of the Alleghany and
Monongahela, now known as Pittsburgh. All
parties understood its importance. Late in 1753
Dinwiddie bought from the Indians the right to
build a fort there, and sent men to do the work.
Early in 1754 came the conflict: the French de-
scended from Presque Isle, drove away the En-
glish, and finished the fort themselves, calling it
Fort Du Quesne; and the French and Indian war
had begun. The battles, such as the defeat of
Braddock in 1755, and Johnson’s defeat of Dies-
kau, near Lake George, in the same year, were at
first not very creditable to the English and pro-
vincials. Their discordant and inefficient efforts
were easily foiled by the inferior forces of the
abler French leaders. In 1757 Pitt became the
head of the English ministry, and order, vigor,
sense and success came with him into the English
councils. Fort Du Quesne fell the next year, and
Quebec in 1759. During the following year the
various French forts were taken into possession,
and the French empire in America was lost for-
ever. In 1763, by the peace of Paris, Great Brit-
ain was formally vested with the jurisdiction of
the whole of North America east of the Missis-
188 VOL. III. — 69
sippi, the Floridas being ceded by Spain, the ally
of France in the war, in exchange for Havana,
which an English expedition had captured two
years before. Of her former possessions in North
America, France ceded the portion east of the
Mississippi to her victorious enemy, Great Britain,
and the portion west of that river to her partner
in misfortune, Spain. — The persistence of Great
Britain in retaining her conquests from France
in North America, and thus relieving her other
colonies from the constant danger impending from
Canada, was at first sight a great mistake. The
French minister for foreign affairs warned the
British envoy at the time that the cession of
Canada would only clear the way for the inde-
pendence of the original British colonies; and
from 1763 until 1775 French statesmen patiently
watched the fulfillment of the prophecy, and
were encouraged by the unanimous reports of
French agents in North America. It even became
the fashion in Great Britain, after the opening of
the revolution, to attribute the boldness of the
colonists entirely to the cession of Canada. But,
after all, the change of jurisdiction in 1763 can
not thus be made the universal scape-goat: it but
substituted Great Britain for France as an enemy.
Burgoyne's expedition would not have been any
more dangerous to the colonies under a French
than under a British standard. The truth seems
rather to be that the cession of Canada would
have postponed the day of conflict with the mother
country for half a century, if the stupidity of
British statesmen had not brought it to a head in
1775. France, Great Britain and all Europe com-
bined could not finally have balked of its prey
the Anglo-Saxon lust for land; but the cession of
Canada to the mother country satiated it peacea-
bly for the time, just as Napoleon's cession of
Louisiana in 1803 (see ANNExATIONs, I.) satiated
it again for the time. From this point of view
the action of Great Britain in retaining the western
territory would seem to have been as blindly wise
as her subsequent attempt to “govern” the colo-
nies was blindly foolish. — II. See REvolution.
— III. See ALGERINE WAR. — IV. WAR OF
1812. The causes of the ‘‘second war for inde-
pendence,” as the war of 1812 is sometimes called,
are elsewhere given. (See EMBARGo; DEMOCRATIC
PARTY, III.) The internal political difficulties
which accompanied it, and the great development
of national feeling which followed it, have also
been given a separate place. (See CONVENTION,
HARTFORD; NATION, II.) It is designed here
only to give, in some necessary detail, the course
of action which closed it by the treaty of Ghent.
— March 8, 1813, the Russian minister at Wash-
ington, Daschkoff, offered to the American gov-
ernment, by direction of the czar, his friendly
mediation in the war. Madison accepted it, and
nominated, May 29, Bayard, of Delaware (see that
state), Gallatin, and John Quincy Adams, then
minister to Russia, as negotiators. July 19, the
senate confirmed them, except Gallatin, who was
secretary of the treasury: the affairs of the treas-
1090
WARS.
ury were in so critical a condition that the senate
refused to sanction his absence from the country.
Nov. 4, 1813, while the three American negotia-
tors were in St. Petersburgh, one of them uncon-
firmed, Castlereagh wrote to the secretary of state,
declining the Russian mediation, but offering to
treat directly, and suggesting London as the place.
It is supposed that Great Britain, not caring to of-
fend Russia or to allow that country's friendship
for the United States to influence the final treaty,
wished to transfer the negotiations from St. Peters-
burgh. In January, 1814, Henry Clay and Jona-
than Russell were nominated and confirmed as
additional negotiators; and Gallatin, who had by
this time resigned the treasury, was confirmed. —
In August, 1814, the place of negotiation was
transferred to Ghent; and here the five commis-
sioners met Lord Gambier, Henry Goulburn, and
William Adams, on the part of Great Britain.
The time was hardly propitious for peace negotia-
tions. On the 30th of the previous March the
allies had entered Paris in triumph; in April Na-
poleon had departed for Elba ; and the British
government was free to settle accounts with the
upstart people whose ships had won more flags
from her navy in two years than all her European
rivals had done in a century. And so, while ne-
gotiations were going on, detachments of Welling-
ton's victorious veterans were being shipped to
America, there to seize New Orleans and Louisi-
ana, and make possession of them at least nine
points of the final treaty of peace. — Behind the
British negotiators were the clamorous demands
of the British war party and war newspapers, de-
mands rising, in some cases, to the banishment of
President Madison to some convenient Elba. “Bet-
ter is it,” said the “London Times,” “that we
should grapple with the young lion when he is
first fleshed with the taste of our flocks, than wait
until, in the maturity of his strength, he bears
away at once both sheep and shepherd.” Never-
theless, the first demands of the British negotia-
tors must have seemed to them quite moderate.
They were: 1, the creation of a permanent and in-
dependent Indian territory, between Canada and
the United States; 2, that the northern boundary.
of the United States should run along the south-
ern shore of the great lakes; 3, that the United
States should have no forts on the northern fron-
tier, and no war vessels on the lakes, while Great
Britain should not be so restricted; 4, that enough
of the eastern part of Maine should be ceded to
enable the British to build a military road from
Halifax to Quebec; and, 5, that the right to use
the Mississippi, guaranteed by the treaty of 1783,
should be renewed to British subjects, while the
American right to the Newfoundland fisheries,
guaranteed by the same treaty, should be consid-
ered lost by the war. In June, as a last conces-
sion, the American government had allowed its
negotiators to waive the questions of right of
Search and impressment, on which the war had
been begun; but no instructions could cover such
demands as these. They aroused the war spirit in
America, when they were announced there, to a
higher pitch than ever; and the American nego-
tiators themselves lost their tempers. — After four
months of wrangling, a treaty was made in which
not a point of the British demands was granted.
This result can not be attributed to any friendly
feeling between the two sets of negotiators, for
they quarreled unremittingly from the beginning
to the end of the negotiation; nor to any accord
among the American negotiators, for they quar-
reled with one another almost as constantly. Clay
wished to give up the fisheries and save the Mis-
sissippi; Adams wished to give up the Mississippi
and save the fisheries: and Gallatin alone was
busied in keeping the peace among his colleagues
and with the British negotiators. The best expla-
nation seems to be that the treaty was due mainly
to the high tone taken by Russia and Prussia, at
the congress of Vienna, in defense of neutral
rights, and Ilie desire of Great Dritain to eliminate
the United States from possible complications.
Nevertheless, it remains very singular that the
British negotiators should have signed a treaty
without any mention of Louisiana, while the Brit-
ish expedition for its conquest was still in position
before New Orleans, with high hopes of success.
The treaty even provided that “all territory what-
soever taken by either party from the other during
the war, or which may be taken after the signing
of this treaty, * * * shall be restored without de-
lay”; so that the lives of Packenham and his dead
were absolutely thrown away, and their victory
would have gained no more than their defeat. It
is not easy to avoid the feeling that the inside his-
tory of the treaty of Ghent is yet to be written.—
The treaty, dated Dec. 24, 1814, at Ghent, and
ratified by the senate Feb. 17, 1815, was in eleven
articles. The first three provided for peace and
the restoration of prisoners; the fourth, fifth, sixth,
seventh and eighth, for the northern boundary (see
MAINE; NoFTHWEST BOUNDARY); the ninth, for
the cessation of Indian hostilities; the tenth, for the
suppression of the slave trade; and the eleventh,
for the exchange of ratifications. It will be seen
that the treaty did not touch one of the points on
which the United States had declared war. These
had been more practically settled: one frigate bat-
tle at sea was worth more to that purpose than a
host of treaties. – W. THE MEXICAN WAR. The
settlement of Texas by Americans, its secession
from Mexico, its annexation to the United States,
and its admission to the Union as a state, have
been given elsewhere. (See ANNEXATIONS, III.)
Before the annexation Gen. Zachary Taylor was
stationed in Louisiana, then the southwest frontier
of the United States. May 28, 1845, he was Ór-
dered to cross the Sabine and take post in Tex-
as, so as to protect it from invasion by Mexico.
The apprehended invasion by Mexico did not take
place; and, though diplomatic intercourse between
Mexico and the United States was interrupted, war
did not follow. Corpus Christi, on the western
bank of the Nueces, was then the advanced Texas
town; and here Taylor made his headquarters for
WARS.
1091
the rest of the year. The territory between the
Nueces and the Rio Grande, a desert in the east
but fertile in the west, had been claimed by Texas,
but never reduced to possession. During the sum-
mer several dispatches were sent to Taylor, author-
izing him to advance to the Rio Grande if he saw
fit, because of hostile preparations by Mexico, and
ordering him, in that case, not to wait for orders
from Washington. But Taylor, Oct. 4, in a long
dispatch declared that he “did not feel at liberty,
under his instructions, particularly those of July
.8, to make a forward movement to the Rio Grande
without authority from the war department.”
There the matter rested until the following Janu-
ary. — In the meantime, Nov. 9, President Polk
appointed John Slidell (see LOUISLANA) as ambas-
sador to Mexico, in pursuance of an intimation
from Mexico that she would receive a commis-
isioner to settle the Texas dispute. In December
the Mexican government declined to receive Sli-
dell in the character of an ambassador, since such
a resumption of diplomatic intercourse would im-
ply an abandonment by Mexico of the points in
dispute, which had led to the rupture; but the of.
fer to receive him as a commissioner was renewed.
This was refused by Slidell. Soon afterward a
Tevolution in Mexico placed a new government in
power. — Before any of these events could be
known at Washington, but, as Mr. Buchanan, the
secretary of state, admitted, “in anticipation * of
them, an order, dated Jan. 13, 1846, was sent to
"Taylor to advance to the Rio Grande. Taylor
arrived at the river March 28, established his
camp Qpposite Matamoras, and was notified by
Arista, the Mexican general, after a series of angry
‘communications, that he considered war as already
begun. April 26, a party of American dragoons
was captured, with some bloodshed, by a superior
force of Mexicans. As soon as Taylor's dispatch
announcing this event reached Washington, the
president sent a message to congress, in which he
declared that Mexico had “at last invaded our
territory, and shed the blood of our fellow-citizens
on our own soil.” Two days afterward, congress
passed an act authorizing the president to call out
50,000 volunteers; but the gist of the act was in
its short and simple preamble: “Whereas, by the
act of the republic of Mexico, a state of war ex-
ists between that government and the United
States.” The whigs protested against the pream-
ble, as a falsehood, but it was passed in the house
loy a vote of 123 to 67, and the whole bill by 174
to 14. In the Senate the whole bill was passed by
a vote of 40 to 2; five whigs protested against the
preamble, and three refused to vote. War had
thus begun; and, though the whigs had not been
manoeuvred quite into an attitude of opposition
to it, they were for some time thrown into confu-
Sion by their efforts to evade the issue so unkindly
thrust upon them. (See WHIG PARTY.) — The
essential facts and dates of the proceedings pre-
liminary to war have been given above. Taken
as they stand, they might be considered as a case
of blundering into the lucky acquisition of Cali-
into war.
fornia and New Mexico, for President Polk has
not usually been regarded as a very able man.
But von Holst, as cited below, has focused upon
Polk a great mass of evidence going to convict
him of almost Satanic ingenuity in luring Mexico
It must be remembered that the Ore-
gon dispute with Great Britain (see NorthwesT
BOUNDARY) was coincident with the series of
events above given. It is certain that Mexico was
not willing to fight about Texas; and it seems
probable, that, in the beginning, she was no more
willing to fight single-handed for even the dis-
puted territory between the Nueces and the Rio
Grande. The allegation, then, is that the long de-
lay to order Taylor forward was diligently used in
working the dispute with Great Britain apparently
to a war point; that Taylor was then ordered for-
ward; that Mexico, relying on Great Britain as an
ally, incautiously accepted the gage of war; and
that then every point in dispute was given up to
Great Britain, peace was settled with that power,
and California and New Mexico, the real objects
of the war, were squeezed out of the grasp of
Mexico. It has been said above that the array of
circumstantial evidence is strong: and it is impos-
sible to repress a certain feeling of admiration
for the repulsive skill with which the diplomatic
combinations were made, if they were really the
result of design. The times and seasons were
chosen with such consummate adroitness, the ad-
vantages gained by them were pressed with such
resolute persistence, and the whole scheme was
worked out to the end with such a complete re-
pudiation of moral objections to it, that Machia-
velli might have been proud to own it as his
master-piece. Nevertheless, the conviction re-
mains that Polk had not the ability requisite for
the conception of such a plan, and that he was
the creature of circumstances rather than their
creator. The train of events may fairly have the
two interpretations; and, while the first would
have been the more natural in the case of Cardinal
Richelieu, the second is certainly the more natural
in the case of James K. Polk. Given the desire
of the government to obtain California and New
Mexico in case of war, the constant pressure be-
hind it urging it toward war, and its natural hes-
itation to base the war on its excessively doubt-
ful claim to the territory between the Nueces and
the Rio Grande; and a little occasional Suppres-
Sio veri by the president will explain the whole
drift of events without supposing them to be the
result of a carefully elaborated plot. But, if the
reader inclines to accept the first interpretation,
he will find that it is necessary to take Marcy, the
secretary of war, not Polk, as the presiding gen-
ius.-During the year 1846 Taylor first drove the
enemy in headlong retreat over the Rio Grande,
and then followed them and finished the campaign
in Mexico. He captured, in Monterey, an army
nearly double his own numbers, in spite of very
strong natural and artificial defenses. Finally,
Feb. 23, 1847, with less than 5,000 undisciplined
volunteers, he met and routed more than four
1092
WASHINGTON.
times his number, under Santa Anna, at Buena
Vista. In the meantime an overland expedition
from Fort Leavenworth had captured New Mex-
ico; and the Pacific squadron, aided by Fremont
and some irregular land forces, had taken posses-
sion of San Francisco and California. The year
1847 ended the war. Scott, with 12,000 men,
took Vera Cruz, and forced his way up to the
plateau of Mexico before summer set in. In
August and September, he beat nearly three times
his number in a series of brilliant battles around
Mexico, overturned the government, and con-
quered the peace of Guadalupe Hidalgo, Feb. 2,
1848. (For its results, see ANNExATIONs, IV.,
W.; WILMOT PROVISO; COMPROMISEs III.; DEM-
OCRATIC PARTY, W.) — VI. See REBELLION.—
(I.) See 2 Sparks’ Writings of Washington, 478
(for the history of the Ohio company); H. B.
Adams' Maryland’s Influence, 13; 1 Marshall’s Life
of Washington, 2; 4 Bancroft's United States, 106,
460; 1 Draper's Cºvil War, 159. (II., III.) See
articles referred to. (IV.) See 4–6 Niles' Weekly
Register (index under Mediation and Peace); 3
Palmer's Historical Register (1814), 234; 6 Hildreth’s
United States, 530, 544; John Q. Adams’ Works;
5 Pamphleteer; Morse's Life of John Q. Adams, 75
(the best account of the negotiations); 2 Parton’s
Life of Jackson, 37; Ingersoll's Second War with
Great Britain; the treaty of Ghent is in 8 Stat. at
Large, 218. (V.) See 3 von Holst’s United States,
79, 159, 198 (and index); Statesman’s Manual
(Polk's Messages); Jay's Review of the Meanican
War; Ripley’s History of the Mearican War, Ram-
sey's The Other Side (Mexican authorities); 16 Ben-
ton’s Debates of Congress, 64, 215; 9 Stat. at Large,
9 (act of May 13, 1846), and 922 (treaty of Guada-
lupe Hidalgo).- (VI.) See authorities under RE-
BELLION. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WASHINGTON CITY. (See CAPITAL, NA-
TIONAL.)
WASHINGTON, George, president of the
United States 1789–97, was born in Westmoreland
county, Va., Feb. 22, 1732, and died at Mt. Ver-
non, Va., Dec. 14, 1799. In youth he became a
land surveyor, and in the French and Indian war
he was advanced to the grade of colonel and com-
mander-in-chief of the Virginia forces, distin-
guishing himself in Braddock's defeat. In 1759
he married Martha, widow of John Parke Custis;
and the care of her extensive property occupied
him thereafter, though he was for fifteen years a
silent member of the house of burgesses of his
colony. He was a delegate to the continental con-
gress in 1774–5, and the general anxiety to keep
Virginia steady in resistance to the crown induced
his appointment as commander-in-chief of the
American forces, June 15, 1775. Whatever the
motives may have been that governed his appoint-
ment, he very rapidly proved his extraordinary
fitness for the place, and became the great and
central figure of the revolution. The character
of no other public man of the time can so suc-
cessfully submit to microscopic examination.
There seems to have been nothing little in him.
Great in defeat, he was greater still in success,
and the crowning event of his military career was
his surrender of his commission to congress at the
close of the war. (For the events of the war see
the biographies cited below.) — After resigning
his commission, he retired to Mount Vernon, to
put his private affairs in order, and to pursue the
line of investments in western lands to which he
had been attracted during his early military life.
In politics he was most interested in the evident.
and dismal failure of the confederacy. (See CoN-
FEDERATION, ARTICLES OF.) During the revolu-
tion he had been the trusted adviser of congress.
and the state governors, and his correspondence
with former political and military associates
throughout the country now becomes voluminous.
Every conscious step toward the formation of a
new government was submitted to his inspection
and approval, and when the time was ripe he was
almost forced into becoming a delegate to, and
president of, the convention of 1787. In that.
body he said little, but in each case his suggestion
was final. On the subsequent question of ratifi-
cation his influence was still greater. Multitudes.
of voters, particularly in the northern states, who
would have hesitated to accept the legal argu-
ments of the “Federalist,” and similar publica-
tions on either side, supported the new constitu-
tion blindly by reason of their confidence in Wash-
ington's sound judgment, their certainty that he
would not recommend a scheme of government.
which he thought to be of evil tendency, and the
evident fact that the office of president had been
cut to his measure by the convention. Here, as.
in the revolution, there was no getting on without
him; and it is as certain as anything can be that
the existenge of such a character, from 1775 until
1790, changed the whole course of the history of
the western continent, and thus of the world. —
In the elections of 1789 and 1792 all the electors.
voted for him, and he became president. (See
ELECTORAL WOTEs, I., II.) No succeeding presi-
dent has received this national compliment of a
unanimous vote, the one who came nearest to it,
Monroe, being probably the one who least de-
served it. The events of Washington's adminis-
trations are elsewhere detailed. (See JUDICIARY;
CAPITAL, NATIONAL; BANK CONTROVERSIES, II.;
ExCISE ; APPORTIONMENT ; GENET, CITIZEN ;
DEMOCRATIC CLUBS ; JAY's TREATY ; WHISKY
INSURRECTION ; FAREWELL ADDRESS; X Y. Z.
MISSION ; FEDERAL PARTY, I. ; DEMOCRATIC
PARTY, I., II.) He entered office with the im-
possible expectation that parties would be elim-
inated from his government; but his underlying
consciousness that parties already existed is shown
in his careful division of his cabinet offices be-
tween Hamilton and Knox on one side, and Jeffer-
son and Randolph on the other. His expectation
was of course disappointed; the companionship
of Hamilton and Jefferson in the cabinet was, to
use the latter’s own comparison, like that of two
WASHINGTON TERRITORY.
WEALTH. 1093
game-cocks in a pit. As Washington was by na-
ture a sincere, though unconscious, federalist, the
progress of party division drove the democratic
leaders into opposition, and before the end of the
second term all possibility, or even desirability,
of further keeping the peace between the two
parties was at an end. One party had overcome
the prejudices of the people by help of Washing-
ton's name, and controlled the government by the
continuance of the same help. The other party
would have been more than human if it had not
been impatient at finding Washington always in
the way of its attacks upon its opponent. Its
leaders successfully restrained themselves in pros-
pect of his approaching retirement ; but their
impatience is shown by such symptoms as Jeffer-
son's letter to Mazzei, though Jefferson always
denied any intention to attack the president per-
sonally. The more violent members attacked
Washington in plain terms, even accusing him of
drawing more than his salary, publishing forged
letters to show his desire to submit to the king
during the revolution, and calling him the “step-
father of his country.” Their malice undoubted-
ly embittered the closing years of his second term,
and yet it was only one of the symptoms which
showed that the time was past when he was abso-
lutely necessary, and that, having successfully
and strongly built the stage, he must now leave it
clear for the actors.
upon the national heart is proved by the venom
of the impatient and yet helpless politicians. He
might have died in the office if he had wished it:
even after his final decision to retire, two electors
obstinately voted for him for a third term in 1796.
— Washington was slow of judgment, and anx-
Ious to See all sides of a case and to get all possi-
ble opinions upon it, but when lie had foruled an
Opinion or a judgment, it was his own, and he sel-
dom changed it. Most of the state papers which
pass as Washington's were originally written by
other hands, though none of them were given to
the world until they had been revised, digested
and reproduced by him and made thoroughly his
Own. His letters, however, are his own ; and
though their editor has pushed his province of
correcting them to an extreme, no editing can
Conceal the essential nature of the writer as shown
in them. The strong judgment, the good sense,
the calmness and patience, the consciousness of
strength and of the ability to control the strength,
the absolute freedom from self-seeking in any
form, make his letters a monument which will
always justify the instinctive popular estimate of
him. Other men have surpassed him in particu-
lar phases of character and ability; but, in all
phases together, his letters will show that he was
the greatest man the earth has yet seen. — A bib-
liography of Washingtoniana would be altogether
too voluminous for our space. The list of books,
tracts and medals relating to his death alone fills
two volumes, as collected by F. B. Hough in 1865.
Among the lives may be mentioned Marshall's, Ir-
ving's, Sparks', A. Bancroft's, Lossing's, Ram-
The firmness of his hold
say's and Everett's: Custis' Private Memoirs of
Washington, and Rush's Washington in Domestic
Life. See also, Sparks’ Writings of Washington;
1 Statesman's Manual (for his messages); Gibbs’
Memoirs of the Administrations of Washington and
Adams; Trescott's Diplomatic History of the Ad-
'mºnistrations of Washington and Adams; Thach-
er's Life and Military Journal of Washington ;
Griswold's Republican Court ; 2 Pitkin’s United
States; 3–5 Hildreth’s United States; 1 Schouler’s
United States. There is a forcible pen-portrait of
Washington at pp. 77 and 114–126 of Schouler as
cited above ; and in fiction Thackeray has at-
tempted the same thing in The Virginians.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WASHINGTON TERRITORY, a territory of
the United States. Its area is a part of that doubt-
ful portion of the Louisiana cession (see ANNEx-
ATIONS, I.), whose jurisdiction was long a subject
of dispute between the United States and Great
Britain, but was finally decided to be in the former
by the treaty of 1846. (See NoFTHWEST BOUND-
ARY.) It was originally a part of Oregon territory,
and, before the erection of that territory into a
state, was set off as a separate territory by the act
of March 2, 1853. As at first organized, it con-
tained 193,071 square miles, but transfers to Idaho
have reduced it to an area of 69,994 square miles.
Its population, by the census of 1880, was 75,116,
an increase of 213.57 per cent. in the decade pre-
vious. Its capital is Olympia, and its governor
(1880–84) is William A. Newell. — The act of
March 2, 1853, is in 10 Stat. at Large, 172.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WAYS AND MEANS. (See PARLIAMENTARY
LAW.) * -
WEALTH. In the most ordinary acceptation
of the term, the word wealth indicates, and al-
ways indicated, especially when it was applied
almost exclusively to the precious metals, things
having an eachangeable value, but the greater part
of economists have applied it to all useful things,
even to those which are entirely devoid of such
value; but it is always inconvenient in scientific
nomenclature to designate by the same word,
things which differ by essential characteristics,
for such designation invariably causes confusion
and misunderstandings. It might easily be shown
that a great part of the discussions to which some
of the principles of political economy have given
rise, was due only to the two-fold meaning given
to the words wealth and value, which made them
designate both gratuitous utility, that is to say, a
utility acquired without cost or labor, and power-
less to obtain anything by way of exchange, and
the utility obtained by means of labor, and pos-
sessed of an exchangeable value. It will, there-
fore, be of interest to inquire whether the nomen-
clature of politico-economical science would not
be rendered clearer and more precise if it were
once well understood that the words wealth and
1094.
WEALTH.
value designated only utilities of this last kind,
and this is what we shall attempt to demonstrate.
But we must first point out the difficulties which
result from the two-fold scientific meaning given
to these two words, or the lack of precision in the
meaning given to each in the definitions of them by
the principal economists. The intimate correlation
of these two words, and of the ideas which they
awaken, will not allow us to treat of wealth with-
out at the same time treating of value; we will,
however, as far as possible confine our observa-
tions on the latter word to what is necessary in
order to elucidate the question of nomenclature
which we are considering: the other questions re-
lating to the subject are considered in the article
on VALUE. — “Every man is rich or poor,” says
Adam Smith, “according to the degree in which
he can afford to enjoy the necessaries, conveniences
and amusements of human life. But after the di-
vision of labor has once thoroughly taken place,
it is but a very small part of these with which a
man’s own labor can supply him. The far greater
part of them he must derive from the labor of
other people; and he must be rich or poor accord-
ing to the quantity of that labor which he can com-
mand or which he can afford to purchase. The
value of any commodity, therefore, to the person
who possesses it, and who means not to use or
consume it himself, but to exchange it for other
commodities, is equal to the quantity of labor
which it enables him to purchase or command.”
(“Wealth of Nations,” book i., chap. 5.) — From
this we see that Adam Smith at first seems to
consider everything useful as wealth, but after-
ward restricts the qualification to things which
have an exchangeable value. “The word value,”
he says elsewhere, “it is to be observed, has two
different meanings; it sometimes expresses the
utility of some particular object, and sometimes
the power of purchasing other goods which the
possession of that object conveys. The one may
be called value in use, and the other value in ea:-
change. The things which have the greatest value
in use have frequently little or no value in ex-
change; and, on the contrary, those which have
the greatest value in exchange have frequently
little or no value in use. Nothing is more useful
than water; but it will purchase scarce anything;
Scarce anything can be had in exchange for it. A
diamond, on the contrary, has scarce any value in
use, but a very great quantity of other goods may
frequently be had in exchange for it.” (“Wealth
of Nations,” book i., chap. 4.) Here we have the
word value used to express both gratuitous utility
and utility which brings a price. — “Everybody
knows,” says J. B. Say, “that things have some-
times a value in use very different from their value
in exchange; that common water, for example, has
scarcely any value, although very necessary, while
a diamond has a very great value in exchange,
although of very little service; but it is evident
that the value of water is a part of our matural
wealth, which does not belong to the domain of
political economy, and that the value of the dia-
mond forms a part of our Social wealth, which is,
the only wealth within the province of the science.
The word eachangeable is always indispensable,
and included in the values with which political
economy is concerned; it is unnecessary to repeat
it continually, for it is always understood.” (Cours
Complet, t. i., p. 74.) And again he says, “The
value which constitutes wealth is not the arbitrary
value which a person attaches to a thing he pos-
sesses, and which is purely relative to his particu-
lar wants; it is the value given by industry and ap-
preciated by the public.” (Ibid., p. 306.) Thus J.
B. Say understood by value and wealth only what
possesses an exchangeable value, and it was prob-
ably only by the example of Smith that he was
induced to give to gratuitous utility the name of
value in use (valeur d'utilité), or natural wealth.
— Ricardo fully admits the distinction established
by Smith between value in use and value in ex-
change (“The Principles of Political Economy in
Taxation,” ch. i.); however, in a letter to J. B.
Say he maintains that we ought to give the name.
of wealth only to the things which have an ex-
changeable value (CEuvres diverses de, J. B. Say,
p. 410). In turn J. B. Say writes him: “I can
not admit what you and Adam Smith are pleased
to call value in use: what is value in use, if it is.
not utility pure and simple? The word utility is.
therefore sufficient.” (Ibid., p. 409.) This remark
is well grounded, and that of Ricardo is not less.
so. —M’Culloch recognizes that the double mean-
ing given to the two words value and wealth has,
not always been clearly perceived, and that it often
becomes a cause of confusion and error; hence,
from the very beginning of his book, he makes.
it a rule to use the word value to signify only
exchangeable value, and the word wealth only to:
specify products susceptible of appropriation, and
which are obtained only by the use of human
labor, and which consequently are not gratuitous-
ly acquired, but are possessed of an exchangeable.
value. — “When exchanges are introduced,” says
Storch, “the useful things or the values which we
possess may serve us in two different ways: first,
directly, when we employ them in our own use,
and then indirectly, when we exchange them for
other values. Thus, therefore, the utility of things.
is either direct or indirect, and so with their value.
Notwithstanding the difference of expression, this.
distinction is the same as that established by
Smith, for Storch includes gratuitous utility in di-
rect value. — ‘‘What is value? what is wealth?’”
asks Rossi. “If common sense answers these
questions easily, the books answer them in so
many different ways that the critics have reason
to assert they have not been answered at all.
Once more, value is the expression of the relation.
which easists between the wants of man and things.
Wealth is a generic term which embraces all the
objects in which this relation is verified. Every
object that can satisfy a human want possesses a
value. The object itself is wealth. Thus value
and wealth, without being synonymous, are two
expressions necessarily correlative. Value is the
WEALTH.
1095
relation; wealth is the aggregate of all the objects
in which this relation is realized. This is what
common sense tells us, and Science has no right
to depart from common sense.” — It is quite evi-
dent that Rossi confounds here, as in other parts
of his course of political economy, the words value,
utility, etc. It is to be regretted, that, after having
pretended that the books did not at all answer the
Questions which he propounded, he himself ans-
wers them much more imperfectly than those who
preceded him. But the confusion which prevent-
ed him from forming an exact idea of value is due
to the fact that he admitted, with Smith, a value ºn
'use, which is nothing else than utility, and a value
&n eachange, which is the sole value. — Frederick
Bastiat distinguished perfectly utility from value;
utility is what may be called the eaſpression of the
Yelation which easists between the wants of man and
things. Value, indeed, supposes utility, but ad-
mits of still other characteristics. Bastiat distin-
guishes gratuitous utility, that is, the utility we
enjoy without labor or previous effort, such as the
light of the sun, from onerous utility, which is ac-
quired only after a service done. To procure this
latter utility we must first overcome a difficulty
which stands between the want and its satisfac-
tion; we obtain it by means of the effort or service
which by rendering utility onerous prevents it
from being transmitted for nothing, and gives
rise to value. Exchangeable value is the only
value he recognizes; and he clearly demonstrates
that the idea which this word expresses must be
the result of exchange, and was introduced into
the world when two men for the first time agreed
to exchange their services or the results of their
services. (Harmonies Economiques, p. 170, etc.)—
But Bastiat held that the word wealth should be
applicd to gratuitous utility only. IIe distin-
guishes two kinds of wealth : effective wealth,
which comprises all utilities, whether obtained
gratuitously or with the assistance of human
effort; and relative wealth, which consists exclu-
sively of onerous utilities or utilities which have
a price. The more gratuitous utilities increase by
the progress of industry, the more effective wealth
do nations or the whole human race possess.
But the relative wealth of an individual, a family,
or a limited agglomeration of individuals, depends
upon the amount of values which it possesses,
provided the share of the mass of existing wealth,
which they can obtain by way of exchange, is
proportioned to the sum of these values. – If we
had to distinguish in political economy two kinds
of wealth, we would rather admit the distinction
made by J. B. Say, between matural wealth and
social wealth, than that proposed by Bastiat, as
the former seems to us much more exact; but how
can Bastiat, who has so ably proved that ex-
changeable value is the only value, admit wealth
^0ithout value # An examination of his motives
seems worthy of attention, and we hope it will
afford us an opportunity of elucidating one of the
difficult points of political economy. — The “sci-
ence of political economy,” he says, “concerns
itself with the general welfare of men, with the
proportion which exists between their efforts and
their satisfactions, a proportion which modifies to
advantage the progressive participation of gra-
tuitous utility in the work of production. The
science can not, therefore, exclude this element
from the idea of wealth. We may conceive two
nations, one of which has more satisfactions than
the other; but it has fewer values because nature
has favored it, and because it meets with fewer
obstacles: which is the richer of the two 2 Nay
more, let us take the same people at two different
epochs: the obstacles which it has to overcome
are the same; but to-day it surmounts them with
such facility (it effects, for instance, the transporta-
tion of its merchandise, carries on its labor and
manufactures with so little effort) that values are, in
consequence, considerably reduced. It may there-
fore adopt either of these two courses, remain
content with the same satisfactions as formerly,
and turn its progress into leisure. Can its wealth
in this case be said to be retrograde, because
that wealth possesses less value 2 Or it may de-
vote its unemployed efforts to increase its enjoy-
ments. In this latter case can we conclude that
because the sum of the values of that people has
remained stationary, its wealth has remained
stationary also 2 This is a momentous question
for political economy. Should it measure wealth
by the satisfactions realized or by the values cre-
ated?” (Harmonies Hºconom?gues, p. 234.) — This
is really a very specious argument, and One which,
if we are not mistaken, will appear unanswerable
to many economists; and yet we believe we can
show that all this argumentation is based upon
an incomplete notion of value, and forgetfulness
of some of its essential characteristics. The ques-
tion is an important one. Is it true, as Bastial,
asserts, that a people who by its progress in indus-
try is enabled to procure the same satisfactions as
formerly with less labor, thereby reduce the sum
of these values? Or is it true that the latter re-
main stationary, if this same people, continuing to
work as much as formerly, obtain more products?
Let us see. — How is the value of a product, of a
Service, or of an aggregate of products and services,
measured? By the quantity of all other objects having
a price which they enable one to obtain in eachange
for them. This is an axiom of political economy
which has never been contested. — Let us now
suppose that a people has, without greater effort
or more human labor than formerly, succeeded in
doubling the quantity of the products of all kinds
which minister to its wants: we are told that then
the value of these products, although their quan-
tity has been doubled, has not been increased;
but what is there to base such an assertion on ?
How is the value of the products measured before
and after the doubling # If we measure it as we
should do, by the quantity of all objects having
a price which each class of products enables us to
obtain in exchange, we shall inevitably find that
in doubling the quantity of all the products we
have likewise doubled their total value, since
1096
WEALTH.
each class of products can be exchanged against
a double quantity of all the others. But it is said
that this double quantity will have no greater
value than the single quantity had before. How
is this possible? We ask again, what is there to
base such an assertion on? Since the value of an
object can not be better measured than by the
quantity of all other objects having a price which
can be obtained in exchange for it, is it not plain
that a class of products, which, because it has been
doubled at the same time that all others have been
doubled, enables us to obtain, in exchange, the
double of the latter, has doubled in value as well
as in quantity? What misleads the mind, and
prevents the clear apprehension of this truth, is
that value is confounded with price, and it is very
true, that if the quantity of money did not increase
during this doubling of the other products, the
price of the latter might have sunk one-half or
nearly one-half; but what clearly proves that it
is not their value which is sunk, is that if we
suppose the quantity of money to have doubled
in the same time as the quantity of all the other
products, we shall see that the price of these
latter, taken as a whole, must have doubled like-
wise. — What next hinders the conception and
acceptation of the truth we have just stated, is,
that many economists continue to suppose, with
Adam Smith, that the value of products is meas-
ured by the quantity of human labor employed in
their creation—an incorrect notion, which has led
to many errors, and which prevents those who ad-
here to it from recognizing the fact that value
may be increased without increasing the amount
of labor. — But the greatest obstacle to a proper
appreciation of the question we are considering
is, in the first place, that it is too easily forgotten
that value is a quality essentially relative, which
can not vary in one object without varying at the
same time, and in an ºnverse Sensé in all others; so
that if sugar or wheat falls in value, all other prod-
ucts necessarily rise relatively to wheat or sugar,
and that if iron or meat rise in value all other
products fall in value relatively to meat or iron ;
and in the second place, that in considering the
value of products the value of the unit is con-
founded with that of the class, and that when the
fall in the value of the unit is observed, that fallis
attributed to the entire class, and it is not remarked
that the decline is compensated for, and often more
than compensated for, by the increase in the quan-
tity, as will appear from the following. It is no-
ticed, for instance, that the use of the knitting ma-
chine enables us to produce a pair of stockings
with half the labor or cost of production that was
needed to produce the same pair of stockings
when knit by hand; it is said that the value of the
stockings has fallen one-half, and this is true so
far as the unit is concerned; but is it equally true
that the total value of the production of stockings
Has been reduced by half, since the introduction
of the knitting machine? By no means, and it is
very probable, on the contrary, that it has more
than doubled; the same is true of the production
i of books compared with that of manuscripts; of
the manufacture of thread by machinery, com-
pared with its production by the wheel or spindle;
of transportation furnished by the locomotive,
compared with that afforded by the peddler. In
these different classes of production, the unit has
considerably fallen in value, but the entire class
represents a value incomparably greater than that
which it possessed before the fall. The value of
the unit of products has been more or less reduced
in Europe since the beginning of the fifteenth cen-
tury in many other branches of production, but
there is probably not a single one which in the ag-
gregate does not furnish a sum of values much great-
er than it was before that reduction. The value
of products taken en masse is therefore far from
being lessened by the effect of industrial progress;
what men detract from the value of the unit, they
far more than restore by the increase of the quan-
tity. This evidently escaped Bastiat in the pass-
age which we have quoted. He believed that a
like quantity of labor could never produce any-
thing but a like sum of values, and that the only
result of industrial progress was to increase gra-
tuitous utility: it is, however, very certain that
industrial progress increases at the same time util-
ity, which has a price; for nobody, surely, would
hesitate to acknowledge that the most industrious
peoples are also the richest in exchangeable values.
Bastiat was imbued with the idea that values
would go on constantly decreasing from the effect
of industrial progress: this may be admitted in
the case of various classes of products so far as
the unit is concerned ; but, so far as the class or
the mass of products is concerned, the effect of
this progress up to the present time has been to
increase its value considerably, and there is noth-
ing which authorizes us to think that it will be
otherwise in the future. — This is not, therefore,
so momentous a question as Bastiat imagined it to
be; it may be boldly affirmed that wealth consists
of objects possessed of exchangeable value, and
that it is proportioned to the sum of those values,
measured as it should be. — Although we realize
how tiresome such discussions are to the mind,
the desire to render them henceforth entirely Su-
perfluous by elucidating as clearly as possible the
questions with which they are concerned, induces
us to beg the reader's attention a few moments
longer. — J. B. Say regarded, as one of the great-
est difficulties of political economy, the solution
of the question: As the value of things possessed
Žs what constitutes wealth, why is it, that, the lower
prices are in a country, the richer that country is?
The question, it seems to us, is not here put in its
true terms; for it would be difficult to show that
the countries in which products have the lowest
prices are always the richest. In certain large
countries, as, for example, in Poland, or in Cer-
tain provinces of Russia, in America, and Hindo-
stan, the principal products (cereals, meat, Wood,
wool, leather, etc.) are lower in price than any-
where else; and yet these countries can not by any
means be reckoned among the richest. It seems
WEALTH.
1097
evident to us that the problem which the illus-
trious French economist meant to propound is
this: “Wealth being made up of the value of things
possessed, how can a mation grow wealthy ºn propor-
tion as it succeeds in lowering the value of its prod-
wets by reducing the cost of their production ?” J.
D. Say answers, that the productive stock of such
a nation has then more value, since the services
which it furnishes are exchanged for a greater
quantity of objects of every kind having a price;
but this solution is incomplete, for it does not ex-
plain why the wealth produced (and no longer the
power of producing) is greater in the country in
which the progress of industry has reduced the
cost of production, and the value of the different
species of products, most. — To give a complete
solution to this question, we must recall, first, that
value is an essentially relative quality, and then
all that we have said above. It results from this
that the lowering of value brought about by in-
dustrial progress, in the unit of a class of prod-
ucts, does not diminish the value of the entire
class, because it is at the very least compensated for
by the increase in the quantity produced, while it
increases proportionately the value of all other
products relatively to that in which it has become
manifest, because it allows these to be exchanged
for a larger quantity of the products whose value
bas fallen. — We repeat, therefore : on the one
hand, there is no reduction in the value of the
class of products in which the fall has occurred,
the increase in the quantity at least compensating
therefor; on the other hand, this fall gives a
superadded value to all other classes of products.
Is not the final result, therefore, an increase in the
sum of values? Thus a fall in the value in the
unit of one class of products, may be perfectly
reconciled with the increase of sum total of values
or wealth. — This shows why we were able to
prove, as we did above, that the doubling of the
quantity of all the products obtained without an
increase of cost or effort, would necessarily double
the sum of their total value, since each class of
products would then obtain in exchange a double
quantity of all the others. —What precedes seems
to us to have provided sufficiently for the solu-
tion of the question of nomenclature which we
proposed to ourselves. The quality which ren-
ders things capable of Satisfying our wants, is
called utility. There are utilities like the air we
breathe, or the light of the stars, which apply
themselves to our wants, without requiring the
least preparation or previous effort on our part;
moreover, they are not susceptible of private or
exclusive appropriation, being equally at the dis-
posal of all. We agree with Bastiat, in classing
all the utilities of this sort under the denomina-
tion of gratuitous utility. Others can not be ap-
plied to our wants except after some service per-
formed by us; they become the property of those
who have furnished that service, and they are en-
dowed with a quality which enables their posses-
SOr to obtain other utilities of the same class, but
Of varied species, when he wishes to exchange
them. This is the quality which is expressed by
the word value. This class of utilities may be
comprised under the general term of utility having
a price.—Value exists only by labor and exchange;
the value of any particular object is measured, not
by the quantity of labor employed in producing
it, but by the quantity of all the other objects having
a price which can be obtained in eachange for it. —
It is only the utility which has a price that con-
stitutes wealth. The only politico-economical dif-
ference between the words wealth and value is,
that the latter designates a quality, as Rossi has
remarked, while the word wealth indicates the ob-
ject in which that quality resides. – There is no
value but exchangeable value: what many econo-
mists have called value in use is only utility. For
an object to possess an exchangeable value, it is
not indispensable, as Rossi supposes, that it be in
circulation, that is to say, offered in exchange; it
suffices that it be recognized to have some value
if it be offered for sale; thus public monuments,
or the clothes we wear, although they are not
offered in exchange, still possess an exchangeable
value. — There is no wealth but that which con-
sists in objects possessing utility having a price.
What J. B. Say calls natural wealth is only gratu-
Žtous utility. —When industrial progress enables
us without more labor or effort to obtain greater
quantities of objects that possess utility having a
price, no fall in the sum of values takes place in
consequence; for the reduction in value of the
unit of the product in which that progress is
realized, is immediately compensated for by the
additional value acquired, relatively to this ob-
ject, by all the other products for which it may
be exchanged. On the contrary, the result is that
the sum of values is increased proportionately to
the surplus obtained in the quantity of products;
this we think we have fully demonstrated. —
Wealth, therefore, is really proportionate to the
sum total of values, and this sum is itself propor-
tionate to the quantity of products of all kinds,
and, consequently, to the amount of gratifications
we are able to procure. — The progress of indus-
try, the increase of our power over natural agents,
have not, therefore, as Bastiat supposes, the effect
of reducing the sum of the utility which has a
price. On the contrary, that progress increases it
in proportion as it enables us to increase the ob-
jects which possess that utility. And this is the
reason why the nations whose industry has made
most progress are also the wealthiest, in the only
legitimate sense of the word, the wealthiest in the
utility which has a price in exchangeable wealth.
—Every reduction in the cost of production, and
in the value of the unit of any class of products,
is none the less a benefit of that industrial prog-
ress; but it is a benefit only because it increases
the units of that class, and because it gives an
additional value to all the other products. – It
seems to us that our propositions relating to
the fixing of the meaning of the words value
and wealth are sufficiently demonstrated.
A. CLÉMENT,
1098
WEIGHTS AND MEASURES.
WEBSTER.
WEBSTER, Daniel, was born at Salisbury,
N. H., Jan. 18, 1782, and died at Marshfield, Mass.,
Oct. 24, 1852. He was graduated at Dartmouth
in 1801, was admitted to the bar in 1805, and served
as a federalist congressman from New Hampshire
1813–17. Removing to Boston in 1816, he served as
congressman 1823–7, as United States senator 1827–
41, as secretary of state 1841–3, as United States
senator 1845–50, and as secretary of state from 1850
until his death. (See FEDERAL PARTY, II.; WHIG
PARTY ; Foot's RESOLUTION.) — Webster's first
great success was in the decision of the Dartmouth
college case, in 1819, in which he established the
principle that a charter granted by a state legisla-
ture was a contract, unalterable without consent of
the corporation, unless the power of alteration was
reserved in the charter. This success made him one
of the foremost lawyers of the country; but it was
not until 1830 that he became, by his speeches on
Foot's resolutions, one of the recognized political
leaders of the country. Northern men were ex-
ultant in the belief that their representative had
overthrown Hayne, and thus indirectly Calhoun
also. Southern writers have never admitted this,
their reason apparently being that Webster, as
well as Hayne, admitted the validity of the argu-
ment from authority, on which state sovereignty
(see that title) mainly rests, and that he was un-
able to meet Hayne's, or (afterward) Calhoun’s
arguments from this source. No one, however,
has ever disparaged the brilliancy and force of
Webster's eloquence, and from that time he has
been confessedly the foremost orator of America,
or, as many have thought, of all time. His
speeches have a massive directness which, backed
by careful polish, extent and precision of knowl-
edge, and power of repartee, made them almost
irresistible, and made him an antagonist to be
avoided rather than desired. — A leader so distin-
guished had a right to think of the presidency,
but from 1833 until 1852 this honor was always
just beyond his reach. In 1836 he was nominated
for the presidency by the Massachusetts legisla-
ture, and received fourteen electoral votes. In
1840 he had no chance against the candidacy of
Harrison, as in 1848 he had none against the kin-
dred nomination of Taylor, which latter Webster
publicly declared to be “one not fit to be made ’’:
the whig opposition to both these nominations had
to be concentrated on Clay, and was then unsuc-
cessful. In 1844, all Clay's other rivals being out
of the way, Webster had been discredited with the
whigs by his very creditable conduct in remain-
ing in Tyler's Cabinet to arrange the dangerous
and disputed northeast boundary. (See MAINE.)
As the convention of 1852 drew near, it was evi-
dent that Clay was out of the field, that southern
whigs were suspicious of Seward’s influence over
Scott, and that Webster’s chance was now or new-
er. Under these circumstances his speech of
March 7, 1850 (see CoMPROMISEs, V.) was deliv-
ered, which aroused such intense indignation in
the north. It is difficult to see now why it should
have done so, without taking into account the
general northern wrath against slavery, which was
just coming to the boiling point; and it is difficult
to compare the speech itself with the general
course of political oratory which had preceded it,
without reaching the conclusion that the audience
had changed rather than the orator, and that the
veteran no longer represented the north. If it
was the speech of a candidate, it was unsuccessful.
The Southern whigs, loudly as they had applaud-
ed Webster’s speech, took Fillmore as their choice,
and Webster had but about 30 of the 293 votes of
the convention. His death followed closely upon
this final failure.—See Webster's Works (and Ever-
ett's life of Webster in volume I.); Webster's Pré-
wate Correspondence; Tefft's Webster and his Master
Pieces ; Whipple's Great Speeches of Webster ;
Rnapp's Life of Webster (1835); March's Reminis-
cences of Congress (1850); Lanman's Private Life
of Webster (1856); Curtis' Life of Webster (1870); 1
Choate's Writings; 3, 4 Everett's Orations; 1 Whip-
ple's Essays and Reviews; Parton's Famous Amer-
7cans; Loring's Hundred Boston Orators; 6 Har-
per's Magazine; 31 Morth American Review, 474;
68 ib., 1; 75 ib., 84; 84 ib., 551.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WEIGHTS AND MEASURES. It is with
proposals to adopt the metric system that this
subject now mainly comes up before legislative
bodies; and we shall treat it chiefly in this aspect.
— The English standards for many years subse-
quent to 1760 were a certain brass.weight consti-
tuting a troy pound, and a certain brass bar, the
distance between two points on which, at a tem-
perature of 62°, constituted a yard. Accurate
copies of these were obtained for America in
1827, and have since constituted the standards for
the United States. The English standards were
destroyed by fire in 1834, but were carefully re-
placed ; subsequently the troy pound has been
done away with, and a standard pound avoirdupois.
substituted. The old unit of capacity was the
gallon. It was supposed that a gallon, of what-
ever commodity, ought to weigh eight pounds;
hence the variation of liquid and dry measure,
while the further variation of wine and beer
measure bears an almost exact proportion to the
difference of the troy and avoirdupois pounds.
All these standards are still in use in America,
but are defined in cubic inches; in England the
reforms of 1826 substituted a common “imperial”
measure for all the three. Besides these there are
more than seventy different units in general use,
verified as being determinate multiples or fractions
of some one of these standards. – Up to the end
of the last century the systems in use in other
parts of Europe were equally chaotic, and bore no
relation to one another. Most of them had indeed
their foot and their pound, representing somewhat
the same length or weight; but there was too
much difference in them to be available for any-
thing like exact comparison. — In the year 1790
the French assembly undertook to lay the founda-
tions of a system in which all the parts should
WEST WIRGINIA.
1099
y
have the simplest mathematical and practical re-
lations to one another, and which should rest ulti-
mately upon some fixed natural standard. Neither
of these ideas was new; but they had never—in
modern times at least—been put in practice. It
was at first proposed to adopt the length of the
seconds pendulum as the unit, but finally the ten-
millionth part of the earth’s quadrant was selected
instead, and attempts at determining this were at
once instituted. After some preliminary legisla-
tion the system was established in France in its
present shape in 1799. Its details are familiar; it
is only for us to consider the history of its adop-
tion in different countries, whether sudden or
gradual, and the advantages and difficulties at-
tending the change. — In France itself it was not
carried through with the completeness which the
legislators had expected. The opposition of the
lower classes was so great that Napoleon in 1812
adopted a compromise, returning to a certain ex-
tent to the old names, but making the pound ex-
actly half a kilogramme, and the foot exactly one-
third of a metre. This compromise continued in
use till 1840, when, by a decree passed three years
earlier, the metric system went into effect in its
original form. — The French conquests at the be-
ginning of this century had extended the use of
the system beyond the permanent frontiers of
France. In the Netherlands, both Belgium and
Holland, its use continued without interruption
after the separation from France. Its use for
government purposes continued in parts of Italy;
and its effect was never lost in Baden. A large
part of the states which had been led to introduce
it temporarily under French domination, had
adopted it permanently before the middle of the
century. Neither there nor elsewhere has the
change as a general rule taken place suddenly.
Either the use of the metric system has been op-
tional for a time and afterward made obligatory;
or it has been first introduced in certain depart-
ments, such as coinage, postage, customs, or rail-
way freight charges, and afterward made general;
Or, very commonly, as a transition measure the
old standards of the country have been slightly
modified so as to be commensurable with the
metric system, as in the case of the metric foot
and metric pound above mentioned. The dates of
these changes in different countries are shown by
table in following column, based largely upon the
report of J. K. Upton, 45th Cong., 2d Sess., Ex.
Doc. 71, which contains many additional details.
— The growth of the system has been so gradual
that it is hard to divide it into periods. The de-
cisive points in its history were its partial adoption
by the German Zollverein in 1852; its complete
adoption by Germany and Austria, 1868–76; and
the establishment in 1875 of the international bu-
reau of weights and measures at Paris, with rep-
resentatives of all the leading nations, except
England and the United States; even including
Russia, which has otherwise done nothing in this
direction. — Both in England and in the United
States the metric system is used in scientific work;
Weights and e
* Mºś made Metric System §:
COUNTRIES. º - iº *
Iſa, Ole WI ITITISSIV62. -
Metric System. permissive. obiigatory
Europe, etc.:
Austria------------- (1852) 1871 1876
Belgium------------ 1816 1816 1856
Denmark----------- 1863 1876? 1880?
France ------------- 1813 |.------------- 1799
Germany ----------- 1858 1870 1872
Baden ------------ 1810 -------------- 1831
Palatinate --------|--------------|-------------- 1840
Oldenburg--------|--------------|-------------- (1858)
Great Britain-------|-------------- i 1864 ----------
British India------ 1871 1871 ----------
Greece -------------|--------------|-------------- (1836)
Hungary-----------|-------------- 1873 1876
Italy ---------------|-------------- 1861 1863
Sardinia.----------|-------------- 1846 ----------
Piedmont --------|-------------- 1850 ----------
Venetia ------------------------|-------------- 1869
Holland ------------ 1816 1816 1821
Norway------------|-------------- 1879 1882
Portugal.-----------|-------------- (1860) 1868
Sweden.-------------------------- 1879 1889
Spain --------------|-------------- 1852 1859
Switzerland -------- (1835) 1868 s sº sº gº º sm º ºs &
Turkey-------------|-------------- 1871 1874
Egypt ------------|-------------- 1875 ----------
America
Brazil --------------|-------------- 1862? 1874
Chili---------------|-------------- 1848 (1863)
Colombia ----------|-------------- 1858 ----------
Ecuador------------|-------------- 1856 1866
Mexico.-------------|-------------- 1857 1865
Peru -----------------------------|-------------- j869?
United States-------|-------------- 1866 ----------
Venezuela----------|-------------- 1864 1874
Dates in parentheses denote gradual or partial changes.
and in the United States the smaller coins have
metric weights; but the act making its use per-
missive has had no effect upon ordinary business.
The subject of making its use compulsory has
been agitated in both countries. The British
standard commission, in 1869, while admitting the
desirableness of the change, deprecated hasty leg-
islation in that direction. In 1877 the house of
representatives passed a resolution that the heads
of executive departments be asked what objec-
tions there were, if any, to making the use of the
metric system compulsory. The answers varied
exceedingly in their tenor, but the majority were
decidedly conservative. . The arguments in favor
of making the change as soon as possible are the
practical convenience of the metric system for cal-
culation and business, the confusion of names un-
der the old system, and the importance of common
units in international trade. Against the change
is urged the fact that our present standards are
well established, that the people are satisfied with
them, and that the inconvenience and expense of
a hurried change outweigh any practical advan-
tages likely to be felt at present. They are the ar-
guments of conservative feeling, in a case where
that feeling is unusually strong.
ARTHUR T. HADLEY.
WEST WIRGINIA, a state of the American
Union. Its organization had several peculiarities.
Like Vermont, Kentucky, Maine, Texas and Cal-
ifornia, it had no previous territorial existence;
and, like Kentucky and Maine, it was formed
from a part of a state already in existence. But,
1100
WEST VIRGINIA.
in the cases of Kentucky and Maine, the neces-
sary consent of the legislature of the parent state
was so regularly given that no exception could be
taken to it; while the existence of West Virginia
is based upon a legal fiction by which congress
recognized a revolutionary loyal legislature in
western Virginia as the legitimate legislature of
the state so far as to accept the consent of the for-
mer body to the erection of the new state of West
Virginia. — The manner in which the secession of
Virginia was accomplished is elsewhere given.
(See VIRGINIA.) There had long been a division
of interests and feelings between that part of the
state west of the Alleghanies and the rest of the
state. The former fraction, comprising nearly
one-half the territory of Virginia and about one-
fifth of her population (355,526 whites and 18,371
slaves), was rather a northern than a southern
state in sympathy; its representatives in the Vir-
ginia convention opposed secession; and their con-
stituents supplemented parliamentary by forcible
opposition. Early in May, 1861, a delegate con-
vention at Wheeling declared the ordinance of se-
cession null and void, and summoned a [Virginia]
state convention. It met at Wheeling, June 11,
and two days afterward passed an ordinance vacat-
ing the state offices arrayed against the federal
government. June 20, it elected Frank Pierpont
governor of Virginia. July 2, the Virginia leg-
islature, elected under the convention’s ordinance,
met at Wheeling, and elected United States sen-
ators, who were admitted by the Senate. Aug. 20,
the convention passed an ordinance to create the
state of Kanawha, and this was approved by pop-
ular vote, Oct. 24. At the same election delegates
were chosen to a new convention, which framed
the first constitution, now adopting the name of
West Virginia. This constitution was ratified by
popular vote, April 3, 1862, and in the following
month the legislature, representing the forty coun-
ties of western Virginia, but claiming to represent
the whole state, formally gave Virginia's consent
to the erection of the new state. Dec. 31, 1862,
West Virginia was admitted by act of congress,
the admission to take effect on the adoption of
gradual abolition by the new state (see ABOLITION,
III.); and the state thus became a member of the
Union, June 19, 1863. The whole process of the
formation of the state is a difficult problem in
American constitutional law. It was evidently
revolutionary in the main; but there are many
features in it which go to support Sumner's “state
suicide” theory. (See RECONSTRUCTION.) After
the downfall of the rebellion Virginia admitted
the validity of the formation by beginning suit
in the Supreme court against West Virginia for
the restoration of Berkeley and Jefferson counties;
but the suit was decided against Virginia in 1871.
— CONSTITUTIONS. The first constitution was
framed by a convention at Wheeling, Nov. 26,
1861 – Feb. 18, 1862. It provided that the state
should “be and remain * one of the United States
of America; that only white male citizens should
vote; that the Senate should consist of eighteen
the new state.
members, chosen for two years, and the house of
delegates of forty-seven members, chosen for one
year; that the membership of both houses should
be reapportioned by the legislature after each cen-
sus; that the capital should be Wheeling until
changed by the legislature; that the governor
should be chosen by popular vote for two years;
that the judiciary should be elective; and that no
slave should be brought into the state. The last
feature was changed to a gradual abolition of
slavery as above specified. This constitution also
made an attempt to introduce the township system
of government for local affairs; but the system
was repugnant to the feelings of the people, and
was abolished by the next constitution. May 24,
1866, an amendment was added disfranchising all
persons who had voluntarily given aid and com-
fort to the rebellion since June 1, 1861; and the
provision of the constitution that no one could
hold office unless entitled to vote made the amend-
ment still more sweeping. The capital has since
remained at Wheeling, except from April, 1870,
until May, 1875, when it was located at Charles-
ton. April 27, 1871, an amendment was ratified
by popular vote, striking out the word “white”
from the suffrage clause, and also the disfran-
chising amendment of 1866. —The present consti-
tution was framed by a convention at Charleston,
Jan. 16 – April 9, 1872. Its principal changes were
the increase of the senate to twenty-four members,
chosen for four years, and of the house to sixty-
five members, chosen for two years; a prohibition
of registration laws, and of special legislation in a
number of specified cases; the increase of the gov-
ernor's term to four years (see also RIDERS, VE-
To); and the abolition of the township system.—
BOUNDARIES. The boundaries of the state are
not defined in the constitution, which only speci-
fies the counties of Virginia included within it.
— GOVERNORS. Arthur J. Boreman, 1863-9; Wm.
E. Stephenson, 1869–71; John J. Jacob, 1871–7;
Henry M. Matthews, 1877–81; Jacob B. Jackson,
1881–5. — POLITICAL HISTORY. Until 1870 the
majority of the voters of the state were republican,
and its state officers even of that party. Even in
1860 the republicans had contested two of the
counties, and had given Lincoln a popular vote of
1,929 in this part of the state. When war fairly
began, the republicans, under the name of “un-
conditional Union men,” took complete control of
In 1864 Lincoln received nearly
70 per cent. of the total popular vote; and in 1868
Grant received nearly 60 per cent. But when the
war ended, the return of disbanded confederate
soldiers, particularly in the southern and eastern
parts of the state, introduced a troublesome Com-
plication into politics. At first the dominant party
met this by the disfranchising amendment of 1866,
enforcing it by registration laws and test Oaths,
and suppressing resistance by force. The result
was that in 1869 the number of disfranchised cit-
izens was officially reported as 29,316, the number
of actual voters being about 50,000; and as no dis-
franchised person could hold office, public busi-
WHEELER.
WHIG PARTY. 1101
ness was seriously interfered with in many parts
of the state. The first sign of compromise was
the “Flick amendment,” finally adopted in 1871.
It was supported by moderate republicans and
democrats, as it combined amnesty with negro
Suffrage, and in the struggle over it the democrats,
or “conservatives,” carried the state and the lower
house of the legislature in 1870, and the Senate in
the following year. In 1872 Grant carried the
state by a majority of 2,264 out of a total vote of
62,366; but since that time the state has been so
Steadily democratic that the republicans almost
ceased opposition until 1882, when they elected
one of the state's four congressmen. In 1882 the leg-
islature was composed as follows: senate, twenty |
democrats, three republicans, one independent;
house, forty-six democrats, seventeen republicans,
two independent. — Among the political leaders
of the state have been the following: Arthur J.
Boreman, governor (republican) 1863–9, and United
States senator 1869–75; Wm. G. Brown, demo-
cratic congressman (from Virginia) 1845–9, and
Unionist congressman 1861–5; J. U. Camden,
democratic candidate for governor in 1868 and
1873, and United States senator 1881–7; Allen T.
Caperton, whig member of the state legislature
1853–60, confederate senator 1862–5, and United
States senator (democrat) 1875–6; Henry G. Davis,
democratic United States senator 1871–8; Nathan
Goff, Secretary of the navy under Hayes, and re-
publican congressman 1883–5; Frank Hereford,
democratic congressman 1871–7 and United States
Senator 1877–81; John E. Kenna, democratic con-
gressman 1877–85; and Waitman W. Willey, re-
publican United States senator (from Virginia)
1861–3, and (from West Virginia) 1863–71. – See
2 Poore's Federal and State Constitutions; 2
Hough's American Constitutions; authorities under
VIRGINIA; 3 Wilson's Slave Power, 142; 2 Draper's
Civil War ºn America, 241; Tribune Almanac,
1861–82; Appleton's Annual Cyclopædia, 1861–82.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WHEELER, William A., vice-president of the
United States 1877–81, was born at Malone, N. Y.,
June 30, 1819, was admitted to the bar in 1843,
and served in the state legislature 1850–51 and
1858–9, and in congress (republican) 1861–77.
(See LOUISIANA.) In 1876–7 he was elected vice-
president. (See DISPUTED ELECTIONs, IV. ;
ELECTORAL COMMISSION.) See authorities under
HAYES, R. B. A. J.
WHIG PARTY (IN U. S. HISTORy). I. 1829–
33. From 1801 until after the presidential election
of 1828 the unity of the democratic or republican
party was still nominally unbroken. Membership
in it was So.essential to political advancement that
after 1817 all national opposition to it came to an
end. In 1824 the nomination of presidential can-
didates by a congressional caucus was urged on
the ground that all the aspirants belonged to the
Same party ; and, even through John Quincy
Adams' administration, the “Adams and Clay re-
publicans,” who supported the president, and the
‘‘Jackson republicans,” who opposed him, stead-
ily acknowledged each other's claim to the party
name. (See DEMOCRATIC-REPUBLICAN PARTY,
III.; FEDERAL PARTY, II. ; CAUCUs, CONGRES-
SIONAL.)—Notwithstanding this surface unity,
there had long been a departure from the original
democratic canons, and a break in the dominant
party, which first becomes plainly visible after
the war of 1812. The idea that the people were to
impose their notions of public policy upon their
rulers, and not altogether to receive them from
their rulers, which the federalists had always de-
tested at heart, had now been accepted by all
politicians; but, working under this limitation,
a strong section of the dominant party now aimed
at obtaining, by Jefferson's methods, objects en-
tirely foreign to Jefferson’s programme. This
was particularly the case in the northern states,
where commerce, banking, and the other interests,
not bounded by state lines, on which Hamilton
had depended for the building up of nationality,
were now supplemented by another, manufact-
ures, non-existent in Hamilton’s time. (See NA-
. TION.) All these looked to the republican party
for a support and protection which the laissez faire
of the Jeffersonian theory would have refused
them. It is, then, very significant of the repub-
lican drift that banking was recognized by a na-
tional bank in 1816, commerce by a great system
of public improvements in 1821, and manufact-
ures by a slightly protective tariff in 1816,
strengthened in 1824 and 1828. (See BANK Con-
TROVERSIES, III. ; INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTs ;
TARIFF.) But this was the federalist policy, with
the new feature of a protective tariff, which was
at least rudimentary in the federalist policy; and
the principal difference between the federalists
and the Adams republicans was, that the former
intended to be the guides, and the latter the ex-
ponents, of the people in carrying out the policy
specified. The election of Adams as president in
1824, with his appointment of Clay as secretary.
of state, long denounced as a guilty bargain, was
really the organization of a party, and the work
was only hindered by Clay's angry denials of a
“bargain.” A frank acknowledgment of party
birth, with the complete formulation of its prin-
ciples which was given by President Adams in
his annual messages, would have brought an in-
telligent support; the attempt to retain Jefferson's
| party name for the Adams faction only served
to call attention to their complete departure from
Jefferson’s theory, and thus repelled every voter
to whom “republicanism '' was still the touch-
stone of politics. – It was not until toward the
end of Adams' term of office that any of his fol-
lowers began to take the step which should have
been taken at first, and assumed the name of
“national republicans.” Even when it was as-
sumed, the assumption was only tentative, and
was confined to a few northern and eastern news-
papers. To the mass of the Adams party the
struggle still seemed to be only one between two
1102
WHIG PARTY.
wińgs of the same party, and the result of the
election of 1828 showed which of the two seemed
the better “republicans” to the country at large.
Adams' electoral vote was that of the old federal
party, the vote of the New England states, New
Jersey and Delaware, sixteen of New York’s
thirty-six votes, and six of Maryland's eleven
votes. But the popular vote showed a wider
strength than the federalists had ever had. Jack-
son's majority was but 508 out of 8,702 votes in
Louisiana, a state whose sugar-planting interest
was always to incline it toward a protective tariff;
4,201 out of 130,993 votes in Ohio, where New
England immigration and ideas were strong; in
North Carolina and Virginia 30 per cent. of the
popular vote was for Adams; and his total popu-
lar vote, in spite of the practical unanimity of
most of the southern states, was 509,097 to 647,231
for Jackson. This was at least an encouraging
growth for a party which as yet aimed at a total
reversal of the republican policy while retaining
the republican name. — The year after Jackson's
inauguration was one of sudden political quiet.
The newspapers of the year were busied mainly
with internal improvements, the first struggle of
the railroad toward existence, and the growth of
manufactures. It was not until the beginning of
the year 1830 that Jackson's drift against the
bank, the protective tariff, internal improvements,
and the other features of the Adams policy, be-
came so evident that his opponents were driven
into renewed political activity. The name “na-
tional republican” at once became general. But
the new party was at first without an official lead-
er. In October, 1828, an indiscreet or treacherous
Virginia friend of Adams had obtained from
Jefferson's grandson and published a letter from
Jefferson, written three years before, which named
Adams as the authority for the allegation of a
federalist secession scheme in 1808. (See EM-
BARGO, SECESSION.) Adams’ newspaper Organ,
the “National Intelligencer,” at once confirmed
Jefferson’s statement, with some corrections, and
asserted that the president had known in 1808,
“from unequivocal evidence, although not prova-
ble in a court of law,” that the federalist leaders
aimed at “a dissolution of the Union and the
establishment of a separate confederation.” The
former federalist leaders of Massachusetts, or
their sons, at once demanded his evidence, which
he refused to give, and the quarrel died away in
mutual recriminations. Adams' purpose seems to
have been to emphasize his own Original “repub-
licanism *; but he only succeeded in alienating
from himself the legitimate successor of the fed-
eral party. His inability to see that he had cre-
ated a new party cost him the party leadership,
which passed at once to Henry Clay, Adams was
out of politics, and, when he entered the house
again, in December, 1831, came as an anti-masonic
representative; Clay, when he entered the senate
in the same month, came as the most conspicuous
advocate of the Adams policy. Dec. 12, 1831,
the national republicans, in convention at Balti-
more, unanimously nominated him for the presi-
dency, and John Sergeant for the vice-presidency.
No platform was adopted, but an address to the
country formulated the party principles very dis-
tinctly in its attacks on Jackson's policy. May 7
following, a “young men's national republican
convention” met at Washington, renewed the
nominations, and adopted ten resolutions indors-
ing a protective tariff, a system of internal im-
provements, the decision of “constitutional ques-
tions” by the Supreme court, and a cessation of
removals from office for political reasons. The
popular vote of 1832 was proportionally very sim-
ilar to that of 1828; but the electoral vote was
very different. Maine, New Hampshire and New
Jersey were now democratic; the “unit system’’
in New York gave the whole vote of that state to
Jackson; Vermont gave her votes to the anti-
masonic candidates; and the result gave Jackson
219, Clay 49, and others 18. (See ELECTORAL
VOTEs, XII.) Something was evidently lacking.
Support of the United States bank (see BANK
CONTROVERSIES, III.) helped the party in the
middle and eastern states, but worked against it
in the south and west. Support of a protective
tariff helped the party in the middle and eastern
states, where manufactures flourished, and grow-
ers of wool, flax and hemp desired a market in
their own neighborhood, but again it exerted
an unfavorable influence in the south and west.
Too impatient to trust to time and argument
for a natural increase of their national vote, and
hardly willing to trust to a general system of
purchase by “internal improvements’ alone, the
national republicans began, after the election of
1832, a general course of beating up for recruits,
regardless of principle, which was the bane of
their party throughout its whole national exist-
ence. No delegate could come amiss to their
conventions: the original Adams republican, the
nullifier of South Carolina, the anti-mason of New
York or Pennsylvania, the state-rights delegate
from Georgia, and the general mass of the dissat-
isfied everywhere, could find a secure refuge in
conventions which never asked awkward ques-
tions, which ventured but twice (in 1844 and 1852)
to adopt a platform, and which ventured but once
(in 1844) to nominate for the presidency a candi-
date with any avowed political principles. The
“national republicans” formed a party with prin-
ciples and the courage to avow them; their reck-
less search for recruits placed their principles at
the mercy of their new allies, and the bed became
“shorter than that a man could stretch himself On
it, and the covering narrower than that he could
wrap himself in it.”— II. 1833–53. However het-
erogeneous was the mass of dissatisfaction in
1833–4, there was community of feeling on at least
one point, dislike to the president. In South Car-
olina, nullification (see that title) had received its
death-blow from the president's declared intention
to usurp, as the nullifiers believed, the unconsti-
tutional power to make war on a sovereign state;
and the bitterness of this feeling was aggravated
WHIG PARTY.
1103
in the case of their leader, Calhoun, by a prelim-
inary personal dispute with the president. The
nullifiers were thus ready and willing to become
the allies of the national republicans; and it is as-
serted by Hammond that Clay's compromise tariff
of 1833, which gave the nullifiers a road of retreat,
was one consideration for the alliance. The anti-
masons of the northern and eastern states (see
ANTI-MASONRY) had failed to make any impres-
sion in the election of 1832, and in transferring
their national allegiance it was easier for them to
go to the national republicans, whose leader, Clay,
had publicly declared that he had not attended a
masonic meeting for years, than to the Jackson
party, whose leader was a warm and avowed free
mason. In the south, particularly in Tennessee
and Alabama, many democrats disliked Van Bu-
ren as the predestined successor of Jackson. Their
leader was Hugh L. White, and, though his can-
didacy was at first that of a revolting democrat,
his supporters soon came to feel that they were
also fighting against the president and his dicta-
tion of his successor. In Georgia, the state-rights,
or Troup, party, which had ousted the Indians
from the state (see CHEROKEE CASE), had really
been assisted by Jackson, and Opposed by Adams,
in accomplishing their purpose. Nevertheless, as
a sort of connecting link between the nullifiers
and the White party, they became the anti-Jackson
party of their state, though their entrance to the
general alliance was not perfected until 1835–7.
All these elements, indeed, remained in nominally
separate existence throughout the year 1833, though
their approach was daily becoming closer. Jack-
son’s removal of deposits from the United States
bank, Oct. 1, 1833, in defiance of a previous ad-
verse vote of the house (see DEPOSITs, REMOVAL
OF), seemed to the entire opposition such a fla-
grant executive usurpation of power as could not
escape popular condemnation, and the national re-
publican leaders seized upon it as an opportunity
for cementing their new alliances. The task
seemed difficult, in view of the radically different
political beliefs of the two leading elements of the
alliance, and it was only made possible by the per-
sonal character of the opposition to Jackson, and
by the political tact of James Watson Webb, of
New York, in finding an available party name.
His newspaper, the “Courier and Enquirer,” had
originally supported Jackson, and had been driven
into the opposition by the president’s course. In
February, 1834, he baptized the new party with
the name of “whig,” with the idea that the name
implied resistance to executive usurpation, to that
of the crown in England and in the American rev-
olution (see AMERICAN WHIGS), and to that of the
president in the United States of 1834. In reality,
the objects of the name were to oppose a verbal
juggle to the verbal juggle of the opposite party,
to balance the popular name of republican or dem-
Ocrat by the popular name of whig, and to give
an apparent unity of sentiment to fundamental
disagreement. In all these it was successful. The
name “took.” Within six months the anti-masons
and national republicans had ceased to be, and the
whigs had taken their places. In the south the
change was slower. It was not until after the elec-
tion of 1836, in which White was unsuccessful,
that the White and Troup parties fairly took the
name of whigs; and in South Carolina the nulli-
fiers in general never claimed the name, and at the
most only allowed whigs elsewhere to claim them
as members of the party. — In 1836 the party was
entirely unprepared for a presidential contest.
Harrison was nominated for the presidency, as a
“people's candidate,” by a great number of mass
meetings of all parties, and, in December, 1835,
by whig and anti-masonic state conventions at
Harrisburgh, and by a whig state convention at
Baltimore, the former naming Granger and the
latter Tyler for the vice-presidency. Harrison's
politics were of a democratic cast, but he satisfied
the whig requisite of opposition to the president,
while he satisfied the anti-masonic element still
better by declaring that “neither myself nor any
member of my family have ever been members”
Of the masonic Order. Webster was nominated in
January, 1835, by the whig members of the Mas-
sachusetts legislature, but he found little hearty
support outside of his state. White had now gone
so far in opposition that copies of the official .
“Washington Globe,” containing bitter attacks
upon him, were franked to the members of the
Tennessee legislature by the president in person.
The legislature, however, in October, 1835, unan-
imously re-elected White senator, and by a vote
of 60 to 12 nominated him for the presidency.
Soon afterward, the Alabama legislature, which
had already nominated White, rescinded the nom-
ination, having become democratic. The South
Carolina element, having control of the legisla-
ture, by which electors were to be appointed, made
no nominations, and finally gave the state's elect-
oral vote to Willie P. Mangum, a North Carolina
whig, and John Tyler, a nullifier. All the fac-
tions of the opposition thus had their candidates
in the field, and at first sight their discordant ef-
forts might have seemed hopeless. But all the
politicians of the time expected a failure of the
electors to give a majority to any candidate, and a
consequent choice by the house of representatives,
in which the opposition, though in a numerical
minority, hoped to control a majority of States.
These forecasts proved deceptive. Van Buren re-
ceived a majority of the electoral votes, and be-
came president. — Van Buren’s whole term of
office was taken up by the panic of 1837, the sub-
sidiary panic of 1839, and the establishment of the
sub-treasury system in 1840, to take the place of
the national bank and complete a “ divorce of
bank and state.” (See BANK CONTROVERSIES, IW.;
INDEPENDENT TREASURY.). Seldom have so many
alternations in political prospects filled a presiden-
tial term. In 1837 Van Buren entered office with
an overwhelming electoral majority, and his op-
ponents prostrate before him ; and within two
years the whigs “ had the loco-focos at their mer-
cy.” So poor had the administration grown that
1104
whic, PARTY.
Calhoun and his followers ranged themselves with
it again, holding that, the executive was now so
weak as to be harmless, and that the real danger
was from the whigs. Preston, of South Carolina,
and John Tyler, were almost the only leading nul-
lifiers who nominally remained whigs. To bal-
ance this, the White and Troup party had now
come into the whig ranks, the former bringing
John Bell as its most prominent leader, and the
latter John M. Berrien, John Forsyth, Thos. But-
ler King, Alexander H. Stephens, and Robert
Toombs. Before 1840 returning prosperity had
changed the scene. The democrats were now more
than confident: they predicted the dissolution of
the whig party, and declared that they would be
satisfied with nothing less, with no mere victory;
and, to crown the whole, they were completely
defeated in the presidential election of 1840 by
the “moribund” whig party. In the accomplish-
ment of this sudden victory, the whig leaders
have been reproached with an entire sacrifice of
principle to availability, but it is well to remember
that their party was as yet no complete vessel,
but rather a raft, composed of all sorts of mate-
rials, and very loosely fastened together. — Of
the opposition candidates who had been in the
field in 1836 it was evident that Harrison was the
only available candidate for 1840. The whig
party was not homogeneous enough to take its
real leader, Clay, or its perhaps still better repre-
sentative, Webster; nor had it sunk so low in its
own coalition as to take a real democrat like
White. Harrison was the favorite of the anti-
masonic element ; his western life and military
services gave him strength at the west; and, in a
less degree, at the South; and it was possible in the
north and east to keep his very doubtful attitude as
to the establishment of a new national bank under
cover, while laying special stress on his determi-
nation to respect the will of the people's repre-
sentatives in congress, and to spare the veto.
This last point decided his nomination, for the
whig leaders saw that his name would bring votes,
while under cover of it the real contest could be
carried on for congressmen, the actual governing
power under Harrison's proposed disuse of the
veto. And yet it is plain now that the Whig party
was more homogeneous in 1840 than it thought
itself, and that it had a “fighting chance” of suc-
cess under Clay. Its leaders ought to have learned
this, if from nothing else, from the desperate ex-
pedients to which they were driven in the effort to
dragoon the convention into nominating Harrison.
And never was a convention so dragooned. It
met at Harrisburgh, Dec. 4, 1839, and was treated
as a combustible to which Clay's name might be
the possible spark. By successive manoeuvres it
was decided that a committee of states should be
appointed; that ballots should be taken, not in
convention, but in the state delegations; that in
each delegation the majority of delegates should
decide the whole vote of the state; that the result
of each ballot should be reported to the commit-
tee of states; and that this committee should Only
report to the convention when a majority of the
states had agreed upon a candidate. The first
ballot gave Clay 103 votes, Harrison 94, and Scott
57, and it was not until the fifth ballot that the
committee of states was able to report the nomi-
nation of Harrison by 148 votes to 90 for Clay and
16 for Scott. In the same fashion Tyler was
nominated for the vice-presidency on the follow-
ing day. — The “campaign of 1840” was based
entirely on Harrison's popularity and the general
desire for a change, and under cover of these the
whigs carried on a still hunt for congressmen, the
real objects of the campaign. In all points they
were successful. Log-cabins and hard cider, sup-
posed to be typical of Harrison's early life, were
made leading political instruments; singing was
carried to an extent hitherto unknown ; mass.
meetings were measured by the acre, and proces-
sions by the league; and in November “Tippeca-
noe and Tyler, too,” received 234 electoral votes
to 60 for their opponents, and were elected. The
popular vote was nearly evenly balanced. The
whigs had carried New England (except New
Hampshire), New York, New Jersey, Pennsylva-
nia, Maryland, Delaware, Ohio, Indiana, and
Michigan, north of the Potomac; and south of it.
they had carried the “White and Troup party.”
states, Tennessee, Mississippi and Georgia, the
whig states, Kentucky, North Carolina and Louis-
iana, and had made an exceedingly close contest.
in Virginia, Arkansas, Missouri and Alabama.
Evidently, the conjunction of Harrison and Ty-
ler had kept all the elements of the opposition
well in hand. More important still, the new con-
gress, to meet in 1841, had a whig majority in
both houses, though the majority was not suffi-
cient to override a veto. — In spite of its diversity
of opinion, the party had now developed a num-
ber of able leaders, Clay and Webster at their
head, who for the next half dozen years were fast.
giving their party a definite policy, very similar
to that of its most valuable element, the former
national republicans. Among these were, Evans,
Rent and Fessenden, of Maine; Slade, Collamer
and George P. Marsh, of Vermont; J. Q. Adams,
Winthrop, Choate, Everett, John Davis, Abbott
Lawrence and Briggs, of Massachusetts; Truman
Smith, of Connecticut; Granger, Fillmore, Sew-
ard, Spencer, N. K. Hall, Tallmadge, Weed and
Greeley, of New York; Dayton, of New Jersey;
Forward, Meredith and Ingersoll, of Pennsylva-
nia; Bayard, Clayton and Rodney, of Delaware;
Kennedy, Cost Johnson and Reverdy Johnson, of
Maryland ; Archer, Botts, Leigh and W. B.
Preston, of Virginia; Graham, Mangum, Rayner,
Clingman and Badger, of North Carolina; Legaré,
of South Carolina; Berrien, Forsyth, King, Ste-
phens and Toombs, of Georgia; H. W. Hilliard,
of Alabama; S. S. Prentiss, of Mississippi; Bell
and Jarnagin, of Tennessee; Crittenden, More-
head, Garret Davis, Wickliffe, John White and
Underwood, of Kentucky; McLean, Giddings,
Winton, Corwin and Ewing, of Ohio; R. W.
Thompson and Caleb B. Smith, of Indiana; and
WHIG PARTY.
1105
Woodbridge and Howard, of Michigan. Of the
old nullifier element, Rives, Wise, Gilmer and
Upshur drifted off to the opposite party under
Tyler's leadership. — Harrison's sudden death,
and the accession of Tyler, were severe blows to
the rising party, for they placed it temporarily
under the feet of the remnants of its former allies,
the nullifiers, just as it had begun to learn that it
had a policy of its own which nullifiers could not
support. But the whigs themselves, and particu-
larly Clay, made the blow needlessly severe. See-
ing here an opportunity to secure for himself an
undisputed party dictatorship in a war on Tyler,
he declared war and carried it on a l’Outrance. Its
bank details are elsewhere given. (See BANK
CoNTROVERSIES, IV.) In 1842, by the act of
Aug. 30, the whigs secured a protective tariff,
closely following that of 1832, but only after sac-
rificing a section continuing the distribution of
land to the states (see INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTs),
because of which Tyler had vetoed the whole
bill. In the elections of 1842 for the second con-
gress of Tyler's term, the democrats obtained a
two-thirds majority in the house, a result usually
regarded as an infallible presage of the succeeding
presidential election. And yet the whigs do not
seem to have really been weakened. Their con-
vention met at Baltimore, May 1, 1844, the first
and last really representative convention of the
party. For the presidency Clay was nominated
by acclamation; and for the vice-presidency The-
odore Frelinghuysen, then of New York city, was
nominated on the third ballot. For the first time
the party produced a platform, a modelin its way,
as follows: “that these [whig principles may be
summed up as comprising a well-regulated na-
tional currency; a tariff for revenue to defray the
necessary expeluses of the government, and dis-
criminating with special reference to the protection
of the domestic labor of the country; the distribu-
tion of the proceeds from the sales of the public
lands; a single term for the presidency; a reform
of executive usurpations; and generally such an
administration of the affairs of the country as shall
impart to every branch of the public service the
greatest practicable efficiency, controlled by a
well-regulated and wise economy.” Even beyond
the day of election the whigs were confident of
success. But their original ally, Calhoun, had
been for some years at work on a project which
was, directly and indirectly, to dissolve the frag-
ile bond which as yet united the northern and
southern Whigs, and made them a national par-
ty. It seems wrong to attribute the proposed
annexation of Texas (see ANNExATIONS, III.)
entirely to a desire for extension of the slave
area: it seems to have been a subsidiary object
with southern democratic leaders to throw into
politics a question which would cost Clay either
his northern or his southern support, and the
scheme was more successful even than they had
hoped. The popular vote was nearly equal, and
the electoral votes were 170 for Polk to 105
for Clay; but in the former were included the
189 VOL. III. — 70
thirty-five votes of New York and the six votes of
Michigan. In both these states the Polk electors
were only successful because the abolitionists (see
ABOLITION, II.) persisted in running a candidate
of their own. Had their votes gone to Clay, as
they would have done but for Calhoun’s “Texas
question ” and Clay’s trimming attitude upon it,
Clay would have been president by 146 electoral
votes to 129, and a very slight popular majority.
What added bitterness to the disappointment was,
that the democrats had taken a leaf from the whig.
book of 1840, by being protectionist in some
states, and free trade in others; that Polk's major-
ity of 699 in Louisiana was the fruit of about
1,000 unblushingly fraudulent votes in Plaque-
mines parish ; that fraudulent voting and natu-
ralization were charged upon the New York city
democrats; and that Texas annexation had cost
Clay the vote of all the southern states except
Delaware, Maryland, North Carolina, Tennessee
and Kentucky. The consequent bitterness of feel-
ing died away, except in one respect, the foreign
vote and its almost solid opposition to the whigs.
‘‘Ireland has conquered the country which En-
gland lost,” wrote one of Clay’s correspondents
after the election ; and the permanence of this
feeling did much to turn the whig party into the
“native American,” or “know-nothing” party of
after years. — The question of Texas annexation
had not sufficed to destroy the bond between
northern and southern whigs, for, while both op-
posed this and subsequent annexations, the former
did so for fear of slavery extension, and the latter
nominally on economic grounds, but really for
fear of the introduction of the slavery question
into politics. But the war with Mexico gave their
opponents another opportunity, which they used.
The act recognizing the existence of war with
Mexico declared the war to have arisen “by the
act of the republic of Mexico.” The object was
to force the whigs to vote against the war, a vote
much more dangerous to a southern than to a north-
ern whig, or else array the two elements of the
party against one another. The whigs managed
to evade it, however, most of them by refusing to
vote, some senators by adding formal protests to
their affirmative votes; and fourteen in the house
and two in the senate (Thomas Clayton and John
Davis) found courage to vote against the bill.
During the war the whigs voted steadily for Sup-
plies to carry it on, on the principle that an Amer-
ican army had been thrust into danger and must
be supported; so that the democrats made very
little political capital out of it. Indeed, the next
congress, which met in 1847, had a slight whig.
majority in the house, a strong indication of a
whig success in the presidential election of 1848.-
But the “Wilmot proviso” (see that title) had been
introduced, and it was to find at last the joint
in the whig armor. As the effort to restrict slav-
ery from admission to the new territories went on,
it became more evident month by month that it
would be supported by the mass of the northern
whigs, and opposed by the mass of the Southern
1106
WHIG PARTY.
whigs, and month by month the wedge was driv-
en deeper. Men began to talk freely of a “reor-
ganization of parties,” but that could only affect
the whigs, for their opponents were already run-
ning the advocates of the proviso out of their or-
ganization. As the presidential election of 1848
drew near, the nomination of Taylor, urged at
first by mass meetings of men of all parties, be-,
came more essential to the Whigs. The democrats,
after banishing the proviso men, were sufficiently
homogeneous to be able to defy the slavery ques-
tion; no such step could be taken by the whigs,
and they needed a candidate who could conceal
their want of homogeneity. In the north Taylor's
antipathy to the use of the veto power was a guar-
antee that he would not resist the proviso, if passed
by congress; in the south he had the tact which
enabled him to answer an inquiring holder of
100 slaves thus briefly and yet suggestively: “I
have the honor to inform you that I, too, have
been all my life industrious and frugal, and that
the fruits thereof are mainly invested in slaves, of
whom I own three hundred. Yours truly. Z.
Taylor.” And his nomination was pressed harder
upon the whigs by his declared intention to re-
main in the field in any event, as a “people's Can-
didate.” Nevertheless, when the whig conven-
tion met at Philadelphia, June 7, 1848, though
Taylor had 111 votes, Clay had 97, Scott 43, Web-
ster 22, and 6 were scattering. It was not until
the next day, on the fourth ballot, that Taylor
was nominated by 171 votes to 107 for all others.
Fillmore was nominated for the vice-presidency
on the second ballot, by 173 to 101 for all others.
Clay had thus received his discharge from party
service, for he was now over seventy years of age,
and evidently this was his last appearance before
a whig convention. To Webster, also, though
five years younger than Clay, the blow was se-
were, and he publicly declared Taylor's nomina-
tion one which was eminently unfit to be made;
but he and the other northern Whigs finally Sup-
ported the nomination. Taylor carried all the
middle and eastern states (except Maine and New
Hampshire), and, in the south, Delaware, Florida,
Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maryland, North
Carolina and Tennessee, and was elected by 163
to 127 electoral votes. In both the north and the
south he had also a plurality of the popular vote,
the vote for Van Buren (see FREE-SOIL PARTY)
preventing him from having a majority. But the
election of Taylor was in itself deceptive. It
was the result of democratic division in one state,
New York, whose thirty-six votes would have
elected Cass by an exact reversal of the electoral
votes as above given. The division had really
very little basis in principle, but was one of those
contests between national and state party “ma-
Chines” which have always been common in that
state (see NEW YORK); but it sufficed to elect
Taylor, and to give the whigs almost as many rep-
resentatives in congress as their opponents. – The
meeting of the new congress in 1849 showed the
first strong sign of whig dissolution. A half
dozen southern whigs, headed by Toombs of
Georgia, insisted on a formal condemnation of
the proviso by the whig caucus; and when that
body refused to consider the resolution, the
Toombs faction refused to act further with the
party. The loss was not large, but it was the
opening which was very soon to be fatal. All
through the session, which ended with the com-
promise of 1850 (see COMPROMISEs, W.), the whole
body of southern whigs exhibited a growing dis-
position to act together, even in opposition to the
northern whigs, wherever the interests of slavery
were brought into question. On the final votes,
in August and September, 1850, it is practically
impossible to distinguish Southern whigs from
southern democrats. Not that the northern Whigs
generally resorted to anything stronger than pas-
sive opposition: Thaddeus Stevens' suggestion,
after the passage of the fugitive slave law, that
the speaker should send a page into the lobby to
inform the members there that they might return
with safety, as the slavery question had been dis-
posed of, lights up the whole line of policy of the
northern whigs during 1850. They saw only that
action of any kind must offend either their south-
ern associates or their own constituents, and in
either event ruin the party; and like the prudent
man who foreseeth the evil and hideth himself,
they took temporary refuge in refusal to act. —
Such a policy could not be permanent, and yet
most of the northern whig leaders at first thought
that they could at least make its advantages per-
manent; that they could retain their southern as-
sociates by acquiescing, however unwillingly, in
the final decision, and their northern constituents
by their unwillingness to indorse the decision it-
self. Taylor's death, in 1850, and Fillmore's acces-
sion, committed the northern whigs to the official
policy of regarding the compromise of 1850 as a
law, to be obeyed until repealed, and of opposing
any attempt to repeal it as a reopening of the
slavery excitement. Webster's speech of March
7, 1850, which is far oftener reviled than read,
was really only the first declaration of this policy
and one of the least objectionable. But the pop-
ular clamor which it excited was largely an indi-
cation that northern whig leaders were already
out of sympathy with a large fraction of their
constituents. In several northern states Schisms
opened at once, the most prominent instances be-
ing those between the “conscience whigs” and
the “cotton whigs” in Massachusetts, and the
“silver gray” or administration whigs, and the
dominant Seward faction in New York. But the
general spread of any such Schism was not possi-
ble. No new leaders had been developed as yet
to take the place of the old ones, who still held
their hands on the party machinery; reflection,
and the absence of further agitation, made the
mass of northern whigs willing to retain their
southern wing, if the events of 1850 could be tac-
itly treated as a past episode in the party history;
and the first twenty months of Fillmore's admin-
istration went by with a great deal of murmur,
WHIG PARTY.
1107
but no open revolt. While there was no great
disposition to excommunicate men like Seward
and Giddings, who retained whig views on every
subject outside of the slavery agitation, there was
at least a disposition to relegate them to the limbo
of “free-soilers” and disclaim responsibility for
them. — In the spring of 1852 the southern whigs
again intervened to finally break up the party.
For twenty years they had accepted a northern
'alliance mainly as a point of resistance to south-
ern democracy, and they had now consorted with
their old opponents long enough to have lost their
abhorrence of them. As the presidential election
of 1852 approached, they prepared an ultimatum
for the northern whigs which they must have
known meant either the division or the defeat of
the party. At the whig caucus, April 20, 1852, to
arrange for the national convention, a southern
motion was made to recognize the compromise of
1850 as a “finality.” The motion was evaded, as
not within the powers of the meeting, but its in-
troduction was ominous. Northern whigs were
willing to yield to such a recognition, tacitly: to
do so expressly would have hazarded their major-
ity in every northern whig state. But, when the
whig national convention met at Baltimore, June
16, the Southern ultimatum was pressed again, and
more successfully. The platform was in eight
resolutions: 1, defining the federal government’s
powers as limited to those “expressly granted by
the constitution ”; 2, advocating the maintenance
of both state and federal governments; 3, express-
ing the party’s sympathy with “struggling free-
dom everywhere’’; 4, calling on the people to
obey the constitution and the laws “as they would
retain their self-respect ’’; and 7, urging “respect
to the authority " of the state as well as of the
federal government. Of the remaining three, the
fifth and sixth are the last economic declaration of
the party, as follows: “5. Government should be
conducted on principles of the strictest economy;
and revenue sufficient for the expenses thereof
ought to be derived mainly from a duty on im-
ports, and not from direct taxes; and in laying
such duties sound policy requires a just discrimi-
nation, and, when practicable, by specific duties,
whereby suitable encouragement may be afforded
to American industry, equally to all classes and
to all portions of the country. 6. The constitu-
tion vests in congress the power to open and re-
pair harbors, and remove obstructions from navi.
gable rivers, whenever such improvements are
necessary for the common defense, and for the
protection and facility of commerce with foreign
nations Or among the states—said improvements
being in every instance national and general in
their character.” The eighth and last was the
Southern ultimatum, as accepted and formulated
by the recognized northern leaders, the words “in
principle and substance” being interlined in the
draft by Webster at the suggestion of Rufus
Choate. “8. That the series of acts of the 32d
congress, the act known as the fugitive slave law
included, are received and acquiesced in by the
whig party of the United States as a settlement in
principle and substance of the dangerous and ex-
citing questions which they embrace; and, as far
as they are concerned, we will maintain them and
insist upon their strict enforcement, until time and
experience shall demonstrate the necessity of fur-
ther legislation to guard against the evasion of
the laws on the one hand and the abuse of their
powers on the other—not impairing their present
efficiency; and we deprecate all further agitation
of the question thus settled, as dangerous to our
peace, and will discountenance all efforts to con-
tinue or renew such agitation, whenever, wher-
ever or however the attempt may be made; and
we will maintain this system as essential to the
nationality of the whig party and the integrity of
the Union.” This was the famous resolution that
gave rise to the popular verdict upon the party,
“died of an attempt to swallow the fugitive slave
law.” The other resolutions were adopted unani-
mously: this by a vote of 212 to 70, the latter all
from northern whigs. – Three candidates were
before the convention. On the first ballot Fillmore
had 133 votes, Scott 131, and Webster 29. On
the second ballot, the votes for Fillmore and Scott
were reversed, and from this point there was little
change until, on the 53d ballot, Scott was nomi-
nated by 159 votes to 112 for Fillmore and 21 for
Webster. Graham was then nominated on the
second ballot for the vice-presidency. Scott's
availability was much like that of Taylor, less
the latter's popularity: his military services were
great, and very little was known of his politi-
cal opinions. But the whigs were beaten long
before election day. In the north the eighth res-
olution cut deep into the whig vote, and it gained
no votes in the south. For some unintelligible
reason Scott had been the candidate of the anti-
slavery vote in the convention, and he was be-
lieved to be much under the influence of Seward:
the consequent refusals of southern whigs to vote
made the popular vote in southern states noticea-
bly smaller than in 1848. As a result of both in-
fluences the whigs carried but four states, Massa-
chusetts and Vermont in the north, and Kentucky
and Tennessee in the south, and even these by
very narrow majorities. Scott and Graham were
defeated; but 71 whigs were chosen out of 234
representatives in the next congress; 22 of these
were southern whigs, most of whom, like A. H.
Stephens, had publicly refused to support Scott
in 1852, and were soon to be openly democrats;
and the great whig party was a wreck. The
country had no use for it: its economic doctrines
were not a subject of present interest, and on the
overmastering question of the extension of slavery
it could neither speak nor keep silence without
sealing its own fate. — III. 1853–60. For the
first few months of Pierce’s term there Was an
unwonted quiet in politics. New men sought to
build up a new party on the ruins of the Whig or-
ganization by utilizing the old whig feeling against
the foreign vote (see AMERICAN PARTY); and, as
this promised a possible escape from the Slavery
1108
WHHSKY INSURRECTION.
question, the remnants of the whig party in 1856
indorsed the “American ’’ nomination of Fillmore
and Donelson, “without adopting or referring to
the peculiar doctrines” of the party which had
at first nominated him. But, by this time, most
of the former northern whig vote had gone into
the new republican party (see its name) under new
leaders, while a large part of the former whig.
leaders had gone into the democratic party. Thus
the former element gave the republican party its
economic doctrines, while the latter lost all dis-
tinction as it changed its habitat. Still, the whig
remnants lived on in a few northern states until
1857–8, when they were finally absorbed into the
republican party. In 1860 the old whig element
in the border states nominated Bell and Everett
(see CoNSTITUTIONAL UNION PARTY), and was
still strong enough to dispute the southern states
with the ultra democracy; but the outbreak of the
rebellion dissipated this last trace of the once-
powerful whig party. — The history of the party
nominally covers a quarter of a century, 1828–52,
but it must be confessed that its real and distinct
existence covers only about four years, 1842–6,
and that its only real party action was its nomina-
tion of Clay in 1844, with the possible exception
of Clay's nomination in 1831. During all the
rest of its history the party was trading on bor-
rowed capital, and its creditors held mortgages on
all its conventions, which they were always
prompt to foreclose. And yet it had its own
office to perform, for in its members, rather than
in its leaders, was preserved most of the national-
izing spirit of the United States. (See NATION,
III.) In this sense, if we may not altogether ac-
cept the epitaph suggested by one of its leaders,
that “the world was not worthy of it,” we may
at least believe that the nation was not ready for
it. — There is no good history of the whig party.
Ormsby's History of the Whig Party gives so much
space to events before 1824 that only the last 200
pages treat of events thereafter, and the treatment
is itself of little value. Niles' Register, though a
periodical, is about the best record of the party,
though Wilson's Rise and Fall of the Slave Power
is more convenient. The American Whig Review,
published monthly 1844–52, will give the party’s
view of its own work; and 2 A. H. Stephens' War
Between the States, 237, will give the inside histo-
ry of the party's downfall. Its platforms in full
may be found in Greeley’s Political Teat Book of
1860, 11–18. See also 2 von Holst’s United States;
North American Review, January, 1876 (W. G.
Sumner's “Politics in America "); Wise's Seven.
I)ecades; 8–16 Benton’s Debates of Congress, 2
Hammond's Political History of New York; Sar-
gent's Public Men and Events; Clay's Works, Pri-
wate Correspondence, and Colton’s Life and Times
of Clay; Webster's Works, Private Correspondence,
and Curtis' Life of Webster; Adams' Memoir of
John Quincy Adams : Everett's Orations and
Speeches; Seward’s Works; Coleman's Life of
Crittenden, Tuckerman's Life of Kennedy, Pren-
tiss' Memoir of S. S. Prentiss; Choate's Writings,
and Parker's Reminiscences of Choate; Winthrop's:
Speeches and Addresses, Cleveland’s A. H. Stephens:
'n Public and Private; the series of biographies,
in the Whig Review; the antagonistic authorities.
under DEMOCRATIC PARTY; and authorities under
articles referred to, particularly BANK CONTRO-
VERSIES, III., IV. ; DEPOSITs, REMOVAL OF ;
CENSURES ; INDEPENDENT TREASURY ; BROAD.
SEAL WAR; INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTs; ABOLI-
TION; COMPROMISES, W.; FUGITIVE SLAVE LAw;,
AMERICAN PARTY; REPUBLICAN PARTY.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WHISKY INSURRECTION (IN U. S. HIs.
TORY), a revolt against the execution of a federal.
excise law, which came to a head in western Penn-
sylvania and was suppressed in 1794. — The series.
of disorders to which the above general name is.
given, were the outcome of a number of moving
causes. 1. The western counties of Pennsylvania,
Virginia and North Carolina, among or beyond
the Alleghanies, were far removed from the main
body of American civilization. The distance to,
the seaboard was three hundred miles; roads were
few and bad; to secure any profit from grain it
was necessary to convert it into the more portable.
form of whisky; and whisky was the money of
the community, in the general scarcity of cash.
Under these circumstances a tax levied specially
upon the distillation of whisky seemed to the
mountaineers an invidious selection of themselves
for imposition, a singling out of a few counties.
for taxation in order to relieve the richer east. 2.
The people of these counties had been so long ex-
empt from the fetters of the law that they felt the:
first touch keenly. Lying within an area whose-
jurisdiction had long been disputed by Virginia.
and Pennsylvania (see VIRGINIA, TERRITORIES),
they had generally escaped any troublesome inter-
ference from either state. In 1783 the supreme:
executive council of Pennsylvania had sent a spe-
cial agent to remonstrate with “those deluded.
citizens in ye western counties who seemed dis-
posed to separate from ye commonwealth and,
erect a new and independent state.” Canada was.
not far away to the north; Spain not much farther
to the southwest; and between the two lay the
great and unoccupied “northwest territory,” to
the west of Pennsylvania. Who can tell how
many abortive negotiations with agents of one or
the other power, with the erection of a new and
nominally independent northwestern power as an
ultimate object, were never committed to paper,
but died with the backwoodsmen who had con-
ducted them? It is certain that, when Genet (See
that title) reached the United States in 1793, his
infallible instinct for troubled waters at once led
him to send his agents to Kentucky and western
Pennsylvania; and when the last scene in the pres-
ent insurrection was being acted, the more reck-
less leaders showed their hand by urging the for-
mation of a new state. When vague dreams of
empire had been so long cherished, it was intoler-
able that they should be broken in upon by the:
WHISKY INSURRECTION.
1109
‘summons of a federal exciseman, and this sudden
dissolving of frontier independence had very much
to do with the whole difficulty. 3. In any event,
an excise law had always been odious to English
and Americans from the necessary power given to
Officers to enter houses and search. Blackstone
had curtly said that “from its original to the pres-
ent time its very name has been odious to the
people of England”; and Noah Webster's prede-
scessor, Dr. Johnson, had defined it as “a hateful
tax, levied upon commodities, and adjudged not
by the common judges of property, but by wretches
hired by those to whom excise is paid.” The con-
tinental congress, in a proclamation to the people
of Canada, in October, 1774, had warned them
that they would be “subjected to the impositions
of excise, the horror of all free states”; and an
English pamphleteer, long before, had said, “We
know what a general excise is, and can not be ig-
norant that it hath an army in its belly.” The
constitution plainly gave congress power to lay
and collect excises; but it was certain that the ex-
ercise of the power would be difficult and danger-
ous; and the first project of an excise was de-
feated in congress, June 21, 1790. In the follow-
ing year, when the project was revived, the Penn-
.sylvania senators were instructed by their legisla-
ture to oppose such a law, “established on prin-
•ciples subversive of peace, liberty, and the rights
of the citizens.” 4. Complicated with all these
reasons was a political opposition to the excise,
which will be more in place under the main rea-
son for its passage. — Hamilton's reason for in-
sisting upon the passage of an excise law must be
judged from the standpoint of the statesman, not
from that of the financier, though a hope of future
revenues might have been considered. If we take
into account the expense of suppressing the inevi-
table insurrection which it provoked, the excise
cost as much for collection as it produced, and the
sides of its account were fairly balanced. Hamil-
ton had prescience enough to forecast this imme-
diate result, and yet he felt that great gain would
come from the passage of the law. His reason, as
given in the letter to Washington cited below, was,
that it was necessary to assert at once the power
of the federal government to lay excises, which
the people were accustomed to look upon as a
state prerogative, and that “a thing of the kind
could not be introduced with a greater prospect of
easy success than at a period when the govern-
ment enjoyed the advantage of first impressions,
when state factions to resist its authority were not
yet matured, and when so much aid was to be de-
rived from the popularity and firmness of the act-
ual chief magistrate.” But this last paragraph
shows that there was an ulterior design, and that
Hamilton was endeavoring to find the line of least
resistance in exhibiting to the states for the first
time that which had never before been heard of,
“the authority of the national government.”
Heretofore, “authority” had been in the state
governments, and the functions of the national
government, if there ever was any, were to rec-
Ommend, to remonstrate, to soothe, and to bear
rebuffs with patience and becoming humility.
Somewhere the new national authority must be
first brought upon the stage, and no safer or more
undeniably legal opportunity could be imagined
than in the suppression of an insurrection against
an excise law. To assert that Hamilton willfully
Sought to provoke as weak a sedition as possible
in Order to make its suppression easy and certain,
would be a hard saying if his object had been
personal advantage, or if a hecatomb of innocent
victims could be invoked in condemnation of his
plans. But neither was true: not only was the
success of his plan perfect and bloodless, but there
seems to have been no trace of self-seeking in it.
He was playing for high stakes (see NATION), and
he played, as his antagonists did in 1800–1, with
the rigor of the game. That he used opportunity,
the disorganization of the opposition, the consti-
tutional permission to lay excises, and the presi-
dency of Washington, with such skill and effect,
shows only what a master of the game he was. –
Had Hamilton's purpose been plainly stated, to
force an issue on which he could safely introduce
the “authority of the national government’’ to
popular view, the excise law would have received
little support from a people or from politicians
accustomed to regard the states as sovereign and
independent, and the federal government as their
creature. (See STATE SoverEIGNTY.) But he
took one step after another so skillfully that he
ended, as he began, with the almost unanimous
support of the people, who concurred in maintain-
ing a national authority which they had hardly
dreamed of ten years before. Nevertheless, there
were some of the opposition, particularly Jeffer-
son, who detected and vainly endeavored to coun-
teract Hamilton's design. Their failure was one
great moving cause of the rise of the new repub-
lican party (see DEMOCRATIC PARTY, I.), but it
also helped to give the leaders of the new party
the bitter dislike which they always cherished for
Hamilton. That he had forced them to learn new
ideas was bad enough, but it was intolerable that
he should also compel them to kiss the rod to
which they had unwillingly submitted. Their
evident wrath has given some credence to a notion
that some of them had been laying plans for a
general disruption of the Union, and that Hamil-
ton's shrewdness in provoking a premature ex-
plosion had balked them. The only documen-
tary evidence to this effect is in a passage of an
intercepted dispatch of Fanchet, Genet's success-
or, in 1794 (see RANDOLPH, EDMUND), that the
insurrection was “indubitably connected with a
general explosion for some time prepared in the
public mind, but which this local eruption would
cause to miscarry, or at least check for a long
time.” But the Frenchman’s characteristic use
of the word “indubitably,” his failure to support
it by any evidence from Randolph or elsewhere,
and the failure of every other attempt to find any
such evidence, put his passage out of court.
Democratic anger came altogether from the dis-
1110
WHISKY INSURRECTION.
covery that the power of the federal government
must thereafter be considered as a factor in Amer-
ican politics, together with the independence of
the states and of the citizen. They could no
longer say, as was said in congress in 1794, that
their constituents “ love your government much,
but they love their independence more”; for the
federalists could retort, as Tracy, of Connecticut,
did to Gallatin in 1796, that, “whatever might be
the case in other parts of the Union, his constitu-
ents were not of a temper to dance round a whis-
ky pole one day cursing the government, and
sneak the next day into a swamp on hearing that
a military force was marching against them.”
In this alteration of the fundamentals of political
discussion was the head and front of Hamilton’s
offending. — The excise bill became a law March
3, 1791. Little open resistance was made to it in
Virginia or North Carolina, but in Pennsylvania
the agitation was headed not only by violent men,
one Bradford being the most noted, but by abler
and quieter leaders, such as William Findley, then
and for many years afterward a member of con-
gress; John Smilie, also a member of congress
after 1792, and Albert Gallatin. (See his name.)
The first meeting to protest against the law was
held at Redstone old fort, now Brownsville, July
27. Its proceedings were moderate; but another
meeting, Aug. 23, in Washington county, near-
est to the Virginia line, and most disordered,
resolved to consider as an enemy any person who
should take office under the law. Violence could
not but follow this, and it began Sept. 6, with
the tarring and feathering of a revenue officer.
Throughout the winter the disturbance Smol-
dered, but it was so threatening that an act was
passed, May 2, 1792 (see INSURRECTION), empow-
ering the president to use militia in suppressing
disturbances within a state. With it went an-
other act, May 8, reducing the duties. An at-
tempt to hire an office in Washington county for
the revenue officers, in August, led to renewed
disorder, and the president felt compelled to warn
the rioters, by a proclamation of Sept. 15, to
abandon their unlawful combinations. Occa-
sional tarrings and featherings followed through-
out the year 1793, but the law itself was not as
yet very effectively exercised. Early in 1794 the
organization of secret Societies began, coincident
with the introduction into the house of repre-
sentatives of a plan to Secure and collect the ex-
cise duties; and these seem to have made full
preparations for resistance. One great reason for
the popular dislike to this particular law was,
that offenses under it were cognizable only in fed-
eral courts, and that an accused person would
therefore be compelled to journey to Philadel-
phia, at the other end of the state, to answer the
charge. To backwoodsmen this was certainly
no slight grievance; and congress very justly re-
moved it in the act of June 5, 1794, giving state
courts concurrent jurisdiction of excise offenses,
so that accused persons might be tried in their
own vicinage. But while the law was in process
of passage, and before its mitigation could be:
taken advantage of, some fifty writs were issued
at Philadelphia, May 31, against various persons.
in the western counties. These were served in
July; as each was served, the person served joined.
the mob which followed the marshal; the cry
was raised that “the federal sheriff was taking
away people to Philadelphia’’; and the short-lived
whisky insurrection began. The marshal was,
captured, and sworn to serve no more processes;
the inspector fled down the Ohio, and thence.
around through a wilderness to Philadelphia; and
within two days the operation of the law was.
stopped. It is not known who was responsible
for the issue of the writs of May 31, which were
the spark for the explosion. There is no evidence
whatever that Hamilton had anything to do with
it.—The insurgents, two days after the outbreak,
seized the mail from Pittsburgh, in order to ascer-
tain the names of those of their fellow-citizens.
who were opposed to them. A mass meeting was
called for Aug. 1, on Braddock's field. Some
7,000 armed men were present; a county judge
presided, and Gallatin acted as secretary; none,
even of those who disliked the posture into which
affairs were growing, dared to remonstrate; and a
reign of terror was begun, Bradford being the
ruling spirit. Personal violence was offered to
any person suspected of obeying the law, and the
more reckless spirits began active preparation to
call out the whole force of the counties for a
defensive war against the United States. – The
emergency bad now come, and the manner in.
which it was met showed to the dullest under-
standing the difference between the present gov-
ernment and that which had been balked by
Shay’s rebellion. (See CoNFEDERATION, ARTI-
CLES OF.) The federalist members of the cabinet.
instantly advised the calling out of militia; and,
when Gov. Mifflin of Pennsylvania declined to.
take the initiative, the “national authority"
showed that it no longer was absolutely depend-
ent on the state governments. A certificate of the
existence of the insurrection was obtained from
a federal judge; a proclamation from the presi-
dent, Aug. 7, ordered the insurgents to disperse;
a requisition for 15,000 militia was issued to the
governors of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Virginia.
and Maryland; and Sept. 1 was fixed as the date.
for the departure of the troops. A federal com-
mission of three persons, and a state commission,
of two, preceded the troops with offers of am-
nesty on full submission. The mission was ap-
parently a failure. It found Gallatin, Findley,
Brackenridge and the other leaders of standing
engaged in a desperate effort to induce Submis-
sion, but impeded by Bradford and the reckless.
borderers, who terrorized every meeting they at-
tended. Aug. 28, the controlling committee of
sixty met at Redstone old fort. Bradford urged.
armed resistance, but Gallatin, by securing a
secret ballot, obtained a resolution, 34 to 23, to
accede to the proposals of the federal commis-
sioners. These proposals were mainly that town.
WHISKY INSURRECTION.
1111
meetings should be held Sept. 11, that the people
should vote yea or nay on the question of Submis-
sion, that those who voted yea should obtain am-
nesty by signing a declaration of submission, and
that the unanimity of the vote should govern the
movements of the troops.
fused to sign the declaration, for the reason that
they had taken no part in the outrages, and had
no need of amnesty; and the reckless part of the
insurgents supplemented the meagreness of the
vote by a renewal of the outrages, and even by
an attempt to seize the commissioners on their way
home. — The report of the commissioners was so
unfavorable that the president issued a new proc-
lamation, Sept. 25, giving notice of the advance of
the troops, mostly volunteers. Washington ac-
companied them to Carlisle, where he left the
chief command to Gov. Lee, of Virginia. The
Pennsylvania and New Jersey troops were led
by Govs. Mifflin and Howell; the Virginia troops
by Gen. Morgan; and the Maryland troops by
Samuel Smith, a member of congress from Bal-
timore. Hamilton accompanied the expedition
throughout. In the meantime a new popular
convention, Oct. 2, had sent Findley and an-
other commissioner to the president with unan-
imous assurances of submission ; but the presi-
dent could see no evidence that the assurances
represented any general feeling. Another meet-
ing, Oct. 24, therefore declared that all suspected
persons ought to surrender at once for trial, and
that it would be perfectly safe to open inspection
offices and put the excise laws in operation imme-
diately; and four commissioners were appointed
to carry these resolutions to the president. No
halt took place in the movement of the troops,
however. They arrived in the disturbed district
early ill Novelliber, and their commander, after
giving the inhabitants time to obey his proclama-
tion and take advantage of the proffered amnesty,
arrested by a general sweep those accused persons
who had not yet exonerated themselves. These
culprits, however, were insignificant. Bradford
and the more violent leaders had fled the country,
and the more moderate leaders had protected them-
selves by taking advantage of the amnesty : as
Wolcott, a warm federalist, expressed it, “all the
great rogues, who began the mischief, had sub-
mitted and become partisans of the government.”
The result was, that two or three were tried and
convicted, and these were pardoned. But there was
for a long time an angry feeling that Hamilton,
Rnox and Judge Peters had acted as a “star
chamber” in their manner of taking testimony,
and in their sending a number of accused persons
to Philadelphia, “to be imprisoned for ten or
twelve months without even an indictment being
found against them.”— The first show of force
had suppressed the insurrection, and the troops
returned home, leaving 2,500 men, under Morgan,
who encamped in the disturbed district through-
out the winter. Its suppression had been almost
bloodless, but two persons having been killed, and
these in personal conflicts with soldiers for which
Many, however, re-
the soldiers were punished. But the effects were
greater than if a “Peterloo” battle had been
fought. The early political struggles of the United
States are none the less important because they
were peaceful; and the bloodless suppression of
the whisky insurrection is as significant in its way
as the bloody emergence of the English nation
from the chaos of the heptarchy. For five years
the people had been enjoying all the comforts of
a national government without feeling any of the
responsibilities which accompanied them; and the
politicians had been developing the idea that indi-
vidual obedience to the federal government under
the constitution was to be as fundamentally vol-
untary as state obedience had been under the con-
federation, that all Americans were by nature
good citizens, and that discontent with a law was
prima facie evidence that the law was bad and
ought to be repealed. The year 1794 completed
what the year 1787 began; it revealed a power
which, though seldom exerted, must always be
finally decisive. The swiftness and thoroughness
with which the resistance had been put down;
the evident fact that, as Wolcott said, “the whole
resources of the country would be employed, if
necessary”; and the reflection that a part can
never be equal to the whole: all combined to show
the hopelessness of any future insurrection which
individual dissatisfaction could be expected to
produce. It is clearly within bounds to say, that
this single lesson would have been sufficient to
free the United States from future danger of in-
surrection but for the influence of slavery in bind-
ing together a number of states in Organized in-
surrection. Its influence is certainly evident in
a comparison of the congressional debates before
and after it occurred. Before 1794 there is in
many of the speakers almost an affectation of
voluntary obedience to federal laws, and of moni-
tion to others not to provoke resistance. After
that year, this characteristic disappears almost en-
tirely, and the debates have no longer the back-
ground of possible club law. — A broader result is
easily visible now, though few others than Jeffer-
son and Hamilton saw it then. If a federal army,
without the summons of the governor or legisla-
ture, was to march through a state to suppress
resistance to federal laws within the state, state
sovereignty, in its hitherto accepted Sense, could
hardly be found by searching. Little was said at
the time, but when the federal party was finally
overthrown, one of the first steps in reform was
the abolition of the excise laws by the act of April
6, 1802. (See STATE SovieFEIGNTY.) — See 4
Hildreth’s United States, 498; 1 von Holst’s United
States, 94; 1 Schouler's United States, 275; 2 Pit-
kin’s United States, 421; 1 Tucker’s United States,
552; Bradford’s Federal Government, 84; 1 Gibbs’
Administrations of Washington and Adams, 144;
Wharton’s State Th’ials, 102 ; authorities under
GALLATIN, HAMILTON and JEFFERSON; 3 Jeffer-
son's Works (edit. 1833), 308; 4 Hamilton's Works,
231 (letter to Washington); 6 Pennsylvania. Hist.
Soc. Memoirs, 117 (Ward’s “Insurrection of 1794”)
1112
WHISKY RING.
188 (James Gallatin’s “Memoir on the Insurrec-
tion ”); Findley’s History of the Insurrection ;
Brackenridge's Incidents of the Insurrection ; 11
Pennsylvania Archives; the acts of March 3, 1791,
May 8, 1792, June 5, 1794, and April 6, 1802, are
in 1 Stat. at Large, 202, 267, 380, and 2: 148; the
proclamation of Sept. 25, 1794, is in 1 Statesman’s
Manual, 54. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WHISKY RING, the popular name for an as-
sociation of revenue officers and distillers to de-
fraud the government of the internal revenue tax
on distilled spirits. The nature and natural effect
of this tax are so fully described elsewhere that it
is needless to do more than refer to them. (See
DISTILLED SPIRITs.) It is only intended to enter
a little more minutely into the formation and op-
eration of the ring. — The ring had its origin in
St. Louis, when the “liberal republican” move-
ment had achieved its first success. (See MIS-
SOURI, LIBERAL REPUBLICAN PARTY.) The dis-
tillers were assessed by the revenue officials for
money with which to secure the support of an in-
fluential St. Louis newspaper. The ring soon
widened, and in 1874 it had spread into national
proportions. Distillers who refused to enter it
were watched, and entrapped into technical vio-
lations of law. Then, having become liable to
seizure, they had to choose between ruin and Sur-
render to the ring. There were branches at Mil-
waukee, Chicago, Peoria, Cincinnati and New
Orleans, and an agent, who has not been legally
identified, at Washington; but the headquarters
of the ring were still at St. Louis. It had acquired
so large an influence in the national republican
party, that, when the new secretary of the treas-
ury, Bristow (see ADMINISTRATIONS), issued an
order to transfer supervisors, which would have
thrown the ring into confusion, the politicians ob-
tained a direct countermand of the order from the
president. The special treasury agents were cor-
rupted, and the ring maintained its ground. —
When the statistics of the St. Louis merchants’
exchange for 1874 were published, a comparison
of the shipments with the revenue returns showed
that about $1,200,000 of taxes had not been paid.
Nevertheless, the secretary of the treasury was
unable to reach the individuals at fault, for the
ring had prompt information from the department
itself of any step toward investigation. Early in
February, 1875, the editor of the “ St. Louis Dem-
ocrat,” Mr. George Fishback, sent a message to
Mr. Bristow, offering to furnish him with a trust-
worthy agent, who would unearth the frauds. The
secretary accepted the offer, and Mr. Fishback
named Mr. Myron Colony, secretary of the cot-
ton exchange. Mr. Bristow appointed the solic-
itor of the treasury, Mr. Bluford Wilson, to co-
Operate with him, and the work was begun. — At
first the attempt was made to watch the operations
of suspected distilleries, the amount of grain car-
ried in and of liquor carried out; but the officials
and distillers discovered the attempt, and sus-
pended the frauds until they had organized gangs
of ruffians and driven away the detectives. Then
Mr. Colony, under pretense of collecting statistics
of the city's receipts and shipments, placed a man
at each landing and freight depot, to copy bills of
lading. The copyists were ignorant of the pur-
pose of their employer, and were directed to copy
the records of all staple articles, including whisky.
Finally, by assorting the bills, Mr. Colony had a
description of all shipments of liquors by each
distillery for three months, with the serial num-
bers of the stamps. Comparison with the Official
returns of course laid the whole fraud bare; and,
within a month after Mr. Colony’s appointment,
he had made all the leading houses of St. Louis
liable to seizurc. The work was then transferred
to special agents of the internal revenue bureau,
most of whom were kept in ignorance of the real
object of their investigations; and a new commis-
sioner of internal revenue, ex-Senator Pratt, of In-
diana, was appointed. Under his direction, ex-
perts compared the returns of other distilleries
with the records already obtained, and thus the
secretary was enabled, through his agents, to work
up similar frauds at Milwaukee and Chicago, and
to discover the manner in which the distillers,
by connivance of the officials, accomplished the
frauds, by shipping secretly barrels whose con-
tents they had reported as “dumped” into the
common cistern of the distillery for storage. Fi-
nally, May 10, 1875, the blow fell simultaneously
at St. Louis, Milwaukee and Chicago, by the seiz-
ure of all the implicated distilleries, sixteen in
number, and as many rectifying houses. The
records seized enabled the government to make
further seizures in almost every important city in
the United States, for the seizure of May 10 had
been entirely unexpected and unprepared for. One
telegram had gone from Washington to St. Louis:
“Lightning will strike on Monday. Inform our
friends in the country.” But it was found that
the sender and receiver of the message were both
opponents of the ring; and, with this exception,
no intimation of the secretary’s purposes seems to
have passed outside of his own little circle. As a
result of this secrecy of operation, the government
was able to bring into court a total amount of about
$3,500,000 of property seized, with suits on gaug-
ers’ bonds, and indictments against 238 persons, .
including distillers, rectifiers, wholesale liquor
dealers, collectors, deputy collectors, Supervisors,
gaugers, storekeepers, and other persons. It was
shown that the government had been defrauded
of about $1,650,000 of taxes during the ten months
from July 1, 1874, to May 1, 1875. —When the
papers in the case were first laid before President
Grant, he indorsed one of them with directions to
“let no guilty man escape,” and had supported
Bristow heartily. But the first effort of the ring
was to persuade the president that Bristow's zeal
was inspired by a desire to obtain the presidency.
The investigators had come to believe that the
president's private secretary, Babcock, was one of
the ring, and they directed his movements to be
watched. The letter, which ordered the fraud to
WHITE.
1113.
be exposed “from bottom to top,” was stolen from
the office of the government counsel; and, when it
reached Babcock, the letters “W. H.” had been
added at the end of a line after the word “top,” so
as to make it appear to be the intention to investi-
gate the White House from bottom to top. A press
copy of the letter exposed the interpolation, and
prevented the removal of Wilson, for which the
president had hastily given orders on first reading
the letter. This, however, was but one of the ef-
forts which were made from every side to break up
all confidence and co-operation between the presi-
dent and the secretary; others seem to have been
more successful. — Indictments for conspiracy to
defraud, and for destruction of public records, be-
gan in June, 1875, and continued throughout the
year. The most important were those against
John A. Joyce, revenue special agent, John Mc-
Donald, supervisor, Wm. O. Avery, chief clerk
in the treasury department, and General O. E.
Babcock. The trials began in the autumn at Jef-
ferson City, Mo. Joyce was convicted, Oct. 23,
McDonald Nov. 22, and Avery Dec. 3. One of
the leading counsel for the government in these
prosecutions was John B. Henderson, of Missouri.
In the Avery trial he had occasion to introduce
certain suspicious telegrams from Babcock, and
he commented on them and on the president’s
general action in the case in terms which, to say
the least, were indiscreet. “What right,” said he,
“ had Babcock to go to Douglas [the former in-
ternal revenue commissioner] to induce him to
withdraw his agents? What right had the presi-
dent to interfere with Douglas in the proper dis-
charge of his duties, or with the secretary of the
treasury? Why did Douglas bend the supple
hinges of his knee, and permit any interference
by the president?” Henderson claimed that this
language was meant only to justify the president
in not interfering; but it must be evident that the
president could not have been fairly expected to
endure this mode of attacking the whisky ring.
Henderson was removed; but his place was given
to Jas. O. Broadhead, a leading democratic law-
yer of St. Louis. Dec. 9 the federal grand jury
indicted Babcock. Babcock had already asked
for a military court of inquiry, to investigate the
charges against him in the Avery trial, and the
president was strongly disposed to direct the at-
torney general to suspend all civil proceedings in
the Babcock case, and turn the matter over to the
military court. This was successfully resisted by
Bristow; but the court was granted, and met at
Chicago, Dec. 9. The attorney general directed
the district attorney to send to the military court
his evidence against Babcock, and the names of
his witnesses; but the district attorney (Dyer) re-
fused to obey an order which would have made
him punishable for contempt of court. The mili-
tary court met, suspended its proceedings, and
Soon afterward dissolved. — The Babcock trial
began Feb. 8, 1876. One of the most important
Witnesses, a gauger named Everest, who was al-
leged to have personal knowledge of payments to
Babcock by the ring, had been induced to go to
Europe. District attorney Dyer had induced him
to return by a promise of exemption from prose-
cution, met him in Philadelphia, and obtained an
outline of his testimony. As soon as this became
‘known, the attorney general issued an order to
the district attorneys at St. Louis, Chicago and
Milwaukee, dated Jan. 26, 1876, ordering them to
give no promises of exemption, but to punish
every guilty person, who should be convicted or
should confess his guilt. It is hardly necessary
to say that this letter excited a general indigna-
tion, and was looked upon as an official effort to
screen Babcock. — It must be confessed, that, in
spite of the fact that there was not a breath of
suspicion upon the president personally, there
was a very general feeling that he was to some
extent on trial with his private secretary ; and
there was an equally general feeling of relief when
the jury, Feb. 24, brought in a verdict of not
guilty. Immediately afterward the president took
another private secretary in Babcock’s place. —
Most of the remaining defendants either plead
guilty or were convicted; and a few, in whose
cases there were extenuating circumstances, were
non-prossed. Of the leading defendants, Avery,
McKee and Maguire were pardoned in about six
months. – In March, 1876, a select committee
was appointed by the house of representatives to
ascertain whether any federal official had aided
or given information to the defendants. It sat
for six months, examined a great number of
witnesses, and gave their testimony in House
Misc. Doc., No. 186, 1st session, 44th congress,
1875–6. The whole makes up a startling reve-
lation of the political methods of the time, and
of the disgraceful and dangerous condition of
the civil service. —Every eſfort had been made
to blacken the private and public character
of Secretary Bristow, but without the slightest
success. In the spring of 1876 he opened an at-
tack upon a whisky ring on the California coast.
Here, at last, he was beaten. As soon as his in-
vestigations became dangerous, a California Sena-
tor demanded the removal of several of the more
active special agents of the treasury at San Fran-
cisco. The secretary refused, but was not sup-
ported by the president ; and in June, 1876, he
resigned. His retirement relieved the ring from
further prosecution; but its active energies were
broken and were never revived. C. & J.
WHITE, Hugh Lawson, was born in Iredell
county, N. C., Oct. 30, 1773, and died at Knox-
ville, Tenn., April 10, 1840. He removed to Ten-
nessee with his father in 1786, was admitted to
the bar in 1795, and served as judge of the state
supreme court 1801–7 and 1809–15, as state Senator
1807–8 and 1817–18, and as United States senator
1825–33 and 1837–40. In 1836 he received twenty-
six electoral votes, from Tennessee and Georgia,
for the presidency, being the representative of
that “state rights” southern faction which there-
after became the southern wing of the whig party.
1114
WILMOT PROVISO.
(See WHIG PARTY, I.) See Nancy H. Scott's
Memoir of White; 2 Benton's Thirty Years’ View,
184. A. J.
WHITE LEAGUE. (See Ku-Klux KLAN)
WILMOT PROVISO (IN U. S. HISTORY).
Although this principle has been baptized with
the name of David Wilmot, a democratic con-
gressman from Pennsylvania, who attempted to
apply it in 1846 to the territory about to be ac-
quired from Mexico, it is in reality the outcome
of that principle of congressional control over the
territories which has constantly been applied in
practice since the nation first owned territories.
The Ordinance of 1787 (see that title) prohibited
slavery in the northwest territory; and in the ter-
ritory southwest of the Ohio the prohibition of
slavery was not imposed, because congress, in ac-
cepting the cessions of it by the states, had volun-
tarily bound itself not to do so.
tion of the territories, while congress has allowed
the election of the lower house of the legislature
by the people, it has always retained to the na-
tional government the appointment of the judges
and of the governors, with a veto on the territo-
rial legislatures, and has even retained a power to
veto, in the last resort, the action of territorial
governors and legislatures together. Its power to
prohibit polygamy and slavery in the territories
has always rested on exactly the same foundation.
(See TERRITORIES.) In the case of slavery it
would probably never have been denied, but for
the influence occasioned by the growth of slavery.
Jefferson's prohibition of slavery in both the north-
west and southwest territories came within a hair's
breadth of success in 1784; and the more limited
prohibition of 1787 had practically no opposition.
In the case of Missouri, in 1819–20, there was
hardly any denial in the south, while there was a
unanimous affirmation in the north, of the power
of congress to prohibit anything in the territories,
even slavery. The Southern argument was al-
together different from any such denial. It showed
that the national government had acquired the
territory west of the Mississippi, when slavery
was permitted therein by law; that it had taken
no steps whatever to prohibit slavery therein, but
had allowed it to extend north through Missouri;
and that, when Missouri had thereby become a
slave state through the continued policy of con-
gress, confirmed by the admission of Louisiana as
a slave state in 1812, it was not just, by a sudden
reversal of policy in the case of Missouri, to destroy
property rights which congress, at least by laches,
had allowed to grow up. Leaving out of question
the morality of slavery, the Southern reasoning
was just, and indeed, mutatis mutandis, was ex-
actly the reasoning of the free-soilers of after
days. In 1820 (see COMPROMISEs, IV.), congress
recognized its justice: it refrained from touching
slavery in that part of the annexation where it
had been allowed to grow up, in the states of
Louisiana and Missouri, and in the territory of
In the organiza-
Arkansas; but it took absolute assurance for the
future by prohibiting slavery forever in the rest of
the annexation, that part lying north of latitude
36° 30'. The mistake lay in allowing this to go.
forth as a compromise, a bargain, a division of
| territory between the sections, instead of a plain
exercise of rightful power by congress, coupled
with an act of condonation for the past. There
could then have been no attempt to stamp the
Wilmot proviso in 1846 as a novelty in American
legislation. —I. BEFORE ANNEXATION. Prohi-
bitions of slavery were inserted in the organiza-
tion of the new territories formed from the Louis-
iana purchase, Iowa in 1838, and Minnesota in
1849, by the following provision: “The laws of
the United States are hereby extended over and
declared to be in force in the said territory, so far .
as the same, or any provision thereof, may be ap-
plicable.” The prohibition of slavery therein,
passed in 1820, thus attached to them as organized.
territories. It was very doubtful whether Oregon.
was really a part of the Louisiana purchase (see:
NORTHWEST BOUNDARY), and for greater Safety
an explicit prohibition of slavery was inserted in.
the first house bill to organize the territory. In
this form the house passed the bill, Feb. 3, 1845,
by a vote of 140 to 59. Pending difficulties with.
Great Britain made the organization of the terri-
tory at that time a matter of doubtful prudence,
and it was not considered by the Senate until after
the treaty of June 15, 1846. — All parties who
voted for the annexation of Texas did so with a .
silent recognition of slavery therein, as established
by local law. But the remainder of the Mexican.
republic was absolutely barred to slavery, at first by
a decree of the dictator Guerrero in 1829, and then:
by the constitutions of the Mexican republic. If,
then, any portion of it should be annexed to the:
|United States, it would come in as free territory,
just as all other acquisitions had been slave ter-
ritory when acquired. Early in the Mexican War
an arrangement seems to have been made by the
administration with the banished Mexican pres-
ident, Santa Anna, by which he was to be allowed.
to return to Mexico, reorganize his party, and Con-
clude a peace on the basis of a payment by the
| United States for a cession of territory. Aug. 8,
1846, in a special message, the president asked for
the appropriation of a sum of money for “the ad-
justment of a boundary with Mexico such as nei-
ther republic will hereafter be inclined to disturb,”
that is, for the purchase of Mexican territory
outside of Texas. Such a bill, appropriating
$2,000,000, was at once introduced in the house,
and debate was limited to two hours. Northern and
southern whigs were alike opposed to any acqui-
sition of territory, for fear of introducing with it
the question of slavery: and White, of New York,
and Winthrop, of Massachusetts, now expressed
their party's views clearly and forcibly. Most of
the northern democrats, while determined on ac-
quisition of territory, were equally determined.
that it should remain free. Brinckerhoff, of Ohio,
at once drafted, and Wilmot introduced, the
WILMOT PROVISO.
1115,
amendment afterward famous as the “Wilmot
proviso,” as follows: “provided that [as an express
and fundamental condition to the acquisition of
any territory from the republic of Mexico by the
United States, by virtue of any treaty which may
be negotiated between them, and to the use by the
executive of the moneys herein appropriated] nei-
ther slavery nor involuntary servitude shall ever
exist in any part of said territory, except for crime,
whereof the party shall first be duly convicted.”
The words in brackets were not essential, except
under temporary circumstances, and the remain-
der forms the Wilmot proviso proper, as it is usu-
ally cited. It followed the language of the ordi-
nance of 1787. — Remarkably little opposition
was made to this first appearance of the proviso,
and that little came from southern democrats who
alleged that the territory in question was already
free; that the proviso was thus needless; and that
it was also mischievous, as a piece of supererog-
atory and offensively anti-southern legislation,
which would provoke the election of extreme
Southern representatives and endanger the Union.
This view will be found best stated by Benton,
as cited below, and he himself was one of the first
victims. (See MISSOURI.) The proviso was quietly
accepted; the house decided it in order by a vote
of 92 to 37, and adopted it (83 to 64) and the whole
bill (85 to 79) on the day of its introduction. Two
days afterward, on the last day of the session, the
Senate voted, 19 to 10, to take up the bill for con-
sideration. Lewis, of Alabama, moved to strike
out the proviso. Davis, of Massachusetts, argued
against the motion, and persisted in his argument
until the time fixed for adjournment came, and he
was cut off in the full flow of debate. The pro-
viso thus fell with the bill. It was claimed at the
time that it would have been passed by the votes
of all the free-state Senators, and those from Dela-
ware and Maryland; but Wilson makes a very
convincing showing that it would have been voted
down. Nevertheless the denunciations of Davis’
action in democratic newspapers and in the
“Union,” the official newspaper at Washington,
were far more severe than in those of their oppo-
ments. Cass, in conversation, censured Davis
severely. Polk, in his message of the following
December, without any condemnation of the pro-
viso, expressed his regret that the bill had not
passed, and his confidence that a majority of both
houses was still in favor of it. The legislatures of
every northern state east of Indiana, excepting
Maine, but including Delaware, formally approved
the proviso, democrats and whigs uniting in the
vote. Everything seemed to point to its passage,
as a democratic measure, at the following session.
— Before the following session the southern mem-
bers had been naturally forced into an attitude of
stronger opposition to the proviso. Every south-
ern aspirant to a seat in congress was certain to
represent the sitting member's active or passive
support of the proviso as an act of treason to the
south; and thus all the southern democrats, who
desired an acquisition of territory, were arrayed
remaining Wilmot democrats.
against the proviso. Southern whigs, who were
against the acquisition, could safely vote against.
the proviso with its bill, and could carry enough
northern whigs with them on that issue to preserve
the national integrity of their party. How were
northern democrats to keep their party intact 2
This pressing question was answered by the evolu-
tion of the new dogma of “popular sovereignty”
(see that title) in the territories, by virtue of which
the status of slavery in any territory was to be re-
mitted to the decision of the people of the terri-
tory. Urged at first as a prudent way of settling
the difficulty, it almost immediately became the
touchstone of democracy, and Wilmot and demo-
crats who supported him were driven out of the
party. —Jan. 4, 1847, in the house, Preston King,
of New York, asked leave to offer a bill like that
of the previous session, changing $2,000,000 to
$3,000,000, but adding the proviso. Before it
could be considered, bills of like nature, but with-
out the proviso, had been reported in both houses.
In the senate the Southern whigs unsuccessfully
tried to add a prohibition of any purchase of ter-
ritory; and the bill, without the proviso, passed
March 1. In the house the proviso was moved
by Wilmot as an amendment, Feb. 8, renewed by
Hamlin, Feb. 15, and adopted by a vote of 115 to
106, Douglas unsuccessfully trying to restrict it to
territory north of latitude 36° 30'. March 3, in
the house, the proviso was added to the senate.
bill in committee of the whole by a vote of 90 to
80, but rejected on the report of the committee.
(97 to 102); and the bill, without the proviso, was
finally passed (115 to 81). —In the meantime, a
bill to organize Oregon territory, with a provision
that the inhabitants should enjoy all the privi-
leges, and be bound by all the prohibitions and
restrictions, of the ordinance of 1787 (which pro-
hibited slavery), was passed by the house, Jan. 16,
1847. But Oregon was now to be linked in, for a,
time, with the territory to be annexed; and the
senate, after twice committing the bill, laid it on
the table, March 3. —II. AFTER ANNEXATION
AND BEFORE COMPROMISE. Before any further
measures could be attempted at the next session,
peace had been concluded, Feb. 2, 1848, and the
great territories of California and New Mexico (see
ANNExATIONs, IV., for their extent) had been
transferred to the United States. The fact of
possession greatly changed political conditions.
Southern democrats simply continued to oppose
the proviso; northern democrats now opposed it
by force of the doctrine of popular sovereignty;
and southern whigs, who had opposed it together
with the $3,000,000 bill, on account of the acqui-
sition of territory, found little difficulty in con-
tinuing the opposition after annexation. In short,
the proviso had now no friends in congress, ex-
cepting a part of the northern whigs and the few
Only the immi-
nent presidential election of 1848, and the un-
known possibilities of a northern free-soil upris-
'ing, prevented the organization of the territories,
without the proviso, in the spring of 1848; and
1116
WILMOT PROVISO.
the lost opportunity was not easily regained. —
May 29, 1848, the president called the attention of
congress to the pressing necessity of organizing
Oregon territory; and the necessity was emphasized
by the fact that the popular provisional govern-
ment (see OREGON) had begun to make laws for-
bidding slavery. The necessary bill, which Doug-
las had reported, Jan. 10, was at Once brought up;
Hale offered as an amendment a section imposing
the prohibitions, as well as the privileges, of the
ordinance of 1787; and debate continued until
July 12. A select committee of eight was then
chosen, and it reported, July 18, a bill in thirty-
seven sections, commonly known as the “Clayton
compromise,” from the chairman of the commit-
tee, organizing the territories of Oregon, Califor-
inia and New Mexico together. No power was
given to the territorial legislatures to legislate
on slavery, and questions of its legality or ille-
gality in any particular territory were to be de-
cided by the territorial courts, with a right to ap-
peal to the United States supreme court. In this
form the bill was passed, July 26, but the house
laid it on the table by a vote of 112 to 97, and it
was never revived. The majority was made up
of seventy-four northern whigs, thirty northern
democrats, and eight southern whigs. Aug. 2,
the house passed an Oregon bill, with the section
relating to the ordinance of 1787. Aug. 10, the
senate passed it with an amendment declaring the
Missouri compromise line to extend to the Pacific,
and to be binding in all future organizations of
territories; and on the following day the house
non-concurred. Aug. 12, the senate receded,
passed the bill as it originally came from the
house, and Oregon was a free territory. The se-
“cret of the senate's action was in the Buffalo con-
vention three days before, and the nomination of
candidates pledged against extension of slavery.
(See FREE-SOIL PARTY.)—The southern leaders
were doubly embarrassed at the meeting of con-
gress in December, 1848. The discovery of gold
in California, Jan. 19, 1848, was increasing the
population so rapidly that a state government
would soon be even more necessary than a terri-
torial government; and the mass of northern dem-
vocrats in congress were so thoroughly provoked
|by Taylor's election through southern electoral
votes as to be ready even for the proviso. Noth-
ing could have postponed the proviso but the
:shortness of the session, and the still controlling
influence of the South in the Senate. Congress.
had hardly organized, when the house, Dec. 13,
by a vote of 108 to 80, instructed the committee
on territories to bring in territorial bills for Cali-
fornia and New Mexico, “excluding slavery there-
from.” The committee, one week later, reported
the California bill, but it was not reached until
Feb. 26, 1849. The next day it was passed by a
vote of 126 to 87, almost exactly sectional. The
New Mexico bill was reported Jan. 3, but was not
reached. In the senate the California bill was re-
ferred, but never considered, and the committee
was discharged, March 3. In place of it, an un-
successful attempt was made to tack a senate bill
to the appropriation bill. (See RIDERs, II.) At
the adjournment the territories were still left unor-
ganized. — No one, as yet, denied the right of the
people of a territory, when forming a state con-
stitution, to prohibit slavery; and the new admin-
istration (Taylor’s) at once undertook to solve the
problem by procuring the formation of state gov-
ernments in both California and New Mexico. In
both of these the Wilmot proviso was a part of
the state constitution. This forced the further
proceedings into a new Pine, which is detailed else-
where. (See COMPROMISES, V.) In reviewing
the whole current of events, at the close of Sep-
tember, 1850, it will appear that the object of the
proviso, the prohibition of slavery, had been suc-
cessfully attained in all the territory outside of the
Louisiana purchase, except the modern state of
Nevada, and the territories of Utah, New Mexico
and Arizona (then included in New Mexico); and
that, as to the excepted portions, the Mexican laws
abolishing slavery therein had never been inter-
fered with by American laws. But the struggle
over the Wilmot proviso, which was essentially
only a declaration of the existing law of the ter-
ritories, was a very sufficient warning that some
influence was at work, which would resist any
such declaration for the future. This was the
doctrine of Calhoun, that the constitution’s guar-
antee of security to property covered the territo-
ries also; and that congress was bound to enforce
it in the case of slave property, as well as other
property. The objection now seems insuperable
that the slaves were always referred to as “per-
sons” in the federal constitution, and as “prop-
erty” only in state constitutions and laws, which
could have nothing to do with the territories.
But at the time Calhoun’s doctrine fell in too
closely with southern feeling to be resisted. It
was adopted, openly by some, tacitly by others,
and the comparative strength of the former class
steadily increased. Calhoun’s resolutions of Feb.
19, 1847, protesting against discrimination in the
territories against any state, were the first, though
vague, expression of the doctrine, and their effect
was seen in the unanimous resolutions of the Wir-
ginia legislature, March 8, following: 1, that such
a discrimination was in violation of the compro-
mises of the constitution; 2, that it was to be
“resisted at every hazard”; and 3, that, in the
event of the passage of the Wilmot proviso or any
law abolishing slavery or the 'slave trade in the
District of Columbia, the governor should imme-
diately convene the legislature “to consider of the
mode and measure of redress.” As the proviso
discussion went on, the southern tone grew still
warmer; and at the time of the final compromise
most of the southern states had statutes or res-
olutions in existence directing the governor to
call a popular convention in the event of the
passage of the proviso. (See SECESSION, II.) —
III. AFTER THE COMPROMISE. The general rat-
ification of the compromise of 1850 seemed at
first to have put an end to the desire for the pro-
f - WILMOT PROVISO.
1117
viso. When was it to be applied? California
was a free state, and the territories had been com-
pletely organized, those acquired under the Lou-
isiana purchase having the proviso under the
Missouri compromise, and those acquired under
the Mexican purchase merely ignoring it. Not
content to let well enough alone, the north-
ern democratic leaders, in 1854, attempted to ap-
ply the “popular sovereignty” principle to the
new territories of Kansas and Nebraska, formed
from the Louisiana purchase (see KANSAS-NE-
BRASKA BILL), and thus to wipe out the proviso
when it was already established by law. The at-
tempt naturally revived the proviso on a far
stronger ground. It was now an evidently con-
servative effort to reapply to the Louisiana pur-
chase the prohibition which had been its organic
law from 1820 until 1854; and it thus secured a
breadth of support greater than it could have ob-
tained in 1849–50, and became the basis of a great
northern party. (See REPUBLICAN PARTY, I.)
But of course the new party could not be content
to limit the assertion of the proviso to the Louisi-
ana purchase: law for one territory was law for
all, for Utah and New Mexico as well as for Kan-
SaS and Nebraska; and thus the work of 1850 was
to be done over again, with no chance now for
compromise. In 1857 the supreme court decided
that the proviso had always been unconstitutional
in the case of any territory (see DRED SCOTT
CASE); but this had little effect on the supporters
of the proviso. They still asserted the right of
congress to impose a prohibition of slavery upon
the territories, disregarding the obiter dicta of the
Supreme court, and leaving the constitutional
question to be decided by the court when the case
should come directly before it. Against this per-
manent programme a bald negative was but a
poor reliance: the South was compelled to choose
between admitting the validity of a prospective
prohibition, or taking Calhoun’s extreme ground
of the duty of congress to protect slavery in the
territories. It chose the latter (see DEMOCRATIC
PARTY, W.), its ultimatum being expressed in
Jefferson Davis’ senate resolutions of May 24–25,
1860. The most important of these, in this con-
nection, were the fourth and fifth, as follows:
“4, that neither congress nor a territorial legisla-
ture, whether by direct legislation or legislation
of an indirect and unfriendly character, possesses
power to annul or impair the constitutional right
of any citizen of the United States to take his
slave property into the common territories, and
there hold and enjoy the same while the territorial
condition remains; 5, that, if experience should
at any time prove that the judicial and executive
authority do not possess means to insure adequate
protection to constitutional rights in a territory,
and if the territorial government should fail or
refuse to provide the necessary remedies for that
purpose, it will be the duty of congress to supply
such deficiency.” At least a part of these resolu-
tions was explained by a territorial law of New
Mexico, in 1859, establishing slavery. It was dis-
approved by the house of representatives, but the
Senate did not act on the veto, bill, so that the ter-
ritorial slave law remained in force. On the con-
trary, the eighth resolution of the republican plat-
form in May, 1860, declared “that the normal
condition of all the territory of the United States.
is that of freedom; that, as our republican fathers,
when they had abolished slavery in all our nation-
al territory, ordained that no person should be
deprived of life, liberty or property without due
process of law, it becomes, our duty, by legisla-
tion, whenever such legislation is necessary, to
maintain this provision of the constitution against
all attempts to violate it; and we deny the author-
ity of congress, of a territorial legislature, or of
any individuals, to give legal existence to slavery
in any territory of the United States.” The issue.
was thus fairly made up. On both sides: all or
nothing. The republican programme was in.
dorsed by Lincoln's election, and secession and
war followed. (See SECESSION, III.; REBELLION.)
— IV. FINAL ESTABLISHMENT OF THE PROVISO.
The withdrawal of southern senators and repre-
sentatives left the republicans in a majority in
both houses of congress, before the end of the
session of 1860–61 ; but they made no attempt to
enforce the eighth section of the Chicago plat-
form. The propositions of Crittenden (see CoM-
PROMISEs, W.I.), and of the peace congress (see
CONFERENCE, PEACE), both of which aimed to
forbid the future application of the Wilmot pro-
viso to territory south of latitude 36° 30', were
rejected; but, on the other hand, the territories.
of Colorado, Dakota and Nevada were organized
without the Wilmot proviso, in entire silence as
to slavery, and therefore with all the benefits to
the south of the Dred Scott decision. Slavery in
the territories remained undisturbed until 1862,
immediately after its abolition in the District of
Columbia, April 16. (See ABOLITION, III.) In
the house, March 24, a bill was introduced “to
render freedom national, and slavery sectional,”
and was referred to the committee on territories.
It was reported, May 1, recommitted, and again.
reported, May 8. It was now a bill to prohibit
slavery in the territories, in federal forts, dock-
yards, etc., in vessels on the high seas, in national
highways, and in all places where the national
government had exclusive jurisdiction. It was
debated until May 12, when it had been modified
into a simple prohibition of slavery in the terri-
tories, and was then passed by a vote of 85 to 50.
In the senate, June 9, its language Was Slightly
changed to the following: “that, from and after
the passage of this act, there shall be neither
slavery nor involuntary servitude in any of the
territories of the United States now existing, or
which may at any time hereafter be formed or
acquired by the United States, otherwise than in
punishment of crime, whereof the party shall
have been duly convicted ”; and it was then
passed (28 to 10). June 17, the house concurred
(72 to 38); and the bill became law, June 19. It
was never brought before the Supreme court, in
1118
WISCONSIN.
WILSON.
order that its constitutionality might be examined
in the light of the yet upreversed Dred Scott de-
cision ; but all doubts on that score were re-
moved by the national abolition of slavery in 1865,
through the ratification of the 13th amendment.
(See CoNSTITUTION, III.) — See 3 von Holst's
United States, 286; 1 Greeley’s American Conflict,
189; 2 Wilson's Rise and Fall of the Slave Power,
18; Harris’ Political Conflict in America, 114; 2 A.
H. Stephens' War Between the States, 165; Bu-
chanan’s Administration, 18; 1 Dix's Speeches, 179
(Three Million Bill); Gardiner's The Great Issue,
94; 16 Benton's Debates of Congress, 223–254 (Ore-
gon), 399 (summary of Mexican laws abolishing
slavery); Cleveland's A. H. Stephens, 343 (and
law authorities there cited in favor of the contin-
uance of Mexican laws after conquest); 3 States-
man’s Manual, 1613 (Message of Aug. 8, 1846),
1710 (Message of May 29, 1848); 15 Benton's De-
bates of Congress, 645 (introduction of the proviso);
16 ibid., index under Slavery; 4 Calhoun’s Works,
339 (resolutions of Feb. 19, 1847); 1 A. H. Ste-
phens' War Between the States, 409 (Senate reso-
lutions of May 24–25, 1860); 12 Stat. at Large,
432 (act of June 19, 1862); Wilson's Anti-Slavery
Measures in Congress, 92. The different shades of
opinion as to the proviso may best be studied as
follows: moderate democratic (south), 2 Benton’s
Thirty Years’ View, 695 (north), 1 Dix's Speeches,
281; extreme southern democratic, 4 Calhoun’s
Works, 535 (Speech of Feb. 24, 1849); southern
whig, Cleveland’s A. H. Stephens, 332 (Speech of
Feb. 12, 1847); northern whig, 5 Webster's Works,
253 (Speech of March 1, 1847); free-soil, Horace
Mann’s Letters and Speeches, 10 (Speech of June
30, 1848); abolitionist, Jay's Review of the Mewican
War, 183, and Warden's Life of Chase, 314; ad-
ministration, 1849–50, 3 Statesman’s Manual, 1847
(Message of Jan. 21, 1850).
view carefully avoids the subject until September,
1847 (p. 103), and the Whig Review until August,
1848 (p. 193), and then both pronounce against
the proviso, the former as an abolition measure,
the latter as a democratic measure.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WILSON, Henry, vice-president of the United
States 1873–5, was born at Farmington, N. H.,
Feb. 16, 1812, and died in office at Washington
city, Nov. 22, 1875. His name, Jeremiah Jones
Colbath, was changed to Henry Wilson by an act
of the legislature in 1830. He was self-educated
during the time which he could save from his la-
bors as a farm hand and shoemaker. From 1841
until 1852 he served frequently in the state legis-
lature, as a whig with strong anti-slavery opinions.
In 1848 he withdrew from the whig national con-
vention, entered the free-soil party, and was its
candidate for governor in 1853. He then went
into the “know-nothing” Organization (see AMER-
ICAN PARTY), but withdrew from it in 1855. Be-
fore his withdrawal he had been elected United
States senator by a coalition of know-nothings,
free-soilers and opposition democrats; and he re-
The Democratic Re-
tained the position as a republican until his elec-
tion as vice-president. During the rebellion he
served as chairman of the senate military commit-
tee, and took a leading part in the conduct of the
war by congress. His leading work is the History
of the Rise and Fall of the Slave Power in America;
his minor works are the History of the Anti-Slavery
Measures in Congress, 1860–64; Military Measures
of the United States Congress; History of the Re-
construction. Measures ºn Congress, 1865–8; History
of the Part of Congress in the War to suppress the
Rebellion. See Stowe's Men of Our Times; Mann's
Life of Wilson; Nason's Life of Wilson. -
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WIRT, William, was born at Bladensburgh,
Md., Nov. 8, 1772, and died at Washington city,
Feb. 18, 1834. He was admitted to the bar in
1794, and practiced in eastern Virginia until 1817,
when he became attorney general of the United
States, serving until 1829. In 1830 he removed to
Baltimore. In 1832 he was the anti-masonic can-
didate for the presidency (see ANTI-MASONRY, I.),
and received the seven electoral votes of Vermont.
See Kennedy’s Memoir of Wirt (1852); 70 North
American Review, 255; 92 lb., 277.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WISCONSIN, a state of the American Union,
formed from the northwest territory. (See TER-
RITORIES, ORDINANCE OF 1787.) Its area was in-
cluded successively in the territories of Indiana,
Illinois and Michigan, and was finally organized
into the territory of Wisconsin, April 20, 1836.
An enabling act was passed Aug. 6, 1846, and un-
der its provisions a convention at Madison, Oct.
5–Dec. 16, 1846, framed a state constitution. An
act was then passed, March 3, 1847, to admit the
new state under this constitution, if it should be
ratified by popular vote. It was rejected by the
people, owing to its attempt to prohibit banks
and banking, and Wisconsin remained a terri-
tory. May 29, 1848, the state was finally ad-
mitted under its first constitution. — BOUNDA-
RIES. As this was the fifth state erected from
the northwest territory, which, by the ordinance
of 1787, was to be divided into not more than
five states, it would seem fitting that Wiscon-
sin should have comprised all the remnant of
the original territory. This, however, was not
done: five and a half states were really formed,
that portion west and north of the western end
of Lake Superior being taken from Wisconsin
and given to the trans-Mississippi territory of
Minnesota. The boundaries of the state, as fixed
by the enabling act and accepted by the first
constitution, are as follows: Beginning in the
middle of Lake Michigan, in latitude 42° 30'
north (the northern boundary of Illinois); thence,
with the Michigan boundary, through Lake Mich-
igan, Green Bay, and the Menomonee, Brulé
and Montreal rivers to Lake Superior; thence
through the middle of Lake Superior to the St.
Louis river at the head of the lake, up the St.
WISCONSIN.
1119
Touis to its first rapids, due south to the St. Croix
river, down the St. Croix to the Mississippi, down
the Mississippi to the northwest corner of Illinois,
and thence east to the beginning. — CONSTITU-
TION. The constitution under which the state was
admitted, still in force, was framed by a conven-
tion at Madison, Dec. 15, 1847 – Feb. 1, 1848, and
ratified by popular vote March 13. It forbade
slavery; gave the right of suffrage to white males
over twenty-one, on one year's residence, but with
power to the legislature to extend the limits of the
elective franchise on ratification by popular vote;
fixed the numbers of the assembly at not less than
fifty-four nor more than 100, to serve one year,
and of the senate at not less than one-fourth nor
more than one-third of the assembly, to serve two
years; gave the governor, elected by popular vote,
a term of two years; made the judiciary elective
for a term of years, and removable by address of
two-thirds of the members elected to each house;
forbade the loaning of the state's credit, or the
contracting of a state debt of more than $100,000
'except in case of war or insurrection; and made
Madison the capital of the state. Slight amend-
ments were made in 1867, 1869 and 1870; in 1871
the legislature was forbidden to pass special laws
in a number of specified cases; in 1874 county and
municipal governments were forbidden to con-
tract debts to an amount greater than 5 per cent.
of their taxable property; and in 1882 the sessions
of the legislature were made biennial. — Gov-
ERNORS. Nelson Dewey, 1848–51; Leonard J.
Farwell, 1851–3; Wm. A. Barstow, 1853–5; Coles
Bashford, 1855–7; Alex. W. Randall, 1857–61 ;
Louis P. Harvey, 1861–2; Edward Salomon,
1862–3; James T. Lewis, 1863–6; Lucius Fair-
child, 1866–72; C. C. Washburn, 1872–4; Wm. H.
Taylor, 1874–6; Harrison Ludington, 1876–8; Wm.
IE. Smith, 1878–82; Jeremiah M. Rusk, 1882–4. —
POLITICAL HISTORY. In national politics the state
was democratic until 1856, casting her electoral
votes for Cass and Pierce in 1848 and 1852. In 1856,
and at every presidential election since that year,
the state has been republican, about 55 per cent.
of the total popular vote being cast for the repub-
lican electors, except in 1876, when it fell to 51
per cent. In more local elections, the results have
been closely similar. Until 1855 the state govern-
ments and congressmen were democratic, with
the following exceptions: in 1851 Gov. Farwell
was elected by a temporary coalition of whigs
and free-Soilers; and until 1852 the southeastern
or Milwaukee district elected a free-soil congress-
man, the southwestern district a whig, and the
northeastern district a democrat. The coalition
of 1851 dissolved almost immediately, and for the
next two years democratic supremacy was hardly
disputed. Early in 1854 the organization of the
republican party (see that title) was begun, and
before July it had been completed, the whig and
free-Soil committees disbanding, and new com-
mittees of whigs, free-soilers and democrats, being
appointed in their stead. In the fall elections the
new party carried two of the congressional dis-
tricts and the lower house of the legislature, and
elected twelve of the twenty-five senators: the
Milwaukee district was now democratic. In the
following year, though the democrats carried the
lower house and elected all the state officers ex-
cept the governor, the republicans secured the
Senate, and, after a struggle, the governorship
also. For this office the first official count gave
Barstow (dem.) 36,170 votes, and Bashford (rep.)
36,012. Bashford claimed a miscount, took the
Oath as governor in January, 1856, and brought a
Quo warranto suit in the state supreme court
against Barstow, who had also taken the oath.
The assembly voted to recognize Barstow as gov-
ernor, and the senate voted to recognize him as
governor de facto until the decision of the Supreme
court. Barstow denied the court's jurisdiction,
which the court after argument affirmed, Feb. 19.
Barstow then withdrew from the case under pro-
test, and left the office to Bashford. Since that
time all the governors, with the exception of Gov.
Taylor, have been republican, as well as the legis-
latures, the United States senators and the con-
gressmen, with some exceptions, most of which
are noted below. — In 1856 the republicans again
elected the governor, a majority of both houses
of the legislature, and as a consequence the United
States senator (Doolittle): the democrats again
elected the other state Officers. This was the last
election for many years in which the result was
close or' doubtful. Since 1863 the Fond du Lac
district has always chosen a democratic congress-
man; and to this must be added the northeastern
or Green Lake district in 1859–65, the Milwaukee
district in 1863–5 and 1871–85, the Winnebago
district in 1875–85, and the general democratic
success in 1882. In all other congressional elec-
tions the republicans have been successful, braving
usually five of the six congressmen from 1861
until 1871, and five of the eight congressmen from
1871 until 1881. In the election of 1882, under a
new apportionment, the state was entitled to nine
congressmen, and the democrats were successful
in six of the districts. – In state politics the most
interesting issues have been the Graham law in
1872, and the Potter law in 1874. The former was
an act requiring a license for the sale of liquor,
together with a bond for the payment of any
damages recovered against the seller by a town
for the support of an intoxicated person, or by
any person injured in the means of support by the
sale of liquor to husband, wife, parent or child.
It was decided constitutional by the state Supreme
court in 1873, and, with other moving causes, led
to a slight republican reverse in that year: the
liberal republicans and democrats elected Taylor
governor. March 11, 1874, the Potter law was
passed. It was a general railroad law, fixing
railroad rates for passengers and freight, and
creating a board of commissioners to enforce the
law. The railroads took the case to court, and in
the interim refused to obey the law; but the case
was decided against them by the state court and
the federal circuit court, and steps Were at Once
1120 WRIGHT.
WYOMING.
taken to revoke the charters of the railroads for
their violation of the law. For the time the
railroads yielded, but the good understanding be-
tween the “grangers” (see that title) and the dem-
Ocrats gave the latter most of the state officers,
and their candidate for governor, Taylor, was only
defeated by the close vote of 85,155 to 84,314.
But throughout these slight vicissitudes the re-
publicans retained control of the legislature, ex-
cept that in 1875 their regular candidate for United
States senator, Carpenter, was defeated by Cam-
eron, also a republican, through the votes of
democrats and “bolting” republicans. The legis-
lature in 1882–3 stands as follows: senate, twenty-
four republicans, nine democrats; house, seven-
ty-eight republicans, twenty-two democrats. –
Among the political leaders of the state have been
the following: Angus Cameron, republican United
States senator 1875–85; Matthew H. Carpenter,
republican United States senator 1869–75 and 1879
–81; Lucien B. Caswell, republican congressman
1875–83; Orsamus Cole, whig congressman 1849–51,
state chief justice at present (1884); P.V. Deuster,
democratic congressman 1879–85; Henry Dodge,
governor of Wisconsin territory 1836–41, delegate
to congress 1841–5, democratic United States sen-
ator 1848–57; James R. Doolittle, state circuit
judge 1853–6, republican United States senator
1857–69, democratic candidate for governor 1871;
Charles Durkee, free-soil congressman 1849–53,
republican United States senator 1855–61, governor
of Utah territory 1865–70; Charles A. Eldredge,
democratic congressman 1863–75; Richard Guen-
ther, republican congressman 1881–5; George
C. Hazelton, republican congressman, 1877–88;
Timothy O. Howe, state circuit and supreme
court judge 1850–55, republican United States
senator 1861–79, postmaster general under Pres-
ident Arthur; Wm. Pitt Lynde, democratic con-
gressman 1848–9 and 1875–9; Halbert E. Paine,
republican congressman 1865–71; E. G. Ryan,
chief justice of the state supreme court; Phile-
tus Sawyer, republican congressman 1865–75, and
|United States senator 1881–7; Cadwallader C.
Washburn, republican congressman 1855–61 and
1867–71, and governor 1872–4; and Charles G.
Williams, republican congressman 1873–83.− The
state was named from its principal river, the
Wisconsin, “Ouisconsin,” a mixed French and
Indian word, said to mean “westward flowing.”
—See 2 Poore's Federal and State Constitutions;
2 Hough's American Constitutions ; Wisconsin
Historical Society Collections; Lapham's Wiscon-
sin: Its Geography and Topography (1846); Smith’s
History of Wisconsin (1854); Love's Wisconsin in
the Rebellion (1866); 2. Wilson's Slave Power, 409;
Wisconsin. Reports : Tribune Almavac, 1846–83;
Appleton’s Annual Cyclopædia, 1861–82; the acts
of April 20, 1836, and March 3, 1847, are in 5
Stat. at Large, 10, and 9 Stat. at Large, 178.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WOMAN SUFFRAGE. (See SUFFRAGE)
WRIGHT, Silas, was born at Amherst, Mass.,
May 24, 1795, and died at Canton, N.Y., Aug. 27,
1847. He was graduated at Middlebury college.
in 1815, was admitted to the bar in 1819, and al-
most immediately entered politics as a democrat.
He served as surrogate of Rockland county 1821
–4, as state senator 1824–7, as congressman 1827
–9, as state comptroller 1829–33, as United States
Senator 1833–44, and governor 1844–6. About
1824 his ability had made him a leading member
of the “Albany regency” (see that title), which
controlled the state democratic party; and he held
his place in it until his death. Van Buren’s fail-
ure to receive the democratic nomination for the
presidency in 1844 placed the regency in an atti-
tude of armed neutrality toward the incoming
administration of Polk; and, when this state of
things had developed into open war in 1846,
Wright was defeated for re-election as governor
by the refusal of administration democrats to
vote. His death soon afterward added to the
bitterness of feeling between his followers and
their opponents, and the state party in 1848 made
the conflict national. (See BARNBURNERs; HUNK-.
ERs ; FREE-SOIL PARTY ; NEW YORK ; DEMO-
CRATIC PARTY, IV.) — See Hammond’s Life and
Times of Wright, Jenkins' Life of Wright, Jen-
kins’ Governors of Wew York, 722; 12 Democratic
Review, 198, and 19 ib., 349 (with portraits);
Gillet’s Democracy ºn the United States, 176; 2.
Benton's Thirty Years’ View, 700.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WYOMING, a district in the northeastern part.
of Pennsylvania, the seat of a long conflict of
jurisdiction between Pennsylvania and Connecti-
cut. Attention is elsewhere called (see TERRI-
TORIES) to some of the difficulties which were
occasioned by the undefined western boundaries
of Massachusetts, Connecticut, Virginia, and the
three colonies south of Virginia. In the case of
Connecticut the difficulty was increased by the
fact that a western prolongation of its territory,
passing over the Dutch settlements on the Hudson
river, specially excepted under the head of pos--
sessions of ‘‘any other Christian prince or state,”
would have taken a strip of land about 120 miles.
wide from the northern part of Pennsylvania.
Connecticut’s assertion of her rights took the form.
of a private association, the “Susquehanna com-
pany,” organized in 1753, and backed by the colo-
nial government. In 1754 the company sent com-
missioners to meet the council of the Six Nations.
at Albany (see ALBANY PLAN OF UNION), in order
to purchase the Indian title. Franklin and the
other Pennsylvania commissioners, aided by Sir
William Johnson, of New York, endeavored to
prevent the purchase, but it was effected for
£2,000. The eastern boundary was to be an ir-
regular northerly line at a distance of ten miles.
east of the Susquehanna from latitude 41° north
to latitude 42° north; thence two degrees of longi-
tude west; thence 120 miles south; and east to the
place of beginning. In 1762 the company sent.
WYOMING.
1121
its first party of settlers, 200 in number; but the
Indians attacked and dispersed them, sent a depu-
tation to Hartford in 1763 to repudiate the sale to
the company, and in 1768 resold the same territory
to Pennsylvania. In 1769 the company, disre-
garding the Indian transactions, again began to
throw immigrants into Wyoming, and a desultory
civil war began between the Connecticut settlers
and the Pennsylvania men to whom the district
had been leased. The former were several times
driven altogether out of the valley, and compelled
to return to Connecticut, but their persistence was
successful within two years in obtaining a perma-
nent lodgment. This result was due in great
measure to the faulty land policy of Pennsyl-
vania, whose proprietors, the Penn family, made
it their regular policy, whenever it was possible,
to grant leases only. Franklin says of Penn's
initiation of this policy : “The scene of action
being shifted from the mother country to the col-
ony, the deportment of the legislator was shifted
too. Less of the man of God now appeared, and
more of the man of the world. One point he had
already carried against the inclination of his fol-
lowers, namely, the reservation of quit rents,
which they had remonstrated against as a burden
in itself, and, added to the purchase money, with-
out precedent in any other colony; but, he art-
fully insinuating that government must be sup-
ported with splendor and dignity, and that by this
expedient they would be exempt from other taxes,
the bait took, and the point was carried.” It was
unnatural to expect that mere lessees would exhib-
it the same spirit in conflict as men who were
maintaining a claim for absolute ownership. In
other words, the struggle was between two oppo-
site land systems, that of freeholders and that of
leaseholders. While this was the case, the result
was not doubtful, and the success of the Connect-
icut settlers was not displeasing to most of the
Pennsylvania people, who disliked the proprietary
government and the proprietary land system.–In
1773 the Wyoming settlement had gained so much
strength that it began to have ambitious views of
independent existence as a separate colony, and
the company, meeting at Hartford, June 2, 1773,
adopted a form of government for it. But the
legislature of Connecticut, having been fortified
'by the favorable opinion of a number of the best
lawyers in Great Britain, Dunning, Jackson,
Widderburn and Thurlow, asserted the colony's
jurisdiction over the Susquehanna company’s ter-
ritory. In 1774 it was made a town under the
name of Westmoreland, and was to be considered
a part of Litchfield county, Connecticut. The
town for several years sent delegates to the Con-
necticut legislature. The breaking out of the
difficulties with the mother country suspended all
minor disputes, and the contest was suspended
throughout the revolutionary war, except that the
attack on Wyoming and massacre of its defend-
ers, in July, 1778, seem to have been influenced
in a slight degree by the feeling that the settlers
were interlopers. — In 1779 an act of the Pennsyl-
190 VOL. III. — 71
vania legislature transferred all the proprietary
quit rents to the state, reserving the proprietors’
private property to them, and granting them
$524,000 compensation for quit rents, payable in
installments after the peace. The new lord of
the soil, the State, at once abandoned the lease-
hold system in future sales, and thus renewed the
contest with the Connecticut settlers on equal
terms. Under the provision of the articles of
confederation which made congress a court of
last resort for the trial of title to territory disput-
ed between the states, Pennsylvania brought suit
against Connecticut to decide the jurisdiction of
Wyoming. The case was heard by five judges at
Trenton, and in November, 1782, their unanimous
decision, afterward confirmed by congress, was
given in favor of Pennsylvania. By this time a
number of Pennsylvanians had settled in the ter-
ritory, and when these proceeded to elect justices
of the peace the Pennsylvania legislature, in Sep-
tember, 1783, directed the governor to commission
the officers so elected. This began the “war of
the Pennamites and the Yankees.” The Con-
necticut settlers had submitted to the decision of
congress, and given up their town organization;
but they expected that their Connecticut titles to
land would be respected or quieted. The condi-
tions offered by Pennsylvania were intolerable:
the Connecticut settlers were to surrender half
their lands at once, to retain possession of the
other half for one year, and were then to surren-
der the whole to claimants under Pennsylvania
titles. The settlers resisted, led by John Frank-
lin and others, and prevented state agents from
laying out townships or counties; and their resist-
ance had so much sympathy from the people of
Tennsylvania that the legislature, Sept. 15, 1784,
suspended proceedings. For the next two years
the district was in a very anomalous condition,
until in September, 1786, Pickering (see his name)
procured, the adoption of two complementary
measures which bade fair to settle the whole diffi-
culty. Luzerne county was established, and the
district was thus brought within the jurisdiction
of Pennsylvania, and the petitions of the Con-
necticut settlers for a confirmation of their titles
were granted by a confirmatory act. By Picker-
ing's active exertions, the settlers were brought to
agree to the settlement in May, 1787; but in the
following year the legislature, having secured the
organization of the county, repealed the confirma-
tory act, and this shocking piece of bad faith
(“unjust and cruel,” Pickering calls it) reopened
the difficulty. Suits were brought by Pennsyl-
vania claimants against the settlers; but it required
more than eight years to decide the first suit, and
the unfavorable issue of this one had no effect on,
the persistence of the other settlers. Finally,
April 4, 1799, the legislature passed a compromise
act, which secured possession to those who held
Connecticut titles, acquired before the Trenton de-
cision of 1782, on the payment of Small sums rang-
ing from 84 cents to $2 an acre. The war of the
Pennamites and Yankees was thus ended. — See
1122 WYOMING TERRITORY.
X Y Z MISSION.
Miner's History of Wyoming; Stone's History of
Wyoming; Peck's History of Wyoming; 3 Frank.
lin's Works, 123; Pickering's Comcise Narrative of
the Wyoming Dispute (1798), and authorities under
PICKERING. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
WYOMING TERRITORY, a territory of the
TJnited States, north of Colorado and Utah. Its
area (97,883 square miles) was a part of the
Louisiana cession (See ANNEXATIONS, I.), ex-
cept the southwestern strip, about one degree
in width, about two-thirds of the length of the
territory, and containing 14,320 square miles,
which was a part of the Mexican cession. (See
ANNEXATIONs, IV.) The territory was organ-
ized by act of July 25, 1868, and by the cen-
sus of 1880 its population is 20,789. Its capi-
tal is Cheyenne. The act of July 25, 1868, is
in 15 Stat. at Large, 178.
'. ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
X
V Y Z MISSION (IN U. S. HISTORy). The
relations between the French republic and
the United States had been steadily becoming
more tightly strained for years before the inaugu-
ration of President John Adams in 1797, more es-
pecially by reason of the manner in which France
had seized American provision ships (see EMBAR-
Go, I.), and permitted illegal captures of American
vessels by her privateers. The position of France
was more advantageous from the fact that she re-
spected, and pretended to respect, no international
law whatever. Her assumed place was not that
of a coequal unit in the family of nations, but that
of an apostle of liberty, limited in her action only
by her own conceptions of expediency. Appeals
to treaties violated by France met an easy answer
in declamatory references to liberty; and any na-
tion refusing to strengthen the hands of France
was a self-confessed enemy to liberty and to
France. In dealing with both France and Great
Britain, Washington's policy was an armed neu-
trality, but no party supported him cordially in
all its features. The republicans (democrats)
tended from the beginning to an unarmed depend-
ence upon France; and the federalists, as they
grew to be more openly a commercial party, tend-
ed to an armed dependence upon Great Britain.
Washington's policy was successful in checkmat-
ing Genet (see his name), and in keeping succeed-
ing French envoys within limits for some years.
But even Washington had to yield to the growing
change in the federal party which dates from Jay's
treaty (see both these titles) with Great Britain;
and Adams, at his inauguration, found his party
as much disposed to pick a quarrel with France as
France was certain to furnish the opportunity,
and far less disposed to submit to a counterbal-
ancing influence from him than from his prede-
cessor. — In return for the recall of Genet, the
French republic had asked and obtained the recall
of Gouverneur Morris, the American minister,
who had not even affected any sympathy with the
course of the French revolution. In his place was
sent James Monroe, who proved much more ac-
ceptable to France. The French republic (see
EMBARGO, I.) had already begun those interfer-
ences with American commerce which provoked
English retaliatory interferences; and these con
sequences, in their turn, made the French aggres-
sions increasingly annoying. Most of the English
annoyances were removed by Jay's treaty; as to
France the United States still depended upon the
old treaty of alliance of 1778. But France, in ad-
dition to her long-standing grievance arising from
Washington's policy of neutrality, of which she
could hardly complain openly, had now a plaus-
ible ground of complaint in what she chose to con-
sider the American alliance with Great Britain.
In February, 1796, one of the directory informed
Monroe that the treaty of 1778 was at an end from
the moment of the ratification of Jay's treaty; to
which Monroe very properly replied that the treaty
had already been brought to nothing by the con-
stant French captures of American vessels. – In
other points of his diplomatic intercourse Monroe
had not so well satisfied either Washington or the
cabinet. He had been given in advance a com-
plete vindication of Jay's treaty for the informa-
tion of the French government, but had not pre-
sented it, believing that it was intended to be held
in readiness to answer formal complaints. And
in general his diplomatic language was altogether
ill advised and unfitting an ambassador. As a
single instance, his letter of Sept. 3, 1794, to the
committee of public safety, declared that, if they
should be of opinion that the French infractions
of the treaty were productive of “any solid bene-
fit to the republic, the American government and
my countrymen in general will not only bear the
departure with patience, but with pleasure.”
Their tone of pitiful subservience makes it diffi-
cult to read Monroe's official communications, as
collected and published by himself, with either
pleasure or patience; and, after a sharp rebuke
from Pickering, in June, 1796, he was recalled, and
Charles Cotesworth Pinckney was sent in his place.
+ By this time the control of the French revolu-
tion had passed from the madness of the many to
the selfishness of the few. The executive direct-
ory now enjoyed a power of which the military
ability of Napoleon had been the first foundation
and was still the principal buttress; and under its
leadership the French republic was employing for
pure self-aggrandizement the exemption from in-
ternational law which it had at first asserted in the
name of liberty. And Napoleon, from the begin.
X Y. Z MISSION.
1123
ining, saw the limit which the British channel
would put to the conquest of Europe, and the
manner in which alone he could pass it, by giving
the English fleets employment elsewhere. In 1797,
after the peace of Campo Formis, he wrote: “We
must set all our strength upon the sea; we must
destroy England; and the continent is at our feet.”
But the same year had already seen the destruction
of the Spanish fleet off St. Vincent, and of the
Dutch fleet at Camperdown; and from this time
until 1812 Napoleon never ceased the effort, by
bluster, by kindness, or by fraud, to make the
long and stormy coast of North America his most
efficient ally against Great Britain. — A few days
before Pinckney’s arrival the French minister of
foreign relations informed Monroe what formal-
ities were to be observed in taking leave. Dec. 9,
1796, Monroe presented his letter of recall, and
Pinckney his letter of credence. Two days after,
Monroe received written notice that no American
minister would be received until the French griev-
ances should be redressed, and that the French
minister to the United States would be recalled;
and yet, at the end of the month, he accepted a
public reception from the directory, at which the
president, Barras, without remonstrance from him,
publicly announced that France “would not stoop
to calculate the consequences of the condescension
of the American government to the wishes of its
ancient tyrants.” Pinckney was left in Paris,
refused recognition by the directory, and even
threatened with police surveillance, until the latter
part of January, 1797, when he received written
notice to quit France, and retired to Holland to
awaitinstructions from home. — Adams was intent
upon following up the policy of neutrality, but
this news left him little option. He called a spe-
cial session of congress for May 16, 1797, and
stated his intention of sending a new mission to
|France, to conciliate that country, if possible, but
at the same time recommended the prompt for-
mation of a navy and a general permission to
private vessels to arm in self-defense. For the
mission he named Pinckney, John Marshall, and
Francis Dana, chief justice of Massachusetts,
and these were confirmed by the senate. Dana
declining, Elbridge Gerry was substituted, being
specially acceptable to his close personal friend,
the president, and, as a democrat, to France also.
In October, 1797, the three met at Paris, and un-
dertook to open negotiations with the directory.
One leading complaint on the part of France evi-
dently awaited them. The treaty of 1778 had es-
tablished the principle (between France and the
United States) that “free ships made free goods,”
that enemy’s property, excepting contraband of
war, was not to be captured in a friendly ship.
Jay's treaty, on the contrary, allowed the capture
of enemy’s property in friendly ships; so that
France complained that her ships could not law-
fully take English property from American ves-
Sels, while British ships were not so restrained as
to French property. On this head, the commis-
Sioners were empowered to grant to France the
same privilege which Jay's treaty granted to Great
Britain. They were also directed to demand, but
not as a Sine gua mon, compensation for past inju-
ries to American commerce; and they were forbid-
den to consent to any loan, under any guise. —
While the commissioners were engaged in Paris
during the winter, and while little was known of
their proceedings, owing to difficulty of winter
communication, politics in the United States came
to a complete stand-still. The federalists were
thoroughly alarmed by the state of affairs in Eu-
rope, and the dubious prospects of a single-handed
war with France. The French armies had the
continent at their feet, and even Great Britain had
become anxious for peace. A conflict with France,
that is, with continental Europe, was certainly
not at any time to be sought wantonly by a back-
woods nation of 3,000,000 souls, inhabiting an
enormous territory and politically divided among
themselves; but the case was infinitely worse if
the British navy was to leave the ocean open to
the unopposed transport of French troops. Both
political parties were afraid to take a step forward,
and their uneasiness was increased by the fact,
that, though the federalists controlled the senate,
there was no party majority in the house of rep-
resentatives. That body was controlled by a num-
ber of members of doubtful political sympathies,
without whose support neither party could do any-
thing. Thus, in spite of the president’s recom-
mendations to equip a navy, arm private vessels,
and fortify the coast, nothing was done through-
out the winter. March 5, 1798, the president no-
tified congress that cipher dispatches, dated from
November until January, had arrived from the
commissioners; and March 19, having deciphered
them, he sent another message, in which, with-
out detailing the contents of the dispatches, he
summed them up in the information that the com-
missioners could gain no terms that were “com-
patible with the safety, the honor or the essential
interests of the nation.” This first thunder-clap
was so effective that the house promptly passed
bills to equip three frigates, and to prohibit the ex-
portation of arms; and the senate passed bills to
authorize the lease of cannon foundries and the
purchase of sixteen additional vessels of war. In
Spite of the long series of aggressions upon Amer-
ican commerce by both Great Britain and France,
these were the first belligerent preparations made
by the United States under the constitution. To
check them, it was at first hoped by the democrats
that an adjournment of congress might be secured;
but this was impossible without the consent of the
Senate. As a second choice, resolutions were of.
fered, March 27, that it was not expedient, under
existing circumstances, “to resort to war” against
France, or to arm merchant vessels. One of the
leaders, Giles, during the debate, attacked the
president for not communicating the dispatches;
whereupon the federalists offered a resolution call-
ing on the president for copies of such dispatches
as were proper to be communicated. To prevent
an invidious selection from the dispatches, the
1124
X Y. Z MISSION.
democrats insisted on making the call for all the
dispatches; and in this form the resolution was
passed, April 2. The copies were sent the next
day, the president being willing to gratify demo-
cratic curiosity to the fullest extent. One may
imagine the absolute stupefaction of the demo-
cratic leaders as the coup de theátre, which they
themselves had assisted in preparing, fell upon
them as the dispatches were read. — In brief, the
commissioners had been kept waiting in Paris for
six months without official recognition, had been
approached by unofficial go-betweens with propo-
sals for bribes to the directory and the French
treasury as indispensable prerequisites to peace,
and, on their refusal, had been ordered out of
France. On reaching Paris, they had found that
Talleyrand, lately a royalist exile, was now the
minister of foreign affairs. They had applied to
him at once for an interview, but had been in-
formed that he could not grant it until he had fin-
ished a report to the directory on American affairs.
This answer had hardly been given when Talley-
rand’s unofficial agents appeared on the scene, and
opened communications with the commissioners.
In the dispatches, as sent to congress, the names
of the agents were honorably kept secret, letters
of the alphabet being substituted for them. The
principal agents were M. Hottinguer (designated
as X), M. Bellamy, a Hamburgh merchant (Y),
and M. Hauteval, formerly resident in Boston (Z);
and from these the whole transaction took its pop-
ular name of the ‘‘ X Y Z mission.” Their ap-
pearance had been heralded by information,
through Talleyrand’s secretary, that the directory
were greatly exasperated by some passages in the
president's message, that persons would be ap-
pointed to conduct the negotiations, and that they
would report to him (the secretary). Oct. 18, X
called on Pinckney with a message from Talley-
rand: it would be necessary, in order to calm the
exasperation of the directory, that a bribe of
1,200,000 livres (£50,000) should first be given
them. Pinckney refused to discuss the matter
without his colleagues, and X the next day
laid written propositions before the envoys. The
bribe to the directory was now supplemented
by the demand of a “loan * to the French repub-
lic: if both were agreed to, the directory would
restore the treaty of 1778, and submit American
claims for damages to arbitration, provided also
that the American government would “advance”
money to pay any damages awarded against
France. Within the next few days, Y and Z
appeared, and the proposed form of the loan was
explained. France had extorted from her “sis-
ter republic” of Holland, and still held, shares of
stock amounting to 32,000,000 florins (£2,560,000),
worth about half their par value. The United
States envoys were to offer to buy these at par;
and, as Holland was certain to pay them at par
after the war, the whole transaction would really
be only a loan. But Y put the whole negotiation
into a nutshell thus: “I will not disguise from
you that, this satisfaction being made, the essen-
tial part of the treaty remains to be adjusted: il
faut de l'argent, il faut beaucoup d'argent—you
must pay money, you must pay a great deal of
money.” They informed the envoys that nothing
could be done in Paris without money; that one
of the directory was in the pay of the privateers-
men who had been plundering American com-
merce; that Hamburg and other European states
had been compelled to buy a peace; and that the
United States must do the same. The envoys
nursed the negotiation very skillfully, proposing
to send one of their number home for instructions,
to suspend French captures in the meantime, and
to do various inadmissible things, until they had
accumulated a most unsavory mass of “ diplo-
matic” matter. Oct. 27, X became impatient.
“Said he Gentlemen, you do not speak to the
point; it is money; it is expected that you will
offer money. We said that we had spoken to
that point very explicitly: we had given an an-
swer. No, said he: you have not; what is your
answer? We replied. It is no; no; no; not a
sixpence.” This plain, manly and simple answer
is probably the one which was distorted into the
more bombastic form, much more popular in
America : “Millions for defense, but not a cent
for tribute.” — The next day Talleyrand himself
had an interview with Gerry, Z acting as inter-
preter. He informed Gerry that unless the envoys
“assumed powers, and made a loan” within a
week, the directory would issue a decree demand-
ing an explanation of objectionable passages in
Adams' message. On Gerry's report, the envoys
unitedly sent word to Talleyrand that they would
assume no such powers, and that he need not
delay the decree on their account. On the follow-
ing day X became still more urgent. He offered
to allow the envoys to remain in Paris and com-
municate with their government as to the “loan,”
provided the bribe to the directory was paid; but,
in default of this condition, threatened the expul-
sion of the envoys from France, and a declaration
of war against the United States. This the en-
voys answered by flatly declining any further ne-
gotiations with unofficial agents, and here their
mission really ended. The remainder of their six
months in Paris was spent in preparing memorials
to Talleyrand, writing dispatches to their own gov-
ernment, and repulsing the continued efforts of
X, Y and Z to renew their negotiations. It was
not until April 3, 1798, that Talleyrand dismissed
Pinckney and Marshall, and then only by a let-
ter to Gerry stating that he supposed they had
“ thought it useful and proper,” by this time, to
quit the territories of the republic. Marshall
sailed for home April 16, but Pinckney was de-
tained for several months by the illness of a daugh-
ter. — The powers given to the envoys had been
joint and several, and Talleyrand, ever since the
preceding December, had tried to persuade Gerry
to use his own power and make a treaty. Now,
on dismissing Pinckney and Marshall, he ex-
pressed his desire that Gerry should remain so em-
phatically that Gerry obeyed, fearing a declara-
X Y. Z MISSION.
1125
tion of war if he should depart unauthorized.
At the same time he informed Talleyrand that he
would only confer informally and unaccredited.
He remained in Paris until early in August, when
he at last received a passport, and obeyed the im-
perative directions of his government to return at
once. Before his departure news arrived of the
explosion which the dispatches of the envoys had
caused in America, whereupon Talleyrand indig.
nantly denied all knowledge of the X Y Z nego-
tiations, and called upon Gerry to give him the
names of the “wretched intriguers” who had
taken advantage of the envoys. This indignation
blinded no one; and Y, who had taken refuge in
Hamburgh, made a counter-declaration that he
had never taken a step in the negotiations with-
out Talleyrand’s knowledge and direction. —
The effect of the dispatches upon the democrats
in congress was increased by the persistence with
which both Talleyrand and his agents had re-
turned to the assertion that their friends in Amer-
ica would believe and trust them rather than the
federalist commissioners. They had so far mis-
taken the party, said Jefferson, “as to suppose
their first passion to be attachment to France and
latred of the federal party, and not love of their
country.” At any rate, the allegation made the
democrats (or republicans) for the time a highly
unpopular party. A flame of warlike feeling
Tourst out from the country at large, and war meet-
ings, processions and addresses to the president,
volunteering, and private subscriptions of money
and war vessels for government use, became the
order of the day. The black cockade, the revolu-
tionary badge, was generally worn; two new pa-
triotic songs, “Hail Columbia.” and “Adams and
Liberty,’” became highly popular; and the presi-
dent, careering at the head of the storm, felt for
Once that he liked the people and that the people
liked him. In the only doubtful portion of con-
gress, the house of representatives, all the doubt-
ful members, and many of the democrats, fell in-
stantly into line with the federalists. The senate
bills for increasing the navy and purchasing foun-
dries were passed at once, and the necessary ap-
propriations were made. The navy, hitherto un-
der control of the secretary of war, was made a
separate department (April 30). The president
was authorized to enlist 10,000 regular troops, and
10,000 volunteers, if any foreign power should
invade or declare war against the United States
within three years (May 28). American vessels of
war were authorized to capture any “armed ves-
Sels, sailing under authority or pretense of author-
ity from the republic of France,” which should
commit depredations on American commerce (May
28). American merchant vessels were authorized
to resist capture by French vessels (June 25); and
American war vessels and privateers were finally
authorized (July 9) to capture armed French ves-
sels of every description. Commercial intercourse
between the United States and France and her
dependencies was suspended (June 13); and a brief
act of July 9 declared the treaties with France no
longer binding upon the United States, since
France had repeatedly violated them, refused rep-
aration, and “repelled with indignity” all at-
tempts to negotiate. Acts were also passed for
the imposition of a direct tax, for a loan upon
the credit of the direct tax, and for a general
loan of $5,000,000. — In strong contrast to the
vulgar notion of the belligerency of democra-
cies, the American republic has always aimed
at peace. Nevertheless, its people have always
been proud of its potential weight in war, and
have been fond of looking forward to the day
when its irresistible growth in power should re-
duce to an evident littleness the high-sounding
international wars of the continent of their fore-
fathers. In any such point of view the little his-
tory of the nation's first defiance to an equal mem-
ber of the family of nations, of the quasi war of
1798 against France, and of the scattered sea bat-
tles in which the little navy acquitted itself so
brilliantly, must always be an interesting point of
departure. Had the dominant party stopped with
the preparations above detailed, even its oppo-
nents must have acknowledged the vigor and suc-
cess of its administration. But the time was one
of political passion more intense than can well be
conceived now. Each party had inherited many
of the practices, and still more of the apprehen-
sions, arising from previous party conflict in the
mother country, where parties had not hesitated
to assail one another, if not by force, at least by
a forcible wrenching of the laws from their proper
purposes. To the democrats, the provisional
army, officered almost exclusively by federalists,
seemed to be not only a means to provide salaries
for their opponents, but a possible weapon of
offense in party warfare. The step was defended
by the federalists on the ground of the danger of
an invasion of the southern states by a force of
negro soldiers from the French West India islands,
who would excite a slave insurrection. For the
more flagrant measures, the alien and sedition
laws (see that title), little defense could be offered.
They were distinctly partisan. Under the opera-
tion of the sedition law, Hamilton published with
impunity a pamphlet attack on the president,
holding up to view his “disgusting egotism, dis-
tempered jealousy, and ungovernable indiscre-
tion,” and styling him an “arrogant pretender to
superior and exclusive merit”; while democratic
politicians were arrested and tried for even circu-
lating petitions against the Sedition law, or for ex-
pressing a wish that the wadding of a cannon
might strike the president in the broadest part of
his person. Supposing the next congress should
prevent the embarrassing feature of a democratic
majority in the house of representatives, was the
majority to be removed by a series of arrests un-
der the sedition law, supported by the provisional
army? The counter-movement of the democratic
leaders is elsewhere given. (See KENTUCKY RES-
oDUTIONS, NULLIFICATION.) Whatever its objects
may have been, it need only be said here that the
apprehensions which led to it were unfounded,
1126
X Y Z MISSION.
and that the federalists attempted no such use of
the sedition law. —Even before Gerry’s depart-
ure, Talleyrand had received news of the stir
which the dispatches of the envoys had excited
in the United States, and the effect was instant.
The directory protested their desire for peace,
and in August issued several decrees, releasing
American prisoners, raising the embargo on Amer-
ican ships, and cautioning French vessels to do
no injury to legitimate American vessels. They
even drew a veil over the language of President
Adams' messages, for which they had formerly
demanded satisfaction, but which had now grown
into an indictment of the directory’s principles,
practices and manners, of a warmth unheard of
elsewhere at the time ; and they semi-officially
offered to receive a new American minister. But
Adams, in his message of June 21, 1798, an-
nouncing Marshall’s arrival, had declared that he
“would never send another minister to France
without assurances that he would be received, re-
spected and honored as the representative of a
great, free, powerful and independent nation.”
And in his annual message of Dec. 8, 1798, his
language rose to concert pitch : he declined to
send another minister to France without more de-
terminate assurances, left it to France to take the
requisite steps to accommodation, and gave that
country “deliberate and solemn” warning that,
“whether we negotiate with her or not, vigorous
preparations for war will be alike indispensable.”
Meanwhile Talleyrand had been casting about for
a channel through which to convey the assurances
necessary; and had found it in William Wans
Murray, the American minister to Holland. Nor
was Adams unwilling to receive the assurances,
for he had already found that war with France
involved the elevation of Hamilton, whom he
cordially detested. Washington had accepted the
position of lieutenant general, conferred upon
him at the previous session, on condition that he
should be allowed to name his subordinates. As
the three next in rank to himself he had named
Hamilton, C. C. Pinckney and Knox, who were
confirmed; but the president insisted on making
Knox the senior, on the ground of his superior
revolutionary rank, and only yielded before Wash-
ington's threat of a resignation of his own com-
mission. Hamilton was thus to be practically
commander-in-chief of the provisional army. He
had already become commander-in-chief of the
president’s cabinet, which had been inherited from
Washington; its members maintained a close and
confidential intercourse with him, in striking con-
trast to the increasing contempt which their cor-
respondence expressed for their nominal chief.
To refuse Talleyrand’s overtures in order to put
Hamilton at the head of an army for the invasion
of Florida and Louisiana, perhaps to make him a
conquering hero and a popular candidate for the
presidency, was more than could be expected
from Adams. He could not trust his cabinet;
and, without giving its members any hint of his
intention, he nominated Murray as minister to
France, Feb. 18, 1799, and a week afterward.
added Chief Justice Ellsworth and Patrick Hen-
ry to the commission. Henry declined, and Gov.
William R. Davis, of North Carolina, was named
in his place. The blow confounded the pres-
ident’s party. Every influence was unsuccess-
fully brought to bear on the president and on
the senate to balk the nominations. The cabinet.
officers lost their heads: instead of either resign-
ing or keeping silence, they protested against the
step, and thus finally lost the president’s confi-
dence. The federal party, which had begun the
year in high and united confidence, was now con-
vulsed by sudden feud, the president stigmatizing
his federalist opponents as a British faction; and
the latter equally dreading, distrusting and dis-
liking the president. The new mission to France.
had not only dissolved the provisional army; it
had thrown the whole federal policy into the air.
It is in itself a condemnation of the party that its
policy should have been reduced by this time to a
single card—the continuance of the hostile atti-
tude toward France; when this was gone, the fire.
of the party was out.— At first everything seeined.
to promise quick success to the 11ew mission.
Murray had been informed of his appointment,
with the reservation that the other two members.
would not set sail until full assurances had been
received as to their reception. Talleyrand hastened.
to give such assurances in the amplest terms.
Before the instructions for the envoys had been:
completed, the face of affairs in Europe had been:
so changed as to give the federalists some fresh.
courage. Disasters to the French arms had been
steadily growing more serious; Napoleon, the di-
rectory's genius, was blocked up in Egypt or
Syria; and in June, 1799, a new revolution dis-
placed all but one of the directory. The govern-
ment which had given the assurances of a kindly
reception of the envoys was no longer in power;
and the federalists urged the president to stop
their embarkation until new assurances should be
given. It may be that the revived federalist spirit
was also due to the ascertained fact that the new
house of representatives (1799–1801) would be
federalist as well as the Senate, a Southern re-
enforcement having established a party majority
there. Oct. 16, the president again chilled his.
party by directing, without consulting his cabinet,
the immediate embarkation of Ellsworth and
Davis. This step was attributed at the time to the
president's frantic jealousy of Hamilton, who had
inopportunely made his appearance in Trenton
(then the temporary seat of government) at the
same time with the cabinet and envoys, as if for
consultation with them. It is now well Settled
that Adams' motive was mainly the pacific policy
which has been the almost invariable rule with
American presidents (see ExECUTIVE, III.); and
that his action in this case differed from Washing
ton's action on Jay's treaty only in the difference
of mode due to the different characters of the
two men. Nevertheless, this new reason for dis-
trusting the president, together with the impossi-
YAZOO FRAUDS.
1127
bility of ignoring in the approaching election the
representative of New England, the section from
which most of the federalist electoral votes were
to come, left the party leaders in a quandary.
Their only apparent road of escape was in the ef-
fort to make C. C. Pinckney president and Adams
vice-president, and this road led straight to the
overthrow of the party in 1800–1. (See CAUCUs,
CoNGRESSIONAL, I.; FEDERAL PARTY, I.) — The
envoys found, that, by the new revolution of Nov.
9, 1799, Napoleon, who had suddenly returned
from Egypt the preceding month, had become
first consul. Three commissioners were appoint-
ed to treat with them, and a convention was
signed Sept. 30, 1800. It secured safety for
American commerce for the future, until England
and France in turn began to violate international
decency in their attacks on neutral commerce (see
EMBARGO); but Napoleon was ingenious enough
to obtain a mutual abandonment of claims for
damages, by reason of the declaration of congress
in 1798, that the treaties with France were no
longer in force. In this form it was finally rati-
fied by both parties, and declared in force Dec.
21, 1801. — See 1 Tucker's United States, 597 foll. ;
2 ibid. (table of contents); 5 Hildreth’s United
States (table of contents); 1 von Holst’s United
States, 138 foll.; 1 Schouler's United States, 373;
2 Marshall’s Life of Washington, 424; Monroe's
View of the Conduct of the Evecutive, 34; Hamil-
ton's Public Conduct and Character of John Adams,
Esq., 12; 2 Benton's Debates of Congress, 225 foll.
(see index under FRANCE); 2 Wait's State Papers
(2d edit.), 187–499 (complaints of France and of
the United States); 3 ibid., 456–499, and 4 ibid.,
1–137 (X Y. Z dispatches in full); 1 Statesman’s
Manual, 116, 117 (messages of March 19 and Dec.
8, 1798); 1 Stat. at Large, 552 foll. (war acts of
1798); 1 Lyman's Diplomacy of the United States;
Trescott's Diplomatic History of the Administra-
tions of Washington and Adams, 158 foll, ; 8 Stat.
at Large, 178 (convention of 1800.) The demo-
cratic version of affairs will be found in 1 Ran-
dall’s Life of Jefferson, 387 foll.; 3 Jefferson’s
Works (edit. 1830), 384–422; the Adams version in
8 John Adams’ Works, 546–681, 9 ib., 10–307, and
the numerous notes and references appended there-
to; and the version of the federalists opposed to
Adams in 2 Gibbs’ Administrations of Washington
and Adams, 15 foll. See also authorities under the
respective parties, and under articles referred to.
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON.
Y
AZOO FRAUDS (IN U. S. HISTORY), the
name commonly given to a land act passed
by the Georgia legislature in 1795, and to certain
claims arising under it, which were not settled
until 1814. — Georgia began her existence as a
state with doubtful claims to the territory west of
her present area. (See TERRITORIES.) The In-
dian title had been extinguished in but a part of
the state, bounded east by the Savannah river up
to a considerable distance above Augusta, and
west by the Altamaha and Oconee. The rest of
the state belonged to the Indians, principally
Cherokees and Creeks, but over all of it the state.
claimed sovereignty and jurisdiction, and the ex-
clusive right to pre-empt lands from the Indians.
(See CHEROKEE CASE.) When, therefore, the
state sold lands, the sale was really of the right of
pre-emption. In this manner a bargain was made
in 1789 to transfer about 15,000,000 acres to three
land companies for about $200,000; but the com-
panies insisted on paying for the lands in depre-
ciated Georgia paper, whereupon the legislature
declared the bargain at an end. — This abortive
sale furnished a precedent for the increasing land
speculations which grew to be a mania during the
twenty years, 1780–1800. During the first fifteen
years of this mania it had almost exhausted the
sale of whatever lands the states had not covered
by military land warrants. Georgia's vague and
doubtful territorial claims seem to have at last
attracted attention as a promising field for specu-
lation. Four land companies were formed, the
Georgia company, the Georgia Mississippi com-
pany, the Upper Mississippi company, and the
Tennessee company, commonly called, in general,
the Yazoo companies, from the general field of
their operations, in the Yazoo district. These
joined forces in an attack upon the Georgia legis-
lature, and obtained from it the passage of the act
of Jan. 7, 1795, the most extraordinary piece of
state legislation in our history. It purported to
transfer to the companies named, for a considera-
tion of $500,000, a tract of land then estimated
at 20,000,000, but afterward found to contain
35,000,000, acres. The price, about one and two-
thirds cents per acre, for the richest farm land in
the country, was certainly suspicious, but the act
itself kindly furnished to the companies the means
of corrupting the legislature: one clause contained
a provision allowing the companies to take up,
on the same terms, 2,000,000 acres additional, for
the benefit of whatever “citizens of Georgia”
they should admit as their partners. And so little
care was taken by the participants to cover their
tracks that the United States commissioners in
1802–3 had only to compare the schedule of part-
ners acknowledged by the companies with the legis-
lature's yea and may votes to show that every mem-
ber of both senate and house who voted for the act
of 1795 had been bribed by a share of the 2,000,000
acres, with a single exception, Robert Watkins,
whose name deserves to be recorded. The brib-
ery was effected in the manner now familiar, by
assigning a number of acres to the legislator,
1128
YAZOO FRAUDS.
excusing him from payment until the market price
had risen to forty or fifty times the stipulated
price, and then paying him the difference. — The
publication of the act aroused an instant storm
of indignation throughout the state. In every
county but two the grand juries presented the act
as unconstitutional and void; and when the state
convention met in May, 1795, it was deluged with
petitions, memorials and remonstrances against
the land act. These it transferred to the attention
of the next winter's legislature, so that the elec-
tion of that body turned on the Yazoo question.
When it met, the members who had voted for the
act had disappeared from state politics; Jackson,
the United States senator, had resigned his seat
and entered the state legislature to lead the anti-
Yazoo majority; and an act was passed, Feb. 13,
1796, revoking the sale as a violation of the state
constitution, illegal and void, and directing the re-
payment of purchase money to all purchasers who
should apply for it within eight months. The act
of 1795 was then publicly burned in front of the
state house, the two houses attending in a body:
the committee handed the act to the president of
the Senate, he to the speaker of the house, he to
the clerk, and he to the doorkeeper, who threw it
into the fire. All evidence of its passage was ex-
punged from the records; and the constitution of
1798, while forever prohibiting sales of lands to
individuals or companies before counties were
fixed, ordered the land companies’ purchase
money to be kept in the state treasury at the com-
panies’ risk, and subject to their order of with-
drawal. — One would imagine that all these pro-
ceedings were a sufficient evidence of a cloud
upon the companies’ title to make intending pur-
chasers exceedingly cautious. They seem to have
had no great difficulty, however, in disposing of
their lands at a sufficient advance to give them a
handsome profit; and, as the third parties con-
tinued to sell, an army of claimants was gradu-
ally formed, particularly in New England and the
middle states. When Georgia, in 1802, ceded her
western claims to the United States, clauses in
the compact confirmed Georgia's previous grants,
and provided that not more than 5,000,000 acres
should be appropriated for the satisfaction of
“other claims,” if congress should act upon them
within a year. The commissioners, Madison,
Gallatin and Lincoln, who had negotiated the
compact with Georgia, reported, Feb. 16, 1803,
that the present Yazoo claimants were innocent
third parties, holders without notice, and their
claims ought to be compromised; that they offered
to accept twenty-five cents an acre, or a lump
sum of $8,000,000; but that a sum of $2,500,000
with interest, or $5,000,000 without interest, pay-
able out of the proceeds of Mississippi land sales,
would be a fair compromise. The Yazoo claims
now met the fiercest and most uncompromising
opponent in the person of John Randolph. (See
his name.) He had been in Georgia on a visit in
1795–6, and now took up the battle against the
claimants with a rancorous sense of personal hos-
tility which added to his naturally angry support
of Georgia's action as a sovereign state. Never-
theless an act was passed, March 3, 1803, one of
whose clauses, after setting aside a part of the
5,000,000 acres for British claimants and squatters
without title, appropriated the remainder to the
satisfaction of such other claims, arising under
“any act or pretended act of the state of Georgia,”
as should be filed in the office of the secretary of
state before Jan. 1, 1804, and subsequently ap-
proved by congress. – Among the claimants was
the New England Mississippi company, successor
by purchase to the Georgia company. Randolph's
opposition has usually been attributed to a general
hatred of New England, but its real basis seems
to have lain in an honest belief that the New
England company was an organized attempt to
obtain $8,000,000 from congress by the same
process of corruption and bribery which had
Originally been successful with the Georgia com-
pany. The company’s principal agents were
Granger, then postmaster general, and Perez Mor-
ton, a leading democratic politician of Massachu-
setts. Their chances in congress seemed to be
fair, when Randolph anticipated them by offering
a series of resolutions, Feb. 20, 1804, upholding
the Georgia revoking act of 1796, and directing
that no part of the 5,000,000 acres be appropriated
to any claimants under the act of 1795. The sec-
ond resolution contains the gist of Georgia's de-
fense of her action, as follows: “That, when the
governors of any people shall have betrayed the
confidence reposed in them, and shall have exer-
cised that authority, with which they have been
clothed for the general welfare, to promote their
own private ends under the basest motives and to
the public detriment, it is the inalienable right
of a people so circumstanced to revoke the au-
thority thus abused, to resume the rights thus at-
tempted to be bartered, and to abrogate the act
thus endeavoring to betray them.” His resolutions
were postponed in March by a general majority of
about 53 to 50; but his object had been obtained,
for the claims were practically postponed with
the resolutions. But Randolph always helieved
that his own fall from the leadership of his party
in congress was directly attributable to the disap-
pointment of members of congress interested in
the claims, and backed by a strong and unscrupu-
lous lobby. He was not alone in the belief: the
evident conviction that bribery had been at work
in congress makes the debates of the time quite
unpleasant reading. —In January, 1805, the claims
again came up for consideration, and Randolph,
freed from any partial checks by his evident ban-
ishment from his party, gave loose reins to the
powers of vituperation, in which he was unsur-
passable. Every one who favored the claims
in any way came in for a share, but most particu-
larly the principal agent, Granger. Randolph, in
a speech of Jan. 31, 1805, even accused him, with-
out offering any direct evidence, of having pros-
tituted his official power of making postoffice con-
tracts to the purchase of members' votes for his
YAZOO FRAUDS.
1129
constituents, the New England company. One
sentence will give some idea of Randolph's pecu-
liar style: “You must know, sir, that the person
so often alluded to maintains a jackal, fed not
upon the offals of contract, but with the fairest
pieces in the shambles; and at night, when honest
men are in bed, does this obscene animal prowl
through the streets of this vast and desolate city,
seeking whom he may tamper with.” Granger,
the next day, wrote a naturally indignant letter to
the speaker, demanding an investigation, which
was not accorded to him. Randolph’s object had
been sufficiently attained, and he followed the
same tactics for the future, making it so unpleas-
ant for any one who introduced a bill to satisfy
the claimants that no act was passed. Even in
1808, when the short-lived democratic legislature
of Massachusetts unanimously asked congress to
act upon the claims, no attention was paid to the
request. — Failing before congress, the claimants
arranged a conflict of title between holders of
Yazoo lands under their grant and under the
United States, and thus got the matter before the
supreme court in the case of Fletcher vs. Peck.
The decision was given in 1810, and fully sus-
tained the claimants. It held that the law of 1795
was a contract between the state and the claim-
ants; that the states were forbidden by the con-
stitution of the United States (art. I., section 10)
to pass any law impairing the obligation of con-
tracts; and that the revoking act of 1796 was
therefore unconstitutional and void. Still the
matter languished until March 31, 1814, when an
act was passed appropriating $8,000,000 in scrip,
payable out of the proceeds of Mississippi lands,
to satisfy the Yazoo claimants. Comparatively
little of this, however, went to the claimants.
Most of them had becomile discouraged by the long
delay, and had sold their claims to speculators at
a heavy discount. Some few subsequent acts were
found necessary to complete minor details, but the
end of the case was fairly reached in 1814. — It
is certainly true that the states were forbidden by
the constitution to pass any law impairing the ob-
ligation of contracts; but it is. equally true and
clear that the contracts then intended were mere
private contracts between individuals, and not
those which are public in their nature and trench
On the prerogatives of the state government. It is
usually considered that the change of course was
first made by the Supreme court in the case of
Dartmouth College vs. Woodward in 1819, though
that case was only that of a private eleemosynary
Corporation, and the rule in its case has since been
transferred to the maintenance, as irrepealable
contracts, of the charters of corporations essen-
tially public in their nature. A more apt illus-
tration of this subsequent line of decision may be
found in this. Yazoo case in 1810. The contract
was one which deprived the state of its public
lands, which was obtained by a wholesale corrup-
tion of legislative agents never effectually denied,
and which was protested against by one of the
principals, the people of the state, the instant their
tion,
voice could be heard, as not their act and deed,
Surely it would seem that here there was no con-
tract at all; or that, if there was a contract, it
came with the implied condition of the state's
power to revoke or alter it. Whether we take the
standpoint of state sovereignty (see that title) or
national sovereignty, it is clear in either case that
the state legislatures in 1775 were left, either by
the will of the people of the state or of the people
of the nation, the same supreme power of revoca-
tion or alteration of their public charters or public
contracts which has always been possessed by the
British parliament. He who asserts that they have
since lost that power may fairly be asked to put
his finger on the place where the decree of the
state or of the nation has taken it from them. It
is hard to side with John Randolph against John
Marshall, but it is infinitely harder to see any such
sweeping decree in the contract provision of the
constitution. We can only see a series of stepping
stones, beginning with the Yazoo decision, and
ending with a general judicial decree that the
state legislatures have no power to revoke or alter
charters. So that, as the law stands, any corpo-
ration has only to be unscrupulous enough to
purchase our legislature, and to obtain from that
body an irrepealable charter granting it any priv-
ileges, however enormous or however opposed to
the self-government of the people of the state, and
it obtains at once a vested right which must be
sustained by the judicial power and physical force
of the United States. In this aspect, the case has
a far more dangerous appearance now than in 1810
or 1819, owing to the rise of a class of corporations
whose powers, ambitious and perilous rivalries
could hardly have then been imagined. It may be
dangerous in some degree to expose our corpora-
tions to the meddlesomeness of state legislatures;
but it can hardly be denied that it is still more
dangerous to hang the safety of popular govern-
ment by states upon the small chance of the unan-
imous and perpetual scrupulousness of an infinite
number and variety of corporations. When the
danger shall appear in practice for the first time
it will be too late to avoid it, for the court in the
Yazoo case very naturally decided, as it must al-
ways decide, that it could not examine or even
recognize any allegation of corruption in the Su-
preme legislative authority of a state: it must take
the legislature's action as the voice of the state.
Judge Jameson, in the pamphlet cited below,
speaks as follows: “It may be heresy, but, if so,
the heretics àre a large and increasing company
who maintain that the decision in Dartmouth Col-
lege vs. Woodward has been carried much too far,
and been made to sustain grants which neither law
nor justice nor sound political principle can Sanc-
* * But in some of the very cases in
which our courts have sustained that Species of
contracts, upon the supposed controlling author-
ity of the Dartmouth college case, may be found
the law which is ultimately to rescue us from the
bondage that case has brought upon us. In many
of these cases there are dissenting opinions, giving,
1130
ZEITGEIST.
in the judgment of many, the better law in regard
to the proper application of the principles of the
Dartmouth college case. By going back, there-
fore, to the path which was abandoned when the
rule in that case, that of a private eleemosynary
corporation, was perverted to the maintenance of
corporate institutions invested with great public
functions, not only congress but the states will be
left free to bring the needful legislation to bear
against those monster establishments deeming
themselves impregnable behind the barrier of the
constitution.” — See authorities under GEORGIA;
4–6 Hildreth’s United States (index); 2 Schouler's
United States, 74; 2 Tucker's United States, 186; 1
Garland's Life of Randolph, 66; Adams' Life of
Randolph, 109; 3 Benton's Debates of Congress, 142
(Randolph's resolutions), 333 (Granger's letter and
defense); 2 Stat. at Large, 235, and 3: 116 (acts of
March 3, 1803, and March 31, 1814); 1 Stat. at
Large, Bioren & Duane's ed.,460,512 (evidence col-
lected and published by Georgia); Fletcher vs. Peck,
6 Cranch’s Reports, 87, or 2 Peters’ Reports, 328;
Jameson's Grounds and Limits of Rightful Interfer-
ence by Law with the accumulation and use of Capi-
tal, and authorities cited. ALEX. JOHNSTON.
YEAS AND NAys. (See PARLIAMENTARY
LAW.)
Z
EITGEIST. Its Nature and Power. The Zeit-
geist is a German word, meaning the Spirit of
the times, or the spirit of the age. In the follow-
ing article it will be frequently rendered literally
by the English compound Times-Spirit. — Every
one feels the power of the times-spirit, but no one
explains to us on what that power depends. All
speak of the times-spirit, or of the spirit of the
age; most men pay homage to it; yet nobody tells
us what the times-spirit which they worship and
which they sometimes unwillingly obey, is.
idea of the times-spirit did not originate in our
day. It was given expression to, even by the
brahmans of ancient India. The old Romans were
acquainted with the “spirit of the century" (the
Sæculum). (Tac. Germ., 19.) But our age has
grown more attentive than any former one to the
drift of the spirit of the times. Hence the ques-
tion, What is the times-spirit 7 imperatively de-
mands an answer. —I. Let us first see by what
external signs men think they can recognize the
times-spirit, and what qualities they ascribe to it.
— 1. The times-spirit manifests itself chiefly in
the definite character and the special intellectual
direction by which the different ages and the dif-
ferent phases of the times are distinguished from
one another. The contrast noticeable between the
great periods of the world’s history, marks also the
changes or transformations of the times-spirit, in
a general way. Even the spirit of the middle ages
was once present in the world as the spirit of the
times, as the times-spirit; and in its time it crushed
out the spirit of the ancient world, just as it had
itself to yield subsequently to the spirit of modern
times. Again, in these great periods of the world’s
history the spirits of the centuries, and even of the
half-centuries composing them, are surprisingly
different. Only, the century must not be reck-
oned according to our Christian system of chro-
nology, for the experience of history everywhere
shows, that the spirit of the new century becomes
observable in all its youthful impetuosity even in
the last decade (according to Christian chronology)
of the previous century, Christ was not born at
The
the beginning of a century, and hence our Chris-
tian chronology does not correspond with the
chronology of the periods of the world’s history
(weltperioden, world-periods). — With the ages,
new ideas, like stars, rise above, and again sink
below, the horizon of humanity. In one century,
an idea has a powerful attraction for men; in an-
other, that same idea exercises no influence what-
ever. In one age, men wax enthusiastic Over it,
in the next they pass it by coldly and indifferently.
In the twelfth century (including the last decade
of the eleventh) all Christian Europe was stirred
to its very centre by the desire to rescue the sacred
sepulchre of Jesus from the infidel. To effect that
end, millions of men with fiery ardor rush into
the arms of unknown danger, privation and death.
But this fanatical impulse loses its power over
minds in the thirteenth century, and, later, dies
out entirely. The second half of the fifteenth
and the first of the sixteenth century, favor the
renaissance of ancient ideas, and the reformation
of the church, which had previously been at-
tempted, without success, by individuals; while,
from 1540 onward, the spirit of reaction and tor-
pidity rose up and was just as victorious. In the
seventeenth century, princely absolutism every-
where celebrated its triumph over the estates sys-
tem; and in the eighteenth, beginning with 1740,
the craving for enlightenment and the freedom of
the middle class of citizens raged with the vio-
lence of revolution. The nineteenth century cor-
responds with the growth of representative con-
stitutional government and the national (see NA-
TIONALITIES, PRINCIPLE OF) current in politics.
In one age, the fundamental feature of the times-
spirit is liberal; in another, conservative; while in
a third it is either radical or absolutist. — The same
changes or transformations of the times-spirit are,
besides, visible in miniature, in any one age.
Here, too, there is an upward and a downward
movement to be distinguished. The spokes of
the great wheel of the world’s history consist of
smaller wheels which have a rotation of their own.
The very same men grow enthusiastic, in one
ZEITGEIST.
1131
phase of the times, over popular freedom, and in
another call for a dictatorial power; but, in both
instances, they appeal to the spirit of the age with
which the direction they follow is in harmony.
When Napoleon I. undertook to re-establish Cae-
sarian authority, he tried to discover, by means of
pamphlets which he caused to be scattered wide-
spread, whether the time for it had come, just as
Noah, according to the Jewish record, once tried
to find out whether the waters of the deluge had
subsided; and Napoleon repeatedly postponed car-
rying his design into execution, because the time
had not yet come for it. At last the signs of the
times seemed favorable to him; he then cast aside
the veil of the consulate, and founded the new
empire. Such an undertaking would have been
as impossible later, at the time of the restoration
after 1815, as it would have been earlier, in the
turbulent time of the revolution.— This changing
of the times-spirit seems to protect mankind from
the lasting, all-crushing despotism of a single, one-
sided tendency or direction, and of one sole pow-
er. Time ‘causes one force to set again, which it
had previously called on to rise, and summons
other sleeping forces into life and operation. With
time the wheel of destiny turns round, and now
new hopes and cares awaken, and now again old
sorrows and old joys approach their end. In the
change of human things the change of the times-
spirit has a great share. Not our globe alone is
round and must turn on its axis; the times-spirit
too revolves, and, by its revolution, exercises a
changing influence on the opinions and doings of
men. — 2. A second noteworthy observation is
the propagation of the times-spirit. Were it lim-
ited to a single country, or to a definite nation, we
would suppose we discovered it in the peculiar
spirit of that country or that nation. But it is
evidently not confined within the boundaries of a
country; it moves, in the same current and direc-
tion, over different nations. Like the currents of
the wind, in the atmosphere, it now moves from
the east to the west, and now from the north
to the south, and vice versa. The religious, be-
lieving, and, in a political sense, feudal, fun-
damental feature of the mediaeval times-spirit,
spread not only over Christian Europe, but, sim-
ultaneously, over the Mohammedan east. — It is
often thought that the changes in the spirit of the
times can be explained by certain definite expe-
riences of a people, or by certain measures taken
by its government. The explanation is a wrong
one ; for the spirit of the times changes among
other peoples also, with different experiences and
different governments. We must not think that
the change in the spirit of the times was caused
for the reason that this thing or that thing hap-
pened, or for the reason that this thing or that
was left undone. It may be that such happening
or leaving undone of a thing may, as a secondary
cause, have helped the efficiency of the change of
the times-spirit, or put obstacles in its way. The
change itself, however, is not dependent on such
happening or leaving undone, and has another
and chief cause. The best liberal government
can not prevent the return of the time of a con-
servative tendency. And when, even an absolu-
tistic government makes no gross mistakes, the
times-spirit does not always persist in the same
direction, but from time to time ventures a leap
in the way of radicalism. — But the spirit of the
times does not propagate itself in entirely the same
measure among different peoples. It changes,
too, the principal representatives of its character
for the time being. At one time one nation, and
at another time another, appears as the especial
organ of the times-spirit, according as the pecu-
liar nature of such a nation harmonizes with the
most prominent quality of the spirit of the times.
The spirit of the times in this way lifts up the na-
tions, and lets them fall again. — The principal
seat of the times-spirit in Europe, in antiquity,
was first Greece, and, later, Rome. During the
middle ages the Germans, although unconscious
of the fact, were the representatives of the spirit
of the times. In the age of the reformation of
the church the German nation was the chief organ
of the times-spirit, just as the French nation was
in the age of the revolution. In the former in-
stance, the times-spirit swept from Germany over
northern and western Europe; in the latter, like
a storm, from Paris over the European world.
The full power of the moving times-spirit, like
the crest of a wave, becomes perceptible only in
the land or among the nation which is its princi-
pal seat or principal representative; and its force
in other lands and among other peoples decreases
in intensity, until the wave reaches its trough. —
3. The great power of the times-spirit shows
itself mainly in the multitude. It comes over the
masses, they know not how themselves, and gives
them the direction which they follow. The great-
er number of them surrender themselves up to its
impressions, and allow themselves to be filled by
it. As plants, at certain seasons of the year,
shoot forth and blossom, then stand still and fade,
nations are now stirred to action by the current
of the times-spirit, and again are relegated by
it to rest. The times-spirit wakes up and slum-
bers according as these qualities or those appear
in it. Its course is mysterious. It forces itself
in like the wind; it communicates itself from one
man to another just as heat does from one body
to another. At times, it spreads like an epidemic,
and, in a moment almost, transforms the hopes
and moods of men. —But there is a great differ-
ence between the times-spirit and the cosmic in-
fluences of the seasons and the changes of the
wind. There was a time when men sought to ex-
plain the strangest effects of the times-spirit by
cosmic causes. Astrologers calculated the destiny
of men from the constellations of the heavens.
They thought that by the position or movement
of the planets especially they might discover
men’s plans and acts, and measure the change of
the times-spirit. Fruitless and foolish endeavor I
Were the cause of the change of the times-spirit
to be found in the external nature of our globe,
1132
ZEITGEIST.
termine the direction of the masses.
that same cause, like the seasons of the year, like
the changes of heat and cold, like the currents of
the wind, would necessarily exercise an influence
on men and on all other creatures, at the Same
time on plants and on animals. But of this there
is no trace. No matter how the times-spirit
changes, the growth of plants and the life of ani-
mals do not follow the change. They do not feel
it.— The power of the times-spirit manifests itself
only in the life of man; it is connected with hu-
man nature, and is Scarcely explainable except by
the facts of human nature. — As the times-spirit
is confined to the world of men, its power is en-
hanced by the intercourse of men with one another,
and in many ways weakened and checked by the
isolation of men from one another. Nowhere is the
times-spirit stronger than in great cities, in which
men live closely packed together in constant and
active intercourse with one another. It rules much
less in the country, with its small villages and scat-
tered farm-houses. The seclusion of a monastery
can not withdraw itself entirely from it, but it
only slightly feels the transforming power of the
times-spirit. — 4. Its power over men is not an
absolute one. Some, especially individuals of
energetic character and determined mind, resist
its influences, and sometimes endeavor, with suc-
cess, to swim against its stream. Many combat
the times-spirit which they hate. Many more,
vexed and defiant, repel its rule. The world’s
history is determined only in part by the times-
spirit. The individual freedom of men, as well
as the times-spirit, leaves its impress on the history
of the world, and in it another spirit besides that
of the times reveals itself to us. The latter we
recognize only where the spirit of the masses
moves. Hence the times-spirit does not fill the
whole of human nature, and is not identical with
the mind or spirit of man in general. — 5. But
neither can the changes of the times-spirit be ex-
plained by the play of caprice. That change is
not like the varying pictures of a revolving ka-
leidoscope.
tion between the character of a preceding and of
a succeeding section of time; we may perceive
an Organic succession of ages, and again an or-
ganic succession of phases of the times within
the same age, which strongly reminds us of the
succession of the age-stages in the life of man.
The transformation of the times-spirit, too, begins
with childhood, and rises to the height of youth-
ful consciousness, to subsequently, after wise
work and careful preservation, sink again into
aging routine and prudent calculation, and to pre-
pare for a new revolution. In all this there is
regularity and law, not chance and caprice. — A
great many modern philosophers have endeavored
to discover this law. Hegel's endeavor to find
it in the dialectic movement of the faculty of
thought necessarily failed, because human fac-
ulties are manifold, and because the self-con-
scious mind of thinkers does not at all always de-
iments of Fourier and the speculation of Krause
Rather is there an intrinsic connec-
The present-
which pointed to the succession of the age-stages
of human life, and sought by them to explain
the changes of the times-Spirit, were happier.
But Frederick Rohmer investigated the law of
the times-spirit more deeply and more comprehen-
sively than any other writer, and explained it by
psychology. His own nature, which was very
sensitive to, and had a fine feeling for, all the
changes of the times-spirit, constantly spurred
him on to observe its course, and follow it, like
the minute-hand of a clock, with strained atten-
tion. In this way he at last found an accurate
measure for the movement of the times-spirit. —
This prevalence of law in its movement distin-
guishes the spirit of the times from the change-
able fashion. The times-spirit, indeed, exercises
its power on the fashion too. It manifests itself
by way of preference in the art style of different
ages, from which even the fashion can not free
itself, and most clearly in the architectonic style,
but in music and in literature also. Thus the
fashion only followed the times-spirit, when, in the
seventeenth, and to some extent in the eighteenth
century, it gave its preference to rococo forms,
and delighted in queues and hair-bags. Again,
it was led by the spirit of the times when the
French revolution revived antique fashions, cor-
responding to the republican models of Grecian
and Roman antiquity, which then had great in-
fluence on the renovation of public life; and when
it afterward, in the Napoleonic period, turned to
the aristocratic and severer forms of Caesarian
Rome. To the extent that the fashion follows the
times-spirit, it, too, is determined by law. But
side by side with this law, the individual inclina-
tions, whims and moods of persons and social cen-
tres, operate very powerfully on the fashion—
persons and centres which are looked upon by the
rest of society as authorities, and in whose foot-
steps the rest of society is accustomed to follow.
The lions and lionesses of fashion in Paris and
London are not always led to their resolutions
and choices by the general movement of the times-
spirit, but are determined in great part by their
own freedom. We know, for instance, what
kind of a personal cause it was that brought crin-
oline into fashion; and, in men's adhesion to the
dress coat and silk hat, we perceive not so much
the changeableness of the times-spirit as the su-
premacy of French style. —II. What, then, is
the times-spirit, the qualities of which we have
been considering? Is it really, as many suppose,
the sum of individual human minds existing at a
given time? When Goethe once wished to ridi-
cule the false times-spirit, he wrote the well-known
lines: -
“Was ihr den Geist der Zeiten mennt,
Das ist der Herren eigner Geist.”
[What the gentlemen call the spirit of the times,
is their own spirit.]—And, indeed, men frequently
palm off their own spirit for the times-spirit; some-
times they deceive themselves about it, and some-
times they wish to deceive others about it. But
the true times-spirit is something different from
ZEITGEIST.
1133
the sum of separate spirits. If it were only the
sum of separate spirits, the fact that the same in-
dividuals follow this current of the times-spirit
to-day, and to-morrow perhaps an entirely oppo-
site current, would remain entirely unexplained.
Their individual inclinations and opinions remain
sometimes the same, notwithstanding they allow
themselves to be carried away by the new current.
Under the cover of their own roof, they do not
hesitate to give expression to their opposition to,
and heartfelt dislike of, the course which they
publicly pay homage to and obey. With these,
therefore, their change of attitude is not arbitrary.
It is not these gentlemen’s own spirit that calls
forth the spirit of the times. – Moreover, if the
times-spirit were only the sum of individual spir-
its, it would not be possible to explain why the
spirit of the times is so widely propagated, and
yet seems specially powerful now in one country,
and now in another. — So, too, would remain un-
explained the intrinsic connection of the move-
ments of the times-spirit with one another, and the
succession of its changes in great periods of time
from age to age, a connection and succession which
extend far beyond the brief lives of individual
men, and which, therefore, can not be measured
by the standard of individual men, nor be depend-
ent on individual men.— Lastly, if the times-spirit
were nothing but the sum of individual minds or
spirits, the many-sided struggle of the individual
with the spirit of the times would be inconceiva-
ble; and yet that struggle is fought out frequently
by individual men with themselves and within
themselves, and not merely with other men. —
But if the times-spirit be not the sum of individ-
ual minds or spirits; if, rather, there be unity in
its nature and development, its cause must be
looked for only in humanity as a whole. Only
on the supposition that humanity as a unit has a
psychic aggregate bent or aggregate disposition of
its own, an aggregate destiny of its own, and
therefore an aggregate development of its own,
can the times-spirit be explained; and then it is ex-
plainable as the orderly development of the soul-life
of humanity. — And so it is indeed. The world’s
history is the documentary proof that there is
such a thing as a development of humanity, a de-
velopment which progresses through greaf life-
periods in organic sequences. The world's his-
tory and the times-spirit are nearly related, and
closely connected phenomena. The times-spirit
accompanies the world’s history in the paths of
its development, and exercises its unceasing influ-
ence on the shaping of that history. The gen-
eral character and spirit which, in the different
periods and ages of the world’s history, assumed
a definite form, were once, when events were
still, so to speak, in their fluid state, to a great ex-
tent, the spirit of the times. The world’s history
is development behind us, development in the
past, succession that is past. The times-spirit is
the development of the human mind in the pres-
ent. But the times-spirit is certainly not the only
thing that determines the world’s history. If it
alone ruled as a power superordinated over indi-
vidual men and binding individual men, the
world's history would be like the growth of
a plant; individual freedom would be oppressed
by its weight; there would be no deeds, no works
of men peculiar, but only joint works of the gen-
eral human mind. But the times-spirit is only one
of the moving forces; in the struggle with that
force, the spirit of tradition and of traditional
authority asserts itself; side by side with it works
the special spirit of the nationality of a definite
people, of dynasties and families, but above all, of
remarkable individual men. From the reciprocal
struggle and strife, action and interaction, of all
human forces, proceed all world-historical results.
—But the times-spirit is one of the most important
and efficient of the forces which determine the
world’s history. By the psychologic law of or-
dered change, which is innate, as a common fac-
ulty, in the human race, the human race is spurred
on to gradual development and perfection, and
guided to its destiny. By the times-spirit, to which
God has borne testimony, before the mind of
man, God, with far-stretching rein, guides the
course of the world’s history, and carries human-
ity unceasingly forward. Once the great signifi-
cance of the times-spirit is recognized, men will
revere it as something sublime, as something di-
vinely human, and look upon those who, ever
turned toward the eternal and unchangeable, put
a low estimate on the changes of the times-spirit,
as short-sighted and unwise. The manifoldness
of human life in common and the freedom of
human development, are instigated and led by
the changes of the times-spirit. — III. What, we
may now ask, should be the attitude of the states-
man toward this great intellectual power? 1.
First, he is obliged carefully to notice the signs of
the times, and to study the spirit of the times in
which he is called to work. The question, What
time is it? is always eminently important; for not
at every hour you wish, can what you wish be
done. Everything has its time, and the man who
at the wrong time, whether too early or too late,
undertakes great things, will generally succumb
under difficulties, and his endeavors will remain
without result. — Then, again, the present world
must first answer the question, In what world-
period do we live? What is the fundamental
character of our age? The world of our day is
not clear on this point. But this much, I think,
can be confidently asserted: The so-called modern
world-period, in which a new revolution of the
great wheel of the world’s history is going on,
has still an aspiring youthful character. Human-
ity has not yet reached the height of its aggregate
life. The immeasurable results of the modern
sciences and the whole political movement of the
time bear testimony to the masculine spirit of
modern humanity, with its will to become con-
scious of itself, and to shape itself in freedom.
Ours is a great creative age, more conscious and
more free than any former world-period. Hence,
in the spirit of this our world-period, a liberal
1134
ZEITGEIST.
§ .
fundamental trait appears, one which recalls the
still younger genius of the great period in the his-
tory of the world which brought forth the blos-
soms and splendor of Hellenic and Roman an-
tiquity, and one which presents a surprising con-
trast to the stormy and oppressive, the intellectual-
ly less gladsome and less clear, nature of the mid-
dle ages. Even in the new and most glorious
world-period on which humanity entered in the
year 1740, the first beginnings and first essays of
the new spirit were still childishly naïve or boy-
ishly boisterous. In the first age of the aufklärung
(enlightenment), from 1740 to 1789, a cosmopoli-
tan, philanthropic philosophy prevailed. The
educated world, the first moved by the times-
spirit, now not only turned away with contempt
from the middle ages, but also from the great tra-
ditions of the past, and raised its eyes with en-
thusiasm to the new ideals which philosophy held
up to it, and from which it expected a new order
of things. Then it undertook in the following
and second age of the new world-period, in the
age of the revolution, to realize the pictures of
its phantasy, and to transform the world in reality.
But it was more successful in tearing down and
destroying the old order of the world than in
establishing the new one. The speculative school
in which it was educated could not make up for
its lack of experience and of practical under-
standing. The world indeed moved forward, but
not without occasionally falling back again. At
last it gave up its naïve confidence in the abstract
ideas of equality and liberty; in consequence of the
experiments it had made, it learned how to under-
stand history better, and to appreciate the power
of tradition. The principle which, in this our third
age, since 1840, chiefly moves minds, especially
in Europe, the principle of nationalities (see NA-
TIONALITIES, PRINCIPLE OF) is, indeed, narrower
than the ideas of the earlier revolutionary age of
the universal rights of man, but it has more his-
torical intrinsic value, and more formative power
in it. We have not yet reached the height of
genuinely liberal development. Even our grand-
children will not attain it. Our entire movement
is not yet free from violent radical currents and
precipitation; it occasionally turns about in the
direction of the contrary extreme of absolutist
reaction. But we may assert with joyful certainty
that mankind has for a century past been making
extraordinary progress, and is still making steady,
manly progress toward the great goal: fully de-
veloped humanity. — 2. The statesman should
never put a low estimate upon or undervalue the
times-spirit, not even when the current of the
times is unfavorable to him and to his plans, and
not even when it brings to the surface, not the
highest forces of human nature, but human na-
ture's lower impulses; for the power of the times-
spirit is always great, and its movements are neces-
sary to the development of humanity. Remark-
able men, indeed, go their own way, and do not,
like the multitude, follow every change of the
wind. But the statesman who despises the Spirit
against its disfavor.
of the times would be like the fool who despises
the winter because it calls forth no blossoms, and
ridicules the night because it invites to repose.
The monk or the hermit may shut himself up
from the spirit of the times, by withdrawing
himself from life in common with other men; but
the statesman who cares to work and live among
men, can not. As the cautious gardener carefully
Watches the heat and cold, dryness and moisture,
and endeavors to guard his plants from the inju-
rious effects of the extreme forces of nature; and
as the Sailor takes the winds and the waves into
Consideration, the statesman must notice the move-
ments and qualities of the times-spirit, and work
But if he will resist the cur-
rent of the times, he must neither rest from labor
nor sleep. Every place he lays open to assault
will be overflooded by the hostile current of the
times-spirit; every gap that he leaves open will be
filled by it. Before he is aware of it, he is closed
in, betrayed, overthrown.—3. If the times-spirit is
favorable, the statesman whose direction is greatly
promoted by the blowing of the times-spirit, may
risk much, for he will succeed in much. The
time goes forward in the same direction, and the
boat, with a favorable wind, moves quickly and
happily. If he meets with obstacles which he
can not for the moment overcome, he can wait.
Time comes to his assistance, removes the obstacles
in his course, or wears them out and opens the
way for him. Napoleon III., even when he was a
prince, understood the great political truth, that
the man who moves with the current of his time
meets with success, while the statesman who swims
against it, perishes. – 4. The ideas of the times
and the forms of the times correspond to the
spirit of the times. Ideas are never first conceived
and expressed by races, but always by single indi-
viduals; yet ideas become ideas of the times only
when they are taken up and propagated by the
receptive masses. Sages and philosophers an-
nounce the ideas of the future, in advance. From
their intellectual height they discover many ideas
which operate only on future generations, earlier
than do the multitude who live in the valleys be-
low them. But the practical statesman can try to
realize only the ideas which suit the times in which
he lives. It is only for these ideas of the times
that he will find understanding and support among
men. He must guard against defending obsolete
ideas of the times after the manner of the roman-
tic school. For even if the spirit of tradition
lends him some assistance, he will at most meet
with only momentary success. The hostile age
marches over him, and tramples his work under
foot. His policy becomes ridiculous quixotism.
But it is almost more dangerous, if more laudable,
for the statesman to undertake to carry out the
ideas of the future before the time to carry them
out is ripe. He will then make shipwreck on the
rocks of stern reality, and be scoffed at as an ideal-
istic visionary. The true task of the statesman is
the realization of the actual ideas of the times.
On this depends, In large measure, the popularity
ZOLLWEREEN.
1135
of statesmen. When they go with the ideas of
the time, they are, for the most part, popular;
when they go against the time, they become un-
popular. The reason of the frightful unpopular-
ity of the order of Jesuits for a century past, is
to be found not solely in the dangerous intrigues
of the order, but principally in the fact, that the
whole tendency of the order is in deadly enmity
with the modern spirit of the times and with the
intellectual consciousness and cravings of the hu-
manity of to-day. The great success of Napole-
onic, English, Italian and Prussian politics, was
certainly determined to a great extent by this:
that their main tendency was in harmony with
the liberal and national tone of the spirit of the
times in the present age. — 5. But every age has
also a love for definite forms of its life. It is
not sufficient for the statesman to recognize the
ideas of the time, and to enter the lists for them ;
he will do well also to use the forms of the time.
A century ago, enlightened absolutism was ac-
ceptable to the age. Great things could then
be accomplished without great struggles, under
that form. In our age, which demands, as its
right, the representative form, and especially the
assent and co-operation, of popular representa-
tion, enlightened absolutism meets with powerful
opposition even when it advocates the real ideas
of the time. Count Cavour for this very reason
received earlier and more easily the recognition
and cheerful support of his nation than did Prince
Bismarck, because Cavour used the forms of the
time for the ideas of the time, while Bismarck
seemed at first to despise the forms of the time,
and undertook to realize new ideas by the means
of an earlier time. Hence the labor of Prince
Bismarck was harder and slower; but in proportion
as he showed himself more favorable to the forms
of modern political life, he won for himself the
furthering support of the many. — 6. Yet the
greatest statesman can not singly, not even with
the forms of the time, realize the ideas of the
time. The new ideas, indeed, exercise their influ-
ence; but so do the old historical powers of au-
thority and custom. The savant may carry out
the thought of the time, in theory, with logical
acumen, and a consistency regardless of conse-
quences. Real life does not square with the
straight lines and sharp angles of doctrines; it
bends them and changes them in the application
of them. Practical politics is an art which has a
great many complicated problems to solve, an art
which has to deal with many joint and personal
forces. The result of political struggles necessi-
tates treaties of peace, attempts at settlement
or adjustment and compromises. The man who,
out of blind zeal for the spirit of the times,
scorns all compromise, may, indeed, be an hon-
orable doctrinarian, but he must not expect the
success or laurels of the statesman.
A J. C. BLUNTSCHL.I.
ZOLLWEREIN. The German golloerein, or
customs-association, was the union effected among
a number of the German states, and begun by the
junction of some of them with Prussia, for tariff
purposes, a union by virtue of which (the Prus-
sian tariff system being taken as a basis within
the limits of the territory of the association) all
tariff barriers between such states were swept
away, while duties were collected at the boundary
lines of the association, on, their joint account,
and divided among the several states, parties to
the union, in proportion to their population. —
This union came into existence after the dissolu-
tion of more than one tariff alliance against Prus-
sia, Jan. 1, 1834, and was at first intended to con-
tinue for eight years. At that date the union
embraced eighteen German states. In 1835, Hes-
sen-Homburg, Baden and Nassau entered it; in
1836, Frankfurt ; in 1838, Waldeck; in 1842,
Braunschweig, Lippe and Luxemburg; in 1851
and 1852, Hanover and Oldenburg. From 1854
to 1865, all the German states, with the exception
of Austria, the two Mecklenburgs and the
Hanseatic cities, belonged to the Zollverein. The
last Zollverein treaty is dated May 16, 1865, and
was to run from Jan. 1, 1866, to the end of 1877,
but was set aside by the events of 1866. The
20llverein, or customs-association treaty, of July 8,
1867, between the North German confederation
considered as a single tariff territory, on the one
hand, and Bavaria, Würtemberg, Baden and Hesse
on the other, which was to continue in force for
twelve years, rested on a different basis entirely.
— The Zollverein itself was brought to an end by
the establishment of the German empire, inas-
much as the constitution of the empire, of April
16, 1871, art. 33, provides that Germany shall
constitute one single country for tariff and com-
mercial purposes, with Bremen and Hamburg as
free ports. At present the Zollverein, therefore,
has mainly an historical interest. — The economic
consequences to Germany of the Zollverein were
the consequences which may be expected from
every customs-union. 1. It reduced the cost of the
collection and administration of the customs duties
as a consequence of the removal of the tariff bar-
riers between the associated states; 2, it rapidly
developed the industry of those states by the appli-
cation of the principle of free trade in their com-
mercial intercourse ; 3, it increased the customs
receipts by increasing consumption, the tariff be-
ing a moderate one; 4, it rendered it possible for
these states, through the union, to conclude advan-
tageous treaties with foreign countries, which are
more disposed to make concessions to a state which
offers them a large market than to small, unim-
portant countries; 5, it increased the commerce of
the customs-union with foreign countries; 6, it
increased the political importance of Germany,
since its political union was destined, Sooner or
later, as it actually did, to spring from its cus-
toms-union.* - M.
* Says Henri Richelot, writing in 1862: “Since the year
1832 the Zollverein, although other influences concurred with
its influence, has been the principal fact in Germany; and
the progress of Germany since then has been, in great part,
1136
ZOLLVEREIN.
the progress of the Zollverein. The first advance of the
Zollverein consisted in its material enlargement; this it ac-
complished by successive incorporations which leave noth-
ing in Germany outside of its boundaries save Austria, the
Hanseatic cities and Mecklenburg. The increase of popula-
tion of the Zollverein was a necessary consequence of the
increase of its territory ; but it has been more rapid ; from
twenty-three and one-half millions in 1834, the number of in-
habitants of the Zollverein has risen to nearly thirty-four
millions.—The reports of the commerce of the Zollverein,
containing only quantities and no values, do not enable us
to give the total annual movement of its trade with non-
Zollverein states and countries, and in this matter we have
only more or less uncertain approximations. But the ap-
proximations warrant us in classing the Zollverein, in inter-
national commerce, immediately after England, France and
the United States, although it is very far from these coun-
tries; and in assigning to it the incontestable rank of the
fourth commercial power of the world, of the third in Eu-
rope, and of the second on the European continent. The
manufacturing character of the Zollverein has become more
and more pronounced in international commerce. The in-
crease of its exports is apparent, not in its natural products,
such as cereals and building lumber, but in manufactured
commodities, in woolen, silk and cotton textile fabrics, in
linen and hardware. In its imports we notice an increase in
exotic articles of consumption, such as tea and coffee, an in-
crease in the consumption of which is usually regarded as a
Sure index of general prosperity. The same may be said of
the importation of articles used in manufacture. But so far
as manufactured articles themselves are concerned, the sali-
ent point in the importation of the Zollverein is their de-
crease. In the vitality of the great German fairs which are
still held, it is remarkable how German industry, little by
little, thrusts aside its rivals in England, France and Switzer-
land. Lastly, in its expositions, the first of which took place
in 1844 in Berlin, and the second in 1854 in Munich; and in
the expositions of London and Paris in 1851 and 1855, that in-
dustry stood the test. If it had no originality or invention
to boast of, all agreed that it possessed solid merit in the
medium sphere which belonged to it.” Its progress was still
more noticeable in 1867 in Paris, and in 1873 in Vienna. The
Zollverein thus seems to have advanced Germany much in
the same way that the introduction of the policy of free trade
promoted the wealth, well-being and industrial progress of
England.—ED.
END OF WOLUME THIRD.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.
Ochlocracy-------------------- - -
O'Conor, Charles----------------
Office-Holders, Danger of an Aris-
tocracy of.---------------------
Oligarchy
Olmstead Case. (See Pennsylva-
nia.)
Omnibus Bill. (See Parliament-
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * - *
ary Law.)
oºie (See Public Opin-
IOIl.
Opposition.----- :-----------------
Order of the Day. (See Parlia-
mentary Law.)
Orders in Council. (See Embargo,
in U. S. History.)
Orders, Religious.
gations.)
Ordinance of 1787 (in U. S. Hist.)
Oregon --------------------------
Oriental Question, The-----------
Ostend Manifesto (in U. S. Hist.)
Outlawry -------- • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Outlet ---------------------------
(See Congre-
Pacific Railroad. (See Internal
III1proveilleulº, Railroads.)
Papal Infallibility.
Catholic Church.)
Paper Mone
Paraguay (Republic of)----------
Parasites, Social-----------------
Pardon --------------------------
Paris Monetary Conference-------
Parley---------------------------
Parliament, The British----------
Parliamentary Law.--------------
Participation in ProfitS.-----------
Parties, Political.---------------- -
Party Government in the Únited
States-------------------------
Party Names in U. S. History. (See
American Party, Anti-Federal
Party, Anti-Masonic Party, Con-
stitutional Union Party, Demo-
cratic-Republican Party, Federal
Party, Greenback-Labor Party,
Liberal Republican Party, Re-
publican Party, Whig Party.)
Patent Office---------------------
Patents, and the Patent System---
Patronage-----------------------
Patrons of Husbandry. (See
Grangers.)
Pauperism-----------------------
Peace----------------------------
Peace Congress. (See Conference,
Peace.)
Pendleton, George H.------------
Penitentiary Systems.
ons and Prison Discipline.)
Pennsylvania --------------------
Penny Banks. (See Banks, Histo-
ry and Management of Savings.)
Pensions. (See United States Pen-
Sion Laws,and the Pension Laws
of other Countries.)
(See Roman
28
122
123
139
145
153
154
154
Tº AGE
Persia ----------- & ſº dº ſº º mº m ºn sº m ºn am - as * * 15
Personal Liberty Laws (in U. S.
History) ----------------------- 162
Personal Union------------------ 163
Peru---------------- ** * * - - - - - - - - - - 164
Petition (in U. S. History)------- 167
Petition, Right of.---------------- 169
Philosophy of Law.-------------- 173
Physiocrates--------------------- 188
Pickering, Timothy--------- ---- 198
Pierce, Franklin----------------- 198
Pinckney, Charles Cotesworth--- 198
Pinckney, Thomas--------------- 198
Piracy--------------------------- 199
Plenty and Dearth--------------- 201
Poland-------------------------- 203
Police ---------- • = e = * * * * * * * * * * * * * 206
Police Power of a State---------- 212
Political Arithmetic. (See Arith-
metic, Political.)
Political Assessments. (See AS-
sessments, Political.)
Political Economy--------------- 216
Political Economy, History of.-- 237
Political Science----------------- 257
Politics, Nature and Character of 268
Polk, James Knox--------------- 278
Poll Tax--------------------- - - 279
Popular Sovereignty (in U. S. His-
Oly) -------------------------- 281
Population----------------------- 284
Portugal.-----------------!-------- 299
Postoffice------------------------ 306
PostOffice Department------------ 310
Postoffice Savings Banks. (See
Banks,History and Management
of Savings.)
Powers of Cofigress. (See Con-
gress, Powers of.)
President. (See Executive.)
President Pro Tem. (See Parlia-
mentary Law.)
Press, The Newspaper and Peri-
odical------------------------- 311
Previous Question. (See Parlia-
mentary Law.)
Prices --------------------------- 326
Primary Elections--------------- 343
Priority of Debts due to the United
States and to the States-------- 350
Prisoners of War---------------- 351
Prisons and Prison Discipline---- 352
Private Bills. (See Parliamentary
Law.)
Private Calendar. (See Parlia-
mentary Law.)
Privateering -------------------- - 361
Privilege. (See Parliamentary
Law.
Prizes, Maritime----------------- 362
Production of Wealth------------ 363
Products on Paper--------------- 374
Profits--------------------------- 375
Prohibition (in U. S. History)---- 378
Promotion----------------------- 380
Property------------------------- 383
Property, Landed. (See Rent.)
Property, Literary--------------- 392
Proportional Representation----- 411
Protection----------------------- 413
Protection in the United States--- 423
Protestantism. (See Churches,
Protestant.)
Prussia -------------------------- 441
Public Debts. (See Debts, Na-
tional, State and Local.)
Public Lands of the United States- 460
A PAGE
Public Lands, Office of.----------- 479
Public Opinion------------------- 479
Public Policy-------------------- 480
Public Revenue. (See Revenue,
Public.)
Quarantine ----------------------
Quids (in U. S. History)----------
R
Races of Mankind---------------
Radicalism ----------------------
Railways ------------------------
Railway Clearing House. (See
Clearing, and Clearing Houses.)
Randolph, John------------------
Rebellion ------------------------
Rebellion, The (in U. S. History)--
Reciprocity----------------------
Recognition.---------------------
Reconstruction (in U. S. History).
Refuge, Right of. (See Asylum.)
Refunding of the Public Debt of
the United States--------------
Reichsrath----------------------
Reichstag------------------------
Removal of Deposits. (See De-
posits, Removal of.)
Removals from Office------------
Rent-----------------------------
Representation ------------------
Representative Democracy. (See
Democracy, Representative.)
Republic-------------------------
Republican Party (in U. S. His-
tory)---------------------------
Repudiation ---------------------
Resignation ---------------------
Restrictive System. (See Embar-
go, in U. S. History.)
Rººg Boards (in U. S. His-
tor
Revenue, Public-----------------
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * - - - * * * * * *s an ºr se
Revolution-----------------------
Revolution, The (in U. S. History)
Rhode Island---------------------
Ricardo, David-------------------
Riders (in U. S. History)---- - -
Right of Inheritance. (See Inher-
itance.)
Right of Petition. (See Petition,
º of.)
Riu Kill-------------------------
River and Harbor Bills.
ternal Improvements.)
Rºº. (SeeTransportation, Means
OI.
Roads and Canals. (See Internal
Improvements.)
Bohmer's Doctrine Of Parties.
(See Parties, Political.)
Roman Catholic Church ---------
Rotation in . Office. (See Civil
Service Reform.
Rules. (See Parliamentary Law.)
Rush, Richard -------------------
Russia---------------------------
(See In-
540
645
646
Saint Simonism. (See Socialism.)
Salary Grab (in U. S. History) ---
San Domingo --------------------
656
657
673
11
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Sandwich Islands---------------- 676
Sanitary System ----------------- 677
Savings.-------------------------- 681
Savings Banks. (See Banks, His-
tory and Management of Sav-
ings.)
Saxony--------------------------
Schools. (See Education and the
State.)
Schurz, Carl ---------------------
Science, Social. (See Social Sci-
ence.) -
Scotland-------------------------
Scott, Winfield-------------------
Scratching
Search, Right of------------------
Secession (in U. S. History)------
Sedition Laws. (See Alien and
Sedition laws.) -
Seminole War. (See Slavery, II.)
Senate (in U. S. History)
Sergeant-at-Arms. (See Parlia-
mentary Law.)
Sergeant, John-------------------
Servia, Principality of.-----------
Sessions of Congress. (See Con-
gress, Sessions of.)
Seward, William H.--------------
Seymour, Horatio----------------
Shay's Rebellion. . (See Confeder-
_ation, Articles of.)
Sherman, John ------------------
mº es sº me sº sº; sº * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Shimonoséki Indemnity ---------
Shinto ---------------------------
Siam ----------------------------
Silver----------------------------
Silver Bill. (See Hayes, R. B.)
Sinking Fund
Sintooism. (See Shintô.)
Slaver -
Slavery (in U. S. History)-------- -
Smith, Adam --------------------
Smuggling-----------------------
Socialism and Socialists----------
Social Contract
Social Science--------------------
Society --------------------------
South Carolina-------------------
Southern Confederacy. (See Con-
federate States.)
Sovereignty ----------------------
Sovereignty (in U. S. History).
(See Popular Sovereignty.)
Spain ---------------------------.
Speaker. (See Parliamentary Law.)
spºkers. (See Congress, Sessions
OI. - -
Speculation ----------------------
Spoils System, The --------------
Squatter Sovereignty. (See Popu-
lar Sovereignty.)
sº Act Congress (in U. S. His-
ory - -
Standing Armies.
Standing Orders.
mentary Law.)
Stanton, Edwin M.--------------
State, Department of-------------
State Rights. (See State Sover-
eignty, II.)
State Sovereignty (in U. S. Hist.)
State, The -----------------------
States, Constitutional and Legal
Diversities in ------------------
(See Armies.)
(See Parlia
Statistics ------------------------ -
Stephens, Alexander H.----------
Stevens, Thadd
Stock Exchange Clearing House.
(See Clearing, and Clearing
Houses.)
702
704
705
707
707
707
707
708
710
712
718
767
779
782
787
787
787
PAGE
Stock Jobbing. (See Agiotage.) 815
Story, Joseph--------------------
Strict Construction. (See Con-
struction.)
Strikes and Lockouts---------- ... 815
Subsidies------------------------ 818
Sub-Treasury. (See Independent -
Treasury.) .
Suffrage ------------------------- 822
Sumner, Charles----------------- 833
Sumptuary Laws. (See Laws,
Sumptuary.)
Supply. (See Parliamentary Law.)
Supreme Court. (See Judiciary.)
Sweden -------------------------- 834,
Switzerland---------------------- 840
Table. (See Parliamentary Law.)
Tammany Hall (in U. S. History). 850
Taney, Roger Brooke ------------ 856
Tariffs of the United States--- - - - 856
Tartar, Tartary ------------------ 867
Ta-Tsing ------------------------ 868
Tauism -------------------------- 869
Taxation, Principles of ---------- 870
'I'axation, National and Local.
(See Revenue, Public; Taxa-
tion.) -
Taylor, Zachary ---------------. _ 890
Telegraph ----------------------- 890
Tellers. (See Parliamentary Taw.)
Temperance Movement in the
United States. (See Prohibi-
tion, Police.)
Ten-Hour LaW------------------- 891
Tennessee------------------------ 891
Term and Tenure of Office------- 895
Territorial Waters --------------. 910
Territories (in U. S. History)----- 914
Texas --------------------------- 921
Third Estate--------------------- 923
Tie. (See Parliamentary Law.)
Tilden, Samuel Jones------------ 926
Times-Spirit, The. (See Zeitgeist.)
Tompkins, Daniel D. ------------ 926
Ton-Kin. (See Tonquin.)
Tonquin ------------------------- 926
Transportation, Means of.------- 928
Treason (in U. S. History)-------- 932
Treasury Department------------ 933
Treaties ------------------------- 935
Treaties, Fishery------ ----------- 941
Treaties of the United States----- 944
Trent Affair, The (in U. S. His-
tory)--------------------------- 949
Tungusic Races. (See Tartar.) -
Turkey-------------------------- 950
Tyler, John---------------------- 959
Union, The (in U.S. History) ---- 959
|Union Party. (See Republican
Party.)
United States Notes.-------------- 960
United States Notes, Legal-Ten-
der Cases — Decisions of the
Supreme Court of the United
States ------------------------- 986
United States of America, The--- 989
United States of Colombia. (See
New Grenada.)
TJnited States Pension Laws and
the Pension Laws of Other
Countries---------------------- 1020
IPAGE
United States Surplus Money, Dis-
tribution of, among the States-- 1032
Universal Suffrage. (See Suffrage.)
Universities---------------------- 038
Usury --------------------------- 1042
Utah --------------------- - - - - - - - 1043
Utility--------------------------- 1046
Utopia--------------------------- 1049
Value---------------------------- 1053
Van Buren, Martin.--------- .* - - - - 1061
Vermont------------------------- 1061
Veto (in U. S. History)----------- 1064
Vice-President. (See Executive,
W.; Electors; Senate; Admin-
istrations.) -
Virginia------------------------- 1067
Virginia Resolutions. (See Ken-
tucky and Virginia Resolutions.)
W
Wage Fund, The----------------- 1074
82°S.--------------------------- 1077
“Waltham System”------------ - 1085
Wants--------------------------- 1085
War. (See Declaration of War,
Delligerents, Exchange of Pris-
oners.) --
War, 'I'he Civil. (See Rebellion,
The, in U. S. History.)
War Department.----- t----------- 1087
Wars (in U. S. History) ---------- 1088
Washington City. (See Capital,
National.)
Washington, George------------- j092
Washington Territory------------ 093
Ways and Means. (See Parlia-
mentary Law.)
Wealth -------------------------- 1093
Webster, Daniel------------------ 1098
Weights and MeasureS.----------- 1098
West Virginia ------------------- 1099
Wheeler, William A. ------------- 1101
Whig Party (in U. S. History)--- 1101
Whisky Insurrection (in U. S. His- 1
tory)-------------------------- 108
Whisky Ring-------------------- 1112
White, Hugh LaWSon------------ 1113
White League. (See Ku-Klux
Klan.)
Wilmot Proviso (in U. S. History). 1114
Wilson, Henry------- - - - - - - - - - - - - 1118
Wirt, William-------------------- 1118
Wisconsin----------------------- 1118
Woman Suffrage. (See Suffrage.)
Wright, Silas-------------------- 1120
Wyoming------------------------ 1120
Wyoming Territory-------------- 1122
X
XYZ Mission (in U. S. History) 1122
Y
Yazoo Frauds (in U. S. History)-- 1127
Yeas and Nays. (See Parlia-
mentary Law.) -
Zeitgeist-------------------------
Zollverein --------------- --------
The following is a List of the Subjects treated by American Writers:
ATKINSON, EDWARD — Banks, Functions of.
BOLLES, ALBERT S. — Finance, American,
BOWKER, R. R. — Scratching.
BRYOE, T. T. — Products on Paper.
BURCHARD, H. C. — Coinage; Gold; Silver.
CARY, EDWARD —Education and the State; Gambettism.
CLAMPITT, JOHN W. — Bill ; Court Martial ; Military
Commissions; Law, Common ; Law, Criminal; Magna
Charta; Police Power of the State.
COLBY, JAMES F.— Privateering; Prizes, Maritime; Suf-
frage; Territorial Waters.
CONWAY, EUSTACE — Treaties; United States Pension
LaWS. .
COOLEY, THOS. M. — Bar; Corporations, Law of.
COWLEY, C. — Knights of the Order of St. Crispin; Na-
tional Cemeteries; Ten-Hour Law; “Waltham System.”
CROSBY, EDWARD H. — Petition, Right of ; Priority of
Debts Due to the United States and to the States; Pub-
lic Policy.
I)AVIS, J. C. BANCROFT – Geneva Arbitration ; Treaties
of the United States.
IEATON, DORMAN B. — Civil Administration ; Civil Serv-
ice Reform ; Confirmation by the Senate ; Judiciary,
Elective ; Patronage ; Primary Elections; Promotion;
Removals from Office; Spoils System; Term and Tenure
of Office.
IEBER HARDT, MAX. — Aliens; Bundesrath; German Em-
pIre. -
FISKE, JOHN — Great Britain; House of Commons; House
of Lords.
FORD, WORTHINGTON C. — Extradition; Income Tax;
Internal Revenue of the United States; License Tax;
Navy; Participation in Profits; Poll Tax; Prices; Pub-
lic Lands of the United States; Refunding of the Public
Debt of the United States; Sinking Fund; Tariffs of
the United States.
GEORGE, HENRY — Chinese Immigration.
GILMAN, D. C. — Universities.
'GODKIN, E. L. — Office-Holders, Danger of an Aristoc-
racy Of..
'GOODE, G. BROWN – Fisheries; Treaties, Fishery.
GREEN, GEORGE WALTON – Municipal Bonds; Nat-
uralization; Repudiation.
GRIFFIS, WM. E. — China ; Corea ; Formosa; Japan;
Mongols; Mutsuhito; Riu Kiu; Shimonoséki Indemni-
ty; Shintô; Siam; Tartar, Tartary; Ta-Tsing; Tauism;
Tonquin. -
BADLEY, ARTHUR T. — Over-Production; Postoffice;
Profits; Reciprocity; Speculation; Subsidies; Trans-
portation, Means of; Weights and Measures.
HAMILTON, JOHN B. — Quarantine.
HOUGH, FRANKLIN B. — Forestry.
ISHAM, EDWARD S. — Corporations, Economic and Social
Relations of. - *
JAMESON, JOHN A. — Convention, The Constitutional.
JAMES, E. J. — Banks of Issue; Customs Duties; Educa-
tion, Compulsory ; Emigration and Immigration; Ex-
cise; Factory Laws; Finance, Science of ; Insurance;
Labor; Political Economy, History of
JOHNSTON, ALEXANDER – The Articles on the Political
History of the United States in the Cyclopaedia.
JOHNSTON, JOHN — Scotland.
KNOX, JOHN JAY – Banking; United States Notes; United
States Notes—Legal Tender Cases—Decisions of the Su-
preme Court of the United States; United States Sur-
plus Money, Distribution of, among the States.
KOERNER, GUSTAVE — Monroe Doctrine; Outlawry.
LLOYD, H. D. —Clearing, and Clearing Houses.
LOWELL, JOHN — Bankruptcy.
MASON, ALFRED B. — Proportional Representation.
|MASON, DAVID H. — Protection in the United States.
NORTH, S. N. D.— Press, The Newspaper and Periodical.
PORTER, ROBERT. P. — Debts, National, State and Local.
PUTNAM, GEO. HAVEN – Property, Literary.
RAYMOND, R. W. — Mines.
SANBORN, F. B. — Pauperism.
SMITH, EDMUND MUNROE–Nationality, Law of.
SMITH, HAYDN — Exchange, An; Fund, Funding, Re-
funding.
SPOFFORD, A. R. --Academics; Ballot; Dudget; Congress
of the United States; Education, Bureau of ; Homestead
and Exemption Laws; Interior, Department of the: Jus-
tice, Department of; Library of Congress; Lobby; Navy,
Department of the; Parliament, The British ; Parlia-
mentary Law ; Patent Office; Postoffice Department;
Public Lands, Office of; States, Legal and Constitutional
Diversities of; Treasury Department; War I)epartment.
STERNE, SIMON – Cities, Administration of American;
Legislation; Monopolies; Railways; Representation.
Towns（ND, JOHN P.—Banks, History and Management
of Savings.
WALKER, FRANCIS A. — Public Revenue; Wage Fund;
Wages.
WEEKS, JOS. D. —Conseils Des Prud’hommes; Industrial
Arbitration; Strikes and Lockouts.
WELLS, DAVID A.—American Merchant Marine; Distilled
Spirits; Extradition; Fair Trade; Free Trade; Naviga-
tion Laws of the United States; Taxation; United States
Pension Laws and Pension Laws of other Countries.
WHITE, HORACE – Commercial Crises; Money and its
Substitutes; Paris Monetary Conference.
WHITRIDGE, FREDERICK W. — Assessments, Political;
Caucus System; Instructions; Jury, Trial by; Patents,
and the Patent System.
WILLIAMS, TALCOTT– Apportionment; Party Govern-
ment in the United States; Tammany Hall; Turkey.
WINES, FRED. H. — Prisons and Prison Discipline.
WITTON, H. B. —Dominion of Canada.
WOOLSEY, THEODORE S. —Blockade.
ill
390
5326
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